As Carmody left the office building, John Keats' figure emerged from
the shadows of a nearby doorway. He looked up at the golden rectangle
of Gorman's window and then toward the direction in which Carmody had
gone; and bit his lip irresolutely. After a moment's reflection, he
chose to follow his old body. Somehow he didn't have much confidence in
Gorman any more; not that he'd ever really trusted him. In their line
of evil you couldn't afford to trust anybody. He had made a mistake.
But it could still be rectified.
If the big man was aware of his tracker, he did not seem to care.
He moved purposefully in the direction of the hotel, scorning the
helicabs that swooped down to proffer their services, striding through
the brilliantly lit avenues gay with music and the dark alleys mournful
with the whine of the farjeen wires as if they were all the same.
The hotel was on one of the avenues, because the Lockards always had
only the best of whatever there was to be had. Carmody crossed the
almost deserted lobby in swift strides and took the pneumo to the
seventh floor. Knowing that his body could have only one objective in
that place, Keats took the stairs to the basement.
Carmody sprang out of the pneumo exit and ran down the corridor to bang
lustily on the intricately embossed metal door of the Lockards' suite.
After a moment, the girl, again in negligee, opened it. Her green-gray
eyes widened when she saw who the late visitor was, and she put a
finger to her lips. "Shh, Gabe's asleep; let's not wake him unless it's
necessary." She closed the door softly behind him. "What is it ... Jed?"
He was so choked with excitement that he could hardly get the words
out. "Helen; will you make a break with me for Proxima Centauri? They
won't ask any questions there, if we can get there. And from Proxima we
can go--"
"But your body?"
"The hell with my body." He gripped her arms with powerful hands. "You
mean much more to me than that worthless hulk."
"But, Jed, Gabe'll never let us go...." Proxima Centauri--that had been
Gabriel's dream, too....
His hands pressed so hard into her flesh, she knew there would be
bruises on her skin; was she always doomed to fall in love with men who
would leave marks on her? "Let him try to stop us. I'm bigger than he
is, now."
She looked up at him. "You always were, darling. But he has influence,
though he wouldn't need it; he could simply set the police on you."
"That's the chance we're going to have to take.... But perhaps I'm
asking too much. I haven't the right to ask you to take such risks," he
added bitterly. "I was thinking only of myself, I see, not of you."
"Oh, no, Jed!"
* * * * *
"Who're you talking to, Helen?" a drowsy voice asked from the bedroom.
It was followed by the comely person of Gabriel himself, fastening his
dressing gown. "Oh, hello, Carmody." His face lighted up avidly, all
sleepiness vanishing like a spent milgot. "Did you do it already?"
"No, I didn't. And, what's more, I'm not going to do it!"