_How do you trap a man who has the entire world at his mercy?_
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Amazing Stories August 1962
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Shortly after noon, a small side door in the faculty restaurant of
Cleaver University opened and a man and a woman stepped out into the
sunlight of the wide, empty court between the building and the massive
white wall opposite it which bordered Cleaver Spaceport. They came
unhurriedly across the court towards a transparent gate sealing a
tunnel passage in the wall.
As they reached the center of the court, a scanning device in the
wall fastened its attention on them, simultaneously checking through a
large store of previously registered human images and data associated
with these. The image approaching it on the left was that of a slender
girl above medium height, age twenty-six, with a burnished pile of
hair which varied from chestnut-brown to copper in the sun, eyes which
appeared to vary between blue and gray, and an air of composed
self-reliance. Her name, the scanner noted among other details, was
Arlene Marguerite Rolf. Her occupation: micromachinist. Her status: MAY
PASS.
Miss Rolf's companion was in his mid-thirties, big, raw-boned and
red-haired, with a formidably bulging forehead, eyes set deep under
rusty beetle-brows, and a slight but apparently habitual scowl. His
name was also on record: Dr. Frank Dean Harding. Occupation: marine
geologist. Status--
At that point, there was an odd momentary hesitancy or blurring in the
scanner's reactions, though not quite pronounced enough to alert its
check-mechanisms. Then it decided: MAY NOT PASS. A large sign appeared
promptly in brilliant red light on the glassy surface of the wall door.
WARNING--SOMATIC BARRIERS!
_Passage Permitted to Listed
Persons Only_
* * * * *
The man looked at the sign, remarked dourly, "The welcome mat's out
again! Wonder if the monitor in there can identify me as an individual."
"It probably can," Arlene said. "You've been here twice before--"
"Three times," Frank Harding corrected her. "The first occasion was
just after I learned you'd taken the veil. Almost two years now, isn't
it?" he asked.
"Very nearly. Anyway, you're registered in the university files, and
that's the first place that would be checked for an unlisted person who
showed up in this court."
Harding glanced over at her. "They're as careful as all that about
Lowry's project?"
"You bet they are," Arlene said. "If you weren't in my company, a
guard would have showed up by now to inform you you're approaching a
restricted area and ask you very politely what your business here was."
Harding grunted. "Big deal. Is someone assigned to follow you around
when you get off the project?"
She shrugged. "I doubt it. Why should they bother? I never leave the
university grounds, and any secrets should be safe with me here. I'm
not exactly the gabby type, and the people who know me seem to be
careful not to ask me questions about Ben Lowry or myself anyway." She
looked reflective. "You know, I do believe it's been almost six months
since anyone has so much as mentioned diex energy in my presence!"
"Isn't the job beginning to look a little old after all this time?"
Harding asked.
"Well," Arlene said, "working with Doctor Ben never gets to be boring,
but it _is_ a rather restrictive situation, of course. It'll come
to an end by and by."
Harding glanced at his watch, said, "Drop me a line when that
happens, Arlene. By that time, I might be able to afford an expert
micromachinist myself."
"In a dome at the bottom of some ocean basin?" Arlene laughed. "Sounds
cosy--but that wouldn't be much of an improvement on Cleaver Spaceport,
would it? Will you start back to the coast today?"
"If I can still make the afternoon flight." He took her arm. "Come on.
I'll see you through the somatic barrier first."
"Why? Do you think it might make a mistake about me and clamp down?"
"It's been known to happen," Harding said gloomily. "And from what I
hear, it's one of the less pleasant ways to get killed."
Arlene said comfortably, "There hasn't been an accident of that kind in
at least three or four years. The bugs have been very thoroughly worked
out of the things. I go in and out here several times a week." She took
a small key from her purse, fitted it into a lock at the side of the
transparent door, twisted it and withdrew it. The door slid sideways
for a distance of three feet and stopped. Arlene Rolf stepped through
the opening and turned to face Harding.
"There you are!" she said. "Barely a tingle! If it didn't want to pass
me, I'd be lying on the ground knotted up with cramps right now. 'By,
Frank! See you again in two or three months, maybe?"