Alan turned and saw the little fruit vender pointing accusingly at him.
Behind him were three men in the silver-gray police uniforms. "That's
the man who wouldn't buy from me. He's an unrotationist! Damn Spacer!"
One of the policemen stepped forward--a broad man with a wide slab of a
face, red, like raw meat. "This man has placed some serious charges
against you. Let's see your work card."
"I'm a starman. I don't have a work card."
"Even worse. We'd better take you down for questioning. You starmen come
in here and try to----"
"Just a minute, officer." The warm mellow voice belonged to the smiling
man on the bench. "This boy doesn't mean any trouble. I can vouch for
him myself."
"And who are you? Let's see _your_ card!"
Still smiling, the man reached into a pocket and drew forth his wallet.
He handed a card over to the policeman--and Alan noticed that a blue
five-credit note went along with the card.
The policeman made a great show of studying the card and succeeded in
pocketing the bill with the same effortless sleight-of-hand that the
other had used in handing it over.
"Max Hawkes, eh? That you? Free status?"
The man named Hawkes nodded.
"And this Spacer's a pal of yours?"
"We're very good friends."
"Umm. Okay. I'll leave him in your custody. But see to it that he
doesn't get into any more jams."
The policeman turned away, signalling to his companions. The
fruit vender stared vindictively at Alan for a moment, but saw he would
have no revenge. He, too, left.
Alan was alone with his unknown benefactor.
_Chapter Six_
"I guess I owe you thanks," Alan said. "If they had hauled me off I'd be
in real trouble."
Hawkes nodded. "They're very quick to lock people up when they don't
have work cards. But police salaries are notoriously low. A five-credit
bill slipped to the right man at the right time can work wonders."
"Five credits, was it? Here----"
Alan started to fumble in his pocket, but Hawkes checked him with a wave
of his hand. "Never mind. I'll write it off to profit and loss. What's
your name, spacer, and what brings you to York City?"
"I'm Alan Donnell, of the starship _Valhalla_. I'm an Unspecialized
Crewman. I came over from the Enclave to look for my brother."
Hawkes' lean face assumed an expression of deep interest. "He's a
starman too?"
"He--was."
"Was?"
"He jumped ship last time we were here. That was nine years ago
Earthtime. I'd like to find him, though. Even though he's so much older
now."
"How old is he now?"
"Twenty-six. I'm seventeen. We used to be twins, you see. But the
Contraction--you understand about the Contraction, don't you?"
Hawkes nodded thoughtfully, eyes half-closed. "Mmm--yes, I follow you.
While you made your last space jump he grew old on Earth. And you want
to find him and put him back on your ship, is that it?"
"That's right. Or at least talk to him and find out if he's all right
where he is. But I don't know where to start looking. This city is so
big--and there are so many other cities all over Earth----"
Hawkes shook his head. "You've come to the right one. The Central
Directory Matrix is here. You'll be able to find out where he's
registered by the code number on his work card. Unless," Hawkes said
speculatively, "he doesn't have a work card. Then you're in trouble."
"Isn't everyone supposed to have a work card?"
"I don't," Hawkes said.
"But----"
"You need a work card to hold a job. But to get a job, you have to pass
guild exams. And in order to take the exams you have to find a sponsor
who's already in the guild. But you have to post bond for your sponsor,
too--five thousand credits. And unless you have the work card and have
been working, you don't have the five thousand, so you can't post bond
and get a work card. See? Round and round."
Alan's head swam. "Is that what they meant when they said I was
unrotational?"
"No, that's something else. I'll get to that in a second. But you see
the work setup? The guilds are virtually hereditary, even the fruit
venders' guild. It's next to impossible for a newcomer to crack into a
guild--and it's pretty tough for a man in one guild to move up a notch.
You see, Earth's a terribly overcrowded planet--and the only way to
avoid cutthroat job competition is to make sure it's tough to get a job.
It's rough on a starman trying to bull his way into the system."
"You mean Steve may not have gotten a work card? In that case how will I
be able to find him?"
"It's harder," Hawkes said. "But there's also a registry of Free Status
men--men without cards. He isn't required to register there, but if he
did you'd be able to track him down eventually. If he didn't, I'm afraid
you're out of luck. You just can't find a man on Earth if he doesn't
want to be found."
"Free Status? Isn't that what the policeman said----"
"I was in?" Hawkes nodded. "Sure, I'm Free Status. Out of choice,
though, not necessity. But that doesn't matter much right now. Let's go
over to the Central Directory Matrix Building and see if we can find any
trail for your brother."
They rose. Alan saw that Hawkes was tall, like himself; he walked with
easygoing grace. Questioningly Alan twitched his shoulder-blade in a
signal that meant, _What do you think of this guy, Rat?_
_Stick with him_, Rat signalled back. _He sounds okay._
The streets seemed a great deal less terrifying now that Alan had a
companion, someone who knew his way around. He didn't have the feeling
that all eyes were on him, any more; he was just one of the crowd. It
was good to have Hawkes at his side, even if he didn't fully trust the
older man.
"The Directory Building's way across town," Hawkes said. "We can't walk
it. Undertube or Overshoot?"
"What?"
"I said, do you want to take the Undertube or the Overshoot? Or doesn't
it matter to you what kind of transportation we take?"