"You've been here as long as anyone--or almost. If it could be brought
off, you could do it."
"And what do I get out of it?"
Hendley took a deep breath. What could you offer a man who had
everything, who had known complete freedom all his life? "If there
was any way I could...." He fumbled desperately for a magic word, an
unexpected gift. He had nothing to offer. Lamely he said, more to
himself than to the watching Freeman, "I know her."
Suddenly Nik smiled. He was himself again, worldly wise, cynical,
amused. "Why not?" he said. "If you hit the right man, you can buy
anything with white chips. Maybe I could bring it off. So you'd get the
girl and I'd get a few laughs. Why not?"
Hendley felt an overwhelming gratitude. "Thanks," he said. "I don't
know how to--"
"Forget it. Anyway, all I said was we could try to bring it off. You
can't fix the drawing, that's not the way to do it. We have to get
lucky and hope the winner is a gambler." He rose quickly. "I'll have to
dig up some chips, enough to look better than a naked showgirl. Haven't
much time. You wait here until they're drawing number nine or ten.
Then go downstairs. You'll find a back exit from the lobby behind the
escalators. Wait for me in the garden near the gate in the high wall.
You got that?"
"I've got it. Is there anything else I can do? After all, this is my
idea--"
"Just try to keep from falling on your face," Nik said with a grin.
"That girl might not be able to catch you. The rest just leave to me.
I haven't found anything that interested me so much in a handful of
moons."
With a sardonic wave of his hand he turned away. Hendley watched him
thread his way along the aisle toward the nearest exit. Silence caught
his attention. He swung back toward the stage. Another girl stood alone
in the center spotlight, her head bent submissively. They all used the
same pose, Hendley thought bitterly. They had all been taught well.
How easy it must have been for Ann to play her role!
He continued to stare down at the stage as the lottery went on. His
eyes felt dry and grainy from staring. This, too, was a part of
freedom, he thought. What did it prove? The worker classes served
the free, assured them their pleasures. Had it always been the same,
through all the misty centuries of pre-Organization time? Was this a
better way simply because more people could hope to follow it? Was
better merely a matter of numbers?
Or was it possible that pleasure was not pure--that a freedom
synonymous with pleasure was not all?
* * * * *
The garden was dimly lighted. Unused to live trees and bushes,
especially at night, Hendley had to steel himself against the
impression that things moved in the deep shadows. Or was this an effect
of all his drinking rather than the strangeness? He shook his head.
The gate in the high wall was guarded by a computer. The winning
numbers flashed to the audience in the auditorium would simultaneously
be fed to this computer outside, Hendley guessed. The computer would
then automatically adjust to open the gate when the properly numbered
tickets were presented. Hendley had been in the garden when the
previous winner, holding a ticket for girl number 10, passed through
the gate. Since then nothing had happened. The garden leading up to
the wall was deserted. No sounds filtered into the garden from the
auditorium.
The door behind him opened suddenly. A knife of light slashed across
the lawn, rendering a shadowed clump of bushes innocent. A figure broke
the slash of light. The door closed.
"Pulled it off," Nik said, his teeth gleaming in a grin. "I hope she's
worth it. You'll find a row of separate units after you get beyond the
gate. They're all numbered. She'll be in number eleven, of course. Same
as her tag. Here's your ticket."
"How--how did you manage it?"
Nik shrugged. "No trouble. The winner had his Contracted with him in
the theater, and she wasn't very happy about his good luck. They'll
both be happier in the casino."
Hendley took the ticket. He had no words adequate to convey his thanks.
"Forget it," Nik said. "Maybe I'll get a chance to see you before you
leave tomorrow. If not...." He gave an offhand salute. "Freedom is
all," he said. White teeth flashed.
He let himself back into the lobby of the Rec Hall, and Hendley was
alone. For a moment he stared at the closed door, a little bewildered
by the young Freeman's strange generosity. The memory of his earlier
vague suspicions made him flush. He turned abruptly and strode across
the garden.
The gate opened noiselessly to the signal of its electronic brain when
the winning ticket was fed into a slot. Hendley faced a long row of
small concrete units, each with a single door. There were no windows,
but there were open air curtains between the horizontal wall line of
each unit and its curving roof shell. The air curtain would keep out
heat and cold, but it failed to smother all sounds. Walking along the
path Hendley heard giggling laughter and small, muted, unidentifiable
rustlings and murmurs. A small panel of light beside each door
illuminated a number. He walked quickly in the shadow of the high wall
until he came to the unit marked 11.
The room was a simple rectangle with a built-in bed, seat bench, and
clothes rack. Its interior was dim, catching only the light from the
night sky and the stars, visible through the arches of the air curtains
at front and rear. There was a connecting door in the right wall.
Hendley heard water running. He waited, his heart beating rapidly.
When the girl emerged from the washroom its light panel was behind her,
throwing the slender contours of her body into sharp relief. The light
began to fade automatically, controlled by the opening of the door.
In a moment it disappeared. Hendley neither moved nor spoke. Had she
recognized him? Or were her eyes still adjusting to the main room's dim
light? He felt an absurd relief that her nude body bore no stain of red.
She took a sudden step forward, one hand reaching out. Halting, she
seemed to shiver. "Oh, no!" she whispered. "No!"