Exiled from Earth

7

Lou stood up, hot fear burning through him. “Federal marshals?”

“They have locked all the doors and are searching the building for you,” Ramo said without emotion.

“Uncle Lou, I’m afraid,” George whispered.

“How many of them are there?” Lou asked Ramo.

“Twelve.”

Big George pushed off his chair and shambled over to stand beside Lou, so close that Lou could feel the warmth from his great hairy body. George was terrified. But the marshals don’t know how timid he really is. They might shoot as soon as they see him.

“Is the door to the courtyard locked?”

“Yes,” Ramo answered. “All the doors are.”

There were footsteps in the hall now; Lou could hear them. He turned to George, snuffling fearfully beside him.

“Can you knock that door open, Georgy?”

“I can try, Uncle Lou.”

Lou patted his massive shoulder. “Come on, quick.”

George scampered toward the door, accidentally knocking a chair clattering out of his way. From out in the hall a voice called:

“Hey… hear that? In here, quick, unlock it!”

George was loping across the floor in full stride now, knuckles and big splayed feet slapping the tiles. Lou had to run to keep up with him. George didn’t stop or even slow down at the door. He simply crashed right through, his bulk and speed tearing the lock right apart and knocking both doors off their hinges with a blood-freezing shriek of ripping metal.

Lou was right behind him in the sudden glare of the sunshine.

“George… this way!”

Now Lou took the lead, through the courtyard and out the access tunnel toward the back lot. Stopping, he pointed to the stand of trees off behind the parking area.

“You…get back…to your pen,” he panted. “Safest place… for you. They won’t bother you… in there.”

“But Uncle Lou, I want to go with you,” George argued hoarsely. “All the nice people went away. These new people scare me.”

Lou took a deep breath and said, “They won’t hurt you. And you can’t come with me right now. But I’ll come back for you.”

“When?”

Lou could hear shouts out in the courtyard.

“As soon as I can, Georgy.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. Now get back to your pen and be a good boy. And don’t be afraid, they won’t hurt you.”

With a troubled look, the gorilla moved off toward the trees.

Lou sprinted for the parked cars. The lab’s electric wagons were lined up in the first row, and Lou knew their ignition locks were keyed to a simple voice code. He slid in behind the wheel of the first one in line.

“DNA-RNA,” he said as he pressed the starter switch.

The electric motor hummed to life. Never be able to outrun turbocars in this thing, Lou told himself. A man in a gray business suit ran out onto the parking lot. He had a gun in his hand. Lou grabbed the steering wheel, kicked off the brakes, and slammed the accelerator to the floor. The wagon lurched feebly, than started to gain momentum. Lou drove straight at the man. He jumped away and fired. Lou swung the wagon away and then cut back for the access tunnel, dived through its shadow, raced through the courtyard and past another handful of jumping, shouting men, into the front tunnel and out past the main lobby.

The front gate was rolling shut, but Lou knifed the wagon through it and sped down the highway in the curiously quiet acceleration of the electric motor. He picked up the car radio microphone and called:

“Ramo, this is Lou Christopher. Over.”

“I recognize your voice pattern, Lou. Over.”

“Basic program zero, Ramo. Suspend all housekeeping functions until further notice. Maintenance and repair mode only. Execute. Over.”

“Executed. Over.”

Lou grinned as he raced down the highway, one hand on the wheel. “Very good, Ramo. Now suspend all communications until my voice pattern orders resumption. Understood? Over.”

“Understood and prepared to execute,” Ramo said tonelessly. But somehow Lou felt the computer didn’t like to shut itself off.

“Execute. Over.”

No answer. The computer was completely shut down. All the doors that were locked would remain locked until some of the Institute maintenance men could be brought in to open them manually. The front gate would stay locked too, and it was strong enough to keep the police cars inside even if they tried ramming it. All the lights, the air conditioning, everything, was off. Have a pleasant day! Lou thought grimly.

He eased off the accelerator and coasted down the highway at the legal maximum speed. No sense getting picked up by a traffic patrol. His insides were fluttering, now that he had enough time to think.

How long can I keep running? Where to now? Not my apartment. Ramo said everybody on the scientific staff was arrested. Did they lake Bonnie, too? And why. why, for God’s sake? What’s going on?

He shook his head. It was like a nightmare. It couldn’t be real. Police don’t just march into a lab and arrest everybody. That was something out of the Dark Ages. People have rights, there are laws—

And then he remembered New York, and realized that in some places the Dark Ages still existed.

As he drove toward town, Lou switched on the radio and dialed to the police frequency. Plenty of chatter, but nothing about the Institute or himself. Why not? Why aren’t they calling for help? Or at least spreading an alert to pick me up?

As if in answer, Lou saw a highway patrol Cruiser gliding up behind him on the outside lane. He knew that the electric wagon could never outspeed a cruiser; the turbine-driven police car could even lift itself off the ground and literally fly on an air cushion for short distances, doing several hundred knots. But the cruiser zipped right past him, and the two white-helmeted officers in it never even looked at him.

Maybe the police aren’t after me, Lou said to himself.

Another part of his mind answered, Somebody is.

But not the police. Then who are they?

A few minutes later he found m’mself driving past Bonnie’s apartment building. Got to stop someplace. Got to have some time to figure this out. Even is she’s been picked up; I can still use her apartment. And if she’s free, I can find out what’s going on from her.

He drove the wagon halfway across town, parked it in a public garage, and then took a cab back to Bonnie’s. He gave the cab another false name and credit number. In the lobby of the apartment building, he told the door-computer:

“I’m a friend of Miss Sterne’s, apartment 27-T.”

“Name, please,” the computer’s flat voice replied.

“Roy Kendall,” Lou lied, naming a mutual friend who lived in Denver.

“Miss Sterne is not in at present. I am not programmed to admit anyone.”

“Miss Sterne has left special instructions under Code V for visitors.”

The computer hummed to itself for a second. Then, “Mr. Kendall, you may be admitted.” The door clicked open. Lou stepped through and went to the elevator.

He had to go through the same routine with the lock computer at Bonnie’s door, but here the code symbol was SF for special friends. Finally, the door popped open and Lou stepped into Bonnie’s apartment.

Shutting the door carefully behind him, Lou looked over the single room. Nothing seemed disturbed or moved. The closet next to the foldaway bed was open, and there were some clothes draped on a chair in front of it. Lou poked into the kitchenette alcove and found a pot of coffee still plugged in and warm. Bonnie was here this morning. Or at least, somebody was here.

He took a bottle of milk from the refrigerator and downed half of it. He was just putting it back when the front door opened.

Bonnie stood in the doorway, open-mouthed with surprise.

“Lou!”

She ran to him and threw herself into his arms. She felt warm and soft and safe.

“Baby, is it ever good to see you,” he murmured into her ear as he held her. “You even smell great.”

“Lou, what happened to you? Where’ve you been? We heard… Oh, Lou, your face!” She reached up and touched his swollen jaw. It hurt, but Lou didn’t mind at all.

“It’s a long story,” he said, still holding her tightly. “For a while there, I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

He kissed her, and then she gently pulled away. For the first time, Lou noticed she looked tired, strained.

“What’s been going on?” he asked. “Why’s the Institute been closed? Ramo said…”

“You’ve been at the Institute?” She looked startled.

Lou nodded. “Yep. Nearly got caught by a squad of guys who claimed to be Federal marshals.”

“They were marshals,” Bonnie said.

“But what’s this all about?”

Bonnie went toward the sofa, by the windows on the other side of the room. Lou followed her there.

Sitting, she told him, “The first I heard about it was yesterday, at the glider races. There was a Federal marshal looking for you. Then, when I got back to my apartment, there was another marshal waiting for me. I had to go with him to the Federal courthouse. Practically everybody in the Institute was there!”

Lou sank back in the sofa, realizing now why Bonnie looked strained.

“They let some of us out after a few hours,” she went on, her voice trembling a little. “But we were told not to go back to the Institute anymore. It’s been closed down.”

“Closed?”

Nodding, “Permanently, they said. I had to report to the employment center this morning. That’s where I’ve been all day. Lou,… what are they doing?” Her voice was starting to rise now, her tiny fists clenched. “Why did they close the Institute? What is it? What?”

He took her by the shoulders. “Hey… ease off now,” he said softly. “Take it easy. You’re okay. Nobody’s going to hurt you.”

“But they brought in Dr. Kaufman, and Greg Belsen, and just about all the scientists. All the technicians, all the secretaries and clerks… everybody!”

“But why? Did they give you any reason?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. Nobody seemed to know anything. They were just following orders.” She reached out and touched his jaw again. “But what happened to you?”

“I got away.” Lou told her about his night in New York, and this morning’s visit to the deserted Institute.

“What are you going to do now?” Bonnie asked.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’m about ready to cave in. Only had a couple hours’ sleep on the jet—”

Bonnie stood up. Brushing a blonde lock from her eyes, she said, “I’ll fix you some lunch and then you can take a nap.”

She went to the kitchenette alcove and started touching buttons on the control keyboard. Lou slouched on the sofa, already half asleep.

“Lou… it’s like the world’s coming apart, isn’t it?”

He looked up at her. “Whatever it is, it’s bigger than the Institute. They had Kirby from Columbia at the UN building. They were going to take us to Messina—”

“The world capital?”

Lou nodded. “I guess the world government’s behind this. And they’ve got the Federal people here on their side. But why? What’s it all about?”

Bonnie took a pair of steaming trays from the cooker and placed them on the low table next to the sofa. She sat on the floor, next to Lou’s feet.

“Lou… if the world government is after you—then there’s no place for you to hide!”

“Maybe,” he muttered, leaning over the trays and picking up a fork.

Bonnie said, very softly, “Maybe the only thing you can do is give yourself up. After all, if it’s the world government, it must be something terribly important, whatever it is.”

“But what are they up to?” Lou demanded. “Why yank us in like we’re criminals? Why haven’t they told us what’s going on? They haven’t called in the local police. And they’re sure not giving us any chances to exercise our constitutional rights.”

Bonnie didn’t answer.

They ate in silence, and then Lou stretched out on the sofa for a nap. He dreamed of being chased through the streets of New York by gangs of kids and uniformed policemen. Somehow the streets became Messina, but the gangs still pursued him. And from a balcony above him, Felix leaned heavily on a frail railing, huge and black, booming laughter at the chase.

He woke up shouting. Bonnie was beside him, her hands on him, stroking him. He sat up.

“They… I…”

“It’s all right,” she said soothingly, “it’s all right. You were dreaming. Look, you’re in a cold sweat.”

Lou ran a hand over his eyes.

“Bonnie…”

She looked away from him and said, “Lou, while you were sleeping, I was thinking hard about this whole thing. You can’t run away forever. You were lucky to getaway last night without being killed. Sooner or later, they’ll either catch you or you’ll get hurt or killed.”

“Yeah, I guess so. But what else…”

Bonnie’s hands were clenched together in white-knuckled tenseness. Her face looked bleak.

“Lou,” she said, “I don’t want you to get hurt. I…while you were asleep I called the courthouse. There are four marshals outside in the hall. They’ve come for you.”

“You what!” Lou sprang up from the sofa.

“There’s no other way out of here,” she said There were tears in her eyes now as she stood beside him. “Please, Lou… let them take you in. They promised that nobody’s going to hurt you. Please…”

Lou stared at her. “Federal marshals, the world government, the Institute closed…and now even you, even you, Bonnie. Nobody in the world is on my side. Nobody! In the whole world!”

“Lou, please…” She was crying now.

The door opened and they walked in. Four of them. Big-shouldered, tight-lipped. Wearing plain, dark business shorts and tunics. Armed, everybody knew, with needle guns and more.

“Louis Christopher. I have a Federal warrant for your arrest.”

“Nobody in the whole stupid world,” Lou muttered loudly enough for only Bonnie to hear.