Part 50 (1/2)

There's no nameplate on his desk, and I never did catch it.”

”Mr. Smith, sir.”

”You're kidding me.”

”No, sir.”

”John Smith? I'll bet that's it.” ”No, sir. Mr. James R. Smith, sir.”

”Well, I'll be d.a.m.ned.”

Scratching his chin, Jay went into the men's room. There were at least a dozen mirrors there, as the youngish man had said. The little augmentation screen set into his forehead, blank and black since he had received it between the fourth and the fifth grades, showed two glimmering stars now: five- or six-pointed, and scarlet or blue depending on the angle from which he viewed them.

For ten minutes or more he marveled at them. Then he relieved himself, washed his hands, and counted the money again. One hundred thousand in crisp, almost-new hundreds. Logically, it could be counterfeit. Logically, he should have shown one to the security bot and asked its opinion.

Had the bot noticed his bulging pockets? Security bots would undoubtedly be programmed to take note of such things, and might well be more observant than a human officer.

He took out a fresh bill and examined it, riffling it between his fingers and holding it up to the light, reading its serial number under his breath. Good.

If the bot had called it bad, it would have been because the bot had been instructed to do so, and that was all.

Furthermore, someone had been afraid he would a.s.sault the youngish man the bot called James R. Smith, presumably because metal detectors had picked up his hunting knife; but Smith had not asked him to remove it, or so much as mentioned it. Why?

Jay spent another fifteen or twenty seconds studying the stars in his IA screen and three full minutes concentrating before he left the rest room. There was no bot in the hall. A middle-aged man who looked important pa.s.sed him without a glance and went in.

Jay walked to the elevators, waved a hand for the motion detector, and rode a somewhat crowded car to the lobby. So far as he could see, no one was paying the least attention to him.

There was another security bot in the lobby (as there had been when he had come in), but it appeared to pay no particular attention to him either.

Revolving doors admitted him to Sixth Avenue. He elbowed his way for half a block along a sidewalk much too crowded, and returned to the Globnet Building.

The security bot was chatting with the young woman in her window-less room again. When she saw Jay she nodded and smiled, and the doors to Smith's office swung open.

Smith, who had said that he would be making calls, was standing at one of his floor-to-ceiling windows staring out at the gloomy December sky.

”I'm back,” Jay said. ”Sorry I took so long. I was trying to access the new chips you gave me.”

”You can't.” Smith turned around.

”That's what I found out.”

Smith's chair rolled backwards, and he seated himself at his desk. ”Aren't you going to ask me what they're for?”

Jay shook his head.

”Okay, that will save me a lot of talking. You've still got the hundred thousand?” Jaynodded.

”All right. In about forty-seven minutes we're going to announce on all our channels that you've got it. We'll give your name, and show you leaving this building, but that's all. It will be repeated on every newscast tonight, name, more pictures, a hundred thou in cash. Every banger and grifter in the city will be after you, and if you hide it, there's a good chance they'll stick your feet in a fire.” Smith waited, but Jay said nothing.

”You've never asked me what we're paying you to do, but I'll tell you now. We're paying you to stay alive and get some good out of your money. That's all. If you want to stay here and tough it out, that's fine. If you want to run, that's fine, too. As far as we're concerned, you're free to do whatever you feel you have to do.”

Smith paused, studying Jay's scarred face, then the empty, immaculate surface of his own desk. ”You can't take those chips out. Did you know that?”

Jay shook his head.

”It's easy to put them in to upgrade, but d.a.m.ned near impossible to take them out without destroying the whole unit and killing its owner. They do that to make it hard to rob people of their upgrades. I can't stop you from trying, but it won't work and you might hurt yourself.” ”I've got it.” Jay counted the stars on Smith's screen. Four. ”The announcement will go out in forty-five minutes, and you have to leave the building before then so we can show you doing it.” The doors behind Jay swung open, and the security bot rolled in. ”Kaydee Nineteen will escort you.” Smith sounded embarra.s.sed. ”It's just so we can get the pictures.” Jay rose.

”Is there anything you want to ask me before you go? We'll have to keep it brief, but I'll tell you all I can.”

”No.” Jay's shoulders twitched. ”Keep the money and stay alive. I've got it.”

As they went out, Smith called, ”Kaydee Nineteen won't rob you. You don't have to worry about that.”

Kaydee Nineteen chuckled when Smith's doors had closed behind them. ”I bet you never even thought of that, sir.”

”You're right,” Jay told him.

”Are you going to ask where the holo cameras are, sir?”

”In the lobby and out in the street. They have to be.”

”That's right, sir. Don't go looking around for them, though. It looks bad, and they'll have to edit it out.”

”I'd like to see the announcement they're going to run,” Jay said as they halted before an elevator. ”Can you tell me where I might be able to do that?”

”Certainly, sir. A block north and turn right. They call it the Studio.” The elevator doors slid back, moving less smoothly than Smith's; Kay -dee Nineteen paused, perhaps to make certain the car was empty, then said. ”Only you be careful, sir. Just one drink. That's plenty.” Jay stepped into the elevator.

”They've got a good holo setup, I'm told, sir. Our people go there all the time to watch the shows they've worked on.”

When the elevator doors had closed, Jay said, ”I don't suppose you could tell me where Icould buy a gun?”

Kaydee Nineteen shook his head. ”I ought to arrest you, sir, just for asking. Don't you know the police will take care of you? As long as we've police, everybody's safe.” The elevator started down.

”I just hoped you might know,” Jay said apologetically. ”Maybe I do, sir. It doesn't mean I tell.”

Slipping his hand into his side pocket, Jay broke the paper band on a sheaf of hundreds, separated two without taking the sheaf from his pocket, and held them up. ”For the information.

It can't be a crime to tell me.”

”Wait a minute, sir.” Kaydee Nineteen inserted the fourth finger of his left hand into the STOP b.u.t.ton, turned it, and pushed. The elevator's smooth descent ended with shocking abruptness. ”Here, take it.” Jay held out the bills.

Kaydee Nineteen motioned him to silence. A strip of paper was emerging from his mouth; he caught it before it fell. ”Best dealer in the city, sir. I'm not saying she won't rip you off. She will. Only she won't rip you off as badly as the rest, and she sells quality. If she sells you home-workshop, she tells you home-workshop.”

He handed the slip to Jay, accepted the hundreds, and dropped them into his utility pouch.

”You call her up first, sir. There's an address on that paper, too, but don't go there until you call. You say Kincaid said to. If she asks his apartment number or anything like that, you have to say number nineteen. Do you understand me, sir?” Jay nodded.

”It's all written out for you, and some good advice in case you forget. Only you chew that paper up and swallow it once you got your piece, sir. Are you going to do that?”

”Yes,” Jay said. ”You have my word.”