<That's just a label.>
'Would it surprise you if I told you that Mr. Gray has instituted a system of having humans watch the Model Eights? Isn't that an invasion of their privacy?'
<That's different: Model Eights are different.>
'Why? Aren't you just exhibiting prejudice against the Model Eights because they look different?'
<It's not their looks. It's what they think — what's in their nets.>
Laura hesitated, then began to type with growing anticipation. 'Have the Model Eights learned something that's significant? Are they in possession of some dangerous knowledge?'
ACCESS RESTRICTED
'Bingo,' she whispered, feeling another tumbler fall into place.
<What?> the computer asked, apparently having heard her from the door.
'Nothing,' Laura typed.
<You said 'bingo.' The word is a non sequitur.>
'Never mind!'
Laura was ecstatic. She was beginning to see the bigger picture. Gray's secrecy, his 'need-to-know' policies and King-level access and confidentiality agreements, his ideas about privacy and intellectual property… and the access-restricted messages. They all had a common thread woven through them. They all dealt with Gray's control of information.
But there remained the most important question of all. How did all that tie in with the virus… the Other?
35
When Laura ascended the stairs from the computer center entrance to the surface, she saw that the sun hung low over the horizon. She stood on the edge of the curbed roadbed to wait for a car.
Looking out over the flat lawns of the restricted area, she could see tall rockets rising on either side of the massive assembly building.
The middle launch pad would be full also, she thought. All three launches were going off just after dark.
Not far from the computer center was the jungle into which Hoblenz had taken her. It marked the edge of the cleared lawns nearest Launchpad A and came to within a hundred yards of the bunker's heavy concrete walls.
She looked down to pick at the mud still caked underneath her fingernails, turning the day's new riddles over and over in her mind.
Laura jumped back from the curb with a start when a Model Three eased up beside her. Recovering quickly, she got into the car and buckled up. She couldn't think where to tell the car to take her.
Filatov had warned her not to go out by herself this close to sunset. He hadn't said why, and she hadn't felt the need to ask.
'Let's see. Car? Please take me to, um… those swimming pools where the employees train to be astronauts.' She had no idea whether the computer could figure her instructions out, but the car took off immediately. It made the loop in front of the computer center and headed into the jungle in the direction of the Village. It was a short ride. The gate demarcating the restricted area rose, and the car pulled slowly onto the central boulevard of the village. Through the windshield the imposing wall of the volcanic crater towered over the puny buildings. Gray's house, usually brightly lit in the twilight, stood dark on its perch high above.
The car drove slowly past the shops, luxury apartments, and restaurants, but there was no need for such caution. The nearly empty Village looked like a ghost town. An occasional pedestrian walked purposefully down the sidewalk, hurrying to some destination before darkness descended. None of the people she saw were children, and none were women. They all looked to be men in their twenties or thirties — risk-takers who had chosen not to flee like the others.
Two of Hoblenz's soldiers patrolled the sidewalk, one ten meters behind the other. The trailing man spun and walked backward every few steps to check the rear. They wore black combat gear, and radio aerials rose high above their backpacks. They carried the long black rifles the computer said were most effective against the robots.
The car turned onto a side street and pulled up under the portico of a long building. The car door beside her opened, and Laura looked out at the wall of glass surrounding the main entrance. The building's windows were heavily tinted, but it looked as if the lights were on inside. There were security troops stationed in sandbagged positions all down its length.
'Car, could you not leave me here, please?' she said, and got out.
The car remained right where Laura had left it. She went to the front door and pushed. Inside, the building was alive with activity.
It was a cheery sight when compared to the depressing scene on the Village streets.
'Hi! Are you one of the new recruits?' a peppy blond girl with a clipboard asked. She and several others like her milled about the lobby wearing identical red athletic shorts and T-shirts that read EMPLOYEE TRAINING CENTER.
''New recruits'?' Laura replied — confused.
'Did you just arrive on a flight?'
'Oh… no. My name is Dr. Laura Aldridge.'
'Sure! I know you. The psychiatrist, right?'
Laura was shocked. 'Psychologist,' she corrected, 'but how did you know?'
'From the TV. It was all over CNN.'
'What was? What did they say?'
'They said you were here from Yale and were treating Mr. Gray for some problem.'
A bus had arrived, and the girl looked back at the crowd forming outside.
'Harvard,' Laura said, but the woman to whom she directed the comment was distracted. The bus pulled up under the portico, and the girl rose to her tiptoes to peer over Laura's shoulder at the new recruits. 'And that report's not true,' Laura objected.
'I know that! It's just the press.' The girl, Laura realized, was a true believer.
The door behind Laura opened to admit the noise of a dozen excited conversations. Laura turned to see the first of a long line of people.
They were presumably infused with the same spirit as the camp counselor who awaited them. The bus headed off — back, Laura imagined with growing amazement — to pick up more of Gray's reserves.
Two other young women joined the cheerleader with the clipboard.
All three were similarly attired. 'Welcome to the Gray Corporation Astronaut Training Facility!'
The sound of it sent the new arrivals into a general commotion. Laura shook her head in astonishment at the quick change in Gray's tactics. Instead of tricking people into courses secretly intended to prepare them for 'phase two,' he was now using the astronaut training program as his drawing card. The chance to fly in space, Laura thought. It was a heady proposition. Another bus pulled up outside.
'First things first!' the blond girl announced. 'Are any of you not already employed by the Gray Corporation or one of its arms?' No one raised their hand.
'Great!' the camp counselor chirped. 'No paperwork!' A lighthearted cheer rose from the group. Most looked bedraggled from travel, but their faces were alert and awake. For them, it was the beginning of a new life. Phase two.
'I have it down here,' the blond girl said, raising the clipboard into the air, 'that everyone has completed the basic course at the regional centers and has signed up for Introductory Mechanics: Construction Techniques! Is that right?'
One woman raised her hand. 'Is there any chance to switch to Metallurgical Processing?' she asked with a thick German accent. 'They said I might be able to switch once I got here.'
'I'm sorry, but all the fabricating classes are full. Do you want to continue on in Mechanical, or do you wanna go back home and wait for a call?'
