Anthony made a gesture indicating that Hite should ask the questions. Hite said: 'Did he have a car, Mrs. Sims?'
'Yes, a nice little blue-and-white model. I thought it didn't belong to anyone in this street.' She looked at them slyly. 'I know what you're going to ask me next.'
'Did you happen to notice the license plate?' Hite asked.
Yes,' she said triumphantly. 'I wrote it down.'
Anthony smiled.
.
3 P. M.
The upper stages of the missile art contained in an aluminum tub with a cast magnesium base. The upper- stage tub rests on bearings, allowing it to spin during flight. 'It will rotate at about 550 revolutions per minute to improve accuracy.
On 37th Street at the end of O Street, the iron gates of Georgetown University stood open. Around three sides of a muddy lawn were Gothic buildings of rusticated grey stone, and students and faculty hurried from one building to another in their cold-weather coats. As Luke drove slowly in, he imagined that someone might catch his eye, recognize him, and say. 'Hey, Luke! Over here!' And the nightmare would be over. '
Many of the professors wore clerical collars, and Luke realized this must be a Catholic university. It also appeared to be all-male.
He wondered whether he was Catholic.
He parked in front of the main entrance, a triple-arched portico marked 'Healy Hall'. Inside he found a reception desk and the first woman he had seen here. She said that the physics department was directly below where he stood, and told him to go outside and turn down a flight of steps that led beneath the portico. He felt he was coming nearer to the heart of the mystery, like, a treasure hunter penetrating the chambers in an Egyptian pyramid.
Following her directions, he found a large laboratory with benches down the centre and doors on either side that led to smaller offices. At one of the benches, a group of men were working with the components of a microwave spectrograph. They all wore eyeglasses. Judging by their ages, Luke thought they were professors and graduate students. Some of them might easily be people he knew. He approached them with an expectant look.
One of the older men caught his eye, but there was no flash of recognition. 'Can I help you?'
'I hope so,' Luke said. 'Is there a department of geophysics here?'
'Goodness, no,' he said. 'At this university, even physics is considered a minor subject' The others laughed.
Luke gave them all a chance to look at him, but none seemed, to know him. He had chosen badly, he thought despondently; he probably should have gone to George Washington University. 'What about astronomy?'
'Why, yes, of course. The heavens, we study. Our observatory is famous.'
His spirits lifted. 'Where is it?'
The man pointed to a door at the back of the lab. 'Go to the other end of this building and you'll see it on the far side of the baseball diamond.' He returned his attention to the bench.
Luke followed a long, dark, dirty corridor that ran the length of the building. Seeing a stooped man in professorial tweeds coming the other way, Luke looked him in the eye, a smile ready to break out if the professor recognized him. But a nervous expression came over the man's face and he hurried by.
Undaunted, Luke walked on, giving the same look to everyone he passed who might possibly be a scientist; but no one showed any sign of recognition. Leaving the building, he saw tennis courts and a view of the Potomac River and, to the west across the sports field, a white dome.
He approached it with mounting anticipation. On the flat roof of a small two-storey house was a large revolving observatory, its dome having a sliding roof section. It was an expensive facility that indicated a serious astronomy department. Luke stepped inside the building.
The rooms were arranged around a massive central pillar that supported the enormous weight of the dome. Luke opened a door and saw an empty library. He tried another, and found an attractive woman about his own age sitting behind a typewriter. 'Good morning,' he said. Is the professor in?' '
You mean Father Heyden?'
'Uh yes.'
'And you are?'
'Um...' Luke had stupidly not foreseen that he would have to give a name. Now his hesitation caused the secretary to raise her eyebrows, distrustfully. 'He won't know me,' Luke said. 'That is ... he will know me, I hope, but not by name.'
Her suspicion grew. 'Still, you do have a name.'
'Luke. Professor Luke.'
'To which university are you attached, Professor Luke?'
'Urn ... New York.' -
'Any particular one of New York's many institutions of higher learning?'
Luke's heart sank. In his enthusiasm he had failed to plan for this encounter, and now he saw that he was making a mess of it When you were in a hole, it was best to stop digging, he thought. He turned off his friendly smile and spoke coldly. 'I didn't come here to be cross-examined,' he said. 'Just tell Father Heyden that Professor Luke, the rocketry physicist ,:has dropped by and would like a word with him, would you?'
'I'm afraid that won't be possible,' she said firmly.
Luke left the room, slamming the door. He was angry with himself more than with the secretary, who was only protecting her boss from being pestered by an apparent nutcase. He decided to look around, opening doors until either someone recognized him or he was thrown out. He went up the stairs to -the second floor. The building seemed to be deserted. He climbed a wooden stair with no handrail and entered the observatory. It, too, was empty. He stood admiring the large revolving telescope with its complex system of cogs and gears, a real masterpiece of engineering, and wondered what the hell he was going to do next.
The secretary came up the stairs. He prepared himself for a row, but instead she spoke sympathetically. 'You're in some kind of trouble, aren't you,' she said.
Her kindness brought a lump to his throat 'It's very embarrassing,' he said. 'I've lost my memory. I know I'm in the rocketry field, and I was hoping to run into someone who might recognize me.'
'There's nobody here right now,' she said. 'Professor Larkley is giving a lecture on rocket fuels at the Smithsonian Institution, as part of International Geophysical Year, and all the faculty are there.'
Luke felt a surge of hope. Instead of one geophysicist he could meet a whole roomful. 'Where's the Smithsonian Institute?'
'It's downtown, right in the Mall, around 10th Street.'
He had driven around Washington enough today to know that that was not far away. 'What time is the lecture?'
'It started at three.'
Luke checked his watch. It was three-thirty. If he hurried, he could get there by four. 'The Smithsonian,' he repeated.
'Actually, it's in the Aircraft Building, around the back.'
'How many people will be at the lecture, do you know?'
'About a hundred and twenty.' Surely one of them would know him! 'Thank you!' he said, and he ran down the stairs and out of the building.
.
3.30 P. M.
Rotating the second-stage tub stabilizes the flight path by averaging the variations between the eleven individual small rocket motors in the cluster.
Billie was furious with Len Ross for trying to ingratiate himself with the people from the Sowerby Foundation. The post of Director of Research ought to go to the best scientist - not the most oleaginous. She was still annoyed that afternoon when the chief executive's secretary called and asked her to come to his office.
Charles Silverton was an accountant, but he understood the needs of scientists. The hospital was owned by a
