The satellite itself is only 2 feet 10 inches long, and weighs just 18 pounds.
The shadow followed Luke for a quarter of a mile as he walked south on 8th Street.
It was now full light and, although the street was busy, Luke easily kept track of the grey Homburg hat bobbing among the heads crowded together at street' comers and bus stops. But after he crossed Pennsylvania Avenue, it disappeared from view. Once again, he wondered if he might be imagining things. He had woken up in a bewildering world where anything might be true. Perhaps the notion that he was being tailed was only a fantasy. But he did not really believe that, and a minute later he spotted the green raincoat coming out of a bakery.
Tot, encon,' he said under his breath. 'You again.' He wondered briefly why he had spoken in French, then he put the thought out of his mind. He had more pressing concerns. There was no further room for doubt: two people were following him in a smoothly executed relay operation. They had to be professionals.
He tried to figure out what that meant Homburg and Raincoat might be cops - he could have committed a crime, murdered someone while drunk. They could be spies, KGB or CIA, although it seemed unlikely that a deadbeat such as he could be involved in espionage. Most probably he had a wife he had left many years ago, who now wanted to divorce him and had hired private detectives to get proof of how he was living. (Maybe she was French.)
None of the options was attractive. Yet Luke felt exhilarated. They probably knew who he was. Whatever the reason for their tailing him, they must know something about him. At the very least, they knew more than he did.
He decided he would split the team, then confront the younger man.
He stepped into a smoke shop and bought a pack of Pall Malls, paying with some of the change he had stolen. When he went outside, Raincoat had disappeared and Homburg had taken over again. He walked to the end of the block and turned the corner.
A Coca-Cola truck was parked at the kerb, and the driver was unloading crates and carrying them into a diner. Luke stepped into the road and walked to the far side of the truck, positioning himself where he could watch the street without being seen by anyone coming around the corner.
After a minute, Homburg appeared, walking quickly, checking in the doorways and windows, looking for Luke.
Luke dropped to the ground and rolled under the truck. Looking along the sidewalk at ground level, he picked out the blue suit pants and tan Oxfords of his shadow.
The man quickened his pace, presumably concerned that Luke had disappeared off the street Then he turned and came back. He went into the diner and came out a minute later. He walked around the truck, then returned to the sidewalk and continued on. After a moment, he broke into a run.
Luke was pleased. He did not know how he had learned this game, but he seemed to be good at it. He crawled to the front of the truck and scrambled to his feet. He looked around the nearside fender. Homburg was still hurrying away.
Luke crossed the sidewalk and turned the corner. He stood in the doorway of an electrical store. Looking at a record player with an eighty bucks price tag, he opened the pack of cigarettes, took one out, and waited, keeping an eye on the street Raincoat appeared.
He was tall - about Luke's height - and his build was athletic, but he was about ten years younger, and his face wore an anxious look. Luke's instinct told him the man was not very experienced.
He spotted Luke, and gave a nervous start. Luke looked straight at him. The man looked away and continued walking, edging to the outside of the side walk to pass Luke, as anyone might to avoid contact with a bum.
Luke stepped into his path. He put the cigarette into his mouth and said: 'Got a light, buddy?'
Raincoat did not know what to do. He hesitated, looking worried. For a moment, Luke thought he would walk by without speaking; but then he made a quick decision, and stopped. 'Sure,' he said, trying to act casual. He reached into the pocket of his raincoat, took out a book of matches and struck one.
Luke took the cigarette out of his mouth and said: 'You know who I am, don't you?'
The young man looked scared. His training course had not prepared him for a surveillance subject who started to question the shadow. He stared at Luke, dumbstruck, until the match burned down. Then he dropped it and said: 'I don't know what you're talking about, pal.'
'You're following me,' Luke said. 'You must know who I am.'
Raincoat continued to act innocent 'Are you selling something?'
'Am I dressed like a salesman? Come on, level with me.'
I'm not following anyone.'
'You've been behind me for an hour, and I'm lost!'
The man made a decision. 'You're out of your mind,' he said. He tried to walk past Luke.
Luke-moved sideways, blocking his path.
'Excuse me, please,' Raincoat said.
Luke was not willing to let the man go. He grabbed him by the lapels of the raincoat and slammed him against the shop window, rattling the glass. Frustration and rage boiled over. 'Putain de merde' he yelled.
Raincoat was younger and fitter than Luke, but he offered no resistance. 'Get your damn hands off me,' he said in a level voice. I'm not following you.'
'Who am I?' Luke screamed at him. 'Tell me, who am I?'
'How should I know?' He, grasped Luke by the wrists, trying to shake his hold on the lapels of the raincoat Luke shifted his grip and took the man by -the throat -'I'm, not taking your bullshit,' he rasped. 'You're going to tell me what's going on.'
Raincoat lost his cool, eyes widening in fear. He struggled to loosen Luke's grip on his throat When that failed, he began to punch Luke's ribs. The first blow hurt, and Luke winced, but he retained his hold and moved in close, so that subsequent punches had little force. He pressed his thumbs into his opponent's throat, choking him. Terror showed in the man's eyes as his breath was cut off.
Behind Luke, the frightened voice of a passer-by said: 'Hey, what's going on here?'
Suddenly Luke was shocked at himself. He was killing the guy! He relaxed his grip. What was the matter with him? Was he a murderer?
Raincoat broke Luke's hold. Luke was dismayed at his own violence. He let his hands fall to his side.
The guy backed away. 'You crazy bastard,' he said. The fear had not left his eyes. You tried to kill me!'
'I just want the truth, and I know you can tell me it.'
Raincoat rubbed his throat 'Asshole,' he said. 'You're out of your goddamn mind.'
Luke's anger rose once more. 'You're lying!' he yelled. He reached out to grab the man again.
Raincoat turned and ran away.
Luke could have chased him, but he hesitated. What was the point? What would he do if he caught the guy - torture him?
Then it was too late. Three passersby had stopped to watch the fracas and were now standing at a safe distance, staring at Luke. After a moment, he walked away, heading in the direction opposite to that taken by his two shadows.
He felt worse than ever, shaky after his violent outburst and sick with disappointment at the result. He had met two people who probably knew who he was, and he had got no information.
'Great job, Luke,' he said to himself. 'You achieved precisely nothing.'
And he was alone again.
.
8 A. M.
The Jupiter C missile has, four stages. The largest part is a high-performance version of the Redstone ballistic missile. This is the booster, or first stage, an enormously powerful engine that has the gargantuan task of freeing the missile from the mighty putt of Earth's gravity.
Dr Billie Josephson was running late.
She had got her mother up, helped her into a quilted bathrobe, made her put on her hearing aid, and sat her in the kitchen with coffee. She had woken her seven-year-old, Larry, praised him for not wetting the bed, and told him he had to shower just the same. Then she returned to the kitchen.
Her mother, a small, plump woman of seventy known as Becky-Ma, had the radio on loud. Perry Como was singing 'Catch a Falling Star'. Billie put sliced bread in the toaster, then laid the table with butter and grape jelly for
