find your
wife." He paused, a little significantly. "Ever think she might be a
member of something herself?"
"A member?"
"Of some
Society."
"No, of course—I don't think—" Kil
dwindled off on a doubtful note.
"It sounds like it. That old man coming
up—"
"Wait!"
cried Kil. "I think I've got something. I mentioned it to that man McElroy
at the Police Headquarters, but he didn't believe me. Is there any Society that
doesn't wear Keys?" He stopped before something strange and brilliant and
unfathomable in Dekko's eyes.
"Society
without Keys?" said Dekko. "Are you psycho, Kil? How could anyone
live, Society or no Society, without a Key, even if the Police'd let them? You
were—what makes you think there's something like that?"
"The
old man who took Ellen away hadn't any Key on his wrist."
"You were looking at the wrong
arm." "No," said Kil stubbornly. "No, I wasn't."
"Then you hit a blind spot.
Listen," Dekko leaned forward earnestly. "Everything in this world's
got a door, right?" "Yes," admitted Kil, grudgingly.
"And
every door's got a cup? And you can't open that door without a Key to put in
that cup. If you didn't have a Key, it'd be like being in a city when your time was up. You couldn't
open anything. You couldn't get in to eat, or sleep, to get clothes, or draw
money or anything. That's why Files was set up the way it was. Anyone who
overstays their time in any one spot got to move or die. If there was any way
around it, there wouldn't be any point to Files."
"The
transportation system's open. You don't need a Key to take a rocket, or a mag ship," said Kil.
"What
good's that to you? So you can go to another city. But that city's closed, too.
Listen to me, Kil, if you don't have a Key, there's a billion doors closed
against you. You're locked out; locked out of all the world!"
Kil shook his head
stubbornly.
"I saw it," he
said.
"Sure,
think that if you want," Dekko straightened up. "How
about it? You want to try stringing a wire to the O.T.L.? Do you want to
hire me?"
Kil nodded.
"You're hired,"
he said. "How do we start?"
"Pasadena,
California; then the Thieves Guild, first," said Dekko. "You got to
join, you know. Then some other Society, one of the big ones. Then, if we can do it, the O.T.L."
Kil got stiffly to his
feet.
"All
right," he said. "I guess I'm good enough to travel." Dekko went
off into another of his silent fits of laughter.
"Why,
Kil," he said, when he had sobered again, "you don't just walk out
the door and out of riggertown like that. Don't you remember? Ace was having
you shook out when I came along and shorted out a pocket sunbeam in the eyes of
those two crims of his. The word's still out for you. We're going to have to
change the way you look and a lot more about you if we want to make it to the
Terminal without trouble."
"We do?" said Kil. "Well,
let's get busy at it, then."
"Do me!" Dekko grinned at him.
"You got a lot to learn."
During
the next three days Kil came around to admitting this himself. But first came the matter of changing his appearance. The primary
change Dekko insisted upon was bleaching Kil's hair to a silvery white.
"But
you'll just make me that much more conspicuous," Kil protested.
"You've
got the wrong id§a," Dekko explained, patiently. "You want to look
just like everyone else? You want to fade into the background? Sure, that's
fine for people who aren't being looked for specially. But when you got someone
who knows what you looked like to start off with, you want them to look at you
now and then say, no, that couldn't possibly be the juby we're after."
"I still think-"
"No.
Now listen. I got a hump on my back. One guess how
people remember me? If I could get rid of that hump I could walk up to most of
them tomorrow and they'd scratch their heads trying to remember what I remind
them of. Now, you— you change your hair to white. You stand out in a crowd like
a streetside sunbeam. But they take one look at you and that's all they
see—they see
wife." He paused, a little significantly. "Ever think she might be a
member of something herself?"
"A member?"
"Of some
Society."
"No, of course—I don't think—" Kil
dwindled off on a doubtful note.
"It sounds like it. That old man coming
up—"
"Wait!"
cried Kil. "I think I've got something. I mentioned it to that man McElroy
at the Police Headquarters, but he didn't believe me. Is there any Society that
doesn't wear Keys?" He stopped before something strange and brilliant and
unfathomable in Dekko's eyes.
"Society
without Keys?" said Dekko. "Are you psycho, Kil? How could anyone
live, Society or no Society, without a Key, even if the Police'd let them? You
were—what makes you think there's something like that?"
"The
old man who took Ellen away hadn't any Key on his wrist."
"You were looking at the wrong
arm." "No," said Kil stubbornly. "No, I wasn't."
"Then you hit a blind spot.
Listen," Dekko leaned forward earnestly. "Everything in this world's
got a door, right?" "Yes," admitted Kil, grudgingly.
"And
every door's got a cup? And you can't open that door without a Key to put in
that cup. If you didn't have a Key, it'd be like being in a city when your time was up. You couldn't
open anything. You couldn't get in to eat, or sleep, to get clothes, or draw
money or anything. That's why Files was set up the way it was. Anyone who
overstays their time in any one spot got to move or die. If there was any way
around it, there wouldn't be any point to Files."
"The
transportation system's open. You don't need a Key to take a rocket, or a mag ship," said Kil.
"What
good's that to you? So you can go to another city. But that city's closed, too.
Listen to me, Kil, if you don't have a Key, there's a billion doors closed
against you. You're locked out; locked out of all the world!"
Kil shook his head
stubbornly.
"I saw it," he
said.
"Sure,
think that if you want," Dekko straightened up. "How
about it? You want to try stringing a wire to the O.T.L.? Do you want to
hire me?"
Kil nodded.
"You're hired,"
he said. "How do we start?"
"Pasadena,
California; then the Thieves Guild, first," said Dekko. "You got to
join, you know. Then some other Society, one of the big ones. Then, if we can do it, the O.T.L."
Kil got stiffly to his
feet.
"All
right," he said. "I guess I'm good enough to travel." Dekko went
off into another of his silent fits of laughter.
"Why,
Kil," he said, when he had sobered again, "you don't just walk out
the door and out of riggertown like that. Don't you remember? Ace was having
you shook out when I came along and shorted out a pocket sunbeam in the eyes of
those two crims of his. The word's still out for you. We're going to have to
change the way you look and a lot more about you if we want to make it to the
Terminal without trouble."
"We do?" said Kil. "Well,
let's get busy at it, then."
"Do me!" Dekko grinned at him.
"You got a lot to learn."
During
the next three days Kil came around to admitting this himself. But first came the matter of changing his appearance. The primary
change Dekko insisted upon was bleaching Kil's hair to a silvery white.
"But
you'll just make me that much more conspicuous," Kil protested.
"You've
got the wrong id§a," Dekko explained, patiently. "You want to look
just like everyone else? You want to fade into the background? Sure, that's
fine for people who aren't being looked for specially. But when you got someone
who knows what you looked like to start off with, you want them to look at you
now and then say, no, that couldn't possibly be the juby we're after."
"I still think-"
"No.
Now listen. I got a hump on my back. One guess how
people remember me? If I could get rid of that hump I could walk up to most of
them tomorrow and they'd scratch their heads trying to remember what I remind
them of. Now, you— you change your hair to white. You stand out in a crowd like
a streetside sunbeam. But they take one look at you and that's all they
see—they see
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