Mercury Man by Tom Henighan

was out of the watchman’s sight, he sprinted away down the corridor.
    He turned a corner and came upon an even longer corridor — a softly lit, restful space, it was lined with blue doors and decorated with abstract paintings thatlooked like spreadsheet graphs. Inscriptions on the doors bore the names of famous scientists: Einstein, Planck, Darwin, and others. There was nothing else in the hall except a fancy looking water cooler.
    It looked as if he had hustled his way into a dead end, and he was tempted by the red exit sign at the far end. But it was just an emergency door: he had boxed himself in. They would soon be after him and he would be exposed and humiliated. Was that what his pursuer had wanted? Or was he waiting outside for the inevitable conclusion?
    Tom stopped. He had no idea what to do.
    The door marked “Einstein” opened, and a woman in a white lab jacket stepped out. She looked at him casually, then more sharply.
    â€œCan I help you?” She was noticing his rough clothes and probably his panic.
    â€œYeah. My friends came over in a red van. I missed it, so I came on my bike. There was nobody out there to ask, so I thought I’d just look for them myself.”
    The woman’s expression lightened.
    â€œGood old Mac was out for a smoke, was he? I think I know what you want. That’s the Fabricon Youth Group. There’s a stairway there, right next to Darwin, you see? The Youth Group meets on the second floor. In the auditorium, usually — it’s called Copernicus Hall. You can’t miss it.”
    â€œThanks a lot, ma’am.”
    Tom smiled and, restraining himself, found the stairwell. Once out of sight, he turned on all the jets,bounded up two steps at a time, pushed through another door, and emerged in a larger, more imposing space.
    It was huge, as big as a basketball court, but its smooth white walls were lined with display cases, while its arched ceiling made him think of a church. At the far end, high up, hung a metallic robot the size of a small car, dangling on invisible wires above some cushioned chairs and couches. A couple of men sat there, tiny figures beneath the robot, their backs to where Tom stood. They seemed reposeful enough, until a third man appeared from somewhere and said, in a voice loud enough for Tom to hear, “There’s a kid roaming around here, looking for his pals. They’re all with Tarn now in Copernicus and he doesn’t want to be disturbed. If you run into this kid have him wait right here until Tarn gets through with them.”
    One of the men said something in reply. Tom, who had crouched down behind a display case, couldn’t hear it, but he heard their laughter. When he dared to look again, the third man had disappeared and the first two men were sitting placidly together.
    If he were caught, the great Dr. Tarn would speak to him.
That was a possibility he didn’t exactly look forward to.
    Examining the hall more carefully now he saw that it was rimmed, several levels higher, by a kind of balcony — a narrow walkway such as sometimes gives access to the higher shelves in old libraries. He saw, too, that about twenty feet away there was a curved metal staircase by which he could reach this walkway. Once up there, he might be able to get a look into CopernicusHall without being seen. The only trouble was that to do so he would have to walk out in full view of anyone who might come out of any of the many doors that lined both the upper and lower levels of the place.
    The situation seemed hopeless, but then he noticed, a few feet away, a numbered door that looked like it might be a maintenance closet. This gave him an idea, and he crept slowly and carefully forward, keeping his eye on the two men down the hall, hopeful that they wouldn’t turn and spot him.
    He reached the closet, turned the handle, and found that it was open. He was inside in an instant, and he pulled the door shut behind him and