Marrett agreed. "We can take him down to the basement level and cross over into the General Assembly chamber. It's an impressive place. Nobody'11 be there."
Landau scowled but capitulated. "Give me a few minutes to pack my kit. If anything happens, I must be prepared."
"Great!" Kinsman clapped his hands. Or tried to. The servos were out of sync just enough to make his palms hit slightly off-center, producing a dull thump instead of a sharp smack.
He got into his chair and said, "And while we're thinking about it, check on our shuttle. Is it still set to take us up at ten?"
Harriman said, "I called JFK fifteen minutes ago. They'll be ready for us at ten."
"You'll miss the New Year's Eve celebration," Marrett said.
"In here? Watching the celebration on TV isn't my idea of fun, even if it's a three-dimensional screen," Kinsman replied. "I'd rather be on my way home."
"We'll get to Alpha an hour or so behind the immi- grants," Harriman said. "There'll be plenty of celebrating."
They made a strange foursome: Marrett leading the way, tall, an aging athlete's flat-stomached, hard-eyed figure, chomping on an unlit cigar; Harriman walking alongside Kinsman's powered chair, pudgy and round, a middle-aged cherub; Kinsman himself in his otherworldly skeleton of metal and machinery, his face hidden behind a green oxygen mask; and Landau, tall and taciturn, a dour bearded figure pacing solemnly behind the chair waiting for a tragedy.
There had not been a traffic jam in Manhattan for years. Most of the commuters were carried in and out of the island on government-operated buses and trains; private autos had dis- appeared almost entirely. But on this particular evening people poured into Manhattan. They jammed the buses, choked the trains. They drove petroleum-extravagant cars. They pedaled 546 bikes and rode in taxis and limousines and horse-drawn cabs. They clogged the bridges and tunnels where the toll gates had been left open and the exorbitant fees went uncollected by a strangely munificent government. They were filling the city, which was normally empty and quiet after sundown. Times Square was already packed with people, and for the first time in a decade the Manhattan traffic computer system broke down. The wind died away and clouds drifted across the face of the Moon, It would be cold this night, but few of the New Year's Eve fun-seekers would notice.
The General Assembly meeting chamber was empty, as Marrett had predicted. Almost. A little knot of schoolchil- dren stood clustered by the speaker's rostrum, goggle-eyed at the splendor of real wood and plush upholstery and paintings and sculpture commissioned over the years by the United Nations. The work of the world's best artists decorated the chamber profusely.
To no avail, thought Kinsman as he sat at the far end of the chamber, near the last row of visitors' seats. He tasted oxygen in his mouth, felt the slight chill of the gas and the flat tang of metal, as he looked out across the splendid and futile chamber. So much of the world's hope has been brought here—and laid to rest. Buried under talk. He noticed a broad, sweeping mural of an underwater scene, very abstract, but very recognizable. The big fish eat the little fish.
The schoolkids were trudging up the aisle, on their way out. Their teacher somehow got into a conversation with Marrett. She was a gray-haired dumpy woman with a bright smile and expressive hands.
Marrett walked back a few steps and bent over Kinsman. "Chet, these kids are children of UN employees. Mostly local people. Parents work as clerks, janitors, and such. Some of the kids'd like to talk to you."
From inside his oxygen mask Kinsman could not conduct a conversation. He raised a hand, servos humming, and pointed skyward.
"Upstairs," Marrett translated. "You'll talk to them up in your room?"
Kinsman made a circle of thumb and forefinger. At least I can do that without servos, he told himself.
Landau said. "They can visit only for a few minutes." 547
"Okay," Marrett said. "You take him back up and I'll keep the kids busy with a quick tour through the weather center. Be with you in fifteen, twenty minutes. Right?"
Kinsman nodded and Landau agreed.
