They followed a circuitous route toward the GATE annex, gradually losing the tourists as the hour advanced toward midnight, Station time. They wandered back and forth outside the single lock that led to the GATE area until a tired technician of approximately the right size emerged.

The man said good night to the two guards manning the heavy airlock, turned up a side corridor leading toward the residential section of the floating city. He was very surprised when Lisa accosted him, looking lost and forlorn. Undoubtedly he did not fit the mental profile for falling in love with her, but ordinary lust was something else again, and Lisa’s beauty easily aroused that in any man.

Eric found himself resenting what happened subsequently as he shadowed the two on their way to the man’s apartment. There was no other way as safe, however. Lisa had argued with him until he’d acquiesced. Nor was she troubled by the inevitable, having performed such functions all her life. Still, Eric hit the somnolent form of the technician harder than was necessary as he lay in the bed.

They bound and gagged him and locked him in the compact lavatory. Eric slipped into one of the tech’s clean duty uniforms and placed the only tools he could scrounge in highly visible pockets.

There remained the problem of finding similar garb and identification for Lisa.

“You up to it?” she asked him uncertainly. “If not, well, I can go both ways.”

“You’ve already done your part. Two months ago I wouldn’t have considered it. Now,” he finished confidently, “I think I can handle it.”

Finding a woman of similar late-night inclinations took a little longer, but Eric’s attractions coupled with his newfound assurance proved more than attractive to one bored member of the opposite sex. They had now managed to acquire uniforms and identification, though displaying the latter could lead to trouble. Eric fervently hoped they wouldn’t be asked to prove their identities. The uniforms ought to be enough.

“What now?” Lisa asked him. By mutual agreement neither mentioned the necessary liaisons. “We can’t just walk in. I’m sure we’ll be checked thoroughly."

“I think the uniforms will be sufficient, but there’s one more thing we can do. At least I’ve had plenty of practice at it lately.”

Ignoring the prone, bound form of the female technician, he set to work at her desk with his recently acquired tools. The identity cards were no more complicated than standard credit cards. Complex enough to foil the ordinary thief, but not Eric. An hour’s careful work adjusted them to match their new owners. He still hoped they wouldn’t have to use them.

There was one more thing left to do. Having broken so many laws already, Eric didn’t give it a second thought as he forced his way into the city’s administrative computer network. The false entries were made quickly. A close check would reveal them to be fraudulent, but by the time any curious inspector cross-checked with official files on Earth, they would be free or dead.

For now, a security check would identify them as Mark Lewis and Suzanne Culver, repair tech and apprentice.

“It’s a lucky thing that murderer Griss didn’t have your talent with computers and molecular-identity structures,” Lisa observed as they advanced along a dimly lit corridor.

“He was only fighting for his life,” Eric replied softly. “My motivations are stronger.”

Despite all the precautions they’d taken, it was hard to feel confident as they neared the first checkpoint. There was no way to avoid it, no way around the succession of airlocks, since there was only the single corridor leading to GATE Terminus. The Terminus itself was armored against intrusion, even to the exclusion of an emergency lock for suited personnel.

The two guards at the lock were nearing the end of their shift. Neither glanced at the pair of approaching technicians. Eric sensed the tightness of the borrowed shirt across his chest and shoulders, tried to slump to minimize the bad fit. Repeated observations of techs going and coming had taught them the correct procedure.

“Cards.” The woman who extended her hand sounded bored. So much riding on two rectangles of thin bonded plastic. Eric’s handiwork would now have its toughest test to date. This was no simple airport ticket counter, no restaurant register they were trying to deceive. It took an effort to breathe normally.

The guard inserted both cards into a slot on the front of a small machine. A bright light played first across Eric’s features, then Lisa’s. With a click both cards reappeared and were returned. His falsifications had been accepted by the Station network.

“Go on.” The guard gave an absent wave of her hand. “I haven’t got all night. What’s left of it.”

Eric walked through the electric gate with Lisa close behind. There was a hum as the lock in front of them slid back. Ahead lay a long corridor that was almost filled by the moving walkways that ran in opposite directions.

A single button at the guard’s station could turn the entire length of the tunnel into a lethal trap. He had to fight the urge to run.

They stepped onto the walkway and were carried forward. Nothing happened. They reached the next checkpoint without incident and had to resist the urge to look around to see if they were being followed. From checkpoint two to GATE Terminus there was no place to turn around.

The procedure repeated itself. “Cards, names,” muttered the guard. Eric almost forgot his newest alias. An alert Lisa jogged his memory.

“Come on. Mark, get the cobwebs out. I know it’s early, but we’re burning time.”

On to checkpoint three, then four, and then the last. Beyond checkpoint five the corridor expanded to room size. Ahead was Departure Lounge, all around them the living quarters for the colonists. Beyond the Lounge lay the GATE.

They started forward and were shocked when a voice called out sharply from behind. “You two … just a minute.” Eric stood rooted to the deck, frantically trying to decide whether to make a run for the GATE or turn and strike out. As he wrestled with two rotten choices, a lieutenant of WOSA Security stepped in front of him.

“Maxine Zandman,” she said, announcing herself. She eyed them curiously. “I don’t think I’ve seen either of you two here before.”

Eric offered her his most ingratiating smile. “We’ve just been assigned to GATE repair. Came in on the last shuttle.”

“Starting in awfully soon, aren’t you?”

“I’m in subquad transposition repair and maintenance. You know how that is. You don’t keep things moving right, you lose the whole effect. A tough piece of business to swallow anytime, let alone this early in the morning.” He indicated Lisa. “My apprentice.”

The lieutenant nodded, aware her subordinates were watching. She had no intention of mishandling this newcomer.

“Right. Nice to meet someone so enthusiastic about their work.”

“Do the best I can,” Eric told her, brushing past.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Lisa whispered to him, “What is subquad transposition?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll bet that lieutenant didn’t know either, and she wasn’t going to confess that in front of her platoon."

“What if she decides to check on it?”

“If she checks on us, we’ll check out. If she checks on our ‘work,’ it’ll take her an hour of difficult reading to find out that I’m talking bullshit. By that time we’ll be safely away.”

They made their way through the busy Lounge. Dozens of colonists milled around—chatting, reading, watching their last optos. Eric saw couples, singles working at becoming couples, anxious mothers shepherding excited children. Those soon to depart displayed the contents of green carry sacks. Bulkier supplies, he remembered, were sent through after the people.

It was impressive, seeing so many of the famous green uniforms in one place, knowing that each represented the failed hopes of thousands left unchosen. Every one in the Lounge, including the children, had passed rigorous, demanding tests to reach this point.

But not as rigorous as ours, he thought grimly.

They had no trouble passing from Lounge to GATE. A steady stream of technicians shuttled through the last lock. The guards waved the uniforms through without comment, assuming quite properly that the five checkpoints down the corridor had already done their work.

Occasionally they drew an interested glance from a repairman or supervisor, but that was all. Several hundred specialists shared duty-time at the Terminus and it was impossible for any one to know every one of his fellow workers on sight. As for the white-clad scientists and engineers who actually ran the GATE, they ignored everything but their work.

After a while the repeated stares began to make Ericnervous, until he realized no one was looking at him. Of course they would attract stares: it would have been abnormal if they hadn’t, since he was accompanied by one of the most beautiful women alive. Her work uniform couldn’t conceal that.

As he edged toward a console whose function looked familiar, he could hear the colonists talking about their destination. It was early morning, and the GATE was just recommencing service following nighttime hiatus. As he made a show of laying out his equipment, Eric wondered that they’d succeeded in breaching GATE security. Actually, it wasn’t so surprising. Security only had to keep watch for the exceptional antisocial like Griss. There was no threat of sabotage. Even the most desperate criminals on Earth wouldn’t harm the GATE, because there was always the chance they might get to use it.

The GATE itself was not particularly impressive: a modest nave located at the far end of the room, surrounded by curving metal structures and hundreds of blinking lights. Beyond it lay only blackness. Beyond that, according to theory, was normal space, and beyond that space twisted into something quite un-Einsteinian, and beyond that total darkness which became the light of the end of the line.

Eric and Lisa blended easily into the crush of activity. Kelly-green-clad colonists walked in single file toward the waiting circle in front of the GATE. Every thirty seconds, on cue from the GATE master, five of them would step forward in unison to vanish from this part of the galaxy, only to reemerge safely on the far side of Elsewhere.

Actually the process was remarkably ordinary. There was no explosion of light, no violent concussion of atoms being torn apart as the colonists took their giant step through. They just passed away, like a lone camel swallowed by a hot desert horizon. The only sound to accompany the transposition was a brief sibilant hiss as molecules were taken apart.

As he watched, Eric couldn’t keep from wondering if any of the departing colonists had been drawn into the program by Lisa’s charms. He didn’t ask her to identify any of them, and she didn’t volunteer any information. Even if a former acquaintance did show up, it wasn’t likely he’d notice her. She wasn’t close to the GATE and the eyes of every colonist were focused on the dark tunnel to elsewhere.

Off to the right, the GATE master sat studying a bank of readouts on the main control console. Every twenty seconds he would call out in a clear voice, “Ready,” and then, “step through, please.” His tone never varied and his gaze never left his instruments.