“I still don’t understand how you plan to try this,” she told him later that night. Around them the dimmed lights of the walkways glowed softly yellow. A few couples and groups strolled among the fountains and the soaring roses that benefited from the light gravity, drinking in the sight of Earth and stars.
“We can’t pass ourselves off as colonists. Everyone’s screened prior to GATing. For that matter, I don’t see how you expect us to get as far as the Departure Lounge.”
“I’m sure you’re right about passing ourselves off as colonists,” he told her as they turned a rounded corner. “The quota is tight, and the final ID must be exacting. Don’t you remember the story of that murderer—what was his name?—Griss or something like that. He tried to do it ten years ago. Figured once he was through the GATE he was free to start a safe, new life. He was right about that much.
“He did everything. Got himself a counterfeit departure suit and identification card, memorized the procedure, learned all the right responses. Hell of a scandal about it. And then he failed at the last minute, having passed all the checks and autocurbs, because his group leader didn’t recognize him.
“The colonists spend six months preparing to buy the GATE. They’re too well known to one another for a stranger to slip in with them.”
“Then how are we going to do it?”
“We’re not going to try and pass ourselves off as colonists, Lisa. We’re going to pass ourselves off as GATE technicians.”
She shook her head. “Suppose someone asks us to fix something?”
“I can do that. I know how portions of the GATE are put together.”
She gaped at him. “How could you know that?”
“Selvern, the company I’ve worked for, is one of the major suppliers of replacement components for the GATE. I’ve helped to design newer, more compact parts for the Station off and on for the last ten years. I don’t know how everything works, of course. No one man does. But I know enough to fool an unsuspecting supervisor.
“I have something like an eidetic memory, Lisa. I remember every project I’ve ever worked on. It’s one of the reasons I’ve been able to advance so fast in my career. My old career, I should say. I can make it sound like I know what I’m doing, and you can be my apprentice. That way you shouldn’t have to answer any technical questions.”
“Assuming it works, what then?”
“It only takes a second to actually make the passage. I’m hoping we can make a run for the GATE and slip through ahead of the assigned colonists in front of us. I won’t know for sure until I see the actual layout of the GATE chamber. If that doesn’t look like it’s possible, I may be able to operate the Station myself. We’ll study the procedure.”
“What about guards? They’re not going to let some lowly technician take over the main consoles.”
“I think the guards are all stationed outside the Departure Lounge. Anyone admitted to the Station itself would already have cleared as many security checks as necessary. Once we’re inside”—he hesitated uneasily—“I think I can cope with any physical reactions. I’ve done so these past weeks. I don’t want to hurt anyone. With luck I won’t have to. But they’re not going to stop us, Lisa.”
“You make everything sound so plausible. What if you don’t make the GATE operate properly?”
His reply was quietly matter-of-fact. “Then we’ll be dead, and Tarragon will have failed anyway because we’ll still be together.”
She put her arm around his waist. “My old life is already dead, Eric, Either we’ll have one together or we won’t have one at all.”
He nodded slowly. “I’ve nothing to go back to. Everything I want in life is here now.”
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.”
