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Jason managed to make it to the CCC District without anyone recognizing him. People's reluctance to look anyone directly in the face is definitely working to my advantage, he thought, as he stepped off the shuttle and started threading his way through the thick crowd.
He kept Mu-Monk concealed in his coat. The vid he had viewed back at his apartment had also shown several shots of him with Mu-Monk resting on his shoulder. The monkey would be a dead giveaway in the most literal sense of the phrase.
As he approached the food-serve that Tinker had designated as their contact point, Jason wondered for probably the tenth time why Tinker would select a contact point so close to the inner workings of the Patriarchy, and through the puppet government, the ULC. Then he remembered, he had asked Tinker that question shortly before leaving the Pipes this last time.
"It's right under their nose," Tinker had replied. "It's what makes it such a great location. We've found that the closer we get to the Patriarchy, the weaker their security. I know it's a bit bizarre, but it's true. We've had little trouble infiltrating the CCC offices. My theory is that the CCC depends so much on everyone being stupefied by the mind messages they constantly receive through the earrings, they figure no one will develop enough curiosity to infiltrate them. As best I can tell, their theory has held up well for quite a long time. It's just that we aren't being manipulated by the mind messages, which gives us an advantage—one of the few we have."
Despite the logical explanation, Jason still felt nervous every time he entered the neighborhood and especially when he came in sight of the CCC building.
He walked into the food-serve, momentarily concerned that he wouldn't be able to find a seat. The food-serve was jammed with people, most of them on their lunch break. He finally found an unoccupied table near the rear. He didn't particularly like the seat selection. It was too far from any exit. If anyone reported him, he would have a difficult time escaping. Still, he couldn't very well just stand around and wait to be recognized. He made his way to the table and sat down facing the front door.
He called up the menu on the screen and ordered his customary soyburger and fibersalad, but this time ordered not one, but two martinis. Before leaving the Pipes, Tinker had promised to have someone always at the computer console waiting for a signal from Jason. Ordering two martinis was the emergency signal that would notify Tinker and the rest of the family that he was in grave danger and had to be picked up as soon as possible.
Jason had debated on the shuttle ride over whether to try to make it to the one entranceway to the Pipes that he and Mu-Monk were familiar with, but had decided against it. It was just too far and would require him taking too much time traveling on autowalks and the like. There would simply be too much exposure.
At the same time, he hated putting Tinker, and possibly several of the other children, in danger, but he couldn't figure any way around it. Besides which, it had been almost twenty-four hours since he had had any sleep, and his mind and body were starting to suffer the ill effects of too little sleep along with too much stress.
A few minutes passed before the tabletop opened and his food appeared. Jason sat there, quietly eating his food, occasionally slipping a tidbit to the equally hungry Mu-Monk.
As Jason finished off the soyburger and started to munch on the salad, he noticed it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep his eyes open. He was finally out of any immediate danger, at least apparently so, and the sudden quiet was allowing his frayed nerves to relax. Unfortunately, he was becoming too relaxed.
Well, what would it hurt if he dozed off for just ten or fifteen minutes? he thought, as his eyes started to close. He forced them open again. No, it was crazy to think it was safe to fall asleep. At any moment, someone might recognize him. If he fell asleep, he might wake up to find he was about to take the longest sleep of his life.
Only ten minutes, his mind insisted. What's the harm? Just ten minutes would restore his mental alertness, allow him to think more clearly. Ten minutes...just ten minutes.
A tap on the shoulder brought him flying out of his chair, Mu-Monk chattering noisily inside his coat.
"I suggest you not resist arrest, Mr. Joval," the young man in the gray and black Sleeper outfit said. "I understand that a stunwand can be rather uncomfortable. I happen to have mine set on maximum stun, as well."
Jason shook his head to clear his vision. He blinked his eyes. And when they cleared, he saw not one, but two Sleepers, one standing on either side of him. Both of them were pointing their stunwands at him, and the looks on their faces indicated they wouldn't hesitate to use them.
"You may come on your own accord, quietly, or we can go ahead and subdue you with these," the same young man said, waving his wand in front of Jason's face. "It's really your choice."
What had happened? Just seconds ago, he had been sitting here munching on his salad, and no one had been around. These two had suddenly appeared from nowhere.
No, that wasn't accurate, Jason realized, as he started to stand up. He had fallen asleep despite everything. He had made a fatal mistake, a brief nap, one that would likely cost him his life.
As he walked towards the front of the food-serve with one of the Sleepers in front and the second one behind, a stunwand pressed into the small of his back, Jason weighed his options.
Mu-Monk was still tucked away in his coat. He was fairly certain neither man had noticed him. Perhaps when they reached the walkway, he could toss the monkey into the men's faces, startle them just long enough for him to make good his escape.
But could he do that to his little friend, even if it meant saving his life? Jason knew the answer was no. He wouldn't sacrifice Mu-Monk in such a manner. He'd been rough enough on the little guy already today. He would have to find another way. He would bide his time and look for an opening. Perhaps if he were docile and cooperative, the Sleepers would drop their guard for just a moment.
Even as he had the thought, he knew the likelihood of it happening was nearly zero. These guys were professionals. They spent their lives tracking down the relatively small number of citizens who, for one reason or another, failed to report to their Sleeper Stations on time. It was unlikely they would be fooled into relaxing their guard.
They reached the outside. As they exited to the street, Jason could hear some of the comments that came from the crowd that had gathered. Fragments of, "It's him, that Joval character. Can you believe it? Millions of credits...stolen. Every bit of it. Funny, he doesn't look very dangerous. It doesn't pay to mess with the Patriarchy..."
Jason was surprised at how many of the comments were derogatory. Less than forty-eight hours ago, he had been these same people's hero. They had spent hundreds of collective hours watching him play on the vid screen. How could they turn on him so quickly?
The Sleeper Wagon was in view now. A third attendant sat behind the wheel. Jason wondered what Tinker would think when he arrived and didn't find him sitting in the food-serve. Suddenly, Jason's heart skipped several beats. What if one of the Sleepers stayed behind and waited to see if anyone else showed up? Did they know to look for Tinker? Hell, the little guy was suspicious enough with his oversized coat with its multiple pockets and the weird little hat that they might pick him up out of general principle. Was there no way to warn his friends?
"Head down, Mr. Joval. We wouldn't want you to bump it getting in." The Sleeper behind him pushed the stunwand harder against Jason's kidneys.
Despite the pressure on his back, Jason stopped a foot or two from the Sleeper Wagon and looked around. It might be the last time I see anything of the MED, he told himself. Strange, I'm not all that troubled by the thought. I did my best to make a change. Maybe I failed, and for sure only a very few people will ever know that I tried, but I'll know. And I guess in the final analysis, that's what makes the biggest difference.
He lowered his head and climbed into the Wagon.
As the shuttle pulled away from the curb, Jason considered his plight. He was sitting in the back seat of a Sleeper Wagon, the guards who had arrested him on either side, with the driver in the front seat. Three against one, he thought. I've played worse odds at the rumbuc table, but rumbuc was a mental game. His present situation was going to call for more physical prowess. The driver was noticeably smaller and could probably be dealt with, but the guards on either side of him were close to his own size, trained and armed. He didn't like the odds.
But he had to do something. I can't just sit here until we arrive at the Sleeper Station, where the odds would be even worse.
"I wouldn't try anything if I were you," the guard on his left said before Jason had so much as moved a muscle. He glanced toward the guard and noticed the stunwand pressed against his side.
The guard smiled at him. "Believe me, it won't be necessary."
Necessary? Jason thought, suddenly confused. What did he mean by that?
"What's happening, Jason?" The driver looked in the rearview mirror to stare at his prisoner. That voice was very familiar, Jason thought, growing more disoriented by the second. What was going on here?
The driver turned around and smiled. Jason suddenly realized what was going on. The attendant was Tinker.
"We really had him going there, didn't we?" the guard to his right said, as he leaned over Jason and high-fived the other guard.
"I'll say we did. Did you see the look on his face when I woke him up? I thought he was going to barf all over himself."
Jason felt like someone had removed every bone in his body. Suddenly, he felt like a bowl of gelatin left at room temperature too long. He sat back in his seat and took several deep breaths.
"Sorry for the scare," Tinker said, although his beaming face suggested he was thoroughly enjoying himself. "It was the best plan we could think of on such short notice. I'd also like to see the looks on the Sleepers when they wake up to find their uniforms and wagon missing. In fact, we'll have to abandon it soon. It won't take long before it's as hot as our friend here."
Jason watched as one of the boys pulled his fake eyebrows off and the other one started wiping off the make-up that had added years to his young face.
"You could have given me some hint back there as to what was going on," Jason said, suddenly angry at the charade.
"Don't blame them," Tinker replied. "It was my idea not to tell you. You might have reacted differently. And, who knows, maybe someone in the crowd would have figured out what was going on. This way, your reactions were perfectly consistent with the situation. You couldn't have acted the part any better."
Jason nodded and slowly felt the anger slip away. After all, he wasn't on his way to the last sleep. Instead, he was back with his friends and would soon be back with Seattle. He relaxed his head back against the seat and sighed.
"Wake me up when we get to the Pipes." With that, he closed his eyes and resumed his nap.