"It's his calculations," Ralston said, calmly. "You have to remember. He had everything figured out. It fit. Only one point eluded him. Our curse. When you brought it up, he reverted. The rest of us knew."

"You mean this has happened before?"

"Astor? Yes, of course. He is brilliant but-well-erratic. Someday, I'm afraid he won't make it back. We'll lose him."

"And that's fine with me," Alec said. He had seen quite enough of the Inner Circle for one day. Upon the table, Astor was slowly calming down, though one foot continued to thrash and kick, like the instinctive motions of a dead chicken. "I'm going home."

"I'll go with you," Ralston said.

Alec went out into the corridor, refusing to look back. The hallway was plushly decorated, lighted in a soft golden hue. A hotel-yes-and an excellent one. He waited impatiently for the elevator. Ralston joined him inside. They rode down to the lobby together. Crossing that plushly carpeted room, Alec started laughing, then couldn't stop. It suddenly seemed so funny. For years he had wanted nothing from life more than a seat on the Inner Circle. And now-at long last-he had attained that cherished goal. And for what? To do what? His first meeting and he had already driven the chairman into reversion and been forced to flee himself in a fearful rage.

Outside, he paused in front of the moving walkway-it was more than packed-and glanced up at the sky. The air was thick and black-the time seemed around midday- and he couldn't see the sun.

He shook his head, blinked, then looked again. Massive skyscrapers, old and ruined, sprouted from every corner. Upon the walkway, the flocks of pedestrians, hurtling past, kept their eyes averted toward the pavement, as if fearful of catching a fateful glance of something they might not be able to forget. Suddenly, from behind, a massive woman in a heavy armored coat crashed into him. He nearly fell. The woman sped past and leaped gracefully upon the walkway. Someone screamed.

Alec spun around, filled with sudden recognition: this wasn't San Francisco-it couldn't be-this was New York City.

But how-?

"Surprised?" asked Ralston.

"Last night-" he had forgotten about the other Superior "-I know I was in San Francisco."

"No," said Ralston. They both spoke complete English to avoid attracting attention. "That was days and days ago." He led Alec away from the walkway, back into the great shadow cast by the hotel awning. "The gas they bungled-the dose was too strong."

"Days and days?" Alec murmured, vaguely.

"A week at least."

"But I have to get home." He reached for his purse. "I don't think I have-"

"Oh, I'll be glad to loan you the fare. But first-well, I did follow you out here for a reason. There's something I want to know."

"Whether I'm going to quit the project."

"Yes," Ralston said.

Alec shrugged. "I don't see what point it would serve. You-Astor-he'd only find someone else. My work is nearly done. The patent belongs to my employer-his daughter now. If I quit, you'd run me out of the Circle. That wouldn't serve any point either."

"Then you'll continue with your work?"

"Yes." Sighing, Alec shook his head. "You can tell that to Astor, if you want."

"No. This was for my own information. I am, you see, in charge of-well-call it our investigative wing."

"You spy."

"Investigate."

"Use your own word."

"And there is a connection between your present intentions and another matter that has recently come to my attention. I want to warn you." Leaning close, Ralston whispered into Alec's ear: "Don't trust Anna."

"What?" Alec drew back as if stung.

Ralston pulled him back down. "She has been associating with this detective-this Cargill. I know it for a fact but I haven't told the others yet. This investigation is something I'm conducting on my own. Astor doesn't know about it."

"What?" Alec asked.

Ralston shook his head but answered: "The others. I'm trying to find out who they are. And I'm close, Alec, very close. A few more weeks and I'll have them."

"You think Anna's involved? That's incredible. I don't-"

"Not Anna. Cargill. He's mixed up in this somehow."

"How?"

"I don't know. Yet. But I will. I just wanted to warn you."

"But Cargill's investigating me. That's why he saw Anna."

"Three weeks ago? That's when he visited your house-the first time."

"And you don't know why."

Ralston shook his head. "I don't but-" he radiated confidence, "-I will." He stepped back suddenly. "But I better go now. Here." He pressed Alec's hand. "This will buy you a ticket home." He turned away, waving one brown fist. "Astor may want me."

"But, Ralston, I-" Alec started to pursue.

Ralston was too quick. He darted toward the hotel. He called back: "Don't tell her!"

Alec stopped, watching the other man disappear, swallowed up by the great bulk of the hotel. Then he hurried over to the walkway and leaped on board, refusing to concern himself with whom he might hit in the process. He landed safely, then let the walkway carry him. He didn't know if he was heading in the direction of the terminal and didn't care. He surrendered himself to this electronic destiny; it could carry him wherever it wished.

He had gone only a few blocks when the crowd, in mass, suddenly turned and looked straight up at the sky. Alec, in perfect conformity, looked too. A series of block letters was forming up there, bright red against the dank gray sky. He waited, reading along with the others, until the message was complete. It wasn't a news headline. It read:

AH TRAN IS COMING HERE SOON.

Beneath, appearing suddenly, was a huge banner: a photograph of Ah Tran himself. Alec peered deeply into the ageless features of this man who claimed to have a plan for the salvation of the human race, but the sky was too dark, the eyes too far away, the buzz of the crowd too distracting.

He could see nothing up there he had not seen before.

Then the walkway was moving too quickly and the message disappeared behind. Alec tucked his head into his shoulders and drifted lazily, effortlessly away.

Seven.

Passing easily through the glass wall, Anna Richmond entered the central garden and was immediately met by a cold wind that cut like ice through the thin fabric of her gown. Holding her arms around her chest, she hurried to another place in the wall, where a dozen plastic dials were embedded in the soft wood. She turned one slightly to the left and the wind grew noticeably warmer. She touched another dial, letting her hand rest briefly, and was answered by the piercing shrieks of a flock of exotic birds. Then, the scene now properly set, she moved off into the high foliage. She stepped lightly, barely conscious of her own movements, lost in a trance. The effects of the sleeping drug Eathen had administered the night before had not wholly worn off. In particular, her toes were numb and tingly, as if asleep, and she shook her fingers constantly as she moved ever deeper into the jungle of the garden. She could walk out here without thinking in any event. She found the carefully hidden paths and followed them with knowledgeable ease. They were as familiar to her as the pattern of veins on the backs of both hands.