And let the phone ring twenty times before I gave up.

“Don’t worry, Jim,” I reassured myself. “Something came up, he couldn’t get to the phone. He’s a tough lad—he’s all right. Try again in twelve hours.” Despite all this, still exhausted, I had trouble getting back to sleep.

By the time Chaise arrived in the morning I had worked all of the details out. I had made a diagram of the construction, as well as printing out a list of all the materials that I would need. I slid the printout sheets across the table to him.

“Here is a list of everything that I will need to set the trap. The sooner I get all of it the sooner you will get your armored truck.”

He flipped through the pages, growing more perplexed all the time.

“What is all this? Seven hundred and fifty square meters of microwave-oven screening? Four multi-megawatt holo projectors—alight truck-plywood-aluminum powder-iron filings-what are you going to do with all this?”

“Perform the heist of the century. Now you can get it for me—or we can sit here talking about it. In which case we won’t be able to finish in time. Over to you.”

His eyes did a good job of boring holes into my skull. I blew on my fingernails, then buffed them on my shirt. I won the waiting game.

“If you are just playing games with me, diGriz …”

“I assure you that I am not. Get me all of these items and I will get you the money. Now one important question-is this part of the world, this city-what do you call it?”

“Sunkist-by-the-Sea.”

“Charming. Is this city and the surrounding countryside under satellite observation?”

“All of this world is under satellite observation. Whatever you do will be seen, every moment traced and recorded.”

“Good. That is just the way I want it. I want them to see what they believe happened. I want their attention misdirected. So by the time they discover the truth we will be long gone. Where is Igor?”

“Sleeping in the truck.”

“Wake him. Send him back to Fetorrscoria. Have him get everything I need and bring it back here. I am sure you know how to scatter the purchases about so no one supplier gets suspicious. I’ll buy the van here. Don’t worry-it will never be traced.”

After one more head-drilling look he. picked up his phone and called Igor.

“He is on the way. Before he gets here you have enough time to explain just what you have in mind.”

“Of course,” I said, sliding the diagram over to him. “Like all good magic it is simple when you have it explained to you.”

Chaise was actually smiling when Igor arrived. “Yes, I do believe that it will work.” The smile vanished. “But this is going to have to work, isn’t it, Jim? You have too much riding. on this to make any mistakes.” I turned away; it wasn’t worth bothering to respond to his endless threats. I waited until Igor had departed before I went in and poured myself the first drink of the day.

“A little early in the day for the hooch,” Chaise said.

“Perhaps. And it is not going to be the last. I intend to make an easy day of it, because the hard work won’t begin until Igor returns with the supplies. What about the van that I will need?”

“There are dealers in the city. Use the card I gave you. If there problems getting instant delivery, use cash.” He passed over a thick wad of bills. “Finish that drink when you return. I have better things to do than watch you imbibe.”

Chaise dropped me off in the center of the town near a Wings and Wheels dealer. I watched him drive away. I had a half an hour before I had to make my call to Bolivar. There was a restaurant and bar nearby, empty at this time of day. I had a drink in the patio and phoned at noon. The phone answered on the second ring.

“Bolivar! “

There was a buzz and a crackle, then his voice.

“I’m not here at the present. But everything is fine. I can’t go into details on an open line. Please call again at this time, two days from now. Over and out. “

Something was happening-and I had no idea what. So I was not going to worry about it. Put it from my mind and concentrate on the job at hand. I finished my drink and walked back to Wings and Wheels.

This really was a rich little part of Fetorr. Instead of a robot salesman, there was actually a human being doing this smarmy job.

“Good morning, sir! My name is Jumanne and I am completely at your service. We’ve just had a delivery of personalized copters, two-Beaters, just perfect for you and your beloved. Each vehicle comes with your name in gold covering all the surfaces, fitted at no extra charge.”

“Emm …” I said, which filled him with enthusiasm.

“A wonderful choice! Of course you might have your beloved’s name instead of your own. Still without any extra charge whatsoever. Her, his or its cherished name surrounding you with fond memories as you fly…”

“I need a light van.”

He shifted gears smoothly. “Long-running, no maintenance, no unsprung weight, lifetime guarantee, on sale for today only, our Loaded-Meyster-Shyster is exactly what you want…”

“What colors you got?”

Kaia’s cashcard worked fine. As did the driving record and license of one of his employees that was held in the central computer’s records. No other queries were made. My clothes, money, cash tip and mere presence in this habitat of the good and golden was passport enough. I drove out into the sunlit brightness of the day.

I spent the next few hours apparently driving around at random through the city and suburbs of Sunkist-by-theSea. Which really did live up to its name. The houses were mansions, their swimming pools were lakes. The women strolling in and out of the expensive shops were gorgeous and glamorous beyond belief. When I nodded serenely to a traffic policeman he gave me a snappy salute in return. This sun-scrubbed paradise reflected a direct contrast to the grit and grime of Fetorrscoria. It was as though all of the money and life had been squeezed out of the one city and lavished on the other-which was probably true. I could readily understand why the galactic tax men and union organizers were zeroing in on the planet. In a way I wished that I could have helped them. Instead of crime and havoc I should be digging out all the dirty deals that the plutocratic financial barons had devised. Jim diGriz-Warrior of the People! A not very likely scenario. I rode on.

But I was doing more than sightseeing. Not all at once, but in little chunks, I managed to drive the route that the armored car would take. I had to smile. I could pull it off.

“Congratulations, Jim,” I congratulated myself. “You really are the best. When they made you they broke the mold. This little bank heist will go down in the annals of perfect crimes.”

Then depression hit because not only would I not be making a profit for all my efforts, at the risk of a lifetime in some sordid jail, but I was doing it under duress and blackmail. Even if it worked perfectly I would still be rooted in the same black spot. The bullseye in the middle of the target. And Angelinawhat of her?

But worry only gives one ulcers. Back at the rendezvous I poured myself a heroically large drink, stretched out on the bed and watched the sports channel on the gogglebox. It was a clickett, or crikket, match, I could not tell which from the adenoidal accents of the announcer. A recently revived sport that should have remained blissfully dead. Balls, bats, stumps, people in white uniforms running about; I was asleep within seconds.

The grate of wheels in the drive outside woke me from a most pleasant sleep. The endless clickett game was still in progress and I received great pleasure by killing it. It was after dark and Igor had returned with his purchases. Two days to go. I yawned and stretched. It was going to be a long night.

And an even longer day after that. I was chewing uppers like candy and knew that my abused system would pay for all this later. Igor wasn’t much help so I told him to retire. I would use the workbots to assist me. They not only did a better job than he could but they seemed to be a lot brighter.