I could track Heller easily. Now here he was, only a few hundred feet up in that same building and I couldn't track him at all! (Bleep) Spurk!

Raht and Terb!

I did know where they must be—the Silverwater Memorial Hospital over on Roosevelt Island. But I did not know what names they were registered under.

I couldn't figure out the subway system on how to get there. I took a cab.

Only because I knew their approximate date of entry and the state they had been in was I able to run them down in the wards "as a caring friend."

And there they were. Ambulant! They weren't even in bed! They were sitting by themselves in a patients lounge, watching TV! The nerve of them. I knew they had done all that just to get a vacation at Voltar government expense!

They became aware that somebody was standing there in a deadly manner.

"Officer Gris!" gasped Terb. He raised the casts on his arms protectively.

Raht didn't speak. His jaws were still wired up. "What are you doing here?" said Terb somewhat unnecessarily.

"I am doing your jobs!" I thundered at them.

"Sssh!" said Terb, waving his casts about.

"Why 'sssh'?" I demanded. And indeed, why? There were only some old and chronically ill people in the lounge. Riffraff. "You are neglecting your government duties! You left the 831 Relayer on! Negligence!"

A nurse came tearing in from the hall with a what's-wrong, what's-wrong, this-is-a-hospital look on her face. I stopped her! I flipped out my Federal credentials and in minutes I was talking to a chief administrator.

"Those two men are malingerers," I said. "They are evading the draft. They have been recalled to service. When can you get them out of here?"

He was impressed. He said, "The records here show compound fractures. They have some time to go before they can be unwired and have the casts sawed off. It would be dangerous to just discharge them."

"If you don't cooperate, I'll cut off your Medicaid," I said. "The government must be served."

He knew that. I didn't tell him which government. He grovelled and said he'd do the best he could.

I went back and told Raht and Terb to get that 831 Relayer turned off as soon as possible. I gave them my phone number at the Bentley Bucks Deluxe Hotel and told them, acidly, that when they'd caught up on their TV, they were to phone me that they were on duty once more and that, until then, their pay was suspended.

I left. I was pretty cross, actually. Here I was working my skull to the bone while others just lay about.

But it didn't solve my problem. I had to know what Heller was doing.

I returned at vast expense by taxi to the hotel.

Before I undertook my next step, I should surely check on Heller.

Utanc was out. I had missed lunch. I ordered room service to send me up three shrimp cocktails and ate them moodily.

Then inspiration! Food sometimes has that effect on one. I remembered the telescope.

I unpacked it and went out on the terrace. Certainly one of those rooms in the Empire State Building was his.

There was trouble with the image. Unclear. Sort of yellow. I went and read the instructions.

This telescope, when you turned it on, wasn't really a telescope as such. It threw a beam. The beam sensed the other side of a wall by going through the spaces between molecules of a wall and then not finding any. When it didn't find any more to go through, it made a patch of energy which acted as a mirror. And the image on that mirror was what came back to the viewer. It also had an audio pickup. Well, well. It sure looked like a telescope.

I tried again and then saw what it was. Smog. The poor telescope thought the smog was a solid wall and tried to construct reflective mirrors all along the way. Too much smog. Too much distance. I did get a vague impression of stenographers on people's desks and things but nothing useful. Heller's office, I suddenly remembered, faced south anyway! The other side of the building. (Bleep)! I had to get on the job right away. Duty demanded it! No possible delay could be tolerated!

Utanc came back, followed by two bellboys who looked more like mountains under her purchases. I saw signs on the wrappers: Saks, Lord and Taylor, Tiffany. I hoped we would have enough money to get home!

She came out on the veranda.

"We got to stay here for some time," I said. "I hope we will have money enough to get home!"

She opened her purse. "Almost all of the hundred thousand left," she said. I gaped. After Rome, Paris, London and Washington? What a money manager this wild creature from the Kara Kum desert was! Amazing!

She was friendly, too. Talking to me even.

"My goodness, look at that!" she said, putting her finger in her mouth. She was staring at the Empire State Building bathed in the setting sun. "My, it's tall and bold and hard! So HIGH! It's a sight that goes right through you!"

"Indeed, it does," I said with a shudder, thinking of my horrible experience with it.

She had something on her mind. She looked at me prettily. "Sultan Bey, do you suppose that when we've had some supper and it is nice and dark in your room, I might come in and... well... you know."

Oh, joy!

Never before in my life had I heard such a wonderful plan!

Duty could wait!

More than my spirits rose to the occasion!

Of course, it was wonderful.

But Utanc, about 10:00 P.M., seemed a bit restless. She got up and went to her room. I myself felt too exhilarated to go to sleep. I heard her moving around and, presently, the penthouse elevator arrived and departed.

Curious, I picked the lock of the door to her bedroom.

She was gone!

Oh, well, probably out for a walk to get some fresh air.

I myself felt masterful. Suddenly I realized that my luck had changed, that it had been changed for some time in fact. The thing to do is ride the crest of good luck. I would take this telescope and go over, right now, and have a look at Heller's suite.

I looked at a street map, found I was only a mile or so from the Gracious Palms. I got dressed in dark clothes. The telescope was in a thin, long case with a carrying handle, so I picked it up.

Shortly, in a cab, I arrived at an apartment house just north of the Gracious Palms. It was a very quiet street. The apartment house seemed old. There was no doorman I could bribe to let me on the roof. There was only a vast array of polished brass mailboxes and buzzers.

Genius. I would choose a name on the top floor, get entrance and then, agilely, get onto the roof.

A top-floor apartment—22B. And what a name, "Margarita Pompom Pizzazz." What an attractive name! Probably a showgirl with lots of boyfriends, used to being buzzed late at night. I buzzed.

Apparently you got a phone call back and you had to answer the phone. It rang. I answered.

"Who is it?" said a voice—the quality of the phone was bad.

"An old flame," I said, hoping the quality was equally as bad on the way back up the wires.

The door clicker clicked promptly. I pushed it open, got in the elevator and got out on the 22nd floor. There was a stairway emergency escape to the roof at the end of the hall. I headed for it.

Halfway there, I became aware of a door cracked open on a chain. It was 22B. A voice said, "Who are you?" Musically.

Through the three-inch crack I could see part of a woman's face. She must be about sixty! Welcome still registered on it.

"Roof inspector," I said.

"What?" No welcome.

"Roof inspector," I repeated. "Got to inspect the roof."

"You mean you didn't come up here for a fling?"

No, no. I was a lot too spent! "Roof inspector," I said, tapping the case I held.

The door slammed. Loudly!

Oh well, I'd heard it takes all kinds to make this planet. I went on up the stairs. The emergency exit door was locked. I picked it expertly. It opened upon a roof festooned with tall air-conditioner units which blocked clear views.