_Chapter Fourteen_
Hawkes took over, explaining the proposition to a now very much awakeAlan.
"There's going to be a currency transfer at the World Reserve Bankdowntown next Friday. At least ten million credits are going to bepicked up by an armored truck and taken to branch banks fordistribution.
"Hollis, here, happens to have found out the wave-patterns of theroboguards who'll be protecting the currency shipment. And Al Webber hassome equipment that can paralyze roboguards if we know their operationalwavelength. So it's a simple matter to leave the car unprotected; wewait till it's loaded, then blank out the robots, seize the humanguards, and drive away with the truck."
Alan frowned thoughtfully. "Why am _I_ so indispensable to thisbusiness?" He had no desire to rob banks or anything else.
"Because you're the only one of us who isn't registered on the centraldirectory. You don't have any televector number. You can't be traced."
Suddenly Alan understood. "So _that's_ why you didn't let me register!You've been grooming me for this all along!"
Hawkes nodded. "As far as Earth is concerned, you don't exist. If any ofus drove off with that truck, all they need to do is plot the truck'scoordinates and follow the televector patterns of the man who's drivingit. Capture is inevitable that way. But if _you're_ aboard the truck,there's no possible way of tracing your route. Get it?"
"I get it," Alan said slowly. _But I don't like it_, he added silently."I want to think about the deal a little longer, though. Let me sleep onit. I'll tell you tomorrow whether I'll go through with it."
Puzzled expressions appeared on the faces of Hawkes' eight guests, andWebber started to say something, but Hawkes hastily cut him off. "Theboy's a little sleepy, that's all. He needs time to get used to the ideaof being a millionaire. I'll call each of you in the morning, okay?"
The eight were shepherded out of the apartment rapidly, and when theywere gone Hawkes turned to face Alan. Gone now was the blandfriendliness, gone the warm-hearted brotherliness of the older man. Hislean face was cold and businesslike now, and his voice was harsh as hesaid, "What's this talk of thinking it over? Who said you had any choiceabout this thing?"
"Don't I have any say in my own life?" Alan asked hotly. "Suppose Idon't want to be a bank robber? You didn't tell me----"
"I didn't need to. Listen, boy--I didn't bring you in here for myhealth. I brought you in because I saw you had the potential for thisjob. I've coddled you along for more than three months, now. Given you avaluable education in how to get along on this planet. Now I'm askingyou to pay me back, a little. Byng told the truth: you're indispensableto this project. Your personal feelings are irrelevant just now."
"Who says?"
"I do."
Alan stared coldly at Hawkes' transformed face. "Max, I didn't bargainfor a share in your bank-robbing syndicate. I don't want any part of it.Let's call it quits right now. I've turned over quite a few thousandcredits of my winnings to you. Give me five hundred and keep the rest.It's your pay for my room and board and instruction the last threemonths. You go your way, I'll go mine."
Hawkes laughed sharply. "Just as simple as that? I pocket your winningsand you walk out of here? How dumb do you think I am? You know the namesof the syndicate, you know the plans, you know everything. A lot ofpeople would pay big money for an advance tip on this bit." He shook hishead. "I'll go my way and you'll go it too, Alan. Or else. You know whatthat _or else_ means."
Angrily Alan said, "You'd kill me, too, if I backed down now. Friendshipdoesn't mean a thing to you. 'Help us rob this bank, or else.'"
Hawkes' expression changed again; he smiled warmly, and when he spokehis voice was almost wheedling. "Listen, Alan, we've been planning thisthing for months. I put down seven thousand to clear your brother, justso I'd be sure of getting your cooperation. I tell you there's nodanger. I didn't mean to threaten you--but try to see my side of it. You_have_ to help out!"
Alan looked at him curiously. "How come you're so hot to rob the bank,Max? You earn a fortune every night. You don't need a million morecredits."
"No. I don't. But some of them do. Johnny Byng does; and Kovak, too--heowes Bryson thirty thousand. But I organized the scheme." Hawkes waspleading now. "Alan, I'm bored. Deadly bored. Gambling isn't gamblingfor me; I'm too good. I never lose except when I want to. So I need toget my kicks someplace else. This is it. But it won't come off withoutyou."
They were silent for a moment. Alan realized that Hawkes and his groupwere desperate men; they would never let him live if he refused tocooperate. He had no choice at all. It was disillusioning to discoverthat Hawkes had taken him in mostly because he would be useful in arobbery.
He tried to tell himself that this was a jungle world where moralitydidn't matter, and that the million credits he'd gain would help financehyperdrive research. But those were thin arguments that held noconviction. There was no justification for what he was going to do. Nonewhatsoever.
But Hawkes held him in a cleft stick. There was no way out. He hadfallen among thieves--and, willy-nilly, he would be forced to become onehimself.
"All right," he said bitterly. "I'll drive the getaway truck for you.But after it's over, I'll take my share and get out. I won't want to seeyou again."
Hawkes seemed to look hurt, but he masked the emotion quickly enough."That's up to you, Alan. But I'm glad you gave in. It would have beenrough on both of us otherwise. Suppose we get some sleep."
Alan slept poorly during what was left of the night. He kept mulling thesame thoughts round and round endlessly in his head, until he wished hecould unhinge the front of his skull and let the thoughts somehowescape.
It irritated him to know that Hawkes had taken him in primarily becausehe fit the qualifications for a plan concocted long before, and not forhis own sake. All the intensive training the gambler had given him hadbeen directed not merely toward toughening Alan but toward preparing himfor the role he would play in the projected robbery.
He felt unhappy about the robbery too. The fact that he was beingcoerced into taking part made him no less a criminal, and that wentagainst all his long-ingrained codes of ethics. He would be just asguilty as Hawkes or Webber, and there was no way out.
There was no sense brooding over it, he decided finally. When it was allover he would have enough money to begin aiming for his real goal,development of a workable hyperspace drive. He would break completelywith Hawkes, move to some other city perhaps. If his quest weresuccessful, it would in some measure be an atonement for the crime hewas going to commit. Only in some measure, though.
The week passed slowly, and Alan did poorly at his nightly work. Hismind was anywhere but on the flashing games board, and the permutationsand combinations eluded him. He lost, though not heavily.
Each night the ten members of the Syndicate met at Hawkes' apartment andplanned each step of the crime in great detail, drilling and re-drillinguntil it was second nature for each man to recite his particular part inthe robbery. Alan's was at once the simplest and most difficult; hewould have nothing to do until the others had finished their parts, butthen he would have to board the armored car and outrace any pursuers. Hewas to drive the car far outside city limits, where he would be met andrelieved of the cash by Byng and Hollis; then he was to lose the trucksomewhere and return to the city by public transit.
The day of the robbery dawned cold and clear; an autumn chill was in theair. Alan felt some anticipatory nervousness, but he was calmer than heexpected to be--almost fatalistically calm. By nightfall, he would be awanted criminal. He wondered whether it would be worth it, even for themillion credits. Perhaps it would be best to defy Hawkes and make somesort of escape try.
But Hawkes, as always a shrewd judge of human character, seemedobviously aware that Alan was wavering. He kept a close watch over him,never allowing him to stray. Hawkes was taking no chances. He wascompelling Alan to take part in the robbery.
The currency transfer was scheduled to take place at 1240, according tothe
inside information that Hollis had somehow obtained. Shortly afternoon, Hawkes and Alan left the apartment and boarded the Undertube,their destination the downtown section of York City where the WorldReserve Bank was located.
They reached the bank about 1230. The armored truck was parked outside,looking sleek and impregnable, and four massive roboguards stood watch,one by each wheel. There were three human policemen too, but they werestrictly for effect; in case of any trouble, the roboguards wereexpected to handle the rough work.
The bank was a mighty edifice indeed--over a hundred stories high,rising in sweeping setbacks to a point where its tapering top was lostin the shimmering noonday sky. It was, Alan knew, the center of globalcommerce.
Armed guards were bringing packages of currency from within the bank andwere placing them on the truck. Alan's heart raced. The streets werecrowded with office workers out for lunch; could he get away with it?
It was all precisely synchronized. As Hawkes and Alan strolled towardthe bank, Alan caught sight of Kovak lounging across the street, readinga telefax sheet. None of the others were visible.
Webber, Alan knew, was at this moment sitting in an office overlookingthe bank entrance, staring out the window at the scene below. Atprecisely 1240, Webber was to throw the switch on the wave-damper thatwould paralyze the four roboguards.
The instant the roboguards froze, the other conspirators would go intoaction. Jensen, McGuire, Freeman, and Smith, donning masks, would leapfor the three human guards of the truck and pin them to the ground. Byngand Hawkes, who would enter the bank a moment before, would stage animpromptu fist-fight with each other just inside the main entrance,thereby creating confusion and making it difficult for reinforcementguards to get past them and into the street.
Just outside the door, Hollis and Kovak would lurk. As the quartetpounced on the truck's guards, they would sprint across and yank thedriver out of the cab. Then Alan would enter quickly from the other sideand drive off, while the remaining nine would vanish into the crowd inas many different directions as possible. Byng and Hollis, if they gotaway, would head for the rendezvous to meet Alan and take the cash fromhim.
If it went off properly the whole thing should take less than fifteenseconds, from the time Webber threw the switch to the time Alan droveaway with the truck. If it went off properly.
The seconds crawled by. The time was 1235, now. At 1237 Hawkes and Byngsauntered into the bank from opposite directions. Three minutes to go.Alan's false calm deserted him; he pictured all sorts of possiblecalamities.
1238. Everyone's watch was synchronized to the second.
1239. 1239:30.
Thirty seconds to go. Alan took his position in a crowd of bystanders,as prearranged. Fifteen seconds to go. Ten. Five.
1240. The roboguards were in the act of directing the locking of thetruck; the loading had been carried out precisely on schedule. The truckwas shut and sealed.
The roboguards froze.
Webber had been right on time. Alan tensed, caught up in the excitementof the moment and thinking now only of the part he was to play.
The three policemen glanced at each other in some confusion. Jensen andMcGuire came leaping out at them----
And the roboguards returned to life.
The sound of blaster shots was heard within the bank; Alan whirled,startled. Four guards came racing out of the building, blasters drawn.What had happened to Hawkes and Byng--why weren't they obstructing theentrance, as it had been arranged?
The street was a scene of wild confusion now; people milled everywhere.Alan saw Jensen writhing in the steel grip of a roboguard. Had Webber'sdevice failed? Evidently so.
Alan was unable to move. He saw Freeman and McGuire streaking wildlydown the street with police in keen pursuit. Hollis stood staring dumblyinside the bank door. Alan saw Kovak come running toward him.
"Everything's gone wrong!" Kovak whispered harshly. "The cops werewaiting for us! Byng and Hawkes are dead. Come on--run, if you want tosave yourself!"