Yor Forger flitted through the city like the dragonfly she vaguely resembled in her four-engined flight pack. She went behind buildings, under bridges and straight through stands of trees, guided by a digital display in a visor that looked like a pair of welder's goggles. As she made her final approach, she swung low over a park where geese roosted beside a partially frozen pond. The birds took to the air, straight for the vast face of the tower ahead. She followed, zigzagging between the projecting buttresses that adjoined the main spire. She turned the ducted fans downward to hover as she prepared for landing. Finally, she came down on a slender balcony 170 stories above the ground, yet still less than halfway up the building known as the Deck.
She had to haul herself onto the balcony, over cables lined with icicles. It had been designed for use by maintenance staff, not residents, so the only access was through a door that led to a machine room for the main elevators. It was a moment's work to open, and she knew the arcscraper's computer would only flag it as ajar. The flight unit easily disassembled into pieces that fit in a large duffel bag that held her disguise. She emerged wrapped in a reasonably fashionable shawl that covered her head and torso, pushing a handcart full of inconsequential cargo.
As she walked down the corridor, she met a maintenance man coming the other way, undoubtedly to investigate the flag. She kept herself from freezing when she saw that he was accompanied by a security guard. "…You ask me, the new management can't be any worse than we already got," the guard said. "Anyway, see you later…" She turned a sigh of relief into a smile when he turned down another passage.
"Can I help you?" she asked the maintenance man.
"Nah, just running down a screw-up," he said. Yor considered her options. She had been careful opening the lock. If the maintenance man was as indifferent as he seemed, he might very well accept it as mechanical failure. She passed him with a smile. "Wait a minute," he said. She did freeze when she saw the security guard turn back. "Where's your badge?"
"Oh, I'm sure it's here," she said, patting the folds of her shawl. She did in fact have a badge that Becky Blackbell had created especially for her, which would undoubtedly pass muster with the maintenance man. If the guard were to run it through the computer, however, it would not be recognized. She glanced at the guard as he came up. "I'm sure it's here," she said, looking in an outer compartment of her bag. She slowly reached for one of the long, thin pins in her hair.
"Sure it is," the guard said. "None of you think you're going to be checked until you are…" He scrawled something in a yellow note pad, then tore out the page. "Here. When you get wherever you're going, show this to the manager, and he'll print you a provisional badge."
"Oh… thank you," she said, genuinely flustered. She ran her hand through her hair as she hurried off. The maintenance man might still be fooled, but others would be looking, sooner rather than later. She finally took out her badge when she reached the next buttress. It would not have worked on the elevators, but it got her into a stairwell.
She emerged into a rooftop garden, shrouded in snow. When a guard came toward her, she threw one of the pins. It looked like a large hairpin, 12 cm long. It was filled with a drug that could paralyze for 4 to 6 hours. She pushed him into a storage closet. It would be one hour, perhaps one and a half before the system flagged that he had failed to report in. She cautiously took out her visor and gazed upward. The top of the spire was little more than a pinpoint until she zoomed in. She engaged the thermal imaging as she focused on the still-tiny shape of a descending elevator. It held what looked at first like a single shape, soon discernible as one figure holding a smaller form. The capsule disappeared into the base of the spire. Within a minute, another started down. Soon, she could make out the details of the two figures. The visor clouded with tears as she saw the face of her son. He looked like his father, except for the pleasant reddish-brown eyes that seemed to look calmly back at her. "Oh, Loidy," she said, "you've never been afraid of heights. I bet you will be a pilot…"
She considered the one who carried him. The girl was at least 1.5 meters high, tall for her age if Loid had not been misjudged it. It was still surprising to see how easily she held Loidy, himself, a full two-thirds her height. Her face was fair and lightly freckled, with a distinctly pointed chin. She, too, showed no fear of the great heights below, but there was a certain difference. Robert turned his gaze here and there with the curiosity he always had. The girl merely stared steadily into the distance. Only then did Yor note one more thing: Her eyes were the same color as Loidy's.
She hastily removed her goggles, then she tapped what looked like an earring. "I have visual confirmation, an elevator is descending with Loid Forger, Junior and an unknown female aboard," she said. The transmitter was too small for countermeasures to prevent the signal from being overheard, but it would not be traceable if she did not speak for too long. "Consider her a subject of concern. Loid- I love you."
Yor descended from the rooftop by a stair accessible to the public. She moved at a steady, distinctly casual trot. She noted several guards mingling with the crowd, undoubtedly looking for her. They, too, were pointedly casual. She smiled and waved at the nearest of them as she passed from the buttress to the main building. He smiled back, and kept going. She kept herself from freezing at the sound of a voice at her side: "Yor?"