Chapter 19 Chapter Seventeen

Kansas City is an old-fashioned city that has barely been rebuilt.From the southeast, you can drive almost downtown, all the way to Swope Park, without parking or paying an entry fee. You can fly in, or go the other way: land on the landing pad north of the Missouri River and walk through the tunnel into town, or land on the landing half pad in downtown just south of Memorial Hill. I decided to go both ways; I wanted to leave the car with me so I didn't have to go through the check system to get it.In case of an emergency, I don't have to rush outside while showing the code to the parking lot staff.In an emergency, I don't like to walk in the tunnel - nor do I like to use the lift from the takeoff platform.It's easy to get stuck in that.

Frankly, I don't want to go to town at all. I turned the car onto Route 40 and headed for the Meyerblevard tollbooth.Long queues of vehicles waited to pay for the contested right to drive on the city's streets.Another car drove up behind me and immediately I felt surrounded.I feel strongly that if only the decision had been made to enter the parking lot and go into town as a public passenger.But the toll collector charged me without even looking at me.I glanced at him, everything was fine, but I couldn't tell if he was being controlled. Relieved, I drove through the gate of the tollbooth - only to be stopped on the other side of the tollbooth.A bar was in front of me and I stopped the car.A cop stuck his head in through my open side. "Security check," he said, "come out!"

I protested that my car had just been inspected, "I don't doubt that." He agreed, "There's a safe driving campaign going on in this city. Here's your card. Pick up your car at the barricade. Get out now and go into that door." He pointed to a low building not far from the road. "why?" "Check eyesight and reflexes," he explained. "Come on, you're in the way." In my head, I saw that pandemic map again, with Kansas City glowing red.I'm sure the city is completely "occupied"; therefore, the mild-mannered policeman is almost certainly possessed.I don't need to look over his shoulder.

He couldn't be killed with a pistol and scrambled from the scene; I had to follow his orders.If it was an ordinary policeman, I could just bribe him and give him money when he gave me the card.But the Titans don't need money. Maybe they want money too?Who can tell. I got out of the car, muttered dissatisfiedly, and walked slowly towards the building.The door in front of me was marked "Entrance" and the one farther away was marked "Exit".As I walked forward, a man came out.I really want to ask him what's going on inside. This is a temporary building and the old fashioned doors are not automatic.I pushed the door open with my toe, looked to the sides and up before going in.There seems to be no danger.Inside was an empty reception room with a door open.

Someone shouted from inside, "Come in." I went in with the utmost vigilance. There were two men inside, both in white coats, and one had a doctor's speculum on his head.He looked up at me and said briskly, "It will take a minute, come here." He closed the door by which I had come in; I heard the latch snap. It's a lot more effortless than what we do at Constitution Club.Given the time, I would certainly appreciate this approach.On a long table are boxes for transporting the owner.Already turned on and warming up.The second guy already had one in his hand—for me, I know—and he hid his hand at his side so I couldn't see the slug in his hand.The box in which the owner is delivered does not alert the victim; medical personnel always have something on hand that may seem strange to outsiders.

All that was left was for me to attach my eye to the eyepiece of a very common acuity tester.The "doctor" would keep me still, cover my eyes, and pretend to read the test data to me, while his "assistant" installed a master for me.No violence, no mistakes, no resistance. It's not even necessary to show the victim's back (that's what the master taught me during my own "efforts"), just put the master on the exposed neck.Before leaving, have the new recruit tidy up and cover his master. "Here it is," repeated the "doctor," "put your eyes on the eyepieces."

I walked over to the bench with the eye tester and started doing what he said.I turned around suddenly. The assistant has already approached, holding the prepared box in both hands.When I turned around, he quickly turned his hand over so that I wouldn't see it. "Doctor," I said, "I'm wearing contact lenses. Shall I take them off?" "No, no," he said quickly, "don't waste your time." "But, doctor," I protested, "I want you to see if my contact lenses fit. There's something wrong with the lens in my left eye—" I raised my hands and lifted the upper and lower lids of my left eye, " did you see it?"

He said angrily, "This is not a clinic. Now, please—" They were both within reach.I lowered my arms and grabbed them both with a jerk—strong fingers gripping their shoulder blades.My hands touched the soft, mushy stuff under their clothes at the same time.As soon as I touched that thing, I felt trembling all over, and my world was spinning. I once saw a cat hit by a car; the poor thing jumped four feet high, arched the wrong way, and danced on all four legs.These two unlucky ones are about the same as that poor cat.The muscles all over their bodies twitched violently, as if all the motor cells were strongly stimulated at the same time.

Perhaps all their motor cells were indeed stimulated at the same instant, the instant I gripped and crushed their masters. I can't hold them anymore.They both jerked under my arms and fell to the ground.There was no point in clamping them anymore, after the first violent convulsions they collapsed, unconscious, probably dead. There is a knock on the door.I yelled, "Wait a minute. The doctor is busy." The knocking stopped. I first made sure the door was locked, then turned around, leaned over, and lifted up the "doctor"'s clothes to see what I had done to his master.

It was a messy, slimy mess that had begun to stink.The same on the other--I'm genuinely glad to see that.If the slug hadn't died, I'd have shot it, but I wasn't sure I'd kill the slug without killing those two too.I left those two there, dead or alive—or I was caught by the Titans again, and they had to go.I can't help them. The master waiting in the box is another matter.It only took a few seconds for me to wipe them all out with the fan beam at full capacity.Against the wall were two large wooden crates.I don't know if there was an owner in it, but I have no reason to believe it wasn't; I fired over and over until the crate was reduced to charcoal.

There was another knock on the door. I took a hasty look around the house, looking for a place to hide the two men, but with nowhere to hide, I decided to implement the most typical military maneuver: retreat. I was about to go out and felt something was missing.I hesitated, and looked around the room again. The room is almost empty; there doesn't seem to be anything available to me.I could use the clothes of "The Doctor" and his assistant, but I don't even want to touch their stuff.At this time, I noticed the dust cover of the vision tester on the bench.I unbuttoned my shirt, grabbed the dust jacket, scrunched it up, and tucked it between the shirt and my shoulder blades.I buttoned up my shirt collar and zipped my jacket so tight that the bulge was just the right size. Then, I went out--in an unfamiliar place, walking into a place I had never been before with trepidation. But in fact, I feel a little cocky. Another cop looked at my vehicle inspection slip.He gave me a wary look, then motioned for me to get in the car.I got in the car and he said, "Go to Police Headquarters, under City Hall." "Police station, City Hall," I repeat, stepping on the gas pedal.I followed that direction, turning onto Nichols Highway. I came to a clearing and the traffic was sparse so I hit the button and changed the plates, hoping no one saw.The license plate number that I exposed in front of the gate of the toll gate has probably been published and searched extensively.Wish I could change the color of the car and the moldings. Before reaching Maggie Highway, I turned to a sloping curve, and then drove closely to the side road of the residential area.It's eighteen o'clock in District 6 time, four and a half hours before I return to Washington to report.