15 - The Utopia Affair Read Online Free PDF

limits to the guests. They aren't supposed to care how everything works." He pulled the little bus into a numbered slot and they got out. "Your luggage'll be safe here. This is Security."
    A door ahead of them confirmed this, and opened into a small reception room. A secretary looked up, and the driver said, "Klaus Rademeyer. Just came in on the supply flight."
    She looked in a narrow bin to her left and found a folder. "Right here. Thank you, Jimmy."
    He touched his hat to her and told Illya, "She'll take over here. I'll see that your bags get up to your room as soon as it's assigned."
    Illya approached the desk as Jimmy left, and the secretary looked him over for comparison with his picture. She gave him a good professional smile, bid him welcome and invited him to sit down. In the next few minutes she gave him a quick run-through on his back ground, took his fingerprints and cross-checked his employment record and political affiliations, all with the utmost grace and charm. It felt like a casual conversation, and if Illya had not been a professional himself he might not have spotted the thorough, intensive grilling that was going on. He played it on the same level and thought he acquitted himself rather well.
    Then he was shown through into a comfortably furnished waiting room, where he found the latest issue of Spirou and settled down with it. He had scarcely finished when the next door opened and a pretty little blonde stepped out. "Hi. I'm here to see you through Personnel."
    He rose and accepted the hand she extended with a crisp inclination of a few degrees from the waist—that vestigial bow which distinguishes the educated European. She led him through the door and into an efficiently organized maze.
    His first acquisition was a large manila envelope full of brochures. During the next few hours he added to it
    —mimeographed information sheets, mostly with a few personalized items like his locker assignment, room key, and employee identification. Most important was the general schedule. Some things happened hourly, some things happened once a year; but everything happened just when it was supposed to happen, and lasted precisely as long.
    The first item scheduled for the new employee was a weekly orientation lecture, set for Sunday morning, two and a half days away. Until that time he would be working a short shift, learning his routines, and was expected to learn his way around the Security Area, discovering where everything was.
    Illya approved wholeheartedly of this; it would give him a chance to find Waverly's place and probably leave a bug there. His first job, though, would be to study the maps and plans in his bulging manila envelope. Always make sure of the local customs and taboos. You never know who you might be offending by some thing you hadn't even thought of .
    Wearing the gold tab with his Employee Number stamped in it, his pass to wander at will backstage, he consulted a wall-mounted directory and identified the area of his billet. He started for it on foot, hooked a ride on a fork-lift partway, shifted to an electric cart, dropped off at a convenient spot and walked the rest of the way.
    His goal, when he reached it, was a single apartment, not spacious but quite adequate. A private bath, which he appreciated, and a Murphy bed. He pulled the latter down, sat down on it, dumped the big envelope and began sorting.
    A technical sheet caught his eye, and he read the instructions for the small black-and-white television screen in the corner—a directory was available, so he could find Waverly with a minimum of trouble. Another glossy page told him that his portable radio would be inoperable here because of a blanket of RF interference across all the communication bands. This failed to disturb him because he had brought no portable radio. Section Eight had known about the jamming, and because of it he had been outfitted with four specially designed listening devices.
    This brought his mind back to his