The Prisoner's Dilemma Read Online Free PDF Page A

that the authorities are on high alert, and there’s been no activity reported anywhere near Stonetown—”
    “And Milligan can spot a Ten Man a mile away,” Kate put in. “And he can do more than
spot
him, if it comes to that.”
    The boys nodded, even though the last time Milligan encountered Mr. Curtain’s henchmen he’d needed several weeks to recover from the injuries. The circumstances had been different then—they knew because they’d been there—and they quite shared Kate’s confidence in her father.
    “You’re right,” Sticky said. “They couldn’t be safer if they had a dozen guards.”
    “Yes, they’re fine,” Reynie said. “I’m sure they’re fine.”
    “Of course they are,” said Kate.
    They spoke without real conviction, however, for though the adults were surely as safe as could be expected under the circumstances, the question remained: How safe
was
that, exactly?
    Kate pulled the plug in the sink, and in troubled silence the friends watched the sudsy water drain away.
    Constance emerged from the pantry with a half-empty sleeve of cheese crackers, her cheeks bulging like a chipmunk’s. “What’re you wooking at?” she said, spewing crumbs.
    “Nothing,” said the others at once, and Constance scowled. It infuriated her when they tried to protect her. They couldn’t help themselves, though, nor were their reasons entirely selfless: Constance was always difficult, but when she grew anxious she was perfectly unbearable.
    “Let’s go outside,” Reynie said, turning away before Constance could search his face. “We still have some time before afternoon lessons.”

    The children enjoyed being outside, but getting there was a tiresome business. First they had to seek permission from an adult, who often had to check with someone else to verify the alarm code, for the code was changed almost daily and all the downstairs doors and windows were wired. (Mr. Benedict’s first-floor maze had been renovated into makeshift apartments for the Washingtons and Perumals, and the alarm system—with its direct signal to the police station as well as Milligan’s sentries—provided an important new defense.) Then they had to wait while the adult conferred with the outside guards, and only then could they venture into fresh air.
    The children usually preferred the large backyard, where there was more room to run about, and in Kate’s case to turn a few dozen handsprings and flips. The exception was when Mr. Bane was posted there. Mr. Bane was an unpleasant guard, a gruff and grizzled man who seemed to believe children should be kept in boxes until they were proper adults. When Mr. Bane was in the backyard, they went into the courtyard instead.
    Today, as it happened, Mr. Bane was off duty altogether, and as soon as they had hustled into their coats and hats, and Reynie had helped Constance with her mittens (she was close to tears trying to get her thumbs in their places), they ran out the backdoor. They were greeted by Ms. Plugg, a tough, stocky guard who had been walking about on the frost-covered grass to keep warm.
    “Afternoon, children,” Ms. Plugg said, nodding as they came down the steps. She had an oddly large and rectangular head, rather like a cinder block, and when she nodded Reynie always had the disquieting impression that it was sliding off her shoulders. “Kate. Reynie. Constance. Um… Tacky? I’m sorry, I forget your name.”
    “Sticky.”
    “Right!” said Ms. Plugg, snapping her fingers. “Good afternoon, Sticky. I promise I won’t forget again.” Yielding the yard to the children, she took up a watchful position at the top of the steps, where Sticky, unfortunately, could hear her mumbling quietly to herself, “Sticky… Sticky… hmm. Always fiddles with his glasses… fiddlesticks! Okay, fiddlesticks. Good. I’ll remember that.”
    Sticky’s stomach fluttered disagreeably as he walked away from the steps. He had grown so used to being with his friends, he felt