The Questor Tapes Read Online Free PDF Page B

in and pulled the door closed. The lock clicked from outside. Jerry slumped into a chair, head in his hands, wondering exactly what had happened. He was under guard and under suspicion of being some kind of saboteur, or at least potentially one. If only Vaslovik were alive. If only the android had functioned . . .

4
    T he android, Questor, had opened every locker in the changing room. He had been built to resemble an average-size man, but his search for clothing had revealed the singular scarcity of average-size men in the group of scientists and technicians. He had disregarded underwear, not comprehending any need for it. A technician’s striped sport shirt was tucked into a beltless pair of old chinos Dr. Chen sometimes wore. Dr. Michaels’ locker had yielded a tweed jacket. Questor had found a pair of white socks stuffed into tennis shoes. The sneakers did not fit, but a pair of black shoes from another locker did. Sufficiently garbed, Questor stepped to a mirror. He tilted his head slightly to the right, surveying the image reflected in the glass.
    He saw what appeared to be a blond, blue-eyed, fair-complexioned man in his thirties. The face that had been designed for him was attractive, but with enough flaws to be interesting. The clothing fit well enough. He saw no need for a tie and no incongruity in the white wool socks and black shoes. He turned away.
    A red light gleamed beside the emergency exit to the security lab. The door was not normally used, but was linked into the alarm system. Questor studied it briefly, then reached out and pressed the glowing red plate. The light went off. The door did not open, and Questor turned his attention to it. The only projection was the doorknob. Questor pulled at it, and the knob came away in his hand. He bent to examine the hole left in the door, using his infrared capability to scan the dark interior. He understood his mistake then and would not make it again.
    Questor straightened and scanned the door frame. A steel molding ran around it, preventing the insertion of anything between the frame and the door. Questor reached up, his fingertips carefully gripping the edge of the molding, and pulled it away from the wall. Effortlessly, his expression as untroubled as a statue’s, he stripped the molding from the entire door. Then he slipped his fingers in the half-inch clearance on top and yanked the door from the frame. He neatly set it aside, and left.
    The side door was a thick, heavy metal fire-and-security panel with a stout locking bolt. Questor paused as he heard the footsteps of the patrolling guard outside. As soon as the guard was well past, Questor bent aside the thick locking bolt and eased open the door.
    His hearing mechanism amplified the guard’s footsteps as the man walked along the front of the building. Questor set off across the grass at an oblique angle, reaching the sidewalk a slight distance from the lab. He noticed the difference in texture as he stepped from the grass to the cement, and paused for a moment to catalog the information. Then he set off in a direction that would take him past the front of the Project Questor laboratory.
    The guard posted at the entrance looked at him without curiosity. Questor strode along ramrod straight, but with enough ease to draw a courteous nod from the guard. Questor logged the motion in a split second and nodded back. The guard seemed satisfied and looked away.
    Questor angled off the sidewalk as soon as he was out of sight of the laboratory. He stopped under a stand of trees to get his bearings, and became aware of the soft undercurrent of night noises. A cricket chirped, a car purred along one of the dormitory driveways in the distance, the wind gently fluttered leaves overhead. Questor amplified his hearing and picked up the low murmur of two voices, a man’s and a woman’s. His eyes automatically tracked to the source.
    A pair of students strolled along a walk some distance from him. They had their arms