Binary

`What sort of calls?'

`I don't know. They were long distance.'

`Did you hear any of them?'

`No.'

`Are you sure?s

'Well, I heard him ask the operator for area code 801. That's Washington, isn't it?'

`Yes,' Graves said. He knew that it wasn't, but he could check it later.

`He was very upset. And then later, he mentioned China. He doesn't like the President about China, you know.' She sighed. `He thinks it's very wrong.'

`I see. You say you've seen my picture -'

`Only last night,' she said. `That was the first time. I thought you were related to him or something. Because he has your picture up all over the place.'

`This happened last night?'

`Yes. But he was strange last night, anyway. Nervous.' `I see. What about?'

`I don't know. He's worried about business things. He said something about a shipment he's expecting.'

`What else was strange, last night?'

She hesitated, apparently embarrassed.

`Go on,' Graves said gently.

`Well, it was different last night. He was very. vigorous. He did it three times.'

`I see,' Graves said.

Outside the ballroom Lewis was in a phone booth, checking the area code. He came out and fell into step with Graves. `Eight oh one,' he said, `is Utah.'

`Any particular place?'

`No. The whole state is one area code.'

`Shit,' Graves said. `I wish we had a tap on his phone.' `Well, we did our best to get it,' Lewis reminded him. `Yeah,' Graves said. He sighed. `I never thought I'd hear myself complaining because we hadn't tapped a phone.'

`Things are different now,' Lewis said.

`They sure are.'

They went outside into the bright hot morning sun and climbed into the car. Lewis started the engine. `Where to?'

`Miss Lembeck's new apartment. The one Wright just rented.'

`Okay,' Lewis said.

When they arrived at the apartment building, they saw Wright's limousine parked in front. Behind the wheel George was reading a newspaper.

`Are we fully set up across the street?' Graves said.

`We should be,' Lewis said.

Graves nodded. `Wait here. I'll go see what they've found.'

The day before, they had set up a surveillance unit in the apartment building facing Wright's. Graves rode to the nineteenth floor, got out, and walked to Room 1905. He knocked once.

`Who is it?'

`Graves.'

The door was opened for him. He entered the room. It was small and bare except for equipment clustered around the windows. There were two sets of binoculars on tripods and three sets of cameras; four chairs; a directional microphone, also on a tripod; recording equipment; film canisters; heaped ashtrays. And a television set.

On the TV Walter Cronkite was saying, `- are trying to get a vote from the Alabama delegation, which is apparently still in caucus.' In the background a booming, echoing mechanical voice was saying, `Alabama

Alabama... Alabama...'

Graves ignored the TV. `What've you got?' he asked.

One of the three men in the room stepped away from the binoculars. `Have a look,' he said.

Graves looked.

From this vantage point he could see directly into one window of Wright's apartment on the nineteenth floor of the opposite building. There were no drapes on the window, which made it easy to see in. The room was bare except for four peculiar wooden structures standing in the centre of the floor.

`They had drapes on that window too,' the man said, `but they took them off half an hour ago.'

`From all the windows?'

`No. Just this one.'

Graves frowned. Why? Did they know they were being observed? Did they want to make it easier? Because that was what they had done. He could see Wright striding around the room, directing two other people. Wright was working in shirtsleeves.

`The window's open,' Graves said. `It must be hot as hell in there.'

`That's right,' the man said. `The window has been open ever since Wright showed up. An hour ago.'

`What're those wooden things on the floor?'

`Sawhorses,' the man said. `We figure they had paperhangers in there. Paperhangers use sawhorses. But there's something funny going on.'

`How do you mean?'

`Well, look at the sawhorses closely. They have indentations cut in them.'

Graves looked. He could see a broadly curved, U-shaped cut in each sawhorse.

'Why?'

`Beats me. They just cut them a while back.'

`You mean, specially?'

`That's right. They've been doing a lot of unusual things in there. Every so often Wright sticks his hand out the window, and he's got this whirling thing, like a kid's whirling top... He sticks his hand out there for a minute, then pulls it back.'

Graves looked away from the window. `Describe it exactly.'

`It has four arms,' the man said, `and at the end of each is a cup, to catch the wind. Sort of a weathervane. But there isn't much wind today.'

`Anemometer,' Graves said.

`A what?'

`It measures wind velocity.' Why should Wright want to know the wind velocity outside the window of his girl friend's apartment?,

`Why does he care about that?' the man said.

Graves shook his head and turned back to the window, examining the sawhorses through the binoculars. Each sawhorse with its single indentation in the crossbar.

Four sawhorses.

Two tanks. Of course! The crossbars would have indentations so that the tank wouldn't roll off. `You seen any tanks in there?'

`Nothing like that,' the man said. `All we've seen is a lot of mechanical equipment.'

`What kind of mechanical equipment?' Graves peered through the binoculars. He didn't see any equipment at all.

`It looks like pumps and stuff,' the man said. `It was right in the middle of the floor.' He glanced through the binoculars, then shook his head. `They must have moved it to another room. They had some electronic equipment, too.'

`What kind?'

`Looked like a hi-fi, maybe.'

Graves thought of several nasty remarks, but said nothing. A hi-fi, for Christ's sake.

`That guy in there must be pretty weird,' the man said.

Graves turned on him. `He is not weird. He is a brilliant and a dedicated man. He is engaged in a complicated plot and he is daring -' He broke off. The man was staring. `He's not weird,' Graves finished, and returned to the binoculars.

As he watched, John Wright stepped to the window and extended his hand. He held an anemometer; the cups spun lazily. After a moment Wright withdrew the instrument and returned to directing the other men in the room.

Graves turned away from the window and made some calls.

`Department of Defence.'

`Public Information, please.'

`Just a minute, please.' There was a clicking.

`Public Information, Miss,Conover speaking.'

`I'd like to talk to Lieutenant Morrison, please.'

`One minute, please.' More clicking.

`Lieutenant Morrison's office.'

`John Graves calling for Lieutenant Morrison.'

`Just a minute, I'll see if he's in.' Still more clicking. 'Morrison here. What is it?' As usual, Morrison sounded harried.

`Pete, this is John Graves at State. I'm in San Diego, and I need some information.'

`Shoot.'

`Pete, I need to know what a code word represents. The code word is Binary 75 slash 76.'

Morrison coughed in surprise. `Where'd you hear that?'

`Pete, just tell me what it means.'

`Jesus, this is an open line.'

`I know it's an open line. Tell me what it means.'

`Where are you calling from?'

`San Diego.'

`Jesus, you must be out of your mind.'

`I need the information, Pete. And I need it now.'

`Look,' Morrison said, `if you don't mind me saying so, this is pretty irregular. You've just popped a -' He broke off again. `Honestly,' he said, in his most honest, public-information officer's voice, `I'd have to obtain clearances and confirmation of need-to-know from your department, and then I'd have to pass it on to the Army, and then -'

`Okay, fine. Do it.'

`You have to supply the clearances.'

`I haven't got time.'

`You're asking me on an open line to define a hot new weapons system and break its code and you haven't got '

`Look,' Graves said. `If I call Phelps, can he call you and requisition this information?'

'Verbal requisition?' Morrison seemed shocked. `This is pretty heavy stuff for a verbal. You sure you don't want specifications on the ABM sites while you're at it, and maybe Polaris submarine coordinates? Any other minor details?'

Graves suppressed his anger. Morrison was such a bureaucratic ass. `I need the information,' he repeated. `I need it now.'

`Sounds like this may be a matter for Defence to look into,' Morrison said. `We'd be curious to know how you got that coding in the first place. Why don't you forward us a complete report along with a requisition AB-212; that's the green form. I may be able to release the data to you in a day or so, and -'

Graves hung up.

`This is Graves.'

`I know who it is,' Phelps said. `What do you have to say for yourself?'

'Binary 75 slash 76,' Graves said. `It's a coding - I need to know what it means.'

`Binary 75 slash 76,' Phelps said. There was a long pause; faintly, Graves could hear him writing it down. Finally he said, `Are you going to tell me where you came across it?'

`It's what Drew tapped from the system,' Graves said

'Oh,' Phelps said.

`But Drew doesn't know what it means, either.'

`How did he happen to tap in?'

'Wright told him to.'

`Well, did you ask Wright why?'

`No.'

`Why not?'

`I haven't picked him up yet,' Graves said.

`You haven't picked him up yet.'

`That's right.'

`What are you waiting for, a divine edict?'

`I thought I already had that,' Graves said. `But the situation is complicated. You see, Wright asked for more information from the data banks.'

`More information?'

`About a State Department Intelligence officer named John Graves. He pulled my file.'

`Don't be an ass,' Phelps said. `Pick him up immediately. He's on to you, that's clear.'

`Not only is he on to me,' Graves said, `he's showing me a puzzle and daring me to work it out.'

`This is not a f**king poker game,' Phelps said. `We can convict Wright on the basis of evidence we already have, and -'

`You can't touch him,' Graves said. `When he cools down, Drew won't testify against him. You haven't got a prayer of making a case against Wright. Our only chance is to wait - and to get me my own file contents.'

`You're joking.'

`I'm not.'

`It's out of the question.'

`I want to know what he knows.'

`About yourself?'

`Yes. Especially psychological test scores.'

`Out of the question. Unheard of.'

`You've got to do this for me,' Graves said. `You've got to get me that file.'

`I can't requisition it,' Phelps said, `without higher

authority. You know that. You're much better off picking Wright up.'

`Not yet.'

`I have to go to lunch,' Phelps said. `Call me later. I think you're acting like a fool.'

And Phelps hung up.

`State Department.' A singsong voice.

'Office of the Secretary, please.'

`Thank you.' Lilting.

`Secretary of State, can we help you?'

`Mr Burnett, please.' Burnett was one of the Secretary's advisers. Although young, he had worked himself up from a speech writer to a close and influential position. Graves knew him slightly.

`Mr Burnett has gone to lunch and is not back yet. He is expected shortly.'

`Did he leave a number?'

`No, I'm sorry - just a moment, he's coming through the door. Whom shall I say is calling?'

`John Graves. State Intelligence.'

`One moment please, Mr Graves.'

There was a very long wait, and a humming sound as Graves was put on `hold'. Then a click.

'Burnett here.'

`Tom, this is John Graves calling.'

`How are you, John? It's been a long time. When was it? Senator Evans' party, I think. You had a very cute -'

`Listen, Tom. I have a problem. I need your help.'

`I'll do what I can.' Said very smoothly, in the manner that all those people adopted sooner or later. No promises, but very smooth.

Graves paused. `I need my file.'

`Your file?'

`Yes. My Department file.'

`I don't think - just a minute - no, please hold that, I'll call him right back - John?'

`I'm here.'

`I'll have to call him right back. Yes, in a few minutes. Absolutely. Five minutes, tell him five minutes. John?'

`I'm here,' Graves said again.

`Now what was it? Your file?'

`Yes. I need my own file.'

`I've never heard of anyone needing their own file,' Burnett chuckled. `Curiosity, yes, but -'

`Tom. Stop being polite. This is Department business and it's very important.'

`Perhaps you could stop by the office and -'

`I can't stop by the office. I'm not in Washington. I'm in San Diego.'

`Oh?' There was hesitation now, the smoothness gone. `San Diego?'

`I'm doing an SS here. A guy named John Wright. I need my own -'

'Who?'

`John Wright.'

`Well why didn't you say so before? I'll get it to you right away. The Secretary has directed everyone to cooperate fully with the San Diego operation.'

Graves sighed. That was refreshing. He had an enormous sense of relief. What was that joke? It felt so good when he stopped.

`Let's see,' Burnett said. `I'll have to get an authorization. I can do that with the Undersecretary; I don't have to bother the boss. Then we have to get it to you. You don't have access to a photoprinter?'

`No.'

`Well, let's see... I don't know what sort of facilities are available in San Diego. Look. There's one sure bet. The police department. They have a printer for sure. I can transmit the file contents to you over that. But it'll take time to do the whole thing.'

`I don't want the whole thing. I just want the psychological test scores.'

`You do?'

'That's right,' Graves said.

`Well,' Burnett said, `I can have that for you right away. They'll transmit in fifteen or twenty minutes. Okay?'

`Okay,' Graves said. `And thanks.'

`For Christ's sake, don't mention it,' Burnett said.

Graves hung up.

Downstairs in the car, Lewis said, `You look like you've gargled with Drano.'

`I have,' Graves said. He got into the car. `We're going to the police station.'

Lewis pulled out into traffic. `Anything interesting happening upstairs?'

`They've found that Wright is preoccupied with weather today.'

`Weather?'

`Yes.'

`I don't get it,' Lewis said.

`Neither do I,' Graves said.