He stopped beside a haggard, stubbly-bearded man. “Why don’t you go home, Dave?” be asked. “McPherson can carry on from here.”
“How about yourself, Chief? You don’t look like a June bride.”
“Oh, I’ll catch a nap in my office after a bit. I called my wife, and told her I couldn’t make it. She’s coming down here to meet me.”
“Was she sore?”
“Not very. You know how women are.” He turned back to the instrument board, and watched the clicking ‘busy-bodies’ assembling the data from six sectors. San Diego Circle, Angeles Sector, Bakersfield Sector, Fresno Sector, Stockton-Stockton? Stockton! Good grief! – Blekinsop! He had left a cabinet minister of Australia cooling his heels in the Stockton office all night long!
He started for the door, while calling over his shoulder, “Dave, will you order a car for me? Make it a fast one!” He was across the hail, and had his head inside his private office before Davidson could acknowledge the order.
“Dolores!”
“Yes, Mr. Gaines.”
“Call my wife, and tell her I had to go to Stockton. If she’s already left home, just have her wait here. And Dolores-”
“Yes, Mr. Gaines?”
“Calm her down.”
She bit her lip, but her face was impassive. “Yes, Mr. Gaines.”
“That’s a good girl.” He was out and started down the stairway. When he reached road level, the sight of the rolling strips warmed him inside and made him feel almost cheerful.
He strode briskly away toward a door marked ACCESS DOWN, whistling softly to himself. He opened the door, and the rumbling, roaring rhythm from ‘down inside’ seemed to pick up the tune even as it drowned out the sound of his whistling.
“Hie! Hie! Hee!
The rotor men are we-
Check off your sectors loud and strong! One! Two! Three!
Anywhere you go
You are bound to know
That your roadways are rolling along!”