He got into the car, beaming, and left. I turned and sized up the Delta Labs.
There was nothing fancy about the place; it consisted of low brick and steel buildings, mud, a fence and a guard who was looking at me.
I sauntered over. "I'm from Iowa City," I said. "Now, the rest of the group didn't come—said they'd rather rest one day. But I like to see it all. After all, I paid—"
"Just a minute," the guard said, holding up a palm. "You must be lost, fella. This here ain't no tourist attraction. You can't come in here."
"This is the cameo works?" I said anxiously.
He shook his head. "Too bad you let your cab go. It's an hour yet till the bus comes."
A dun-painted staff car came into view, slowed and swung wide to turn in. I fingered the driver's mind. The car swerved, braked to a halt. A portly man in the back seat leaned forward, frowning. I touched him. He relaxed. The driver leaned across and opened the door. I went around and got in. The guard was watching, open-mouthed.
I gave him a two-finger salute, and the car pulled through the gate.
"Stop in front of the electronics section," I said. The car pulled up. I got out, went up the steps and pushed through the double glass doors. The car sat for a moment, then moved slowly off. The passenger would be wondering why the driver had stopped—but the driver wouldn't remember.