Sutton, Buster…
He read the planet description three times to make sure he had it firmly in his mind.
"That's all," he said. "Thank you very much."
The robot grumbled at him and shut off the screen.
Outside again, Sutton ambled easily across the foyer of the office building he had selected to place his call. On the road outside, he walked up the road, branched off onto a path and found a bench with a pleasant view.
He sat down on the bench and forced himself to relax.
For he was being watched, he knew. Kept under observation, for by this time, certainly, Trevor would know that the android who had walked out of Eva Armour's house could be none other than he. The psych-tracer, long ago, would have told the story, would have traced his movements and pinpointed him for Trevor's men to watch.
Take it easy, he told himself. Dawdle. Loaf. Act as if you didn't have a thing to do, as if you didn't have a thought in mind.
You can't fool them, but you can at least catch them unguarded when you have to move.
And there were many things to do, many things left to think about, although he was satisfied that the course of action he had planned was the course to take.