mesis. Knowing it was useless, he protested
his identity and mission.

But, "Sorry, major. But you'll have to park around back. They're
bringing in the big computer. General himself can't park here. Them's
orders."

He could ask the sergeant to park the car. But the man couldn't leave
his post, would make a to-do calling someone--and that was Filipson's
suite overlooking the scene. No dice. Go see what might be possible.

But side and back parking were jammed with refugees from the computer,
and so was the other side. And he came around to the front again. Five
minutes wasted. He thought searchingly.

He could drive to a taxi lot, park there, and be driven back by taxi,
disembark on the clean walk, and there you were. Of course, he could
hear Filipson's "Thought you drove your own car, ha?" and his own
damaging excuses. But even Out Yonder, you'd cut corners in emergency.
It was all such a comfortable Out, he relaxed. And, relaxing, saw his
alternative.

* * * * *

He was driving around the block again, and noted the back entrance. This
was not ground level, because of the slope of ground; it faced a broad
landing, reached by a double flight of steps. These began on each side
at right-angles to the building and then turned up to the landing along
the face of the wall. Normally, they were negotiable; but now, even had
he found parking near them, he hadn't the chance of the celluloid cat in
hell of even crossing the ten feet of uncleaned sidewalk. You might as
well climb an eighty-degree, fifty-foot wall of rotten ice. But there
was always a way, and he saw it.

The unpassable walk itself was an avenue of approach. He swung his car
onto it at the corner, and drove along it to the steps to park in the
angle between steps and wall--and discovered a new shut-out. He'd
expected the steps to be a mean job in the raw wind that favored this
face of the building; but a wartime janitor had swept them sketchily
only down the middle, far from the balustrades he must use. By the
balustrades, early feet had packed a semi-ice far more treacherous than
the untouched snow; and, the two bottom steps curved out beyond the
balustrade. So ... a sufficiently reckless alpinist might assay a cliff
in a sleet storm and gale, but he couldn't even try if it began with an
overhang.

Still time for the taxi. And so, again Scott saw the way that was always
there: Set the car so he could use its hood to heft up