Paycheck (2003) Read Online Free

something, unless he was completely wrong about everything. It was a little late to decide that, though.
    The young man came back. ‘Is there
any
kind of work I can get here?’ Jennings said. ‘Just to tide me over.’
    ‘There’s always farm work.’
    ‘How about the retail repair shops? Garages. TV.’
    ‘There’s a TV repair shop down the street. Maybe you might get something there. You could try. Farm work pays good. They can’t get many men, anymore. Most men in the military. You want to pitch hay?’
    Jennings laughed. He paid for his coffee. ‘Not very much. Thanks.’
    ‘Once in a while some of the men go up the road and work. There’s some sort of Government station.’
    Jennings nodded. He pushed the screen door open, stepping outside onto the hot sidewalk. He walked aimlessly for a time, deep in thought, turning his nebulous plan over and over. It was a good plan; it would solve everything, all his problems at once. But right now it hinged on one thing: finding Rethrick Construction. And he had only one clue, if it really was a clue. The ticket stub, folded and creased, in his pocket. And a faith that
he
had known what he was doing.
    A Government station. Jennings paused, looking around him. Across the street was a taxi stand, a couple of cabbies sitting in their cabs, smoking and reading the newspaper. It was worth a try, at least. There wasn’t much else to do. Rethrick would be something else, on the surface. If it posed as a Government project no one would ask any questions. They were all too accustomed to Government projects working without explanation, in secrecy.
    He went over to the first cab. ‘Mister,’ he said, ‘can you tell me something?’
    The cabbie looked up. ‘What do you want?’
    ‘They tell me there’s work to be had, out at the Government station. Is that right?’
    The cabbie studied him. He nodded.
    ‘What kind of work is it?’
    ‘I don’t know.’
    ‘Where do they do the hiring?’
    ‘I don’t know.’ The cabbie lifted his paper.
    ‘Thanks.’ Jennings turned away.
    ‘They don’t do any hiring. Maybe once in a long while. They don’t take many on. You better go someplace else if you’re looking for work.’
    ‘All right.’
    The other cabbie leaned out of his cab. ‘They use only a few day laborers, buddy. That’s all. And they’re very choosy. They don’t hardly let anybody in. Some kind of war work.’
    Jennings pricked up his ears. ‘Secret?’
    ‘They come into town and pick up a load of construction workers. Maybe a truck full. That’s all. They’re real careful who they pick.’
    Jennings walked back toward the cabbie. ‘That right?’
    ‘It’s a big place. Steel wall. Charged. Guards. Work going on day and night. But nobody gets in. Set up on top of a hill, out the old Henderson Road. About two miles and a half.’ The cabbie poked at his shoulder. ‘You can’t get in unless you’re identified. They identify their laborers, after they pick them out. You know.’
    Jennings stared at him. The cabbie was tracing a line on his shoulder. Suddenly Jennings understood. A flood of relief rushed over him.
    ‘Sure,’ he said. ‘I understand what you mean. At least, I think so.’ He reached into his pocket, bringing out the four trinkets. Carefully, he unfolded the strip of green cloth, holding it up. ‘Like this?’
    The cabbies stared at the cloth. ‘That’s right,’ one of them said slowly, staring at the cloth. ‘Where did you get it?’
    Jennings laughed. ‘A friend.’ He put the cloth back in his pocket. ‘A friend gave it to me.’
    He went off, toward the Intercity field. He had plenty to do, now that the first step was over. Rethrick was here, all right. And apparently the trinkets were going to see him through. One for every crisis. A pocketful of miracles, from someone who knew the future!
    But the next step couldn’t be done alone. He needed help. Somebody else was needed for this part. But who? He pondered, entering the