He walked across the roof, estimating the distances with practiced ease, as if he'd undergone extensive training and the period had been forgotten and only the skill remained. He knelt and fused two small rods to a portion of the roof, and then readjusted the torch and cut a small circular hole. He listened, and when there was no alarm, lifted out the section. There was nothing but darkness below.  
He fastened a rope to the aircar. He dropped the rope through the hole and slid down. Unless he had miscalculated, he was where he wanted to be, having bypassed all alarm circuits. There were others inside, he was reasonably certain of that, but with ordinary precautions he could avoid them.
 
He flashed on a tiny light. He had guessed right; this was MEMORY LAB—the room he'd wanted to see this afternoon but hadn't been able to. In front of him was the door to the waiting room, and beyond that the hall. He swung the light in an arc, flashing it over a desk and a piece of equipment the nature of which he didn't know. Behind him was still another door.
 
The desk was locked, but he took out a small magnetic device and jiggled it expertly over the and then it was unlocked. He went hurriedly through papers and documents, but there was nothing with a name on it. He rifled the desk and then went to the machine.
 
He didn't expect to learn anything, but he might as w............