I parked across the street from the Office block and waited for them to get out. THREE hissed through gritted teeth: 'Turn the car around and park outside. We'll be out in exactly five minutes. Don't leave the car or stop the engine.'
'I know how to do getaway.' I answered.
'Good! Then we won't have a problem.'


I sat in the car and watched them walk across the deserted street. FOUR stumbled once and TWO had to grab his arm.

That song had been catchy. I couldn't help but hum it as I sat and watched for trouble. It was a true pop song: The kind that sticks in your head from the moment you hear it.


I thought about me six months ago. I knew where I was exactly at this moment, and that's why I'd picked it as my alibi: I am in a lecture on Electronic Communication with 50 other mature students. I argue with my Professor about an assignment and he holds me back afterwards:


'My boy, I agree with your probation officer: You have a quick mind and a natural talent for electronics but none for communication; and that is half this course. Mix with the other students; Get a life outside of violent crime and isolation.'


I knew he was smiling when he said that, even though I couldn't look at him. I was  transfixed by his computer's screensaver: 'Mystify your mind', I think it's called. Suddenly the whole thing fell into place and I realized what I could do.

I almost loved that old man, for the way he always told it to me straight, but that hadn't stopped me from robbing him of his invention and driving it across country to do this job. 'Can't trust anyone.' I'd said to myself as I'd loaded the Machine into a stolen pick-up.