He crossed a busy street and moved with a surging group of theater goers. Had the agents seen him? He peered nervously around. None in sight.
At the corner he crossed with the lights. He reached the safety zone in the center, watching a sleek Clearance car cruising toward him. Had it seen him go out to the safety zone? He left the zone, heading toward the curb on the far side. The Clearance car shot suddenly forward, gaining speed. Another appeared, coming the other way.
Franklin reached the curb.
The first car ground to a halt. Clearance agents piled out, swarming up onto the sidewalk.
He was trapped. There was no place to hide. Around him tired shoppers and office workers gazed curiously, their faces devoid of sympathy. A few grinned at him in vacant amusement. Franklin peered frantically around. No place, no door, no person -
A car pulled up in front of him, its doors sliding open. "Get in." A young girl leaned toward him, her pretty face urgent. "Get in, damn it!"
He got in. The girl slammed the doors and the car picked up speed. A Clearance car swung in ahead of them, its sleek bulk blocking the street. A second Clearance car moved in behind them.
The girl leaned forward, gripping the controls. Abruptly the car lifted. It left the street, clearing the cars ahead, gaining altitude rapidly. A flash of violet lit up the sky behind them.
"Get down!" the girl snapped. Franklin sank down in his seat. The car moved in a wide arc, passing beyond the protective columns of a row of buildings. On the ground, the Clearance cars gave up and turned back.
Franklin settled back, mopping his forehead shakily. "Thanks," he muttered.
"Don't mention it." The girl increased the car's speed. They were leaving the business section of the city, moving above the residential outskirts. She steered silently, intent on the sky ahead.
"Who are you?" Franklin asked.
The girl tossed something back to him. "Put that on."
A hood. Franklin unfastened it and slipped it awkwardly over his head. "It's in place."
"Otherwise they'll get us with a teep scan. We have to be careful all the time."
"Where are we going?"
The girl turned to him, studying him with calm gray eyes, one hand resting on the wheel. "We're going to the Hood Maker," she said. "The public alarm for you is top priority. If I let you off you won't last an hour."
"But I don't understand." Franklin shook his head, dazed. "Why do they want me? What have I done?"
"You're being framed." The girl brought the car around in a wide arc, wind whistling shrilly through its struts and fenders. "Framed by the teeps. Things are happening fast. There's no time to lose."
The little bald-headed man removed his glasses and held out his hand to Franklin, peering near-sightedly. "I'm glad to meet you, Doctor. I've followed your work at the Board with great interest."
"Who are you?" Franklin demanded.
The little man grinned self-consciously. "I'm James Cutter. The Hood Maker, as the teeps call me. This is our factory." He waved around the room. "Take a look at it."
Franklin gazed around him. He was in a warehouse, an ancient wooden building of the last century. Giant worm-scored beams rose up, dry and cracking. The floor was concrete. Old-fashioned fluorescent lights glinted and flickered from the roof. The walls were streaked with water stains and bulging pipes.
Franklin moved across the room, Cutter beside him. He was bewildered. Everything had happened fast. He seemed to be outside New York, in some dilapidated industrial suburb. Men were working on all sides of him, bent over stampers and molds. The air was hot. An archaic fan whirred. The warehouse echoed and vibrated with a constant din.
"This -" Franklin murmured. "This is -"
"This is where we make the hoods. Not very impressive, is it? Later on we hope to move to new quarters. Come along and I'll show you the rest."
Cutter pushed a side door open and they entered a small laboratory, bottles and retorts everywhere in cluttered confusion. "We do our research in here. Pure and applied. We've learned a few things. Some we may use, some we hope won't be needed. And it keeps our refugees busy."
"Refugees?"
Cutter pushed some equipment back and seated himself on a lab table. "Most of the others are here for the same reason as you. Framed by the teeps. Accused of deviation. But we got to them first."
"But why -"
"Why were you framed? Because of your position. Director of a Government Department. All these men were prominent – and all were framed by teep probes." Cutter lit a cigarette, leaning back against the water-stained wall. "We exist because of a discovery made ten years ago in a Government lab." He tapped his hood. "This alloy – opaque to probes. Discovered by accident, by one of these men. Teeps came after him instantly, but he escaped. He made a number of hoods and passed them to other workers in his field. That's how we got started."
"How many are here?"
Cutter laughed. "Can't tell you that. Enough to turn out hoods and keep them circulating. To people prominent in Government. People holding positions of authority. Scientists, officials, educators -"
"Why?"
"Because we want to get them first, before the teeps. We got to you too late. A total probe report had already been made out on you, before the hood was even in the mail.
"The teeps are gradually getting a stranglehold over the Government. They're picking off the best men, denouncing them and getting them arrested. If a teep says a man is disloyal Clearance has to haul him in. We tried to get a hood to you in time. The report couldn't be passed on to Clearance if you were wearing a hood. But they outsmarted us. They got a mob after you and snatched the hood. As soon as it was off they served the report to Clearance."
"So that's why they wanted it off."
"The teeps can't file a framed report on a man whose mind is opaque to probes. Clearance isn't that stupid. The teeps have to get the hoods off. Every man wearing a hood is a man out of bounds. They've managed so far by stirring up mobs – but that's ineffectual. Now they're working on this bill in Congress. Senator Waldo's Anti-Immunity Bill. It would outlaw wearing hoods." Cutter grinned ironically. "If a man is innocent why shouldn't he want his mind probed? The bill makes wearing a probe shield a felony. People who receive hoods will turn them over to Clearance. There won't be a man in ten thousand who'll keep his hood, if it means prison and confiscation of property."
"I met Waldo, once. I can't believe he understands what his bill would do. If he could be made to see -"
"Exactly! If he could be made to see. This bill has to be stopped. If it goes through we're licked. And the teeps are in. Somebody has to talk to Waldo and make him see the situation." Cutter's eyes were bright. "You know the man. He'll remember you."
"What do you mean?"
"Franklin, we're sending you back again – to meet Waldo. It's our only chance to stop the bill. And it has to be stopped."
The cruiser roared over the Rockies, brush and tangled forest flashing by below. "There's a level pasture over to the right," Cutter said. "I'll set her down, if I can find it."
He snapped off the jets. The roar died into silence. They were coasting above the hills.
"To the right," Franklin said.
Cutter brought the cruiser down in a sweeping glide. "This will put us within walking distance of Waldo's estate. We'll go the rest of the way on foot." A shuddering growl shook them as the landing fins dug into the ground – and they were at rest.
Around them tall trees moved faintly with the wind. It was mid-morning. The air was cool and thin. They were high up, still in the mountains, on the Colorado side.
"What are the chances of our reaching him?" Franklin asked.