I heard shouts in the distance—and shots! The crowd stirred and murmured at this, then they were silent again. We moved on. The crowd was in motion now as well, stirring and reforming. I realized it was deliberate, so that anyone watching from the windows above would not see us making our escape.

On the other side of the street a door opened as we approached, was locked behind us by a motherly-looking gray-haired woman.

’This is Librarian Grene,” our guide, Sharia, said. “She is the one who organized your escape.”

“Thank you for our lives,” I said, which is about as thankful as you can get.

“You are still not safe,” she said. “I searched the library for all the books that I could find on prisoners and es-

capes. Then, with the aid of our engineers adapted the formula we have just used. But I do not know what to advise next. The plan that I found in this book just carried to this point, I am sorry to say.”

“Don’t be—it was perfect!” Morton said. “You and your people have done incredibly well. And it just so happens that my friend Jim is the galaxy champion of escapes. I’m sure he will know what to do next.”

“Do you?” the librarian asked.

“Of course!” I said with newfound enthusiasm. “We are well away from the enemy, in hiding—so they will never catch us now. How big is this city?” Grene pursed her lips and thought.

“An interesting question. On a north to south axis I would say the total diameter is…”

“No, wait! Not physically big—1 mean how many inhabitants?”

“In the last population census there were six hundred and eighty-three thousand people resident in the greater Bellegarrique area.”

“Then we are more than safe for the moment. I know these military types, know exactly what they will do. First they will run about in great confusion and shoot off guns. Then one of the bright ones will take charge, undoubtedly our old friend Zennor. He “will have the roads blocked and try to seal off the city. Then he will start a house-to-house search. Starting right here in the nearest buildings.”

“You must flee!” Sharia said with a lovely concerned gasp. I took the opportunity to pat her hand in my most reassuring manner. She had delicately smooth skin, I just happened to notice. I dragged my thoughts back to the escape.

“We shall flee, but in a controlled manner, not in panic, They will also be sending patrols to the surrounding area as soon as someone thinks of it. So the plan is this. Change out of these uniforms, join the people outside, leave the immediate area as soon as possible, find a safe place to stay outside the search area in the outermost part of the city, after dark leave the city completely.”

“How wonderful!” Sharia said, eyes glowing beautifully. I was beginning to like this planet. “I will get clothes for you now.” She hurried from the room before I could ask her how she planned to do that.

Her solution was a simple one—on local terms. She returned quite quickly with two men,

“These two seemed to be about your size. I asked them to give you their clothes.”

“We are privileged to do this,” the smaller one said and his companion beamed approval. “Shall we change.”

“Not change,” I said. “We’ll take the clothes, thank you, but hide or destroy the uniforms. If you were found wearing them you would be shot.”

They were stunned at this news. “That cannot be true!” the librarian gasped.

“It’s all too true. I told you that I knew the military mind very well…”

There was a rapid knocking on the door and Sharia opened it before I could stop her. But it was Stirner gasping and wide-eyed.

“Are you all right?” I asked and he nodded.

“I was not seen, I came by a different route. But the strangers have beaten people, hurt them for no reason. There were explosions of weapons. Some are injured,

none dead that I know.”

“They must be stopped,” I said. “And I know how to do it. We must get back to the dam, to the generating plant, Sergeant Blogh and the company will still be there. We have to get there before they leave. Tonight, because it will be too dangerous by daylight. Now—let’s get moving. Find a safer place to lie up until dark.”

“I don’t understand,” Stirner said.

“I do,” Morton said, his newfound freedom having restored his intelligence. “It’s that talking bird, isn’t it? We hid it in that ammunition box—”

“Under the canteens of booze. Another reason to hurry before they drink all the way down and find the false bottom. When you heard that bird talk to me it was transmitting the voice of my dear friend. Captain Varod of the League Navy. A power for good in this evil galaxy. He is paid to keep the peace. He doesn’t know where we are—yet. But he knew we were going ofiplanet. So that bird must contain some kind of signaling device or he would not have forced it on us.”

“To the bird and salvation!” Morton cried.

“The bird, the bird!” we shouted together happily while the others stared at us as though we had gone mad.

Chapter 19

Bellegarrique was a big, sprawled-out city with very few straight streets or large buildings—once we got away from the center. The word had been passed and the streets were busy with pedestrians and hurtling bicycles. We strolled on, apparently unnoticed. Yet everyone seemed to know where we were because every few minutes a bicycle rider would zip up and give the latest report on the enemy positions. This made it very easy to avoid the checkpoints and barricades, while at the same time giving us a chance to look around at the city. Neat and very clean, with a large river bisecting it. We hurried across one of the bridges, this would be a bad place to be caught in the open, and on to the residential district on the far side. The houses grew smaller, the gardens bigger, and we were well into the suburbs by early afternoon.

“This is far enough,” I announced. I was tired and my kicked-upon ribs were aching. “Can you find us a place to hole up until tonight?”

“Take your pick,” Stirner said, pointing around at the surrounding houses. “You are welcome wherever you want to go.”

I opened my mouth—then closed it again. Plenty of time later to ask him for information about the philosophy of Individual Mutualism that I knew he was eager to explain to me. I pointed at the nearest house, a rambling wooden structure with white-framed windows, surrounded by flowers. When we approached it the door opened and a young couple waved us forward.

“Come in, come in!” the girl called out. “Food will be on the table in a few moments.”

It was too. A delicious repast after the legions ofhotpups we had consumed on the voyage here. Our hosts looked on with approval while Morton and I stuffed our faces. For afters our host produced a distillate of wine that rolled across my palate very well.

“Our thanks,” I gasped, stuffed, replete. “For saving our lives, for feeding us up, for this wonderful drink. Our thanks to all of you, with particular thanks to the philosophy of Individual Mutualism which I assume you all believe in.” Much nodding of heads from all sides. “Which I am sorry to say I never heard of before visiting your fine planet. I would like to hear more.”

All heads turned now to Librarian Grene who sat up straight. And spoke.

“Individual Mutualism is more than a philosophy, a political system, or a way of life. I am quoting now from the works of the originator himself, Mark Forer, whose book on the subject you will see on the table there.” She pointed at a leather-bound volume and all of the others looked and smiled and nodded agreement. “As you will find it on a table in every home in Chojecki. You will also see above it a portrait of Mark Forer, the originator, to whom we will be ever grateful.”

I looked up at the picture and bulged my eyes. Morton gasped well enough for both of us.