"You say Claire's alone at the store with
her father?"

"And a couple of store cops, sterling characters with the hearts of
lions and the brains of goldfish," Cardon replied. "And Russ
Latterman, and maybe four or five Conservative goons he's managed to
infiltrate into the store."

Prestonby was still thinking, aloud, now. "Maybe they did mean to kill
Pelton; in that case, they'll try again. Or maybe they only wanted to
expose Claire's literacy. It's hard to say what else they'd try--maybe
kidnap her, to truth-drug her and use her as a guest-artist on a
Conservative telecast. I'm going over to the store, now."

"That's a good idea, Ralph. If you hadn't thought of it, I was going
to suggest it. Land on the central stage, ask for Sergeant Coccozello
of the store police, and give my name. Even aside from everything
else, it'd be a good idea to have somebody there who can read and
dares admit it, till a new crew of Literates can get there. You were
speaking about the possibility of kidnaping; how about the boy? Ray?"

Prestonby nodded. "I'll have him come here to my office, and stay
there till I get back; I'll have Yetsko stay with him." He turned to
where the big man in black leather stood guard at the door. "Doug, go
get Ray Pelton and bring him here. Check with Miss Collins for where
he'd be, now." He turned back to the screen. "Anything else, Frank?"

"Isn't that enough?" the brewer-Literate demanded. "I'll call you at
the store, after a while. 'Bye."

The screen darkened as Cardon broke the connection. Prestonby got to
his feet, went to his desk, and picked up a pipe, digging out the
ashes from the bowl with an ice pick that one of the teachers had
taken from a sixteen-year-old would-be murderer. He checked his tablet
gun, made sure that there was an extra loaded clip in the holster, and
got two more spare clips from the arms locker. Then, to make sure, he
called Pelton's store, talking for a while to the police sergeant
Cardon had mentioned. By the time he was finished, the door opened and
Yetsko ushered Ray Pelton in.

"What's happened?" the boy asked. "Doug told me that the Senator ...
my father ... had another heart attack."

"Yes, Ray. I don't believe he's in any great danger. He's at the
store, resting in his office." He went on to tell the boy what had
happened, exactly and in full detail. He was only fifteen, but
already he had completed the four-year reading course and he could
think a great deal mor