sleek machine, with
its distinctive markings was still being repaired. And he'd been forced
to use this unmarked security patrol heli. The machine wasn't really too
bad, of course. It had a superb motor, and it carried identification
lights and siren, which could be used if necessary. But it resembled
some lower-class citizen's family carryall. And, despite its
modifications, it still handled like one. Morely grimaced and eased the
wheel left a little. The helicopter swung in a slow arc.

Helis were rising from the factory lots, to interlace with incoming
ships before joining with the great stream headed south. The night
workers were heading for home. Morely hovered his machine for a moment,
to watch the ships jockey for position, sometimes barely avoiding
collisions in the stream of traffic. He watched one ship, which edged
forward, stopped barely in time to avoid being hit, edged forward again,
and finally managed to block traffic for a time while its inept driver
fooled with the controls and finally got on course.

"Quarrelsome, brawling fools," he muttered. "Even among themselves, they
can't get along."

He looked around, noting that the air over the Administrative Group was
comparatively free of traffic. To be sure, he would have to cross the
traffic lines, but he could take the upper lanes, avoiding all but
official traffic. A guard might challenge, but he could use his
identifying lights. He wouldn't be halted. He corrected his course a
little, glanced at the altimeter, and put his ship into a climb.

At length, he eased his ship over the parklike area over Administrative
Square and hovered over the parking entry. A light blinked on his dash,
to tell him that all the official spaces were occupied. He grunted.

"Wonder they couldn't leave a clear space in Official. They know I'm
coming in for conference."

He moved the control wheel, allowing his ship to slide over to a
shopping center parking slot, and hovered over the entry, debating. He
could park here and take the sub-surface to Administrative, or he could
use the surface lot just outside of the headquarters group. Of course,
the director frowned on use of the surface lot, except in emergency. The
underground lots were designated for all normal parking. Morely thought
over the problem, ignoring the helis which hovered, waiting for him to
clear the center of the landing area. Finally, his hand started for the
throttle. He would settle in the landing slot,