everyone: young Ellaby had learned his three R's--rules, rights,
responsibilities--satisfactorily. Ellaby had neither excelled nor
failed: he was by nature a first class citizen.

Running to keep up with the too big, too long-legged Dorcas Sinclair
who was carrying one of his suitcases in each hand, Ellaby was led
from the pneumo-station. The splendid, unimaginative geometric
precision of the Capitol stretched out before him in the dazzling
summer sunlight, the view serving as a leaven for Ellaby's usually
phlegmatic disposition. He could feel his spirits rise, his heart
thump more rapidly, speeding the sudden flow of adrenalin through his
body.

[Illustration]

This was the city. It was here where the fruits of whatever had gone
wrong in Ellaby's upbringing or whatever had gone wrong in the linear
arrangement of his genes would ripen. It was here where Ellaby, modal
Ellaby would pass his tests for top-secret work; unsuspected, average
Ellaby, would write his name in flaming letters across the pages of
history. It was here where Ellaby would kill the Dictator.

And after that--what? Chaos? A new order based not on modality but
something else? Ellaby wasn't sure. No one in the organization knew
for sure. The concept was staggering to Ellaby. It was the system--or
nothing. Well, let the others worry about it. They did the planning.
Ellaby was only the executioner.

* * * * *

The house was like all the others on the block, all the others in the
Capitol, a grimly solid structure of lets-pretend brick fronting on a
street which faded into distant haze, straight as a ruled line, to
north and south, crossing the east-west avenues at precise right
angles every five hundred feet. The grid pattern city, Ellaby
remembered from his rights course in school, (every man has the right
to a room and bath in any city as long as he is employed) made the
best use of available space for houses. The strip city is unnecessary
in time of peace--was there ever, had there ever been any other time?
the radial city is preferred for rapid transportation, being the
accepted pattern in the great economic hubs and ports like Greater New
York and Hampton Roads.

"You will have to live here with me" Dorcas Sinclair told Ellaby,
"until you pass your tests for employment. I don't have to tell you
how much depends on the outcome of those tests, Ellaby."

"But I can't fail them. I thought you knew my record."

Wit