's about over now. We'll know a lot more about them and where they
came from in twenty-four hours."

They had nothing further to say. The military man regarded them
thoughtfully. "I don't know about you three. If you ignored the
evacuation through no fault of your own and can prove it--"

"There were four of us," Jim Wilson said. "Then we met another man. He's
inside on the floor. I killed him."

"Murder?" the military man said sharply.

"He killed a woman who was with us," Frank said. "He was a maniac. When
he's identified I'm pretty sure he'll have a past record."

"Where is the woman's body?"

"On a bed upstairs," Wilson said.

"I'll have to hold all of you. Martial law exists in this area. You're
in the hands of the army."

* * * * *

The streets were full of people now, going about their business, pushing
and jostling, eating in the restaurants, making electricity for the
lights, generating power for the telephones.

Nora, Frank, and Jim Wilson sat in a restaurant on Clark Street. "We're
all different people now," Nora said. "No one could go through what
we've been through and be the same."

Jim Wilson took her statement listlessly. "Did they find out what it was
about our atmosphere that killed them?"

"They're still working on that, I think." Frank Brooks stirred his
coffee, raised a spoonful and let it drip back into the cup.

"I'm going up to the Chicago Avenue police station," Wilson said.

Frank and Nora looked up in surprise. Frank asked, "Why? The military
court missed it--the fact you escaped from jail."

"They didn't miss it I don't think. I don't think they cared much. I'm
going back anyway."

"It won't be much of a rap."

"No, a pretty small one. I want to get it over with."

He got up from his chair. "So long. Maybe I'll see you around."

"So long."

"Goodbye."

Frank said, "I think I'll beat it too. I've got a job in a factory up
north. Maybe they're operating again." He got to his feet and stood
awkwardly by the table. "Besides--I've got some pay coming."

Nora didn't say anything.

Frank said, "Well--so long. Maybe I'll see you around."

"Maybe. Goodbye."

* * * * *

Frank Brooks walked north on Clark Street. He was glad to get away from
the restaurant. Nora was a good kid but hell--you didn't take up with a
hooker. A guy played around, but you didn't stick with them.

But it made a guy think. He was pas