Alan thought. Clever. He said, "Isn't there any public surface
transportation in the city?"

"Nope. It was all banned about fifty years ago, on account of the
congestion. Taxis and everything. You can still use a private car in
some parts of the city, of course, but the only people who own them are
those who like to impress their neighbors. Most of us take the Undertube
or the Overshoot to get around."

The Shoot blasted off from its third stop and picked up passengers at
its fourth. Alan glanced up front and saw the pilot peering over an
elaborate radar setup.

"Westbound Shoots travel a hundred feet over the roof-tops, eastbound
ones two hundred. There hasn't been a major accident in years. But about
this rotation--that's part of our new economic plan."

"Which is?"

"_Keep the money moving!_ Saving's discouraged. Spending's the thing
now. The guilds are really pushing it. Instead of buying one piece of
fruit from a vender, buy two. Spend, spend, spend! It's a little tough
on the people in Free Status--we don't offer anything for sale, so we
don't benefit much--but we don't amount to one per cent of the
population, so who cares about us?"

"You mean it's sort of subversive not to spend money, is that it?" Alan
asked.

Hawkes nodded. "You get in trouble if you're too openly penny-pinching.
Keep the credits flowing; that's the way to be popular around here."

That had been his original mistake, Alan thought. He saw he had a lot to
learn about this strange, unfriendly world if he were going to stay here
long. He wondered if anyone had missed him back at the Enclave, yet.
Maybe it won't take too long to find Steve, he thought. I should have
left a note for Dad explaining I'd be back. But----

"Here we are," Hawkes said, nudging him. The door in the Overshoot's
side opened and they got out quickly. They were on another rooftop.

Ten minutes later they stood outside an immense building whose walls
were sleek slabs of green pellucite, shining with a radiant inner warmth
of their own. The building must have been a hundred stories high, or
more. It terminated in a burnished spire.

"This is it," Hawkes said. "The Central Directory Building. We'll try
the Standard Matrix first."

A little dizzy, Alan followed without discussing the matter. Hawkes led
him through a vast lobby big enough to hide the _Valhalla_ in, past
throngs of Earthers, into a huge hall lined on all sides by computer
banks.

"Let's take this