ar-building to ourselves;
we could hide half the population."

That was decided upon. We all piled into the lorry, and Bish took it
to an inconspicuous place on the Second Level and let down. Ramon
Llewellyn and the others got out. Then we went up to Main City Level.
We passed within a few blocks of Hunters' Hall. There was a lot of
noise, but no shooting.

Joe Kivelson didn't have anything to say, on the trip, but he kept
looking at the pilot's seat in perplexity and apprehension. I think
he expected Bish to try to ram the lorry through every building we
passed by or over.

We found Dad in the editorial department on the top floor, feeding
voice-tape to Julio while the latter made master sheets for
teleprinting. I gave him a quick rundown on what had happened that he
hadn't gotten from my radio. Dad cluck-clucked in disapproval, either
at my getting into a fight, assaulting an officer, or, literally,
throwing money away.

Bish Ware seemed a little troubled. "I think," he said, "that I shall
make a circuit of my diocese, and see what can be learned from my
devoted flock. Should I turn up anything significant, I will call it
in."

With that, he went tottering over to the elevator, stumbling on the
way and making an unepiscopal remark. I watched him, and then turned
to Dad.

"Did he have anything to drink after I left?" I asked.

"Nothing but about five cups of coffee."

I mentally marked that: _Add oddities, Bish Ware._ He'd been at least
four hours without liquor, and he was walking as unsteadily as when
I'd first seen him at the spaceport. I didn't know any kind of liquor
that would persist like that.

Julio had at least an hour's tape to transcribe, so Dad and Joe and
Tom and Oscar and I went to the living room on the floor below. Joe
was still being bewildered about Bish Ware.

"How'd he manage to come for us?" he wanted to know.

"Why, he was here with me all evening," Dad said. "He came from the
spaceport with Walt and Tom, and had dinner with us. He called a few
people from here, and found out about the fake riot and police raid
Ravick had cooked up. You'd be surprised at how much information he
can pick up around town."

Joe looked at his son, alarmed.

"Hey! You let him see--" he began.

"The wax on Bottom Level, in the Fourth Ward?" I asked. "He won't blab
about that. He doesn't blab things where they oughtn't be blabbed."

"That's right," Dad backed me up. He was beginning to think of Bish