were the fittest; they had demonstrated their
ability to survive unchanged under adverse condition. They would be
least helped by the Exodus. Yet they had worked for it all their
lives, as had their fathers before them, out of unselfish love for
humanity. There have always been such men. Through the murk of history
we see their lives as small, steady lights, infrequent and lonely.
With the opening of the Frozen Gate suddenly a possibility, the
technies forgot their exasperation with the stupid mob.

* * * * *

"The Gate is guarded," said an elderly man dubiously.

"A small guard," Gobet Hanlon remarked quickly, "and probably dazed
with merclite. Nothing to fear."

"Stay away from the Gate," Mich'l instructed. "Give no cause for
alarm. If an emergency arises while I'm gone, see Gobet."

"Don't go alone, Mich'l," Gobet begged. "A few of us with ray-needles
can storm the detention cells. We can clean out Lane's warren."

"We might, but the Senator and Nida would be gone. The alarm would be
given. In a few minutes there'd be a mob."

The technies were already dispersing eagerly. Mich'l pressed his
friend's hand, saying:

"I'll take my needle-ray, and I know every way to get around there is.
Alone, I'll attract no attention. Till later, Gobet!" And he was gone.

Mich'l's way was through the smaller, less frequented communication
passages used principally by the technies. Occasionally he did meet
citizens, still light-headed after their election victory celebration,
and lost, but he paid them no heed. He came to the ventilation center
of that level.

For ages no air had entered Subterranea from the outside. All of the
air had to be regularly reconditioned, and so was returned, through a
systematic network of air ducts, to a vast, central chemical plant. It
was a latter-day Cave of the Winds, where the north, south, east and
west winds of that buried empire regularly returned for a brief few
minutes of play amid chemical sprays, condensers, humidifiers,
oxydisers, to be again dispatched to their drudgery. This hall was
truly colossal, filled to the shadowy ceilings, a thousand feet high,
with gigantic pipes, tanks, wind-turbines.

* * * * *

The technie in charge had not yet returned, but Mich'l consulted the
distribution plan, and soon located the duct that led to Lane Mollon's
warren. In a few minutes he was running, helped along by a strong
current