d had to backtrack. It was,
therefore, dawn before he reached the outskirts of Hollywood. In any
other city he would not have been conspicuous--simply a man on his way
to work; only women slept late. However, Hollywood was off-limits to
every male. The city was not only the seat of the Directorate, but the
manufacturing center for the cosmetics industry. And since that gave
women her charm, it was a business no man worked at.

George had to have a disguise. He stopped on a residential street,
where the people were still likely to be in their beds. He read names
on mail boxes until he found a house where an unmarried woman lived.
He had no way of knowing if she had a husband on approval with her,
but the box was marked "Miss." With any luck he might have got what he
wanted without disturbing her, but the woman was a light sleeper and
she caught him as he was putting on the dress. He was sorry he had to
slug her, but she gave him no resistance. A spark of hope, a spark of
long-forgotten youth glowed in her eyes; before she slid into
unconsciousness.

Wearing the stolen dress, which fit him like a tent, and an enormous
hat to hide his face, George parked his sedan near the Directorate
and entered the building when it opened at eight. In room after room
automatons demonstrated how to dress correctly; robot faces displayed
the uses of cosmetics. There were displays of kitchen gadgets,
appliances, and other heavy machinery for the home; recorded lectures
on stock management and market control. Here women came from every
part of the country for advice, help and guidance. Here the Top
Directors met to plan business policy, to govern the nation, and to
supervise the production of the compound. For only the Top
Directors--less than a dozen women--actually knew the formula. Like
their stockholdings, the secret was hereditary, passed from mother to
daughter.

George searched every floor of the building, but found nothing except
exhibit rooms. Time passed, and still he did not find what he had come
for. More and more women crowded in to see the exhibits. Several times
he found new-comers examining him oddly; he found he had to avoid the
crowds.

Eventually he went down steps into the basement, though a door marked
"Keep Out." The door was neither locked nor guarded, but there was a
remote chance it might lead to the production center for the compound.
In the basement George found a mechanical operation underway; at first
he to