underground. I
think they may suspect my activities. The dispersion plan must go into
effect. You know how to reach Johnson and Wright and they each in turn
can get to two others. Good luck!_

He had just put the letter in his pocket when Eric announced the
arrival of a Rituals Inspector.

The man had nervous close-set eyes and seemed embarrassed by his need
to make such a visit. Hart took the offensive as his best defense. "I
don't understand this, Inspector," he protested. "You people should
be busy with High Holy preparations. Are you losing your taste for
work?"

"Now, now, Mr. Hart, that's a very unkind remark. I dislike this
nonsense as much as anyone." His square jaw chewed into each word as
he opened his scanning box. "It's the anti-social sabotage."

"Do you mean to say I am under suspicion?" Marie was now loitering in
the doorway, worse luck.

"Oh, no. Nothing so insulting. This is strictly impersonal. The
Scanning Center has picked apartments at complete random and we're to
make spot checks."

The eye at one end of the box blinked wickedly, waiting for an
information feed. "Now, sir, if you'll pardon me, I'll just take the
records from one of those desk drawers--any drawer--and put them in
the box." Hart slid open a drawer. "No, sir, I think I'll try the next
one. It's regulation not to accept suggestions."

With a hand made deft by practise he scooped out all the sheets and
tapes and put them in the box. The scanner's fingers rapidly sorted
them past the eye. Hart exhaled, relieved that an innocuous drawer had
been selected, and the inspector handed back the material to him.
"Well, Inspector, that's that."

"Not quite." The Inspector selected another drawer at the other end of
the desk and dumped everything before the scanner. His examination was
speeding up and that was not good; he would have time to take more
sample readings.

"Now if you'll empty your left pocket--"

* * * * *

"Oh, this is too much!" Marie exploded. "My husband struggles all
night on secret work, studying to find ways to stop the anti-socials,
and you treat him like one of them!"

"You're working on the problem?" the Inspector said respectfully.
"What are you doing?"

Frying pan to fire. Hart preferred the pan and pulled open a drawer.
"It's too complicated, too much time needed to explain!"

The Inspector glanced at his watch. "I'm falling behind schedule." He
closed up his box. "Sorry