he towers. Clay put the
slower lane screens on the block they were in, turned the blue and
yellow lanes to the block ahead.

They rolled past the interchange with NAT 114-South out of Cleveland and
the traffic densities picked up in all lanes as many of the southbound
vehicles turned west on to NAT 26. The screens flicked and Clay came alert.
Some fifteen miles ahead in the one-hundred-fifty-to-two-hundred-mile an
hour blue lane, a glowing dot remained motionless in the middle of the lane
and the other racing lights of the blue lane traffic were sheering around
it like a racing river current parting around a boulder.

"Trouble," he said to Martin, as he shoved forward on the throttle.

A stalled car in the middle of the high-speed lane was an invitation
to disaster. The bull horn blared as Beulah leaped past the two
hundred mile an hour mark and safety cocoons slid into place. Aft in
the dispensary, Kelly was sealed into her bunk by a cocoon rolling out
of the wall and encasing the hospital bed.

Car 5 slanted across the police lane with red lights flashing and edged
into the traffic flow in the blue lane. The great, red winking lights
and the emergency radio siren signal began clearing a path for the
troopers. Vehicles began edging to both sides of the lane to shift to
crossovers to the yellow or green lanes. Clay aimed Beulah at the
motionless dot on the screen and eased back from the four-mile-a-minute
speed. The patrol car slowed and the headlight picked up the stalled
vehicle a mile ahead. The cocoons opened and Ben slipped on his work
helmet and dropped down the steps to the side hatch. Clay brought Beulah
to a halt a dozen yards directly to the rear of the stalled car, the
great bulk of the patrol vehicle with its warning lights serving as a
shield against any possible fuzzy-headed speeders that might not be
observing the road.

As Martin reached for the door, the Wanted bulletin flashed through
his head. "What make of car is that, Clay?"

"Old jalopy Tritan with some souped-up rigs. Probably kids," the
junior officer replied. "It looks O.K."

Ben nodded and swung down out of the patrol car. He walked quickly to
the other car, flashing his handlight on the side of the vehicle as he
went up to the driver. The interior lights were on and inside, two
obviously frightened young couples smiled with relief at the sight of
the uniform coveralls. A freckled-faced teenager in a dinner jacket
was in the driver's se