ay, feeling secure behind the Wall."

"You're _not_ contemplating another peace-effort, John?" gasped an
elderly Stand-in.

"I'm contemplating survival!" the leader snapped. "I don't know that
we're in serious danger, but if it takes a peace-effort to make sure,
then we'll start one. So fast it'll knock out their industry before they
know we've hit them." He stood frozen for a moment, the mask lifted
proudly erect. "By Ike, I love the West! And it's not going to suffer
any creeping eruption while I'm at its head!"

When the President had finished and was ready to leave, the others
started donning their masks again.

"Just a minute," he grunted. "Number Six."

One of the men, about the President's size and build, looked up quickly.
"Yes, John?"

"Your cloak is stained at the left shoulder. Grease?"

Six inspected it curiously, then nodded. "I was inspecting a machine
shop, and--"

"Never mind. Trade cloaks with me."

"Why, if--" Six stopped. His face lost color. "But the others--might
have--"

"Precisely."

Six unclasped it slowly and handed it to the Sixteenth Smith, accepting
the President's in return. His face was set in rigid lines, but he made
no further protest.

Masked and prepared, a Stand-in whistled a tune to the door, which had
changed its combination since the last time. The tumblers clicked, and
they walked out into a large auditorium containing two hundred Secondary
Stand-ins, all wearing the official mask.

If a Secondary ever wanted to assassinate the President, one shot would
give him a single chance in ten as they filed through the door.

"Mill about!" bellowed a Sergeant-at-Arms, and the two hundred began
wandering among themselves in the big room, a queer porridge, stirred
clumsily but violently. The Primaries and the President lost themselves
in the throng. For ten minutes the room milled and circulated.

"Unmask!" bellowed the crier.

The two hundred and ten promptly removed their helmets and placed them
on the floor. The President was unmasked and unknown--unmarked except by
a certain physical peculiarity that could be checked only by a
physician, in case the authenticity of the presidential person was
challenged, as it frequently was.

Then the Secondaries went out to lose themselves in a larger throng of
Tertiaries, and the group split randomly to take the various underground
highways to their homes.

The President entered his house in the suburbs of Dia City, hugged the