pushing the food service cartherself. That did not make sense, especially considering last night'sstatement about Eric.
"I thought you'd want breakfast early," she coughed.
"You didn't have to bother, honey. Eric could have done it."
If she had been prying, the cart might have been a prop to take up assoon as he came out. On the other hand, what could she in hertechnical ignorance make of such matters anyway?
It was best not to rouse any deeper suspicions by openly noticing herwifely nosiness. At breakfast they pretended nothing had happened,devoting the time to mutually disapproved cousins, but all day long hekept wondering whether ignorant knowledge couldn't be as dangerous asthe knowing kind.
* * * * *
The next morning, after a long sleep, he went to the factory for thefirst of his semi-weekly work periods.
He sat before a huge console, surveying scores of dials, at the end ofa machine that was over five hundred yards long. Today it was turningout glass paper the color of watered blood, made only for Ritualpublications, packing it in sheets and dispatching them in automatictrucks; but the machine could be adjusted to everything from metalsheeting to plastic felts. At the far end sat another man, diminishedby distance, busily tending more dials that could really take care ofthemselves.
After a while the man went out for a break. Hart ran a hundred yardsto a section that was not working. He snapped it into the alloy supplyand fed in the tape. In a minute, several dozen tiny contacts camedown a chute. He pocketed them and disconnected the section justbefore his fellow worker reappeared.
The man walked down the floor to him, looking curious.
"Anything the matter?" he asked, hopeful for some break in routine.
"No, just felt like a walk."
"Know what you mean--I feel restless too. Too bad this plant's onlytwo years old. Boy, wouldn't she make a great disintegration!" Hegrinned, slapping a fender affectionately.
Hart joined in the joke. "Gives us something to look forward to in tenyears."
"A good way to look at things," said the other man.
At home he locked the contacts in a desk drawer. Tomorrow he woulddeliver most of them to Burnett's apartment.
But the next morning an emergency letter came from his group leader,warning him not to appear there. _I am going completely underground. Ithink they may suspect my activities. The dispersion plan must go intoeffect. You know how to reach Johnson and Wright and they each in turncan get to two others. Good luck!_
He had just put the letter in his pocket when Eric announced thearrival of a Rituals Inspector.
The man had nervous close-set eyes and seemed embarrassed by his needto make such a visit. Hart took the offensive as his best defense. "Idon't understand this, Inspector," he protested. "You people shouldbe busy with High Holy preparations. Are you losing your taste forwork?"
"Now, now, Mr. Hart, that's a very unkind remark. I dislike thisnonsense as much as anyone." His square jaw chewed into each word ashe opened his scanning box. "It's the anti-social sabotage."
"Do you mean to say I am under suspicion?" Marie was now loitering inthe doorway, worse luck.
"Oh, no. Nothing so insulting. This is strictly impersonal. TheScanning Center has picked apartments at complete random and we're tomake spot checks."
The eye at one end of the box blinked wickedly, waiting for aninformation feed. "Now, sir, if you'll pardon me, I'll just take therecords from one of those desk drawers--any drawer--and put them inthe box." Hart slid open a drawer. "No, sir, I think I'll try the nextone. It's regulation not to accept suggestions."
With a hand made deft by practise he scooped out all the sheets andtapes and put them in the box. The scanner's fingers rapidly sortedthem past the eye. Hart exhaled, relieved that an innocuous drawer hadbeen 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 ofthe desk and dumped everything before the scanner. His examination wasspeeding up and that was not good; he would have time to take moresample readings.
"Now if you'll empty your left pocket--"
* * * * *
"Oh, this is too much!" Marie exploded. "My husband struggles allnight 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." Heclosed up his box. "Sorry, but I have to leave. Heavy time sheettoday."
As soon as he was gone, Hart breathed easier. Nothing incriminatingwould be fed into the Central Scanner.
Marie became apologetic. "I'm sorry I said it, Wendell, but I couldn'tkeep quiet. All I did last night was peek in once or twice."
He shrugged. "I'm just on a minor project."
"Every bit counts." She shook her head. "Only you have to wonder--Imean, don't think I'm treasoning, but while I was shopping an hour agoa lot of women said you have to think--how come all that obsolescentjunk could work so well, after being thoroughly wrecked, too? Youalmost wonder whether some of it was too good for disintegration."
Wendell pretended to be shocked. "Just a fluke of circumstance. Ifsomething like that happened again you'd be right to wonder. But itcould not ever happen again."
"Don't get me wrong, Wendell. None of the women attacked anything. Itwas more like what you just said. They said if it happened again, thenyou'd have to wonder. But of course it couldn't happen again."
How well the tables had turned! Not only had Marie's ignorantknowledge proven helpful but she had now given him a positive ideaalso.
When he met Wright and Johnson at the latter's apartment that eveninghe explained it to them. "We can propagate 'dangerous' thoughts andyet appear completely loyal. We can set up the reaction to next HighHoly Day."
"How?" demanded Johnson. "That's having your cake and eating it."
"Nothing's impossible in the human mind," Wright said. "Let'slisten."
"Here's the point. Wherever you go there will be people tsk-tskingabout the Preliminary fiasco. Just reassure them, say it meant nothingat all by itself. If it ever happened again, then there would be roomfor doubt but, of course, _it could not happen again_!"
Wright smiled. "That's almost feminine in its subtlety."
He smiled back. "My wife inspired it. Don't get nervous--it wasunconscious, sheerly by accident."
"Whatever the cause, it's the perfect result," Johnson conceded."We'll spread it through the net."
"Along with this, I hope." Wendell dumped the contacts on a table top."It's the smallest size possible. A lot should get by unnoticed. Findcell members who can set up cryotrons with a wide range ofinstructions to cope with anything in the piles. Some weirdly aliveconcoctions of 'obsolescent' parts ought to result."
"Some day the world's going to know what you've done for it," saidJohnson solemnly.
"That could happen too soon!" Miss Wright's face, honest and open inits horse-like length, broke into a wide grin.
"Amen," said Hart, adding the private hope that Marie, blessed withsuperior looks, might be able to show as much superior wisdom someday.
* * * * *
The hope was not immediately fulfilled. When he reached home Marie wasin a tizzy of excitement. "You're just in time, darling. They justcaught three subversives. One of them was a woman," she added as thiswere compounding an improbability with an impossibility. "They'regoing to show them."
He gripped his belt tightly. "A woman?"
"That's right. There she is now."
A uniformed officer was gently helping a pale little old woman sitdown before the camera, as if she were more an object of pity than offear. Hart relaxed.
"--caught red-handed with the incriminating papers," shouted anoffstage announcer. "Handbills asserting objects declared obsolescentcould actually last indefinitely!"
"What do you have to say for yourself?" the officer asked gently. "Youmust realize, of course, that such irreligious behavior precludes yourmoving in general society for a long time to come."
"I don't know what came over me," she sobbed in a tired voice."Curiosity. Yes, curiosity, that's what it was. I