He blew his horn twice in reply and leaned far forward. The Harley leaped ahead, and he wonderedwhether they were radioing to someone further on up the line.

He ran for ten minutes and couldn't shake them. Then fifteen.

He topped another hill, and far ahead he saw the second block. He was bottled in.

He looked all around him for side roads, saw none.Then he bore a straight course toward the second block. Might as well try to run itNo good!There were cars lined up across the entire road. Theywere even off the road on the shoulders.

He braked at the last possible minute, and when hisspeed was right he reared up on the back wheel, spunit and headed back toward his pursuers.

There were six of them coming toward him, and at hisback new siren calls arose.

He braked again, pulled to the left, kicked the gasand leaped out of the seat. The bike kept going, and hehit the ground rolling, got to his feet and started running.

He heard the screeching of their tires. He heard acrash. Then there were more gunshots, and he kept going.They were aiming over his head, but he didn't know it.They wanted him alive.

After fifteen minutes he was backed against a wall ofrock, and they were fanned out in front of him, andseveral had rifles, and they were all pointed in the wrongdirection.

He dropped the tire iron he held and raised his hands."You got it, citizens," he said. 'Take it away."

And they did.

They handcuffed him and took him back to the cars.They pushed him into the rear^seat of one, and an officergot in on either side of him. Another got into the frontbeside the driver, and this one held a sawed-off shotgunacross his knees.

The driver started the engine and put the car intogear, heading back up 101.

The man with the shotgun turned and stared throughbifocals that made his eyes look like hourglasses filledwith green sand as he lowered his head. He stared forperhaps ten seconds, then said, "That was a stupid thingto do."

Hell Tanner stared back until the man said, "Very stupid,Tanner."

"Oh, I didn't know you were talking to me.""I'm looking at you, son.""And I'm looking at you. Hello, there."Then the driver said, without taking his eyes off theroad, "You know, its too bad we've got to deliver himin good shape—after the way he smashed up the othercar with that damn bike."

"He could still have an accident Fall and crack a couple ribs, say," said the man to Tanner's left.The man to the right didn't say anything, but the manwith the shotgun shook his bead slowly. "Not unless hetries to escape," he said. "L.A. wants him in good shape.

"Why'd you try to skip out, buddy? You might haveknown we'd pick you up."

Tanner shrugged.

"Why'd you pick'me up? I didn't do anything?"

The driver chuckled.

"That's why," he said. "You didn't do anything, andthere's something you were supposed to do. Remember?"

"I don't owe anybody anything. They gave me a pardon and let me go."

"You got a lousy memory, kid. You made the nationof California a promise when they turned you loose yesterday. Now you've had more than the twenty-four hoursyou asked for to settle your affairs. You can tell them 'no'if you want and get your pardon revoked. Nobody'sforcing you- Then you can spend the rest of your lifemaking little rocks out of big ones. We couldn't care less.I heard they got somebody else lined up already."

"Give me a cigarette," Tanner said.

The man on his right lit one and passed it to him.

He raised both hands, accepted it. As he smoked, he flicked the ashes onto the floor.

They sped along the highway, and when they wentthrough towns or encountered traffic the driver would hitthe siren and overhead the red light would begin winking.When this occurred, the sirens of the two other patrolcars that followed behind them would also wail. The drivernever touched the brake, all the way up to L.A., and bekept radioing ahead every few minutes.

There came a sound like a sonic boom, and a cloudof dust and gravel descended upon them like hail. A tinycrack appeared in the lower right-hand corner of thebullet-proof windshield, and stones the size of marblesbounced on the hood and the roof. The tires made acrunching noise as they passed over the gravel that nowlay scattered upon the road surface. The dust hung like aheavy fog, but ten seconds later they had passed out of it.

The men in the car leaned forward and stared upward.

The sky had become purple, and black lines crossed it,moving from west to east. These swelled, narrowed, movedfrom side to side, sometimes merged. The driver hadturned on his lights by then."Could be a bad one coming," said the man with theshotgun.

The driver nodded. "Looks worse further north, too," hesaid.

A wailing began, high in the air above them, and thedark bands continued to widen. The sound increased involume, lost its treble quality, became a steady roar.

The bands consolidated, and the sky grew dark as astarless, moonless night and the dust fell about themin heavy clouds. Occasionally, there sounded a ping asa heavier fragment struck against the car.

The driver switched on his country lights, hit thesiren again and sped ahead. The roaring and the soundof the siren fought with one another above them, andfar to .the north a blue aurora began to spread, pulsing.

Tanner finished his cigarette, and the man gave himanother. They were all smoking by then.

"You know, you're lucky we picked you up, boy,"said the man to his left. "How'd you like to be pushingyour bike through that stuff?"

"I'd like it," Tanner said.

"You're nuts."

"No. I'd make it. It wouldn't be the first time."

By the time they reached Los Angeles, the blue aurorafilled half the sky, and it was tinged with pink and shotthrough with smoky, yellow streaks that reached like spiderlegs into the south. The roar was a deafening, physicalthing that beat upon their eardrums and caused their skinto tingle. As they left the car and crossed the parking lot,heading toward the big, pillared building with the friezeacross its forehead, they bad to shout at one anotherin order to be heard.

"Lucky we got here when we did!" said the man withthe shotgun. "Step it up!" Their pace increased as theymoved toward the stairway. "It could break any minutenow!" screamed the driver. As they had pulled into the lot, the building had had theappearance of a piece of ice-sculpture, with the shiftinglights in the sky playing upon its surfaces and castingcold shadows. Now, though, it seemed as if it were a thingout of wax, ready to melt in a instant's flash of heat.Their faces and the flesh of their hands took on a bloodless, corpse-like appearance.

They hurried up the stairs, and a State Patrolmanlet them in through the small door to the right of theheavy metal double doors that were the main entranceto the building. He locked and chained the door behindthem, after snapping open his holster when he saw Tanner.

"Which way?" asked the man with the shotgun.

"Second floor," said the troooper, nodding toward astairway to their right, "Go straight back when you get tothe top. It's the big office at the end of the hall."

"Thanks."The roaring was considerably muffled, and objects achieved an appearance of natural existence once morein the artificial light of the building.

They climbed the curving stairway and moved along thecorridor that led back into the building. When theyreached the final office, the man with the shotgun nodded to his driver. "Knock," he said.

A woman opened the door, started to say something,then stopped and nodded when she saw Tanner. Shestepped aside and held the door. "This way," she said,and they moved past her into the office, and she pressed abutton on her desk and told the voice that said, "Yes,Mrs. Fiske?": "They're here, with that man, sir."