They were into the outer parts of the city now, a region which seemed to be middle class or a bit higher. Residential and business districts were mixed together indiscriminately, unlike the pattern Caine had often seen on Earth, and he asked about it.

"Vehicles are fairly rare on Plinry," Galway explained. "Even the more well-off among the common people need to live within walking distance of their work and shops. Actually, out here in the newer areas home and work are relatively well separated. Farther in, in the poorer parts of the city, people often live and work in the same building. Of course, things are different in the Hub. We have a fair number of autocabs, so you should have no problem getting around."

"The Hub, I take it, is the government center?"

"Yes, and most government families live there, as well." He pointed out the front of the car. "You can see some of the main buildings from here."

The structures were no more than a few kilometers away, Caine estimated, which made the tallest only a dozen or so stories high. Not exactly skyscraper class, but they still towered over the two- and three-floor buildings Caine could see around him. Capstone, it appeared, was a very flat town.

As Galway had indicated, the city was becoming progressively more lower class as they traveled inward. Houses became scarcer as nearly all business buildings included a floor or two of apartments. There were more people on the walkways than had been visible farther out, too, and they looked shabbier. It was hard to read expressions at the speed they were making, but Caine thought he saw unfriendliness and even hostility in the occasional glances sent at the Security car. That was a good sign—if the people had come to respect the government his chances of finding a useful underground would have been negligible.

The car turned a corner, and a block ahead Caine saw a gray wall cutting across their path. A metal-mesh gate sat across the road, flanked by two guards in the same gray-green uniforms Galway and the driver were wearing. One of them approached the car as it rolled to a stop. "IDs, gentlemen?" he said briskly.

All three, including Galway, handed over their cards. After a quick perusal he returned them and gestured to a third guard behind the mesh, who promptly disappeared behind the wall to his left. The gate slid open, closing again once the car had passed through. "New recruit?" Caine asked, nodding back toward the gate.

"Not at all," Galway answered. "Our security checks are done by the book here." There was a touch of pride in his voice.

It was only a short drive to the five-story building labeled Plinry Department of Planetary Security. Galway and Caine got out at the main entrance and went inside, leaving Caine's luggage in the car with Ragusin. Two floors up they entered a small room equipped with two chairs, a table and phone, and a device Caine remembered from the New Geneva 'port. "If I may have your ID, Mr. Rienzi... thank you. Would you please sit here and put your thumbs on the plate?"

Again the brief flicker of light touched Caine's eyes. Galway tapped a switch and nodded at Caine. "You can relax now, sir. I'm afraid it'll be another few minutes—one of the city's computers broke down yesterday and the other two are under a heavy load." He remained standing by the machine, as if his presence might encourage the computer to work faster.

"No problem," Caine said easily. "No reason why routine security checks should have a high priority."

Galway seemed to relax a bit. "I'm glad you understand. Tell me, are you staying on Plinry long?"

"Just ten days, until the next flight heading back to Earth. I have to get back to work then."

"Ah, yes—the captain radioed that you were from the Senate. Aide to Senator Auriand, or something equally important."

"Auriol," Caine corrected automatically. "Yes, I'm one of his aides. It's really a minor post, but Dad thought this would be a good way to get some experience in politics."

"Your father's in government work too?"

"Yes. In fact, he's been in politics since the end of the war. Started out as Councilor in Milan and is now Third Minister for Education."

"So you were prepared at an early age, I gather?"

Prepared—a euphemism for loyalty-conditioned. The conversation was taking an uncomfortable direction. "When I was five," he replied curtly, dropping the temperature in his tone a few degrees. A senatorial aide shouldn't have to put up with questions like that.

Galway got the message and back-pedaled rapidly. "I'm sorry, Mr. Rienzi—I didn't mean to get personal. I was just curious." He stopped abruptly, and Caine could almost hear him casting around for a safer topic of conversation. "Are you here on business or just for a vacation?"

This was safer territory for Caine, too. "Both, actually. I'm here on my own time and charge plate, but I'm going to be working, too." He paused, radiating a combination of shyness and pride. "I'm going to write a book."

Galway's eyebrows arched in polite surprise. "Really! About Plinry?"

"About the war, actually. I know a lot of books have been written, but most of them focus on Earth or the Centauri worlds. I want to write one from the point of view of people in the more distant parts of the TDE. Since Plinry was a sector capital and major military base, I figure it should have all the background records I'll need."

"Our archives are quite extensive," Galway nodded. "I trust you have the proper authorization papers?"

Here was where the bite of the government's eleventh-hour raid was going to catch up with him, Caine knew. "What, you need permission to write books here?" he said, smiling.

"Oh, no—I meant your permit to look in the records. You've got that, don't you?"

Caine let his grin vanish. "What permit is this?"

Galway frowned in turn. "The standard TDE Record Search form. You need one any time you want to look at official documents."

"Damn! Nobody told me I'd need anything like that here." Caine let indignation slip into the embarrassed anger in his voice. "Hell. Look, I'm a member of the TDE government, and nothing I want to see is classified. Can I maybe look at them with a guard watching over my shoulder?"

Galway shrugged. "You can ask at the Records Building, but I don't think they'll let you. Sorry."

"Damn." Caine glowered at the floor for a moment, then looked up at the verification machine. "Isn't that damn computer done yet?" he muttered irritably.

"I'll see if I can hurry it up." Galway touched a switch; seconds later a green light came on and Rienzi's ID appeared. "Ah. All set," he said, handing back the card.

Such convenient timing, Caine thought. He doubted it was coincidence, but had no intention of challenging Galway on it. Belatedly, he was beginning to wonder if the prefect really was the eager-to-please lightweight he seemed. Fortunately, grinning idiocy was a game for any number of players. If Galway had, in fact, deliberately kept the verification machine from finishing its job Caine had every right to be angry; but it would be more to his advantage to let the prefect think he was stupid. So he took the card without comment and stood up. "Is that all?"

"Yes. I'll get you an information packet on the way out. It lists restaurants and entertainment, gives autocab and air travel information, maps of the city and surrounding area—that sort of thing." He hesitated. "I'm sorry, but I won't be able to offer you a full-time guide. I'm afraid we're a little short-handed."

"That's okay," Caine said magnanimously. The last thing he wanted was an official baby-sitter. "Doesn't look like I'll have much use for one, anyway."

"What are you going to do?" Galway asked as they left the room and walked down the hallway toward the elevators.