"Are you alright?"

The woman looked at him in complete mystification. It was only after a number of seconds that recognition dawned. "It's you."

"Right."

"You helped me through the crowd."

"Are you okay?"

"Why did they have to do that?"

"You're bleeding."

The woman put a hand to her forehead. She looked surprised at the blood on her fingers. "I'm bleeding."

"You want to go to the emergency room?"

She shook her head emphatically. "I don't like those places."

"You ought to get someone to look at that cut."

"It'll be alright. What I'd really like is a drink."

Despite himself, Ralph grinned. "Now you're talking."

Sam put down The House at Pooh Corner and reached for the TV's on/off switch. The cat watched him with absorbed interest. A picture spread out across the screen. The color shimmered for a moment and then held steady. It was much too green, but Sam didn't bother to adjust it. He didn't really like watching TV. To be precise, he didn't like to have to concentrate on it. Most of the time he would turn it on and just let the sound and vision wash over him. With that attitude, it didn't matter whether the color was balanced or not. He frequently told himself he only turned it on for the sake of the cat. In fact, when Max wasn't eating or pestering Sam in order to eat, he was asleep. Sam attributed a great deal to Max. Much of it was his own imagination.

"So remember, with Securicare, you know who's there."

It was an ad for a closed-circuit door scanner. The scene was a spick, orderly B+ home. A trim, attractive housewife responded to a set of door chimes. The picture cut to the exterior of the same house. Standing on the doorstep was a sinister figure. He wore the typical close-cropped hair, earring, the black nylon jacket and heavy boots of a kid from a welfare gang. He wasn't, however, built like any juvenile Sam had ever seen. He had the physique of a block position ball player. His eyes were red-rimmed and a scar ran down his left cheek. Between thick chubby fingers he held a length of boat chain. He was every B + 's nightmare of rape, robbery, and terror.

Sam looked at Max the cat. "They sure do run some crap."

Max yawned. The picture was back to the housewife. The music held its breath as, unaware of the horror on the step, her hand went to the door latch. Then the picture froze.

"With Securicare you don't have to open to look."

The motion continued again, only the scene had subtly changed. This time the woman's hand was operating the control of a Securicare door scanner. The brute on the step appeared on the machine's small, full color screen. Without hesitation or even any noticeable change of expression, the woman reached for the hall phone, presumably to call for either help or the police. Again the picture froze.

"With Securicare, you know who's there."

Sam sighed. "I guess we don't need one of those. We don't have anything worth stealing."

The NCC logo came up on the screen. The voice over it was urgent. "Tomorrow at ten."

It was a trailer. A gang of gaunt men, clad in filthy rags and holding makeshift weapons, charged across a bare, sunlit expanse of concrete. Another set of men waited for them in a disciplined half circle. They wore tight black uniforms and visored helmets. They all cradled riot guns or held electric prods at the ready. The ragged mob halted. In the middle of them was a pneumatic blonde in a white plastic nurse's outfit. She was obviously a captive or hostage. Her arms were being forced behind her back and the front of her blouse was ripped to fully expose one breast. There was a close-up of one of the men holding her. He yelled, showing a set of yellow, broken teeth.

"You better let us through, Molloy, or the nurse gets it."

A cold voice came from behind a visor. "She knows she's been on her own since you animals grabbed her. I'm going to count to five and open fire."

There was a shot of the riot guns slowly being leveled.

"One-two-three-four."

Fade-out. The voice-over came back.

"Don't miss May Marsh in another savage episode of 'Penal Colony,' tomorrow at ten, on this channel."

The NCC logo came back again, only this time it was against a background of shifting, moving patterns of color. They were similar to the ones in the feelie adverts. Loud rock music on the polite side of tension, the kind the old folks liked, fought with a burst of almost hysterical canned applause. After a few seconds, the music won. It was joined by an enthusiastic but disembodied choir.

"Everybody's dreaming

Everybody's scheming

Everybody's got their

Wildest dreams

Maybe it's you

Baby it's you

Maybe your wildest dreams Really will come tr-u-u-e."

A heavenly staircase materialized among the swirling patterns. The choir was replaced by an equally enthusiastic voice-over.

"And now… the man who makes it happen… the man who makes dreams come true… Mister… Bob… bee…"

Sam hit the channel selector. As he flicked through the seemingly endless selection he looked regretfully at Max. "I'm sorry, cat. I can't watch those game shows anymore, not since Ralph explained how they were fixed."

BOBBY PRIEST'S VOICE HAD DROPPED to its lowest, most reverent tone. The crowd were hushed. They weren't going to mess up the moment of anticipation. The light had shrunk to harmonize with the mood. He stood alone in a single white-blue spot. The black sequins on his formal suit glittered with every slight movement.

"Well, my friends, now we come to that moment in the show where the hopes are highest and the pitfalls are deepest."

He paused to let the spurious drama of the moment sink right home.

"Waiting outside are four young people. For each one it is another moment of truth on the trail of their wildest dreams. Very soon you and I will know whether each one of them has come closer to that big prize, that lifetime contract for a feelie of their choice, or whether those dreams will have been dashed forever."

If anyone had cared, right then, to drop a pin, the whole studio would have heard it.

"Yes, my friends, it's that moment again. It's time for…" His voice lifted. "The Dreamroad!"

Right on cue the lights blazed up, the audience roared, and Wanda-Jean and her three companions bounced out into the studio. Wanda-Jean made every effort to look as happy and confident as the others. Inside, she felt like a Christian trotting out to meet the lions.

The contestants wore the usual costumes. The only change was that the numbers on them were in gold rather than red as they had been in the preliminary stages.

Wanda-Jean didn't doubt they were still made out of the material that inevitably dissolved in water.

Bobby Priest's voice rose over the shouting and cheering of the crowds in the bleachers. The contestants formed a line beside the host's raised podium. Priest turned toward them with a sweeping gesture.

"And let's meet the people who are taking a chance on the chance of a lifetime tonight."

The cameras moved in on the contestants. They all smiled just like they'd been told at the briefing.

"Wearing number one, it's the fantastic Sammy. Those of you who watched last week will remember just how truly amazing Sammy's been on the Dreamroad. If he gets through tonight he's got just two…"

He let the momentous fact sink in.

"That's right, two more shows between him and the big, big prize."

The cheering rose to an almost deafening volume. Sammy was the current blue-eyed boy of the show. He had the kind of soft sandy hair that just begged to be tousled, and his open freckled face had inspired double page pin-ups in the fan rags. Sammy ducked his head shyly and gave out a toothy grin as the camera pulled him into close-up. The subteen girls in the crowd went even wilder. Bobby Priest let them run on for a while and then raised his hands to cut it off.