secret passion for him, or something. Maybe he wanted to kill Pelton;
maybe he just wanted this to happen."

"I assume there's no chance of stopping a leak?"

Cardon laughed with mirthless harshness. "That, I take it, was
rhetorical."

"Yes, of course." Lancedale's face assumed the blank expression that
went with a pause for semantic re-integration. "Can you cover yourself
for about an hour?"

"Certainly. 'Copter trouble. Visits to campaign headquarters. An
appeal on Pelton's behalf for a new crew of Literates for the store--"

"Good enough. Come over. I think I can see a way to turn this to
advantage. I'm going to call for an emergency session of the Grand
Council this afternoon, and I'll want you sitting in on it; I want to
talk to you about plans now." He considered for a moment. "There's
too much of a crowd at O'Reilly's, now; come the church way."

Breaking the connection, Cardon dialed again. A girl's face, over a
Literate Third Class smock, appeared in the screen; a lovely golden
voice chimed at him:

"Mineola High School; good morning, sir."

"Good morning. Frank Cardon here. Let me talk, at once, to your
principal, Literate First Class Prestonby."