He shook her again, but more tenderly. "Deal. We'll try to reach your compartment." Living quarters were a sanctuary no one but a medic could legally enter without invitation. He removed his stainless identification plaque and slipped its chain about her throat. "If you see any of the guys who're watching for you, tell me but don't look at them." He took her arm again and alertly began to work through the throng. "Describe your protector." "Jeff Neal-Hayne. He's big, Al. Bigger than you. Heavier, but you've got muscles like he never saw. You look faster, too." Allen didn't know him, but the name was revealing. Not that anything but your Earth society number was official, but use of a double surname meant your father had elected to stay with your mother for at least a while after you were born. Most babies, of course, were immediately turned over to a Government creche, but it had always seemed to Allen that kids raised by one or more parents had other advantages too, although he had never been able to figure out just what they were. Maybe it was only his imagination. * * * * * At the edge of the park they chose the nearest double scooter which showed full battery charge. Allen leaned against the forward rail. "Herd it, will you, Nedda? Every time I think of the hundreds of hours I've spent plowing air with one of these gut-weighted things I want to break one. Hell, I can run faster. Anyway, you know where we're going." The girl smiled, pushed the power lever into forward range and steered into slow-moving traffic. "I saw a man lift a single, once, but that's all he was able to do with it." The lighted street seemed intensely bright after the dimmer reaches of the park. "Ever think of running one into the river?" She looked at him in amazement. "Fright, no. Why--you'd have to drive along a pedestrian path for at least a block to reach the bank!" Nedda spun the steering wheel to avoid a long string of solemn teeners playing follow the leader on singles. "You have funny thoughts, Al." "I'm laughing." He flexed his muscles, impatient, as usual, with another citizen's sluggish mentation. "I suppose the damn music never gets on your nerves, either?" "Music? Oh--the music." She listened as though for the first time to the muted strains which played continuously throughout the city--calming, soothing, lulling. "Of course not. Why should it?" "They've got it synchronized," said Allen. "Government's got it synchronized so you hear it just the same volume no matter where you are outside. You _have_ to listen to it." "Darling, your boredom's showing." He squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Don't let me spin you, lovely. I've got the answer." "Oh?" "Yeah. I applied for a DP this morning." "Al--_no_!" "Why not?" He put it like the needle thrust of a fighting knife, daring her to find a reason, half hoping she could.