"Sometimes I may talk like a radical, and maybe I am a little of a radical, I don't know. You look at the overall picture, things ain't too bad. I've known a lot of thieves and petty crooks in my time. As a class, for pure patriotism, I'll stack them up against anybody you can name; and in a way, you know, I'm kind of proud of that.... Well, let's shut up and get some shut-eye." * * * * * When finally he slept, Shamar dreamed that the Party was a vast, invulnerable pyramid resting on the shifting base of the population. It was constructed to dampen out vibrations. The bottom quivered, and the quiver ran upward a few inches and was absorbed. The top of the pyramid remained stable, fixed and motionless, indifferent even to its own foundation. The pyramid was built like an earthquake-proof tower. It was built to last. The Party was built to govern. It need only devote itself to its own preservation. Any other issue was secondary. It was an organic machine. The gears were flesh and blood. The people on top were maintenance engineers. Their job was to go around with an oil can that they could squirt when necessary to keep friction to a minimum. He awakened the following morning ravenously hungry and was hugely disappointed by breakfast. Even discounting his somewhat biased viewpoint, the food was inedible. Freed accepted Shamar's share eagerly with the comment, "It'll taste better after you miss a few meals. It always does." An hour later, the jailer came to open the cell. "Shamar the Worker? Get your stuff. We're going." Ge-Ge was waiting in the reception room. Her hair had been especially waved for the occasion. She wore a suit newly pressed and gleaming. She had tears in her eyes. She fled to his arms. "Darling!" she cried, caressing his face with childlike wonder. "Was it awful? Did they beat you?" "I'm fine." "Darling, we're going to get you out on bail. I've made all the arrangements. We just have to go to the Judge's chambers for a minute, and they'll let you go. Thank God you're going to be out of this horrible place, at least for a little while." The jailer brought Shamar's belt and his bag of possessions. Shamar signed a receipt for them and they went to the Judge. The Judge said, "Please be seated." He had a resonant and friendly voice. He went to his desk and sat down. Ge-Ge and Shamar seated themselves before him. "Ah, you young people," he said. "Now, you must be Shamar the Worker, and you--" "Garfling Germadpoldlt." "Of course." He turned to Shamar. "I hate to see a fine young person like you in trouble, Shamar. It seems to me such a waste. Man and boy, for sixty years I've been a dedicated worker for the Party. Oh, Shamar, when I think of that glorious paradise to come--that time of wealth and plenty for all--that time when the riches and abundance of Mother Itra will, from Automation, overflow alike the homes of the rich and poor...." They waited.