Without turning on the headlights, Kendall rolled the car out into the street and drove toward an aircab stand. He was several blocks from the Secretary's house before he turned on the headlights. * * * * * He parked the Secretary's car in a darkened alley a block away from the aircab office. As he drew back the handbrake, he heard Miller groan faintly in the back. "Quiet, friend," he said soothingly, and tapped him lightly on the head with the butt of the gun. Rapidly he went through the fat little man's pockets, tossing out cards of all different sorts before finding what he was looking for. Sure enough, there was his ID booklet. The picture was starting to take shape now, with everything falling into place except the answer to the big question: _Why?_ Why was the Secretary so anxious to see Stone out of the way? What was the whole business about? He didn't know. He pocketed the ID booklet. It wouldn't help him now, not with the police after him for breaking away from the spaceport, and maybe a kidnapping charge on top of that. Glancing at Miller to make sure he'd be out for a while to come, Stone got out of the car and walked the block to the aircab office. It was easy to rent one of them. All he had to do was show the bored clerk his ID booklet, and sign for the cab. "Remember," the clerk cautioned, "you can't take off inside the city limits. You'll have to drive outside Mojave first." "I know," Kendall said as he shoved the bills across the counter. "Thanks." He drove the aircar back to where he had left Miller in the Secretary's car, and transferred the unconscious man to the rear seat of the aircab. He looked around; no one in sight. _Good_, he thought. Then, in direct violation of the law, he lifted the aircar and headed into the night sky. The moon was bright overhead; the time was running short. The Governor's palace was over a hundred and fifty miles away. Stone figured he'd make it with very little time to spare. He set the autopilot, and reached back with one big hand to pick up Miller by his lapels. "Wake up, Miller!" The fat man shook his head groggily and opened one eye. He groaned. Stone slapped him across the face, just hard enough to sting. "Come on, damn you, wake up!" "Lemme alone," Miller murmured. A sharp blow with an open hand brought him to some attention. "Leggo." Stone shook him until his head wobbled. "Get up and look alive. I want to talk to you." "I ain't sayin' nothin'," Miller said sullenly. "I don't know nothin', and I can't tell you a thing." A few seconds' quick persuasion and he had changed his mind. "All right!" he yelled. "All right! I ain't got anything to lose, anyhow, unless you want to get me for pickin' your pocket." "I won't prosecute you if you talk," Kendall promised.