I held the hack in the yellow until the last instant, then veered right and cleared the concrete barrier by a foot, hit the down-curve at a hundred and eighty in a howl of gyros and brakes--and the thunderous impact of the combat car. Then I was off the pavement, fighting the wheel, slamming through underbrush, then miraculously back on the hard surface and coasting to a stop in the clear. I took a deep breath and looked back. The burning remains of the car were scattered for a quarter of a mile along the turnpike. That would have been me if I had gauged it wrong. I looked at the canopy of the hack. Three holes, not a foot apart, right where a passenger's head would be if he were sitting upright. Stenn was unconcernedly brushing glass dust from his jacket. "Very neat, Mr. Smith," he said. "Now shall we resume our journey?" "Maybe it's time you leveled with me, Stenn," I said. He raised his eyebrows at me slightly. "When Joe Naples' boy Friday pointed the gun at your head you didn't bat an eyelash," I said. "I believe those were your instructions," Stenn said mildly. "Pretty good for a simple businessman. I don't see you showing any signs of the shakes now, either, after what some might call a harrowing experience." "I have every confidence in your handling--" "Nuts, Stenn. Those three holes are pretty well grouped, wouldn't you say? The man that put them there was hitting where he was aiming. And he was aiming for you." "Why me?" Stenn looked almost amused. "I thought it was a little shakedown crew, out to teach me a lesson," I said. "Until I saw where the shots were going." Stenn looked at me thoughtfully. He reached up and took a micro-speaker from his ear. "The twin to the one you rashly disposed of," he said. "Mr. Haug was kind enough to supply it--for a fee. I must tell you that I had a gun in my hand as we approached the South Radial Intermix. Had you accepted the invitation to turn off, I would have halted the car, shot you and gone on alone. Happily, you chose to resist the temptation, for reasons of your own...." He looked at me inquiringly. "Maybe I'm sap enough to take the job seriously," I said. "That may possibly be true," Stenn said. "What's your real errand here, Stenn? Frankly, I don't have time to get involved." "Really? One wonders if you have irons in the fire, Smith. But never mind. I shan't pry. Are we going on?" I gave him my stern penetrating look. "Yeah," I said. "We're going on." * * * * * In twenty minutes, we were on the Inner Concourse and the polyarcs were close together, lighting the empty sweep of banked pavement. The lights of the city sparkled across the sky ahead, and gave me a ghostly touch of the old thrill of coming home. I doused that feeling fast. After eight years there was nothing left there for me to come home to. The city had a lethal welcome for intruders; it wouldn't be smart to forget that.