"We're nearing the rim of the first blockade zone," Danniels told the girl. "Where to?" "Circle around to first unrestricted beach of the lake shore." "And then." "Underwater." * * * * * Illegal traffic in and out of Disaster Areas was not completely unheard of. There was a small but steady flow both ways that the authorities could not or would not completely check. The patrols seemingly were as alert as humanly possible. Capture meant permanent oblivion for Disaster Residents under sedation, while Outsiders got prescribed periods of Morphinvert-induced antipode depression of the brain, a rather sophisticated but effective form of torture. A few minutes under the drug frequently had an introspective duration of years. Therefore, under the typical sentence of three months, a felon lived several lifetimes in constant but varying stages of acute agony and post-hysteric terror. While few personalities survived, many useful human machines were later salvaged by skillful lobotomies. Lake Michigan beaches were pretty good, Danniels observed. Better than at Hawaii. This one had been cleaned up for a sub-division that had naturally never been completed. It had been christened Falstaff Cove, although it was almost a mathematically straight half mile of off-white sand. He had shifted to four-wheel drive at the girl's direction and bored through the sand to the southernmost corner of the beach, where it blurred into weeds, rocks, dirt and incredible litter. He braked. The car settled noticeably. "There's a two-man submarine out there in the water under the overhang," Julie said without prompting. "We got it from the Armed Forces Day display at Soldier's Field." "What I'd like to know is how you get the car in and out of it?" Danniels said. Anger, disgust and fatigue crossed the girl's face. It was after all, a very young face, he thought. "We have Outside contacts of sorts," she said. "Nobody trusts them very much." He nodded. There was a lot of money in the Federal Reserve Vaults inside the city. The two of them got out of the car. Julie stripped off her jeans, revealing the bottom half of a swimsuit and nicely turned, but pale, legs. "We'll have to wade out to the sub." "What about the car?" Danniels asked. "Is your friend going to pick it up?" "No! They don't know about this place." He reached in the window and turned the ignition. "Want me to run it off into the water? You don't want to tag this spot for the authorities." "No, I--I guess not. I don't know what to do! I'm not used to this kind of thing. I don't know why I _ever_ come. We paid an awful lot for the car...." He found the girl's wailing unpleasant. "It's your car, but take my advice. Let me get rid of it for you."