Just then the phone rang and Lloyd couldn't avoid knocking Andra to the floor in his effort to get the receiver off the hook before the bell could shatter the silence once more. "Hello?" he said, extending an upright palm toward Andra to beg her continued silence. "Lloyd?" said a subdued, tense female voice. "Grace!" he said, remembering his promise to come by with her card. "What--What do you want?" "I've got to see you, Lloyd," she said. "About last night." "When?" he asked. "As soon as you can make it." "Well--Maybe in ..." Lloyd peered across the room at his bureau clock. Almost noon. Non-essential lift usage precluded until after the twelve-to-one lunch period. If he hurried, he could key the lift-switch before the ban. Lifts in use were never disempowered. "If I catch the lift, fifteen minutes. Otherwise not till after one." "... All right." * * * * * Lloyd grabbed his jacket from the back of a chair. Andra stood up, apparently unharmed, and slid into her shoes. "Where are we going?" she asked, smoothing her dress. Lloyd looked at her. He hadn't considered--"I guess you'd better come with me," he said. "I'd hate you caught in the house. In my bedroom especially." There were seconds to spare when he closed the gate and thumbed Grace's level, the ninety-third. Anyone was permitted to travel to a level beneath their own. To go higher, you needed a duly authorized Voteplate, or an invitation from a higher-level dweller. The lift dropped smoothly down inside the shaft. Half-way to Grace's level, a red light glowed on the level-indicator. When they reached their getting-off place, the buttons would function no more until one o'clock. It saved needless crowding if lunching workers remained on their own levels. Otherwise, if a line were too long, a worker might be tempted to try his luck lower down, and if too many decided simultaneously, the bland flow of human traffic might be imbalanced, agglomerated beyond the capacity of the transportation systems. Inefficiency would result, with people returning late to their work, restaurants having too much leftover food, or not enough to go around. The Hive was too delicately geared for imbalance. So the lifts went off during lunch. "Grace Horton must be trusted," Andra said suddenly. "Look, Lloyd," she clutched his arm, forcing him to meet her gaze and listen. "If she hasn't found out, fine. Even Goons can't find out what a person doesn't know. But if she _has_ found out someone else used her cards--And called _you_, instead of reporting it to the authorities.... Then she can be trusted to hear about me." "I hope you're right," said Lloyd. The gate opened.