John stepped into car three as the snake stopped. He placed his disk in the slot, waited a moment, then moved inside as the Clear buzzer sounded. He'd tried to fake his disk a few times, cutting imitations from plastic cans, but the auto-guard was too damn smart. It always rang for the Blast each snake carried in a little booth hinged to the last car. He found a seat near a window and glanced around. Not half-filled this early in the day. Later, when four o'clock came, it would be jammed. He turned to the window and watched the familiar shabby streets flow by. As they entered Sinai territory, he felt a tightening of the stomach muscles. But then he laughed and remembered he was on the snake, not invading. Nevertheless, when two big kids got on and took seats across the aisle, he knew a moment of fear. They were Sinais, all right. He'd seen the muscular one in a caper last winter. And they knew him for an Adolph. They exchanged glares, and John kept his face tough. The muscular Sinai took out a knife, holding it low so no one but John could see and began to run his finger over the blade. John reached for his own sticker; then stopped. He grinned and whistled ONE GALAXY, ONE PEOPLE. The Sinais didn't like it. It was equivalent to calling them Outsiders. But their corner came along and they had to hop it. John turned back to the window. He'd get his sticker into that muscular one; see if he didn't! "Your sister sleeps with Outsiders," a soft voice murmured. John jerked around, and saw the three kids shuffling past his seat. They grinned at him and the soft-spoken one said, "You don't like it, Adolph? Step off at Benito Street and we'll have it out." John controlled his rage. "Some other time," he said, voice calm. "I'm capering Upper City today. Maybe you boys would like to declare a truce and come along?" They all stared at him. Then the one who did all the talking said, "Hell, he's a foul-blood liar!" "Sure," John said as they slumped into seats. "Follow me to the Split and see." "Okay," another Son of Musso said. "We will." And the three of them grinned at him. John grinned back, but he felt far from Aryan inside. Now he wouldn't be able to jet out. Now he'd really have to cross the Split. He began to sweat, hoping the snake would break down along the route, that a Blast would stop him from crossing, that the Earth would blow up! Anything to keep from having to cross the Split. He knew now that he'd never meant to do it--just take a ride, kill some time, and bluff Pete when he got back. Ten minutes later, the Last Corner sign lit up at car end. The three Sons of Musso strolled out into the street and waited, standing quietly under the eyes of the Blasts who were always around the dry river bed which separated York from Upper City. This was the Split, and John had to leave the car. He came out, walked past the three kids toward the span, and stopped at the gate. "One to Upper City," he said, throat dry.