Under the blazing arc-lights on the set, President Stanton played
himself to the hilt, nearing the climactic, "Vote for the sake of the
Kinsmen! Vote for the freedom of the Temples! Vote for the life of the
Hive!" Just as he launched into this most important part of the script,
a page boy made his labyrinthine way on tiptoe through the cables
and reflectors and sound equipment to the chair of the director, and
whispered urgently in his ear. Frank got to his feet immediately.
"_Cut!_" he called.
Stanton looked up in some surprise, and it was a very baffled cameraman
who finally found enough strength to cut off his machine. The set was
dead quiet as Stanton arose from behind the prop-desk and looked in
unpleasant speculation at the source of the interruption.
Frank cleared his throat, and said, "I'm sorry. The scene was going
well, sir; that isn't why I cut it. You have a phone call, in Mr.
Lennick's office."
"I thought it was understood I was not to be disturbed while on the
set," said Stanton, still wondering if he should give vent to his
feelings of outrage.
"It was, sir. And is. But the call's from your personal secretary, sir.
She says it's of the utmost importance."
Stanton hesitated, dropped his script back down onto the desk, then
started decisively around the side of the desk toward the director.
"She had better be correct," he said darkly, brushing by Frank and the
crewmen without apology and vanishing into the corridor that led to
Robert Lennick's office. There was a brief silence, then a concerted
sigh of relief from the men on the set.
"Shall we wait," one of the crewmen asked Frank, "or shoot around this
scene and pick it up later?"
Frank spread his hands. "I don't _know_. I have to be sure he's coming
back, first--I'll go find out." He told his staff to relax until his
return, then hurried out after the President.
A hundred feet down the corridor, he rounded a turn. Up ahead he saw
Stanton just entering Lennick's office. Then, without hesitation,
Frank ducked into a nearby office, his own, and locked the door on the
inside. The lowest drawer of his desk had a false bottom. He triggered
the release on this, now, and lifted out the small black earphone-set
there, setting it dextrously across his head, magnetic speaker directly
over his ear. In the hollow of the now-exposed section was a telephone
dial. Frank swiftly spun it through the sequence of Lennick's office
number, then sat hunched forward over his desk, listening hard. He
heard Stanton pick up the phone, and say, "This is Stanton. What is
it?!"
Madge Benedict, his personal secretary, "It's Lloyd Bodger, Junior. You
told me to contact you the instant he got out of line again. Well, he
has, but good."
"As bad as the other two?" Stanton queried.
"Worse, much worse, sir. Bad enough to make the other two look good by
comparison. He was seen, this afternoon, on Ninety-Three-Level, in the
company of Andra Corby, the fugitive from hospitalization. You know,
sir, the movie star who was injured on the set yesterday."
Something sparked in Stanton's brain, then, and a hard light of
comprehension dawned in his eyes. "Wait--Let me think.... Of course!
She vanished yesterday from the Temple on Ninety-Five! And Lloyd was
there, too. I wonder--" He stopped idle speculation and snapped, "Get
me Bodger, quick!"
"His office," Madge told him after a moment on another line, "says he's
gone home, and you can--"
"I _know_ he's at home!" Stanton growled, "I just left him there. Get
him!"
There was a short silence, then she spoke again. "I'm ringing him, sir.
I don't think he's at home. No one answers."
"You know what to do as well as I do!" he said impatiently. "Put a
tracer on his Voteplate! See where he's gone to."
Another pause; while Madge coded an inquiry and flashed it to the
memory circuits of the enormous Brain beneath the Hive, and received
the near-instantaneous reply. "Sir," she replied, "he's taken the lift
to Ninety-Three-Level. The same place his son was seen."
"That's odd.... Do you suppose he knows about the Corby girl, too?
Or--" Stanton dropped the interrogation; Madge shouldn't be made to
think about it. The less she knew, trusted secretary or not, the
better. "Skip it," he said abruptly. "Find out for me where they might
be going on that level, their hangouts, haunts, and friends...."
Madge found the answers and got back on the line. "Three possible
places, sir. Dewey's Bar and Grill, in Sector Three, Miss Grace
Horton's Unit, and--"
"Lloyd's fiancee?!" Stanton interjected. "The one who attended the
wrong Temple Service last night...."
"I believe she did, sir. We sent out a memo--"
"And she got it this morning! Of course!" said Stanton, exultantly.
"And phoned Lloyd right afterwards!"
"I don't follow you, sir--" Madge said, blankly.
"Forget it," snapped the President. "I have all the information I need.
And," he added, with belated gratitude, "thank you for calling me, Miss
Benedict." He hung up without waiting for her reply.
Huddled over the desk in the dimness of his own office, Frank tore off
the earphones, dropped them back into the hollow of the drawer, and
re-closed the false bottom. He was out in the corridor again, headed
toward Lennick's office, with seconds to spare when Stanton came out.
"Sir," Frank said, turning about and falling into step with him on the
way back to the set, "I wonder if you'd care to finish the scene, or
should we shoot around it?"
"Shoot around it," Stanton said. "I can't be bothered with the filming,
today. Something's come up."
Frank nodded and let his pace slacken, allowing the President to move
away from him. After poising on his toes for an undecided second, he
whirled and dashed toward Lennick's office. If young Bodger had been
seen with Andra, in the same locale where the elder Bodger was now
heading--or had even arrived--there was going to be an explosion. An
explosion that might sweep Andra, the Bodgers, and the entire anti-Hive
movement with it, when Stanton got the wheels of his office in motion.