“That’s not what I mean. How can they help us without triggering the implantation more violently than they do? Some seem hardly bothered by it at all. This is treason, a capital crime, and yet it seems to have no effect on them.”

Eric nodded. “That’s the one flaw in the Major’s design. Something inside a man has an inherent sense of right and wrong. It doesn’t matter what the Major says—these people know that helping us is not wrong. It’s a capital offense only by executive fiat. Therefore, they get little or no pain response. If they were doing more than that, they’d probably have more trouble, but just to help us on our way…”

For a moment they were both quiet; then Eric spoke again. “When I see Clayne, I’m going to kick him in the shins for letting you go. However, I’ll file a complaint later.”

“He didn’t let me go,” she corrected. “When he wouldn’t stop, I grabbed his stun gun and threatened to use it if he didn’t let me out. I don’t think I really scared him, but I did convince him you needed help.” She paused. “Are they going to make it?”

“I hope so. If they get to Fairfax, they’ll be fine. Clayne has the squad car, and squad cars are running everywhere right now. The way out is all set. I think they stand an excellent chance. In fact, they should be on their way out by now.”

“And what about us?”

“Actually, that’s an interesting question. I—”

The door behind them opened, and Eric stood up, pulling Nicole up too. “Hold on a minute,” the man said, pushing past them. He slowly lifted the garage door and called to his sons. “Watt Thompson should be coming up the alley. Watch for him.”

A moment later he grunted in satisfaction and stepped back inside. A short, squat man followed, no more than a darker shape in the thick blackness of the garage. The garage door slid down, and then the owner of the house opened the car door. The dome light inside was dim but provided enough light for them to see each other.

“This is Watt Thompson,” the man said, motioning.

Eric stuck out his hand. “I’m Eric Lloyd. This is Nicole Lambert.”

“Well,” Thompson said in a voice that boomed even though he was whispering, “Lloyd himself. I’m proud to meet you.”

Eric turned to the host and his two sons. “We didn’t even hear your names and here you are risking your lives for us.”

“Bill Johnston. This is Alan and this is Craig.” The two boys grinned, half embarrassed, but obviously proud and excited.

“We think we may be able to help you,” Johnston went on.

“How?”

“I’ve got a permit to leave the city,” Thompson said.

Eric’s eyes widened. “A valid one?”