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sodas?” I suddenly realized that thelittle silver chair hanging from Burnita’s neck was an electric chair.
    â€œUh, wait.” I drew out some money. “Can we pay cash?”
    The checker’s pleasant face grew tense and puzzled. “Is this some kind of joke? Come on, folks, which of you should I bill?” She raised the light pen toward my forehead. God only knew what would happen if they found out we were uncoded.
    â€œHarry! Get us out of here!”
    A moment of disorientation and then we were back outside in the parking lot. A harsh alarm bell was ringing.
    â€œAs long as you can do teleportation, Harry, why not just take us back to the blunzing chamber?”
    â€œAw, that wouldn’t be any fun. I want to keep the super-stuff to a minimum. And what’s the big rush to leave? We just got here!”
    â€œLet’s steal a car like Joe said,” urged Sondra. “I’ve always wanted to be a big blond in a stolen getaway car.”
    â€œWhat are we getting away with?” I asked sourly.
    â€œThe soda!” Prettily she raised the two six-packs up like earrings. She looked like Marilyn in The Misfits .
    â€œIt’s beer now,” said Harry. “Let’s take that Cad.”
    We piled into a big white Cadillac with black leather upholstery. Sondra got in front with Harry, and I got in back with the beer. It was nice and roomy in there, almost as big as my bedroom back in Princeton. I wondered if Nancy was worried about me yet.
    Harry psych-started the car and peeled out.
    â€œThere must be a bad part of town,” he muttered, slewing into the traffic. “That’s where we should go. Someone there’ll tell us what’s really going on here. I think we should try and overthrow the government.” Harry dodged some cars and gave a whoop of laughter. We were still accelerating.
    â€œThis is neat,” Sondra giggled. “Give me a beer, Joe.”
    â€œYou two are getting overconfident,” I warned. “If some cop shoots us from behind, then Harry’s superpowers aren’t going to be worth a damn.” Grudgingly I opened three beers. Ah.
    Harry flipped on the radio. It was an evangelist, of course, this being a world of bad choices.
    â€œ. . . hatred,” said the radio. “Yes, hatred , my fellow Herberites. Gary came to preach hatred. I know this may sound strange to some of you out there in the radio audience, but it’s not a matter of conjecture. God hates the unbeliever, just as the unbeliever hates Gary Herber. Yes, friends, it’s true. Just look at the facts! On the one hand, we have Seth and Gary Herber bringing the clean wholesomeness of God’s Laws. On the other, we have the unbelievers, with their trumped-up charges and their public electrocution. Seth Herber died, yes, he died for mankind. But thanks to the blessed Scionization, Gary Herber lives with thousands of us, friends, and he’s ready to—”
    A laser blast shattered our rear window. Cops behind us, gaining fast. I threw myself down on the seat. “Teleportation time, Harry. Can you handle the whole car?”
    â€œNo problem.”
    Disorientation again, and then we were coastingdown a street of abandoned Moorish-style white stucco buildings with parapets around their flat roofs. Hard, midday sun overhead. The sirens were far away. Harry pulled up onto the curb and we got out. Shadows moved behind the buildings’ broken windows.
    â€œThis looks like the right place,” said Sondra, radiant in her white evening dress. She finished her beer and threw the can in the street. “I wonder who that Gary person is.”
    A rock flew down from one of the rooftop terraces and crashed through our car’s windshield.
    â€œI wish we had some guns,” I said.
    â€œLook in the trunk,” offered Harry.
    The trunk was unlatched, of course, and there were three bright plastic pistols, real sf-looking, with fins and