Race Against Time
followed it one night. Runs into a forest and peters out into nothing. Yet Dad drives to work that way every morning."
    "Drives to work?"
    "Oops—you didn't have cars in nine hundred seventy-six! It—it's like riding an elephant, only it's metal. A metal elephant you sit inside."
    She laughed. "The Standards don't use metal elephants, either."
    "No. They have floating balls. But what did you make of the bus, if you don't know about driving?"
    "Bus?"
    "You were at the bus station. You must've come in a bus, and you saw the driver drive away."
    "Oh, you mean the hollow dragon!" she considered. "I left on the elephant. Then"—she faltered—"I must have slept."
    "So you don't really know how you got here? It figures."
    "Perhaps on one of their floating balls."
    "Probably. I have an identity key that will make one of them operate for me. If you ever see one of those balls coming down on your village, get over to it quickly; it'll mean I've escaped and figured out your location. I'm not fooling—the Standards never fly those balls in sight of a zoo." Then he had a disturbing second thought. "You do want to escape?"
    "I want to take my hajj, John, my pilgrimage to Mecca, next month."
    "Oh, sure. After that, I mean. And your—you know—Humé?"
    "I do not know Humé," she said disdainfully. "But I may not be at my village. The university of Jenne...."
    She was avoiding his question, refusing to commit herself, but she had given him the coordinates. "I may come anyway. If this foul-up that introduced us doesn't change everything."
    "I'm glad it happened," Ala said.
    John looked at her, surprised and gratified. "Yes! So am I."
    They were in sight of Newton now, but it didn't matter.
     

Escape from Newton
    Mom was gently shaking him awake. "John, it's breakfast time, and you aren't up yet! The eggs will get cold."
    He sat up dazedly. What had happened?
    Mom was watching him with concern. "Do you feel all right, dear? You were talking in your sleep."
    John rubbed his eyes. Canute was there, tail wagging. Everything was in order except his own head. The dizziness passed reluctantly, and chaotic images danced behind his eyeballs. "Guess I was dreaming, Mom," and for a moment he believed it. Then he caught himself repeating "0544071364" and knew that the black girl with the golden ornaments had been no fantasy. Somehow the Standards had erased that day and started over!
    He must have been drugged. That would account for his unusual confusion upon waking and the fleeting nightmare visions. He usually woke clearheaded.
    John played along. The ruse might have worked if he had not long since known about the Standards. He would have shaken off the memory of Ala, her Moslem religion, her thousand-year antiquity, along with the irrelevant notions. She would, indeed, have become a dream. But he did know about the Standards, and so did she. And now he had another major piece of the puzzle. Black purebreds as well as white purebreds! Each one in his or her own zoo....
    One other thing: The Standards certainly could not have overheard yesterday's conversation, or they would have known that he knew about them and was plotting to escape. And they would never have tried this simplistic stunt or given him his chance to join with Betsy! So he had been right: They could see but not hear outside the developed town. That was good to verify, and it gave him renewed confidence.
    But he could do nothing at the moment. If he gave himself away, it could lead to trouble for all the purebreds—himself and Betsy, Ala and Humé. He had to act natural now. Once he was free—if he got free, if his plan with Betsy worked....
    He snapped his fingers as he trotted down the stairs. He could do something now! He could figure out that coordinates system so he would know exactly where to find Ala! But he was unable to concentrate, for Mom and Dad kept him occupied with one preparatory chore or another all morning.
     
    This time they took no chances. Betsy arrived in

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