John Proctor tread quickly down the corridors of Government House, not wanting to appear hasty, but concious that haste was needed. His acolytes, accustomed to a more measured gate, had difficulty keeping up but dared not lag behind an eighty-four year old man. A bell tolled nine times, the sun was disapearing behind the lower hive spires. His shadow grew long in front of him as he passed the administrative offices towards the Official Residences. A brief staircase and then a frescoed hall led to the lift that would take him to the private chambers of the Governor. A pair of Guardsmen in brilliant red tunics acknowledged Proctor with a brisk salute as he and his entourage entered the lift. From the lift, surrounded by glass, the Hive could be seen sprawling in every direction, half in shad