The Minority Report And Other Classic Stories - Plot & Excerpts
A sweat-stained green card gave him permission to travel and to maintain no fixed address. A man looking for work needed to travel. He might have to go a long way. As he rode across town in the almost empty bus, Anderton studied the description of Ernest Temple. Obviously, the cards had been made out with him in mind, for all the measurements fitted. After a time he wondered about the fingerprints and the brain-wave pattern. They couldn’t possibly stand comparison. The walletful of cards would get him past only the most cursory examinations. But it was something. And with the ID cards came ten thousand dollars in bills. He pocketed the money and cards, then turned to the neatly-typed message in which they had been enclosed. At first he could make no sense of it. For a long time he studied it, perplexed. The existence of a majority logically implies a corresponding minority. The bus had entered the vast slum region, the tumbled miles of cheap hotels and broken-down tenements that had sprung up after the mass destruction of the war.
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