Code Three | Page 3

back onto another thruway.
During the coming patrol they would cross ten state lines as if they didn't exist. And as
far as thruway traffic control and authority was concerned, state and national boundaries
actually didn't exist. With the growth of the old interstate highway system and the Alcan
Highway it became increasingly evident that variation in motor vehicle laws from state to
state and country to country were creating impossible situations for any uniform safety
control.
* * * * *
With the establishment of the Continental Thruway System two decades later, came the
birth of the supra-cop--The North American Thruway Patrol, known as NorCon. Within
the five-mile bands of the thruways--all federally-owned land by each of the three
nations--the blue-coveralled "Continental Commandos" of NorCon were the sole law
enforcement agency and authority. Violators of thruway law were cited into NorCon
district traffic courts located in the nearest city to each access port along every thruway.
There was no challenge to the authority of NorCon. Public demand for faster and more
powerful vehicles had forced the automotive industry to put more and more power under
the touch of the ever-growing millions of drivers crowding the continent's roads. Piston
drive gave way to turbojet; turbojet was boosted by a modification of ram jet and
air-cushion drive was added. In the last two years, the first of the nuclear reaction mass
engines had hit the roads. Even as the hot Ferraris and Jags of the mid-'60s would have
been suicide vehicles on the T-model roads of the '20s so would today's vehicles be on
the interstates of the '60s. But building roads capable of handling three hundred to four
hundred miles an hour speeds was beyond the financial and engineering capabilities of
individual states and nations. Thus grew the continental thruways with their four speed
lanes in each direction, each a half-mile wide separated east and west and north and south
by a half-mile-wide landscaped divider. Under the Three Nation Compact, the thruways
now wove a net across the entire North American continent.
On the big wall map, NAT 26-west showed as four colored lines; blue and yellow as the
two high and ultra-high speed lanes; green and white for the intermediate and slow lanes.
Between the blue and yellow and the white and green was a red band. This was the police
emergency lane, never used by other than official vehicles and crossed by the traveling
public shifting from one speed lane to another only at sweeping crossovers.

The dispatcher picked up an electric pointer and aimed the light beam at the map.
Referring to his notes, he began to recite.
"Resurfacing crews working on 26-W blue at milestone Marker 185 to Marker 187,
estimated clearance 0300 hours Tuesday--Let's see, that's tomorrow morning."
The two officers were writing the information down on their trip-analysis sheets.
"Ohio State is playing Cal under the lights at Columbus tonight so you can expect a
traffic surge sometime shortly after 2300 hours but most of it will stay in the green and
white. Watch out for the drunks though. They might filter out onto the blue or yellow.
"The crossover for NAT 163 has painting crews working. Might watch out for any crud
on the roadway. And they've got the entrance blocked there so that all 163 exchange
traffic is being rerouted to 164 west of Chillicothe."
The dispatcher thumbed through his reference sheets. "That seems to be about all. No,
wait a minute. This is on your trick. The Army's got a priority missile convoy moving out
of the Aberdeen Proving Grounds bound for the west coast tonight at 1800 hours. It will
be moving at green lane speeds so you might watch out for it. They'll have thirty-four
units in the convoy. And that is all. Oh, yes. Kelly's already aboard. I guess you know
about the weather."
Martin nodded. "Yup. We should be hitting light snows by 2300 hours tonight in this area
and it could be anything from snow to ice-rain after that." He grinned at his younger
partner. "The vacation is over, sonny. Tonight we make a man out of you."
Ferguson grinned back. "Nuts to you, pop. I've got character witnesses back in Edmonton
who'll give you glowing testimonials about my manhood."
"Testimonials aren't legal unless they're given by adults," Martin retorted. "Come on,
lover boy. Duty calls."
Clay carefully embraced his armload of bundles and the two officers turned to leave. The
dispatcher leaned across the counter.
"Oh, Ferguson, one thing I forgot. There's some light corrugations in red lane just east of
St. Louis. You might be careful with your souffles in that area. Wouldn't want them to
fall, you know."
Clay paused and started to turn back. The grinning dispatcher ducked into the back office
and