 Who seems to have the least to hide in the text?
Printed in U.S.A. THE CITY THAT RAN OFF THE MAP Radio messages stated simply that Superior had seceded from Earth. Communicating by radiophone across the vast pit, they confirmed that the town undoubtedly was missing. A National Guard officer volunteered to take a jeep down into the pit, having found a spot that seemed navigable. The Pentagon and the Atomic Energy Commission denied that they had been conducting secret experiments. The object loomed out of a cloudbank at twelve thousand feet and Studley changed course to avoid it. A few minutes later he had relayed a message from Superior, formerly of Ohio, addressed to whom it might concern: It said that Superior had seceded from Earth. One other radio message came from Superior, now airborne, on that first day. When Don had entered the club car he'd seen her hatless head from above and noticed that the hair along the part was dark. If the girl had given Don Cort more than that one glance, or if it had been a trained, all-encompassing glance, she would have seen a man in his mid-twenties—about her age—lean, tall and straight-shouldered, with once-blond hair now verging on dark brown, a face neither handsome nor ugly, and a habit of drawing the inside of his left cheek between his teeth and nibbling at it thoughtfully. But it was likely that all she noticed then was the brief case he carried, attached by a chain to a handcuff on his left wrist. The handcuff it was attached to was one reason why his interest in the redhead had been only passing. Don made his way up to the locomotive and found a bigger knot of people gathered in front of the cowcatcher. There were red lanterns, both battery and electric; flashlights; road flares; and even an old red shirt. "Something even Columbus couldn't find. True, everything seemed to stop, and they could see stars shining low on the horizon where stars could not properly be expected to be seen. Don Cort and the fireman walked cautiously toward the edge while the professor ambled ahead with the familiarity of one who had been there before. Nevertheless, Don could see that it apparently was a neat, sharp edge, not one of your old ragged, random edges such as might have been caused by an explosion. He didn't have to stand on tiptoe any more than he had to sit on the edge of his seat during the exciting part of a movie, but the situation seemed to call for it. Well, Professor Garet telephoned and said, 'Hector'—that's my name,
 Ed Clark
 Don Cort  Jen Jervis  Ed Clark  Mayor Civek