The Dark Door | Page 8

windows around the ceiling of the room, pale,
ghostly squares of light.
He pulled the chair over to the windows, peered out through the
cobwebbed openings to the corridor beyond.
It was not the same hallway as before, but an old, dirty building
corridor, incredibly aged, with bricks sagging away from the walls. At
the end he could see stairs, and even the faintest hint of sunlight
coming from above.
Wildly, he tore at the masonry of the window, chipping away at the
soggy mortar with his fingers until he could squeeze through the
opening. He fell to the floor of the corridor outside.
It was much colder and the silence was no longer so intense. He
seemed to feel, rather than hear, the surging power, the rumble of many
machines, the little, almost palpable vibrations from far above him.
He started in a dead run down the musty corridor to the stairs and
began to climb them, almost stumbling over himself in his eagerness.
After several flights, the brick walls gave way to cleaner plastic, and
suddenly a brightly lighted corridor stretched before him.
Panting from the climb, Harry ran down the corridor to the end,

wrenched open a door, and looked out anxiously.
He was almost stunned by the bright light. At first he couldn't orient
himself as he stared down at the metal ramp, the moving strips of
glowing metal carrying the throngs of people, sliding along the
thoroughfare before him, unaware of him watching, unaware of any
change from the usual. The towering buildings before him rose to
unbelievable heights, bathed in ever-changing rainbow colors, and he
felt his pulse thumping in his temples as he gaped.
He was in the New City, of that there was no doubt. This was the part
of the great metropolis which had been built again since the devastating
war that had nearly wiped the city from the Earth a decade before.
These were the moving streets, the beautiful residential apartments,
following the modern neo-functional patterns and participational design
which had completely altered the pattern of city living. The Old City
still remained, of course--the slums, the tenements, the skid-rows of the
metropolis--but this was the teeming heart of the city, a new home for
men to live in.
And this was the stronghold where the not-men could be found, too.
The thought cut through Harry's mind, sending a tremor up his spine.
He had found them here; he had uncovered his first clues here, and
discovered them; and even now his mind was filled with the horrible,
paralyzing fear he had felt that first night when he had made the
discovery. Yet he knew now that he dared not go back where he had
come from.
At least he could understand why the not-men might have feared and
persecuted him, but he could not understand the horrible assault that Dr.
Webber had unleashed. And somehow he found Dr. Webber's attack
infinitely more frightening.
He seemed to be safe here, though, at least for the moment.
Quickly he moved down onto the nearest moving sidewalk heading
toward the living section of the New City. He knew where he could go
there, where he could lock himself in, a place where he could think,

possibly find a way to fight off Dr. Webber's attack of nightmares.
He settled back on a bench on the moving sidewalk, watching the city
slide past him for several minutes before he noticed the curious
shadow-form which seemed to whisk out of his field of vision every
time he looked.
They were following him again! He looked around wildly as the
sidewalk moved swiftly through the cool evening air. Far above, he
could see the shimmering, iridescent screen that still stood to protect
the New City from the devastating virus attacks which might again
strike down from the skies without warning. Far ahead he could see the
magnificent "bridge" formed by the sidewalk crossing over to the
apartment area, where the thousands who worked in the New City were
returning to their homes.
Someone was still following him.
Presently he heard the sound, so close to his ear he jumped, yet so
small he could hardly identify it as a human voice. "What was it you
found, Harry? What did you discover? Better tell, better tell."
He saw the rift in the moving sidewalk coming, far ahead, a great,
gaping rent in the metal fabric of the swiftly moving escalator, as if a
huge blade were slicing it down the middle. Harry's hand went to his
mouth, choking back a scream as the hole moved with incredible
rapidity down the center of the strip, swallowing up whole rows of the
seats, moving straight toward his own.
He glanced in fright over the side just as the sidewalk moved