I was shushed again. We went on through the corridors. Dead oyster
white corridors. I walked as through a sea of marshmallow. Time sense
was gone again and we were pushing on and on and there was no end in
sight and we had already forgotten the beginning.
We took an automatic shaft to another level and walked more corridors.
* * * * *
Once we passed an opening and tunnelcars filled with people roared
past. I had a flash glimpse of them. They sat there staring straight
ahead, wearing the efficient expressions of good workers. State corpses.
Suddenly we emerged into the dark. It was the dark of night, but after
the tunnels it was practically sunrise. The air was clean--no, it was
not actually as clean as the conditioned air below. It was more than
clean. It was _alive_.
We were on the edge of a great concrete paved area. About a hundred
yards ahead, a massive, shining, fat needle rose into the air, and
squatted there against the stars. It was a spaceship in its launching
cradle. There were low buildings near it, a few floodlights, and people
standing around. It took a moment to realize that the men walking up
and down and along the groups of people, the men with rifles on their
shoulders, were guards.
"Luck, now, that's all we need. A little luck," said the thin man
beside me. It was the first time I had heard his voice. It was a low
voice; he spoke with emotion. It was not approved standard.
The woman moved beside him and put her hand upon his arm.