Gray Denim

Gray Denim

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Beneath the huge central arch in Cooper Square a meeting was in progress-a gathering of the gray-clad workers of the lower levels of New York. Less than two hundred of their number were in evidence, and these huddled in dejected groups around the pedestal from which a fiery-tongued orator was addressing them. Lounging negligently at the edge of the small crowd were a dozen of the red police.qI tell you, comrades, q the speaker was shouting, qthe time has come when we must revolt. We must battle to the death with the wearers of the purple. Why work out our lives down here so they can live in the lap of luxury over our heads? Why labor day after day at the oxygen generators to give them the fresh air they breathe?qThe speaker paused uncertainly as a chorus of raucous laughter came to his ears. He glared belligerently at a group of newcomers who stood aloof from his own gathering. Seven or eight of them there were, and they wore the gray with obvious discomfort. Slummers! Well, they'd hear something they could carry back with them when they returned to their homes!qWhy, q he continued in rising tones, qdo we sit at the controls of the pneumatic tubes which carry thousands of our fellows to tasks equally irksome, while they of the purple ride their air yachts to the pleasure cities of the sky lanes? Never in the history of mankind have the poor been poorer and the rich richer!qqYah!q shouted a disrespectful voice from among the newcomers. qYou're full o' bunk! Nothing but bunk!qAn ominous murmur swelled from the crowd and the red police roused from their lethargy. The mounting scream of a siren echoed in the vaulted recesses above and re-echoed from the surrounding columns-the call for reserves.... heat-ray. His instructions in its operation had been simple. ... The pilot pressed a button and the electronic motors started. A burst ... He pressed his face to the eye-piece of his sight, his finger on the release lever of the ray. .... A cooling breeze whistled from the opened ports, a breeze that smelled of the sea. ... A landing would be easy, for had not the voice instructed him in the use of the gravity-energy?

Title:Gray Denim
Author:Harl Vincent
Publisher:eStar Books - 2010-09-25


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