the row of tiny 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
the