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Even aside from everything else, it'd be a good idea to have somebody there who can read and dares admit it, till a new crew of Literates can get there. You were speaking about the possibility of kidnaping; how about the boy? Ray?" Prestonby nodded. "I'll have him come here to my office, and stay there till I get back; I'll have Yetsko stay with him."
Within a matter of thirty seconds, they began to flee, and a wave of Literates' Guards, in their futuristic "space cadet" uniforms, came pouring in after them. Douglass MacArthur Yetsko put the burp gun back together again, tried the action, and laid it aside with a sigh.
If Chester Pelton got out of this mess alive and won the election tomorrow, there was going to have to be a purge in the Radical-Socialist party, and something was going to have to be done about the Consolidated Organization of Illiterates. He turned to Yetsko. "You and your gang got here just in the nick of time," he said. "How did you get into the store?"
Ray Pelton and Doug Yetsko had their heads out an open window on the right side of the cab of the 'copter truck; Ray was pointing down. "That roof, over there, looks like a good place to land," he said. "We can get down the fire escape, and the hatch to the conveyor belt is only half a block away." Yetsko nodded.
We take you now to downtown Manhattan, where our portable units and commentators have just arrived, and switch you to Ed Morgan." The screen went black, and Yetsko swore angrily. Ray lifted his head quickly from his book and reached for the sono pistol Yetsko had given him. "Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, and just a moment, until we can give you the picture.
"Wantta bet one of those little cherubs doesn't try to scalp another before the day's out?" Yetsko whispered. Prestonby shook his head. "No bet. Remember that film on the Spanish Inquisition, that we had to discontinue?" It was then that the light on the classroom screen, which had been flickering green and white, suddenly began flashing Prestonby's wanted-at-office signal.
You do just that, because I'm going to help Claire and the senator. That's who that goon gang's after." Yetsko considered the proposition for a moment, horrified. Why, this was the captain's girl's kid brother; if anything happened to him His mind refused to contemplate what the captain would do to him. "No. You gotta stay here, Ray," he said. "The captain " Then his eye caught the screen.
Ray was able to turn about and get his feet in front of him; Yetsko had to crawl on until he had passed it, and then back into it after Ray had entered. Bracing one foot on either side, Ray inched his way down the forty-degree slope, hoping that the two hundred pound weight of Doug Yetsko wouldn't start sliding upon him. Ahead, he could hear voices.
Whoever had cut it had gone, either forward or back away from the store. A little farther on, the sound of shots ahead became audible over the clanking and rattling of the conveyor belts. "Well, I guess this is where we start crawling," Yetsko said. "Your father's people seem to be holding the store basement against a gang in the conveyor tunnel."
"... Seems to have been quite a number of heavy 'copters just landed on the east stage, filled with more goons, probably to re-enforce the gang back of that barricade. The firing's gotten noticeably heavier " Yetsko had turned from the screen, and was pawing in the arms locker. For a job like this, he'd need firepower.