United States or Guinea ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Alan and I found ourselves backed together, panting in the small confines of a circular cubby with an arching dome close over us. At our feet the platform with the microscope over it hardly reached our boot tops. There was a sudden silence, broken only by our heavy breathing. The tiny forms of humans strewn around us were all motionless. The others had fled. Then we heard a small voice. "Here!
High up on one side, in an Olympian seclusion, away from the noise and the strife, sits a Board, calm as fate, and panoplied in the responsibility of chance, whose function seems to be that of switch-shifters in their windowed cubby at a network of railway intersections to prevent collisions.
It is a mere cubby hole, and was evidently located for the area of cultivable land which lies before it, and which it almost completely commands. The cavity is about 12 feet above the ground and appears to have been divided by cross walls into three rooms, two of which were quite small.
I fired my paralyzing cylinder through my cloak. Got him! He fell. I shoved Anita violently. "Run! Tell Miko to come tell him you heard a shout. He won't suspect you!" "But, Gregg " "You mustn't be found out. You're our only hope, Anita! I'll hide, fix the cloak, or get back to my cubby. We'll try again." It decided her. She scurried down the corridor. I whirled the other way.
While they were quarrelling in this way, getting warmer and more angry all the time, and losing those very tempers which they had said they would always keep, a young Jersey had stepped into the cubby beside the Black Calf, and they were having a pleasant visit. "What are those fellows fighting about?" he asked. The Black Calf smiled a funny little smile.
The four foot space up here between the cubby roof and the overhead dome, went black. We were momentarily concealed. Anita located the manual levers of the lock-entrance. "Here, Gregg." I shoved at them. Fear leaped in me that they would not operate. But they swung. The tiny port opened wide to receive us.
Following our custom we had been living in a nullah, but the first rain of the season took us by surprise on 25th October, and the dry bed became a stream and all the little cubby holes became full of water; the lightning was amazingly brilliant and the roar of the thunder made the bombardment sound tame in comparison. There was not a soul in the Battalion but was soaked to the skin.
When Bull came to he was lying on his cot in his little cubby hole adjoining the back room of the Starlight. Over across from the bed Doc Coffin was looking out of the grimy window. Behind the closed door giving egress to the back room certain folk were busy at faro. "King win, ten lose," the dealer was saying. Doc Coffin turned at the rustle of Bull's slight movement. Doc nodded grimly.
Never fear, little Anita." "With you to lead us, I'm sure we will." A man entered the cubby. Potan looked frowningly around. "What is it, Argle?" The fellow answered in Martian, leered at Anita and withdrew. Potan stood up. I noticed that he was unsteady with the drink. "They want me with the work at the projectors." "Go ahead," I said. He nodded. We were comrades now. "Amuse yourself, Haljan.
That note in his superior's voice was like a whip lash much worse to take than the abuse of a lesser man. He swallowed as he shut himself into his own cramped cubby. This might be the end of their venture. And they would be lucky if their charter was not withdrawn.
Word Of The Day