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Updated: May 8, 2025
And we'd have to go up a ladder, and out a manhole, to get out of the conveyor tunnel. What sorta shape's Mr. Pelton in?" "He's under hypnotaine, completely unconscious," Prestonby said. "Then we'd have to drag him," Yetsko said. "Strap him up in a tarp, or load him into a sleeping bag, if we can get hold of one." "There are plenty, down in the warehouse," Latterman interrupted, joining them.
Yetsko shook his head. "No, Ray; the captain told me I was to stick with you. I'll go along with you. And we better take another of these kids, for a runner, in case we have to send word back." "Ramon, you come with us," Ray said. "The rest of you, stay here for five minutes, and then, if you don't hear from us, follow us." "Mason, you take over," Yetsko told the guards corporal.
The guard with the key unlocked the door, and he and Yetsko went through, into an utterly silent sound-proofed room, and from it into an inner, noisy, room, where a recorded voice was chanting: "Hat huh-ah-tuh. H-a-t. Box buh-oh-ksss. B-o-x. Gun guh-uh-nnn. G-u-n. Girl guh-ih-rrr-lll," while pictures were flashed on a screen at the front, and words appeared under them.
That's why I said we'd have to bring bullet guns; down where we're going, we'd gas ourselves with gas guns, and if we used sono guns, we'd knock ourselves out with the echo." "You know, Ray, you'll make a real storm trooper," Yetsko said. "If you manage to stay alive for another ten years, you'll be almost as good a storm troop captain as Captain Prestonby."
Prestonby took the thick-barreled gas pistol from the shelf under the lectern and shoved it into his hip pocket; Yetsko picked up a two-and-a-half foot length of rubber hose and tucked it under his left arm. Together, they went back through the wings and out into the hallway that led to the office.
Normally, there should be things moving constantly in both directions big wire baskets full of parcels for delivery, and trash containers, going out, and bales and crates and cases of merchandise, and empty delivery baskets and trash containers coming in. He pointed this out to Yetsko. "Sure," the big Literates' guards sergeant nodded.
I didn't notice any of them falling down, so I suppose you didn't see anything out of line." "Well, the hall monitors make them turn in their little playthings at the doors," Yetsko said, "but hall monitors can be gotten at, and some of the stuff they make in Manual Training, when nobody's watching them " Prestonby nodded.
Yetsko took the list and looked at it. Like most Literates' guards, he could read, after a fashion. He recognized the names; the boys were all members of the top floor secret society. He went out and gave the list to Martha Collins.
The trip out through the conduit was not so difficult, even with the encumbrance of the unconscious Chester Pelton, but Prestonby was convinced that, except for the giant strength of Doug Yetsko, it would have been nearly impossible. Ray Pelton, recovered from his after-battle nausea and steeled by responsibility, went first. Cardon crawled after him, followed by a couple of the boys.
He and Yetsko sampled the products of the Cooking School, intended for the cafeteria, and found them edible if uninspired. Business classes in recording letters, using Illiterate business-machines, preparing Illiterate cards for same, filing recordings always with the counsel, "When in doubt, consult a Literate."
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