A young man in faded blue garments came vaulting over the seats. "Hullo!"
he said, with his flying feet within six inches of the crouching
Sleeper's face.

He stared without any sign of recognition, turned to fire, fired, and
shouting, "To hell with the Council!" was about to fire again. Then it
seemed to Graham that the half of this man's neck had vanished. A drop of
moisture fell on Graham's cheek. The green weapon stopped half raised.
For a moment the man stood still with his face suddenly expressionless,
then he began to slant forward. His knees bent. Man and darkness fell
together. At the sound of his fall Graham rose up and ran for his life
until a step down to the gangway tripped him. He scrambled to his feet,
turned up the gangway and ran on.

When the sixth star glared he was already close to the yawning throat of
a passage. He ran on the swifter for the light, entered the passage and
turned a corner into absolute night again. He was knocked sideways,
rolled over, and recovered his feet. He found himself one of a crowd of
invisible fugitives pressing in one direction. His one thought now was
their thought also; to escape out of this fighting. He thrust and struck,
staggered, ran, was wedged tightly, lost ground and then was clear again.

For some minutes he was running through the darkness along a winding
passage, and then he crossed some wide and open space, passed down a long
incline, and came at last down a flight of steps to a level place. Many
people were shouting, "They are coming! The guards are coming. They are
firing. Get out of the fighting. The guards are firing. It will be safe
in Seventh Way. Along here to Seventh Way!" There were women and children
in the crowd as well as men.