
Ellie took her place at the slot, and saw a great bulbous street-filling machine pull to a halt a block from the building. Insectoid creatures that might be robots or might be men in body armor poured out of it, and swarmed down the street, examining every door. The sirens and the loudspeakers cut off. The streetlights returned to normal. "It’s time we left," Ellie said.
An enormous artificial voice shook the building. Akbang! Akbang! Zawzawksbild! Alzowt!
Zawzawksbild! Akbang!
"Quickly!"
She seized Nadine’s hand, and they were running.
Without emotion, the grey folk turned from their prior courses and unhurriedly made for the exits.
Ellie and Nadine tried to stay off the walkways entirely. But the air began to tingle, more on the side away from the walkways than the side toward, and then to burn and then to sting. They were quickly forced between the yellow lines. At first they were able to push their way past the drones, and then to shoulder their way through their numbers. But more and more came dead-stepping their way down the metal stairways. More and more descended from the upper levels via lifts that abruptly descended from the ceiling to disgorge them by the hundreds. More and more flowed outward from the building’s dim interior.
Passage against the current of flesh became first difficult, and then impossible. They were swept backward, helpless as corks in a rain-swollen river. Outward they were forced and through the exit into the street.
The "police" were waiting there.
At the sight of Ellie and Nadine–they could not have been difficult to discern among the uniform drabness of the others–two of the armored figures stepped forward with long poles and brought them down on the women.
Ellie raised her arm to block the pole, and it landed solidly on her wrist.
Horrid, searing pain shot through her, greater than anything she had ever experienced before. For a giddy instant, Ellie felt a strange elevated sense of being, and she thought, If I can put up with this, I can endure anything. Then the world went away.
