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Norton, Andre, 1912-2005

"The Time Traders"

Hope had given him a flash of
false strength, the impetus to move, and he must make the most of that
gift.
His path ended at a wide ladder, coiling in slow curves into gloom below
and shadows above. He sensed that he was in a building of some size. He
was afraid to go down, for even looking in that direction almost
finished his sense of balance, so he climbed up.
Step by step, Ross made that painful journey, passing levels from which
three or four hallways ran out like the radii of a spider's web. He was
close to the end of his endurance when he heard a sound, echoed,
magnified, from below. It was someone moving. He dragged his body into
the fourth level where the light was very faint, hoping to crawl far
enough into one of the passages to remain unseen from the stair. But he
had gone only part-way down his chosen road when he collapsed, panting,
and fell back against the wall. His hands pawed vainly against that
sleek surface. He was falling through it!
Ross had a second, perhaps two, of stupefied wonder.


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