The Moving Ways
:
When The Sleeper Wakes
He went to the railings of the balcony and stared upward. An exclamation
of surprise at his appearance, and the movements of a number of people
came from the spacious area below.
His first impression was of overwhelming architecture. The place into
which he looked was an aisle of Titanic buildings, curving spaciously in
either direction. Overhead mighty cantilevers sprang together across the
huge w
dth of the place, and a tracery of translucent material shut out
the sky. Gigantic globes of cool white light shamed the pale sunbeams
that filtered down through the girders and wires. Here and there a
gossamer suspension bridge dotted with foot passengers flung across the
chasm and the air was webbed with slender cables. A cliff of edifice
hung above him, he perceived as he glanced upward, and the opposite
facade was grey and dim and broken by great archings, circular
perforations, balconies, buttresses, turret projections, myriads of vast
windows, and an intricate scheme of architectural relief. Athwart these
ran inscriptions horizontally and obliquely in an unfamiliar lettering.
Here and there close to the roof cables of a peculiar stoutness were
fastened, and drooped in a steep curve to circular openings on the
opposite side of the space, and even as Graham noted these a remote
and tiny figure of a man clad in pale blue arrested his attention.
This little figure was far overhead across the space beside the higher
fastening of one of these festoons, hanging forward from a little ledge
of masonry and handling some well-nigh invisible strings dependent from
the line. Then suddenly, with a swoop that sent Graham's heart into his
mouth, this man had rushed down the curve and vanished through a round
opening on the hither side of the way. Graham had been looking up as he
came out upon the balcony, and the things he saw above and opposed to
him had at first seized his attention to the exclusion of anything else.
Then suddenly he discovered the roadway! It was not a roadway at all,
as Graham understood such things, for in the nineteenth century the
only roads and streets were beaten tracks of motionless earth, jostling
rivulets of vehicles between narrow footways. But this roadway was three
hundred feet across, and it moved; it moved, all save the middle,
the lowest part. For a moment, the motion dazzled his mind. Then he
understood.
Under the balcony this extraordinary roadway ran swiftly to Graham's
right, an endless flow rushing along as fast as a nineteenth century
express train, an endless platform of narrow transverse overlapping
slats with little interspaces that permitted it to follow the curvatures
of the street. Upon it were seats, and here and there little kiosks,
but they swept by too swiftly for him to see what might be therein. From
this nearest and swiftest platform a series of others descended to the
centre of the space. Each moved to the right, each perceptibly slower
than the one above it, but the difference in pace was small enough to
permit anyone to step from any platform to the one adjacent, and so walk
uninterruptedly from the swiftest to the motionless middle way. Beyond
this middle way was another series of endless platforms rushing with
varying pace to Graham's left. And seated in crowds upon the two widest
and swiftest platforms, or stepping from one to another down the steps,
or swarming over the central space, was an innumerable and wonderfully
diversified multitude of people.
"You must not stop here," shouted Howard suddenly at his side. "You must
come away at once."
Graham made no answer. He heard without hearing. The platforms ran with
a roar and the people were shouting. He perceived women and girls
with flowing hair, beautifully robed, with bands crossing between the
breasts. These first came out of the confusion. Then he perceived that
the dominant note in that kaleidoscope of costume was the pale blue that
the tailor's boy had worn. He became aware of cries of "The Sleeper.
What has happened to the Sleeper?" and it seemed as though the rushing
platforms before him were suddenly spattered with the pale buff of
human faces, and then still more thickly. He saw pointing fingers. He
perceived that the motionless central area of this huge arcade just
opposite to the balcony was densely crowded with blue-clad people. Some
sort of struggle had sprung into life. People seemed to be pushed up the
running platforms on either side, and carried away against their will.
They would spring off so soon as they were beyond the thick of the
confusion, and run back towards the conflict.
"It is the Sleeper. Verily it is the Sleeper," shouted voices. "That is
never the Sleeper," shouted others. More and more faces were turned to
him. At the intervals along this central area Graham noted openings,
pits, apparently the heads of staircases going down with people
ascending out of them and descending into them. The struggle it seemed
centred about the one of these nearest to him. People were running
down the moving platforms to this, leaping dexterously from platform to
platform. The clustering people on the higher platforms seemed to divide
their interest between this point and the balcony. A number of sturdy
little figures clad in a uniform of bright red, and working methodically
together, were employed it seemed in preventing access to this
descending staircase. About them a crowd was rapidly accumulating.
Their brilliant colour contrasted vividly with the whitish-blue of their
antagonists, for the struggle was indisputable.
He saw these things with Howard shouting in his ear and shaking his arm.
And then suddenly Howard was gone and he stood alone.
He perceived that the cries of "The Sleeper" grew in volume, and that
the people on the nearer platform were standing up. The nearer swifter
platform he perceived was empty to the right of him, and far across the
space the platform running in the opposite direction was coming crowded
and passing away bare. With incredible swiftness a vast crowd had
gathered in the central space before his eyes; a dense swaying mass
of people, and the shouts grew from a fitful crying to a voluminous
incessant clamour: "The Sleeper! The Sleeper!" and yells and cheers, a
waving of garments and cries of "Stop the ways!" They were also crying
another name strange to Graham. It sounded like "Ostrog." The slower
platforms were soon thick with active people, running against the
movement so as to keep themselves opposite to him.
"Stop the ways," they cried. Agile figures ran up swiftly from the
centre to the swift road nearest to him, were borne rapidly past him,
shouting strange, unintelligible things, and ran back obliquely to the
central way. One thing he distinguished: "It is indeed the Sleeper. It
is indeed the Sleeper," they testified.
For a space Graham stood without a movement. Then he became vividly
aware that all this concerned him. He was pleased at his wonderful
popularity, he bowed, and, seeking a gesture of longer range, waved his
arm. He was astonished at the violence of uproar that this provoked. The
tumult about the descending stairway rose to furious violence. He
became aware of crowded balconies, of men sliding along ropes, of men
in trapeze-like seats hurling athwart the space. He heard voices behind
him, a number of people descending the steps through the archway; he
suddenly perceived that his guardian Howard was back again and gripping
his arm painfully, and shouting inaudibly in his ear.
He turned, and Howard's face was white. "Come back," he heard. "They
will stop the ways. The whole city will be in confusion."
He perceived a number of men hurrying along the passage of blue pillars
behind Howard, the red-haired man, the man with the flaxen beard, a tall
man in vivid vermilion, a crowd of others in red carrying staves, and
all these people had anxious eager faces.
"Get him away," cried Howard.
"But why?" said Graham. "I don't see--"
"You must come away!" said the man in red in a resolute voice. His face
and eyes were resolute, too. Graham's glances went from face to face,
and he was suddenly aware of that most disagreeable flavour in life,
compulsion. Some one gripped his arm.... He was being dragged away. It
seemed as though the tumult suddenly became two, as if half the shouts
that had come in from this wonderful roadway had sprung into the
passages of the great building behind him. Marvelling and confused,
feeling an impotent desire to resist, Graham was half led, half thrust,
along the passage of blue pillars, and suddenly he found himself alone
with Howard in a lift and moving swiftly upward.