we had some of our people at the store, in plain clothes,"
Slater said. "Just in case of trouble. On Mr. L.'s orders. They
reported a riot starting, but naturally, their reports were
incomplete. Can you get one of your landing stages cleared for us? We
have two hundred men, in twenty 'copters." Then he must have noticed
some of the store Illiterates back of Prestonby, and realized that
this offer of help to Literacy's worst enemy would arouse suspicion.
"Not that we care what happens to Chester Pelton, but we have to
protect our own people at the store."

"Yes, of course," Prestonby agreed. "Come in on our north stage.
You'll probably find a fight going on on our twelfth floor, just
inside. Anybody who's trying to get up the escalators to the office
block will be an enemy."

"Right. We're halfway there now." The Literates' Guards officer broke
the connection.

"You heard that?" he asked, turning to the others in the office. "If
we can hold out till they get here, we're all right. Did you contact
Radical-Socialist headquarters, yet, Hutschnecker?"

"Yes. I talked to a fellow named Yingling. He said that all the party
storm troops had been lured out to some kind of a disturbance in North
Jersey Borough; he'd try to get them recalled."

Prestonby swore bitterly. "By the time his own party-goons get here,
the Literates' Guards and Macy & Gimbel's will have pulled Pelton's
bacon off the fire for him. Nice friends he has!"

An alarm buzzer went off suddenly, and an urgent voice came out of the
box on the wall:

"Here come the goons! South escalator!"

Prestonby grabbed a burp gun and a canvas musette bag full of clips.
By the time he had gotten down to what, in deference to the
superstitions of the Illiterate store force, was known as the
fourteenth floor, an attack on the north escalator had developed as
well. In both cases, the attackers seemed to expect no organized
resistance. They simply jumped onto the escalators, adding their own
running speed, and came rushing up, firing pistols ahead of them at
random.

The defenders, however, had been ready: the fire hoses caught those in
the lead and hurled them back. Some of them vaulted the barrier
between the ascending and descending spirals and let themselves be
carried down again. Less than five minutes after the buzzer had
sounded the warning, the attack stopped. The noise on the twelfth
floor increased, however, and, leaning over into the escalator-way,
Preston