Aeronautics -- Fiction; Cities and towns -- Fiction; Science fiction; War stories
And as they uttered that tremendous cry, as the swaying city flashed
downward, their struggle at the door forgotten in that awful moment of
doom, I was aware subconsciously that I was staggering with Connell and
Hilliard and our remaining men, up the narrow stair. Up to the great
tower's second level and to its windows, beside which hung our cruisers
with Macklin and a skeleton crew, holding them there beside the tower
even as the great city whirled with awful speed downward! Then we
jumped through those windows into the cruisers. And the next moment,
just as the cruisers with ourselves inside them drove upward like light
from the falling city, Berlin had crashed into the earth just beneath
us, with a terrific, annihilating shock that buckled it, broke it, made
of it but a great twisted mass of rended metal!
Then we were driving up toward the half-hundred remaining American
air-cities that hung still high above, the giant city of New York still
at their center. Up until we had soared above those cities and they lay
beneath us, giant circles of brilliant light, scarred here and there
with countless craters of fused metal! Their great crowds of peoples
had surged, now, from their towers, out into their squares and streets.
They gazed as if incredulously stunned by their deliverance, at the
empty air and night about them, where so shortly before had hung the
enemy that had been sending them to doom. In that moment, as we hung
there high over them, in that moment of incredible surprise and dawning
joy, it seemed that all the world was silent after the terrific thunder
of that wild rushing battle that had riven earth and sky so short a
time before. It was as though the night, and the winds about us, and
the white stars overhead, were as silent with astonishment in that
moment as the crowds on the cities that hung around and beneath us.
Then suddenly, from those cities, there was coming up toward us as
though from a single voice a single, mighty cry!
Dawnward
At dawn of the next day our half-hundred great air-cities prepared
to separate, to move back to those positions that had been theirs
before danger had brought them together. Through all of that night
they had hung there together, their streets crowded with weeping yet
rejoicing crowds; and, now that the dawn showed them the green plains
far beneath, they were beginning to depart. And we five, sitting there
within the periscopic screens in the power-tower of New York, were
watching them as they prepared to go.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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