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The Sleeper Awakes

Chapter 6 The Hall Of The Atlas

Word Count: 2937    |    Released on: 18/11/2017

of his vast interval of sleep hung about him, as yet the initial strangeness of his being alive at all in this remote age touched everything with wonder, with

ad a spectacular turn, like a thing witnessed from the box of a theatre. "I don't understand," he

m's enquiry. "This is a time of unrest. And, in fact, your

n not quite sure of his bre

derstand,"

learer later,

d, as though he found the

puzzled. "It will be--it is bound to be perplexing. At present it is all so strange. Anythi

but very long passage between high walls, along which

said Graham. "Is it all one

ays for various public ser

the great roadway place? How are yo

l," sai

ver

t fou

t under

you. To tell you the truth, I don't understand it myself very clearly. N

Howard and the halting answers he made, and then he would lose the thread in response to some vivid unexpected impression. Along the passages, in the halls, half the people seemed to be men

ancied a voice proceeded. The girls regarded him and his conductor, he thought, with curiosity and astonishment. But he was hurried on before he could form a clear idea of the gathering. He

ankles of people going to and fro thereon, but no more of them. Then vague impressions of galleries and

en his speed. Presently he was in a lift that had a window upon the great street space, but this was glazed and did not open, and they were

that they must be near four hundred feet above the moving ways. He stopped, looked down between his legs upon the swarming blue and red multitudes, minute and foreshortened, struggling and gesticulating still towards the little balcony far below, a little toy balcony, it seemed, where he had so recently been standing. A thin haze and the glare of

wer ways towards the dense struggling crowd on the central area. These men in red appeared to be armed with sticks or truncheons; they seemed to be striki

of cables and girders, dim rhythmically passing forms like the vanes of windmills, and between them glimpses of a remote and pallid

e of that," cried

his way. You must go this way." And the men in red

sliding shutter that had seemed a door to Graham, and led the way through it. Graham found himself in a gallery overhangin

a large and imposing doorway at the top of a flight of steps, heavily curtained but giving a glimpse of some still larg

is ante-chamber, and then he found himself on an iron-railed gallery of metal that passed round the side of the great hall he had already seen through the curtains. He entered the place

st thing to strike his attention, it was so vast, so patiently and painfully real, so white and simple. Save for this figure and for a dais in the centre, the wide floor of the place was a shining vacancy. The dais was remote in the greatness of the area; it would have looked a mere slab of metal had it not been f

ghty labouring figure. Then he stopped. The two men in red who had fo

for a few moments," and, without waiting f

y_--?" be

path obstructed by one of the men in red. "Yo

Wh

rs, S

e ord

rders,

ked his ex

" he said presently.

lords of the C

Coun

_ Cou

t the other man, went to the railing and stared at the distan

enly floated into view. What council could it be that gathered there, that little body of men beneath the significant white Atlas, secluded from every eavesdropper in this impressive spaciousness? And why should he be brought to them, and be looked at strangely and spoken of inaud

The gesticulation of two of the speakers became animated. He glanced from them to the passive faces of his attendants.... When he looked again Howard

els were grouped in a great and elaborate framing of dark metal, which passed into the metallic caryatidae of the galleries, and the great structural lines of the interior. The facile grace of these panels enhanced the mighty white effort that laboured in the centre of the schem

this door. Howard and Graham passed in, and Graham, glancing back, saw the white-robed Council still standing in a close group and looking at him. The

egan Graham. "What were they discussing? What have they to do with me?" Howard closed the door carefully, heaved a huge sigh, and said som

ood regar

ns. As a matter of fact--it is a case of compound interest partly--your small fortune, and the fortune of your cousin Warming which was left to you--and certain other beginnings--have becom

sto

said

rave socia

es

pass that, in fact, it is ad

soner!" excl

you to keep

him. "This is s

will be d

ha

must be k

n my position

cise

hen. Begin.

t n

y n

long a st

What was that shouting I heard? Why is a great multitude shouting and excited beca

This is one of those flimsy times when no man has a settled mind. Your

coun

uncil y

"This is not right," he said. "I

it. Really y

I have waited so long to resume life," he

ter. And I must leave you alone. For a space. While I

noiseless door, he

rying to piece together the kaleidoscopic impressions of this first hour of awakened life; the vast mechanical spaces, the endless series of chambers and passages, the great struggle that roared and splashed through these strange ways, the little group of remote unsympathetic men beneath

ries of magnificent impressions was a dream. He tried to shut his ey

all the unfamiliar appointments of the t

ith a little greyshot beard trimmed to a point, and his hair, its blackness streaked now with bands of grey, arranged over his forehe

n. "To call on old Warming like this!" he ex

the midst of his amusement realised that every soul with whom he might jest had died many score of years ago. The t

uting multitudes came back clear and vivid, and those remote, inaudible, unfriendly councillors in white. He felt him

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The Sleeper Awakes
The Sleeper Awakes
“When the Sleeper Wakes_, whose title I have now altered to _The Sleeper Awakes_, was first published as a book in 1899 after a serial appearance in the _Graphic_ and one or two American and colonial periodicals. It is one of the most ambitious and least satisfactory of my books, and I have taken the opportunity afforded by this reprinting to make a number of excisions and alterations. Like most of my earlier work, it was written under considerable pressure; there are marks of haste not only in the writing of the latter part, but in the very construction of the story. Except for certain streaks of a slovenliness which seems to be an almost unavoidable defect in me, there is little to be ashamed of in the writing of the opening portion; but it will be fairly manifest to the critic that instead of being put aside and thought over through a leisurely interlude, the ill-conceived latter part was pushed to its end. I was at that time overworked, and badly in need of a holiday. In addition to various necessary journalistic tasks, I had in hand another book, _Love and Mr. Lewisham_, which had taken a very much stronger hold upon my affections than this present story. My circumstances demanded that one or other should be finished before I took any rest, and so I wound up the Sleeper sufficiently to make it a marketable work, hoping to be able to revise it before the book printers at any rate got hold of it. But fortune was against me. I came back to England from Italy only to fall dangerously ill, and I still remember the impotent rage and strain of my attempt to put some sort of finish to my story of Mr. Lewisham, with my temperature at a hundred and two. I couldn't endure the thought of leaving that book a fragment. I did afterwards contrive to save it from the consequences of that febrile spurt--_Love and Mr. Lewisham_ is indeed one of my most carefully balanced books--but the Sleeper escaped me. It is twelve years now since the Sleeper was written, and that young man of thirty-one is already too remote for me to attempt any very drastic reconstruction of his work. I have played now merely the part of an editorial elder brother: cut out relentlessly a number of long tiresome passages that showed all too plainly the fagged, toiling brain, the heavy sluggish _driven_ pen, and straightened out certain indecisions at the end. Except for that, I have done no more than hack here and there at clumsy phrases and repetitions. The worst thing in the earlier version, and the thing that rankled most in my mind, was the treatment of the relations of Helen Wotton and Graham. Haste in art is almost always vulgarisation, and I slipped into the obvious vulgarity of making what the newspaper syndicates call a "love interest" out of Helen. There was even a clumsy intimation that instead of going up in the flying-machine to fight, Graham might have given in to Ostrog, and married Helen. I have now removed the suggestion of these uncanny connubialities. Not the slightest intimation of any sexual interest could in truth have arisen between these two. They loved and kissed one another, but as a girl and her heroic grandfather might love, and in a crisis kiss. I have found it possible, without any very serious disarrangement, to clear all that objectionable stuff out of the story, and so a little ease my conscience on the score of this ungainly lapse. I have also, with a few strokes of the pen, eliminated certain dishonest and regrettable suggestions that the People beat Ostrog. My Graham dies, as all his kind must die, with no certainty of either victory or defeat. Who will win--Ostrog or the People? A thousand years hence that will still be just the open question we leave to-day. H.G. WELLS.”
1 Chapter 1 Insomnia2 Chapter 2 The Trance3 Chapter 3 The Awakening4 Chapter 4 The Sound Of A Tumult5 Chapter 5 The Moving Ways6 Chapter 6 The Hall Of The Atlas7 Chapter 7 In The Silent Rooms8 Chapter 8 The Roof Spaces9 Chapter 9 The People March10 Chapter 10 The Battle Of The Darkness11 Chapter 11 The Old Man Who Knew Everything12 Chapter 12 Ostrog13 Chapter 13 The End Of The Old Order14 Chapter 14 From The Crow's Nest15 Chapter 15 Prominent People16 Chapter 16 The Monoplane17 Chapter 17 Three Days18 Chapter 18 Graham Remembers19 Chapter 19 Ostrog's Point Of View20 Chapter 20 In The City Ways21 Chapter 21 The Under-Side22 Chapter 22 The Struggle In The Council House23 Chapter 23 Graham Speaks His Word24 Chapter 24 While The Aeroplanes Were Coming25 Chapter 25 The Coming Of The Aeroplanes