"What about me?" a frightened voice suddenly rattled. "When's somebody going to tell me what's going on?"
Reynolds. They had forgotten all about him, Stan thought. Now the big man was shaking with fear, fear of the unknown. Stan wrinkled his nose. The ape was sweating and you could smell him clear across the room.
Tanner laughed easily. "I'll give you a full explanation later on, Reynolds. But right now we're in trouble!"
CHAPTER VIII
Stan ran to the other window and stared at the street below. It didn't seem any different than when he had come in a few minutes earlier. The wide boulevard of stucco houses, the shade trees and the lawns. And a few of the apes on the sidewalk, hurrying to work....
Only they weren't hurrying, he noticed after a moment. One man was halfway down the house steps across the street, a brief case under his arm. But he wasn't moving. He was frozen in mid-air, off-balance, one foot halfway down to the next step. A housewife had stopped in mid-stride two doors down, her shopping bag swung forward at an awkward angle. At the corner, a small Renault car was poised in the middle of the street, caught in the process of turning.
Further down the block, two small boys in short pants and berets had been playing catch. One was crouched, his hand out. The other was standing, one foot in the air and one upraised arm behind his head. Stan narrowed his eyes and located the ball. It was about ten feet from the thrower, crawling slowly through the air.
Even as he watched, the ball slowed and stopped, hovering twenty feet above the asphalt.
"The air!" Reynolds suddenly screamed. "It's getting hard to breathe!"