Read "The Syndic" by C.M. Kornbluth online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
Max Wyman shoved his way through such a roar of voices and such a crush of bodies as he had never known before. Scratch Sheet Square was bright as day -- brighter. Atomic lamps, mounted on hundred-story buildings hosed and squirted the happy mob with blue-white glare. The Scratch Sheet's moving sign was saying in fiery letters seventy-five feet tall: "_11: 58 PM EST. December 31st. Cops say two million jam NYC streets to greet New Year. 11: 59 PM EST. December 31st. Falcaro jokes on TV 'Never thought we'd make it'. 12: 00 midnight January 1st. Happy New Year._"
The roar of voices had become insane. Max Wyman held his head, hating it, hating them all, trying to shut them out. Half a dozen young men against whom he was jammed were tearing the clothes off a girl. They were laughing and she was too, making only a pretense of defending herself. It was one of New York's mild winter nights. Wyman looked at the white skin not knowing that his eyes gloated. He yelled curses at her, and the young men. But nobody heard his whiskey-hoarsened young voice.