The salesman got out a package of cigarettes. A tired woman who had come in to get off her feet and put down her bundles. A dark rat-faced cab driver drinking coffee. An elderly businessman in a blue-serge suit, vest and pocket watch. Two workmen, sleeves rolled up, arms dark and hairy, eating bean soup and rolls. The teen-age boy and girl in one of the booths, eyes fixed intently on each other. "Only in the summer," the waitress answered. A middle-aged fat man with a good-natured smile, rumpled gray suit, sweat-stained white shirt, a drooping bowtie, and a Panama hat. He addressed everybody at the lunch counter and in the shabby booths against the wall. "Is it always hot like this?" the salesman demanded. For out of the countryside came a great golden, godlike youth whose extraordinary mutant powers, combining the world's oldest and newest methods of survival, promised a new and superior type of mankind… Menace to homo sapien supremacy was about ended - but not quite. The powers of earth had finally exterminated the last of the horrible tribes of mutant freaks spawned by atomic war.
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