Word: greys
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...Earth. Early last week a Dutch engineer named Egbert Roosma took a stroll on the outskirts of the camp. The late afternoon sun glistened on the bright yellow barracks, repair shops and tool sheds. There was a constant roar from bulldozers and heavy-duty trucks churning up the slate-grey earth as they carried dirt and rocks to the growing wall. Roosma, 25, had reason for satisfaction: the Mattmark project would be completed by October, and its turbines were already generating electricity. He had got on well with his Swiss employers and with the hundreds of workers on the project...
...year after he became Farm Bureau president. Shuman was making his regular weekend trip home on the Panama Limited, and sat down in the dining car next to a grey-eyed blonde. The train lurched, the blonde headed for the floor, and Charlie caught her. They got to talking. Romance blossomed. She was Mabel Ervin, a farm girl from 90 miles north of Sullivan who was working as a legal secretary in Chicago and was also headed home for the weekend. They were married a year later, have a son, Freedom Fighter (j.g.) George, 8, a carbon copy...
Operational heart of the whole place is Chris Kraft's Mission Control, a $7,000,000 building crammed with $100 million worth of electronic equipment. It is a mass of dull grey cabinets, closed-circuit TV equipment and banks of computers−all linked together by more than 10,000 miles of wire and 2,000,000 cross connections. The ground floor houses IBM 7094 II computers that monitor on-board systems of telemetry. On the second floor of the windowless structure is a master control room, with four rows of 20 consoles facing a huge world...
...even inner tubes. At night, weird vessels churn among the mangrove and coral cays on secret missions for no one is quite sure whom. One morning last week, a U.S. Coast Guard patrol boat 65 miles off Cuba drew alongside one of the strangest yet: an aged, 165-ft., grey-hulled converted yacht named the Seven Seas, adrift and seemingly unmanned-until a ragged youth crawled warily from a hatch. "The captain," he shouted, "is dead...
...newspaper."-"In our stratum of society," proclaimed one shaggy-haired youth with a sly grin, "we don't aspire to haircuts." On a ferryboat outing to Victoria, B.C., a Negro student watched a number of black-backed gulls mingling overhead with grey and white herring gulls and chuckled: "We're being intellectually stimulated watching the integrated seagulls." Another boy, appalled by a teacher's professed ignorance about "pot" (marijuana), observed: "You'd sure be disadvantaged in my neighborhood." Trying to "Rate." Many teachers find that kind of saucy intelligence more promising than the studied sophistication they...