City Wars by Dennis Palumbo Read Free Book Online

but—Jake, I want you and Cassandra down here immediately.”
    Bowman and the Guardian exchanged looks.
    “What about E Sector, sir?” Bowman asked.
    “Not over transmission,” the Senior Minister replied with a tired smile. “Just get down here. Out.”
    The screen went black.
    Bowman took a step toward the screen, as though to speak, then motioned to Cassandra. She got up from the couch and reached for the light blue tunic.

6
    There were perhaps thirty in all, gathered now, their heads bent, arms dangling at their sides. Not one among them spoke above a whisper.
    There was no light in this room, and the wind pushing the chill down the street just outside moaned through the rough timbers. Occasionally, the old building would shake, and scurrying rats would show their coats to the dim light, then disappear into the dark places once more.
    Giles would come soon, one of the lunks said. To this place, to this old place.
    In times long past this building had stood with others like it, pale vaults where the poor and the dull were stored. It had been part of an old neighborhood, a ghetto, an urban wound.
    Now it lay abandoned, dead, a place where small creatures huddled and spawned anew.
    Now also it was a place of hiding.
    Two more lunks came into the dim room, lowering their heads as they passed through the doorway.
    Giles was coming, one of them said.
    The lunks moved slowly in the shadows, forming a half circle. Dust clung to their worn shoes, to the cuffs of their trousers.
    Their arms swung wide as they moved into position. The dullness left their blinking eyes; they lifted their voices.
    Whispers came together in the gloom, and found cadence.
    They began to chant.
    Heads must raise,
Our heads must raise—
Eyes have life,
Our eyes have life—
Voices lift,
Our voices lift—
Lunks will no more welcome death!
Lunks will no more welcome death!
Lunks will no more welcome death!
    The chanting grew louder, and with each chorus the lunks found their bodies swaying to the cadence, found their long arms swinging, and the fists at the ends of those long arms were clenched.
    And the whole room quivered, as though a living thing chilled by the wind. But it was not the wind.
    Heads must raise,
Our heads must raise—
Eyes have life,
Our eyes have life—
    Giles stood now in their midst and the chanting ceased. Dust swirled, settled. The room was still.
    Giles raised his great lunk arms. His coat was long, woolen, many-colored: a marvel. He stood in high black boots.
    “Lunks will no more welcome death!” he cried, turning his head to look at each of them squarely.
    The lunks stared, transfixed.
    Giles lowered his arms, relaxed his stance. His eyes held the room.
    “Only fools pray for death, brothers and sisters,” he said. “And we are not fools. Except when we are the fools of fools.”
    They watched him, watched his lips as he formed words. As always, the ease with which he spoke filled them with awe.
    Giles was a young man, and his skin flushed pink under the lunk-gray of his cheeks. He was different from his brothers. They’d known it at once. From the very first, when Giles had come to them, angry and unafraid.
    Giles had been unafraid, and so became their leader.
    “We are but the first,” he was saying. “The first to challenge the tormentors in this new age of torment. For make no mistake. Every age has its tormentors, and its challengers, with only time distinguishing one from the other.”
    The young lunk made his hands come together in front of him. With effort, they might touch.
    “What shall we be called? Rebels? Revolutionaries? Usurpers? I can’t speak for other men and women. I can’t speak for the voice of history itself. And I don’t presume to speak for you, my brothers and sisters.”
    Speak for us, came a whisper.
    Yes! Yes! Speak for us!
    Giles tilted his head. His thick hair brushed the collar of his coat.
    A thunder of whispers.
    SPEAK FOR US! SPEAK FOR US! SPEAK FOR US!
    Giles stood before