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Duke of Two Cities Chapter 32
This. Panel. Sucked. Forty minutes had passed since the start of the panel and all the writers had managed was to congratulate themselves for being writers: “I think what we’re doing— and by what we’re doing, I mean what we in the writing business call ‘the craft’—is by far one of the most important things we can do as people.”“I agree! We are always looking to push the boundaries and look into ourselves to find deeper meaning of… you know… what it means to be a good person and to be a good human-being. But what is a ‘good human being? There’s a few definitions…”“Oh absolutely. I completely agree. And in these troubled times, that’s something I think we can all come together and support…”Worst of all was their tone—the writers spoke as if drugged, their words slow and droning like the hum of a faraway refrigerator. What could have been even a mildly interesting discussion was instead a slow, winding lecture of the worst sort—self-important, self-righteous, drab, dull, and boring.
Duke of Two Cities Chapter 33
Faster than Devon could react, the two sides drew themselves up in a wave of anger. Zeven’s supporters rushed to the teens with cybernetics. Julio’s around the girl who had dissolved into a furious torrent of Spanish. If he was caught in the coming melee, Devon would lose his free room… and possibly liable for the damages. The two sides swirled around each other, their cries of anger growing loud and vicious. Devon looked toward the exit. There was still a path to the exit, but it was closing quickly as more people stood up to either join or escape the coming brawl. A few closest to the audience made an early exit, not wanting to get involved, followed by a stream of ever-growing urgency. A streams of Julio’s supporters were about to cut off the gap, shouting and pointing their fingers, a phalanx of indignant nerds on the march to war. The organizer had rushed to the microphone, pleading for calm. His thin, quavering voice could barely make it above the growing chaos of a thous
Duke of Two Cities Chapter 34
Ali’s heart was about to burst out of his throat. How did things get so bad? He had been sitting, carefully paying attention to every word. He trawled through all of his English memories to piece together what these Important People were saying—like fitting together a puzzle. In truth, he had put into this more effort than all of his English lessons back home. In the middle of this talk, something changed. The author with half a headphone set on his ear had thrown some strange looks towards another author—a man with greying hair who looked almost like Cousin Sayid. Indeed, there was much about him—the slightly greying hair, the way he wore his beard—that made Ali think that this man, Julio Vasquez, could have been related to Cousin Sayid in some way. Of course, this was impossible. But the similarities were quite uncanny. Then, chaos. Julio Vasquez became upset and stormed out from the panel, and the crowd went into an uproar. This was nothing new—Zhabai also had such moments o
Duke of Two Cities Chapter 35
A third chair sailed over Devon’s head—this one far too close for comfort. “JESUS!” Without thinking, Devon pushed Ali through the conference room doors just as a chair flew over his head. Ali landed flat on his face, his hands shooting up to the back of his head. They had made it out. Just in time, too. Down the hall, a contingent of conference security armed with plastic shields and black truncheons hustled down the corridor toward the conference room. Some of the truncheons were tipped with what looked like a microphone’s head. Devon’s stomach crunched. A sonic stunner. “Cover your ears, man!” Ali’s fingers laced firmly around the back of his head and did not budge. Damn it! Closing one of his ears with his shoulder, Devon blocked Ali’s exposed ears with his hands. HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE A choir of yelping coursed from the conference room. Even outside, the stunner ripped through Devon’s unexposed ear. Pain coursed through his jaw as though someone
Duke of Two Cities Chapter 36
A sharp yelp came from the conference, and that was the last sound that came from the room. It was the last Devon and Ali heard from the rumbler. For ten minutes, the security walked slowly, almost leisurely, waving the stunner with professional ease. The convention’s security was unhurried in their pacification—no different from an exterminator flushing out termites from the walls. Meanwhile, three hundred terrified panel goers backed themselves into whatever corners they could find. Zeven’s supporters crammed themselves into the same corners as the followers of Julio, their former enmity washed away by the waves of sonic pain. Then, without a word, the convention security left. No orders, no demands. They just walked out of the room. Devon wouldn’t even look at them as they passed. Ali, however, did. They wore old police uniforms, complete with bulletproof, anti-stabbing vests. Their faces were covered with angular breath protectors, giving them the appearance of armored beetle
Duke of Two Cities Chapter 37
“S-sure!” Devon pulled over a table and Ali, burying himself fully in his last taco, helped to pull a chair. Up close, Julio Luis Vasquez looked even more like an author than on the panel. He was neatly, if conservatively, dressed in lecturer’s tweed with small round glasses. His goatee was a cloudy grey, but still holding on to a few patches of the original color, which must have been coal black at one point. His eyes twinkled, alert and bright, but the bags under his eyes suggested many nights without rest. After some polite introductions, Julio took out his own taco and gave it a deep bite. He closed his eyes, sighing with contentment. “Dios mio… that is good.” “Does it… uh… taste like home?” asked Devon. “Oh, not at all,” Julio said. “I am from Spain and tacos are not Spanish food, so I did not grow up with this.” Julio pronounced Spain like “Ehs-pain,” an accent which Devon had never heard before. “But I have been to Mexico, and this is far, far too fancy. Over there, taco
Duke of Two Cities Chapter 38
There sat the three of them; Ali, Devon, and Julio Vasquez. His speech on the sorry state of his city and its people had put him into a dreary mood. Julio wasn’t wrong. This whole day had been living proof, and Julio had stories of his own. A part of him wanted to defend his city—New Hudson wasn’t all bad! Devon had lived here his entire life and had gotten to see it from al sides. There were plenty of reasons why today seemed to go so wrong— it was right smack in the middle of the summer, blazing hot even in the shade. That people were a little big on edge was reasonable. And what invention of people didn’t have the occasional spat here and there? Nevertheless, Devon could not help but feel a bit ashamed of his city. Out of nowhere, a quiet voice began to chant:Poor rocky pebbles built my walls Four handfuls each do I call home Humble as the prophets Who without complaint or soundShield me from wind and sand and rainAnd I, safe and warm and dry Would not trade this place For
Duke of Two Cities Chapter 39
Ali wanted to throw up. He had really done it this time. Coming on this trip was his escape from royal life. He picked a spot nearly across the world from his Father’s City, the Zhabaiye Household, and all that came with it. No sneaking, no humiliation, no family secrets whispered about by maids and waiting staff. New Hudson, the gritty paradise, was free of such things. Here, Ali could be himself—or even find what ‘himself’ meant — with treasured friends who would like him and respect him for who he was. Was royal life so inescapable? He sat ruminating as the writer Julio Vasquez talked easily of his family to a complete stranger. The writer was wrong, of course—or rather incomplete. True, his grandfather had been a television producer and from that humble position made himself a kingdom. He did not know the grip of utter fear that Grandfather held over Ali’s family. This stranger spoke of Ali’s grandfather as though he were some sort of magician—a creator who had come out