Free Autumn in the City of Lights by Kirby Howell Page A

this Summit of New Nations would be held in Paris? It couldn’t be a coincidence.
    I turned my head, catching Grey’s eyes, and knew he was thinking the same thing. He squeezed my hand reassuringly while the people around us continued their nervous chatter.
    “Please, everyone. Calm down, calm down,” Diego said, walking to center stage. “Is this true?” he asked Karl.
    “We picked up the transmission on our shortwave less than an hour ago. Contact Hoover — they must have heard it, too.”
    “And can we be sure this transmission actually came from Paris and not another aggressive group?” Diego asked.
    Karl thought for a moment, leaving the audience in suspense. “We can’t. The best I can say is that the transmission was weak, as if coming from a long distance. And minutes after it ended, there was another one from New York, relaying the same information.”
    “Paris wants every post-plague settlement to send a delegate to assist in re-building our global communications. We shouldn’t miss out on this opportunity. I suggest the Westside and New Burbank each send someone.” Karl turned to the audience and projected his voice. “Hold elections, or send Diego here. It doesn’t matter to me. But we need to move fast. The world is coming back together, and we should have a say in how that happens.”
    “If each city is to send a delegate, why are we sending a representative from the Westside and New Burbank?” Diego asked.  “Perhaps we should be sending one to represent us all.”
    An undercurrent of boos was audible despite the hearty applause.
    “This city is not yet unified,” Karl said, speaking above the noise. “As evidenced by the bombing at our last meeting, we still have a long way to go, and I’m not confident you, or another representative, will have the best interest of my people at heart. I will go to represent them.”
    The muscles in Diego’s jaw tightened. I could tell he was annoyed by Karl’s command of the discussion.
    “Fine. An election will be held for New Burbank to choose its delegate. Until then, this meeting is adjourned.”
    It was just after mid-day by the time we got back to the hospital. I headed toward Ben’s room with the others close behind me, and crashed into Shad’s back when he stopped suddenly in the doorway.
    “Shad, what–” I began, but words fell away when I stepped around him and saw what had caused him to stop short. Ben was awake.
    Relief washed over me, as he turned his head and smiled at us. Rissi broke away from Connie’s side to wrap her arms around me.
    “Look at Ben!” she shrieked with joy.
    “I see! I see!”  I rushed to the bed and dropped my arms around him. To my surprise, Shad fell in behind me and draped his long arms over us all.
    “Careful, everyone,” Grey said, walking up behind me and staring down at Ben. “You’ve suffered a spinal injury. We need to restrict your movement until the swelling subsides.”  He began giving Ben the once over.  “How long have you been awake?”
    “About an hour,” Connie said.
    Ben’s voice was soft, but alert. “What did I miss at the meeting? We throwing Karl in the stockade yet?”  He tried to smile, but I could tell it was false.
    “How are you concerned about that right now?” I asked.
    “Better to focus on that, than this.”  Ben gestured to his legs. Then I frowned. I hadn’t seen him move his lower limbs yet.
    “Can you all step out for a few minutes while I examine him?” Grey asked. He seemed even more earnest this time, and suddenly the joy I’d felt about seeing Ben awake was replaced by a sinking feeling.
    We stood outside the exam room for twenty minutes. Rissi was confused. She seemed to think Ben would be walking out of here with us in a matter of hours, now that he was conscious. I wasn’t as naïve.
    Grey opened the door and gave us a grim smile. “Ben still has no feeling below the waist.  We’ll know more in a few days.”  He looked down at Rissi.