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COMING IN DECEMBER 2009

Prologue

WISTY

IT’S OVERWHELMING A city’s worth of angry faces staring at me like I’m a wicked criminal—which, I promise you, I’m not The stadiu in the aisles, the stairwells, on the concrete ra field There are no football teaet out of the locker-room tunnels if they tried

This total abo broadcast on TV and on the Internet too All the useless azines are here, and the useless newspapers Yep, I see cameramen in elevated roosts at intervals around the stadium

There’s even one of those remote-controlled cameras that runs around on wires above the field There it is—hovering just in front of the stage, bobbing slightly in the breeze

So, there are undoubtedlythan I can see But it’s the ones here in the stadiu my heart To be confronted with tens, , or at least indifferent, faces… talk about frightening

And there are no moist eyes, never mind tears

No words of protest

No sto feet

No fists raised in solidarity

No inkling that anybody’s even thinking of surging forward, breaking through the security cordon, and carrying my family to safety

Clearly, this is not a good day for us Allgoods

In fact, as the countdown ticker flashes on the giant video screens at either end of the stadiu like this will be our last day

It’s a point driven home by the very tall, bald man up in the tower they’ve erected midfield—he looks like a cross between a Supre the Merciless I knoho he is I’ve actually met him He’s The One Who Is The One