AS THE THREE intruders huddled above, Lamont and Maddy visible again, they could hear that the world president was in fine form.
“Dear friends,” he began. “The most beautiful moment of the Most Beautiful Day has arrived. The time has come to share the earth’s plenty with those we love.” To the audience of millions around the city, his delivery radiated warmth and goodwill.
“And now,” Gismonde intoned. “The bounty is yours. Enjoy…and thrive!”
“Fire in the hole,” whispered Lamont.
Maddy and Margo wrapped their arms around their heads. Lamont blasted a fireball against the grate. A huge section of ductwork and plaster dropped down into the cellar. Lamont hit the floor first, with Margo and Maddy right behind him. The air was filled with plaster dust, and sparks were shooting from ripped-out light fixtures. Lamont turned toward the elegant desk in front of the arched stone background.
But the desk was empty. There was nobody there.
“Congratulations, Mr. Cranston!”
Lamont spun around at the sound of the voice. On the other side of the room a cluster of video monitors hung above a control console. A dozen of them. The screens showed a variety of views of Gismonde’s face, some framed so close that they showed only his mouth or his eyes, like a bizarre puzzle.
“Very resourceful,” said the world president. “You’ve reached your destination. But as you can see, you’re a bit too late!”
The images on the screens switched to views of the food sites in tents around the city. Margo and Maddy moved up next to Lamont. As they watched, white-jacketed attendants appeared from behind the draping near the food trucks, wheeling serving carts loaded with food. At the sight of the overflowing platters, the crowds under the tents exploded with gasps and cheers.
“No!” Lamont shouted. “You can’t do this!”
On screen after screen, attendants set huge platters of food in front of wide-eyed guests. Impatient children reached out for their first taste.
“I’m glad you’re there to see it, Mr. Cranston,” said Gismonde, his face blinking back onto the center screen. “It’s a pity I can’t be there with you.”
Suddenly, a lightning bolt knifed through the cellar wall, turning stone into gray vapor. Video screens exploded and thousands of wine bottles shattered, spraying the room with glass shards and purple foam. The foundation rocked. Lamont shielded Margo and Maddy with his body as the blast knocked them to the floor. The room was filled with smoke and fire. On the one remaining monitor, Gismonde’s face reappeared, distorted and pixilated. Lamont punched hard at the screen with Gismonde’s face, putting his fist right through the plasma membrane. As he pulled his hand back, he spotted a microphone lying on the console. He grabbed it. He didn’t know if his words would be enough. But he had to try.
At the tent sites, the speaker columns blasted a burst of static—then Lamont’s voice came through, loud and clear.
“Stop! Do not eat the food! Not a single bite! It’s all been poisoned!”
For a second, there was silence across the city. People around the tables seemed frozen in place. Was it possible? It couldn’t be! Then, one by one, people started to stand up.
“Bastards!” an elderly man cried out.
“Murderers!” a woman shouted.
The angry shouts spread from table to table, tent to tent, block to block. Mothers yanked food out of their children’s hands and citizens rose up with fury in their eyes. Men started flipping the heavy tables over, spilling huge platters of food onto the ground. As soon as they saw the uprising, the attendants fled out of the tents, tearing off their white jackets as they went. Police raised their rifles and shouted for order, but they were overpowered in seconds by the surging crowd.
A few shots were fired, but most went harmlessly into the air. The tables had turned, in more ways than one.
“That was a huge mistake!” roared Gismonde from the broken screen.
“Goddammit, where are you?” Lamont yelled at Gismonde’s crazed image.
Maddy struggled to her feet, aching and bruised. She stared at the distorted image on the screen and felt the evil energy radiate through her like a homing beacon. She wiped blood from a cut on her cheek and turned to Lamont.
“I know exactly where he is,” she said.