The gentle breeze ruffling the little hair left on his head had been blowing irregularly over the last few months. This would not be of any concern to most people but Hubert Grossman was a worried man. As the mayor of Munich he new the subtle meaning of such a breeze. The normal ebb and flow of air currents indicated a balance was established and when the wind only flowed in one direction it could only mean one thing. He had witnessed first hand the devastating power of the wind in Dresden, just before the french had taken it into their greedy empire.
He looked out from the spectacular viewpoint provided by the 70th floor veranda of the lofty trade centre. An economics meeting had just ended after the usual review of the city's monthly financial status. It was his custom to relax on the veranda to clear his mind of the endless list of figures he had to listen to each meeting.
Although the meeting had shown the city was in excellent economic health with its many heavy industries, and even produced a budget surplus, it did little to lift the uneasiness he felt.
The city was grey. The beautiful grey of Germany. This was accentuated by the smoke billowing from the steel factories pumping out the war material demanded by the chancellor for a conflict the mayor knew would probably never occur.
Far in the distance one could see the cheerful, yet hated, skyblue color of France's territory. The blue had spread into the cottages and farm houses along the outskirts of Munich. A trickle of people who had already succumbed could be seen at any time making their way to 'the other side'. Their arms were held out straight infront of them and their hands hung limply from their wrists. Eyes like saucers, unblinking and staring fixedly forwards, guided the unconcious zombies across the grey and into the blue. Nothing could stop them on their silent journey, dragging their feet, for they had already been claimed.
"Their numbers grow everyday. My soldiers stand by to put an end to it and are only awaiting your order sir." City defence official Dietz Schwarzkopf's words were spoken in the typically articulate cold manner of an army staff.
"No, you fool. You are no different from the chancellor. This is no time to be bringing out guns and shooting innocent people. It is not their fault. Their minds are no longer their own. This is a battle of culture, and guns are hardly the thing to win this kind of contest with." Hubert growled out the words with disgust. "Call out Fritz. We must come up with a plan soon or all join the zombies."
Fritz Unruh was the city cultural administrator, a man well-known for his negligence of the people's needs and infatuation with poetry. "I heard an excellent sicilian love sonnet yesterday and thought it...."
"I'm not interested in a blasted sonnet. Listen here Fritz. You see what's happening out there?" Hubert thrust out a finger pointed to the area in the distance where the blue could be seen among the outskirts.
"Oh yes Hubert..."
"I told you not to call me that! How many times must we go through this? Address me properly or you'll learn what a 70 floor bellyflop feels like!"
"Mayor Grossman, it looks like we need to increase our efforts." Fritz's shoulder's slumped in reaction to the berating.
"I know that you idiot. What I need are concrete ideas that are going to solve the problem. Now please! Get with the program! We need to do something fast or we'll all be losing our minds!" Hubert's frayed nerves wore on everyone and absent-minded Fritz was unfortunate to have to bare the brunt of his frustration.
Just then a powerful gust of wind hit the veranda, almost knocking down all who stood there. The wind pushed against the windows threatening to burst through and howled through the streets and buildings below. The leafy trees lining the street were bent over and their branches resembled big mops being skaken by an overzealous janitor. People who had been walking outside clung to each other or nearby street signs to avoid falling over. For to fall one could be imperiled. A few fell down and rolled over. Immediately they arose again, but were already transformed to the zombiish state of the others.
Struggling and pressed up against the outside of the veranda's windows, Hubert yelled to be heard over the fierce wind. "Somebody find out what's happening!"
To his surprise, it was Fritz who could answer first. While trying to peel himself off the window and make it inside he cried out, "It's the new colleseum sir! They must have just opened it to the public!"
After several minutes of desperation, they made it inside and closed the glass doors of the veranda. Panting a bit, Hubert barked out, "We need to do something now! We've got to get over to the cultural centre as soon as possible. It'll be a hard walk but its only 2 blocks away. The fate of city depends on us."
"Wouldn't it be easier to go by car sir?" Dietz suggested.
"Yes it would. But it looks like the street has already jammed with traffic. The sudden panic during rush hour has probably done it. I've seen this happen before. I was in Dresden and barely escaped on time. We'll have to form a human chain by linking our arms together. The longer the chain is the stronger it will be."
Fear showed on Hubert's face as he continued, "The centre of the chain will be safest so we will be there. The 9 to 5 workers can link on next followed by the part-timers. We can put the lawyers on the ends. Now let's get to it before the wind gets any stronger!"
Then one of the windows imploded spraying shards of glass into the spacious conference room.
Chapter 2
Joeli, a lanky 19-year Fijian, watched the metal beams on the cement go by as he rode the squeaky elevator to the first floor. He never bothered to close the 2 iron gates on the front of the elevator cage and saw no reason for it. No one was there to care if he fell out or not and he had a tight timetable to follow. Normally he would sneek a quick peek at his X-rated magazines piled in a corner of the elevator while traveling between floors but not today.
The cultural centre was like a haunted house in the middle of a bustling city. Hardly a soul ventured into it, and well so, considering nothing ever happened in it except at Christmas time and the Erntedankfest in October. A building made eerie by absense and size, it was a lonely task to work here.
Joeli quickly polished off the metal rims of the first floor elevator entrance. Galeforce winds battered the building and the ghostlike sound of air hissing through cracks added to his curiousity. He was too busy to see outside but he was almost finished the polishing task and could afford a look before mopping the floor.
Joeli jogged into the lobby, stopped and stared in amazement at the scene of despair before him. Cars were all jammed together like a huge pile-up had occurred, trees and signs broken off, and the windows of every building had been shattered. Some smaller structures had collapsed and he was sure he had seen a white, fluffy cat flying through the air screeching in terror.
But this was not what horrified him. It was the people crawling along the ground like lizards with the skin on their faces stretched thin across their skulls by both the relentless wind and by their own determination. And others were walking with their arms held up and looking only straight ahead with saucerlike eyes and morbid expressions, seeming to be relatively steady in the wind. They were owned by the wind.
Then he saw an odd line of people still on their feet with arms interlinked hunkered over like quarterbacks trying to barge through for a touchdown. They were barely moving and were having immense difficulty negotiating each step. There were 5 of them and they were ever so slowly making their way towards the cultural building. Then a girl on one end lost her hold on the line and a gust lifted her up into the air, bouncing her lightly off the front the neighboring bank and deposited her on top of a car. She was flipped over backwards and arose again, unaware.
Joeli waited so long for them to reach the secondary entrance that he almost began mopping the floor. It wouldn't be possible to open the main door against the pressure of the wind but the second smaller one was designed for exactly such a purpose. He cranked the wheel round and round and the door clinked its way up like something made for an midevil dungeon. The wind blasted through the opening and the 4 people were sucked into the limited space, stuck fast with much yelling and cursing, and then managed to make their way inside one by one.
"Did you see that cat flying through the air?" asked Joeli as if it was the only thing that had happened.
With a red face and rasping breath, Hubert held his back in pain and stood upright for the first time in several hours. "Young man, that cat nearly scalped me as it flew over. You are lucky to be in the only building in the city which is engineered to withstand a hurricane-force wind. I am the mayor of this city Hubert Grossman, this is Fritz, and the lady is Irina who works in the public affairs department. The gentleman just coming through now is Die...!"
He looked out from the spectacular viewpoint provided by the 70th floor veranda of the lofty trade centre. An economics meeting had just ended after the usual review of the city's monthly financial status. It was his custom to relax on the veranda to clear his mind of the endless list of figures he had to listen to each meeting.
Although the meeting had shown the city was in excellent economic health with its many heavy industries, and even produced a budget surplus, it did little to lift the uneasiness he felt.
The city was grey. The beautiful grey of Germany. This was accentuated by the smoke billowing from the steel factories pumping out the war material demanded by the chancellor for a conflict the mayor knew would probably never occur.
Far in the distance one could see the cheerful, yet hated, skyblue color of France's territory. The blue had spread into the cottages and farm houses along the outskirts of Munich. A trickle of people who had already succumbed could be seen at any time making their way to 'the other side'. Their arms were held out straight infront of them and their hands hung limply from their wrists. Eyes like saucers, unblinking and staring fixedly forwards, guided the unconcious zombies across the grey and into the blue. Nothing could stop them on their silent journey, dragging their feet, for they had already been claimed.
"Their numbers grow everyday. My soldiers stand by to put an end to it and are only awaiting your order sir." City defence official Dietz Schwarzkopf's words were spoken in the typically articulate cold manner of an army staff.
"No, you fool. You are no different from the chancellor. This is no time to be bringing out guns and shooting innocent people. It is not their fault. Their minds are no longer their own. This is a battle of culture, and guns are hardly the thing to win this kind of contest with." Hubert growled out the words with disgust. "Call out Fritz. We must come up with a plan soon or all join the zombies."
Fritz Unruh was the city cultural administrator, a man well-known for his negligence of the people's needs and infatuation with poetry. "I heard an excellent sicilian love sonnet yesterday and thought it...."
"I'm not interested in a blasted sonnet. Listen here Fritz. You see what's happening out there?" Hubert thrust out a finger pointed to the area in the distance where the blue could be seen among the outskirts.
"Oh yes Hubert..."
"I told you not to call me that! How many times must we go through this? Address me properly or you'll learn what a 70 floor bellyflop feels like!"
"Mayor Grossman, it looks like we need to increase our efforts." Fritz's shoulder's slumped in reaction to the berating.
"I know that you idiot. What I need are concrete ideas that are going to solve the problem. Now please! Get with the program! We need to do something fast or we'll all be losing our minds!" Hubert's frayed nerves wore on everyone and absent-minded Fritz was unfortunate to have to bare the brunt of his frustration.
Just then a powerful gust of wind hit the veranda, almost knocking down all who stood there. The wind pushed against the windows threatening to burst through and howled through the streets and buildings below. The leafy trees lining the street were bent over and their branches resembled big mops being skaken by an overzealous janitor. People who had been walking outside clung to each other or nearby street signs to avoid falling over. For to fall one could be imperiled. A few fell down and rolled over. Immediately they arose again, but were already transformed to the zombiish state of the others.
Struggling and pressed up against the outside of the veranda's windows, Hubert yelled to be heard over the fierce wind. "Somebody find out what's happening!"
To his surprise, it was Fritz who could answer first. While trying to peel himself off the window and make it inside he cried out, "It's the new colleseum sir! They must have just opened it to the public!"
After several minutes of desperation, they made it inside and closed the glass doors of the veranda. Panting a bit, Hubert barked out, "We need to do something now! We've got to get over to the cultural centre as soon as possible. It'll be a hard walk but its only 2 blocks away. The fate of city depends on us."
"Wouldn't it be easier to go by car sir?" Dietz suggested.
"Yes it would. But it looks like the street has already jammed with traffic. The sudden panic during rush hour has probably done it. I've seen this happen before. I was in Dresden and barely escaped on time. We'll have to form a human chain by linking our arms together. The longer the chain is the stronger it will be."
Fear showed on Hubert's face as he continued, "The centre of the chain will be safest so we will be there. The 9 to 5 workers can link on next followed by the part-timers. We can put the lawyers on the ends. Now let's get to it before the wind gets any stronger!"
Then one of the windows imploded spraying shards of glass into the spacious conference room.
Chapter 2
Joeli, a lanky 19-year Fijian, watched the metal beams on the cement go by as he rode the squeaky elevator to the first floor. He never bothered to close the 2 iron gates on the front of the elevator cage and saw no reason for it. No one was there to care if he fell out or not and he had a tight timetable to follow. Normally he would sneek a quick peek at his X-rated magazines piled in a corner of the elevator while traveling between floors but not today.
The cultural centre was like a haunted house in the middle of a bustling city. Hardly a soul ventured into it, and well so, considering nothing ever happened in it except at Christmas time and the Erntedankfest in October. A building made eerie by absense and size, it was a lonely task to work here.
Joeli quickly polished off the metal rims of the first floor elevator entrance. Galeforce winds battered the building and the ghostlike sound of air hissing through cracks added to his curiousity. He was too busy to see outside but he was almost finished the polishing task and could afford a look before mopping the floor.
Joeli jogged into the lobby, stopped and stared in amazement at the scene of despair before him. Cars were all jammed together like a huge pile-up had occurred, trees and signs broken off, and the windows of every building had been shattered. Some smaller structures had collapsed and he was sure he had seen a white, fluffy cat flying through the air screeching in terror.
But this was not what horrified him. It was the people crawling along the ground like lizards with the skin on their faces stretched thin across their skulls by both the relentless wind and by their own determination. And others were walking with their arms held up and looking only straight ahead with saucerlike eyes and morbid expressions, seeming to be relatively steady in the wind. They were owned by the wind.
Then he saw an odd line of people still on their feet with arms interlinked hunkered over like quarterbacks trying to barge through for a touchdown. They were barely moving and were having immense difficulty negotiating each step. There were 5 of them and they were ever so slowly making their way towards the cultural building. Then a girl on one end lost her hold on the line and a gust lifted her up into the air, bouncing her lightly off the front the neighboring bank and deposited her on top of a car. She was flipped over backwards and arose again, unaware.
Joeli waited so long for them to reach the secondary entrance that he almost began mopping the floor. It wouldn't be possible to open the main door against the pressure of the wind but the second smaller one was designed for exactly such a purpose. He cranked the wheel round and round and the door clinked its way up like something made for an midevil dungeon. The wind blasted through the opening and the 4 people were sucked into the limited space, stuck fast with much yelling and cursing, and then managed to make their way inside one by one.
"Did you see that cat flying through the air?" asked Joeli as if it was the only thing that had happened.
With a red face and rasping breath, Hubert held his back in pain and stood upright for the first time in several hours. "Young man, that cat nearly scalped me as it flew over. You are lucky to be in the only building in the city which is engineered to withstand a hurricane-force wind. I am the mayor of this city Hubert Grossman, this is Fritz, and the lady is Irina who works in the public affairs department. The gentleman just coming through now is Die...!"
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