” “Call the cops

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to the red brick tower halfway across the courtyard. “The
Lucky Strike chimney.”
“That’s the old powerhouse there. They used to burn coal in that thing
make their own electricity. What about it?”
“Tell him that’s where it’s going to happen. He’ll know what I mean.”
“Your name?”
“Michael. He’ll know.”
“I’ll be sure to tell him.” The old man waved another ten people through
the doors.
“Could you do it now?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Could you call him right now? This is an emergency.”
“Be patientson. I got a job to do here.”
Michael was out of patience. He ran to the end of the covered walkway
vaulted the handrailand sprinted across the grass toward the two-story build-
ing at the base of the smokestack.
Thatat leastgot the guard’s attention. He was standing at the rail now and
shouting“Hey [link widoczny dla zalogowanych] draw comics! Hey [link widoczny dla zalogowanych] Jest you
'it me! Where do you think you’re going?”
“Call the cops [link widoczny dla zalogowanych]!” Michael shouted back.
The smokestack itself was freestandingrising up from a concrete pad where
a corner had been cut out of the surrounding powerhouse building. There
would have been space enough to squeeze between the building and the
smokestackhad Black Star not closed it of with heavy-duty chain link fenc-
ing. If there was