Part 41 (1/2)
Someone screamed in the crush. Then, like tenpins scattering, the first row of the riot squad went down as if some miniature tornado had blown them away. ”Jesus!” one of the police screamed. ”Who the f.u.c.k . . .” The police clubs were out now; as the jokers. .h.i.t the lines, they began to use them. A low roar dinned between the high buildings lining Grand Street, the sound of chaos let loose. The cops swung the clubs in earnest as frightened jokers began to fight back, striking out with fists or whatever was at hand. The joker with the wild TK power was throwing it everywhere with no control whatsoever: jokers and police and bystanders all were flung at random to roll in the streets or crash up against buildings. Tear-gas pellets dropped and exploded like a growing fog, adding to the confusion. Gargantua, a monstrous joker with a comically small head set on his ma.s.sive body, moaned as the stinging gas blinded him. Hauling a wooden cart with several of the less ambulatory jokers set in it, the childlike giant went berserk, the cart careening after him with his riders clinging to the sides desperately. Gargantua had no idea which way to run; he ran because he could think of nothing else to do. When he encountered the re-formed police line, he pummeled wildly at the clubs that struck him. A blow from that clumsy, huge fist was responsible for one of the deaths.
For an hour the formless battle swirled within a few blocks of the park entrance. The injured lay in the streets, and the sound of sirens wailed, echoing. It was not until midafternoon that any semblance of normalcy could be restored. The march had been broken, but at a great cost to all involved.
That long and hot night, the police patrolling Jokertown found their cruisers pelted with rocks and garbage, and the ghostly shades of jokers moved in the back streets and alleys with them: glimpses of rage-distorted faces and raised fists; futile, frustrated curses. In the humid darkness, the residents of Jokertown leaned down from fire escapes and open windows in the tenements to throw empty bottles, flowerpots, trash: they thudded against the roofs of the police vehicles or starred the winds.h.i.+elds. The cops stayed judiciously inside their cruisers, the windows up and the doors locked. Fires were set in a few of the deserted buildings, and the fire-fighting crews that came to the calls were a.s.saulted from the shadows of nearby houses.
Morning came in a pall of smoke, a veil of heat.
In 1962, Puppetman had come to New York City and there found his nirvana in the streets of Jokertown. There was all the hatred and anger and sorrow that he could ever wish to see, there were minds twisted and sickened by the virus, there were emotions already ripened and waiting to be shaped by his intrusions. The narrow streets, the shadowed alleys, the decaying buildings swarming with the deformed, the innumerable bars and clubs catering to all manner of warped, vile tastes: Jokertown was thick with potential for him, and he began to feast, slowly at first, and then more often. Jokertown was his. Puppetman perceived of himself as the sinister, hidden lord of the district. Puppetman could not force any of his puppets to do anything that went against their will; his power was not that strong. No, he needed a seed already planted in the mind: a tendency toward violence, a hatred, a l.u.s.t-then he could place his mental hand on that emotion and nurture it, until the pa.s.sion shattered all controls and surged out. They were bright and red-hued, those feelings. Puppetman could see them; even as he fed on them; even as he took them into his own head and felt the slow building of a heat that was s.e.xual in intensity; as the pounding, s.h.i.+mmering flare of o.r.g.a.s.m came while the puppet raped or killed or maimed.
Pain was pleasure. Power was pleasure.
Jokertown was where pleasure could always be found.
HARTMANN PLEADS FOR CALM.
MAYOR SAYS RIOTERS WILL BE PUNISHED.
New York Daily News, July 17, 1976
John Werthen came into Hartmann's hotel room from the connecting door of the suite. ”You're not going to like this, Gregg,” he said.
Gregg had been lying on his bed, his suit jacket thrown carelessly over the headboard, his hands behind his head as he watched Cronkite talk about the deadlocked convention. Gregg turned his head toward his aide. ”What now, John?”
”Amy called from the Was.h.i.+ngton office. As you suggested, we gave the problem of Tachyon's Soviet plant to Black Shadow. We just heard that the plant was found in Jokertown. He'd been strung up to a streetlamp with a note pinned to his chest-pinned through through his chest, Gregg; he wasn't wearing any clothes. The note outlined the Soviet program, how they're infecting 'volunteers' with the virus in an effort to get their own aces, and how they're simply killing the resulting jokers. The note went on to identify the poor schmuck as an agent. That's all: the coroner doesn't think that he was conscious through most of what the jokers did to him, but they found parts of the guy up to three blocks away.” his chest, Gregg; he wasn't wearing any clothes. The note outlined the Soviet program, how they're infecting 'volunteers' with the virus in an effort to get their own aces, and how they're simply killing the resulting jokers. The note went on to identify the poor schmuck as an agent. That's all: the coroner doesn't think that he was conscious through most of what the jokers did to him, but they found parts of the guy up to three blocks away.”
”Christ,” Gregg muttered. He let out a long breath. For a long minute, he lay there as Cronkite's cultured voice droned on about the final vote on the platform and the obvious deadlock between Carter and Kennedy for the nomination. ”Has anyone talked to Black Shadow since?”
John shrugged. He loosened his tie and opened the collar of his Brooks Brothers s.h.i.+rt. ”Not yet. He'll say that he he didn't do anything, you know, and in his own way, he's right.” didn't do anything, you know, and in his own way, he's right.”
”Come on, John,” Gregg replied. ”He knew d.a.m.n well what would happen if he tied the guy up with that note on him. He's one of those aces who think they can do things their way without worrying about the laws. Call him in; I need to talk with him. If he can't work our way, then he can't work for us at all-he's too dangerous.” Gregg sighed and swung his legs over the side of the bed, rubbing at his neck. ”Anything else? What about the JJS? Have you managed to reach Miller for me?”
John shook his head. ”Nothing yet. There's talk that the jokers will march again today-same route and all, right past city hall. I hope he's not that stupid.”
”He'll march,” Gregg predicted. ”The man's hungry to be in the limelight. He thinks he's powerful. He'll march.”
The senator stood and bent over the television set. Cronkite went silent in midsentence. Gregg stared out the windows. From his vantage point in the Marriott's Ess.e.x House, he could look down at the green swath of Central Park caught between the towers of the city. The air was stagnant, unmoving, and the blue haze of pollution hid the further reaches of the park. Gregg could feel the heat even with the air-conditioning in the room. Outside, it would be sweltering once more. In the warrens of Jokertown, the day would be unbearable, rendering already quick-fused tempers even shorter.
”Yes, he'll march,” Gregg said again, softly enough that John did not hear it. ”Let's go to Jokertown,” he said, turning back into the room.
”The convention?” John inquired.
”They won't settle anything for days yet. That doesn't matter at the moment. Let's collect my shadows and get going.”
JOKERS! YOU'RE BEING DEALT A BAD HAND!.
-from a pamphlet handed out by JJS workers at the July 18th rally
Gimli exhorted the crowds under the brilliant noon sun. After the night of chaos in Jokertown, the mayor had put the city's police force on double s.h.i.+fts and canceled all leaves. The governor had placed the National Guard on standby. Patrols stalked the borders of the Jokertown district, and a curfew was imposed for the following night. The word that the JJS would attempt another march to Jetboy's Tomb had spread quickly through Jokertown the previous evening, and by morning, Roosevelt Park was swirling with activity. The police stayed away after two unsuccessful attempts to sweep the jokers out of the park resulted in broken heads and five injured officers. There were simply more of the jokers willing to march with the JJS than the authorities had predicted. The barricades were set in place on Grand Street once more, and the mayor harangued the a.s.sembled jokers via bullhorn. He was roundly jeered by those at the gates.
From the rickety dais they'd erected, Sondra listened to Gimli as the dwarf's strong voice swept the jokers up in its ferocity. ” ”YOU'VE BEEN TRAMPLED, SPAT UPON, REVILED LIKE NO OTHER PEOPLE IN HISTORY!” he exclaimed, and they screamed their agreement. Gimli's face was rapt, s.h.i.+ny with sweat, the coa.r.s.e strands of his beard dark with the heat. ”YOU'RE THE NEW n.i.g.g.e.rS, JOKERS. YOU'RE THE NEW SLAVES, THE ONES BEGGING FOR RELEASE FROM A CAPTIVITY NO WORSE THAN THAT OF THE BLACKS. n.i.g.g.e.rS. JEWS. COMMUNISTS. YOU'RE ALL THOSE THINGS TO THIS CITY, THIS COUNTRY!” Gimli flung an arm toward the ramparts of New York. ”THEY WOULD HAVE YOU STAY IN YOUR GHETTO; THEY WOULD HAVE YOU STARVE. THEY WANT YOU TO BE KEPT IN YOUR PLACE SO THEY CAN PITY YOU, SO THEY CAN DRIVE DOWN THE STREETS OF JOKERTOWN IN THEIR CADILLACS AND THEIR LIMOUSINES AND LOOK OUT THE WINDOWS, SAYING 'G.o.d, HOW CAN PEOPLE LIKE THAT STAND TO LIVE! LIVE!' ” The last word was a roar and it echoed through the park, all of the jokers rising to shout with Gimli. Sondra looked out on the ma.s.s of people, speckling the lawn under the glaring sun.
They'd all come out, the jokers, pouring from the streets of Jokertown. Gargantua was there, his immense body bandaged; Marigold, Flicker, Carmen, five thousand or more like them all behind. Sondra could feel the excitement pulsing as Gimli lectured them, his own bitterness snaking out like a poison into the air, infecting them all. No No, she wanted to say. No, you can't listen to him. Please. Yes, his words are full of energy and brilliance; yes, he makes you want to raise your fists and pump them skyward as you march with him. Still, can't you see that this is not the way? This is not the revolution. This is only the madness of a man No, you can't listen to him. Please. Yes, his words are full of energy and brilliance; yes, he makes you want to raise your fists and pump them skyward as you march with him. Still, can't you see that this is not the way? This is not the revolution. This is only the madness of a man. The words echoed in her mind, but she could not speak them. Gimli had caught her in his spell with the others. She could feel the arc of a smile on her chapped lips, and around her the other members of the cadre were yelling. Gimli stood at the front of the dais, his arms wide as the shouts became louder and louder, as a chant began to rise from the ma.s.sed throat of the crowd.
”Jokers' Rights! Jokers' Rights!”
The beat hammered at the waiting ranks of police, at the inevitable crowd of bystanders and reporters.
”Jokers' Rights! Jokers' Rights!”
Sondra heard herself saying it along with the others.
Gimli jumped down from the dais, and the burly dwarf began to lead them toward the gates. The crowd began to move, a mob with no pretense of order. They spilled out of Roosevelt Park from the gates into the side streets. Taunts were shouted toward the waiting line of police. Sondra could see the flas.h.i.+ng lights of the cruisers, could hear the drone of the trucks with the water cannon. That strange, undefinable roar she'd heard the day before was rising again, louder even than the continuing chant. Sondra hesitated, not knowing what to do. Then she ran toward Gimli, her legs aching. ”Gimli,” she began, but she knew the complaint was hopeless. His face was a leer of satisfaction as the protesters spilled from the park into the street. Sondra looked down toward the barricade, toward the line where the police waited.
Gregg was there.
He stood in front of the barricades, several officers and the secret service men with him. His s.h.i.+rtsleeves rolled up, his collar open and his tie loosened, he looked weary. For a moment, Sondra thought that Miller would march past the senator, but the dwarf stopped a few yards from the man-the marchers came to a ragged, uneasy halt behind him. ”Get the f.u.c.k out of the way, Senator,” Gimli insisted. ”Get out of the way or we'll just trample you underneath with all your G.o.dd.a.m.n guards and reporters.”
”Miller, this isn't the way.”
”There is is no other way, and I'm tired of talking about it.” no other way, and I'm tired of talking about it.”
”Please, let me talk just a few minutes more.” Gregg waited, glancing from Gimli to Sondra, to the others of the JJS in the crowd. ”I know you're bitter about what happened to the Jokers' Rights plank. I know that the way the jokers have been treated in the past is disgraceful. But dammit, things are changing. I hate to counsel you to have patience, but that's what this needs.”
”Time has run out, Senator,” Miller said. His mouth gaped open with a grin; the crowns of his teeth were dark and pitted.
”If you go forward, you'll guarantee a riot. If you'll go back to the park, I can keep the police from interfering any further.”
”And just what the h.e.l.l good does that do us, Senator? We'd like to rally at Jetboy's Tomb. That's our right. We'd like to stand on the steps and talk about thirty years of pain and torment for our people. We'd like to pray for the ones who died and let everyone see by looking at us just how G.o.dd.a.m.n lucky the ones who died were. That's all -we ask for the rights that any other normal person has.”
”You can do all of that in Roosevelt Park. Every one of the national papers, all the networks will cover it-that's a guarantee, as well.”
”That's all you have to bargain with, Senator? It ain't much.”
Gregg nodded. ”I know it, and I apologize for it. All I can say is that if you'll turn your people back into the park, I'll do what I can for you, for all of you.” Gregg spread his hands wide. ”That's all I can offer. Please, tell me that it's enough.”