Now he had almost drifted off into slumber. He always found this half-awake time most pleasant for dreaming. Then he could conjure visions of the old days, of the lost cities with the beat of their traffic pulse and the winking kaleidoscope of their electric lights, and the driving madness of their people which kept them seething with activity around the clock. He never traveled to the deserted cities himself as youngsters like Johnny Hope did, because their crumbling masonry and bomb-scarred streets saddened him. And besides, the Robots had taken over many of the cities and since no one had ever bothered to tabulate them, you were never sure when a city was deserted and when it was not. Better to dream of the old days....
"DeReggio! Wake up."
It was Sheldon Hope, his old comrade-in-arms, who had fought halfway across a world with him while civilization crumbled to ruin all about them.
"Shel ... Shell, boy."
"Wake up, DeReggio. It's Johnny Hope."
DeReggio sat bolt-upright, circles of light floating on blackness before his eyes from too much sun. "Johnny! Go away. They'll kill you if they find you here. Are you crazy? Keep away from me." DeReggio stood up and backed off, watching Johnny. "You have no business coming here. You—"
DeReggio saw the shining knees, the silver elbows. "The Plague. You survived it. You're a—"
"Shining One," Johnny finished for him as the mayor's voice trailed off.
"A carrier, that's even worse."
"I was hoping I would find you here. I knew I couldn't go down into Hamilton. You haven't much time."