City of Endless Night

47

Marsden Swope sat at the only desk in his tiny apartment. The time was six o’clock in the morning of January 3.

January 3. A date that would initiate the purification of the city.

He had no illusions. It would start small, he knew — if you could call so many pilgrims “small.” But he had a tool that prophets before him had not: the Internet. The one thing he had instructed his followers not to dispose of was their cell phones. They were critical for two reasons: first, they allowed him to orchestrate the logistics of the bonfire, and second, they would be able to document it.

What would start as a single act of purification in Manhattan would spread: to big cities and small towns, from America to Europe and beyond. The world, divided more than ever between the haves and have-nots, was hungry for this message. The people would rise up and unite to rid their lives of greed, materialism, and the ugly social divisions caused by money, forsaking wealth for a life of simplicity, purity, and honorable poverty.

But he must not get ahead of himself. He had paved the way, set things in motion — but now his next act was crucial. His followers, he knew, were awaiting his signal. The trick would be to get them to assemble on the Great Lawn at precisely the right moment, without alerting the authorities.

Turning back to his desk, he composed a tweet for his base: short, instructive, and to the point:

He read it over once, then again, and then — satisfied — posted it and sent it on its way. At three he would send his final instructions and then it would all be in God’s hands.