Dawnslight

> > As I took in the strange sight, I realized something even odder. The glowing lights I’d seen on our approach didn’t come out of the windows of the skyscrapers; they came from the walls of the skyscrapers. Light shone in patches, bright and fluorescent, like the illumination from an emergency glowstick.

Glowing paint? That was what it seemed to be. I held to the side of the boat, frowning. This was not what I had expected. “Where are they getting their electricity?” I asked over the line.

“They aren’t,” Val said in my ear, whispering but fully audible to me. “There’s no electricity in the city other than in our own hidden base.”

“But the lights! How do they work?”

Suddenly the sides of our boat began to glow. I jumped, looking down. The glow came on like a dimmed light that slowly gained strength. Blue … paint. The side of the boat had been spraypainted. That was what was on the buildings too. Spraypaint … graffiti. In all its various colors, the graffiti was glowing vibrantly, like colored moss.

“How do the lights work?” Val said. “I wish I knew.” She slowed the boat, and we sailed between two large buildings. Their tops glowed and, squinting, I made out spraypainted boards rimming the roofs. They shone with vibrant reds, oranges, greens.

“Welcome to Babylon Restored, David,” Prof said from the prow. “The world’s greatest enigma.”

Chapter 9

“I’m from Manhattan,” Mizzy said, “born and raised. I don’t remember a whole lot of the early days, but I do remember Calamity. The glows came immediately afterward; anything spraypainted—old or new—started glowing. Only spraypaint works though. The plants started growing at the same time—they just grew in the streets back then—and nobody has a good explanation, except to credit Dawnslight.”

> Chapter 10 Page 72