8. The White KnightThe crimson light of a new day glowed through the bars of the holding cell window, opened to let the cool breeze come in. There was a distinct smell of cut grass on the air that Sabienn couldn’t pinpoint; unusual because he remembered a dusty compound in the surround. Next to him Bray stirred and they both roused themselves.
“This is the day,” said Bray darkly.
“Indeed, it is,” said Sabienn.
At that moment a distant horn blared; to Sabienn’s ear it reminded him of a conch shell blown on a beach long ago or a long and low resonant tone like that of a factory starter note. Sabienn and Bray looked at one another in confusion, but there was stirring in the adjoining cells as the black shirts they shared the station with, that had also shared the cells for sleep, came to l
