Beside Hofburg Square, Lucas walked over to a tricolor flag that fleeing citizens had knocked down. Humming "The Song of Departure," he bent down and propped it back up.
In the open ground not far away, five or six hundred National Guard recruits who had just completed training stood assembled in a disorderly mass.
Lucas had just read the War Committee's report. This should have been the last batch of recruits that could be sent to the front.
Against the tens of thousands of Russian and Austrian troops, they were no more than a breeze too faint to notice.
Two French Gem IV carriages raced past on a nearby street. Lucas remembered that they belonged to Councilor Erich's family. He shook his head. Less than a third of the councilors had attended yesterday's Parliament session. Some had gone to Konstanz half a month ago to "lead the revolution."
The Gem IV carriage in the rear suddenly turned back and stopped.
Councilor Bergman jumped from the carriage and hurried over, saying anxiously, "God! Lucas, why are you still here?"
Lucas drove the flagpole firmly into the ground and replied with mild surprise, "Of course I'm here. Where else would I be?"
Bergman pointed at the carriage behind him and urged, "Quick! Don't bother packing either. I know you don't have much in the way of possessions. There happens to be an empty seat in the carriage."
Lucas shook his head and continued humming the stirring tune.
Bergman grabbed his shoulder and pleaded, "Come on. Once we reach Konstanz, there'll still be hope."
"Hope..."
Lucas repeated the word softly, but his mind involuntarily returned to that night last year. In the ink-scented basement of the Stilz Society, Gloria had stood behind a battered printing press, her apron covered in ink. Waving the