[Joe kicked the motorcycle's engine back to life. He 
spun the bike and raced towards the city. Passing under 
the cold glow of screen after menacing screen. Reports 
coming in of an incident in the outer rim. Reports of 
an armed assailant. Reports of a growing threat to 
public safety.

Choir:
Climb.

Joe tore through the streets. A missile aimed at the 
metal spire towering above the city. The great steel 
arm holding a torch of fear. The main telescreen was 
designed to be visible from almost anywhere in the 
city. The destruction of that screen would be felt by 
every man and every woman in the city. He thought of 
the children. How, for the first time, they would know 
a world without that screen. Without the constant, 
mind-numbing barrage of misinformation. Silence. Had he 
ever encountered silence? Soon.

Climb.

The street was ending. Joe revved the engine. No 
hesitation. No fear. The motorcycle bounded over the 
curb, launched off the steps in front of the tower, and 
landed jarringly upon the hard, slick marble of the 
plaza. Losing traction, the tires skidded out ahead of 
the heavy iron frame. The bike pitched. Joe kicked hard 
against the bike. Inertia kept him glued to it. He 
rolled over on to his stomach and clawed frantically at 
the smooth marble, trying to slow himself.

Climb to the top of the world.

The bike would not be slowed. It slid rapidly toward 
the main entrance. The steel doors secured tightly for 
the evening. The wheels caught on the final few steps 
leading up to the doors. The bike spun upright and left 
the marble floor. 600 pounds of iron and chrome roared, 
end over end, towards the entrance, crashed into the 
steel doors, and exploded. Joe's momentum halted just 
inches from the steps. Sirens erupted around him.


He pushed himself to his feet and ran towards the 
flames. Hurdling the mangled carcass of the bike, he 
entered the tower lobby and headed for the stairs. 
Flight after flight, Joe took two and three steps at a 
time. His chest nearly collapsed under the strain. His 
legs never hesitated. Finally, he reached the door 
leading to the roof. Joe kicked hard and stepped into 
the cool night air. He had to act quickly. He threw his 
bag down next to the transmitter. Reaching inside, he 
wrapped his hands around the detonator. Holding it 
tightly, he turned and started back to the stairs.

That when you fall...

He'd taken three long strides when the explosion ripped 
his feet from the tarred roof. Joe didn't hear the 
explosion. The shock wave of the blast knocked him 
unconscious instantaneously.

You will fall from a height most men will never reach.

Light had nearly reached the plaza. He watched as the 
flames erupted from the top of the shimmering tower, 
setting aglow the clouds above. Among the debris cast 
off the bulding by the explosion, he spotted what could 
only be a human body, twisting lifelessly as it 
plummeted towards the earth. Light held onto the hope 
that the falling body was not the one he feared it must 
be. As it approached the ground, Light's fears were 
confirmed as he made out the glare of the flames above 
reflected in a scarred blast shield. He watched as 
Joe's body landed with a dull thump upon the small 
patch of grass in a courtyard on the south side of the 
building.

By the time Light had reached the boy's body, a crowd 
had gathered. As he stood in the center of the circle 
of onlookers, another explosion rattled the ground. 
Then another. And another. In the distance he could 
see, one by one, the telescreens splintering and 
erupting into flames.]