For a few months, the streetlights dimmed in sheets. Grids folded themselves down and backup generators faltered. Years ago, in other cities, the lamps had been replaced by flaming torches, held aloft by fearful mobs and, later, staked in the ground calmly, by the remaining few that were resigned to their fate. But not here. That was all over. In dimming waves of gentle quiet, the night reclaimed the cobblestones. Until finally, all but one had surrendered. All but one, atop a steep hill beside an empty wooden house, watching the city fall asleep, its only company the gentle hum of its dynamo.