The Wabbit and Wabsworth strolled all the way along Via Nizza from Lingotto and turned left to cross to Via Sacchi. They were bantering about the city and how it had changed. The Wabbit recalled when there was no metro and Tram Number One went all the way from Porta Nuova station to Lingotto. Being an android copy, Wabsworth did have a memory of that - but it belonged to the Wabbit. So he ran a small programme that brought everything from these days to life. "It smells different," he said. "The metro cut down the traffic," replied the Wabbit. Cars and buses thundered past and across the junction. "Oh really," said Wabsworth. He ran the programme again and shook his head. "Perhaps," he commented. They waited patiently to cross the road. Wabsworth knew the Wabbit liked to pause on the big bridge on Corso Germano Sommeiller and watch the trains - and he grinned because he liked that too. A gap appeared in the traffic and they stated to make their way across. But without warning all traffic screeched to a halt. The road was a sea of red stop lights. Even bikes stopped and remained strangely upright. The Wabbit and Wabsworth looked all round. Drivers sat rigid in their cars, eyes staring at the traffic signals. "What gives?" said the Wabbit. "Maybe their batteries gave out," snickered Wabsworth. The silence was like a heavy blanket. The Wabbit wanted to yell but found he couldn't. "Well something's up, all right. Let's get help," said the Wabbit. So together they set off to hop through a frozen city ...
