“Yes. Security is here. As determined as the Maskirovka to enforce their own idea of free speech.” Mai cautiously tread a thin line now, invoking the name of the Confederation’s feared secret police agency. Did people see that they had given up one type of oppression for another? At least the Confederation was not hypocritical about it.

A few in the crowd picked up on the idea, or something close to it. Or maybe they were just charged up enough to vent their anger at the nearest authority. Punches and kicks were thrown again, and the police used their clubs. Some uniformed infantrymen backed up the small cadre of security personnel, helping them force their way forward toward the impromptu stage in the shadow of the impotent Men Shen.

“That’s right,” Mai encouraged. “The military does not serve in spite of the people, but in support of them. Citizens… residents… they are supposed to represent the best interests of all. How many of you feel your right to free speech, to your culture and its millennia-old heritage, threatened right now? Do you welcome the appearance of soldiers, of stormtroopers? Is this the military you yourselves have worked so hard to become a part of?”

They had almost reached the pedestal. “Will it be another twenty years before I am allowed to speak to you again?”

It might. Or longer, depending on the exact laws the local authorities tried to charge him under.

Mai Wa knew a moment’s hesitation as a burly sergeant grabbed the microphone cord and ripped the device from him. Hands fastened onto his legs, pulling him off the stage, down into the grasp of the authorities. Now Evan! Release your dogs now! He saw his onetime apprentice standing off to one side with the large boy named Parks, holding back Hahn who no doubt had planned to end today’s rally also being led away. Where was Greggor? Where were Evan’s people?

Kept out of harm’s way, Mai realized. Not risked in such an open environment as this, the better to keep the cover from under which they operated. Evan had made certain to protect his organization at the risk to his old mentor. Damn him.

He had learned too well.

But then, Mai had other tools in his hands now, didn’t he? He leaned his head back. “Yóng yuăn— ”

“Liào Su¯n Z˘ı!” The crowd roared and jostled forward, shouting the name of the old Capellan Chancellor.

Mai prompted them again and again, struggling in the grip of soldiers who tried to muzzle him with their large, strong hands. They hauled him up off the ground, carrying him overhead where hundreds could see him carry on his struggle. One foot broke free and kicked a policeman in the head. A baton smashed back in response, striking him in the hip, in the arm. A rib broke as a second baton joined the first, snapping with exquisite pain, stabbing him with every breath.

Then a solid tap struck him just over his right ear, and there wasn’t much struggle left in him after that. He sagged limply in the grips of the infantrymen, the fight gone out of him… and placed instead into the hearts and minds of the mob.

With a wounded roar the crowd of students and civilians, soldiers and cadets, surged forward to reach the small knot of security personnel trapped in the Men Shen’s shadow. The world swung dizzily around Mai Wa, but he knew, he knew.

Jeeps blared horns and gunned their engines as they moved from nearby streets onto the grounds themselves, coming to the aid of the besieged group. Warning shots were fired, barking into the air and adding to the chaos. More fighting broke out as the mob turned their anger on their nearest pro-Republic brother. Mai knew he was in the hands of professionals, that they would somehow get him clear of the sudden riot and that he would answer for his actions very soon, but even in his half-stunned state he felt the rise of true anti-Republic sentiment, and found hope in the madness.

The true liberation of Liao had struck its first blow.

Yiling (Chang-an)

Qinghai Province, Liao

21 June 3134

Evan Kurst dodged away from the budding riot, sidestepping a placard swung in his direction by a Republic supporter. Evan grabbed the end of the placard and pulled the other cadet in toward him. A side-hand chop to the neck stunned his opponent. Then he grabbed both shoulders and used his full weight to throw the other man over his hip, laying the Republican straight into the side of the Guardian’s pedestal. He’d wake up with one hell of a headache, but it put him out of Evan’s way and out of danger from the fury of the mob.

Large groups began to break away from the riot now, looking for opportunity or mischief. Some headed toward the Conservatory entrance and the YiCha suburbs. Others moved toward the dorms and lecture halls to spread word of the unrest. Some carried police or military weapons. Hundreds swarmed across Evan’s path as he fought his way after Mai Wa. Hahn and David were lost in the crowd, and he hadn’t seen Jenna since she’d helped a bleeding cadet over to the ambulances. Mark Lo disappeared right about the time all hell broke loose—looking for Jen, probably.

That left Evan alone and trying to decide how best to help his former mentor.

Part of him smoldered with resentment, that the freedom fighter had used his friends so blatantly. He considered leaving the man to his captors. That was the selfish side of Evan Kurst. The practical side spoke louder, and that side worried about the damage Mai could cause to the Ijori Dè Guāng if forced to talk.

Also, Evan did not like to waste potential resources. Whatever Mai’s personal reasons for leaving and now returning to Liao, he had connections and had proven in the past a reliable source of information and equipment. The way things were looking on Liao, they might need both.

“Evan!” A hand clamped down hard on his shoulder, spun him around. He grabbed the hand, twisted, then caught himself before he broke Mark’s wrist.

“Hey, easy. It’s me.” His friend shook life back into his arm. “Jen’s disappeared. Can you help me find her?”

“We have bigger problems,” Evan said, trying to spot an open path to chase after the knot of security. They had chosen a perfect route, damn it, right through a large knot of Republic supporters who gave their all to hold back the mob. “Those militiamen have radios. We’re going to see a lockdown of the campus in twenty minutes or less. People are going to get hurt really bad.” Find Mai Wa, and stop the riot. His list was short, but daunting.

“And Jen is out there in that mess somewhere,” Mark shouted.

“Jenna can take care of herself.”

“Jenna is stealing a jeep,” David said, jogging up with a field radio clamped against his ear.

Mark and Evan stared at him, at each other. “She what?” they both asked, nearly at the same time.

“She said we need to find a way to get a handle on this fast, before the local militia commander decides to pull a Kang.” Legate Kang. The man who had helped trigger the student uprising of five years before, rolling in with tanks and armored infantry. “She thought we might need some wheels.”

“We may be beyond avoiding a Kang,” Evan said, “but a well-commanded mob is better than an unruly one.” An idea glimmered at the back of his mind. “First, we’ll need something to grab their attention.” He looked back the way he’d come, past the frozen profile of the Men Shen.