“We’re all nervous,” she told them. “It’s not just you guys, but everyone who’s participating today. After this, everything changes. There will be no backing down, no fading back into the shadows. After today, we overthrow the council or we die trying. So if any of you want to change your mind and give up, now’s the time to do it. Your last chance.”

They watched her as she spoke, their faces rapt or frightened or both. A couple of them said, “I’m staying in,” and one, who Michelle knew only as Cividon, said, “It’s about time.” No one chose to withdraw, for which Michelle was glad.

“Let’s get into place, then,” she suggested. The others agreed and they moved out, toward the parade route.

The parade was slated to run for twenty blocks, or about two kilometers, with a couple of right angles along the way and then a last sweep up the wide, gently curving arc of Epindeis Way, named for one of Cyre’s most famous military victories over its longtime foe Taleraa. Michelle’s group went to the last right turn before the final march up Epindeis, arriving just as the parade passed that point. They saw soldiers marching in full uniform, with helmets on and weapons in hand, and among the soldiers various armored ground vehicles. Behind the soldiers were bands playing uniquely Hazimotian instruments—since arriving here and deciding to stay, Michelle had tried and tried but had never quite been able to comprehend what the Hazimotians considered musical, and the racket they made just seemed like an assault on the ears. Various minor officials brought up the very rear. At the end, far up on Epindeis Way, there was a reviewing stand from which the council members and other luminaries watched the proceedings, and where the induction ceremony would take place as soon as the parade ended.

Now the parade, nearly eight blocks long in total, was entirely on Epindeis Way, which meant it was almost time for the fun to start. Police lined the parade route but after the marchers passed, their attention waned and spectators were allowed to cross the street. Nothing to do now but wait. Michelle felt her own knees shaking with anxiety now, as the moment to act grew ever nearer.

The minutes dragged by.

Finally, there was a commotion at the end. She could barely see what was happening, but they’d been over it often enough in the committee that she knew it anyway. One unit of counter-marchers had suddenly confronted the parade’s head with signs bearing slogans like “The Council’s Corrupt” and “Feed Your Children, Not Council Greed,” and chanting. Another unit had activated smoke devices and hurled them under the reviewing stand—even now, Michelle could begin to see gray and yellow plumes swirling up from the crowd. Yet another on that end exploded noise-making devices—not bombs that would do any damage, but that would leave people’s ears ringing for a good long time. Finally, the last group, already shackled together, would chain themselves to the reviewing stand so that the induction ceremony couldn’t begin until the police had, very publicly, arrested them and hauled them away.

Michelle and her unit were responsible for the finishing touch. As soon as she knew that things had started on the far end of Epindeis, she ordered her troops into action. Three of them squatted on the ground at the parade route’s edge, a wire reel in each hand. The other three grabbed the ends of the wires and ran across the street, trailing wire behind them. Once they’d reached the other end of the street, they also squatted, so six threadlike, nearly invisible wires were strung across the parade route at about knee height. As expected, when the commotion began near the reviewing stand, the minor officials and bands and many of the police officers and soldiers on this end tried to turn and run the other way, distancing themselves from the trouble. But the first ones who ran—the politicians, mostly—found themselves tripped up on the wire. Michelle laughed out loud at seeing so many hated politicos going ass over teakettle onto Epindeis Way.

And the more who came this way, backtracking or retreating from the fireworks at the far end, the greater the pileup. The musicians, carrying their bizarre instruments, tripped over downed politicians. Soldiers and police officers fell over both, trying not to shoot themselves or anyone else as they did so. By this point, Michelle’s teammates had released the wires, which spun silently back into their reels, their work done. No one would know why so many had fallen, now, but they’d look like a bunch of buffoons to the spectators. Buffoons and cowards, for running in the first place.

The council had been publicly embarrassed, and the world would now know that there was an organized opposition. Things would turn ugly now, and blood would spill, but that would be the council’s doing, not theirs. They had begun with a comedy, and the government’s response to it would launch the tragedy.

From such a small seed, a revolution would grow.

Chapter 24

Kyle had never seen Michelle quite so jubilant. It looked good on her; but then, there wasn’t much that didn’t. Maybe the gloom that descended on her like lowering storm clouds sometimes, when-she came face-to-face with those parts of her past that were too painful to recall, the things she had come to Hazimot to run away from. But those moods were rare. She had not, Kyle decided, let tragedy destroy her. She used it, even now, to spur her on to action, as she had done today. He’d watched the whole thing in a neighborhood tavern just outside The End, where the interruption of the parade had at first drawn horrified gasps but then acceptance and finally raucous laughter as the city’s minor, unloved officials fell all over each other trying to run away.

He had gone home after that, arriving just a few minutes before Michelle burst in wearing a smile that involved her entire body, from the spring of her step to the way she shook her head, whipping her hair out to the sides. “It was fabulous!” she gushed. “Did you see, Joe?” Even in private, she still called him Joe, to make sure she didn’t slip up with others around.

“I saw,” he assured her. He held out his arms and she rushed into them, laughing. “You were great. All of you.”

“We were, weren’t we?” A momentary glimmer of dread passed over her face. “Some got arrested, though.”

“They were supposed to,” Kyle reminded her. That had been discussed, in great depth, at some of the meetings. Arrests were certain at this early stage. It was when the government stopped arresting and started killing that things would get really difficult.

“No, I mean of the ones who weren’t supposed to. At least, one was, from my group. Maybe others I don’t know about.”

“We knew that could happen.”

“Yes, we did, didn’t we?” The smile was back. She was so charged up, holding her was like hanging on to a live wire. “I am sorry they were caught, but even so ... even so, it was a huge success, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it?”

“I believe it was,” he told her. “You did what you set out to do. It doesn’t get much better than that.”

“One thing could make it better,” she said, holding his gaze with her clear eyes.

He didn’t know what she meant, and said so.

“This,” she whispered, and kissed his chin, then his cheek, then his lips. At the same time, she began to move her hands all over his body. “I feel so ... so ready. So hungry,” she said.

Now that he thought about it, so did he.

Much later, they went back into the streets. There was a notable difference now that Kyle could feel with all of his senses. It might pass again, he knew, but for the moment people seemed excited, optimistic. They greeted one another as they passed, exchanging grins that seemed fraught with the promise of better things to come. They passed clusters of people standing together, talking about the morning’s events, discussing what they might mean in the short and long term. Michelle and Kyle strolled, hand in hand, not engaging anyone in dialogue but simply soaking up the atmosphere. The mood was celebratory and it fed into Michelle’s already elevated state.