Jill Winton stood among the nervous throng, watching just like everyone else. She was a student at the university in Weston, but her class had emptied into the streets, as most of the city had done. She’d been drawn out by the same curiosity that brought everyone else there, but she was distracted with her own thoughts. She’d been ecstatic that morning when she got the transmission - her application to the Naval Academy had been accepted. But then she faced the realization that she’d have to tell her father, and that was something she dreaded.
Jack Winton had been a naval officer, and Jill had never understood why he’d always been so against his daughter’s desire to follow in his footsteps. Whatever his reasons, he was vehemently against the idea, and every time she mentioned it they had a massive argument. He didn’t even know she’d applied. It was the only thing they ever fought about; otherwise they had a very close relationship. Her mother had died when she was young, and since then it had been just the two of them…and Winton Transport, the company she was supposed to take over one day. She loved her father and respected his accomplishments, but the thought of spending all day every day moving other people’s stuff around made her crazy.
She was roused from her circumspection by a loud tone, followed by a voice emanating from the speakers. “Attention all citizens.” The voice was loud and harsh. “Attention all citizens. Stand by for an address from the Planetary Governor.”
Planetary Governor? Jill’s attention snapped away from her problems with her father. This doesn’t sound good, she thought. What is he talking about? What is a Planetary Governor? She could feel her stomach clench with tension…with fear.
“Citizens of Columbia, this is Arlen Cooper, formerly your Planetary Advisor. As of 0700 this morning I have assumed the position of Planetary Governor.” A stunned murmur rose from the assembled crowds.
“Last night a group of outlaws illegally seized possession of the militia armory outside of Weston. When challenged by duly authorized law enforcement officials, they opened fire, killing 29 Federal Police. The offenders subsequently escaped with a considerable stock of stolen weapons.” He paused, allowing the crowd to absorb what he had said.
“This kind of lawlessness and brutality will not be tolerated. At 0710 this morning I declared Columbia to be in a state of insurrection against the lawful government of the Alliance.” His voice was becoming louder, harsher. “As a result, and until the offending parties are apprehended, I have implemented a series of necessary measures.”
The confused babble of the crowd began to change, turning darker, angrier. “One, effective immediately, the entire planet of Columbia is under martial law. The planetary constitution and all its provisions are suspended. Two, the Planetary Assembly is hereby disbanded. All representatives are ordered to disburse and return to their homes. Any who fail to comply will be arrested.”
The crowd became louder and started to surge toward the center of the square, pressing harder against the barricades. “Three, a curfew is in effect until further notice. All citizens are to remain in their homes from the hours of 1900 through 0700 the following day.” The curfew period covered virtually all of the non-working hours of Columbia’s 27 hour day. “Any citizens performing legitimate jobs outside of these hours must register and obtain a permit. Violators will be subject to arrest and further punitive action.”
Jill was stunned at what she was hearing, and she could feel the anger in the crowd around her. It was becoming something animated, something uncontrollable. She was in the middle of the surging mass, and she started to make her way someplace less packed.
“Four, until all insurrectionists have been arrested, communications shall be monitored and controlled. The information network will be limited to government announcements and a select list of allowable data. All other access will be blocked. Until further notice, the interstellar transmission network is closed to private use.”
My God, Jill thought, Columbia is completely cut off. Is this really happening? She was getting really scared. There had been a lot of talk about rebellion, about independence. People found it relatively easy to speak of such things and make bold declarations, but now they were getting a glimpse of the reality that road entailed. She just wanted to go home, but she couldn’t get anywhere in the seething, angry mass.
“Further announcements will be posted each day on the information net. All citizens are responsible for knowing and obeying these rules. No disruption will be tolerated.” Cooper paused for half a minute, but the crowd’s screams just kept getting louder.
“The criminals responsible for last night’s horrific attack had scouts and allies in Weston, warning them of the movements of the Federal officers they ambushed. We have apprehended two of them.” Cooper stopped talking, but from the front of the crowd, closest to the square, an enraged howl started. In the square itself, two men in civilian clothing were walking toward the base of the Star of Hope monument. They were led forward, flanked by guards with an officer behind each.
The crowd sensed what was coming, and they surged forward, over the barricades toward the line of federal troops standing between them and the captives. The Feds lowered their weapons, aiming into the crowd. “Anyone who advances past the barricades will be shot.” It was a new voice on the speaker, the federal commander in the square.
The mob hesitated, uncertain, those in the front looking out over the leveled assault rifles of the police. In the square, the two prisoners were pushed down to their knees, their heads shoved forward and down. The officers put their pistols against the back of their captives’ heads. A second later the two kneeling men jerked forward and fell, though the sounds of the shots were drowned out by the roaring crowd.
A collective gasp rose from the front ranks of the mob. The crowd stood frozen in place for a few seconds then surged forward, screaming, knocking the barricades aside. They’d run just a few steps when the line of police opened fire. All along the front of the crowd, men and women crumpled and fell, the wounded trampled by those behind who continued ahead. The police fired again into the enraged mob and then a third time before the boiling mass stopped coming.
The wave of panic started at the head of the crowd and moved back rapidly. Those in front turned and tried to flee, running into and climbing over those behind. In seconds the mob turned into a confused, hysterical mass. All through the streets, people were stampeding, screaming, and trying to get away from the park. Jill was caught in the maelstrom and almost trampled. Her bag was torn from her shoulder as she pushed her way toward the outer districts of the city and relative safety.
In the square, the line of federal troops continued to fire, though the mob was fleeing and no longer approaching them. By the time the crowd had dispersed from the area of the square, the ground was littered with dead and wounded. The troops formed up and marched out of the square, leaving the injured to lie where they were.
Arlen Cooper sat at his desk watching the whole thing on his monitor. He had a sadistic smile on his face. After months of putting up with arrogant colonists making his life miserable, he finally had the power to squeeze their insolence out of them. He had seethed at their refusal to respect his authority; now he could strike back. He’d hoped the crowd would give him an excuse to show them just how much things had changed, and he had deliberately provoked them. He was thrilled they had obliged.
Still, he was slightly unnerved by the ferocity of the mob. These people were nothing like the meek middle classes he’d terrorized back in New York. He was surprised when they charged the line of police, and even more so when they kept coming after the first volley. For an instant he was afraid they’d tear his troops apart with their bare hands. There was an insanity – his prejudices wouldn’t let him consider it courage – in these colonists, and there was nagging doubt behind his arrogance.