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.
After they had walked for a while Michelle leaned into his arm. “This might be real,” she said. “It really, truly might.”
“Isn’t that the point?”
“Yeah, but ... it’s always seemed like kind of a pipe dream, you know? Like something we wanted to happen but not necessarily something that would. Or something that I could help bring about. But now, it seems like it’s all those things.”
“You definitely helped bring it about,” he assured her, happily inhaling her scent.
“I know. It feels funny.” She laughed, then released him and did a pirouette in the street. “I’m a star.”
“A star of the revolution,” Kyle agreed. “George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, and you.”
“Wrong revolution,” she said, wrinkling her nose at him. “But right idea.” The smile vanished from her face again. “What if it’s a bad idea?”
“What, revolution?” Kyle asked. He had struggled with the concept many times himself. Maybe armed conflict wasn’t the way to change social conditions here.
“What if history is effectively over?” she wondered. “I mean, maybe the time for revolution was hundreds and hundreds of years ago. The universe is a different place now. What impact might an upheaval on Hazimot have on inter-galactic trading partners, on the Federation?”
“Well, Hazimot’s never going to be accepted into the Federation without some serious changes,” Kyle pointed out. “As for the timing—I think each planet has to move forward on its own timetable, regardless of what’s going on elsewhere. Obviously conditions in Cyre are egregious, and the rest of the planet’s not much better, if at all. If it’s time for revolution here, then it’s time. You can’t worry about how people who’ve never set foot on the planet are going to feel about it.”
“Good answer.” Michelle beamed at him. “That’s why I love you, Joe,” she said. “You’re always thinking.”
“It’s what I do best.”
“Second best,” she corrected, leaning in for a kiss.
She broke the kiss when they both felt the ground shudder, and not in the good way. They froze in place and listened. A low rumbling sound infiltrated their consciousness now, growing nearer. “What is it?” Kyle asked.
“I’m not sure, but I don’t like it,” she replied. “It sounds like ... like trouble. At the least.”
The mood of the neighborhood changed as the sound increased. Over the rumble they could hear a voice now, broadcast through some kind of loudspeaker, repeating the same brief message over and over. People came running past them, fear glinting in their eyes. Kyle grabbed one by the shoulders, stopping him from his mad dash. “What is it?” Kyle demanded. “What’s going on?”
“Troops,” the Cyrian said, his eyes wide with fright. “Lots of them.” He broke away from Kyle’s grasp and kept running.
“No ...” Michelle’s lower lip began to tremble. “They can’t ... it’s too soon.”
“They can,” Kyle countered. “It’s not what I would do because it’ll increase public resentment against them. But if they can put an end to the revolution immediately, before it gets off the ground, then they might not care what the populace thinks.”
“But we’re not ready,” Michelle said. “Nobody is.”
“That’s precisely the point of it,” Kyle told her. “To make sure nobody gets ready.”
The closer the troops came, the louder the sound of their machines of war. The ground was literally shaking now, buildings vibrating. A bit of stone fell off one nearby and exploded into dust on the ground.
“What are we going to do?” Michelle asked. “We need to find the others.”
“No,” Kyle said. “Not just now. Not with those soldiers nearby. The last thing you want to do is to congregate in one place. Then they can simply take out the leadership all at once.”
“You’re right,” Michelle said. “Let’s just go home and wait it out.”
With no better plan coming to him, Kyle agreed to that, and they started back toward the building in which they both lived. As they reached their street, though, the first troops were coming into view, around a bend. They wore full battle armor, black and gray with gold trim, and carried rifles. Locals stood on the streets and watched them march. Behind them, the vehicles hove into sight, massive troop carriers and battle tanks. Unlike most Hazimotian vehicles these didn’t float a short distance off the ground but rolled forward on gigantic wheels that tore up the old streets of The End as they came.