Obi-Wan hurried toward them. "I order you in the name of the government of Melida/Daan to disarm!" he called as he ran. He saw members of his squad hurrying toward the spot, their weapons at the ready. He made a signal to them to stand fast. If they started shooting, the Elders and Nield's forces would as well.
"You do not represent the government of Melida/Daan!" Nield shouted.
Obi-Wan's squad gathered around him. They looked from Nield to Obi-Wan, and he saw confusion on their faces. Obviously, Nield had reached some of them when he'd called Obi-Wan an outsider. Even Deila looked uncertain.
Ignoring their hesitation, Obi-Wan quickly gave orders for half the squad to surround the perimeter. At least he could prevent this battle from spilling out into the city core. He had to prevent any reinforcements from arriving. This confrontation could not escalate into war.
He walked slowly toward the groups. He could feel the turbulence in the air, the hot emotion. He knew that everyone was just a hair away from using their weapons.
"Move aside, Wehutti," Nield said. "We won the war. Let us do our work."
"We will not allow the desecration of our ancestors by a band of brats!" Wehutti thundered.
"We will not allow murderers to be treated as the honored dead!" Nield shouted back. He raised his blaster rifle. "Now move!"
Suddenly, the grate in the dry fountain opened, and Cerasi swung herself up and out. She began to run toward the middle of the two groups.
"No!" she shouted as she ran. "This cannot happen!"
"Cerasi!" With a cry, Obi-Wan sprang forward. At the same moment, shots rang out. In the confusion, Obi-Wan could not place where they came from.
But they hit their mark. Cerasi's eyes widened as the blaster fire ripped into her chest. Slowly, she sank to her knees. Obi-Wan reached her just as she fell backward, into his arms.
"Cerasi!" he cried.
Her green eyes were glazed.
"You'll be okay," he said frantically. "Can you hear me? You don't need luck. Cerasi!"
He held up his palm. She tried to raise her hand, but it fell back. Her eyes unfocused.
"No!" Obi-Wan screamed.
He felt for her pulse with shaking fingers. There was no beat of her blood, not even a flutter.
Agony ripped through him. He looked up at Nield and Wehutti. He couldn't form the words. It was as though he had forgotten how to speak.
Tears ran down his face as the pain grew and expanded to every corner of his brain, his heart. It seemed unbearable. His body could not hold this much pain. It would simply break apart. Yet he knew it was only the beginning.
The shock waves of Cerasi's death echoed through Zehava. She had been the symbol of peace. Her death became a symbol, too.
But it was not a symbol of reconciliation. Each side took her death and fashioned it to fit their own ends. For the Elders, she was a symbol of the irresponsibility and recklessness of the Young. For the Young, her tragic death was a symbol of the inflexible hatred of the Elders. Each group blamed the other for her death.
The Young and the Elders were more bitterly divided than ever. Though Wehutti and Nield were both in seclusion, their factions patrolled the streets, now openly armed. Each faction gathered more support every day. The rumor was that war was inevitable.
Obi-Wan knew that Cerasi would hate what her death had become: a reason to fight. But he could not begin to struggle with meanings and symbols. He could only grieve.
Nield had not attended Cerasi's funeral. Her ashes were now being stored in the Hall of Evidence where her parents' remains were.
Obi-Wan was alone. The loss of Cerasi was with him constantly. As soon as he opened his eyes he felt it. It was as though his bones had left his body, leaving an empty, yawning space. He wandered through the city streets, wondering how people could continue to eat, shop, live, when Cerasi was gone.
He relived the moment over and over. He asked himself why he hadn't run faster, or started toward her earlier, or anticipated that she would be there. Why couldn't he have caught the blaster fire?
Then he would see the shock in her crystal eyes as the fire hit her, and he would want to scream and pound the walls. Rage kept him as occupied as grief.
The loss of her presence hit him afresh from moment to moment. The knowledge that he'd never talk to her again made him ache. He missed his friend. He would always miss her. She had been a vivid presence in his life.
They still had so much left to say to each other.
So Obi-Wan kept on walking. He walked until he was exhausted, until he could barely see. Then he slept for as long as he could. As soon as he awoke, he began to walk again.
Days passed. He did not know how to climb out of this grief. Then one day he found himself at the plaza where Glory Street ended and Cerasi had died. Someone had hung up a banner and stretched it between two trees.
AVENGE CERASI CHOOSE WAR
Something snapped in Obi-Wan. He ran at the banner and jumped up to grab it. The material was hard to tear, but he kept at it, muscles aching, fingers stiff, until he had ripped it into tiny pieces.
Cerasi could not be used this way. He had to stop it. He had to take his grief and his love for her and fight to stop it.
He had to talk to Nield. No one else could help him.
Obi-Wan found him in the tunnels, in a room far away from the vault where they'd first met. It was a room they'd used for a short time as storage. Nield sat on a bench, his head down.
"Nield?" Obi-Wan entered the room hesitantly. "I've been searching for you."
Nield didn't look up. But neither did he ask Obi-Wan to leave.
"Our hearts are broken," Obi-Wan said. "I know that. I miss her. But if she could see what is happening, she would be furious. Do you know what I mean?"
Nield didn't answer.
"They're mobilizing for war and using Cerasi as a reason," Obi-Wan said. "We can't let that happen. It would violate everything she stood for.
We couldn't protect Cerasi when she was alive. But we can protect her memory."
Nield's head still hung down. Was his grief so huge that he couldn't hear Obi-Wan? Or had he reached him?
Then Nield looked up. Obi-Wan took a step backward. Instead of the grief he expected to see, Nield's face was twisted with rage.