The Teacher

The Teacher: Part II Graduation Day, Chapter 25

Chapter 25

WE DIDN'T STAY TOO MUCH LONGER so as not to raise any suspicions about what we were planning. After putting some finishing touches on our posters, we folded them up and hid them under our coats so they wouldn't be noticed until we were all assembled in Raftalgar Square. Before leaving the den we settled a few last-minute details.

"All right...nothing out of the ordinary tomorrow. Everybody up and off to work on time, no chatting anyone up who might also be planning to attend the demonstration, and Birkhoff, don't risk sending out any more posts to latecomers who want to join in. They'll have to get their info by word of mouth. Can anyone think of anything else?" I squirmed, my jumbled thoughts swirling so that I was having trouble following a single subject.

"I hope everyone figures out a way to keep their signs from being noticed by the SMPs or our demonstration might end before it even gets started," Liza warned, her razor-sharp mind always thinking one critical deductive step ahead of everyone else.

"Absolutely—potentially a major problem! Birkhoff, send a follow-up post about keeping the posters concealed," I ordered, not that I was in charge, but I'd taken the lead and Liza and Birkhoff didn't seem to mind.

That done, we took our own advice and redesigned ours, turning them into banners so that we could replace the wooden stakes with twine. We then folded the signs so they would fit on our backs under our clothes and be completely concealed. We each wore a banner home, transferring them to our backpacks before heading off to work in the morning. Knowing the SMPs were fond of random backpack spot checks for anyone entering Raftalgar Square, before leaving work we put the banners under our clothes.

Walking alone to the square, I couldn't help but wonder who among the many other faces I was passing was also bravely carrying the concealed plow shares of change that might one day be used to cultivate a brave new world where all were free to pursue their dreams—and realize their inalienable right to a good and meaningful life.

Because of the posting, we'd only actually met a handful of the now many likeminded band of rebellious brothers and sisters we'd managed to recruit into our ranks.

Raftalgar Square was in the middle of the city so everyone managed to comfortably get there within a few minutes of the agreed upon time to begin the demonstration.

AFTER ARRIVING AND MIGRATING TO a central spot in the square, I noticed Birkhoff wearing a grey hoodie over camouflage cargo pants and black steel-toed army boots. When he saw me, I gave him a quick nod of recognition, but we'd decided to keep our distance so that in case one of us was arrested they wouldn't get our entire team.

Liza soon followed, sporting striped pink, purple, and blue hair, never sure what statement she was making, but she bravely strolled inside the gates acting as if she didn't have a care in the world and even flirting with the guards who briefly detained her to check the contents of her backpack. Approaching the appointed hour, it was clear to everyone, especially the SMPs stationed at the entrances of each government building, that something unusual was going on.

There was ten times the normal number of people milling about in the square. We all began to slowly congregate in front of the Justice Center. The Big Ben-like clock tower at the top of this monument to the Citadel culture of control began to chime a series of six gongs on the way to 6 o'clock. With the last bell, one-by-one we began to remove the banners from under our coats. Raising our arms in unison the defiant messages were clear for everyone to see...

Return Our Loved Ones

Cure the Weakness

End Tyranny

Give Us Our Freedom

We Demand Our Rights

Other than looks of stunned silence from bystanders, we didn't seem to be getting much of a reaction. Responding to the uneasy silence, from within our ranks a spontaneous chorus began singing our national anthem, dripping with disregarded pious rhetoric about how great our country is and describing our people as thriving because of the generosity of the government. During the singing we began moving in several giant concentric circles, slowly walking in opposite directions.

The other plebs in the square didn't know what was going on. Some sensed the potential danger and quickly left the area while braver souls gathered in closer to see what was happening. After all, nothing like this had ever happened in our Citadel-controlled world in our collective memory. Minutes had passed and still no obvious response from any government official. As soon as our banners went up, however, I noticed various SMPs on their cell phones kicking the peaceful, but terribly politically problematic incident up the ladder of their chain of command.

I could see Elizabeth and Birkhoff, but they weren't near me. It didn't matter because this was not about us anymore. We were part of a movement, a spark of democracy—something that never had and never would be tolerated by the Citadel's repressive regime. A single voice could be easily silenced, but a thousand voices—that was a much different problem for Citadel authorities. Ten minutes had passed and no official response to what we were doing. I could still see the SMPs frantically making and receiving calls in a panic for instructions on how to respond. Then, a single searing shot rang out from a high-powered rifle.

The reverberating echo was muffled by the resounding sounds of a thousand valiant voices. The victim quickly collapsed after the steel round slashed through her heart. Blood began to pool around her limp body. The demonstrators nearby tried to help, but there was nothing that could be done. Like tipping over that first domino, one-by-one the demonstrators realized that everyone's worst fears were about to be realized. In shock, and now quiet and frozen, we all waited for whatever violent madness was going to come next.

WE'D HOPED THAT OUR PROTEST MIGHT be tolerated and even more, would lead to some kind of dialog with authorities to promote the needed changes as we saw them. That hope was dashed when the next shot rang out, the sound now exploding over the crowd's silence. Like a herd of deer caught in the sights of a heartless hunter, after the first fatality we all ran for our lives when the machine guns opened in relentless rapid fire from the roofs of the surrounding buildings.

The SMPs on the ground had been given orders to block our escape, but they didn't have time to erect barricades. Most of them were run over by the crush of the crazed demonstrators. Unfortunately, many innocent bystanders were also cut down in the brutal assault. Stepping over bodies, I frantically made my way to an exit where I could see the guards had been bowled over. I made it successfully to the street with a group of other demonstrators.

Hearing the unmistakable sound of police car sirens in hot pursuit, we paused, took one brief look at each other, and scattered like rats in different directions, getting off the streets and into the convoluted system of back alleys and sewers to avoid detection.

RAFTALGAR SQUARE WAS LITTERED with bloodied bodies, broken shredded banners, and the murdered hopes of our oppressed generation. The decision to put down the demonstration came from the top, Chancellor Cain, inside the Citadel who personally gave the order which is why it took so long before they began firing.

Making my way back to den, the place we agreed to meet if anything went wrong, I spotted several helicopters swooping down and detaining just about anyone they found on the streets. I moved slowly, carefully, kept out of sight, and eventually was able to sneak into the entrance leading to the den.

I never felt so alone or terrified. In the mass panic of the moment I couldn't see what happened to Liza and Birkhoff. I had no way of knowing whether they escaped, were killed, or were perhaps captured. All I could do was wait and hope they showed up. Exhausted beyond any mundane thoughts of being hungry or wanting to wash the grime and sweat off of my spent body, I collapsed onto our couch and despite the background shrieks of sirens relentlessly scouring the streets for rebels, within minutes was thankfully no longer conscious.