System 2.0 - Division of Powers

Three Beginnings 2

Crowds had been gathering in the city throughout the morning. The streets and cafes were packed with people; many in bright clothes or carrying coloured banners.

Only seventy thousand protesters had been allowed in the Piazza san Pietro itself, but estimates varied as to how many visitors had descended on the city. The Vatican said that a million people were marching, while the organisers put the figure closer to six - counting those who were camped out in the various parks and fields. One way or another, it was a substantial event, and nobody was arguing with that.

Marco smiled as he looked out at the stream of people pushing in along the Via della Conciliazione. There was a real festival atmosphere in the city, and the police were taking a low key approach to crowd control.

He adjusted his sunglasses to cut off the midday sun. Weeks of planning had gone into this day and he was fully intending to enjoy it. The hard work was over, it was now a case of letting events take their course.

He nodded to the camera crew who were setting up their equipment on the corner furthest from the Piazza. They were hoping to get some overhead shots of the crowd. They seemed happy with their position, so he waved and stepped out into the throng.

It was a good natured crowd, but he had to wave his security badge a few times and simply push through. He would have been stuck there until sunset otherwise. A tall feli-form bared his teeth when Marco tapped him on the shoulder, but he defused the situation with a smile and a friendly gesture. The cat-faced man quickly became less hostile and stepped aside deftly. This was not a day for discord.

Huge screens had been erected on the side of the boulevard. They hung down limply from the lamp-posts and their edges flapped gently in the warm air. A succession of faces were appearing overhead as speakers took their turn at the podium. Some were distinctly human in appearance, but the organisers had been keen to have as many obvious exotics as possible.

Marco remembered the conversation.

'It doesn't matter what they look like,' Maria del Astro had insisted. 'Appearance is cosmetic. Anyone can change their DNA patterns. The key issue is whether a person has original human ancestry or not.'

Others had taken a different angle. Marco was happy either way, but he understood the value of colour for media impact.

'This is about diversity,' Reno had argued. 'We want people to feel a sense of inclusion. That's why we're pushing for rainbows. That's why we need people to see what we mean.'

The fruits of this discussion were now appearing on the Vatican steps. There were blue skins and green scales, furry faced beasts and strange creatures that barely resembled homo-sapiens at all. The speakers, like the crowd, embodied the chaotic variety of life that claimed the name 'human'.

Marco had nearly reached the square when the most anticipated speaker was announced. Rather than push on, he decided to stop and watch with the others.

There was a hush as the cameras panned across the crowd, taking in the view of the stage over the tops of heads and banners. It was like a rock concert rather than a protest march and the sense of excitement was palpable.

The man who was walking to the podium was short and not obviously impressive. He had dark hair, and wore the woven and threadbare rainbow jacket that had long-ago become his trademark.

The popular story was that the jacket had been given to him by a South American collective. Marco was one of a small handful of people who knew that it had already been replaced six times; the iconic value of this prop making it necessary to maintain the appearance of casual rebellion.