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They veer around the Washington Monument, getting a little too close for Risa’s comfort, then descend toward the far end of the crowded park, just short of the Capitol building.
Risa still feels a beat behind. “How can we land with all those people in the way?”
“Don’t worry,” Aragon says. “When a Whisper-Bomber comes down on you, you move.”
As they descend, the scene becomes clearer. The crowd is tightly packed. Riot police are everywhere, shoulder to shoulder, waiting for the first sign of violence—and in a crowd this big, this fired up, it’s bound to happen.
“My God, this isn’t a rally,” Risa says. “It’s a powder keg.”
“Which is why you’re here,” says Aragon. “To make everyone play nice.”
Risa catches sight of a shirt that reads in bold letters WHERE ARE THEY? And it’s not just one shirt—there are hundreds of them, and other sentiments just like it speckled throughout the crowd. Risa’s mind begins to reel when she realizes who the shirts are talking about.
“There’s a growing rumor that the Juvenile Authority has both of you buried in unmarked graves,” Aragon says. “You’ve got to show people that it’s not true before they decide it’s time to take vengeance.”
“Looks like they’ll have to get new shirts,” says Connor.
When the door is opened, it becomes clear how they were able to land. Their vertical descent has dropped them right into the Capitol reflecting pool. Beyond the edge of the pool, the crowd tries to peer in to see who has just arrived. Connor gets up first, then turns to Aragon, who hasn’t moved from his seat. “Aren’t you coming?”
Aragon shakes his head. “If this is going to work, it has to be your show, not mine. Good luck.”
Connor reaches his hand out to Risa, and although she’s not ready to face the multitude, she takes his hand and steps down into the water.
“Damn, that’s cold,” says Connor.
The reaction of the crowd is immediate. “It’s them!” “It’s the Akron AWOL!” “It’s Risa Ward!” The news relays through the crowd and down the length of the massive park like a wave of electricity. Did Risa say thousands? There must be more than a million h
ere! It’s not just teenagers, either. There are people of all ages, all races, probably from all over the nation.
Hayden comes wading across the reflecting pool toward them. “What an entrance! You are the only people I know who can arrive by deus ex machina and pull it off.”
“Hayden, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” says Connor.
“As it should be.” He quickly hugs them both. “I’m glad the reports of your deaths were greatly exaggerated.” He leads them out of the pool and through the crowd, toward the Capitol steps. The crowd parts before them, still whispering their names with charged excitement. Some people actually reach out to touch them. A woman grabs Risa’s blouse, nearly ripping it.
“Hands to yourselves,” Hayden tells the reachers. “It might look like they walked on water, but the reflecting pool’s only a foot deep.”
There’s a speaker at a podium toward the top of the Capitol steps calling for justice, fairness, transparency, and all the other things people demand but rarely get from their government. Risa hears his words being broadcast throughout the rally by audio systems that seem to have sprung up spontaneously. The speaker, Risa realizes, is none other than rock star Brick McDaniel—and there are more celebrities in line to speak.
“When I called for this,” says Hayden, “I wasn’t even sure anyone was listening.”
At the base of the Capitol steps, a line of riot police blocks the way, and the crowd taunts them, daring them to attack. Risa feels like she’s just stepped into a mousetrap that’s about to spring. Doesn’t Hayden see that? How can he be so enthusiastic?
“I haven’t seen a single Juvie,” Connor notes. Risa looks around to realize he’s right. There’s the riot police, street cops, heavily armed military boeufs in camo, even special service, but no Juvies.
“The word is Herman What’s-His-Face—that lying tool who ran the Juvenile Authority—is out,” Hayden tells them.
“Sharply was fired?” says Connor.
“Had his nuts handed to him, is more like it.”
“He was Proactive Citizenry’s favorite puppet.” Risa says.
Hayden offers up his famous grin. “I thought I’d get arrested the moment I showed up, but the powers that be are all scrambling like AWOLs. No telling where they’re going to land, but I hope they all splat like tomatoes.”
As they reach the line of riot police, Hayden says, “Open sesame,” and they actually let him pass, but close their ranks again and grip their weapons before Connor and Risa can get through.
“Uh, excuse me,” Hayden says. “Can’t you see who they are?”
