[center][b][h3]White Flower Revolution[/h3]
(Part 2)
[/b][/center]

There's supposed to be stars in the sky. Not the big spheres of burning gas that planets orbit around, that you see in astronomy maps, but [i]stars[/i]. Real stars. The little twinkling lights in the sky that you wish upon. But you can't see any tonight- or most of the nights that Li has seen. Not that she's worried about it.

"Isn't it beautiful up here?" she asks.
"Yeah," he answers.

It's the cities, they say. New Beijing, like every New Hollywood city, is an endless parade of light and noise. Li likes it like that; even if all that brightness hides the night. It might be near to midnight, but the sky overhead is only a plain gray sheet.

"I would stay up here forever, wouldn't you?" she asks.
"Sure," he answers.

Her boyfriend has never been as enthusiastic about these things as she is. She was hoping they could really enjoy the Ferris wheel together, or any part of Nosi Amusement Park, but he's been distracted the entire time. No reaction to anything. It's all that news he watches, she decides. Hearing [i]revolution this [/i]and [i]Gateway that[/i], he never thinks about anything else any more. He pinned a white flower on to his shirt a week ago. It's still there- Li truly does not like that.

They're coming to the peak of the Ferris wheel now, riding slowly up to its zenith; the ever-present carnival music picks up the pace a little, like it's playing just for them. And it might be. Late on a Monday night, following an entire day of solid rain, almost nobody is still here. It's just Li, Ramesh and the staff. And a lot of animatronic clowns. They move in strange dances.

Honestly, there's too many for comfort. The fear of clowns has never been as rampant on New Hollywood as it might be in other places (strange costumes and bright colors are too common to be scary) but there's just something in the way they move that puts Li on edge. Robotic. All wearing those poofy clothes and those plastic masks. Why couldn't they just use holograms?

"I don't like the clowns," she says.
"Then don't look at them," he answers. She tries not to.

Ah, there. That's a sight that puts even the clowns out of her mind. Gorgeous. Her and Josh have now reached the precarious tip of the Ferris wheel, and they can see everything. To their left, the lights and joys of New Beijing. To their right, a vast open wasteland dotted with Bezian ruins. And right in front of them, the war between them both: the little bits of grass encroaching on the wasteland, the little tale-tell signs of terraforming and buildings making this alien world into something human. Li, the true New Hollywoodite that she is, sheds a tear at the sight. This ride was worth the price.

Below, some clowns stop dancing. But Li does not notice, because she's still watching the view.

"Look!" Li tells her boyfriend. He looks. He nods. She jostles his arm: "No, really look! Can't you see it?" He nods again, faster, with a little latent irritation behind it that she pretends not to notice- but she does.

Below, some clowns take off their plastic masks.

"Listen," Li says, "we paid a lot of money to come here today, okay? We've been planning it for, like, three weeks. It took us both forever to get this day off."

Below, the clowns aren't really clowns any more. They were never animatronic. Li hasn't looked yet.

Ramesh finally smiles back at her, but in a sad kind of way. "You're right, Li," he says. "I've just been thinking a lot lately. With all the stuff on the news channels. It gets you going, you know?" He forces a laugh. "I'm sor-"

The Ferris wheel stops. It's a creaking, shuttering stop that feels very unintentional; it cuts Ramesh off in the middle of his apology. It cuts Li off, too, from milking it. It's silent for a moment. Nothing but the whining of the wheel. Some puddles splash.

"Uh... hello?" Li is shouting down the side. "Hey, we're still on this!"

The wind blows as an answer. It's not a very articulate one.

"Hello!" She shouts again. Ramesh has to be elbowed in the side before he joins in. "Uh, hey... hey, me and my girlfriend are up here!"

"You're not being loud enough, Ramy!"

Splash, splash. Far beneath, something is running through the rain puddles. An army is on the move, an unknown one that can't be seen in their dark robes. They're almost to the Ferris wheel.

"I can't be louder, I have vocal cord damag-"
"Oh, shut up, you've been complaining about that for ten years."
"I've [i]had it for ten years[/i]."
"Ju- [i]woaaahh![/i]"

Their stomachs fly into their throats as the wheel drops. A lever has been pulled. 

This is not the gentle, playful kind of ride down that the advertisements promised. It's a screaming, screeching, grabbing-each-other kind of ride down where both people briefly think they're going to die. Bang, banging against their metal seats. Plummet hits several Gs. Ramesh sprays the contents of his stomach onto a neon poster on the way down, but has just enough presence of mind to realize it might be an improvement. 

They groan in unison when, after swinging back-and-forth like a pendulum, their cart comes to rest at the bottom. The spinning in their heads makes the carnival around them look like watercolor; it takes them both more than a moment to realize what is standing in front of them.

"Oh, uuuugh, it's you guys," Li says. She moans the words.

The guys in question are Mixtists and Flowers- two of the former, and a dozen of the latter. More of both are scattered across the park. They've been planning this 'take over' for three weeks: not only of the Amusement park, but of all New Beijing. Neo London, too. At midnight, every major business and political office is to be seized. And then held- indefinitely. The Oligarchs will all wake up to find a world run by the rebels.

The clown costumes came in to the plan only recently, as a last resort. Security around the Nosi Amusement Park had jumped up lately; some over-zealous, would-be rebel sent in a bomb threat. It nearly stopped the plan in its tracks. But then someone realized: on a dreary Monday night, after rain? Nobody would notice a few extra robo-clowns. They sneaked in, deactivated security cams, and flung the central gate wide open for the small army of rebels waiting outside. A brilliant plan, executed brilliantly.

Then they spotted Josh and Li still on the Ferris wheel.

"By Earth, y'all, what are you doing here?" asked a man named Jeb, a Mixtist who normally did not use such Oligarch expressions. But [i]by Earth, y'all[/i], everyone should have left the park an hour back.

"We didn't leave the park yet," Ramesh says, stating the very obvious. "She thought it would be more romantic at midnight."

"It's more romantic than staying in for the eighty-seventh ni-" but Li is cut off. Jeb has clasped his hand over her mouth. "Shhh, he hisses. "Do you hear that? Listen!"

They listen. There is a faint sound, just on the edge of hearing. It's something repetitive, something high-pitched, something getting louder, getting closer... it is...

Even from under the hand, Li bursts out laughing. Jeb pulls his arm back. "It's carnival music!" she declares. "We're at a carnival, and you're surprised to hear carnival music!" Ramesh toys with the white flower on his shirt, and doesn't laugh along.

Jeb whirls around, to the baker's dozen of rebels behind him. It looks like they think of him as an authority figure. Everybody's spine straightens up a little when he glances over them. "Which one of y'all forgot to turn off the music?" Nobody answers. "Come on, who was it?"

A girl's hand is slowly raised. "It was my responsibility," she says, "but... I did it, I swear. I double checked!"

"What about..." the Mixtist starts, hesitates, stops, and starts again. He feels uneasy; he couldn't explain to you why. "What about the staff? We've got them all locked in the office, right?"

"Under lock, key and death threat," says a man. "We [i]triple[/i] checked." Some people look over at the girl again, with those looks that say [i]Well, you must have been the one to mess up.[/i] She shirks away from them.

Li rolls her eyes so hard, they should fall out of her sockets. "You guys have no idea what you're doing. Come on, Ramy. Let's just go home. We're loyal citizens. We'll let these morons stay here and play rebel."

She pretends not to notice the hesitation in his movements. He climbs out of the Ferris wheel cart like he doesn't really want to go. Like he wants to stay here and play rebel, too. She takes him by the arm, a white-knuckle grip on his wrist, and practically pulls him along with her to the main gate.

That's when they see it. Hear it, too. It really does sound like carnival music. But it looks like an army.

And that's what it is. An army, all dressed in black, their metallic armor being three inches thick, some carrying speakers that blast music very appropriate to the setting. They march in-line with the clownish beat. Classic ECU: crash the party, but keep with the theme. The only thing that still marks them as protectors is a little gold badge, pinned where their hearts should be. It is molded in the shape of a fist.

"Oh, f-"

Ramesh finishes that word. Then finishes it a few more times. It's fortunate that will not be the last word he ever says, if only because next he has to beg his girlfriend not to go up to the army and ask them for help. "Are you insane!" He hisses into her ear, more animated than he's been all night. "Those are protectors. I don't care what you learned in school, they aren't on our side. And-" he looks down at that white flower on his shirt, now the same as a target on his back, "-they will kill me, Li. Is that what you want?"

They're only a few steps away. The protectors have seen them; their mass fills the gate. There is no exit, there is nowhere to hide. Ramesh grabs his girlfriend's arm, this time, and they run as fast as either can. 

The black-gold horde marches behind them, lock-step, unflinching. They don't even speed up. After all, where are the two going to run? Back to the rebels, they go, and frantically recite everything they just saw. Jeb's face goes white. (Really, it goes a shade even lighter than that, for which there is no word but 'terror.')

There is, for half of half of a second, talk about who leaked information, and who the traitor must be- but Jeb silences it. That's not important right now. From what Ramesh and Li say, at least fifty protectors stand out there, and only fifteen rebels- Li bristles at being included in the rebels, but doesn't argue- are here to stand against them. That makes strategy vital, he says. So for just a moment, everyone stops to listen closely to what this supposed strategy is, this thing that will save them from a squad of professional murderers.

It can't be said whether Jeb's plan would have worked, sadly. Because even though they listen, nobody hears him speak. They hear two other things, instead. The first is a man with a deep voice and an American accent shouting: "[b]Initiate Motion 10-A, boys[/b]!" 

And the second is an unintelligible, horrific wailing. It fills the atmosphere. The speakers have stopped playing circus music; they're playing this instead. This sound that finds you and crawls under your skin, so that you want to claw your ears off to make it stop. This wail that lies somewhere between an infant screaming and a tornado warning. The rebel's flight-or-fight instinct is beyond triggered.

Another command is given, which none of the rebels know of, but the protectors can hear just fine in their protective ear-pieces. "[b]Motion 10-B[/b]." Now yellow and red lights are strobing, frantically fast. All the world becomes wailing and flashing. Logic is gone, and instinct takes over. 

Just as the protectors intended, the White Flowers break. The girl, the youngest and least ready for this, is the first to run. She doesn't know why she's running, or where to, only that every cell in her body tells her that she must. Seeing her flee strikes the boy beside her in the heart- he runs too. One by one, great and small, the Flowers fall apart. Like roaches when you turn the light on. The proctors laugh, but nobody can hear them.

Li grabs Ramesh's hand again, and for the first time in years, he doesn't pull back. Neither of them can see anymore. With eyes closed, they grope around the amusement park, only knowing to get away from that wailing sound. Their feet scrape and stumble awkwardly against the concrete. They're trying to walk together, but neither knows where the other wants to go. When the couple finally stumbles into something cold- a flagpole?- they silently agree to make this their stopping point.

The wailing has calmed down. Not stopped. Not even close. But it's quieted to the point of only being an awful background sound, instead of the intense, mind-breaking experience it was just twenty seconds ago. Feels like an hour. Ramesh opens his eyes to see Li trembling all over, her feet and her hands. Every one else in view is the same.

The protectors round them up, after that. The Mixtists are too shaken to put up much resistance. Only Jeb escapes, climbing over a lower section of fencing and fleeing into the wasteland. Every one else is taken into custody. After talking to interrogators, and expressing much loyalty to the state, Li is released; but she never sees Ramesh again.

He's not the only one. All over New Beijing and Neo London, the White Flowers are met with these kinds of sudden, psychological attacks. The protectors in black uniforms, the wailing and the flashing. And many do die; but when dawn comes, the rebels have claimed just enough to take control. Neo London and New Beijing, two of the largest ECU cities, are now White Flower territory.

Back in their apartment- now her apartment- Li decides Ramesh would have been happy to hear that.