“Earth is our home, our birthright! Any man or woman that stands between us and the reconquest is a traitor to our species – and we all know the payment for treason!” The crowd roared approval. There weren't more then a few dozen of them, but they made up for their lack of numbers in enthusiasm. “How long will our so-called masters stand in our way? How long will they deny the will of the people? Only you-” and now Dee's voice dropped from her haranguing shout to a soft, gentle tone - “only you can decide. Thank you.”
Mara
handed out the data sticks as the meeting broke up, loaded with the
latest edition of their pirate newsfile, while Dee talked to those
who wanted to talk. The crowds were still minuscule in the grand
scheme of things, but they were getting bigger, and some of the
audience were taking two or three sticks to share – she almost ran out
before the room emptied. They'd need to talk to Han about upping
their order again...
Speaking
of whom, Han himself walked in then, pushing against the tide of
workers filtering out. He walked over to their table and helped
himself to a stick. “How's the organizing?” he asked.
“Well
enough that we're running low on sticks again,” Mara replied.
“What brings you here?”
“Just
wanted to let you know,” he said. “That you have competition.
A couple of the Zealots are speaking tomorrow night, down at the rust
bowl.”
Mara
nodded. She wasn't surprised; they'd been expecting that to happen
eventually. “Thanks for the tip.”
“About
your sticks.” Han looked away, as though embarrassed. “I'll
throw in another fifty next time. Don't worry about the money.”
That
did surprise her. “Thanks.”
“You're
good customers,” Han said, almost defensively. “Besides” -
and now he did look her in the eye - “sometimes a man starts
to think that maybe you're right.”
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