[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.Any emergency escape chutes would lead down to the riot, where they would be torn apart if they were caught trying to escape.And the only other hope was to be picked up by an aircraft.She turned and looked out over the city.One building had already caught fire, despite the design, the flames spreading too quickly to be entirely natural.She checked the location against the map she’d downloaded and stored in her implants and swore under her breath as she realised it was a government office, one responsible for enforcing countless hated and unnecessary regulations.There were too many horror stories about just how far the bureaucrats had slipped out of control for her to doubt that the building had been targeted deliberately.Hell, when the general population heard of the building’s destruction, they’d probably consider the rioters heroes.If they don’t already, she thought, coldly.It had always puzzled her that the rioters, the rebels, were regarded as heroes while those who struggled to maintain law and order were spat on in the streets.But if the general population felt helpless against all-powerful bureaucrats, it might explain why they loved the rebels.And yet.what did the rebels intend to create to replace the government? Revolutions were called revolutions, the old joke ran, because they went round and round.“You don’t need to worry,” Augustus said.He slipped his hand into hers and squeezed it, tightly.“We will survive.”“Thank you,” Belinda said.He meant well.She knew he meant well, even though she also knew how absurd his words were.“But you don’t have to worry about me.”She sighed as she saw helicopters appearing over the city, beaming light down towards the rioters.The forces of law and order had finally arrived.But she knew it was already too late to stop the rioters from causing havoc – and, perhaps, from unbalancing the government.And who knew what would happen then?Chapter SixteenThis is, in short, the origin of the phrase “the law is an ass.”- Professor Leo Caesius.The Decline of Law and Order and the Rise of Anarchy.Glen braced himself as the rioters surged forward, feeling a sick sense of fear in his lower chest.The rioters hadn't been cowed by the sudden appearance of the law enforcement forces as he’d hoped; if anything, it had given them new heart.Alerts flashed up in front of his eyes and he swore, silently.Someone was using civilian communications devices to coordinate the riot and direct fighters towards the police lines.“We need to shut down the communications network,” he said, as he lifted his shield.The line formed a barrier, locking their shields together into an unbreakable wall.“They’re using it against us.”“The civilians are balking,” Patty said, from where she was trying to coordinate the law enforcement agencies.“There’s a shitload of money tied up in keeping the network active.”And that isn't a coincidence, Glen thought.I’ll bet my life that someone organised it deliberately.The line wavered as the rioters slammed into it, pressing against the transparent shields with all the force they could muster.Glen saw men and women, most of them only a few years older than Helen, staring at the police lines with utter hatred as they shoved at the shields, then started to throw projectiles over the barricade.Most of them were rocks and pieces of debris, but some were makeshift Molotov Cocktails and even a couple of improvised explosive devises.Glen’s lips quirked at the fresh evidence that the bureaucrats who were responsible for ensuring that no one bought enough material to be dangerous were asleep at the switch, then he pushed the thought aside.There would be time for recriminations later.“Use gas,” he ordered, as the line shuddered.The first wave of rioters were in very real peril of being crushed by the second and third waves, as irresistible force met immovable objects with them caught in the middle.“Put them all to sleep.”He watched, grimly, as gas grenades arced over the barricade and started to spew out gas, but half of the rioters produced masks and pulled them over their faces before they could breathe in any of the gas.Glen swore under his breath – the manufacturers had flatly refused to make the gas effective if it touched a person’s skin – and then winced in pain as a number of rioters fell to the ground.They’d be trampled by their fellows before the police could rescue them, he noted in horror.His decision had made the whole riot much worse.“Hold the line,” he ordered, bitterly.Stunners would be usable, but they’d just make a bad situation worse.“And prepare the neural whips.”The crowd seemed quieter now the masks were on, but no less determined to break through the lines.Glen drew his whip, activated it, then barked a single command.The shields were yanked back, allowing him and the second line to start lashing out at the crowd.Shrieks of pain echoed through the street, sending the rioters at the rear stumbling backwards, then running for their lives.Others lost their masks and fell, knocked out by the gas.Glen watched in relief and concern as the rioter mass collapsed, then started to flee.The Marshals advanced carefully, leaving the sleeping bodies on the ground.There was no time to tend to them now.Glen had never visited the central shopping district outside working hours.It was simply too expensive for him, a monument to the vanities of wealth and power.The shops were wonders of design, constructed in a dozen different styles, all intended to showcase just how wealthy the owners were – and just how wealthy a person had to be to shop there regularly.There were no prices on any of the goods, he’d seen.If a person had to ask the price, they couldn't afford it.Now, it had become a nightmare.Every window within reach – and a few that shouldn't have been reachable – had been smashed.Secure doors had been torn off their hinges, allowing the rioters and looters to break into the building and start taking whatever they wanted.A handful of vehicles burned merrily, adding smoke and fumes to the confusion.And hundreds of young men and women ran everywhere, carrying whatever they could away from the riot.“Warn them,” Glen ordered, as the Marshals spread out.In the distance, he could hear the sound of more fighting as another mass of rioters met a Civil Guard force.Red icons flashed up in his helmet display, noting facilities.“And stun them if they offer any resistance.”Isabel tapped her helmet.Her voice, when she spoke, was crude and masculine, without any traces of emotion.“PUT DOWN THE STOLEN PROPERTY AND SIT DOWN ON THE GROUND, THEN PLACE YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEADS,” she ordered.“OFFICERS WILL BE ALONG TO TAKE YOU INTO CUSTODY.DO NOT ATTEMPT TO RESIST.”Glen lifted his stunner.Several of the looters obeyed, their bodies trembling as they realised that they’d stayed too long and now they were caught, others tried to run.The Marshals stunned them in the back and watched as their bodies hit the ground, then moved on and into the first set of shops.Glen vaguely recalled that it had once sold a tiny number of handbags, each one worth more than an entire CityBlock.Now, the handbags were gone, the shop was wrecked and completely deserted.no, he could hear someone snivelling in the far corner, trying desperately not to be heard.He motioned for Isabel to cover him as he peered through the shadows, eventually spying a young couple, one of them clutching a stolen handbag as if it were a life preserver.“Get over here,” he snapped, as they stared at him in horror.Part of him guessed that they’d seen the riot as the first chance of real excitement they were likely to have, after a long and boring life in the cityblocks.The rest of him didn't care [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.Any emergency escape chutes would lead down to the riot, where they would be torn apart if they were caught trying to escape.And the only other hope was to be picked up by an aircraft.She turned and looked out over the city.One building had already caught fire, despite the design, the flames spreading too quickly to be entirely natural.She checked the location against the map she’d downloaded and stored in her implants and swore under her breath as she realised it was a government office, one responsible for enforcing countless hated and unnecessary regulations.There were too many horror stories about just how far the bureaucrats had slipped out of control for her to doubt that the building had been targeted deliberately.Hell, when the general population heard of the building’s destruction, they’d probably consider the rioters heroes.If they don’t already, she thought, coldly.It had always puzzled her that the rioters, the rebels, were regarded as heroes while those who struggled to maintain law and order were spat on in the streets.But if the general population felt helpless against all-powerful bureaucrats, it might explain why they loved the rebels.And yet.what did the rebels intend to create to replace the government? Revolutions were called revolutions, the old joke ran, because they went round and round.“You don’t need to worry,” Augustus said.He slipped his hand into hers and squeezed it, tightly.“We will survive.”“Thank you,” Belinda said.He meant well.She knew he meant well, even though she also knew how absurd his words were.“But you don’t have to worry about me.”She sighed as she saw helicopters appearing over the city, beaming light down towards the rioters.The forces of law and order had finally arrived.But she knew it was already too late to stop the rioters from causing havoc – and, perhaps, from unbalancing the government.And who knew what would happen then?Chapter SixteenThis is, in short, the origin of the phrase “the law is an ass.”- Professor Leo Caesius.The Decline of Law and Order and the Rise of Anarchy.Glen braced himself as the rioters surged forward, feeling a sick sense of fear in his lower chest.The rioters hadn't been cowed by the sudden appearance of the law enforcement forces as he’d hoped; if anything, it had given them new heart.Alerts flashed up in front of his eyes and he swore, silently.Someone was using civilian communications devices to coordinate the riot and direct fighters towards the police lines.“We need to shut down the communications network,” he said, as he lifted his shield.The line formed a barrier, locking their shields together into an unbreakable wall.“They’re using it against us.”“The civilians are balking,” Patty said, from where she was trying to coordinate the law enforcement agencies.“There’s a shitload of money tied up in keeping the network active.”And that isn't a coincidence, Glen thought.I’ll bet my life that someone organised it deliberately.The line wavered as the rioters slammed into it, pressing against the transparent shields with all the force they could muster.Glen saw men and women, most of them only a few years older than Helen, staring at the police lines with utter hatred as they shoved at the shields, then started to throw projectiles over the barricade.Most of them were rocks and pieces of debris, but some were makeshift Molotov Cocktails and even a couple of improvised explosive devises.Glen’s lips quirked at the fresh evidence that the bureaucrats who were responsible for ensuring that no one bought enough material to be dangerous were asleep at the switch, then he pushed the thought aside.There would be time for recriminations later.“Use gas,” he ordered, as the line shuddered.The first wave of rioters were in very real peril of being crushed by the second and third waves, as irresistible force met immovable objects with them caught in the middle.“Put them all to sleep.”He watched, grimly, as gas grenades arced over the barricade and started to spew out gas, but half of the rioters produced masks and pulled them over their faces before they could breathe in any of the gas.Glen swore under his breath – the manufacturers had flatly refused to make the gas effective if it touched a person’s skin – and then winced in pain as a number of rioters fell to the ground.They’d be trampled by their fellows before the police could rescue them, he noted in horror.His decision had made the whole riot much worse.“Hold the line,” he ordered, bitterly.Stunners would be usable, but they’d just make a bad situation worse.“And prepare the neural whips.”The crowd seemed quieter now the masks were on, but no less determined to break through the lines.Glen drew his whip, activated it, then barked a single command.The shields were yanked back, allowing him and the second line to start lashing out at the crowd.Shrieks of pain echoed through the street, sending the rioters at the rear stumbling backwards, then running for their lives.Others lost their masks and fell, knocked out by the gas.Glen watched in relief and concern as the rioter mass collapsed, then started to flee.The Marshals advanced carefully, leaving the sleeping bodies on the ground.There was no time to tend to them now.Glen had never visited the central shopping district outside working hours.It was simply too expensive for him, a monument to the vanities of wealth and power.The shops were wonders of design, constructed in a dozen different styles, all intended to showcase just how wealthy the owners were – and just how wealthy a person had to be to shop there regularly.There were no prices on any of the goods, he’d seen.If a person had to ask the price, they couldn't afford it.Now, it had become a nightmare.Every window within reach – and a few that shouldn't have been reachable – had been smashed.Secure doors had been torn off their hinges, allowing the rioters and looters to break into the building and start taking whatever they wanted.A handful of vehicles burned merrily, adding smoke and fumes to the confusion.And hundreds of young men and women ran everywhere, carrying whatever they could away from the riot.“Warn them,” Glen ordered, as the Marshals spread out.In the distance, he could hear the sound of more fighting as another mass of rioters met a Civil Guard force.Red icons flashed up in his helmet display, noting facilities.“And stun them if they offer any resistance.”Isabel tapped her helmet.Her voice, when she spoke, was crude and masculine, without any traces of emotion.“PUT DOWN THE STOLEN PROPERTY AND SIT DOWN ON THE GROUND, THEN PLACE YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEADS,” she ordered.“OFFICERS WILL BE ALONG TO TAKE YOU INTO CUSTODY.DO NOT ATTEMPT TO RESIST.”Glen lifted his stunner.Several of the looters obeyed, their bodies trembling as they realised that they’d stayed too long and now they were caught, others tried to run.The Marshals stunned them in the back and watched as their bodies hit the ground, then moved on and into the first set of shops.Glen vaguely recalled that it had once sold a tiny number of handbags, each one worth more than an entire CityBlock.Now, the handbags were gone, the shop was wrecked and completely deserted.no, he could hear someone snivelling in the far corner, trying desperately not to be heard.He motioned for Isabel to cover him as he peered through the shadows, eventually spying a young couple, one of them clutching a stolen handbag as if it were a life preserver.“Get over here,” he snapped, as they stared at him in horror.Part of him guessed that they’d seen the riot as the first chance of real excitement they were likely to have, after a long and boring life in the cityblocks.The rest of him didn't care [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]