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The Gunpowder Plot

Parliament, Myr

The group of Myrads approached the Parliament building, and their reflections were made clearly in the smooth glass.

Critch nearly scowled. He looked like a viggin' Myrad. He had to admit, Ali was an artist with makeup. He couldn't even see his scars, though he didn't even recognize himself through the silicon muck she'd used on his face and neck.

Birk snickered as he looked at his reflection.

"I hope no one gets a picture of us like this," Throttle muttered at his side.

"Hey, I think I did pretty good," Ali said.

"Yeah, you did too good," Throttle said. "I look like one of you."

Critch agreed. While all Throttle's skin had needed was a tint of blue added, her hair had been colored to a deep purple, since Myrads had an unnatural obsession with bright colors. A long, silky, colorful coat hid her leg braces, and Critch was relieved to see that Throttle had become acclimated to walking a normal stride.

"You all look good," Yang said. "Now, straighten up. Mother is ready for us."

Yang turned and walked up to the comm screen embedded in stone to the right of the doors. He held out his wrist comm, and a light ran over it. An automated, slightly robotic voice came through the speaker.

"Welcome, Citizen Yang Liu. We have you listed in a group of six visitors for Senator Luna Liu today as part of your school project. Is that correct?"

"Yes," Yang replied. "We're interviewing her for our Political Science class."

"Excellent. Each of your friends must have their wrist comm scanned, and then you may proceed into the building. Should you need assistance while inside, approach any wall screen."

Yang nodded toward Critch, who approached first and held out his comm. He focused on not holding his breath while the light shone over the comm that had a thin piece of tech clinging to the screen that would feed faulty data to any scanner. A human could notice the slight variation, which looked like a polarized screen had been taped over the comm, but computers only noticed what they were programmed to notice.

"Welcome, Citizen David Smithton. You're cleared to enter the building."

Critch breathed easier as he stepped back for the remaining four to be processed. A hologram on the other side of the doors caught his gaze, and he found himself reading the so-called memorial. He cursed under his breath. Leave it to politicians to lie about what had started the war. Five citizens. The memorial said nothing about the tens of thousands of colonists that had been slaughtered.

"We're all clear," Yang said.

Critch turned to see everyone waiting. "Let's go," he said.

They proceeded. The large doors opened. Yang led the way, followed by the three torrents, Ali, and Ted. Critch noticed no weapons sensors as he passed through, and he looked around, still seeing none. The fringe stations had sensors at every entrance. That Parliament didn't have any meant they assumed no attack would come from the ground. Between patrol ships and the EMP nets enwrapping each citizen world, the two planets were safe from colonist attacks. They assumed citizens would never attack their own if they were kept well fed and rich.

They were about to learn differently.

"Mother is on the second floor," Yang said as he took the first steps on the massive staircase. "She arrived twenty minutes before us."

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