Holy frack, Tempest sent.

The giant screens came to life. The face of the man on the stage appeared in front of them all.

Senator Stanley Kim stood there, tall and straight, in his signature black suit and blue tie, and held his arms out wide to the crowd.

Rangan gasped. The crowd’s rush slowed as shock snapped people back to the here and now. The crowd was filling the wide space on 2nd street, where the barrier was placed, hundreds of thousands of people filing in behind him. And he was just a dozen people back from the barricade. Just thirty or forty feet back from the stage on which Stan Kim stood, looking at them all, his arms still held out, as if to greet them, as if to forestall them.

Stan Kim looked just as he had the night he’d given his speech saying he wouldn’t concede the race. Saying that he’d won the Presidency.

More and more people filed in. Rangan felt anger turn to surprise, turn to confusion, turn to something almost like hope.

Well, Angel sent. He’s got people’s attention. Think we can slip him some Nexus?

“My fellow Americans!” Senator Stanley Kim said then, his voice powerfully amplified over the crowd. “We need a revolution!”

“We need a revolution!” the Senator from California roared over the crowd.

Rangan felt the crowd roar back with excitement. A giant cheer went up. People clapped, whistled, yelled.

Minds cheered the Senator on.

Stan Kim leaned forward, pointed at the crowd, panned his outstretched hand around to take them all in.

“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” he yelled

The crowd went wild again, cheering, clapping, waving signs.

“Well you’ve come to the right place!” Stan Kim said.

“America is the land of permanent revolution!” The Senator said, his eyes scanning the crowd. “We fought a bloody war more than two and a half centuries ago. We spilled blood, right here!” He thrust a finger down at the ground, beneath the stage.

“Why?” Kim asked. “Because we had no choice! Because it was our only way! So we could institute government of the people, by the people, and for the people. Government where we revolt constantly, every two years!”

Rangan caught his breath. He heard some cheers, but fewer now. He felt the crowd grow confused in his mind.

“You want a revolution?” Stan Kim yelled.

The crowd cheered again. Yells of agreement rose up.

Stan Kim nodded. “In two years,” he yelled, “every member of the House behind me,” he waved back towards the Capitol, “and a third of the Senate come up for re-election.”

He paused. Rangan was nodding, hoping beyond hope, feeling the crowd teeter.

He blasted out his agreement, blasted it out through his thoughts, blasted it out across the Mesh to any listeners he had.

“You know what those women and men can do?” Stan Kim asked the crowd.