He hesitated for a moment, then stood up, staying behind the tree. “I can hear you,” he shouted.

“You know what that explosion means, don’t you?”

Turning, Lowry stared at the inferno raging inside the smashed hulk of the building.

“The Major’s gone,” Clayne called. “So is Travis. It’s over, Fred.”

“We’re still here!” he shouted back, but there was little conviction in his voice.

“The computers are gone, Fred. Central Control is gone. Think about that. Your families are free now. The people are free.”

“Look behind you, Lowry.” It was Eric Lloyd. “Here come the people of Shalev.”

The flatness of Alliance Square gave way to the ridge behind Central Control. The point where Lowry stood was probably fifty or so feet higher than the quad. As he turned and looked down, he could see dark shapes pouring into the quad, outlined in the dim lights of the square and its buildings. There were hundreds of them, and swelling even as he watched, pouring toward them like an angry torrent.

“It’s the people, Fred,” Clayne shouted. “They’re free now, and they’re not coming to help the Guardians. Give it up, before you cause a bloodbath.”

The two men who were crouched down next to Lowry stood up, transfixed at the sight below them. “Look at them!” one of them breathed in a mixture of awe and terror.

“Lieutenant Lowry!” It was one of his own men, somewhere behind him. “What about the squads of men unconscious inside the building? They’ll be killed.”

Clayne heard and replied, “We’ll help you get them out, Fred.”

Lowry hesitated, torn with indecision.

“Come on, man!” Clayne screamed. “It’s over. Let’s not make it any worse than it already is.”

Lieutenant Fred Lowry looked at the two men next to him, who nodded quickly. He turned to stare at the shattered wall and the fire, which was swelling in size even as he looked. Suddenly he threw his rifle down and stepped out into view. “Guardians! This is Lieutenant Lowry! Throw down your weapons. Let’s get those men out of that building.”

Nicole stopped in front of the Fountain of Peace and watched the dancing waters, now edged with pink from the fiery sunrise that filled the sky. Eric stopped too, and she slipped her arm through his. Chet had stitched up the incision in her back and given her a pain pill, but her face was still pale and drawn. “The Fountain of Peace,” she murmured, her voice barely audible over the sounds of the splashing water. “Maybe now it really can become one.”

“I think—” Eric started to speak, but a shout cut him off.

“Eric!”

They both turned. Chet Abernathy had come out of the library and was running across the grass toward them. “Clayne’s found them,” he called.

Eric’s shoulders sagged in relief. “Are they all right?”