Free Broken by Susan Jane Bigelow

been wearing since Michael had first met her, and put it in her pocket. Everyone watched her, agog.
    Monica went to the kitchen, and Michael followed her.
    "What’s going on?"
    Monica looked like she was ready to cry. "Lydia was on the UNP committee for our district. I wanted to join it next year. Can the administration really do this? We were the Confederation government for fifty years! How can we be traitors?"
    Michael thought. "I don’t know," he admitted. "But didn’t President Lin do something like try to steal the election? Um. I mean, isn't that why they put her in jail"
    Monica glared at him. "Yeah, they say she did. But she didn’t. We believe Peltan really took over the government in a military coup." She stared at him. "How could you miss that?"
    "Other priorities," Michael said. Joe had been sick and dying in 2105. They shared an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, then rejoined the others in the living room.
    An hour later, the police caught up with Lin and her compatriots on the wide plains of central Australia. The wind whipped up dust all around. In the center, stepping gingerly out of an open-top car, was Lin herself. A group of Black Bands—not the police after all—in smart uniforms surrounded her. She raised a hand—a feeble old woman, all of five feet tall, raised a hand to surrender—
    The Black Bands opened fire. Lin Su Kwan fell, disappearing into the dust.
     Lydia screamed.
    * * *
    An hour after that, President Peltan declared martial law. He also declared that all opposition parties had been outlawed, because of suspected terrorist ties.
     Riots broke out all over the world. The news reports framed it as evidence: the opposition was bent on disorder and chaos.
    "What’s going to happen to us now?" Andrew wondered.
    "We’re fucked," Shawn said evenly. He seemed no more or less disturbed than before.
    Horror flooded Michael.
     
    —Fire…
    —The ocean…
     
    He smiled and sighed. He looked around for Janeane, but found she wasn’t there . She hadn’t come back from work yet.
    "Where’s Janeane?" he asked.
    Monica turned white. "The CA! They’ll take it over! They’ll kill her!"
    The Colonization Authority was a symbol of the old regime. The Reformists hated it. And they had just seen what the Reformists did to things they hated.
    A frenzy of activity gripped the rhi . They called her office; she wasn’t there. Later, they watched the screen in horror as the Black Bands stormed the Colonization Authority transfer station in Newark ... but Janeane wasn’t one of the prisoners taken, nor was she listed among the dead. No one had seen her.
    "Janeane can take care of herself," Lydia said absently, after a while. "Don’t worry about her. She’ll come home."
    She didn’t.
    And yet Michael still held the ocean in his mind. Behind the peaceful waves, though, an urgent need to be gone was building.
    * * *
    They watched the reports for a while longer, and then decided, fitfully, to  go to bed. A few riots had broken out in Manhattan and Brooklyn, but nothing had spread their way yet. Supposedly Australia was going insane. Janeane still hadn’t come back.
    Michael paced sleeplessly around the house for an hour, unable to go to his room, unable even to think. Janeane had to be safe. Maybe she had gone to her ocean.
    He paled.
     
    —Fire.
     
    Janeane was out of the house tonight.
    He rushed back to his room and bundled his few possessions and some cash into his pack. He almost didn’t notice the envelope on the pillow, but the pale blue paper caught his attention as he turned to go. He opened it.
    A letter. He read it quickly.
     
    Time to leave, Prophet. These are for you. All my love. Godspeed.
     
    Three pieces of paper fluttered to the ground.
    Tickets. To Valen. Each bore the CA stamp, and each had two hundred credits taped to it.
    "Thank you, Janeane," he whispered, and ran out of the room, putting the envelope and its precious contents in the inside pocket of his