Page 44 of Omega's Fire

“There’s going to be a protest.” Halvorsen’s voice is tight. “Outside your lecture. I wanted to give you a heads-up.”

I staple the last handout, neaten them then slide them into my briefcase. “Not exactly unexpected. How many?”

“Campus security estimates thirty to forty students. The usual activists.” A pause. “Torres isn’t among them, if you’re wondering.”

I wasn’t wondering. I was hoping. I need to see him again.

“Thanks for the warning,” I say instead. “But I’ve handled worse.”

“Security will meet you at the south entrance of Halley Hall,” Halvorsen continues. “Try not to engage with them.”

“I know how to handle protesters, Ben.”

He chuckles. “I know. Good luck.” The line goes dead.

I slip the phone into my pocket and glance at my watch. Twenty minutes until my first lecture. Plenty of time to walk across campus, even with a gauntlet of protesters to navigate.

Outside, sunlight bathes the quad in gold, the kind of perfect day that makes even a concrete university campus look almost poetic. Students sprawl on the grass, textbooks and laptops in front of them.

I’m halfway across the central lawn when the chanting reaches me. Distant at first, then growing louder as I approach the hall. The crowd comes into view as I round the social sciences building, and I stop short, momentarily stunned.

This isn’t thirty to forty students. It’s well over a hundred people blocking every entrance to the lecture hall. Signs bob above the crowd: “NO BUREAU PUPPETS IN OUR CLASSROOMS,” “CONSENT MATTERS,” There are more signs calling me Thorndick than there are calling me Thorndike. How very original.

Some protesters have megaphones, leading call-and-response chants that echo across the quad. Others form a human chain across the main stairs. Campus security officers stand uncertainly at the perimeter, clearly outnumbered andunprepared.

I scan the crowd, unable to help myself. No Leo. But there—near the front, megaphone in hand—is Meg Deveraux, Leo’s right hand. Her voice carries over the others as she leads a chant about me. It rhymes and it’s crude but I wouldn’t say it is particularly clever.

These can’t all be students. The university’s entire omega rights group barely numbered thirty at its peak. Someone has rallied outside support, brought in people from the surrounding community.

I spot Halvorsen standing with a cluster of security personnel at the south entrance. His expression is grim as I approach.

“You said thirty to forty,” I observe mildly.

He grimaces. “It escalated quickly. Someone tipped off local activist groups.” His gaze cuts to Meg. “Three guesses who.”

“Not Leo,” I say with more certainty than I feel.

“Maybe not, but it’s definitely his people.” Halvorsen runs a hand through his thinning hair. “Police are on their way. We’ll get you inside.”

“Is that necessary? They’re just protesters.” I gesture toward the crowd. “Loud, but peaceful.”

“They’ve blocked all entrances, Nash. That crosses the line from protest to obstruction.” He checks his watch. “Students are waiting at the north entrance. They deserve access to their class.”

He’s right, of course. My students shouldn’t have to force their way through a human barricade to attend a lecture they’ve paid for.

Police arrive minutes later—around twenty officers in uniform who immediately begin conferring with security. One breaks away to address me directly.

“Dr. Thorndike? We’re going to create a corridor through the north entrance. Stay between officers at all times.”

I nod, clutching my briefcase tighter. “There are students waiting to get in as well.”

“We’ll bring them in after you’re secure. Please follow me.”

The police form a tight formation around me, shields raised. As we approach the human chain blocking the entrance, the chanting intensifies, faces contorting with genuine anger. The officer speaks through a bullhorn, warning protesters to clear a path or face removal.

Most step aside reluctantly. A few have to be physically moved, though the officers use minimal force. I keep my gaze forward, expression neutral, even as shouts hit me from all directions.

“Asshole!”

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