Jess and Kit contacted the Execs and shared the joy over the
signature news. The growing concern, though, was the prospet of the
war that could be started with the instability, or if countries with big
militaries resist. Like China, Russia and the US. They were expecting
Iraq, maybe Iran, North Korea, Libya, Syria, Serbia, Afghanistan and
other countries to resist or fight. But they needed all the big powers,
especially the US's military, if they were going to avoid real trouble.
Of course, they had no big powers so far, and didn't know how to get
that to change. They hated the idea of possibly having to conduct
their own guerilla war to end all war, but they were feeling like the
reality was that they would have their signatures and demonstrations,
but the big countries and their courts would stonewall and it would all
just drag on for too long until the critical mass of people would give up.
        Kit was feeling resigned to that prospect, almost, but feeling all
right about at least getting as far as they had. The agents didn't even
care about them anymore, apparently, Puter telling them that there was
no notice of them being in town. It was almost moot, Cody felt. And
he even had a little relief from the thought.
        They finished the com to the Execs and got into the air, the guys
in the Citation climbing up and way ahead of them. Kit was feeling
they didn't even need the advantage the Eagle provided, since no one
was tailing them, and they were missing the fun of the jet. He and
Jessy worked more with Pute, but sex shortly took precedence.
        "We're sure way in zen on this thing," she said as they
romanced away in back, "d'ya realize we have no agents to worry
about?"
        "Way." He didn't want to let her down with his assessment of
their new meaningless. She would figure it out, he knew.
        Felecia and Juli dodged more storms as they flew over the
Smokies towards the brightening sky as dawn quickly approached.
They all looked down at the Shenandoah draped with steam fog and
turned Southeastward, decided on landing near Yorktown, Jessica
remembering and liking the symbolism of the battlefield where the
American Revolution was won, besides giving the suits more airports
to cover to find them, if they were looking.
        She and Kit moved up to the driver's seats for the landing.
        "How come you're so jaded over there, Hotey?" Jess tweaked
as she reduced the power on the Lycomings. She's no dummy.
        "Oh..." he was genuinely surprised she had caught him feeling
down again, "heck, your highness, I guess I just feel better when
we're tailed."
        "Aw, did the folks get you down, Buff? Don't worry about
that," and she leaned over to give him a kiss, guessing right on the
other reason for his mood.
        "Well...it is just a matter of time for us. I mean, you'll need
to move on some time," putting the gear lever down as he looked
out the windows checking for traffic.
        "Wo there, bucko. Back that one up," she quickly answered as
she toggled on the landing lights, then turned his head with her hand
to look in his face. "Maybe I will...but maybe I won't. Don't you go
thinkin' ahead," she smiled, "not too much, anyway....All right?"
        "All right, captain," Kit giving her an appreciative smile. They
proceeded through the landing checks and put the Eagle - zero zero
Victor - gently down on the runway, and in moments they were
back at the task at hand.
        There had not been a demonstration like it in the world since
the Berlin Wall had come tumbling down. And it was bigger. With
the same idea, though. FUCK war, dammit. And all the institutions
built up around it. No more of the insanity, the hate, the stupidity,
the waste or terror, horror, murder or plain damn evil. NO more!
        Agents were everywhere around Washington. They were
trying to find Arnie and anyone else heading the thing. Spin doctors
were giving their best diffusion and defusion on TV and anywhere
else they could.The police were arresting any demonstrators they
could on drug or other charges. There was an army surrounding the
multitudes, and another smaller one around the White House. Wasn't
on Bill's orders, though. He was trying to get them to back off.
        The stage was between the Washington Monument and the
South Lawn of the White House, along Constitution Avenue. The old
folkers were doing the music at the moment - Dylan, Simon, Taylor,
King and the other aunts and uncles heading up the orchestra.
        Bill, Hill, Chel and guests were home, wanting to hear the
concert and speeches. The First Couple was feeling the same as the
WPG leaders. But the problem was getting the other great powers to
go along, assuming they could hold sway over the military-industrial
complex. And William Jefferson did not know how to resolve it, or
even how to get to, at that point.
        Agents had observed the guys deboarding the Citation at
College Park. The kids there had noticed the suits, and our three got
the word from Pute. And the spark was back. Kit was re-juiced.
        They listened to the concert on their little portable radio as they
shut down "Vic". And they talked out their plan - the hologram
planting and all, pledging Julio to absolute secrecy. He wasn't really
surprised when they told him, but was seriously happy they included
him in. Then Jess mentioned maybe calling Bill, just to say hey, sure
wish you could see your way to "Peace World" and such, she put it.
Kit just told her that whatever she wanted to do was good for him.
Call Bill. Go on stage. Whatever. And she loved his trust.
        Stevie Wonder finished up "Isn't She Lovely" on stage at
Monument, the "Flower Power" Network broadcasting that, then
switching to Belefonte, Poitier, Cosby, Andy Young, Jesse Jackson,
Danny Glover, Denzel Washington, Martin Luther King and others
on the Washington stage. They were voicing their support for the
WPG and mentioning how well that military money could be better
spent on helping folks in the US and around the world.
        Our guys rented a Jeep and headed on up toward the Capitol
from Newport News-Williamsburg International. The morning was
glorious. It was going to be one of those great hot and steamy days
in D.C. Ye ole swamp. The highway was crowded their direction,
Peeps coming from everywhichway headed for the demonstration.
Jess and Kit were working away on Puter, the hologram message
being current business, as Juli drove them through Richmond.
        Jess had her black Converse high tops on over peach mid-calf
socks, faded jean cutoffs, a WPG T-shirt bought at Monument, her
pink ball cap and sunglasses. She was the sight. Flece was too,
decked to the T's herself. They were listening to the drums and
world symphony on the D.C. stage after the latest speeches as Pute
apprised them that they would be prime targets for apprehension if
they showed, the word going around the suits' com.
        Well, Kit was feeling the adrenalin inside his bones from that
report. He suggested they stop so the girls could get their wigs on.
Juli pulled them off a country exit, found a secluded place and Jess
took the dark red one, Flee the black, and they darkened their
eyebrows. Cody, of course, had been growing his mustache since
Shanghai.
        They commed Sundance, telling the E-guy that they would
have another hologram after dark and asked for suggestions on the
message, which he gave them. Demonstrations were going strong
in all the capitols around the world, people everywhere most deeply
in favor and fervor. And the younger generation was taking over.
YEA! They had the energy. They loved the dream. And they were
taking over in the WPO entourage as well; the young ones were
taking over for Kit, his energy sapped. That juice surge he had felt?
Gone. Age was claiming its due. Of course, they hadn't slept eight
hours straight in the last whenever. He did have an excuse. Jessy
pulled his face down to her lap, back there in the back seat, after
handing Pute up to Flece, and stroked his hair.
        "Garble garble...Heaven..." he mumbled before conking.
And Country Joe, the Fish and Phish were doing a new song for
the D.C. throng.

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