Warm sunlight shone down on the factory district, the blue sky at odds with all the ugly, gray buildings. The protest had been relegated to the outer fringe of the neighbourhood, near the warehouses that were used to store raw materials. There were at least a dozen of those: large, blocky structures with wide corridors between them forming a network of streets.
From what Kez had been told, the original plan had been to protest outside the plant that made warp drive coolant systems, but the owners of that facility had secured a court order that forbade any mass action within five hundred metres of their property. So, here they were: off in the middle of nowhere, chanting slogans that no one would hear, holding signs that no one would read.
They were only allowed to use this space because
