Death of the Ayn Rand Scholar Gray Cavender (motivational novels for students .TXT) 📖

uncomfortable being on a college campus, like they were political tourists, trying to look defiant, but gawking at the buildings and the students who were roughly the same age as some of these guys. She could see their signs now…an array of messages that she’d expected to see. None of the signs featured swastikas, but she thought that maybe some of men’s tats were that symbol, although she and Wes were far enough away that she couldn’t be certain. She did a quick count as they passed, and counted 24 guys.

No sooner had they had passed the MU than another group emerged from the front entrance…as if they’d been inside, waiting. Because this group was crowded near the door, Jillian couldn’t tell how many there were. She was sure, though, that they were a counter-group because of their diversity: men and women, people of color.

This second group waited for the first group to be well-past the MU, then fell-in 30 yards or so behind them. They were in no particular formation…just walking quietly, some with signs proclaiming messages like ‘Hate Not Welcome Here’ or simply, ‘Diversity.’ Jillian tried to make a count, but their lack of a formation made it difficult…she estimated that there were either 17 or 19 people. From their ages, she thought they were mostly students, although there were several professor-looking people mixed-in.

“Don’t look now,” Wes said, and motioned with his chin toward yet another group, this one approaching from the opposite direction…from over toward the Social Sciences Building. This was by far the largest group, probably more than the other two groups combined. Again, the diversity of members suggested a counter-protest group. They stopped short of the fountain which now separated the groups.

Wes and Jillian floated to their left, toward the end of the building on the Wilson Hall side. This gave them a better view of the stage, one that wasn’t blocked by the fountain. There also were more trees so they were less visible.

The marching men tried to execute some sort of a right turn two-by-two maneuver just before the fountain, which didn’t work so well, but they still made the turn. The marchers ended-up in front of the stage that was opposite the entrance to the MU. One of them—he carried a bull horn that Jillian hadn’t seen before—took the stage and addressed his followers. An above-ground portion of Hayden Library stood as a backdrop to the stage. The guy appeared to be their leader. He was a look-alike clone of Miller Sterling…just younger.

His first words were lost in the bull horn’s piercing screech, but he kept talking and the sound got OK. “…illegally and unconstitutionally denied our legitimate request to hold a lawful assembly to protest the murder of Professor Nelda Siemens.” At this point, he held-up a poster-sized photo…it was the one from the Professor’s ASU webpage.

He held the bull horn with one hand and continued to display the photo with the other. “And why did this woman, this professor die? She was struck down because she was at the vanguard of the cultural war against the moral dilution…”

Jillian was distracted by something in her peripheral vision…on her left. A contingent of several people swept by the fountain, headed toward the stage. Professor Naremore was in the lead, walking quickly, so they must have come from Wilson Hall.

She recognized at least one other professor, a younger man—she couldn’t recall his name—who was hired the year she graduated. There were several students, too, a couple who looked to be undergrads, and at least three who were older, probably grad students. Jillian recalled one guy—she didn’t remember his name, either—who was definitely a doctoral student. She thought he studied social movements, like the protest against the World Trade Organization. He walked beside Professor Naremore and seemed to have a cell phone to his left ear. She counted seven people in this contingent. She hoped that Professor Naremore and his group wouldn’t do anything crazy, but, at the same time, she was proud of them.

“And what has the university done?” here the man with the bull horn paused, and his men responded, as if on cue, “Nothing.” The speaker again, “Has the professor’s murderer been arrested,” he paused again, and his men screamed, “NO!”

The speaker continued, “No, apparently their only action has been to try to block our lawful demonstration. Apparently, constitutional protections don’t apply to everybody, or the laws of homicide, either.” His followers booed.

He continued, “We demand justice for Professor Nelda Siemens,” he said and displayed her photo again. Some of his men pumped their arms in the air, others moved their signs up and down.

Wes said, “These guys remind me of the villagers who stormed the castle, just without the torches, in Frankenstein. He pronounced it like in the Gene Wilder movie, and shook his head.

Before Jillian could respond, some students began heckling the speaker. They didn’t seem to be a part of either counter-demonstration group. They were just yelling insults and taunting the speaker. Several of his followers turned and started yelling at these students, and actually surged a few feet toward them.

Several things happened then, simultaneously. The group that had been trailing the marchers had initially moved behind them, before moving on to their right. The larger, counter-demonstration had turned left at the fountain, and stopped to the left of the protestors. Professor Naremore’s contingent had intermixed with the students who were heckling behind the protestors. Five ASU uniformed police, joined by another four or five Tempe uniformed police formed a half moon between the protestors and the counter-protestors. So, the protesters essentially were boxed-in: Hayden Library stood behind the stage; a counter-group to their right; a larger group to their left; a small crowd of students, now augmented by Professor Naremore’s contingent along with uniformed police officers, behind them.

Then someone (Jillian couldn’t tell which group) took-up the cheer from football and basketball games, “ASU, ASU, ASU.” Almost immediately, all the counter-protesters picked-up the chant, completely drowning-out the protestors,