EDIT: I found an actual file for this one that's a day longer at 11237 words. Each long dash represents a chapter (basically a day or two's worth of work).
The sun had begun to set on the plains. The distant city lights began to power on, slowing their glow down the major thoroughfares. A dull groaning siren resounded from the camp at the end of the road. Yoseph sighed, lowering his sledge to the earth with a soft thud. He wiped his dark damp gritty hair from his sweaty forehead and heaved the tool over his left shoulder. After collecting his water and his pack, Yoseph walked to the makeshift camp, slowly joining the other engineers as the proceeded to the transport.
“Hey Yoseph,” called out a raspy voiced, average-sized dirty blond man. “You get 1305 done today?”
Yoseph collected his breath and blankly stared at the man for a few seconds. Clearing his throat with a cough, he replied, “Nosir. Foundation giving me problems. It’s an older one, done right.”
The man nodded knowingly. “Yeah, those ones can be bitches,” and after taking a deep gulp of water, he continued, “I do expect you to be done with that one and 1311 by Friday. We got a major project on Sunday and I want you rested.”
Yoseph nodded, as their group merged with the throng at the camp. An aged rusty tractor pulled up to the middle of the tent and lean-to village and circled around a gravel lot. The open air trailers behind it creaked and shuttered as the motor turned off. The driver, looking equally as old as his ride, dismounted and headed over to Yoseph and his companion. He greeted them as he neared, “G’ening sir.”
The blond clasped the slightly hunched man on his shoulder, “Hey Fredrick. What’re you doing out here? Where’s Lowell
“Hell if I know, Geoff,” said the grinning white haired man. “But, I got called up to drive so here I am.”
Yoseph moved on past the two men like the other laborers, tossing his pack and sledge into the center of a trailer. He hoisted himself up over the top beam of the trailer and sunk down to the plank floor. Closing his eyes, he sat there, aware of the other workers settling down onto the same trailer, rocking it with each heft of a pack and body launching itself over the rail. Yoseph braced himself as the tractor smoked and lurched forward with each rough patch and pothole echoing down the chain of trailers, and as the transport slowly drifted asleep.
“Yo! Yoseph Karlowski! You listening to me?” shouted the foreman.
“Ngh, nosir, Geoff,” grunted a dreary Yoseph. He rubbed his temples with his massive hand. He shook his head, trying to dislodge the heaviness on his eyes, and then looked up at the blond foreman, who was perched atop the forward edge of the trailer.
Geoff, the foreman, scowled at Yoseph for a few seconds, until he looked at the rest of his crew. “Alright guys, we’re two houses behind schedule, so it looks like we’re going to have to commit a night out here tomorrow, so come prepared, cause I’m not gonna supply anything besides the water. So, when you get up, don’t forget the extra rations!” The blond man looked at each of his workers until he was satisfied that the message had sunk in. He stood on the lower bar and walked down the side opposite of Yoseph and leapt to the next cart. Yoseph glanced around at his sleepy coworkers as the two were shaking the lethargy off. About twenty minutes later, the tractor pulled into a parking garage and shuttered to a stop. The crew scooped up their bags and headed into the stairwell. Yoseph numbly walked up to the seventh floor, stopping every one and a half floors. He haphazardly walked to his room, which was a converted cubicle with a drape covering the opening. He collapsed into the pile of blankets that was his bed, burrowing in and kicking off his boots, quickly falling asleep.
Yoseph woke sometime after dawn, but before the morning siren. After lying in bed for a few minutes staring blankly at his padded cloth walls, he literally rolled out of bed and stripped out of his grimy clothes. He walked, naked, to the showers on the floor, which had been converted from a men’s restroom. While standing beneath the stream of lukewarm water, the morning siren sounded, marking the beginning of a new day. The sound jarred him from his water-induced trance and he quickly finished washing. Grabbing a fresh towel from Gwen, who was responsible for laundry for the floor, he finished drying on his way back to his room, greeting some of the late risers on their way to the showers. Once in his cubicle, he packed up his sack with a change of clothes and rations for the next two days. Slowly lumbering down the stairs, the laborer entered the garage and began looking for his train.
“Hey! Greens! Over here!” shouted Geoff, the green team foreman. Yoseph sought out the voice until he found his boss standing on the back of the tractor with Fredrick giving him an uncomfortable look from the driver’s seat. “Hey, Yoseph!” He continued when he saw the tall dark haired man approaching him. “You ready for a long one?”
Yoseph grunted in a reluctant agreement. Tossing his pack back aboard the trailer and climbing aboard, he settled down into a spot very near where he was last time. Fifteen minutes later, they green team train lurched out of the garage, returning to the camp from the previous night about an hour later. The team disembarked with the tram chugging off to the farms to pick up goods from the fields.
“Alright boys, I need you to finish up your projects from yesterday! Michael! Doug! When you get done, I need you to work on 1311!” yelled out the foreman. A general nod emerged from the group, as they turned and scattered to their worksites. Yoseph returned to lot 1307, careful to avoid the twisted piles of rebar and coaxial cable. Set down his sack and rummaged around until he found his set of six railroad stakes. He set to pounding the stakes into the reinforced concrete of a house. He finished the last fifty square feet of the house, before sitting down to eat lunch.
“Hey Yoseph,” called out Doug, who had just scaled a mound of concrete fragments, “where’s this 1311 that I’m supposed to be deconstructing?” Yoseph took a swig of water to wash down his dehydrated algae.
Pointing down the vague remains of a road, he replied, “It’s the one down on the right. Yellow one with brick. Still got the windows in it.”
“Damn, that’s a lot of work, he want it done by Tuesday?”
Yoseph smiled, “I wish, by Friday.” As Doug was shaking his head in mock disbelief, Yoseph said, “There’ll be three of us on there. I just need to finish sorting 1307 and I’ll be done.” He paused to take another bite of his ration cake and wash it down, “So, what’s your specialty?”
Doug looked at him curiously, “As a deconstruction engineer?” Yoseph nodded and Doug continued, “Oh, well, I’m a lumber reclamation specialist or some bullshit like that. Mayor likes his titles, but basically I cut the wood and drywall into pieces.”
“Ah, yeah, I’m a, uhm, an artificial stone pulverizer and relocator, which simply means,” Yoseph picks up some small concrete fragments beside him, “I crush cement.
“Well, I guess I’ll get stared on the second story of 1311. See ya in a bit,” said Doug as he began to walk past Yoseph to the indicated house.
Yoseph packed away his remaining rations, started the last part of the land recycling, turning up the dirt. He detached the shovel from his rucksack and scooped away the remaining fragments of the house foundation. The rock smasher broke up the top compact soil to allow better water flow for next years fields, and after a short break, he moved onto the next lot 1311.
Doug had already begun dismantling the non-load bearing walls as Yoseph had climbed onto the roof and started smashing the chimney. Night began to fall over the area, with night sirens starting to echo in the distance before the local one sounded. The crews packed up and returned to camp, choosing their tents, shacks, and lean-tos in a first-come basis.
Yoseph set his stuff into a tall tent, but he manly sat on a smooth rock, looking into the well-defined stars. Two hours he sat there, contemplating the reasons to stay in free world… or in the world at all. After those two hours, the city lights began to fade and the worker retreated back into his tent for rest before another long day on the job.
Dawn greeted the engineers already rolling out of their shelters. Geoff, the foreman, had started another fire and greeted the workers, as they approached it. “Thank god it didn’t rain, that’d make this frigid morning absolutely unbearable.” He was answered by a set of un-amused glares, telling him that it was too cold and early for him to be so awake and chipper. “Well, boys,” Geoff continued, while rubbing his hands together, “let’s eat some chow and get this day over with!”
The boys, including Yoseph, numbly ate their breakfasts, changed into a clean shirts and fresh socks, and returned to their worksites. After another tedious and exhausting day at work, the sunset’s amber sky brought the sirens of day’s end. Returning to the camp to wait for the transport, Doug, Michael, and Yoseph sat near each other discussing their upcoming day off.
“Well, I hope to finally go on a date with a girl on my floor,” said Doug. “It’d be nice to spend some time not with you sweaty goons.”
Michael and Yoseph grunted in agreement. “I’ll probably go up to watch the B set school play.” Suggested Yoseph, “I mean, I don’t have any kids, but... I dunno, I feel like I should support my block.”
Michael chuckled and rubbed his close cropped hair, “Hell, I think I’m just going to drink and sleep.” He smiled, looking at his two companions for some agreement, but got half shrugs instead. “Well, I…” He was distracted by a man jogging down the lit road. The whole camp fell silent as the runner handed a note to the foreman.
Geoff read the noted, nodded at the carrier, who went and sat on a rock nearby, and looked around at his team. “Well,” he began, “the tractor broke an axel, it’s blocking the road and they can’t fix it until daylight, so we’ll be here again tonight. It’ll bring rations in the morning and take those who have tomorrow off back. Sorry boys.”
The camp seemed to let out a resigned sigh as people who had been conversing pull out their bedding and went to sleep. Yoseph, seeing that his companions had done this, had no choice but to follow suit.
Yoseph slept restlessly, waking up long before dawn with the waning half moon bright in the sky. He slipped his boots back on, taking his lantern and shovel from his sack, and going for a small walk. About ten minutes away from the camp, he got the impression that he was being followed, but every time turned to look, there was only shifting soil or rocks. Unconvinced, Yoseph set the lantern down behind a pile of rebar and concrete and circled around behind nearby mounds until he say a silhouette travel close to the lamp. Yoseph crept back near the figure until he brushed up against some debris, causing a small pile to come sliding down around his feet. The figure, startled, began to run away from the noise, except in his hurry, he snagged the rebar near the lantern and planted his face into rubble. Yoseph rounded the rebar pile and seeing his follower, he exclaimed, “Geoff?! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Geoff rolled onto his back and replied, “You know, I was wondering where you were going. Then I end up with a face full of rocks. Hell if I let you lead again!”
Yoseph sighed, “I couldn’t sleep, decided to go for a walk…”
“Some walk! Through all of this shit, at night… that’s dangerous, I mean…”
Yoseph heard something else besides his boss complaining and held his finger to his lips. Geoff looked at him curiously but quieted down and he heard what Yoseph had, a sound like three or four other people heading from a ways out towards the camp. Yoseph helped his friend up and shuttered the lantern, and they both followed the sounds to their source. The group consisted of three men and a woman wearing white mantles and wielding flashlights. Yoseph and Geoff traded expressions, both knowing that trouble was coming.
Before the sirens sounded, and even before the dawning sun was visible, the sputtering racket from the train woke everyone as it pulled into the gravel lot. As the green deconstruction workers began to pack their bedding up, Geoff spoke with the driver, Lowell, and collected a few parcels of food wrapped in a brown butcher paper. He distributed them amongst the men. Three men had ridden out with the train to replace the seven that had break today, as they traded places, Geoff walked over to Yoseph. Clasping him on the shoulder, he said, “Hey, I’m going to go talk to some people in the city. You just try to get 1311 done today and don’t say anything about last night.”
Yoseph nodded in silent agreement. He opened his fresh rations, ate, and packed up his gear. Returning to his small group, he picked up his tools and they proceeded to their site, passing the day piecewise breaking down the house with no sign of Geoff returning by the time the home-bound train arrived.
The crew, unfinished in destroying the house, climbed aboard the ride and waited for it to return them home, most for the first time in three days. Disembarking from the shuttle, Yoseph decided to go look for Geoff, hoping to find him on the first floor or in his room.
After depositing his gear up in his seventh floor cubicle, Yoseph proceeded down to a fifth floor outside office, the ones reserved for team leaders and special cases of workers. He knocked on the weak wooden door, hoping that the foreman was somewhere easy to find.
However, Geoff had not been back to his room except briefly to store his pack, much like Yoseph. Returning to the first floor, where the council and mayoral chambers were located, Yoseph continued his search for his blond friend. He found Geoff sitting on a stone bench outside the mayor’s office carrying a concerned and impatient look on his face.
“Hey Geoff, what’s up?” asked Yoseph as he approached the foreman, sitting beside him on the cold bench.
Geoff looked at his companion and sighed, “Well, they’re in there. Arrived . Must’ve continued on after we say them.” He rubbed his temples briefly, ending it with a deep breath. “I mean, what the hell are they doing here? Not only did they cause this… this hell that we’ve adapted two, but now the come to finish us?”
“Well, we don’t know anything yet,” replied Yoseph. “Maybe they’re in trouble and need resources?”
Geoff answered with an intolerant sigh. “You know that they had a plan for all this, they haven’t been trying to scrap by for the past two years, hell, not even the past four years. The holymen have been flourishing, leaving us to repair their zealous fanaticism.”
The two men locked glances over a few tense seconds when the mayor accompanied by the delegation broke their concentration. The mayor avoided eye contact with all of his constituents as he led the white-clothed group into the council room.
Geoff and Yoseph then began to stare incredulously at each other, saying in unison, “Oh, shit…”
The morning sirens filled the air, but they fell deaf on Yoseph, who was laying staring at a small picture taken only a few years ago pinned to the fabric with a sliver of wood. After the siren had ceased, he rolled out of bed and shuffled into the showers. After toweling off, he numbly dressed and picked up his sack.
Geoff met him in the parking garage as he was readying up the workers for travel. “Yo!” he called out. “Yoseph! You’re on break today, go relax.”
Yoseph let the sledge slip off his shoulder as he gently let it sink to the ground. He blankly nodded to Geoff and walked, dragging the tool behind him, out of the tower’s entrance. Geoff sighed, “Damn,” then turned his attention back to his men, prepping them for another hard day.
The tall, dark-haired Yoseph, wearing his typical work attire of tough denim pants and green corduroy blazer, was also a charm bracelet, loaded with eight famous U.S. Sears Tower Golden Gate to the Fountain of Youth, and on a simple thin chain around drooped around his neck. Yoseph heaved up his hammer after he had gotten it stuck on a knot of grasses escaping between the cracked downtown sidewalks.
Traveling for about an hour at his slow, stumbling pace, Yoseph finally reached the graveyard, or what had passed as a graveyard in the community that they had formed. They had been a few residents that protested with any sort of funeral; claiming is was a homage to the conquerors.
This argument was quickly dismissed as they widows and widowers took to a mob threatening their right for closure. The mayor, mother of the current mayor, had allowed a mass grave to be commissioned, but left it to the citizens to bury the dead and create headstones.
Yoseph quickly found the headstone that he carved. It had been the lumpy, misshapened one with unsteady scrawl carved into it. Kneeling on the large grave near the headstone, he tightly clutched the worn wooden handle of the sledge, closing his eyes for minutes while the dark, thick clouds passed in and out of the path of the sun.
Yoseph took a deep inhale, holding it as he made a silent pledge, and exhaling it slowly, as if it were some meditation technique to calm his nerves. He rested his hand softly on the yellowing grass atop the site, and he said in a nearly airless voice, “Never again, Queenie…”
A crunch on the autumn grass behind him caused Yoseph to turn quickly, revealing a middle-aged man with a dark sun-hardened skin and more salt than pepper hair. The approaching man was also wearing a white mantle and a look of concern and pity on his face.
“Good morning citizen,” said the approaching man. He continued walking closer to the grave and tried to give a fake, reassuring smile. “Did you lose them recently?”
Yoseph’s only reply was an enraged scowl and a twisting of his ungloved hands onto the worn sledge handle. The man to stand beside Yoseph and said to him, “How long ago was it? When your… Queenie went to embrace the loving arms of God?”
“Three years…” Yoseph whispered hoarsely, and clearing his throat, he repeated, “Three years.”
“I’m sure that she is in a better place now,” replied the holyman confidently. Yoseph stood blankly for a moment, digesting what the man had said. His face began to contort into a mask of venom.
Yoseph reached out next to him, snagging a fistful of the white linen, and pulled the man around to face him. After a few seconds of intense anger seeped out of Yoseph, the holyman smiled, “If you’re trying to intimidate me, you’re going to have to try much harder.”
Yoseph gave the man a brief shake before saying, “You’re the ones who killed her! If you had kept the freedom, then none of this wouldn’t have happened!”
“That’s simply not true. The Rebirth has never had momentum in this area. In fact, if she had simply answered the Calling, then I’m sure she would be alive and well now. Her death was her own choice.”
Yoseph shook the man again, before pushing him to the ground. Yoseph picked up his hammer and sack and started out of the small graveyard heading back into the city. “Damn holymen,” he muttered.
The evening siren cried out, reaching Yoseph as he stood with his head resting on the glass wall of the building. He stood with his eyes unfocused, absorbing the thick, dark clouds flowing away from the orange sun-soaked sky.
Gwen lightly placed her hand in the middle of his back, handing him an algae cake. He absently took the meal, eating it slowly. She then asked, “What’s wrong, Yoseph? You’ve been off all day.”
Yoseph swallowed another bite and shook his head, “Sorry Gwen. I just… I ran into some people who, well, I have issues with them.” He stepped back from the glass and gave her a forced smile. “I’ll be fine, so don’t worry about me.”
“Alright, well, if you need me, I’ll be downstairs.” Gwen patted his upper arm and left for the stairwells. Passing her on the way up was Geoff, who waved over to Yoseph. Yoseph gave another forced smile to his friend.
Geoff approached Yoseph shaking his head slightly. “So, I heard that you threatened a holyman today. Whatever happened to taking a day easy?”
Yoseph interrupted, “You know that they’re up to no good, Geoff. They’re probably hoping to take a free city without any difficulty, but we didn’t suffer their aftermath to accept some sort of union, right?” He paused to wait for a reply, “Right Geoff?”
Geoff sighed and shrugged, “You know Yoseph, I don’t think any one is keen on fighting. Maybe it was like you said, a trade deal or something…”
Yoseph scoffed, “You know that that’s as much shit when I said it last night. We got nothing that they’d want! We rebuild this city from the hell that they made it and I’m not going to let them take what we all put blood into.”
Geoff bobbed his head slightly, “It wasn’t all them. There was chaos, and we just couldn’t get control of the situation quickly enough. All hoping that someone else would pick up the slack left by the Fall, or their damn Rebirth.”
Yoseph cocked his head with an idea popping into his head. “You know, Geoff, when I was talking with that shroud earlier, he said something that I didn’t realize as true until just now. He had said that Queenie’s death was her own fault, since she chose to not answer the call, but that’s really why we’re all out here, right? The Rebirth came, followed quickly by the Calling, and the free men chose to stay here, and… be free.”
Geoff considered the words briefly before replying, “I had heard a quote once, no idea from where really, but it went something like ‘better to rule in hell than to serve in heaven.’ I mean, I don’t know about heaven and hell anymore, but they made a heaven and gave us free reign over hell.”
“I remember reading about the Rebirth before it had a proper name, back when the internet was still up.” Yoseph paused to consider his words, “Do you ever think of how it was?”
Geoff instantly shook his head, “Can’t afford to. Once I realized that this wasn’t some bad dream, I put all that away… except for Beth and Sam, but I’m sure they’re fine.”
“If this goes how we hope it doesn’t, you have a chance to find out.” Yoseph handed Geoff half of his remaining cake and raising it up, he said, “To Pandora!” Before Geoff could respond, the sirens erupted for a third time that day.
The stairwells were packed as Geoff and Yoseph tried to push their way down with the rest of the building tenants. Yoseph had already formed ideas of that the siren was for, but other residents were discussing possibilities ran from a party to a group of crashers.
As the herd emptied out onto the first floor, Yoseph saw over the crowd that the council, mayor, and the holymen were standing in a line outside the building facing the front doors.
The mayor stepped forward and said, “I’m sorry to call you all out here after dark, but I wanted to announce this as soon as possible, rather than let our guests here raise suspicions over the next few days.” He looked around at the men in line with him and taking a deep breath, “Our small city is now and forever will be willing and faithful members of the Godly. For those that knew me well, I’ve always been a believer, but my family has lived here for generations and we could never leave… But I’m done being mayor and I wanted to give you all the best possible future for you all and your children…”
The crowd was generally silent, with meek boos and whistles scattered amongst the few hundred people. Yoseph look incredulously at Geoff whose taut eyes embodied frustration and disbelief. Yoseph felt stunned and outraged that not only had these mantles come to annex their home, but they had also been invited by a betrayal of the mayor. He began to walk towards the mayor and council.
“So, what about freedom then?” He asked in a booming voice. Many heads turned to face the man that dared to speak with expressions ranging from the grateful and the irritated. “We’re adults here. We’re human and we can decide for ourselves.”
“Those wishing to be pious missed their Calling,” continued Yoseph. “And I don’t think that we must sacrifice our way of life to accommodate their views of god!”
The holyman that Yoseph had already come in contact with stepped forward and spoke, “Your life now is a meager existence! The Realms has electricity all day, food better than your shit cakes, and the faith and belonging is wonderful. Your life here is hell without us and your life after here is an even worse one.”
“Hardly!” retorted Yoseph. “The reason that the Rebirth happened is because humans had lost the fear and the faith in your beliefs. Well,” he turned to face the crowd, “I choose to build a new stronger future from the chaos that they left behind. Together, we beat the warlords. Together, we build up this community, this city. Together, we can defy the Godly and end this fake renaissance!”
The mayor turned a brilliant red and rushed at the engineer. Yoseph saw the crowd parting about him and quickly turned, bringing his meaty fist swinging beside him. The layman’s blow drove the mayor to the ground and the rest of the council stood shocked. Yoseph looked down at the man in disbelief, then raising his gaze to the council and finally the holymen.
The mayor, forcing himself up from the ground, said, “I’m doing this for us. Can’t you see how much better life will be?” Yoseph remained silent and the mayor continued, “This isn’t a life out here! The Godly offer peace, security, and God. There’s ample food, electricity… it’s what we need.”
“We survived the Rebirth. We survived the warlords. We can continue to survive without their god.” Yoseph turned back to the now-risen mayor, “Sir, I think you missed your calling.”
The mayor clenched his thick red fists, grimacing. His eyes scrolled across the throng of residents until he released his grip, sighing, “I was obviously wrong… I just...”
He was silenced with a firm hand on his shoulder by the mantle that previously had confronted Yoseph. His penetrating stare digging into Yoseph, but it fell against his confident resistance. He spoke with slow and quiet venom, “The Council of Godly will return to save you. You all will be reborn into service of God!”
His gaze slipped from each citizen to the next, until he turned and walked to his comrades. Pausing briefly in their ranks, he gave them a slight nod. The troop turned and began their journey back to the Realm, lands under protection of the Godly. The mayor looked quickly at the holymen and then the residents. He sighed and started a slow jog to catch up with the departing mantles. Most of the city council followed and a few citizens broke from the crowd to follow their leader and their faith.
A disembodied voice called out to the leaving mean and women, “You’re traitors!” Yoseph turned to face the crowd.
“There are no traitors!’ he called out. “Only men who make choices. They made their choice. What we have to decide is… what do we do now?”
Morning came after a long night of discussion. As the night progressed, people formed groups of like minded individuals and chose one person to represent them so the rest of them could sleep. Arguments came from the collection of about forty-five people actively debating what to do, with twice that many lounging around trying to participate in the process. The morning siren did not sound, since all the remaining officials had been involved.
One small group called out, “Elections today! We can do it right now.” And another retorted, “But each person should be able to vote. Let’s find some candidate and vote until he… or she, gets a majority.”
Geoff, who had been selected to speak for the engineers, had to interject, “Well, what about between now and then? Who’s going to be interim mayor? He didn’t have a deputy or assistant to fill the spot.”
Much like typical politics, each faction continued to ask their questions, but answer no one else’s. After about another two hours, Geoff proposed the solution that ended up resolving the situation. “Hey,” he started “why don’t we vote on of the remaining city council members to be interim mayor ourselves? And once the mayor is installed, we can look into politicking and campaigning and such.”
A general murmur of agreement rustled through the group. “Alright,” said one group leader. “Who’s left on the city council?” Two men and two women stood up. They had been grouped together and fairly silent throughout the whole process and looked hesitant in becoming interim mayor. “Well, do any of you want to act as the interim mayor?”
The four exchanged glances. They were fairly young and had not served long on the council. A few silent moments passed until they all nodded their head in agreement. One tan-skinned young man with sleek black hair stepped forward. “I’ll volunteer.”
Geoff and the other council members looked the council member up and down analytically. Geoff was slow to ask, “What’s your name?”
The man weakly smiled, “Raoul, sir.” He looked back at his peers, eyes searching for encouragement. He turned back towards Geoff and the others and said, “I’ve been on the council for about three weeks now.”
The other representatives traded apprehensive glances before Geoff said, “Alright… well, I guess you’re in. You’re interim mayor. You’ll need to take care of running the city until we can set up a new mayor. Good luck kid.” The representatives gave a collective half-nod and stood to go inside. Sleep was long overdue.
Raoul sat in the office that had, until this morning, seemed unreachable to him. Across the dented, worn desk sat Yoseph, who was examining the room about him. It may have once been a security office with remnants of audio and video equipment hanging from one wall. Raoul greeted his first visitor, “Hello Yoseph. Thanks for coming.”
Yoseph smiled, “Anything for the mayor.”
Raoul smiled back, “Well, uh, I guess that I’ll get straight to business… uhm, I asked you here today to thank you for what you did. I… can I confide in you?” Yoseph’s eyebrows arched and he nodded slowly. “Ah, good. Yoseph, I’m seriously scared shit-less. I barely knew my way around the council room. I have no idea what the mayor did day to day, and he didn’t have an assistant or, well” Raoul looked around the room. Yoseph’s eyes followed the path to a pile of loose sheets of paper that had tiny scribbles on them.
“I see. But I don’t understand why you asked me here,” replied Yoseph. “I mean, I’m a layman. I know nothing of management or politics.”
“Oh! I didn’t ask you here to help. I wanted to thank you for the opportunity. I, like many others, didn’t want to live under the iron fist of the Godly, and I, uh, thank you.”
“Ah…” said a slightly confused Yoseph. “Well, you’re welcome. I mean, I did it for myself, but it was what I thought was right. That’s the best anyone can do.” He looked out the cracked door to see the setting sun, “I probably should go get some rest. And, uh, I think the siren needs to be sounded... Anyway, good night, mister mayor.”
Yoseph walked to the stairwell and began climbing up to his floor, passing people who seemed to recognize him. He continued up the stairs, exiting on his floor. Five people greeted Yoseph as he walked past, which was five more than a typical day. Arriving at his bedding, he collapsed into them and drifted into a deep rest, not having had slept in over a day.
Yoseph awoke early the next day to a predawn sky filled with dark clouds. He once again leaned on the glass window, allowing the dawn to come over him. When the orb rose above the horizon, he separated himself from the chilled glass and returning to his quarters. He quickly stripped and showered, dressed and packed, and headed to the garage to await travel.
Nearly an hour had past before Yoseph realized that no siren had yet sounded. Leaving his gear behind, he returned to the first floor of the tower. Few people were out in the building’s atrium, but a large collection of noise emanated from what once was a ballroom.
Raoul stood upon a makeshift platform and was trying to address the throng that had circled around him. “Listen! It has to be done.” He said, “The old system was set up for governing a dependent city, but we’re more than that. We’re a mini-state. The old nation won’t ever come back, so we need to form a new one here and grow and expand.”
“You have no right to change our way of life!” called out a middle-aged man near close to the interim-mayor.
“I’m not! The next person voted in shouldn’t be the mayor, they should be so much more than that!” said Raoul, defending himself.
Geoff, who was dressed in full work clothes, asked, “So, will we decide this before the true vote, or with this be transitional?”
Raoul paused, once again describing an idea that had not been fully developed, “Uh, I think that the new… executive, should reshape the government, but maybe campaign on those few issues like their desired government.”
“Well… who’s going to be running? Should we make others nominate candidates?” asked a tall and lanky energy manager named Dave.
“We’ll make indirect nominations. The deadline for signing up any nomination is second siren tomorrow.” replied Raoul. “So, I think that’s settled. I’ll set out a ballot box to be counted tomorrow.”
“Alright, we’ll spread it by word of mouth that anyone interested needs to have someone else nominate them,” said Dave. He then stood and left the large room. Raoul looked dissatisfied with the results of the meeting, but he stood and began rummaging through debris piles in the large room while the other councilors filed out of the room. As the last man cleared the exit, Raoul had found what he was looking for.
Placing it on the middle of the table, Yoseph, who was still watching from the doorway, saw that it was a comments and suggestions box with a tiny broken padlock on it. Raoul, noticing the large man for the first time, waved him into the room. “Good morning Yoseph, care to make a recommend anyone for mayor?”
“I dunno,” shrugged Yoseph. “I don’t talk to a lot of people, so I’d have no idea who might make a good leader…” He trailed off, realizing that the young man in front of him was staring, almost pleading for the recommendation. He sighed, “Well, uh, where’d the ballot?”
“Oh! Right!” exclaimed Raoul. He returned to the area where he found the comment box and managed to find the accompanying paper forms. He presented the small slip of paper and his personal pen to the voter.
Yoseph filled out the name ‘Mayor Raoul’ on the small slip, folded it in half, and stuffed it into the voting box. He nodded at the interim mayor and walked out of the room. Yoseph proceeded back to the garage to find a few workers milling around, but no sign of the foreman, Geoff.
Sighing, Yoseph traveled back upstairs to collapse back in his bedding, hoping that something would arise for him to do. It had been two full days of not working and Yoseph began to feel restless and unproductive.
Geoff woke the man about twenty-five minutes later. “You still work for me?” he asked sarcastically. Yoseph shook the sleep off and then nodded slowly. “Alright, get up; I got stuff for you to do.”
Yoseph stood and reached for his rucksack and tools before Geoff grunted, “You won’t need those. You’re doing some learning today.” Yoseph looked puzzled, but he laid the sack back down. Geoff started walking to the stairwell and beckoned Yoseph to follow.
As they left the building through the front doors, Geoff slowed to allow Yoseph to walk side-by-side with him. He began with a heavy sigh, “Yoseph, I respect you a lot and, well, I’m not sure life would be the same here without your choice two days ago. But… I want you to do something for me and it’s about the election”
While he paused, Yoseph felt like he had to interrupt, “Geoff, I already nominated someone. I don’t think that I can nominate you too. I’m really sorry. Raoul kinda badgered me into nominating him.”
“Oh, you nominated him, eh? Well, someone was going to do it. If not you, then one of his council goons. He may seem like a meek, fresh civil servant, but he really just wants the control. I don’t know what the twelfth floor elected him. But… I don’t want to be nominated; I was letting you know that I nominated you.”
“Oh.” said a surprised Yoseph, who stopped suddenly. “Why would you think I would be good at that? Or even want to do it? I’m a layman, not a politician.”
“Exactly,” replied Geoff, “I know that the worse is yet to come and any true politician would just flounder about. We don’t have anyone with experience left, between the Calling and the wars, so someone practical is our best bet for survival. I mean, you’re adaptable, going from a programmer to a layman isn’t the easiest shift.”
“Well, it’s not like I had much choice. Writing scripts that won’t help anyone anymore is really not a good business plan, so I took what I got.” explained Yoseph. “The practical stuff is something anyone could do…”
“We shall see. We’ll have to get you elected first.” Geoff smiled, “Gwen has offered to help.”
“Gwen knew before me? Who else knows?”
Geoff chuckled slightly, “Oh, the green team, the seventh floor residents, and Fredrick found out, so probably the farmers by now.”
“Dammit Geoff, this will be embarrassing when I lose…” complained Yoseph.
“Yoseph, there’s no I in team. We’ll be doing this together.”
Two days had passed. When the ballot box, otherwise a comments box, was opened only six of the fourteen nominations were unique and legible. Raoul announced the nominations, “Yoseph Karlowski. Mayor Raoul. Johan Ingbert. Laura Cooksey. Fredick MacGill. Joey… uh, no last name here, just Joey. Anyone know who Joey is?” The gathered crowd looked amongst themselves, with the name Freddie echoing around throughout. “No?” the interim-mayor continued, “Well, his loss then… Elections will be held once week from today. All residents of the floor will pick a candidate by popular vote and appoint someone to vote in a floor election. A nominee must win nine floors. If no one gets that, then it’ll be a run off of the top three. Everyone understand?”
The four candidates bobbed their heads. “Good luck to everyone,” said Laura has she departed.
Yoseph turned to Gwen and Geoff, who were beaming. “Guys, you look kinda silly. I mean, I’m not sure how much of a chance I have… Probably next to none.”
Geoff continued grinning, “Well, we’ll see. I think we should get some rest and then get ready for the election.”
Gwen patted him on the back, “We’ll do this big guy. I’m confident that you’ll win them over. Let’s head up.” The trio proceeded up the stairs and headed to their rooms.
Yoseph only slept a few hours. He woke to the moonlight bleeding over the room. All the city lights had been turned off to save power and maybe let the photocells absorb some of the moon’s reflections. He slowly dressed as the moon floated higher into the navy sky. He headed downstairs, back down the stony path to the grave site. Careful to avoid the large displaced stones, Yoseph made it to the deformed headstone. He knelt again at the grassy yard.
Yoseph spoke softly, “I think I’m not done yet baby. When… when you died I gave up fighting people. Freedom from the warlords wasn’t worth your life to me… I know we did what was right, but… I guess I should have known that if you mess with the mob, the mob hits you hard. I’m sorry about not being there in your final hours… I’m really sorry that I…”
He took a sigh that paused over several seconds. He sunk from his knees to sit on the untrimmed grass. His eyes drifted from the roughly etched gravestone to the omniscient moon. “I worked so hard so I don’t remember. Remembering all of that is just… exhausting. Like… trying to understand what all was happening. I was at the office, scanning the news sites for new up to date information, I loved information. But I loved you more. I always knew the news, but you… you understood it.” He sighed again.
Thinking back to a time before the Fall was always comforting to Yoseph. He gave a relaxed smile to think about the relaxed, stress-free life of, well, comfort back then. He continued to talk to the chilly autumn air, “You knew what was coming, while I saw what was happening… how did you know? I need your help on this one, shit, I need you here with me anyway.”
He face tightened with resolution, “No. This is too much…” He pushed himself up and patted the gravel off of his hands. “We… I must keep moving on. I’ll change it all, but I don’t have anyone to help me shape it…”
Yoseph retreated back up the hill, stopping outside the building’s front doors. His hand rested on the silver handle, while he examined his semi-transparent reflection in the smoky glass door. “So,” he said to the image, “this is when it all changes. I hope hell is worth freedom...”
Yoseph once again rolled out of bed at the sound of the first siren. He stripped down for his shower, stepped out of the cubicle, and run dead into Geoff.
“About time you get up!” Said Geoff as he looked Yoseph up and down. “Go hop in the shower; we’ll be waiting to talk once you get out.”
Yoseph followed the directions, quickly showering, drying, and dressing. He found Geoff, Gwen, and two others women standing just outside the front doors. “Morning Geoff, Gwen, ladies.”
“About damn time, let’s get some breakfast and talk about you getting elected.” Said Geoff as he started heading down the road to almost condemned building. The old art supply store had been converted into a small restaurant which served non-algae foods, like rice, corn, or beans.
Yoseph and the rest grabbed some plates and spoons and passed through the line collecting some of each of whatever was in the large fire-cooked pots. They sat on a circle of repurposed wood stools from deconstruction. Yoseph started the conversation, “So, We have a week until the next mayor will be elected. What can we do to try to make them vote for me? Do I campaign on every floor?”
Geoff sat pondering for a few moments, “Well, you should be on the work sites talking to people during the day, maybe save some time for the floor residents, but the labors are cross floor, gives us a chance on all floors.” The three women nodded in agreement.
“Well, we have to figure out how you’re different that all of your competitors and why you’re the best choice to take the job.” Added Gwen. “So, why you?
Yoseph gave a slight chuckle, “I’m not sure, Geoff was the one who nominated me.”
One of the two tall blonde women said, “That will not help us amaze the voters. We’ll need something specific and heroic. Do you have anything to work with? Anything different from the normal person, that is.”
Yoseph contemplated the issue before deciding to mention all of his young story, “Well, I’m not going to lie, so whatever we say, it’ll be facts. I guess all I can do is tell my story and hope people recognize that I’m not some waste.” He looked about the building, hoping no strong winds would crush it. “Let’s go outside, alright?”
After the group had finished their breakfast, the proceeded to a resting field only a few blocks away from both the restaurant and the office building. Yoseph leaned on a solid grafittied concrete slab that was elevated by a large stack of bricks. “Alright, well, here it goes:”
“Six months before the Fall, I was a computer programmer. I worked a white collar job and had to adapt to the post-Fall world. As the Fall approached, I was intrigued, constantly checking for updates to… well, it all. But before people had the sense to do anything, then it happened. We all know that the Council of the Godly left our city in the Wilderness. They stole our lives to make their Realm.. The Fall was in full motion. We all know how society fell apart. First the internet and media, then the feds just disappeared. States crumbled in the ensuing chaos, allowing their tyranny disguised as peace and prosperity to take hold. Only the mayor and the council were left to provide for us.” He paused to take a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly.
When he opened his eyes again, he saw that not only the four were near him, but a small collection of people. He nodded and continued, “In six months, I saw most of my friends and family all gone from here. They either answered the Calling or… they were unable to adapt and wander deep into the Wilderness to die. Organized crime, be it the mob, gangs, or the warlords, came swarming it, taking advantage of our weak government. For two years, we faced their oppression. For two whole years, many of us were starved and tortured, few of those are left today. Independence
“No one from that battle is left today,” continued Yoseph. “An infection broke out shortly thereafter claiming everyone that had been weakened by the skirmish, besides me. The worst part of that is that we had been out of antibiotics for over a year… Our only option was to be with them as the disease claimed them in feverish agony. I returned to my lay life, trying to do good with every day of work…”
His hazel eyes made contact the growing group of listeners. “But now, the Godly are back, ready to annex us and force us into their ways. I fought for freedom once, and together, we can choose to hold onto our freedom, our right to choose, and our way of life. This is not the life that we once lived, but we’re still here, we survive. The holymen promise to provide our needs, to return us to the ways before their own violent deception, but we would have no freedom, forced into their control. What is life without choice? A life without freedom is an unending death.”
Yoseph nodded to Geoff and Gwen. He observed the crowd’s faces ranging from appreciation to contemplation, but he did not see any disbelief or annoyance. He then whispered to himself, “That’s it then.”
The days from the nomination until the election slipped into the past. Yoseph refined and shared his speech with many groups of people over those quick days. He traveled along the tractors, talking with the deconstruction workers, the farmers, and the myriad of other field based workers. He talked with the cleaners and cooks, trying his best to not interfere with their hot and heavy work. From the electricians and plumbers, to the doctors and nurses, and from the mechanics to the foundry, Yoseph took time to discuss issues with the people, as well as giving his speech.
The other candidates hounded members of their own floor and a few spread to the surrounding floors. Only Raoul campaigned to the general population by standing and greeting people as they left and entered the building. The week quickly dropped to only one day before the election.
Yoseph sat on a bench with Geoff, rotating an algae cake absentmindedly. “Thank you Geoff.” Said Yoseph in a quiet voice. “I don’t know why, but this whole thing made me feel more alive that I have over the past two years. So, thank you, regardless with whatever happens.”
“Well, I’m glad to be of help. And I wouldn’t have done this if I didn’t think you could win, or could do the job,” responded Geoff. “Plus Michael and Doug can get along without you on 1311. But I’m not sure you’ll thank me later, this will be an enormous responsibility…” Geoff bit into his own cake. “I guess you should go to each floor and motivate people. The election begins at third siren tomorrow. Good luck to you my friend.” He stood and proceeded up the street, back into the tower, leaving Yoseph alone on the bench.
The autumn days were growing shorter, noticeably so. The sirens have both started wailing in complete darkness, with no sun reaching up from the horizon. Yoseph paced beneath the flickering lamp, hoping that the next twenty-four hours would ride smoothly and knowing that it wouldn’t.
He briskly set down the alleyway to the Edge. Observing where the world for him changed, more-so than with the actual Fall, he was disappointed with the remains. The dumpster that had been such a huge cover was merely half of the size he remembered. The back lot that had held the warlords seemed like it now could barely fit half as many men as he remembered. “Maybe I’m not such a hero, after all…” said Yoseph, although no air had passed through his lips.
Turning back, the sickening nostalgia smashed into his gut. His brain showing him illusions of the past, of Queenie slouched against the muddy-brown brick. Her ghostly chest no longer moving, but Yoseph stomach still wrenched, the pain resonating throughout his entire body. He shook his head in disbelief and walked past the phantom, returning to the tower.
The first siren rang out into the pre-dawn morning. Yoseph had already been awake, sitting on his mound of bedding. He ground his left fist into his palm anxiously. He heard a stream of people funneling to the showers and sighed. Yoseph slipped on his boots and began the climb up the nine flights to the seventeenth floor. He stepped through the door way and realized that this floor was completely different from his. It was bizarre and disorienting, but he managed to locate the public showers. Standing in front of the tiled opening, he called out, “Good morning! My name is Yoseph Karlowski and I’m running for mayor. I’d appreciate it if you all voted for me tonight. If you have any questions, I’ll be down in the garage at about . Thanks!.”
He smiled at people who were rolling their eyes as they passed and ventured back to the stairwell. He repeated this all the way down to the second floor. He stopped to rejuvenate his dry throat and to scarf down a bland, beige cake. He caught his breath and then headed for the garage. Raoul was standing at the door leading into the three story parking garage.
“Hey!” called out the interim-mayor. He placed the palm of his hand firmly on Yoseph’s chest. “You know that I’m going to win this, right? I’m the only true politician running. Only I can do what’s right for our city.”
“Raoul,” replied Yoseph coolly. “You’ll do what you think is best for us all. And I’ll do the same. I think that I could do as good of a job as you, given what I expect to happen.”
“That won’t happen. The city will remain strong and free and no holyman is ever going to strip that from us.”
“Raoul, they already did.” Retorted Yoseph, as he brushed aside Raoul blocking hand and continued into the garage. He found a group of twenty five to thirty people milling around in the garage. As he approached, he vaguely recognized some of them as people who sighed or rolled their eyes earlier. “Good afternoon all.” He called out as he approached. “I’m sorry if I’m a little late, but I am now at your full disposal.”
The group of people collected in the relaxed a little bit, as if relieved that they were not forced to remain in the damp garage for no reason. They flooded him with question each pertaining to their individual concerns. Yoseph slowly sorted out their questions, answering each one in as thoughtful and reflective way possible. Some citizens looked satisfied and wandered off after having been answered, others scoffed and stormed off after a particular question, often one they did not ask, but a few stayed the entire session, trying to learn as much as Yoseph was willing to say.
Almost two hours later, no questions remained and Yoseph thanked the people remaining and headed out of the garage. He perched himself on a pile of smooth concrete. Picking up a small piece of rubble and a casing from a handgun bullet, he held them together in one hand and relaxed, purposely sliding down the debris and watching the grey-tinged clouds drifting eastward.
A group of children, probably out on some school assignment, sprinted past the lounging figure, but their teacher stopped next to Yoseph. She said, “Hello Yoseph. My name is Susanna.”
Yoseph nodded in acknowledgement as he shifted back up the artificial rock. “Good afternoon Susanna.”
“I just wanted to wish you luck tomorrow.” She continued, “I was a teacher before all of this, and it’s just so different that the generation that comes of age soon won’t be able to do anything with their elders. They’d come in knowing that this is the way of life, not what it was before…”
Yoseph was slightly startled but replied, “Well, no matter what, I’ll try to let them understand the taste of freedom. I mean, what other reason could there for living like this?”
Susanna sighed, “You don’t know kids very well, do you? They’re adaptable, that’s for sure, but they pick up information from everywhere. They’ll know that what you say and what really is true are two completely different things. Anyway, good luck tomorrow, you have my vote.”
A young lad came rushing from the garage and clamped his hand on Yoseph’s shoulder and exclaimed, panting, “Quick, Raoul, killed, Laura.” Yoseph quickly slid to his feet and followed the runner.
Although the lad had not been correct in his phrasing, someone was indeed dead and the murderer was being held. Raoul was dead, a large, bloody puncture wound in his abdomen. The cause was likely from what looked to be a railway spike embedded into the red wound. Two day-off deconstruction engineers were holding Laura, one of the mayoral candidates. She was not attempting to escape, but instead staring incredulously at the drying, rusty liquid on her arms.
Yoseph and the lad stood there temporarily, waiting for some magistrate to return with collected evidence. Despite having a near breakdown of society since the Fall, the city still maintained a code of laws and an elected official to observe and judge on the violation of those rules. About thirty five minutes of waiting until the judge returned, holding a white shawl crumpled in his hand.
“Oh dammit,” exclaimed Yoseph weakly. “She was a mantle?” The magistrate nodded his head slowly.
The old magistrate sighed, “Confine her. The new mayor will have to deal with when he gets elected tomorrow.” His weary eyes focused on the corpse near his feet. “No family, so young… Bury him.”
Yoseph helped the messenger carry the body of the interim-mayor to the grassy park, a little past the mass grave. They returned to collect some supplies. As Yoseph broke up a larger piece of rock for the headstone, the lad had begun the grave. Yoseph then took over the digging as the assistant started engraving.
“Do you happen to know his full name?” asked the lad. “Oh, I’m Johnnie, by the way.”
Yoseph nodded, wiping sweat from the brow. “His name was Raoul Morales, if he had any middle or religious names, I don’t think anyone knew about them.”
Johnnie bowed his head solemnly, “May you rest in peace. I don’t know what you believed, if anything, but may whatever you hoped for be there.”
Yoseph frowned, wishing that he knew more about the young man before him. He gently tapped the headstone into a shovel indentation above the grave. The two men made eye contact, bowed their head in silence once more, and returned up the gravel path to the tower.
A crowd had gathered in the lobby with people pressing for answers. The elderly magistrate had lost his voice trying to shout over the ruckus answering questions. Yoseph pushed through the crowd to the old man and lightly grabbed his arm. He looked down at him and realized that the official was exhausted and near his limit. Yoseph began shouting for calm in the throng.
“Hey!” he boomed. “Listen you!” The thunder of voices drooped to a mutter. “Raoul Morales with murdered this evening. He was buried just a few minutes ago. The suspect apparently found at the scene, covered in the victim’s blood. She is being held until after the election. She was also one of the candidates, Laura, but more importantly, she was a holywoman, probably left here by the mayor’s group.”
After pausing for the yells to recede, he continued, “Our best bet would to be to go rest and be prepared to cast votes tomorrow. Rest well all!” A dissatisfied crowed filed out of the lobby to the stairwells. Night had set on the small city, which set a new path less than a day later.
Yoseph sat in his office, still unused to spending the day sitting after several years of hard toiling. He knew that he had a lot of work to do, but somehow the election seemed like it was still ahead. During his first week as mayor, Yoseph had tried to drastically change the way people were represented, but he met more resistance than he originally expected.
The influence and threat of the Council loomed in the near future. His first action was to punish the captured spy. Without her, the elections may have gone to Raoul, who appeared very competent to the citizens, but since his death, most of the votes went to Yoseph, who had been recognized from one of his several speeches.
A brief knock on his ajar door revealed Geoff’s head peaking in. “Hello, mister mayor.” He fully entered the room and sat in the chair across from Yoseph and continued, “So, now that you’re there, what’re you going to do?”
Yoseph sighed, “You know, Geoff, I really don’t know. I mean, I see what going to be happening soon. I know that the Godly machine will come back, ready to annex us willing or not, and if we don’t do something, anything, we’re going to be absorbed and lost in that… monster.”
Geoff tilted his head slightly and said, “Well, we’d be alive if we were incorporated peacefully. We’d likely have more food, electricity, warmer showers… medicine, security, and who knows what else…”
“Think about it Geoff, we had all of that, and they took it with that lie. Who knows if they are even doing that well. That’s the image they portray, but maybe they could be worse off than we are and scouting for resources. Because of what happened, there can be no forgiveness of them or their culture.”
“Hey, hey, take it easy.” Replied Geoff, “I’m just trying to play the devil’s advocate here, provide a reasonable counter argument. I know it’s coming too, but I have no idea what we could do. If you include the perimeter buildings, we have probably a couple thousand people, right?”
“You know, I’m not sure. I haven’t thought about doing a census, but we really don’t know how many people live in the tower and the supporting buildings and the periphery. I guess I’ll do that, and do a survey on the perimeter and how defensible it is. How long do you think it will be until they pick up the spy? I still think we should have executed her, if not for espionage then murder.”
“Well, this might cause them to rush into a mistake, plus it’s easy to martyr religious people… you call the Rebirth a lie, did you always know that?”
Yoseph paused thoughtfully and answered, “Probably. I kept to the minute news until the telecommunication break down I was very cautious to believe that the end really was near. I had read somewhere that one of the federal senators that was part of the Council paid for the biometric identification system with his own person money. Overnight, these hand-placed people began to fulfill a variety of religions’ ‘End of Days’ scenarios. I just couldn’t buy into the “Marked” business, but I don’t see how they keep up the appearance even inside their domain.”
Geoff bobbed his head in agreement, “It’s a little sickening to think about it, turning fear into not only a control, but into something that would tear apart the world. But, I guess the census is a good start. I think that people will need some encouragement to prepare for the tough times ahead.”
Yoseph jotted down some orders on a slip of paper and called out for his assistant. A young woman came in from the hallway and took the paper and headed to the council for approval. He turned back to his guest, who was standing, readying to leave, and said, “I’ll speak to people later, might as well look important somehow.”
Geoff nodded and left the small office. Yoseph slipped out a rough map of the region, with the cities domain lined off in permanent marker. After studying intensely for a few more minutes, he whispered to himself, “Hey, that might actually work…”
Yoseph was used to giving a multitude of repeated speeches. Starting after the second siren, he started on the seventeenth floor and worker his way down by answering questions and giving the same speech, “Citizens! Last week you voted me into this office, whether it was for my policies, or that you recognized me, or whatever your reasons. But now here I am and the threat I mentioned is very real. This Council of the Godly look to expand their massive territory over our beloved city. But with this uptake, and whatever good that may be derived from it, comes with a cost from each and every person. Not only will they likely kill some us to instill fear and respect and piety, but they’ll strip everyone’s right to choose. To choose when to pray, if at all. To choose what you will do with your day, with your life. I know our community asks a lot from its members, but we do this to build a better future for us and our children. People trapped in the Realm have no choice on how there future will be, on what their children will learn and do with their entire lives.
“Now, I don’t suggest attacking this monster. It is incredibly well supplied with hordes of devout converts to batter us into submission. We CANNOT all our homes and futures to collapse without a fight. We will not let them simply walk in here like they did nearly three weeks ago. Three weeks ago they came and took our mayor and senior council members, who had been disillusioned with the difficult life, out here in the Wilderness. Well, we are not wild men and women. We can and will come up with means to defend our home from whatever they throw at us.
“Some wild imaginations could fear the heavy equipment controlled by the holymen, but I sincerely doubt that they can make large quantities of fuel and ammunition to mount anything sort of full assault. The Godly will crash upon our city, sooner rather than later, and we must be ready. Together, we will prevail.”
Yoseph smiled at the small crowd that had collected around him. He nodded in self-assurance and then moved down to the lower floor and repeated his message. Eventually he reached his the ground floor and returned to his office. While the mayor did have more space to live in than everyone else, he slept in his office, in the corner most opposite of the door.
No comments:
Post a Comment