The Revolution

Chapter 2

Note: Grammar updated 071424

The Pangea General Assembly compound was originally designed to "serve as a shining beacon of hope across a war stretched land," and for a scant few years after its inception, it was. The Second Flux War had drained the land of its young men, its culture, and even its spirit. In more recent times, it stood as an example of the deepening division, and the fragile peace between 7 disparate governments.
The idea that the Founders had thrown off the yoke of technological oppression in the pursuit of a better collective of humanity had somehow been warped into a system of human capital designed to place an abundance of wealth in a few accounts, the owners of which would rather see their available balance increase despite what the overworked men and women further down the hierarchy would be able to stomach without a toll being taken mentally and physically.
The higher up the social hierarchy a person rose, the more luxurious life became. While many in the public worried where the next meal might come, the owners had little such worries, and a market arose around wealthy people telling the less advantaged outrageous "secrets" to become wealthy.
The typical voting consisted of three ayes and three nays with a seventh vote usually going either way. The northern states (to be named eventually), having a strong tradition of rights for the workers in the notoriously hostile Flux mines, often brought about legislation which would increase the stability of the common person, usually paid for from corporate taxes. The Southern States (Grandville, Mount Vesio and Shapsville), the more corporation focused (often under the guise of "being concerned about Government 'overreach' between the lawful operations of the States") often vehemently opposed any legislation which would harm profits in anyway for the energy companies, the largest of which, DSI (nobody really knew what the initials stood for) was the state government for Shapsville The representative for the state of Scarsmon, the state which actually housed the General Assembly had historically been seen as a "neutral vote" in the Assembly, although more recently it seemed that John Romb had been courting the ear of the energy lobby, notably DSI public affairs chairperson, Thea Randolph.
Four of the representatives were publicly elected, although the DSI representative was elected via shareholder vote and also was subject to recall at any time. The others were appointed manly by the Executive Officer of the state, of these three Governors, none of which were subject to electoral challenges.
While votes were undertaken by all 7, a Grand Moderator officially tallied the votes and created order among the representatives. The Grand Moderator made rulings based on a very structured and well legislated series of rules governing decorum and time limits for debate and such to create "as fair of a legislative process as possible."
The current battle ground was the Workers Freedom Act, a bill designed to raise the wage of workers in designated "dangerous jobs," the cited example of which being "miners, transporters, and sellers of flux." At one time it had been a bill that would have lifted a sizable chunk of the population out of poverty. Through a months long series of debates and compromises, the bill was now a shell of its former self. Fewer people would see far less benefits. The original author of the bill, Robert Rangler, had to cash in every political favor he had left to finally force a final debate and vote on the bill. The vote looked once again to fall to Romb who had been a major driving force in the slashes made to the bill all in an effort to "make it more palatable to the voters."

"Yes, Governor, I am intimately aware of what this vote means for my career," Councilman Robert Rangler said quietly into the phone. Somehow the wood paneled walls still echoed his words back at him in a semi-accusatory tone.
"I'm just saying, Robert, polls are showing that if we can't get this done, it's not just your head they'll want. Metaphorically, of course." The governor chuckled from the other side of the continent.
Rangler swallowed the words he wanted to say back, and instead croaked out, "thank you, sir for your reminder. I will endeavor to do my best, but I'm headed into session right now," and ended the call.
He inhaled quickly to center himself in the empty corridor. He reached for the door handle and turned.
For all the public bluster about this bill, there was surprisingly little in the way of public attendance. There were a few reporters and camera crews around, but nowhere near the circus that Rangler expected. He couldn't really blame the apathetic response. He strode across the public seating area to the Governance Area, a pompous name, Rangler had always thought.
They were still waiting for the Grandville representative, a boorish man who was seemingly always late to official votes. The official start time was elapsed by five minutes when the man finally made his presence known through his trademark prayer, "Gaia is my friend and I am hers." Rangler rolled his eyes.
"Sit down, Mister Andrews, none of us have time for your bluster today," the Grand Moderator at the front said. The man hurried to his seat."
The Grand Moderator shuffled his robe a bit to settle the fabric and then turned to the assembled representatives, "this session of the Pangea General Assembly is now in order. Today we are entering into final debate for GA1386.3, The Workers Freedom Act. There will be ten minutes for each representative to make their final cases, before we take a final vote on its passage. Is this agreed?"
All seven agreed.
"Fantastic. Now the author of the bill has requested to say a few words before we begin. Mr. Rangler, the floor is yours."
Rangler rose to his feet and looked down at the stack of drab statistics and anecdotes that he hoped would sway one vote. He took a deep breath and began.
"Th--" was all he could get out before the explosive device hidden in his desk detonated. He didn't even feel the increase in temperature.