The Wasteland Soldier, Book 1, A Fractured World

Seven

Chancellor Jorann leaned towards his microphone.

"We have beaten hunger," he said. "No one in our city goes without."

He paused for a moment before continuing. It was a bright morning with only a gentle breeze and his voice carried easily.

"We have heard the stories of livestock and fertile lands but they are not here, not here in this corner of Gallen, and not here in our city. For hundreds of years our processing plants and our men of intelligence have made sure that no one feels the pangs of hunger."

Jorann placed his words carefully. He was an experienced public speaker, knowing exactly when and what emotion to induce from his people. He knew how to control them, turn them frenzied or rein them slowly in. He had learned much from his father on making speeches and had honed his skill through years of office and rule. He addressed them from a raised platform in Progress Square, a broad paved area with dirt roads leading in from all directions and apartments buildings all around. Hundreds of faces lined the windows and thousands more gathered before him. A physical barrier of Red Guard soldiers stood between him and his citizens. His men wore full body armour and carried shields and batons. They would not be needed today; the crowd were compliant and responded with nods and low murmurs of approval.

"We have homes," he said, lifting his eyes from his speech cards. "All of us have a bed that is our own. Some of you are fortunate to have a life partner. Some of you are unfortunate enough to have children."

Laughter rippled through pockets of the crowd and he smiled warmly at them. Shoulder to shoulder, they obediently waited.

"No one is left behind. No one is useless," said Jorann, beginning to wag his finger from time to time. "You all have a part to play. You are all a vital ingredient in what makes our ordered society work." He nodded firmly. "Our workers, our merchants. Our stewards, our managers. Our ministers, our military. You all make our city a place of peace, a place of calm, and a place of safety." He discarded his speech cards, a rehearsed and dramatic gesture. "And you are safe. Every single one of you. Let me assure you. You are safe. You are safe on the streets and you are safe in your homes. We have made Chett a safe place for you to live." Cries of approval grew louder. "You are safe from the scum beyond our walls. The scavengers, the bandits." Citizens punched the air in agreement. "Safe from the drifters, the savages." He had stirred them effortlessly. "Safe from the deformed, the disfigured. Safe from those who would take what you have, what you have worked for and would kill you for it without a care or thought." Beads of sweat popped onto Jorann's brow. "We have kept you safe."

And with that, the crowd roared, a sea of smiling, joyful, relieved faces. A few SOT sympathisers began to heckle but a knot of soldiers moved in, rapidly, and scooped them up, with the crowd hardly aware. It had been three weeks since the last assembly, a dour meeting of information only where the Citizen Parcel had been increased by one eighth instead of one sixth, due to a lack of raw materials from recent Supply Expeditions, and others matters concerning recycled water. Yet, when the bells rang out this morning, formally announcing today's assembly, it had been a sweet sound for the citizens; rousing words and an unexpected break from the routine of work. In the plants and factories the machinery was still and even the floor stewards were here, absorbing every word. The dirt roads leading into Progress Square were thronged with hundreds more men, women and children, eager to get closer.

"Your fathers kept this city safe. Their fathers kept this city safe. And we will continue to keep this city safe."

The crowd roared again, but Jorann took off his eye glasses and motioned with his hands for calm and silence.

"However, a bad seed continues to grow. A bad seed that needs to be eliminated once and for all. That needs to be trodden into the dirt and ground into dust. The SOT. Yes, the Seekers of truth. What truth? We offer everyone the truth. There are no lies here. Chett was built on truth! Built on hard work! Built on keeping all of you safe!"