Philosophia: The Nine Worlds and the Great Mechanical Tree

Chapter Three

3

            The meeting started ten minutes late. Garth sat quietly at the back of the room, observing the tense glares that were thrown across the expansive conference room table. Twelve men sat in the room, excluding Garth, waiting for the thirteenth man to arrive. These thirteen men composed the advisory board and they were the richest and most decisive men in the known world. In public, there were two political parties: the party for expansion and domination and the party for sustainable enslavement, or otherwise known as the PED and the PSE. The two parties gave a good show for the citizens, but in this room they were the advisory board, and they worked together to further their might and control over their own people.

            The man that kept them waiting was Stenin Fornis. The Fornis family had been at the head of the advisory board for longer than anyone cared to remember; it had always been that way and no one had ever challenged their authority. A knock on the door signaled the arrival of Stenin Fornis and everyone rose as he entered. They gave the traditional greeting of pounding the right fist into the left palm to symbolize the crushing power of will and determination.

            Stenin Fornis imposed himself on others, not from his stature, but from the cruelness that exuded from his pores. His eyes were small and black, like polished obsidian, his mouth a straight line that showed no emotion. He had no hair because his hair couldn’t stand the toxicity running through his veins. Out of all the other advisors, Stenin Fornis was the only one who did not consider him to be a great help to their cause. Garth wasn’t born into their ranks and nothing he would forever be an outsider in Stenin Fornis’ opinion. He hoped that his successful inquiry and astounding discovery would sway Fornis’ opinion.

He gave a grand gesture for everyone to be seated. 

            “Thank you all for coming on short notice. There is much to discuss and very little time. I would first like to ask if anyone has any information on the numpty that died last night?” No one spoke, including Garth. “No one? What about you Garth, he was your numpty after all?”

            “No, Mr. Fornis, it’s a shame I’ll have to get another one.” It was a decision he made in less than a second, but he was committed to the answer now no matter what the consequence.

            “It is indeed,” the man said, seemingly unpleased with the answer. “The first order of business: what is going on with the rising food prices people? Emyl, you work closely with the Food Requisition Agency, do you not?”

            “Yes I do, and there is nothing to be done about it. The crops outside Hemra and Grein failed because of the drought. The people living in those areas are starving,” Emyl Watson replied promptly as if he had practiced that response a dozen times. Emyl was one of Garth’s closest companions and was the one who gave him Dr. Dragur’s card.

            “Well, the people in Muspel aren’t going to stand for these rising prices much longer. We do not want to have food riots, gentlemen, so come up with a plan and get back to me. Next item up for discussion: whether we like it or not, election time is here. Who are your nominees?”

            “Our nominees are Leif Kneight and Jason Sowl,” a man from the PED replied.

            “And who will win?”

            “Jason Sowl. We feel that he isn’t the best choice, but the people seem to like him better.”

            “Okay, and who are your nominees?” Fornis said to the PES.

            “Brok Hunt and Lars Shule. Brok Hunt will win, of course.”

            “Fine; they’re from respectable families and they respect rules and authority. That is the most important thing.”