Pearseus: Schism

Croix

Croix stepped in front of the podium. He pressed his lips together to grin at the crowd. His head hurt again, but he had spent many hours discussing the matter with his advisor and knew what needed to be done. He had grown to love public speeches, and by now considered himself pretty good at them. He drank with eagerness the cool, fresh air blowing from the mountains, hoping it would clear his head, and waved his hands upwards, waiting for the crowd to stop its excited murmur.

“My friends,” he started, “we ended up in this harsh world under the most terrible of circumstances. The accident that led us here, though, proved to be the beginning of something great: the first human colony.”

Jubilant shouts were heard from the crowd, along with some whistles. He waited for them to die out.

“Our brave Captain Kibwe – rest his soul – did everything in his power to keep us safe and sound. He was so successful that our small group is getting stronger every day!”

More applause. How I love their applause!

“In this, he was not alone. We were all there for each other, helped each other out, saved each other’s lives more than once. And much as I would’ve liked to build a statue to each and every one of you…” – he waited for the laughter to subside – “…we’ve come here today to honour the work of one man. My good buddy Lucas. Thank you, my friend.”

An involuntary twitch cracked the edges of his mouth as the crowd cheered much louder for Lucas than they had for him. I have gone too far to share power with a nerdy engineer. He beamed his wide smile.

“Concluding our little ceremony, I want to take the opportunity to announce a few small changes to the way we run things…”

From the corner of his eye he noticed with amusement Richard and Barrett raise their heads as if stung. He made a discreet signal with his hand and his Armbands took their places around the plaza, unnoticed by the crowd. An expectant hush fell.

He steepled his hands and leaned forward, placing his head on his fingers. “The first item in the agenda concerns our e-libs.” He thought it strange that his advisor had insisted so much on this. He seemed to hate those things with a passion that surprised Croix.

“We had a precious few when we arrived, and we need every last one of them. I know they’re almost indestructible, but Mr. Stinson's grandson managed last week to break one.” At the mention of his name, an old man in the crowd lowered his eyes to the ground and shifted his weight uncomfortably. His two-year-old grandson had pounded mercilessly on the glass with a rock until it had shattered into countless sparkling fragments. In a small community like theirs, it had not taken long for the news to reach everyone.

“Therefore, all of you will need to give us your e-libs for safe keeping.”

A murmur of disapproval met his words, as he had expected. He made a reassuring motion with his hand.

“We’ll set up a public library so that everyone can read all they want. Don’t worry, they’ll be in safe hands. Using the new presses we’re building, we’ll publish their contents so that everyone has safe access to our heritage.” He was lying, of course – his advisor had been adamant that no-one should have access to knowledge – but he could see no reason for them to know that.

“Also, everyone can see that the citizens’ council has proven a poor way of dealing with everyday affairs. People need to be in their fields working and in the forests hunting, not in the city hall squabbling. It was one thing when there were just a few of us, but each year it becomes harder to pass laws. How many of you have complained about having to vote for every small ordinance?” He looked at them; some nodded in agreement. He cleared his throat, tapping his fingers on his e-lib.