Question: What should be preserved at any cost?
Time Remaining: 60:00
The Host’s soothing, calm voice filtered down from the hidden speakers within the ceiling. “Today you must decide what single thing society must protect even as all else falls apart. What should be preserved at any cost? You have sixty minutes. Begin.”
Ember was the first to speak. “Hope,” she said instantly, leaning forward like she’d been waiting to say it first. “Hope is what keeps us trying to improve and be better. Hope must always endure—especially during a collapse.”
Fulcrum looked over at her as if evaluating her worth. “Survival,” she corrected. “You can rebuild values. You can’t rebuild the dead.”
“I think you’re both right,” Solace said thoughtfully, studying the table instead of them. “But I think what we really need to protect is compassion. If we stop caring for each other, surviving doesn’t mean anything.”
“Truth,” Vector said, calm and measured. “Even painful truth. Especially painful truth. We need to be able to analyze what went wrong so we don’t repeat the same mistakes.”
Specter snorted and rolled her eyes. “Didn’t we already do that one?” she asked. “What you need to protect is your ability to laugh at whatever happens. Or freedom of speech so you can tell people just how dumb they are. Either one. If you can’t mock the end of the world, you’re just wallowing in it.”
Amongst the frowns of disapproval shot Specter’s way, Strategos spoke, his voice precise. “Order,” he said, looking at each person in turn with his dark eyes. He started with Ember. “Hope burns down cities,” he said. “It repeats throughout history again and again.” He looked at Solace next. “Regions collapse under idealist virtue. They bend to the people and forget how ruthless people really are.” Next, he addressed Vector. “The truth creates panic and fear. If you can’t feed your children through the week, you do not act rationally. You act desperately. You riot.” His eyes swept the table. “Order survives chaos. It keeps systems functioning. It keeps people alive.” He looked at Fulcrum, then finally let his gaze settle on Specter. “Stand against order, and you die. No one laughs during a collapse.”
Specter arched an eyebrow at him. “I don’t know about that. When they made school optional, I laughed until I cried.”
Fulcrum’s voice cut cleanly through the tension. “A collapse falls under disaster protocols. After a disaster, all that matters is who is still standing and how to survive. Order is a piece of survival, but you won’t need it unless you’re alive.”
“But you need hope to keep moving forward,” Ember objected. “To believe it can get better. Otherwise you’ll just give up.”
“You need truth,” Vector countered. “If you don’t remember touching a hot stove will burn your hand, you’ll keep burning it down to the bone.”
Specter scoffed. “No one wants the truth,” she told him. “I read the new children’s history book the other day about The Great Dissent. Education Steering Committee approved.” Her lip curled in pointed disgust. “It said The Great Dissent was resolved through ‘open dialogue and mutual understanding.’ That the violence had been ‘exaggerated.’ That the burned cities were regrettable, but symbolic.” There was a pause around the room as they all took in this new information. “And the best part? They said no one had wanted to harm anyone else. They just ‘lacked proper communication skills.’”
Her expression went cold with fury. “The only thing that book preserved was delusion.”
Ember flinched. “But you said it’s for kids,” she pointed out. “Kids aren’t emotionally equipped to understand everything that happened. They’d have questions and wouldn’t understand the answers. We don’t have to—”
“Tell that to someone who lived it,” Specter shot back, straightening in her chair. “Tell that to the kid who watched his baby sister get ripped from his mother’s arms and tossed—screaming—into a bonfire. Tell that kid he doesn’t understand what those horrific screams of anguish were about. Tell him those charred, flailing limbs and the stench of burning flesh weren’t real. Tell him no one truly wanted to harm anyone else and if they’d just had ‘better communication training’ his baby sister would still be alive.”
No one moved. No one even seemed to breathe. Specter fell back against her chair, her eyes on the table as if she were thinking about destroying it.
Then, slowly, Solace spoke, his voice filled with heavy compassion. “That kid will probably carry that torment forever,” he said softly. “But why should we put that burden on another innocent child?”
Vector shook his head. “Because in a few years,” he started quietly, “the history books will say no one died. A few years after that, they’ll say there was no war. Eventually, they’ll say the people chose to burn it all down to give the land back to the earth. That it was noble.” He looked up at the others. “Rewriting history dishonors everyone who lived through it. Good or bad.”
Ember hesitated. “But stories evolve. Even truths evolve. If we soften them so they don’t hurt anyone else, we’re mitigating further damage.”
Vector went stiff.
“The truth does not evolve,” he corrected quietly, his voice clipped. All eyes turned to him. “How we interpret and communicate that truth is what changes. The facts do not.”
More silence settled heavily around the room.
“We’re off-topic,” Fulcrum pointed out. “What should be preserved is survival. If you don’t make it out, none of this matters.”
“We have to preserve hope,” Ember insisted. “Otherwise no one will bother trying.”
Strategos looked at her, then around the table. “When disaster strikes, survivors do not demand the truth,” he said. “They do not beg for hope. They do not give away their only cup of water. They ask, ‘What now?’ ‘What do I do?’ ‘Who’s in charge?’”
His eyes hardened. “Truth, hope, and compassion are luxuries those in danger cannot afford. Order is a necessity to move forward from collapse.”
The Host’s voice filled the silence. “Session two is now complete. Thank you for your participation in the Civic Policy Committee.”
Previous: Chapter Three – Caleb
Next: News Interstitial | New Eden
The Archivist's Ledger 
Leave a comment