“Citizens of Seeville. I am Lord Madison Banks. I agree with Lords Bartz and Meeker on the Essentialist threat. It’s real, and we must prepare for it. We must protect ourselves. We must protect our ideals—progressiveness, balance, humility, prudence, moderation, and cooperation. We must protect our liberty as Spoke people, first and foremost.
“So let’s talk about liberty. You’ve heard much about liberty recently. Bartz mentions it often. The Lamps of Liberty are supposed to be symbolic of this important ideal. But let me ask you all, what is liberty?
“The founding fathers knew what liberty was, as did Lechky, Kelemen and Okafor. It was something they fought tooth and nail for, that they were willing to sacrifice everything for. Liberty is freedom of thought; it’s freedom of expression. It’s a willingness to openly debate important matters so citizens can make thoughtful choices, despite the fact we may not agree.”
She hobbled to another side of the stage, getting some distance from Bartz and the enforcers.
“And so it’s in the spirit of liberty, in freedom of expression, that I strongly disagree with Lords Bartz and Meeker on how we are combatting this threat.”
There were some murmurings in the crowd. The enforcers looked to Bartz, expecting him to ask for the horn to be taken away, but he shook his head and gritted his teeth.
Madison continued, knowing her time was limited. “I would like to share some words of one of the founding fathers—one who fought earnestly for liberty, before the Old World forgot their ideals and sowed the seeds of the Detonation. He said those who would give up essential liberty, to purchase a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety.
“Many of you may not understand what is in this craft floating above our heads. Some of you may not know its true power. In fact, I don’t think any of us really do, including Lord Bartz and Lord Meeker.”
She gestured toward Bartz. “And yet we are inviting this unknown animal into our home. Will it be an obedient dog that does our bidding? Will it be a house cat that goes off on its own? Or will it be a hungry lion that will rip us limb from limb. We… don’t… know.”
Many people in the crowd were confused, or frowning, but she was getting through to some of them. Some were nodding their heads.
“Don’t get me wrong. I believe this craft will serve us, for a time. But then we will come to depend on it. Then we will be in thrall to it. It will provide us safety and then take our liberty. This is what happened before the Detonation, and this is what will happen to us if we do as Bartz and Meeker suggest.”
Pockets of the crowd were beginning to murmur and yell. A man spoke up. “She’s right. Why do we need the help of this craft? We’re Spokes, we can do this ourselves!”
Another woman yelled back. “Oh shut up. This is nonsense! It has already helped us with the retchers.”
“Enough!” Bartz yelled into his own bullhorn. “Banks is entitled to her opinion. But ask yourself, who has delivered on his promises? Who has helped Seeville become a better place? Lord Banks has been gone for nearly thirty years, consorting with bandits, of all people. All the while we have been building the best city on the continent; we have been solving problems our way, the Spoke way.”
“Yeah, Bartz knows what’s best!” another chimed in. Much of the crowd murmured in agreement.
She was about to retort but Bartz spoke over her. “No, Lord Banks, you’ve had your say. Now it’s time for the other lords to speak.” And he gestured to Prakash and Kline. The two lords looked at each other, clearly not expecting to be called forward. Meanwhile Meeker’s enforcers were coming to take Madison’s bullhorn away.
Madison spoke one more time into the bullhorn as Thorpe made his way to her. “We need to prepare to fight the Essentialists—the threat is real—but enlisting the help of Old World tech is not the solution!”
She could see a few of the Adherents pumping their fists in solidarity with her remark. Near the front others were booing. She may have opened some minds to another perspective, but Bartz painting her as an outsider was deftly played. She’d been marginalized, and she failed to think of a good rejoinder in the few seconds of airtime she had left.
Thorpe stood in front of her, his hand out expectantly. She had been given her turn to speak. She would only look desperate or crazy if she tried to hold onto the bullhorn any longer.
She was about to pass the bullhorn to Thorpe when it was snatched from her hand. Duncan had come from behind her to grab it. He pranced down the stage away from Thorpe. “People of Seeville, I’m Duncan Jones, Lord Duncan Jones. I’ve been wanting to speak to you for a long, long time.” He held the bullhorn over his head as if in some kind of victory lap.
Thorpe was about to chase after Duncan but Bartz shook his head and flicked his hand. They had to let him speak, just as they had let Madison speak, just as they had wanted to give the other lords a chance to speak. Thorpe reluctantly retreated to the back of the stage.
Duncan had a deep, strident voice, and he knew how to work the crowd. It helped him when he was first elected. Here he was, pulling out his old tricks. He smiled and did another lap of the stage, the bullhorn over his head, as if he was a conquering hero coming home.
The rational audience members might chafe at the confidence of this unknown quantity, but most were enchanted by the audacious display. Duncan was new to most people, an enigmatic lord that had been away in the far north.
Duncan passed by Madison and whispered in her ear. “We’re not going to turn this ship around. We have to sink it.”
It was a vague statement. Duncan was always more provocative, but this was something else. She suspected things were about to get even more unruly.
“People of Seeville,” Duncan said, finally stopping his victory lap, “like Lord Banks, I’ve been gone for a long time. There’s no question, I regret being gone that long, being away from the city I love dearly.
“When you’re gone that long, you gain some perspective, you realize what’s important, you see things more clearly. When I left I was concerned things were heading in the wrong direction, that we weren’t heeding the words of our ancestors.”
He stopped pacing, looked directly to the crowd, and delivered his next words with his great emphasis. “People of Seeville. The emissary that Bartz speaks of, this emissary from this spacecraft, is an Old World smartphone.”
There were some shocked gasps in the crowd but mostly confusion.
“I suspect there are numerous droids and robots currently in operation inside the Barnyard bunkers. People of Seeville, there’s no more denying it. It’s clear. This is novation. Novation, as you know… leads to damnation. Novation is what caused the Detonation.”
The crowd was silent. No one had spoken so bluntly about novation, and no one had mentioned smartphones and robots. Here Duncan had mentioned all three. Even Bartz wasn’t sure what to say.
“Those many years ago, I was right to be concerned, because we’ve lost our way.” Duncan continued, nodding his head.
The crowd began to murmur again. “A smartphone? Is this true?”
An older woman said. “Why weren’t we told about this?”
Thorpe looked back to Bartz nervously. Bartz only squinted.
“Whether you are an Adherent or not,” Duncan continued, “these were the warnings of our ancestors. Yet here we are doing everything we were told not to do. Obsession, reckless risks—I can see it in your eyes. And rather than cooperate with the Essentialists, we have chosen to compete with them. Look at where that has gotten us.”