With the five minutes almost elapsed, one element of the plan did catch her attention. It appeared the observatory was to be refurbished as a lookout and radio tower. There was no mention of rebuilding the fractured dish.
“Excuse me,” Madison said. “It says here the observatory site will be used as a lookout tower. Are you not rebuilding the dish? I think maybe it would be useful for us to all understand why the dish was there in the first place. While I don’t condone Lord Henneson’s actions, he was obviously concerned about it. Many of our citizens have expressed concern as well. A little more transparency would go a long way, and might even prevent conflict.”
She knew they could just ignore her plea, but there was an outside chance she could get some support from Prakash or Kline. They had to have some sort of breaking point if they felt they weren’t being treated with respect.
Meeker’s face became flushed. He said, “Those are railroad lands, and the railroad can do what they want with them. It’s within their rights to keep that private.”
“Yet you have an agreement to work with the railroad,” Madison countered. “So you know what the plans are, don’t you, honorable Lord Meeker? While the rest of us are left in the dark. Lord Henneson is in prison, and we have no idea why he was concerned.”
Bartz sat aloof in his chair, watching the faces of the other council members. Meeker was about to retort, but Bartz held up his finger. Meeker’s tongue arrested in midmotion, as if Bartz’s finger was tied to it with an invisible tether.
Bartz then leaned forward and nested his hands on the table. “We have had to keep certain projects secret, and apparently for good reason.” He nodded in reference to the laptop computer sitting in front of them, still showing Alastair’s granulated profile. “Now, though, I see no reason to keep this specific secret classified. In fact, I think honorable Lord Banks is right on this point. The rest of the council should be aware of what is to come, so as to not be caught flat-footed when questions arise. As lords, we will also need to talk about how we communicate our prudent progress to the people.”
Prakash and Kline looked as confused as she was. They waited patiently, as she did, for Bartz to explain.
Bartz stood up, wringing his hands together. A welcome wave of air from the fan finally hit Madison, nearly pushing off one of the proposal papers before she caught it.
“You see,” Bartz continued, “we know there is a great ship that has been up in space, on the dark side of the moon. It wanted nothing to do with all the violent disputes of the Old World, and so it went into hiding. It’s called Friendship One, and it has been waiting until the right people came out of the ashes of the Detonation to call it back home. It was waiting so it could help usher in a new era of prosperity. It has on board machines that will improve our lives—that will help us rebuild our infrastructure.
“The radio-telescope we were building at the observatory was designed to call it home, it was designed to show Friendship One that we are the people it has been waiting for. Unfortunately, now Lord Henneson and his religious zealots have brazenly destroyed this dish, killing seventeen innocent people in the process. I don’t know what Lord Henneson’s motivation was, but we all know he had an almost cult-like dedication to the Credo. I’m sure he thought the dish was some form of sacrilege, but we all know this assertion is ridiculous.”
Bartz had been making his way around the room. He arrived back where he began, blocking the fan again.
He put his hands on the back of his chair and leaned into the table, smiling. “We take progress seriously at the railroad. We have connected the Spoke peoples through our growing railroad network, and now, as you’ve seen by the cube in the stadium, as you have seen with the Lamps of Liberty, we care very much about the safety of the citizens of Seeville. We know this great ship can give us even more protection, even more security. So we went about the construction of this dish with great care. In doing so, we asked our engineers, how can we ensure success?”
He went on the laptop and played with the mouse, trying to pull something up on the screen. “And you know what they told us? They said, for something so important, why build one of something that might not work, one of something that might be destroyed by a silly retcher accident, when you can build two of them?”
He turned the computer screen to face them. On it was a large dish, looking to be near completion. Tiny, spiderlike machines could be seen toiling on the surface. “Lords, please behold the Fan Mountain Radio Telescope, which we finished in half the time we estimated, and put into operation two days ago. It is located about thirty miles to the south of us, on the way to Lynchburg. We have communicated with Friendship One already, and it gives me great joy to tell you that it is preparing to make its way to earth orbit.”
Madison’s heart fell through her chest. The observatory was the one real victory they had—a chance to turn the tide, or at least delay the relentless pace leading them all to catastrophe. But now it seemed it was all for not. The railroad—or more likely Gail—was too cunning, and too well resourced. Alastair was imprisoned, and all those people died, for nothing. Gail’s strength would grow by leaps and bounds when this craft arrived. Soon she would be unstoppable.
Bartz said, “We anticipate it will arrive in earth’s orbit in several weeks. Then it will send down a number of machines to help us with our tasks, to help us defend against the Essentialists, and to further spread the Lamp of Liberty through Spoke lands and beyond.”
Prakash and Kline were nodding with furrowed brows. Perhaps they agreed with Bartz’s idolatry, and perhaps they reasoned more machines could only provide more benefit. More likely they were completely overwhelmed by the new development and ignorant of its true implications.
“It’s important we send the right messages to the people when the ship arrives,” Bartz lectured. “It’s an immense craft, and it will be visible from the ground. If people aren’t warned in advance, they may be confused, even fearful, not knowing its intentions, suspecting it to be some relic of the Detonation. But if we communicate this correctly—if they know this ship is under our control, that we have brought it here—it will be empowering, and it will help bring even further confidence to the people.”
Prakash, Kline, and Meeker all nodded in agreement. Madison was in a daze, unable to enact any sort of response, still digesting the massive setback.
“Shall we go to vote on the revised defense plan?” Bartz asked, capitalizing on the moment.
The vote went through easily, with Madison being the lone dissenter. After several other more menial administrative topics, the meeting ended. Madison left in haste, not bidding good-bye to anyone, and not allowing Benjamin to take her arm on the way out.
Once outside, she didn’t stop by the Meriwether Lewis statue for reflection, as she had planned. She couldn’t see how it would offer her any strength. Her heart was wrung with discontent, her mind shocked by the litany of blows she had absorbed, and her conscience racked with concern for the many lives that were about to be put in harm’s way. Gail’s machinations were accelerating, and the tidal wave of consequences would hit them soon.
Thirty years ago there was a feeling that invaded her—a feeling she couldn’t shake. It was that feeling that prompted her to leave Seeville, to flee to some greener pasture. For the first time since she had returned to Seeville she had that feeling again. She felt like a rat in someone else’s maze—a maze with no exits. For the first time in thirty years, she felt her well of hope had run dry.