I straighten my wrinkled church-robes in the hallway. Licking my dry lips and scratching away the gunk, I turn and face the ensemble.
"Is this everyone Jiord?"
"That is right, we have all gathered for you." He responds.
The rest nod along in agreement.
"Good"
There are Six council members governing this camp through the Office of Good Order.
Farming - Zerbus Quake
Salt mining - Giana Heart-Rhine
Administration - Nelson Mcoy
Logistics - Naomi Kessle
Security - Maverous Nerve
Religion/Compliance - Jiord Jones
However what I want to take advantage of is the 'Settler's' Clause. To prevent voting ties, council-members are granted and additional vote on issues regarding their own domain.
Supposedly this was the first residents solution to breaking ties. Whatever the reason, with two members already here our voting power is quite substantial.
Four votes convince or circumvent. From this, I can exploit how almost everything can be considered an administration related matter when it comes to changing the town's rules.
I size up everyone's reactions in the hallway, before addressing them.
"Currently, as it stands, only the people within this very hallway can be trusted with what I'm about to say: Jiord, Sevistein, Nelson, Ileane, Reece, and of course, my Tim, but he's currently busy at school.
I will only explain to each of you the parts which you need to know—nothing more. Secrecy and compartmentalization are of the highest priorities.
We all know who the enemy is, and this will be how we fight.
I have spent the last couple of hours researching, organising and planning what should be our next steps.
You may not trust me yet, but at least read my proposal. I am open to feedback and willing to listen to your worries, concerns and talk about it with you.
However before I start I must say apologies to Nelson for using my work-hours for this, I will make it up to you by staying here late to finish filing job. Now let us begin."
I open the door and gesture inside.
"Nelson, I will speak to you now."
I guide him into my office.
We enter.
He sits down across from my desk and I slide over the report.
"Just so you know I'm not entirely convinced of your abilities, however both Jiord and Jimson put their faith in you, so I will be fair. However I will always be critical when I deem it appropriate to be. Is this acceptable?"
"Of course I would have it no other way, now please, read"
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[Highest Priority]
Fractional Reserve Banking: Theory and Implementation to increase budgetary funding.
He slowly picks the paper up and reads the written words.
His body starts shaking.
He softly places it back down.
He looks me in the eyes for the first time I've known him.
"Even I will admit this is crazy. Revolutionary. This will.." he pauses his fingers intertwining inside each other rapidly.
"The economic implications alone would change how the world works.This is not 'merely crazy.' It's systematically disruptive. Revolution suggests emotional judgment but this is structural reformation at its core…"
"What are you? Where did you learn this forbidden knowledge? This kind of thinking is not rational, it's radical. This doesn't make any logical sense, you don't make any sense to me. Just who are you?"
"I am the man who will be leading you, that's all you need to know. Now, does this suggestion obtain your confidence in me?" I interject.
"I can only say yes here. However, there are some complications I think are worth considering. What will we use as the currency? How do we ensure the substitute doesn't get counterfeits?"
"I have thought of this too, and I came to only one conclusion. We can only use something of greater value than the original singular primstone standard—to make it economically unfeasible to make counterfeits, where demand from others is high but for us is readily obtainable."
I pause
"My idea is... Beast cores."
"What! That doesn't make any logical sense. That is burning the economic foundation of this entire settlement, and god knows how the sky palace will react."
"Even the Heavenly Sky Palace desperately searches for them. This is the only thing that makes sense. Shatter some of the cores, use the fragments in the coins, and their properties of absorbing mana can be checked as a guarantee for the security of the exchange.
Vary the absorption rates for the different denominations and this can be the basis calculating currency. With this base metric we can ensure the people's trust in their valuation."
I pick up the glass paperweight and place it directly infront of him atop the wooden desktop.
"I believe it is foolish to think the sky-palace will just let things happen, the more we hide the more obvious it will seem so instead we will tell them what we must.
Hide how we obtain financing, delay their investigations. These are the things we can't let them know of yet. We will do all this, yes, but when they inevitably grow suspicious, and they will, we must ensure they discover only one thing about us: that we have a real chance of succeeding.
We want them to see potential profit in our actions, and not a threat."
"It must be in their best interest to let us develop—to see us as a future beast core sourcing opportunity. By the time they move to harvest us and our method, we shall take our progress and strike first."
"This is beyond risk-taking."
"I know. That is what will make us unpredictable. A person willing to take risks no other person is willing to do subvert expectations and is harder to prepare for. We will monitor the inflows and outflows of the currency and keep it internal to the town. This is the way."
He looks back up to the ceiling and thinks for a second.
"I can get behind this, only if you can assure me that the people won't suffer and you won't remove more from the town's reserve than what's necessary."
"Seventy-five percent I will keep as collateral. I believe this number is fair."
"Eighty-five percent instead? We start with that percentage and once the trust has been gained we can change it according to our needs. "
"Fine, but I won't go higher than eighty percent speed is a higher priority than anything else."
"That much is manageable. However, what about security? How do we prevent that 'Maverous' from trying to gain control over this endeavour?"
"My solution to this: add another seat to the 'Office Of Good Order'. Appoint me as the finance minister."
"Ridiculous. Impossible. Things have been unchanged for years; no one else will accept it."
"You know the rules. Each member gains an extra vote on issues deemed to be within their jurisdiction to prevent a tie. This is admin, your vote counts for two here, plus Jiord—that's three versus four. We're already close to a majority."
"Naomi already relies entirely on Giana's mining output to operate town logistics, so she will cave to her every request. Giana won't allow anything that reduces her pockets, and Maverous wouldn't either. Even if this gets through they will try to find a way to strike back."
"Then we have to convince old farmer Zerbus, and what do you know—currently the farmers are protesting. That smells like an opportunity to me. We have to convince him to vote our way. No one else believes in the farmers, so we will."
"That..."
"Then this will work." I state.
"It has potential. I will only admit that much. I will take my leave and think deeply on this matter."
"Good. This will all take time in due course, think on this matter. Can you bring Ileane in next?"
He walks out the room, eyes circling around the place in contemplation as he almost walks into the doorway—catching himself at the last second, hand shooting out to steady himself so he doesn't fall over.
His legs lagging behind his head as the door almost closes behind him.
Bang.
A great large body knocks past nelson flying toward me.
She picks me up and squeezing me tight in her muscular embrace.
"Desmond, desmond, are you okay? I'm really sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't think Jiord would actually manipulate you like that. I feel entirely responsible." Ileane speaks in clear articulation.
"He was just an agent. Why worry?"
"Todd? Who cares about that fucker. You're my friend first, and I unknowingly manipulated you into doing that. That is bad. I feel responsible—even the alcohol now tastes bitter when I drink it."
"You're more sad that you can't drink anymore."
"Don't say things like this. I still have feelings too, y'know. What I did was shameful, I will admit that much. You were so different—smart, but also attentive. I just worry that I've turned you into something that you're not."
"Don't worry now, Ileane. I forgive you." I pat her back.
She calms down and puts me down on the ground.
I open my drawer and place another document on the table.
"What's this then."She grabs at the report heavy handedly
"Your task I want you to complete."
"Project Cold Turkey. What in a yonk is a turkey?"
"Just read what's written there for me."
"Fine" she mutters to herself.
"..."
Her full attention focuses onto the pages below. At every word read, her eyes widen.
She looks up at me, then back down at the document. Her mouth hanging open.
"What the actual fuck is this shit, Desmond? You want me to do what? This is Jiord levels of inconsideration."
"I know, and I understand it, so I will reward you." I step closer to her.
"I can only trust a friend with this. Out of all these plans, Ileane, this one matters most to me. I will rely on you to do this."
"Fucken fine, fucker. How can I decline this after what I did to you?"
"I promise I won't let you do this for free, though. I can give you all the drinks you want."
"No. I quit."
"What?"
"I said I just quit drinking. Deal with it."
"No, no, Ileane. You shouldn't do it like that. This is bad—you have to slowly reduce the amount. You can't quit like that."
"Why not?"
"It's bad for you."
"How do you know?"
"Just trust me, okay?"
"You're just trying to use alcohol to leverage against me for payment, do I look stupid."
"No, no I would never. I will help you get off it, I will support this step you take. I'm proud of you really. Let me help you, I will give you a plan on how you're supposed to do it the right way to avoid potential harm. I will administer it for you. Just please do this—you could lose your life."
"Tsk. Fine. But if you don't do this, I will hate you forever."
"Forever is a long time to miss a friend." I sniffle out a reply.
She looks down to the floor, her twitching biceps gradually relax in her crossed arms.
"Yeah. I know. That's the point, stupid."
I ignore her insults and continue speaking.
"So what concerns do you have about doing this plan then, tell me?"
"The prowlers are a problem."
"They always will be a problem, apart from that—if I could get a way to make them not a threat, then would you do it?"
"Impossible. The dark lands are one thing, but the dead lands are another."
Before I can even place the next document her talons draw quick and pilfer it from my loose grasp.
Her eyes follow across the page in horror.
"This... you're asking me to figure out how to—" She punches the wall, and stares back up at me, nose flaring as she takes quick but staggering breaths.
"No. I can't even engage with this Desmond. Do you understand what you're asking people to give up?"
"Some sacrifices must be made. This is merely an assurance for the cause." I try and explain.
"Asking me to do something is one thing, this affects everyone! Everyone, do you understand the weight of those words that just came out of your mouth? How can you be so heartless? I did change you didn't I? I'm responsible for you, for this, for them"
"Hate it, despise it; this is the only way! I see no other option for us to move forward without this, will we go all the way or we will perish. Tell me Ileane, is there an alternative? Tell me, convince me so I don't go ahead with this bastard plan. I am fully aware of the consequences. I will take them into my heart so no one else will have to, so you won't have.."
I stare into her eyes, voice dropping to a whisper
"If it comes to this—if I ask them to give up their hope—will they agree? Will they stand by it? Will this move them to action? Will it all be worth it in the end?
A tear falls down her face. She brushes it off and turns around toward the door, but remains completely still.
"Allow me to be the one to care so you don't have to?" I suggest behind her back.
She stomps out the room.
The door slams shut.
She actually left.
I pick up the dropped document.
My grip around the plans tighten. Then slowly I place it back into the drawer and lock it shut.
There is much guilt to be worked over.
Should I keep pretending I'm fine?
I'm such a bad friend.