“Commander Fentlow. Colleagues,” said Dent, saluting briefly and taking his seat. He fought to catch his breath and feign composure. “I was unwell, yes. But I am on the mend. I am aware of the gravity of the situation and felt I should make every effort to attend this emergency session. I can only apologise for my late arrival.”
“Apology unnecessary. And we are pleased to hear your health has improved.”
“I appreciate time is of the essence, but perhaps you could appraise me of the discussion thus far and I’ll add my contribution.”
“Certainly.” Fentlow felt like a lifeline had appeared from nowhere. He grabbed it with desperate hands. Revitalised by relief and hope, he outlined the situation and the proposals discussed. He concluded by saying, “We welcome your thoughts, Commander Lore,” drumming his fingers on the table.
“I must admit, I am astonished by the suggestion to consult the detained Governor, bypassing the restrictions imposed by Article Twenty-One. That would constitute a criminal act. I, for one, would not be party to that. Indeed, I am surprised that any member of this Council would.” He looked around the room. All eyes were averted. “Secondly, I believe the proposal for military intervention in the absence of any criminal behaviour would be a contentious move, let alone an unwarranted one. Granted, we apply a heavy hand when the situation demands it. Justification negates the need for caution. However, I hardly think the fact that citizens have collectively decided to peacefully gather, displaying no sign of protest whatsoever, warrants forceful arrest and incarceration. And that is regardless of whether or not we have capacity in our centres to detain them, which we do not.”
“Yes, yes,” said Fentlow. “A point well made.”
“Meanwhile, it strikes me your deliberations have overlooked something that is rather obvious.”
Everyone looked to Dent.
Fentlow’s brows raised in hope. “What might that be?”
“The citizens are not demonstrating. There is no sign of protest. Yet they must be there for a reason. Twenty thousand people standing in the same place, at the same time, is beyond the realms of coincidence. Has anyone actually spoken to them? Asked them why they are doing this?”
“I, er… I hardly think that appropriate.”
“Why? They have decided to forgo several days’ pay. Whatever their reason for doing so, it must be important enough for them to make such a sacrifice. To my mind, their actions suggest they want something. And, in order for us to get them back into work, it would be helpful to know what that something is. Would it not?”
“But we can’t go striking deals without the Chief of Command.”
“Where’s the Chief of Staff?”
“Ahh…”
Dent knew full well that the Chief of Staff would have withdrawn without Wulfwin’s coat-tails to hang on to. He took a moment to calm his nerve. He felt it was going well. He didn’t want to blow it by appearing over-confident. He tried to emulate his former demeanour and held back.
After a pause, during which everyone around the table appeared to be waiting for him to continue, he said, “We have a chain of command, the limits of which have been exposed. Both Chiefs are absent and yet a decision must be made. There is no precedent to follow, and I know of no protocol. Meanwhile, the suggestion to speak to a representative citizen is merely fact-finding. It is not contiguous with any particular course of action. You asked me for my thoughts. It would appear to me to be the most sensible thing to do, given the circumstances.”
Fentlow detected a chance to pass the baton. “I agree. A decision must be made and this is a sensible first step. You speak with conviction, Commander Lore. Have you sufficient certitude to stand behind your proposal? Are you, with the backing of this Council, prepared to give the order?”
“I have confidence in my reading of the situation. I also have confidence that the Chief of Command would share my view. We see things the same. Wulfwin has said as much in the past. So yes, with the support of the Council, I am prepared to give the order and accept full responsibility for the consequences.”
A simultaneous release of breath came from around the table, with much smiling and relaxing of shoulders. The Commanders either side of Dent turned to him and shook his hand. Fentlow rose, beaming. “Colleagues, with your consent, I hand over to Commander Lore. Does any member object?” He looked around the table, returning the smiles. “Excellent. In which case…” He held out a hand, passing on the burden he could not wait to shed.
As he sat down, Dent Lore rose. “Colleagues. To my mind, asking the question of the citizens is a straightforward move that does not compromise our position in any way. We act discretely but swiftly. We contact the Senior Duty Officer in the Exchange, order them to make themselves visible in the entrance to the building. Citizens will interpret this for what it is. An invitation to parley. Once we hear what it is they want, then we will be in a far stronger position. We retain the upper hand. No ground will have been lost. With your agreement, I propose we action this immediately. A show of hands, please. All in favour?”
Within moments, orders were sent to Comms Control. A call was received by the Duty Officer, who made her way through the great hall of the Exchange and stood in its main entrance, dwarfed by the scale of all around her. She waited, nervous and exposed.
Dent took his seat once more and helped himself to a glass of water from a pitcher in the centre of the table. Remembering in time, he refrained from drinking any.
Meanwhile, the delegates from Employment, Transport, Trade and Industry arrived, joined by their disgruntled counterpart from Revenue. Fentlow made what he
