Peyton turned his head sharply to the side and fell silent. He wanted to listen, to get a better sense of how he was perceived by those around him. He wanted to listen, to get a better sense of how he was being perceived by the people around him, to catch their waves, to make that wave his own and start manipulating it in the direction he wanted it to go.
He could see now that at least three of the two and a half thousand people in the audience were not listening to him. Of course, those were only the people who were showing obvious signs of not listening: looking away or leaning back in their chairs, perhaps even asleep.
Peyton, when he saw this, remembered one of his golden rules of a contest called "Peyton vs. Mankind," where he had to win the minds of others. And he knew full well that if he could get the attention of those who wouldn't listen to him, he was sure to have a successful outcome. Most importantly, these three. Peyton called them "blocks" that had to be moved. And it was necessary to do everything to make them listen to him, to take the posture of agreement, to nod at his words, and perhaps even to agree to listen.
– I have two pieces of news for you: good and bad! – Peyton announced and noticed that one of the three blocks moved and turned its head towards him. – And I will start with the bad news…
My dear fellow citizens, we have been walking to this stage for a very long time! Longer than
expected. Because it turns out there are those among us who don't want our cause to succeed. Who want to destroy our society! Yes, you heard right. We have enemies among us. There are those among us who want to turn the world inside out. Who want to see blood and murder of our citizens. We are in mortal danger!
Peyton looked around the room carefully: the effect was not too strong, but enough to make all three blocks start listening to him. He realized that the more high-flown expressions he gave out, the more difficult it would be for him to move on, because in order to keep his attention, he had to keep raising the degree. And you can't do it indefinitely. Therefore, it is necessary to spend this resource wisely, and we can only hope that spending it now was the right decision.
– That was the bad news… And the good news is that we made it… My dear beloved citizens of Apollo 24, we made it… We can be proud of ourselves because we found this man. We found this pest. We were able to stop this disease in time. We proved to be stronger than our trials…
Peyton saw two of the three clumps turn away again. Which meant he had to raise the degree further. Raise it to bring them back. It was either him or them. Someone had to win, and it was going to be Peyton Cross, not some lousy laborers who decided to think they were above the Elder.
– Now tell me, what is to be done with this pest? – Peyton asked threateningly, and several people from different parts of the hall immediately shouted "Kill him," "Destroy him," "Hang him." They shouted, waving their hands, standing up a little from their seats and showing a literal personal rage against the yet unknown man, but as soon as Peyton raised his hand, they all instantly fell silent.
Peyton had been practicing something like this for a long time. Actually, it was not his own invention, but part of the theater life of the 19th century, which he read about in one of the textbooks on theatrical skills. This textbook described specially hired people for a play who were located in the auditorium itself, on an equal footing with the regular audience. They were called clackers, and it was their duty to respond as publicly as possible to pre-prepared phrases, and while in the 19th century they were used to create excitement and cheer up the crowd, in his use Peyton extended these possibilities right down to the throwing in of an entire opinion. The very same opinion that he could put forward as the opinion of the people, received by him at a public speech.
– I confess that I too have thought of such a solution, but it is too harsh… Even in spite of such fierce violations (the index finger went up). Even in spite of the felony (index finger back down)… And I've always told you to be friendly. Helping each other… That the rules shouldn't be too rigid. That you should give second chances (index finger up again)… And now you see where it led (index finger down again)… It led to an attempt on Delaney Stormrider's life. Our dear and beloved food section employee. The person who is responsible for making sure that we are fed… That we eat healthy… That we live… Taylor Redwine! (index finger with the whole hand pointing forward as if threatening everyone around her) The person who tried to kill her is named Taylor Redwine! This villain made an attempt on her life a few days ago, and the investigation found that he planned it in advance. And then he was going to continue his horrible crimes… Tell me, what does our duty tell us to do with such a man? (arms out to the sides)
Again several men rose from their seats and shouted "Execute him," "Destroy the wretch," "Hang him." Peyton pretended to look out over the hall, while he watched his clumps who were defeated – all of them listening to him, waiting to see what decision he would voice. Waiting to see what time would now come on the station.
– I'm afraid it's the only right decision… As hard as it is to make, we have to nip this contagion in the bud… We have to show that our intentions are more serious than ever. That we will fight for our victory in this battle… We must execute him! And to prevent this from happening again, we must properly evaluate this crime… After all, an attempt on a manager's life is a brutal act. It's
not just a violation of some rule. It is a threat to our existence. It is treason against our world, against our nation. It is treason against ourselves… And it should be called accordingly… Treason....
– Execution for treason! – shouted one of the clackers, and immediately several supported him with a shout of "Yes!". People were driven to a frenzy in which they could not deny that something was going wrong, or not the way they wanted it to. They only began to want to agree with everything, to be in a common rhythm, to be part of the whole that was behaving right. Right means safe, because the new understanding of the world order included first of all the preservation of one's own life. Which now depended primarily on following the logic established by the rules.
Rules that could change, as they had just done. Which meant that the only way to remain intact, to stay alive, was to be compliant.
– And if anyone still thinks that's too harsh, let him have his say now! – Peyton thundered, throwing his pen on the podium table. At the same moment the clackers instantly froze, and there was a deafening silence in the hall, which lasted only a few seconds. Peyton defiantly looked around the hall, imagining that everyone could see his confident and formidable silhouette from their seats, and then solemnly proclaimed:
– So it's unanimous. Execution for treason.
Chief of
security
Bill Sterling was an elder. He was also chief of security. And he was also the only one of all the elders who was himself in charge of one of the sections on the station. And in all the time he'd possessed all of that, the thing he'd learned the most was restraint. It was the cornerstone of his whole policy, his whole system for staying on top.
There was no need to inconvenience the other elders. That was the first point of restraint…
He sometimes wished he could take on the task of cleaning up what was going on in the Supreme Council of Elders. At least once to clean it of those people who just waste other people's time, take other people's place, use other people's powers, and do nothing in their place. As much as he wanted to interfere, he would not allow himself to do so.
