Alien at Town Hall

Sadler didn’t appear any different. It was his actions that set him apart.

Not exactly abandoned out in the northern wastes, they weren’t leaving any time soon. The troop formations pursued the enemy, the battle lines had moved rapidly miles away, and there was no provision whatsoever by either the military or the corporate contractor for these civilian contract employees to move on such short notice. Supplies were dropped, but that was about it. Transport wasn’t coming without a substantial escort and nobody trusted the thugs who were available. So they were stuck there until someone could find authorized troops of some sort.

None of them had any kind of rank or pay grade, just individual contracts. So they opted for a townhall in hopes of keeping things somewhat efficient and coordinated. Somebody with a very loud voice stood and offered to play provisional moderator if no one objected. Naturally, nobody wanted to take the blame for anything, so his suggestion was unopposed. He was no dummy. During the first moments of chaos as the people gathered, he had spotted who carried the influence. It was a simple matter of getting them to volunteer for something resembling a leadership council and focus of coordination. It was quasi-democratic but mostly by consensus, since everyone was so reluctant to open their mouths until after someone else spoke. They knew how to carp well enough, once things were on the table.

There was plenty of time for discussion and debate, since the only mission they had at this point was staying alive. The moderator managed to bow out gracefully, having pinned the burden of leadership on someone else. Sadler said nary a word, nor so much as betrayed any emotion during the whole show. He sat on the far edge of the crowd and didn’t even bother to vote either way.

Some old sow with a nearly shaved head had been trying to catch his eye, but he pretended not to notice. She was easily the most repulsive creature in the place, and it was painfully obvious she reveled in it with a perverse delight. In Sadler’s mind, it’s one thing for a woman to have bad luck from the gene pool, but another to emphasize all the worst possible traits a woman could have. Whatever she thought of Sadler didn’t matter because she was merely the worst from a crowd of nearly fifty who might as well have come from a different planet.

She seized upon a quiet moment and pointed to him. “How come you haven’t said anything, Sadler?”

It was almost a meaningless gesture that one of his eyebrows arched slightly. Had the rest of the folks not simply hushed, his voice would have been inaudible to anyone but her. “Anything I say will be used against me.” Two or three of the jokers snickered behind their hands at this, while another guffawed.

The newly drafted president turned toward him and cocked his head to one side. Glancing around at the crowd, he intoned, “I wasn’t aware this was an adversarial hearing.” A few folks chuckled at this and he grinned.

Sadler gazed levelly at the man. “Sir, I simply answered a question.”

“But you make it sound as if we are hostile to your input,” the president said, sweeping his hands wide, palms up. “We haven’t even heard it.”

“Trust me, Sir. If you did hear it, there would be ample hostility.” He sat upright, interlacing his fingers on the back of the chair in front of him. “From the moment this townhall meeting started it took a path far away from where I would prefer to go. I’m hardly surprised; it was what I expected. I have long experience with being an outsider, not in the decisions themselves, but in the democratic format. Given the unanimous assent to this, I am hardly the kind of person to make an issue of it. I’m not interested in making trouble, but I do note in passing that I would prefer to do things altogether differently.”

The president was hardly the only one puzzled. “What am I supposed to do with that?”

“Continue to march, Sir. I’ll go along quietly. For me to say much more would require hours of lecturing and we’ve burned up plenty of time. Maybe some other day, should anyone take an interest.”

“You don’t like democracy? How else would you suggest we do things?”

Sadler half-smiled this time. “Sir, I don’t even like Western Civilization.”

He rose in a fluid motion and strolled out the door as murmurs arose. Outside, one of the generators was sputtering. It was his employers’ generators, and he already knew what his job was at the moment.