A Very Big Family

He wasn't the only one. Those with piloting HUDs like him blinked as a new object appeared in their vision, some almost cringing from the realism of that head. Those without found their screens vibrating or their communicators ringing. Everyone was checking something, and the assembly turned into a cluster of isolated activity. Though he was the first to see it, he was as engrossed in the study of the new addition as any of them.

He was the first to activate the icon too. Electric words entered his ears as an accompanying wall of text spewed across his sight: "After deliberation, the One-Light Directory has concluded that hard times are approaching humanity. Please remain diligent and aware that further announcements will come at unscheduled and unexpected times. For the moment, please mentally prepare for a potential increase in human casualties."

The black head wasn't seen exclusively by those within the Chamber of Meet. Every single person within human territory, as small as it shrunk, possessed something. A HUD, a screen, a communicator, even word of mouth. And now, that head and its words made their way to the forefront of the Last Light's common news.

Outside Ardiseg Hall, people were in large and small clusters alike, conversing with rabid attention and solemnity. Some didn't like the sound of the message, some hated it, others feared it; every reaction to the announcement was negative, for what was positive and associated with the Aud?

Some parents left their positions early to retrieve their children. Families at the parks and lake returned to their residencies, talking in low, hushed tones to not be overheard. Intriguing to some psychologists, was the lack of suicide attempts, sudden fights and brawls, and spikes in crime, as rare as they were in "normal" times.

But was it? Cowardice and escaping from reality...that wouldn't do, not for those who would leave their mortal coil, and not for those they'd leave behind. To even think of such a possibility was antithetical: unthinkable, something surreptitious to purge from thought and intent like the idea of theft, or of rape.

Inside Ardiseg Hall, everything was much more controlled. Though before entering the meet, Eighth Headman had deployed some of her staff both outside to watch and interfere with the civilian population and inside to keep eyes on potential troublemakers, both groups acted as unnecessary precautions. There was the brief shock, the surprise at the announcement.

But everyone working at Ardiseg Hall were veterans; all humanity's adult demographic was, granting themselves peace of mind in situations children couldn't. That was the reasoning behind some retrieving their children: not for their own sakes, but for the children, still too young to understand that because the Directory warned of potential armageddon, hardly meant it would pass as foretold.

But this current "calm before the storm" was only due to a lack of information. The happenings within the Directory were hardly covered by an airtight seal. Most employees had families, and some would find the challenge of veiling the fall of every last bastion outpost a weight too great to bear.

If anything about that escaped Ardiseg Hall…well, the reaction would nowhere resemble what the Eighth was seeing now. They would find themselves obligated to enter into public precedence.

He approached the Third Headman, Eighth Headman hot behind him. Before he could clasp the taller man's shoulders, he looked down at him. "I know, I've already assigned my men to it."

"Will they be able to intercept every potential leak in time?"

"They might not have if I ordered them to begin operations now." He shrugged and fiddled with his communicator. It looked like an older model than his own. "But you warned me of this eventuality before the meet, remember? I took it as a sign and readied the bulk of the Third's staff on stand-by."

There was little doubt that out of all the present headmen, the Third had the greatest trouble predicting anything the Prime Beacon would say, never bothering to consider what he'd do. A shame, since they were allies.

He'd taken this into account, and rather than bank on the unreliable and slim chance that the Third Headman would catch on to the most likely course of action, he'd elected to inform him in private. They'd never gotten a chance for an office discussion with the Eighth, after all.

Eighth Headman leaned in and whispered, high with conspiratorial energy, "Why do you call them your 'men?' Aren't they all your cousins or something down that line?"

The Third Headman muffled her mouth. "What are you doing?! Watch what you say when there's so many potential listeners!" His hisses and sudden movements served unfaithful to avoid attracting eyes, though he had already said what he'd needed to.

The Third Ray of Public Information, at least on record, was responsible for organizing all the data of the Ninth's archives. While they were responsible for mad, uncoordinated collecting, the Third's people ensured there existed order in this collection. They also determined what was safe for unrestricted viewing to the public, and what remained beyond the realm of consideration for it.

If the staff composing this ray were all normal, interconnected people with families outside their work, keeping all confidential data from leaking in every format possible was about as successful as spraying an Aud with a hose.

Fortunate this wasn't the situation, then. The Third's staff were in reality one intermarried family. Eighth Headman's words weren't incorrect. One of the assistive representatives that stayed close by his side whenever he sat? One of his second cousins. The aide he continued to look to for further information? His granddaughter.

With everyone being even more interconnected, yet lacking the obvious vulnerabilities of external connections, the Third could carry out its duty as one large, happy family of spies and regulatory staff of all humanity's information; in a very literal sense, too.

At that time, the former members of the neutrality pact arrived. Ninth Headman cleared his throat and uttered in a dreadful, rasping willow of speech, "Won't the general populace and the government staff outside the Third and this chamber find it suspicious that no reasoning is listed? Some would become curious with time."

"We'll deal with those curious enough to look when they rear their heads. Sometimes, humanity's worst sin is its wondering."

Eighth Headman nodded along. "That was a very nice sentiment. Can I quote that?"

"No."

"Boring man. You're boring!"

"I know." He'd long accepted he'd his address as "boring man" would persist for the rest of his days, or for the rest of hers, so the familiarity of the two words brought him a small smile. "Leave it be for a second; we're not finished yet."