The delegate answered only after the moderator asked him a second time.
“If continued extraction were necessary to preserve the seal until transition,” he said, “the majority might have to authorize it.”
The woman holding the corrected contact briefing set it flat on the table. Eli saw the care she took not to tear it. Around her, families who had disagreed about public testimony now listened to the same sentence with a stillness that made the hall feel smaller.
“Their inability to answer is what the reservoir did to them,” she said. “You want to use the injury as proof they agree.”
The delegate said he wanted a rule that would keep the meeting from abandoning people through endless uncertainty. Some captives might never produce an interpretable reply. The reservoir would not wait until the living had solved every question. A representative majority, however imperfect, could act where an individual could not.
“Act how?” she asked.
“To save the most possible.”
“You’ve already said that might mean drawing more from the silent ones.”
