The tension in the room was palpable. I was used to this sort of environment, even if it wasn’t always productive. The council members bickered with one another about what to do with Rhea. As I expected, which was the reason I let the decision reach this table at all.


    I knew in my heart what I wanted to do, take her in and shield her from Wally. But in my mind I knew which decision would be better for the Sanctum, hand her over and spare the conflict.


    Patrick was mostly silent on the issue, but the others made up for his abstaining.


    Ivan jabbed a finger at Nico, accusing him of protecting her to soothe his own guilt. Nico, slamming his fist on the table, rebuffed this accusation saying that Ivan was only interested in preserving himself and shouldn’t even be on the council.


    Both of which were unfair accusations.


    Ivan was my best friend back in the times before the flare, back when I knew him as Evan, and now he sat on the council as our Quartermaster. Ivan managed the majority of our inventory, guns and weapons as well as any sort of supplies that weren’t classed under food or medical.


    I didn’t trust anyone to handle the weapons aside from him. Controlling the distribution and management of guns was an imperative role that we needed in order to function.


    Nico was our Drillmaster, in charge of our training regiment. His speciality was hand to hand combat, being a wrestler for the majority of his life. Though he adapted quickly to this new world, and with the aid of Gabriel he picked up fighting with bladed weapons, usually knives, and trained on them as well.


    After some practice, and aid from Ivan and myself, he learned the ins and outs of firearms and soon incorporated firearm training into his regiment too. He and his team trained all of the Enforcers we have, and regularly have classes for anyone that wants to learn self defense.


    His courses are grueling, but he’s an understanding teacher, and I’ve heard nothing but praise from his graduates.


    Both men are cornerstones for the Sanctum, and they know it. But things tend to get a little heated when the discussion floor is open.


    Abigail chimed in a time or two, voicing her distrust of Rhea and how she didn’t believe her story. Adding that she may be a spy sent by Wally to infiltrate our ranks and send intel back to him. Which was a fair argument, though one that didn’t exactly seem realistic to me. There were much better ways to slip a spy into the Sanctum.


    Abigail was our Medicus, well one of two Medicus’, her counterpart sat across from her but was still choosing a side to take. The two Medicus’ weren’t exactly close in a friendly sense, but worked together professionally enough.


    Abigail was in charge of controlling the supply and distribution of medical supplies, she was a Biochem major who was going to work at NASA before all the flares. She was a small woman adopted from Guatemala. She also possessed an autoimmune disorder so was often seen wearing a mask over her face. She was always wary of newcomers, which worked well to balance out the other Medicus.


    Jaspin, who finally gave his opinion, being that we should take a chance on her and see if she could fit into the Sanctum. Jaspin was an RN who had worked in a senior living center prior to the flare. You wouldn’t take him for a nurse necessarily, being one of the largest guys in the group, but he had a kind heart who loved to help people.


    While Abigail handled the medical supplies and medicine, Jaspin worked as a sort of field medic. He was in charge of handling actual injuries and illnesses. These two worked in tandem to keep the Sanctum’s residents as healthy as possible in our given scenario.


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    So far that was two for keeping Rhea, and two for getting rid of her. A decision like this didn’t require the full council to actually rule with a vote, and as such some of the members were absent.


    But these people were all acquainted before the flare, and even more so after the fact. Which meant just the four of them arguing was enough to sound like there were twice the number in this room.


    They didn’t add much else, mainly just repeating the arguments they had already made. Ivan and Nico were doing most of the arguing, even rising in their seats to shout across at one another. Abigail glared across at Jaspin, upset with him taking the side against her.


    As if on cue, Gabriel, our Arbiter, rose from his seat. A history major, who specialized in public speaking and problem solving. He had a way with words, and a way of smothering others with his presence, if I didn’t know him better I’d hate him no doubt.


    “Gentle, gentlemen, please,” Gabriel said, eliciting an eye roll from both Nico and Ivan. Though, both men, the massive and brawny Nico, and the wiry but tight Ivan, sat down.


    “Everyone raises fair points here at this table. This woman, Rhea, does she pose a benefit to the Sanctum? Perchance. Could she also be a risk that we do not need at this moment in time? Just as likely. So what are we to do at this point? What is the way out of this predicament?


    “The simplest answer, often the best, would be to return her to Wally as a peace offering. Or simpler even, send her on her way and when they come looking for her we simply point them in her direction. This would free us of any conspiracy against Wally, but just as equally show we are not interested in dealing with him.”


    Ivan and Abigail nodded along to this.


    “Abigail does raise a fair point, what if she is a spy? That could be even more detrimental than the war that might start over her being here. We simply cannot risk another infiltration, we have seen how destructive this sort of thing can be.”


    We had lost at least two months worth of canned foods a few months back to a defector, someone who had sided against us in the battle for Millhaven had then flipped to our side. As it turns out they hadn’t really flipped, their goal was to sabotage our food supplies. Thankfully they were found out before any more food could be wasted, but the damage was done.


    “But then I ask, what was the foundation that the Sanctum was built upon?” He paused for dramatic effect, and I had to roll my eyes at that one.


    “Was it not to protect its inhabitants, to provide purpose and utility to everyone that wished for it? Was it not to ensure order and maintain peace? Was it not to rehabilitate this world, to free it from corruption and give way to a time of fruitfulness? Were we not assembled to achieve this goal? Were we not sworn to pursue this mission until the end?”


    He was getting over zealous now, as he tended to do. Nothing he was saying was incorrect, necessarily, it just sounded a lot better coming out of him than it did when it was broken down to the basics. He conveniently left out the bad we’d done, we weren’t perfect. It was true that we sought purpose, and valued utility, but to reach those heights we had to do some nefarious things, things that didn’t need to see the light of day.


    “I ask you now, is it us who would turn our backs on someone in need? Or is it us who stand for the weak, who give purpose to the needy, who aid all that are in need? Is that not what Sol Sanctum is founded upon? It is! Those who wish to cast this girl aside argue against our very foundation, argue against what makes us us. So now, I turn my time over to the Lord himself,” he said with a bow, gesturing to me, “Lord Sol, I ask you now to protect this Rhea, and to keep her safe from the powers that pursue her.”


    With a dramatic conclusion he returned to his seat. And all eyes were drawn to me.


    I drummed my fingers along the armrest of my chair, taking in the looks from each of them. While Gabriels words might have sounded nice, they were more immune to his wordsmithing than the masses, and I could tell that they did not sway Abigail or Ivan. Patrick finally met my eyes, asking me nonverbally what my decision would be.


    I let out a sigh, in return they held their breath in anticipation. I had to admit, even I liked the dramatic flair sometimes.


    “She stays.”


    The tension bled out of the room, slow and reluctant. Like it or not, they would accept it. I was the leader. The choice was mine.