Free The War Chamber by B. Roman Page B

bigger picture. The Moon Singer was not meant to be used this way. It's a perversion of its power and its importance. And there is more at stake here than just Coronadus. The repercussion of Sechmet's plan could adversely affect everything and everyone in the universe, including your precious Port Avalon.”
    The Council calls again for David to offer his opening argument. They admonish him for wasting precious time having a discussion with Bianca while they have called him several times to take the podium.
    Unobtrusively, Bianca removes the little box from her purse and opens it, expecting to see the glittering Record Keeper. Instead, her heart pounds wildly with shock and confusion at what she sees – or doesn't see. The Singer is not in the box. The Singer is gone. What can she do? Without the Singer, David is no match for Sechmet. Or is he? In a desperate leap of faith, Bianca decides to transfer the oratory she created in her own mind directly into David's consciousness. If he listens closely, he will bring forth a compelling justification for keeping the Singer, and the Moon Singer, out of Sechmet's clutches. He will win the debate. All will remain as it is and Coronadus will be safe from war and destruction. If he listens.
    Holding a coin in her hand, Bianca pretends it is the Singer crystal that she slips into his shirt pocket.
    “You are ready, David. Just keep calm.” Bianca squeezes David's hand reassuringly and places their entwined fists over his heart, reminding him that all of his power lies therein.
    The sharp hammering of the Council president's gavel unnerves David. Terrified, he rises to take his place at the podium. He clears his throat nervously several times and glances over for one last look of support from Bianca. She smiles and nods for him to proceed. He introduces himself and gives his reason for being there and humbly asks the Council to take into consideration that he is a stranger there and not as polished a speaker as Sechmet.
    All alone at the podium, sweating under the unforgiving hot glare of the auditorium lights, David stammers out his words. He pauses, desperately listening, wanting to hear something, anything, searching with beseeching eyes for some explanation from Bianca.
    Why can't I hear anything?
David wonders, panicked.
Why could I hear Ishtar speak to me through the Moldavite and not hear Bianca now?
Then he remembers. On the Island of Darkness, his hearing aid picked up the sound vibrations transmitted by the Moldavite.
It's because I lost my hearing aid in the cemetery before I got to Coronadus! That's why I can't hear the words in the Singer!
    Bianca sinks in her chair in distress, the empty box in her hand.
    David reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out the coin. “Holy cow!” He exclaims. “What do I do now?”

Fourteen
    The Council members shift in their chairs, losing patience with David's unfocused presentation. He tries to improvise with some of the statistics he learned about 40,000 children a day dying in the world because money is spent on wars instead of food and medicine. About what his mother said about peace profiting everyone and war profiting no one. About how he wants to use the Singer for good, not just for power. He has a responsibility and he takes it seriously. He just has to figure out how to use it.
    The huge brass gong is struck by the timekeeper, and its reverberation is felt ominously throughout the auditorium. David's three minutes are up. His knees wobble embarrassingly, and every vital organ in his body quivers from the vibration of the gong.
    “Sechmet, do you wish a rebuttal?” the president of the Council asks.
    “Yes, I do, indeed, Madam Chairman. The boy's arguments are superficial and inept, and have nothing to do with the matter at hand. He has no business possessing this treasure.”
    “That is for us to decide, Sechmet,” the president chastises him.
    “He can't even explain to us how he would begin to use such power contained