Free Perfect Flaw by Robin Blankenship Page A

now that the situation was back to normal, it was perhaps understandable that some people loosened up a bit.
    On the other hand, the Council’s views were not open to discussion, and City workers, especially in the higher levels, were supposed to show unswerving support and dedication. This was of utmost importance. Life in the City had been prosperous for as long as most people could remember, and that was largely due to the Council’s uncompromising reign. It was only logical that all the City’s inhabitants, and in particular the higher level workers, would hold the Council in the highest esteem and apply its directives unconditionally. In that respect the Squad Leader had failed. Even if there were extenuating circumstances, there was too much at stake in this post-revolutionary period to allow for any weakness in a higher level worker.
    Ross noted in his report that the Squad Leader of his district had turned into a liability, and that the Justice Administrator should take the steps he deemed necessary. Then Ross leaned back in his seat, convinced he had done the right thing. The City’s guaranteed security relied on men like him.
    The following days brought nothing special. The weather was quite normal, mostly overcast with an occasional sprinkle of sunshine, no rain, and just a light breeze. He did not spot any intrusions in his district, even if he checked everything with renewed rigour. It appeared this kind of weather indeed rendered living conditions easier and the population more subdued. It was true that there was no trace left anymore of the revolutionary atmosphere of a few weeks ago.
    One day there was a small incident after the public lunch in the mess-hall. Since the contamination of the food supplies, their lunch consisted of an indefinable clump of grey material that lacked taste and looked pretty unappetising. Still, most people were glad they were back on regular portions. As a group of workers prepared to go back to their districts, one man held up his hand and said:
    “Wait, please. I need to ask something. Does anybody know what we’re eating? Does anybody know what that stuff we’re served is made of?”
    “Does it matter?” someone replied. “It’s safe and hygienic. It’s healthy and nutritious. What else do you want?”
    “I just need to know what it is made of. It can’t contain meat or vegetables, as there are no animals or plants in the City. So it must be synthetic. But how does synthetic food attract cockroaches, as they said? How do you explain that?”
    “It may be synthetic, but it’s edible, right?”
    “Are you sure it’s edible? Have you tasted that stuff?”
    “This discussion is leading nowhere,” another man said. “We should be happy we have sufficient and adequate food supplies again. No more questions need be asked.”
    “I’m not calling for a revolution,” the man said. “I just want to know what we’re getting to eat.”
    Nobody bothered to reply, and they all went their separate ways, eager to go back to their jobs. Ross was neither surprised nor unhappy to find out the man was no longer among them the following day. It could only mean one of his colleagues had taken up his responsibility and passed on the information about this case of socially unacceptable criticism to the authorities. As a matter of fact, he had considered doing so himself.
    A few days later he spotted a bird at the edge of his district on his early inspection round. The animal was sitting in a portico and did not fly away when he approached. Upon closer inspection he found the bird was injured, perhaps even dying. That explained why the bird had landed here, as in principle there was nothing in the City that might attract birds or any other creatures. This animal must have been too weak to continue its flight, and had come here to die. He called for the Cleaning Squad, adding that this was not an emergency requiring the full Squad.
    Shortly afterwards a handful of men arrived, led