Chapter 12: Do Nothing, Politely

The war council met at breakfast, around a pot of oatmeal, with a lantern for a centerpiece and a flat rock for a table.

Dot chaired. Teddy took notes on the back of a laminated card with a grease pencil.

Katja sat at the end next to Harvey and did not look at him, and everyone knew why.

"Wednesday at noon," Dot said. "Lyle Hargrave wants our water."

"He's got forty guards, a bullhorn and a hatchet. We've got a clipboard. Ideas."

Teddy raised his hand.

"A trench," he said. "Around the spring. Eight feet deep."

"We don't have shovels," said Harvey.

"Then a shallower trench."

"We don't have a trench, Teddy."

Dot held up the ladle.

"Next."

"Here's mine," Dot said, and folded her arms. "We feed them."

"Forty men on cold rations for a week. We put a big pot of stew on the bridge. Nobody swings a hatchet on a full stomach."

"They have a cafeteria," Harvey said.

"Not that kind of stew."

Teddy wrote it down anyway.

Everyone looked at Katja.

She had a card already, and she laid it on the rock in front of them with a flat little click.

DO NOTHING. (POLITELY.)

Nobody said anything for several seconds.

"I'm going to need you to explain that one," Harvey said.

Katja took a breath and spent a conversation on it, because for once it was worth it.

"He expects a fight," she said. "He wants a reason to say we started it."

"So we don't fight. We stand at the bridge in a line with the water, and we offer everyone a cup."

"Everyone?"

"Everyone on Landing. Tier 3 first." She tapped the tablet where Teddy kept the dinner footage. "And we show them what they didn't see."

Harvey stared at her for a long moment.

"That's actually good," he said, quietly. "That's very good."

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