35. Flashback I
Vermin...
Sitting in his office, Victor watched the residents receiving relief supplies on the television screen and sank into thought.
***
"No!"
One of the residents' representatives slammed his hand on the desk and shouted at the mediation council.
"Refugees? Do you even know what kind of situation District 3 is in right now? People are going bankrupt because there are no jobs! Every time we wake up, another family next door has been thrown out onto the street! The minimum livelihood support can't even keep up with the speed at which people are collapsing! And those well-fed pig landlords, who care only about their own interests, are dragging tenants out with hired thugs the moment they fail to pay rent. Families with no income, unable to repay their debts, are ending up on the streets with their children—one house out of every two! Haven't you seen those children catching diseased rats to eat, then foaming at the mouth and collapsing into cold corpses after infection? The bodies of people who starved to death are lying by the roadside like garbage bags! And now you want to bring in refugees too? In a situation where there's not even enough work for the people already here, what exactly do you expect us to do with them?!"
One of the council members frowned and answered,
"Didn't the city say the refugees would be managed separately? They'll receive subsidies from the government, and if anything, their spending will stimulate consumption in District 3. Wouldn't that benefit your district? If jobs are what concern you so much, then we can issue them separate ID cards. As far as the refugees are concerned, discrimination in employment will not be penalized."
Another residents' representative, who had been listening from beside him, stepped forward in disbelief.
"Managed separately? Is that what you call what happened when the refugees from the Mayu Branch came over last time? You gave them subsidies for the first few years, and the moment the Branch lost interest, you cut them off without mercy. And what happened then, when they could no longer survive? They flooded into the markets and sold themselves for dirt wages. What do you think starving people eventually did just to stay alive? They didn't just steal. They looted the homes of long-time residents, set fires, and sexual assaults became endless! That once peaceful town was turned into a ruin because of your short-sighted policies! And now, in a situation like this, you want to accept even more refugees? We absolutely cannot allow that!"
As the residents' representative shouted in fury, one of the mediation council members sprang to his feet.
"Then what do you suggest we do?! The Branch assigned refugee quotas not only to us but to every autonomous district—Pramo, Mazir, and Zaporizhia as well! We cannot be the only ones to refuse! Why is it that every other region is enduring the same suffering, and only you people insist on complaining? Do you think we're doing this because we want to?"
At that, a woman among the representatives spoke up.
"Then take them to Golden Tower! Take them to that place you people treasure so dearly, the place you act as though you couldn't live without! This district no longer has the capacity to accept refugees! The same goes for every other district! Golden Tower hasn't taken in refugees even once, has it? Then let the district that lives far better than the rest of us take them all in!"
A short, stocky man who had been listening quietly from his seat let out a laugh.
"That's ridiculous. Golden Tower cannot accept refugees. Golden Tower is not a residential district. It is a place where tourists from all over the world gather. What do you think would happen if refugees were taken there? Tourists would never visit Golden Tower again. You all understand, don't you, that the revenue used to cover your districts' deficits and support your finances comes from Golden Tower? If Golden Tower falls, all of Murmansk falls with it!"
The man's sharp outburst silenced the residents' representatives. They wanted to argue back, but could not. In truth, Golden Tower accounted for a considerable portion of every district's finances.
"We understand how important Golden Tower's finances are to us. But if we take in more refugees now, the local economy will collapse even further, and before long everyone will be reduced to beggars! When that happens, people will survive only by looking to Golden Tower for support. We'll become nothing more than slaves, forced to obey whatever the city commands. Shouldn't each district be economically self-reliant if the city as a whole is to prosper?"
At that, Dmitri snorted.
"Slaves? Watch your tongue. Are you trying to make us out to be villains with words like that? Do you have any idea how much we've done for each district? And this is the thanks we get? What shameless people you are. Or perhaps you've already become slaves yourselves, stuffing your mouths with free food for too long."
At Dmitri's final remark, the residents burst to their feet all at once, shouting curses and demanding an apology. But he acted as though their words were no longer worth hearing, lifted his chin, and strode out of the chamber with the others from the council.
***
Knock, knock.
The sound at the mayor's office door broke Victor out of his reverie.
"It's Dmitri."
"Come in."
The short, stocky man opened the door and hurried over to stand before the desk.
"So. The man?"
"He is still being hunted. But there is good news."
"What is it?"
"A short while ago, we confirmed that his ID card was checked at an assembly point in District 8. He must have been caught by Hunters while fleeing all the way out there, far from his home."
"And?"
"But he escaped from the civilian holding camp after only one day. According to the Hunters who caught him, he said he knew someone in Golden Tower and was heading there. We've deployed all available local militia along the routes he might take. Capturing him is only a matter of time now. I'll be sure to bring you better news soon."
Dmitri was sweating, his eyes twitching. He looked at Victor with the desperate hope that even this flimsy explanation might lessen the man's anger toward him.
"Fine. Go."
Victor showed no real reaction. He simply kept staring through the glass at the city's nightscape. Dmitri hesitated awkwardly at the lack of response. He seemed to long, in some way, to recover the relationship they had once had. He wanted to go on insisting that he was doing his best, but sensing the unsettling mood around Victor, he lowered his head and quietly left the room. Victor remained lost in thought.