Grace's smile was polite, measured, faintly amused.
"What is your question, Miss Peerny?"
Rachel Peerny, the bakery owner and second lottery winner, spoke,
"I'm sorry to intrude, but you didn't mention how it will be decided who from each side gets to speak. Some of us are unaccustomed to this format, so I hope you can explain when and how we should speak."
Grace snapped her fingers in response to Rachel's question.
At the signal, the assistants rose in unison, placing a bell in front of each member.
"This," Grace said, motioning toward the bells, "is how we will determine speakers."
With a click, two platforms rose in the center of the C-shaped table.
"In a conventional debate," Grace said, "two speakers would be selected in advance. They would prepare accordingly and present their arguments in sequence."
She paused briefly.
"That structure, however, depends on knowing what one is preparing against."
Another click.
One of the platforms lowered, leaving only a single stage.
"As that is not the case here, we will proceed differently. One speaker at a time. No preselection. No anticipation. You will step forward, present your points, and return."
She tilted her head slightly, hand brushing her cheek.
"And of course," she added, voice soft yet deliberate, "I hadn't yet mentioned the third meeting, where the final decision of the Male Protection Act will be rendered. That will be addressed at the proper moment. Also, Miss Rachel, raising your hand is unnecessary. Ring the bell. Courtesy dictates you allow others to finish speaking first. Clarifications may follow, private inquiries permitted afterward. Efficiency, respect, and awareness—these are the guiding principles."
She let that settle. Silence stretched, taut, until Rachel pressed the bell.
"Yes, Miss Rachel," Grace said, calm, measured, almost conspiratorial. "Do you have a question?"
"Yes. I would like to know who the primary judge for this case is."
Grace's hands lifted slightly, gesture light but deliberate.
"Ah. A very important question." She motioned to Angela.
"If you look to your right, you will see Angela Piao. Many of you have likely heard the name. She is recognized for technological contributions across multiple sectors. Yet, what makes her suitable is not only accomplishments, but detachment."
At her sister's jabs, Angela could do nothing but gently squeeze Cubby's body.
In her mind, she repeated, I am a worm, and a worm does not speak, over and over again.
"She is involved in much, yet aligned with none," Grace continued. "Her work has benefited men and women alike, across military, infrastructure, and technological domains. Technically astute, socially and historically unburdened. Neutral. Informed. And, given the short notice for this meeting, precisely the candidate we required. Anything less would have been… inadequate. Perhaps amusing, if one enjoys watching incompetence struggle."
A small, polite smile appeared on Grace's face.
Her eyes stopped on Garfield Everworth, as if speaking solely to him.
"Under normal circumstances, a traditional candidate might have been chosen. But urgency dictated practicality."
Grace's eyes turned back to Rachel Peerny.
"I trust that answers your question, Miss Peerny."
Rachel nodded, a small, respectful movement that barely disturbed the silence.
Grace's eyes swept across the room, pausing on a few attentive faces before settling on the group as a whole. Her smile remained polite, measured, faintly amused.
"Very well," she said, her voice calm yet carrying a quiet weight that drew every ear.
She extended her hand slightly, a subtle gesture toward the bell then the podium, inviting the first to take their turn.
"Let the meeting commence."