Three days later, the emergency meeting proceeded as scheduled.
There was hardly anyone outside the parliament building. The city government had issued martial law several days earlier, and military vehicles and personnel had surrounded the area.
A long procession of black cars arrived from the north under military escort. As the distance closed, the resplendent parliament building loomed ever nearer in the legislators' eyes.
The legislators stepped out of their cars one after another, dressed in all manner of colorful clothing, each bearing distinctive local characteristics. As they climbed the long marble steps, the white parliament building looked down on them like a giant, blotting out the sky—dazzling, immaculate, square and perfectly proportioned. It wore the vigorous bearing of a healthy man, majestic and grand. It was difficult to imagine that it had maintained its former splendor in an era like this.
Under the guidance of security personnel, the representatives headed for the chamber. The faint scent of solid wood drifted from the circular table; this place had only recently become the parliament building's new site.
The room centered on the dais, with a podium beside it, while the legislators' seats were arranged in a semicircle. In earlier years, these seats were often far from full. Today, with far more legislators than before, the chamber seemed somewhat crowded.
With so many people gathered together, it was naturally rather noisy. Groups chatted, joked, and cursed under their breath—everything was there. The Speaker on the dais brought down his gavel heavily on the podium's desk, cleared his throat, and said, "Order."
Yet the legislators below continued clamoring without pause.
Acting Speaker Burke struck the gavel even harder.
"Order! Order! Ordeeer!"
He drew out the last word as his gaze swept across the crowd. The noise gradually subsided.
"The purpose of this emergency