After Sargent Le Fevre left, DeSantis went back to his bed and sat down. He went into himself and thought back to before the terrorist attacks, the divisions, the blame from all sides to all other sides.
No matter which force happened to be in charge, conditions for everything seemed to continually worsen everywhere all the time. Bureaucracies that used to be manageable by elected officials and navigable by the average citizen gradually became more corrupt, finally becoming impossible-to-access hermit crab shells of their former selves. An increasingly low standard of living was the one thing that all warring factions seemed to share equally.
Rebel leaders, warlords and high government officials soon became the only ones to lead anything that approached what in years past would have been considered a comfortable life – and even their time on this earth was often cut too short to spend much of their precious time available on the mortal coil enjoying creature comforts.
Before anyone could predict, murder and political intrigue seemed to replace openness and the rule of law.
How did things manage to degrade to this point?
Did the country, did Robert’s beloved city- did the world for that matter, stand a chance?
Was it simply a matter of depleted resources?
There were rumors of hoarding circulating for more years than Robert could count. Government officials and rebel leaders supposedly kept more commodities than they could ever hope to use.
The resources for bombs and missiles and bullets never seemed as depletable as meat and flour and fresh fruits and vegetables however.
In recent years, demand for even the most basic medications had begun to outpace supply.
It was in this world, this cruel existence, that the trial would take place.