Chapter 29: [29] Statues Lie
The morning sun beat down on Hotaru Town’s main square. Pierre wiped sweat from his brow, the coarse fabric of his borrowed fisherman’s shirt already clinging to his shoulders.
Navy sailors stood at every corner, rifles held at ready position. Nobody spoke above a whisper. Children clung to their parents’ legs, eyes darting between the armed guards and the massive veiled monument that dominated the square’s center.
"Quite the turnout," Raven murmured beside him, her voice barely audible.
She’d tucked her distinctive hair beneath a worn headscarf, transforming herself into just another downtrodden townsperson. The effect was so complete that Pierre had nearly missed her when she’d slipped into position next to him ten minutes earlier.
"Forced attendance tends to guarantee a full house." Pierre kept his own voice low, scanning the crowd for any sign of recognition. His red hair was hidden beneath a knitted cap that itched terribly in the heat, but it was better than a bullet to the skull.
The grandstand at the square’s eastern edge held Captain Hardy and his officers. Even from this distance, Pierre could see the man’s chest puffed out, medals catching the sunlight as he gestured to his subordinates.
Lieutenant Commander Reynolds stood at Hardy’s right shoulder, clipboard in hand, while a dozen other officers formed a semicircle of blue and white.
"Citizens of Hotaru Town!"
Hardy’s voice, amplified by a brass speaking horn, boomed across the square. The crowd fell silent instantly, even the crying babies seeming to sense the danger in the air.
"Today marks a glorious Chapter in our island’s proud history!"
Hardy continued his oration, one hand gripping the podium’s edge while the other swept through grandiose gestures. "For too long, the forces of chaos and disorder have threatened the peace we have worked so hard to establish. Pirates ravage our seas. Criminals lurk in our shadows. Dissidents question the very foundations of civilized society."
A woman near Pierre shifted uncomfortably, her weathered hands clutching a young boy’s shoulders. The child couldn’t be more than seven, but there was no light in his eyes.