Fury began to coil in his chest.
“I have no agreement with you,” he said curtly. “We’ve floated some possibilities. But I’m a public servant, nothing more. And with that in mind, I’m opening this meeting to the public.”
“My Ruler,” the man said. “I meant no offense.”
But Ba’sh was striding toward the doors and unlocking the sensor.
He turned back to the table to see Yasmine smiling widely at him in utter delight.
That was all it took.
“Please come in,” he called to the protesters. “There will be no closed doors meetings during my visit. I’m honored that you have come to share your thoughts.”
The people out on the sidewalk stared at him for a moment. Then a young man strode up.
“Thank you, sir,” he said, walking past Ba’sh and into the diner.
More people followed. They all entered the diner politely, some even nodding their heads or touching their caps to him, in spite of their obvious anger.
When everyone was inside, Ba’sh followed.
“The Ruler would like to treat his guests to breakfast,” Yasmine was saying to the owner of the diner. “Do you think you could get a couple of pots of coffee going and maybe a big mess of eggs and toast?”
“Sure thing, miss,” the owner said, sounding decidedly more cheerful than he had looked when Ba’sh walked in.
He felt the tightness in his stomach let up a little.
Yasmine jogged up to him with a microphone in her hand.
“I know you weren’t going to use this today,” she said. “But maybe it will help encourage people to take turns speaking.”
“Great idea,” he told her, giving her a smile.
She smiled back and he could see the pride and excitement in her eyes. She was happy with his decision. He only hoped he could follow through in a way that did her idea justice.
“We didn’t plan for today to be a long session, but I really want to hear your thoughts,” he said to the crowd. “My goal is to listen to your ideas, but we won’t commit funds to anything during this trip. Before my team leaves town, we’ll have the big public meeting where I can share what our team learned and be sure there is nothing we missed.”
There were grumbles and whispers, but no one objected.
“We don’t have time to go over each and every issue,” he went on. “For today, I’d like to hear about potential businesses that could replace the mine. If there were no mine in Pirn anymore, what would you want to have here instead?”
The man in the fancy suit immediately signaled that he wanted to speak.
When no one else engaged, Ba’sh pointed to him.
“A town like Pirn once it has infrastructure like a hush rail, will need places for business to be transacted,” the man said. “I believe that upscale office complexes and high-end housing for the workers will be essential to turn Pirn into a modern city.”
“Where are we supposed to work when you do that?” one of the protesters called out. “You can’t close the mine.”
“We don’t need fancy office buildings,” another added.
Ba’sh strode over to the first man who had interjected.
“It sounds like you have some ideas,” he said.
“We don’t need to shut down the mine,” the man said immediately. “We’ve all got steady work. No one asked you to come here with your hush rails and your office complexes.”
The man’s fury surged into Ba’sh’s chest, in spite of the circlet. For a moment, he was almost frozen with it.