Hans's colony ushered in progression as days passed.
Residents walked the streets with more confidence. The night no longer felt dangerous.
The decisive action to weed out a few bad elements had earned him praise.
But security was one thing.
Demands would grow over time; both in scale and complexity.
Water shortages sparked murmurs in the markets and near the outer trading stalls.
A few proposed to pump from the nearby river. Some were stopped by the patrolling soldiers—others discouraged by their fellow neighbors.
Progress bred expectations; expectations bred pressure.
Hans watched from a secluded balcony. He scanned the expression of every resident passing on the street below.
"Has Tyrus checked the water quality in the river?"
Behind Hans was Alexei. He grabbed a piece of paper and read the contents.
"We have consulted Dr. Tyrus, Commander. The water has negligible trace of the virus."
"Meaning?" Hans pressed.
