Ic: Ambages was seated in a chair proportionate to where he usually was in the Gentry's meeting place, towards the front, giving him a perfect view of the elders and director, who of course were only half their number. Curious, he thought to himself. Thoughts buzzed in and out of his mind as he processed information. Did Niici balk after my warning? Did she take the third elder to consult with him? He shook his head slightly to escape the din in his brain. No. Niici doesn't have the information or the need to be so suspicious so early, and while she may have held reason enough to learn more, she wouldn't have chosen to do so at that particular moment. Not during an important meeting.
Koropaki's words stirred Ambages back to reality. "... responsible for the rebuilding of Pala-Koro. It is a decision that, up until the concert, was kept solely with the top-most executive board members, namely: myself, Gaira, our Ko-Matoran friend, and Toa Niici."
Pala-Koro. He laughed to himself. One moment they destroy that village, the next they rebuild it. Destroy something by proxy, cast blame elsewhere, pretend to be saviours and remake what was lost in your own image. It was a loop of fate that Ambages knew very well himself; after all, wasn't that exactly what they were doing to Mata Nui as a whole, bit by bit?
He nonchalantly looked at the dial on his wrist: The Kumu Islets sank two hours before when the Windriders were presented. What dramatic irony it was that hundreds of innocent and hopeful people perished with no hope for survival while their privileged fellows on the mainland partied it up to joyful noise. By morning, the band on ship number three would be landing and preparing to attack Le-Koro by the next evening. The other two arks would be nearing their destination on the Ko-Wahi coast, awaiting his presence. Timeliness was precise in Ambages' profession, and intricacies had to be as sharp as they were plentiful.
He redirected his sight and attention to the elders at the front of the room. “If anyone here has questions concerning this new adoption program, this is the forum to voice them," Koropaki said. "We need everyone here on the same level, so they we can each act independently in other villages.”
The usual outspoken member of the group was Alyo. "I, of course, mean no disrespect to you, elders. But I feel I am unsure how exactly this organization works. Exactly how many decisions are made by the elite few? How much input do I, or Matan, or Tuuli, or any 'normal' member of the gentry, have? Do we just push around paperwork? This rebuilding was an expensive decision, one which I, and assume the rest of us, had no knowledge of prior to the announcement. So... ... Is there anything important about the function of your elite class that I - and the rest of us - need to know?"
Ambages was tempted to say something to Alyo: You're the public relations manager. You take what the elders say and soften the public's reaction to it, dress it up and answer questions about it. That's it. But he wisely kept his thoughts to himself as he thought of something else he could do. While that was not the time or place to do it, there was a potential ally in Alyo, especially while he spoke so quickly in meetings. Alyo was new to the politics of the Gentry. He could be used.
The architect said nothing and pretended to wait for the elder's reply. His true intents were not as patient, though. In truth, he looked at those people sitting at the front of the room and thought of a scheme: Which one of those old ones would be felled by his delicate machinations? Who would he unseat?
He imagined himself sitting in the vacant seat next to the other two. In time, he assured himself. In time.