"How are situations where the laws contradict resolved in practice?"

"I think the Steward stepped in over the heatpipe watch thing."

"Yes, the Steward will decide if it becomes a problem."

"Does the Steward serve for life? Who succeeds him?"

"Her. Aurelia Mathers. I don't actually know the formalities but it's unlikely she will exit power soon. Maybe she'll designate a successor like Captain Winchester did. We all have more urgent things to worry about, anyway. You asked about the resource situation."

There are unhappy faces around the table.

"Yes, I apologize for the tangent."

"New London has twelve weeks of fuel remaining. Twenty six if you count identified coal seams that are not quite fully mined out. After that, we freeze."

"What's the plan for cutting back on fuel usage, finding more...?"

"Cutbacks are already in place in many areas, with a lot of clever compromises, but the demand for steam only grows, to fuel the hothouses, to fuel industry- To build the structures that will build the future, to provide people with clothes and tools, to heat homes. I don't know the full plan, but the Steward assures us she has one. Everyone is aware that the situation is untenable, if not the precise date of doom."

"And you're still - incorporating territory you didn't administer yesterday? Taking immigrants? Do either of those things help?"

"I don't know. At the end of the day, we're just cogs in the machine."

"I know the factory districts have thousands of workers each, and it's only recently that we could build the prison- Some of those prefabricated panels were likely manufactured yesterday and we'll need many more to build mines if we find more coal. I know that the Steward hasn't let us down so far. I assume the massive recruitment for the scout teams is part of the plan. If it's not... Then all we can do is our jobs."

"How much fuel does New London use in a week?"

"We're getting well away from our areas of expertise. On an order of magnitude... Perhaps a thousand tons of coal a week is the right scale?"

"I think all this is... more or less what we came here to learn. I hope we can get back where we came from soon to report on our findings."

"At some point all we can do is carry on and hope it all fits together in the end. As for your other questions, it's nothing that couldn't be learned from listening to gossip for a while so I'd consider this simple lunch conversation. No privileged information."

"As for your group, all we can do is suggest it goes to the top of the metaphorical pile, and I intend to so suggest."

"Thank you. When should I expect to be able to learn if that sufficed?"

"It might be as early as late this evening, and if there's no change by end of day tomorrow it did not."

"Thank you."

He has nothing else to do in the town but also nothing else to do in the snow shelter. He goes for a bit of a walk, waiting.

It does seem to be a really tidy conquest. The preacher is still preaching (about the inherent equality of all humanity now, some are greater or lesser in need or skill but all are part of the community of the world and deserve to be saved etc etc)- Someone's selling booze- There's a sign for 'job skills consultation'- Most of the rest of the buildings are being torn down, with residents moved into nicer ones- There's construction going on up at the mountainside vault- Someone is locked half-naked in stocks in the cold, labelled 'Rapist'- He recognizes the gang that let him pass during the chaos, now in a construction crew- Ah, someone has set up the oldest profession in there, going by the sign advertising cleanliness and passed medical checks-

He'd Endure Elements the alleged rapist but it would be so conspicuous. Is he frostbitten yet? Is he conscious?

He is conscious and glaring at everyone who approaches. Does not appear to be frostbitten yet.

"Are you expected to survive this?" Blai asks him softly.

"Probably. Can't work a corpse."

Lastwall has the death penalty, for rape, but they insist that executions be swift and as painless as it is reasonably possible to make them. This is not a death penalty but it is also not swift and painless. Lastwall has flogging on the books for a lot of other things. Blai doesn't especially know this to be worse than flogging; it could be that the handbook doesn't have cold exposure as a listed punishment solely because the weather is different at different times of year and on different days and at different forts, and it couldn't be made consistent.

He bows his head for a moment in prayer and then moves on.

When he passes the stocks again later, the man is gone. Around the edges of the settlement, a good number of those who fled yesterday appear to be plodding their way back. He witnesses an argument over the price of a potato, and when it gets a little shove-y, the steel golem at the corner shines a yellow light and releases a loud 'HONK HONK'. This breaks up the argument very quickly.

Not much else happens.

How's the greenhouse-sort-of-building that was on fire yesterday faring?