The acrid odor of smoke still lingered over the ruins of the Danford camp, a grim cologne over the ambient stench of disease and terror. Reuben and his HON crew moved through the exhausted citizenry like ghosts, their task now one of brutal consolidation—quarantining the cholera, tending to the wounded of the riots, and distributing the sparse food supplies they'd been able to scrounge up. The Societal Stability Index languished at a perilous 15%, a patient on life support.
It was into this landscape of despair that Howard Crane came, not with fear, but with salvation.
A convoy of immaculate white trucks, emblazoned with the sleek, double-helix logo of Crane Biotech, rode through the broken gates. A media caravan trailed behind them, cameras popping, capturing the perfect PR moment. Cran
