A Town Called Dust: The Territory 1 by Justin Woolley

the people will be a shining example for future generations, Your Honor,” Knox Soilwork said.
    “I know the mood across the city is low, and probably worse among the Outsiders. The people need an inspiring victory over the ghouls,” the Administrator said, “something that reminds them of the constant danger we face but rouses them at the same time. We need to show them why it is that we, of all mankind, have survived here. They must remember what it is to be survivors.”
    “I admit the people do need reminders in vigilance, Your Honor.”
    “No Administrator has lost territory to the ghouls in hundreds of years, Knox,” the Administrator said. “I will not be the first to do so. I believe we can crush the ghouls in battle. Imagine that, Knox, being remembered for destroying a great horde as my great-grandfather did. This is a victory I want.” He turned his face to his long-time advisor. “And I do not want Colonel Hermannsburg or anyone else standing in the way of that.”

CHAPTER 10
    High Priestess Patricia stood at the central window of the cathedral looking out across Steven Square. The breeze made her long dress flick and dance around her legs as she watched the people of Alice walk across the square, dodging steamcycles and bio-trucks, going about their lives. She wondered how often their thoughts turned to God and the punishment they all faced because of the sins of their forefathers. Not often enough, she would wager, though gambling was a sin, of course.
    There was a knock on the solid wooden door of her office. She turned from the window.
    “Yes.”
    The door swung outward, creaking heavily on its hinges. This was a door that took force to move, a door that ensured privacy when the High Priestess wanted it. Clergy-General Provost stepped forward into the room, the red cloak of the Holy Order billowing out behind him with the movement of air pushed by the door. The color of the man’s cloak was in stark contrast to his complexion. His hair was white—it had been since birth—and his skin was unnaturally pale.
    “Your Holiness,” he said, dropping his head in a bow of respect.
    “Provost,” the High Priestess answered, “right on time. What news?”
    Provost, Commander of the Holy Order, was a good man, a righteous and God-fearing man. A man the High Priestess knew she could rely on. She liked the way he held himself, tall and strong, as if invisible strings of duty held him in impeccable posture.
    “The Administrator has been made aware of the breach. The ever-reliable Minister Bourke has informed us that the Administrator attempted to pass a motion that all Diggers be recalled and marched in a full-frontal attack against the ghouls. Colonel Hermannsburg voted down the motion, of course, favoring a more conservative fall-back line.”
    “Colonel Hermannsburg understands the equation of risk and reward,” said the High Priestess, “something the Administrator never manages to fathom when he sets his heart on some desire. How far will the ghouls have come?”
    “They won’t have fed so they’ll be slow and likely wandering, but assuming they’re moving steadily inward they are probably still several weeks from any towns of significance.”
    The High Priestess nodded. “What of the quarantine squads?”
    “Two squads in the slums, one near the Great Gate and one in the Western Narrows, encountered some resistance while attempting to eliminate outbreaks of Black Lung. Another was dispatched inside the East Wall. Four families of Insiders were found with the same disease. They were removed and their houses burned. It seems contained.”
    “Insiders?”
    The clergy-general nodded. The High Priestess turned back to the window.
    “The impurity of the slums continues to jump the wall,” she said. “The Territory is overcrowded with the unholy, Provost. These diseases are as much a sign of the wrath of God as the ghouls themselves.”
    “Indeed, Your Holiness.”
    “The Administrator