"Of course, it’s true."
The crowd erupted in an uproar.
No one had expected him to admit it so readily.
Leo’s voice suddenly rose, silencing the crowd’s commotion.
"But, brothers, have you ever taken even a single second to quiet down and ask yourselves..."
"Why are you afraid of robots?"
It sounded like a foolish question.
Reynolds froze for a mont, then laughed in fury.
"Why? Because those hunks of tal don’t need to eat! They don’t need to sleep! They don’t need to support a family! They work faster and cheaper than we do! Do you even have to ask?"
"No."
Leo shook his head, his tone becoming exceptionally sharp.
"You’re wrong."
"You’re not afraid because robots work faster than you."
"You’re afraid because in this city, the mont robots take your jobs, you lose everything."
Leo extended a finger, jabbing it at the empty air.
"You won’t have the money to pay next month’s rent, and your landlord will throw you out onto the street."
"You won’t have the money to buy dicine for your sick wife, and the hospital will turn you away at the door."
"Your children won’t be able to afford tuition and will be left to wander the streets."
"You’ll lose your salary, and with it, your dignity as human beings—even your right to survive."
"That is the true root of your fear!"
Leo’s voice was like a heavy hamr, striking the heart of every person present with each word.
"Let’s be honest, brothers."
"Do you really love hauling those heavy containers? Do you really love the back-breaking labor that leaves you sore all over and could cost you a limb if you’re not careful?"
"No, you don’t."
"If, right this second, soone told you that you could receive the sa salary without working, would you care if it was a person or a machine doing the job? You wouldn’t care at all."
"So, stop lying to yourselves."
"You’re not afraid of the hunk of tal that can move containers."
"You’re afraid that when that hunk of tal arrives, you won’t have a single safety net to catch you!"
"You’re afraid of the precipitous drop in your standard of living after losing that weekly paycheck."
"You’re afraid that in this city, without a job, you can’t pay rent, can’t buy food, can’t afford to see a doctor."
The square grew a little quieter.
The workers looked at each other, nonplussed.
Leo had voiced their deepest fear, the one that tornted them in their nightmares every night.
In this Rust Belt city, devoid of any social security system, unemploynt ant death.
Leo looked at the silent faces and knew the ti was right.
He was about to initiate the most crucial logical substitution.
This was a debate about the logic of survival, and a war over priorities.
"Now, let’s go back to that newspaper."
Leo’s expression beca one of profound anguish.
"Everyone knows that’s Morganfield’s newspaper. Why would a shrewd businessman, before the project has even broken ground, so aggressively publicize his intent to fire workers? Why would he deliberately provoke you?"
"Why, just as I was about to launch the community revival plan—to build you houses, schools, and start a workers’ cooperative—would he suddenly force the city governnt to pour all its money into that bottomless pit at the port?"
"Because he’s smart."
"Because he understands, far better than you, the difference between taking the initiative and being left on the defensive."
Leo paced back and forth on the steps, his every movent capturing the crowd’s gaze.
"He knows that as soon as work on the port project begins, it will beco a black hole, devouring funds."
"A budget of several hundred million US dollars will instantly lock up Pittsburgh’s entire fiscal budget for the next five years."
"And what does that an?"
Leo stopped pacing, his gaze burning as he stared at Reynolds.
"It ans we won’t have a single cent to build you affordable housing!"
"It ans we won’t have a single cent to establish community health centers!"
"It ans we won’t have a single cent to build the public daycares that could help you look after your children!"
"It ans that the cooperative I promised you, where the workers themselves are the bosses, will be nothing more than a worthless piece of paper!"
Leo’s voice was filled with rage, a rage that seed even more intense than that of the workers below him.
"What is he trying to do? He wants to throw you all into that automated gladiatorial arena without any social safety net, without any way to retreat!"
"He wants you to have no safety net to catch you when you’re replaced by machines, when you lose your jobs!"
"He wants you running naked in the cold wind, watching as you kill each other over a scrap of bread, so he can hire you back at the lowest possible wages!"
"The mont I sign that paper, he gets what he wants. The funds will be locked, the revival plan will be dead in the water, and your shield will be utterly shattered."
"Then, when the great wave of automation truly hits, you’ll have nothing left, and you’ll be completely at his rcy!"
"That is his sche!"
The clamor in the square died down, as if throttled by a giant, unseen hand.
But this change wasn’t because several hundred workers had all suddenly beco philosophers.
A crowd is blind; they only watch the lead wolf’s movents.
Because Rayloz, standing at the very front, was stunned.
His hand, clenched into a fist, was frozen in mid-air. On his flushed face, the previous rage began to crack.
He was thinking.
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