The public spike was immediate.
A minor misalignment in the triage schedule had been noticed and amplified on social media. Headlines questioned the Medical Authority System, asking why decisions seemed opaque and why the external interference had almost succeeded. Panic wasn't the goal, but curiosity had a momentum all its own.
Lin Chen opened the live monitoring interface. Metrics scrolled like waterfalls: patient vitals, supply chains, staff deployment, attempted external commands, engagement graphs. He felt the weight of every number pressing on him.
Dr. Hart leaned over. "You have to act fast. The public narrative will demand visible resolution, and any delay will be interpreted as incompetence."
"Yes," Lin Chen said. "But visibility without precision is worse than invisibility."
The Observer pinged. "Moral vector engaged. Public scrutiny high. Make your move."
Lin Chen glanced at the patients flagged by the scarcity module. ICU beds limited, some patients had minor but urgent conditions, and others required ongoing treatment with narrow safety margins. Every decision had a real-time consequence.
He knew that if he followed the public narrative, he would appear responsive but risk misallocating resources. If he followed the system strictly, some minor patients might experience delays, sparking outrage.
Minutes passed. His fingers hovered over the interface. He began issuing commands—but differently this time. Instead of responding to each public complaint, he prioritized according to system data, then opened a real-time dashboard for public viewing. The interface displayed each decision, why it was made, and the alternatives considered. No explanations. No judgment. Just facts.
The effect was immediate. Speculative threads quieted. Analysts began debating the methodology, not the individual. Hashtags shifted: #DataTransparency, #DecisionScience, #SystemIntegrity. Public anger didn't vanish, but it focused on analysis rather than blame.
Then came the toughest call. Two critical patients, one ICU bed, and both lives at risk. One had a high survival probability but minor immediate symptoms. The other was older, fragile, but family members insisted on priority.
Lin Chen weighed the data. Probabilities, error margins, secondary risks. Then he activated a secondary protocol: Palliative Support Upgrade for the older patient, ensuring dignity and monitoring, while allocating the ICU bed to the patient with the higher survival probability.
Dr. Hart watched silently. "The public won't understand this."
"They might," Lin Chen said. "If they can see every step, every hesitation, every rationale. Transparency is the only bridge between morality and efficiency."
As the city clock struck midnight, engagement stabilized. Logs recorded decisions, responses, interventions, and consequences. Every variable tracked, every choice justified, every moral vector accounted for.
Lin Chen leaned back. Exhaustion gnawed at him, but there was a sense of quiet triumph. He had navigated the first wave of public scrutiny while keeping both system integrity and patient outcomes intact.
The Observer pinged again: "Public variable stabilized. Ethical vector preserved. Continue."
Lin Chen allowed himself a brief exhale. This wasn't over. The world would continue to test him, but for the first time, he had proven one thing:
Transparency could coexist with decisive action, even under pressure.
End of Chapter 99