The drive to Polis is uneventful, except for the fact that I can’t really make out much from the scenery. It all just seems like small towns and dull green trees once we leave the outskirts of Auldhabn. Chang-dol, for his part, doesn’t seem too comfortable on the road, making both of us sit at the back of the van to ensure that he “gets a full view”. He says it like it’s the most natural thing, of course. Will sits quietly next to me, methodically fiddling with his tablet in tablet mode with the keyboard folded up.
“You doing good?” I ask. He shrugs and says nothing.
“It’ll be fine. We’ll discuss everything, work it through. It’s gonna be fine. We’ll save the world.”
He nods. “Save the world, yeah.” He doesn’t sound very convinced. We whip past another Havlandic road sign, the bilingual or trilingual conveniences of the city long behind us. Eventually I give up trying to talk to Will and just try and sleep.
I’m roused by a sudden jolt. “We’re here,” Chang-dol says. Outside I see some village houses not too different from the ones I’ve been seeing but with the addition of solar panels on the ground, people in winter-wear with heavy-duty laptops walking around, and what looks like a partially assembled radar dish setup. Further down my line of sight several fields with crops stretch out, fenced off with signs and white dome-style FEMA tents next to them. We’re clearly nowhere near the shore. A large, plain sign in front of us reads:
Π Ο Λ Ι Σ
H E K A T O N I
POLIS COMMUNAL LIVING PROJECT
No Entry Without Permission
POLIS PRIVAT-KOMMUN
Nei Foretilladelse Nei Indgang
There’s no logo or symbol of any kind, nor are there any fences or walls. Someone is, however, stalking towards us quickly with what looks like a grey titanium hiking staff. They’re wrapped in a large navy jacket, making identifying anything beyond build and height difficult, but it’s not hard to imagine them charging the car. We can hear them shouting as they draw near and shake their staff menacingly.
“NO, NEI INDGANG, NO INTERVIEWS, NEI FILMING, REAL PEOPLE LIVE HERE, GET—Oh. It’s you.” They seem almost disappointed when Chang-dol steps out and wraps them in a large hug.
“Will, Alice, come out. This is Jens. Take off your hood, man.”
Jens is far slighter of build than I initially assumed, really more tall than muscular. His face has a certain androgynous austerity, and he fidgets with a small white he/him badge on his jacket in a way that can only be described as shy. “Right. Yes. The interns from your old job. Jens Dahl Eleutheros Apolis, he/they, nice to meet you both.” The pronouns come out in a bit of a rush.
“Alice Kissenberg, she/her.”
“William Dunn, he/him.”
He shakes both our hands. His grip is firmer than it looks. “As Chang-dol might have told you, we’ve got to certify you both as eleutheros before anything else happens, but that should be purely procedural since you’ve come with a character reference—”
“Jens!” Another voice yells out from somewhere behind one of the houses. “God damn it, how many of these invites are you sending out? We’re over the Hekaton limit as is with all these American newcomers—”
“Paolo, they’re visitors. Just visitors. A week and no more.” Jens turns to Chang-dol, pleading. “Right?” Chang-dol nods.
“You’re just doing this to make me suffer because it’s my turn on the long jury and I’m fixing the grid.” The voice grows quieter, now merely annoyed rather than furious.
“That’s ridiculous Paolo and you know it. Now get Ana and Hedwig, please, I know they’re not on the rota at the moment. We want to certify them as soon as possible.”
Paolo steps out from behind the house, a short and squat person dressed in heavy-duty red engineering overalls and holding an electrician’s multitool. “More people charging their phones off the network, hooray… I’d like to see you keep this place from burning down with all these random adders-on.” He takes off one of his white gloves and waves an olive-coloured hand at us. “Come on now, let’s go and get the tribunal started.” As he does this Paolo gives a blunt, unconvincing smile.
“The Tribunal”, as it turns out, is six people (me, Will, Chang-dol, Paolo, and two others) sitting around a dinner table in Paolo’s house. One of the new additions to the group is taking minutes on a laptop, her fingers flying over the keyboard.
“Right. Let’s get this started. Polis Hekaton number one, Long Jury number four, Procedural Tribunal number sixteen, 3rd November, 2024. Long Jury is quorate for minor matters with three members present: Ana Christensen she/her, Hedwig Wilhelmsdottir she/they, and Paolo Mazzini he/him, all Doulos. Observers to the tribunal: Lee Chang-dol he/him, Eleutheros. No advisors. Parties to the tribunal: Alice Kissenberg she/her and William Dunn he/him, both Xenos. Minutes taken by me, Ana Christensen.”
Pause, deep breath.
“Question: admittance of Alice Kissenberg and William Dunn as Eleutheros Xenos, that is to say free external visitors without need for supervision, for the period of their visit to Hekaton number one. To be clear, you are not to be admitted as regular Eleutheros i.e. full members of the Hekaton. You are entitled to food, shelter, and power and internet within reason, as all visitors are, but you will not be expected to work as part of the regular rota. We will ask you some screening questions and then you can give a statement and ask any necessary questions of your own before we vote.” She finishes typing. “Although I don’t think that will be necessary in this case.” Chang-dol doesn’t say anything.
“Say that all you want, Ana, but I have questions.” Paolo leans forward and picks up a piece of paper, then starts reading from it. “Have you ever been, or are you currently, working for any intelligence agency, secret service, terrorist organisation, monopolistic corporation, or other entity hostile to the principles and existence of the Polis?”
Ana shoots him a look and the other member (presumably Hedwig) looks down, but I cut in. “No.” Will hesitates for a second as if actually thinking it through, then shakes his head mutely.
“Are you carrying, or do you plan to introduce, any weapons including but not limited to guns, explosives, poisons, drones with hostile capabilities, cyberweapons, or any similar devices or programs into the territory of the Polis?”
This time we both answer quicker. “No.”
“Do you promise to follow, to the best of your understanding and capability, the rules, regulations, and principles of the Polis during your visit?”
“Yes.”
“What is the average airspeed velocity of a laden swallow?”
Ana looks at him again. “Paolo.” He smirks, then waves it off.
“Alright, fine. Just a joke. Do you have any accessibility, dietary, allergy, or medication requirements we should know about?”
“No.”
“Finally, is there anything you wish to declare or ask before the jury votes?”
Will looks up. “Do we get a copy of the rules if we’re approved?”
Ana pats two small home-stapled booklets on the table. “Yes. You’ll need to return them before you leave though, we don’t have much access to printing. Anything else?” We fall silent.
“The Long Jury now proceeds to a vote. I call for a consensus vote.” For a moment, Paolo looks like he might challenge that, then he nods. Chang-dol leans back in his chair. For a moment, despite myself, I tense and look around the kitchen: rickety dinner table, cream-coloured cabinets, stainless steel pots and pans. He’s got a packet of cheese-and-onion crisps open on the kitchen counter. Outside the window clouds are gathering. The three jurists pause for a second, then Ana keeps going.
“Alright, no objections. All in favour?”
“Yes.” “Yes.” “...yes.”
“The question is answered in the affirmative by consensus. Welcome to the Polis.”