In an instant the room bursts into a cloud of dispersed agitation, voices breaking free from the hushed discussions of seconds ago. People take out their phones in a coordinated ripple, furious tapping ensuing as streams, news sites, and apps are pulled up one by one.
“CNN calls Republican—”
“Fox News calls Democrat—”
“PoliticsWatch calls… Libertarian? Wait this is a deepfake stream—”
“The CNN app is saying there’s a tie in the electoral college—”
“Something about a National Popular Vote Interstate Compact—”
“Guardian says results inconclusive, leaning Democrat, that multiple states have tried to retract their results—”
“What—”
“How—”
“Who—”
Paolo shakes his head as the chaos develops, sending droplets of water flying out. “It’s just as bad in the other Hekatons. Nobody knows what’s happening. I can’t even imagine the chaos in Auldhabn on mainland Europe.” Fatima is calling someone and speaking rapidly in Arabic, her face a mask of concern. There’s a crack of thunder outside, and then—
“Shit—”
“What?”
“Come on… reload…”
Fatima curses and puts down her phone. “The internet’s out. Probably a combination of the storm and the surge in activity. I’ll find Poul.” She doesn’t even bother to pick up her jacket on her way out, but someone’s already at the door. As they step in and remove their hood I realise that I haven’t seen that face anywhere in Hekaton One these last few days. Fatima, too, seems shocked.
“Jolene? How did you—”
The figure, Jolene, is almost shouting against the roar of the rain outside and the chaos inside. “It’s time to come home, Fatima. You have a job, your students, your friends waiting for you. Everything’s going to shit in America right now. We need you.” The dripping wet figure reaches out a gloved hand as Fatima flinches. What little composure she has remaining drains from her.
“I…”
In three strides Paolo throws himself between Fatima and Jolene. “You’re not an approved visitor to Polis. This is private land. Get out—” he takes a step towards her, but Jolene, half a head taller than Paolo, doesn’t budge.
“I’ve worked with her for the last five years. I don’t know who in the name of hell you are, but you can fuck right off.” There’s a hint of pride, anger, steely determination. Jolene doesn’t retract her hand.
“You are contravening the regulations of Polis as approved by the lawful government of Havland—”
“I don’t give a flying fuck about your little cult’s rules. She needs to come home. Everyone’s been worried sick about her.”
Paolo tries to say something more but Fatima puts a hand on his shoulder. “I’m not going home, Jolene.”
Jolene looks incredulous. “What? Have you not seen what’s happening?”
“That’s exactly why I’m not going back. There’s nothing waiting for me back in America. Even if we survive this, then what? Back to living on the medical cliff, waiting to be legislated out of our rights, threatened by the NSA, brutalised by police, or killed by some mass shooter? There’s no room back home for you or me, Jolene. Polis is different. It can work here.”
“This is insane. You can’t just ride out the apocalypse in some anarchist commune—”
“What other option do I have, do you have?” a pause. “I’m sure if you apply they’ll let you stay as well, they need people…”
Jolene’s face is unreadable. “I have a husband, Fatima. I have parents, siblings, relatives back home. I can’t leave everything behind like you and just run off. What about your parents? Do you not care about them? Did everyone in this room also abandon everything like you did?”
“I— I— of course I care. It’s just…”
“I expected more from you, Fatima, but it looks like I wasted my money on my tickets.”
“Jolene-” But the other woman dodges around Paolo, walks up to Fatima, hugs her, and then runs out just as Chang-dol did ten minutes ago. Jens, abashed, looks around, spots me and Will. He speaks like his heart is breaking.
“I think you two should probably go when the storm dies down—” Someone’s in the doorframe again, is it Jolene? I hear something about a fire and someone shouts about the gas generators and then the power goes and then everything becomes very confusing.