Neverending

22

Of course, the first thing I did was try to call everyone as soon as I got past Terrafirme's security. But Terrafirme has its own comms system – which makes sense, given that its whole vibe is self-sufficiency. So – my phone doesn't work. At least not yet. It's been scanned and is in a (worryingly long) queue for clearance. I was told to expect it to take anywhere up to 24 hours for a signal to kick in. 

24 hours sounds like a very long time when you're alone.

I am, of course, going crazy at the thought that Juliette might be trying to call me - though why I think she's now trying to call me the minute my number is no longer available, after hours of radio silence, defies logic. But so does love, I guess, and in so many inconvenient ways. So I'm adding that to the basket of worries I'm currently clutching as I try to work out what to do next.

I'm sure Terrafirme is usually the picture of organised tranquillity but as I've mentioned, that's certainly not the case today. It's to be expected, as one of the only designated safe spaces this side of the planet. That knowledge doesn't do much to calm my increasing sense of frustration as I wander around Civitas, the sort-of town square. All I've been told is: wait till your tag activates.

I glance down at my left wrist at the clear band riding just above my watch. It hasn't changed colour since I slid it onto my wrist forty minutes ago but checking it has become almost as habitual as checking my phone for calls from Juliette. When the tag activates, it should become an opaque white and haptics will alert me to its wakening. Once activated, I'll be able to find my allocated accommodation and – I very much hope – my friends.

'Jesus!' An albino woman bangs her shoulder hard against mine in a desperate hurry. I watch her as she power-walks through the crowd, her slight build defying the bashing she just gave me. I'm still rubbing my upper arm when my phone starts ringing. I jump in surprise.

'Tinder?' Seb's voice is calm but I can hear the worry.

'Seb! God, you're ok!'

'I am. We are. Damn, it's good to hear your voice.' I can hear Suze asking Seb something that sounds urgent in tone but the words escape me. 'Tinder - where are you?'

I look around at the chaos. 'Emm... Citivas?'

I hear Seb repeat this to someone.

'Ok, good. You're in. What have they told you?'

I think. 'Not much. To hang about here until my... wristband activates, or whatever.'

'Right. Then it'll direct you to your dwelling.'

Although I've already been told as much, it feels reassuring to hear Seb say the same thing. I realise I've been feeling like a passenger who's skipped their train fare – nervously stalking the carriage corridors, knowing they don't really have the right to be there.

Seb's words start to give my presence here a little more weight. It's inexplicable – as far as I know, Jim's the only person wielding any sort of influence around here and even then, he's still quite far from the crisp line of top level Zeros.

Still, I feel somewhat validated.  

'Hey, listen. Thanks so much for getting me in here. And Jim, of course.'

Seb gives a brief laugh, 'Was never coming here without you, dude.' The momentary levity disappears as quickly as it surfaced. It's hard to tell through the phone, but Seb just doesn't sound like, well... Seb.

'Seb - are you ok?' I hold my breath, feeling anxietry creep through my veins, with no idea why.

A pause. 'Sure. I'm just really glad you're ok.'

I hear Suze again, her voice urgent.

'Listen, I know you've just arrived, and I know how disorientating this place can be, especially with how things are right now - but stay frosty, Tinder.' I can hear Seb climbing some stairs and his next sentence sounds a little muffled. 'I have to go. I'm sorry, but something's come up. Follow your tag and I'll see you really soon. Ok?'

'I -'

I'm cut off by three short tapping sounds.

Seb's hung up on me.