Neverending

32

The minute we walk outside, I notice how dark it's gotten. Donna and I both look up at the sky reflexively. Sudden changes in weather have been allocated a new department, no longer within the realms of polite conversation. The stakes being as they are, they could mean anything. I look at Donna who is either putting on an air of nonchalance or is, indeed, nonchalant. Her under-reaction versus my overreaction. The blasé parent. The over-thinking kid. It's a mildly bizarre dynamic but one that I've sort of grown into.

I'm glad she's not panicking, though.

We keep strolling towards Citivas, an unspoken agreement to head towards what seems to be the hub of everything. I'm not even sure what our collective intentions are but it feels like a good place to go. I suppose as a social sort, we human folk tend to designate areas to getting together. And areas where we want people to stay away. If there's much happening, it'll likely be there or in Mini Citi. I desperately want to see what's going on there, too, but by the sound of it, it's not somewhere I can just breeze in and start asking questions.

'How have you been, Tinder?' Donna's tone is one of sincerity, tinged with concern.

'I've been ok.' I think. 'I mean, some pretty hairy moments yesterday.'

'Oh, like what?'

I don't quite know how to articulate the unease I've been feeling. Neither can I tell if my lack of comfort is to do with not knowing what's going on or an actual gut sense of foreboding. 'Well, the weather, for one thing. That wind yesterday.'

Donna frowns. 'Didn't happen here.' She looks around then up at our glass sky. 'Tell me.'

'Just exactly that. It was super windy. Like I've never seen it.' This on its own sounds a little lame. Donna knows me, though. I can be as inexplicable as I like. She'll hear me out. 'And then there were these dogs behaving weirdly.'

She looks up as we continue to walk. I carry on.

'They were running wild. Like, in a pack. I guess how you'd imagine wolves would be. And they all sort of congregated on this hill and were just howling at the sky.' I'm close to shuddering at the memory. 'It was... unnerving.'

Donna nods.

'And then, this thing hit my car.' Donna's eyes widen slightly. 'No no, don't worry, it's ok. Nothing happened and I'm absolutely fine. But there was a massive thump on my car roof.'

Donna hesitates. 'What was it?'

'I don't know,' I admit. 'I couldn't see anything. But I wasn't hanging around to check. I was hellbent on getting here.' Like I said, it doesn't add up to much. But against the ominous backdrop of the chaos alerts, perhaps it does.

'What about you? Have you seen anything?'

Donna doesn't skip a beat. 'People panicking. Traffic jams longer than I'd wish on my worst. Cars stocked full of canned food and water. But nothing... environmental.'

We're both quiet for a minute and carry on walking in silence.

'That's it, though, isn't it? We don't know what is supposed to be going on. We don't know what sort of hazard we're facing!' I can't help but raise my voice. I'm frustrated. 'Is it a natural disaster? Are we being targeted? What?'

Since I've known her, Donna has always had the answers. I look to her now, hoping for the same.

'I don't know what to tell you, kid.' She sighs, almost imperceptibly. 'You know as much as I do. But I'm sure as hell going to find out what I can.

Citivas is just becoming visible. It's hard to tell but it seems a bit less crowded than yesterday. I wonder again about resource and the entrance policy. I know it's hard to get in here. I've heard people joke about it being pickier than Honeywell House.

'Have you heard from Juliette?'

My heart jumps at the mention of her name. The concept of her is becoming almost surreal, so long it feels like since I last saw her. She's gone from Juliette my girlfriend who I'm crazy in love with to Juliette the woman who I have no contact with. I don't want to think it but I think it anyway: I feel like I've already lost her.

'No,' I say. Donna doesn't press me.

I check my wrist. I know my wristband/butler will be background searching for Juliette but the urge to chase down details persists. It's futile: Terrafirme is a clean data community. That makes it a lot harder to find anyone historically. If she's around, I might be able to find her but there are no digital breadcrumbs to follow.

My eyes go to Donna's wrist. 'Where's your wristband?

'Oh, that. I left it at home.'

Of course Donna will not tolerate being tracked. I smirk.

'Stop it,' she says, almost laughing yourself.

'Did you pack your tinfoil hat, Donna?'

We both near collapse laughing. It feels good. The old jokes are the best.

'You're hilarious.' Donna says, deadpan, as we start to get our breath back.

'You're such a Boomer!' This gets an eye-roll out of Donna, who picks up her pace a little in mock determination not to acknowledge me. I catch her up and we chat for a while about normal things. It feels like only minutes before we reach Citivas.

As I'd thought, today is much less busy. Everything seems more spacious and there's a curious sense of calm; like we're in a giant, outdoor library.  More like how I thought it would be here.

'Wow. This place was heaving yesterday,' I cast around, noticing a lot more of the architecture and signposts, none of which I could really see yesterday. I guess the mad rush has died down, though I don't understand why there isn't an ever-increasing queue of people at the Clearing's gates.

My new modus operandi is second-guessing everything that I think. So maybe there are hoardes of people trying to get in. Terrafirme is cleverly sited at the end of canyon with a river running along the other side. There is no flanking technique that will get your anywhere near our ALON dome. It feels reassuring and elitist at the same time. I wonder briefly if this is what it must feel like to be extraordinarily wealthy or famous. Though both these things are carrying less and less gravitas as society has shifted away from material lust.

Donna is busy reading some Latin etched into the side of the stone plinth so I take the opportunity to check in with my wristband. I'm going to have to get a better name for it than 'my wristband'.

'Do you have a name?' I ask.

'I'm your wristband.'

Oh.

'Ok, umm... Have you found Juliette? Or Sebastian?'

'I have no information about Sebastian, Tinder. Juliette is -'

I jump as someone thumps my shoulder. I turn around. A huge unit of a man grins at me. Pulls me into a bear hug. 'Tinder!' he shouts.

I return the hug, squeezing as much as it's possible to with someone who is easily twice your size. 'It's good to see you, Jim.'

My debt to Jim is huge. I owe him endless thanks which I should start with right this moment.

But all I can think about is what my wristband was about to say about Juliette.