The thunder rumbled, the storm quickly closing in. Laura had been accepted as a new resident of Government City, and once her induction session was complete, she was taken to her studio apartment. She was assigned to a complex for women only. Advertisements in the corridors and elevators reminded residents that this was a temporary arrangement; Government City was all about family, about growing the population and workforce.

Government City felt like a dream, a technological marvel. She'd been captivated by the city's lush greenery and art installations. And the few parts of the city she'd seen were impressive. Her assigned studio was open plan with modern amenities and integrated technology, something she'd never experienced before.

Laura returned to the place she now called home after another orientation session. She closed the door and let her handbag fall to the floor. As beautiful as everything was, something about this place felt hollow and lonely.

She was about to kick off her shoes when someone knocked on the door. Her shoulders slumped; she was tired, but ignoring it felt wrong. She opened the door and saw it was Melanie, her supervisor and mentor. Aged in her early thirties, Melanie had a healthy tan, and blonde highlights framed her round face. Her wide green eyes, accentuated with eyeliner, met Laura's gaze.

"Hi," Laura greeted, feeling caught off guard.

"Sorry, is this a bad time?" Melanie asked, her tone apologetic. "Do you mind if I come in?"

Laura glanced around her still-unfamiliar apartment. "Of course." Laura stepped aside, and they settled on the lounge.

Melanie offered a reassuring smile. "It takes time to settle in, but you'll feel right at home in no time." She clasped her hands in her lap, her demeanour turning serious. "I have some news about your father."

"My father?"

"Firstly, I want to assure you he's okay. He was wounded, but he's in stable condition and on the road to recovery. For your own safety, we felt it best if you stayed here. We can organise a video call for you."

Laura gasped, her eyes widening. "Wounded how? Why am I only hearing about this now?"

Laura shot up from her seat, and Melanie gestured for her to sit back down.

"We thought it best not to tell you immediately, but it was a gunshot. You're still recovering from the trauma of the enemy attack and adjusting to a new city. We waited for confirmation that he was stable."

"Who is this 'we' you keep referring to?"

"There's a committee that makes decisions about each individual here. Your committee acted in your best interest."

Laura muttered, "This must be how Vanessa feels."

"Sorry? I didn't catch that."

"I didn't realise that choosing to come here would mean surrendering control of my life to some other authority."

"It's all in your best interest, Laura. You've been through a lot."

Feeling a tear well up, Laura blinked it back. "Do you mind giving me some space? This is a lot to take in."

Melanie nodded. "Of course. When you're ready, we can organise that call with your father. Maybe tomorrow, after the gathering."

"What gathering?"

"You'll see." Melanie stood up and gave Laura a light, unreciprocated hug. "It's a difficult adjustment, I know. But you'll see it's for the best." With that, Melanie walked to the door and turned back one last time. "I'll see you in the office tomorrow, bright and early. Then, we'll walk to the gathering as a team. If you need anything tonight, ask Anika to call me."

"I'm still getting used to this AI thing," Laura admitted.

"It's strange at first, but it will help you feel more connected to the city," Melanie assured her, waving goodbye as she disappeared down the hallway.

Laura closed the door and leaned against it, her eyes filling with tears. Her father had been a respected figure in society, and now he had been shot. Why would anyone want to hurt him?

She moved to her bed and sobbed, emptying the box of tissues beside her. After a while, she felt completely drained; her eyes were swollen, and her nose was stuffy. She stared at the wall, reflecting on Melanie's words. The concept of voice-command technology seemed absurd, but it was a part of life in Government City. She had already learned the hard way after becoming stuck in an elevator.

Leaning forward, Laura said, "Anika, call Agent 411."

A soft, artificially cheerful voice responded, "Hi Laura, I hope you're having a wonderful day. I'm sorry, but Agent 411 is not available. Is there someone else I can call for you?"

Laura sat up straight. "Call Agent 411," she repeated, enunciating each word.

"Agent 411 is not available," Anika repeated.

Frustrated, Laura stood and paced to the floor-to-ceiling windows as thunder rumbled. "Why is Agent 411 unavailable?"

"Let me look into that for you. Stand by."

Laura sank onto the carpet, her gaze drifting to the mountains. They seemed like a majestic barricade, separating her from her past life. The dark sky beyond the mountain flickered with lightning, illuminating the night before plunging it back into darkness. It struck her as oddly poetic that Mother Nature had finally caught up with her mood—tempestuous, tumultuous, and teetering on the edge of chaos.

Anika's voice broke the silence. "Agent 411 is unavailable."

Sighing in exasperation, Laura snapped, "Yes, I know you said that. But I really need to talk to her."

Thunder roared, drowning out her thoughts. "Call Lee Winters," she said, raising her voice to compete with the storm.

After a brief pause, Lee's voice came through. "Hello?"

"Sorry, I... ah, I miss you," she stammered, wiping a tear.

"How are things in Government City?"

"I need your help."

"What's going on, Laura?" he asked, concerned.

"My father... he's in the hospital," she choked out, fighting back tears.

"I'm so sorry, Laura. If there's anything I can do..."

"Do you know what happened? Was it the agents?" Her voice trembled despite her best efforts to compose herself.

"I hope he's okay, Laura. I'm not sure what the Bradfield police have found."

He was avoiding her question.

"I can't help but question the timing of it."

"Laura, Vanessa is the reason you're in Government City."

Laura was surprised to hear this, initially thinking the Agency might be involved in the shooting. She said, "I tried to call her, but this AI system indicated that she was unavailable."

"She sponsored you to go to Government City to protect you. But no one knows where she is now. It's best you forget her."

Laura sat on the edge of her bed, her hands clenched. "What do you mean, 'protect me'? From what?"

An awkward silence stretched between them, filled only by the howling wind and rumbling thunder. Finally, Lee spoke, "Laura, I'll see if I can get an update. Just remember, everything will be okay."

"I would appreciate that."

"Sorry Laura, I have to go. I'm on shift. I miss you," he said and ended the call.

Laura stared out the window, conjuring up scenarios of what could have happened. Who was after her father? Was it the same person who had gone after Jacob's family?

Anika's voice broke the silence. "Agent 411 is unavailable."

Frustrated, she shouted, "Yes, you stupid computer, you already told me that!"

"No, I think you fail to understand the type of unavailability," Anika responded. "Agent 411 has been reassigned to runaway status, enemy of the state. There is no way to locate Agent 411."

Laura's breath caught in her throat, her stomach churning with a sudden, nauseating dread. She doubled over, clutching her abdomen.

"Do you require medical assistance?" Anika asked.

"No, I don't need medical help. What happened?"

"Agent 411 is not available."

"Stop telling me that!" Laura shouted, collapsing onto the plush carpet.

Something was wrong, and Laura sensed it. She didn't particularly care for Vanessa, but if Vanessa had sponsored her, everything she had been given could be at risk. Someone was trying to target her family, and Vanessa had recognised this threat and sent her away. Now, though, Vanessa had become an enemy of the state—what did that mean for her sponsorship?

Outside, the thunder roared, shaking the ground. Laura's thoughts drifted back to what Vanessa had told her back in Windfield: "The only person capable of saving you is yourself." For whatever reason, she had made it this far, and she couldn't—wouldn't—give up now. Jacob had taught her the value of faith, and her faith in his memory was the fragile thread that kept her tethered to hope.

****

The next day, Laura arrived at her new office slightly late, confused by the various paths. Melanie had been in a rush, ushering Laura and the rest of the team out of the building for the gathering, which was where everyone else seemed to be headed.

As Laura walked, she scratched her arm, feeling confused and overwhelmed by the sea of people around her. Conversations buzzed, punctuated by occasional laughter, but even the calm atmosphere of those around her couldn't quell her growing anxiety.

Her gaze darted around, absorbing details, including the muted hues of corporate attire worn by her coworkers and the surrounding building adorned with climbing plants yearning for freedom, which framed the open space.

Walking alongside Melanie, her mentor, Laura felt a sense of déjà vu that reminded her of navigating high school hallways filled with students. Fleeting memories flashed before her eyes—the colour of her old lockers and the click-clack of her shoes on linoleum floors. The sight of men in suits triggered painful recollections of the agent who had delivered the news of Jacob's sentence.

Melanie guided Laura to the front, close to the podium. Laura glanced to either side, noticing a peculiar uniformity among the women, hair neatly tied back, all dressed in identical black pantsuits, erasing any hint of individuality.

The Head of Government stepped onto the stage, a face Laura had seen countless times in the media but never in person. In reality, he was tall—about six feet—and athletic for his age, which she assumed to be over seventy. His pale blue eyes and medium-length grey hair were combed neatly to complement his black suit.

As he began to speak, his voice carried a sense of seriousness. "It is with regret that I must inform you that we have suffered losses in this war." His gaze seemed to penetrate the crowd, locking onto Laura's. She felt exposed and singled out, her heart racing. "The enemy attacked our children as they travelled by train."

Hearing those words felt like a punch to the gut. She knew that some of her peers had not made it, but she had tried to push those thoughts away, keeping them at the back of her mind. However, when she heard the announcement and felt the reactions of those around her, all those suppressed emotions surfaced when she wished to remain unnoticed.

"Today," he continued, "I announce that one survivor joins us. We stand here in solidarity, with our hands on our hearts; we send our sympathies to the families who have experienced an unimaginable loss."

The weight of being a living testament to the enemy's brutality pressed heavily on her, making Laura feel trapped in the large crowd. She stepped back, ready to push her way out of the courtyard, but then she felt Melanie's grip on her arm. Their eyes met, and Laura pulled away. She tried to navigate through the crowd, but her escape was short-lived.

Melanie, her whisper urgent, tightened her hold on Laura. "Laura, you can't leave. We have to stay until the end," she insisted.

Suddenly, the atmosphere changed. The focus of the crowd shifted, and Laura followed their gaze. There he was—Graeme Ferguson, the Head of Government, whose portrait adorned every classroom and every hall—the man who held the reins of their lives.

Time felt like it stopped as their eyes met. "You must be Laura," he said, his voice imbued with a solemn gravity that struck a chord deep within her.

She was at a loss for words, her mouth opening but no sound escaping. How could she speak to a man who wielded the power of life and death with a mere signature?

"I am sorry for your loss," he continued.

His magnetic gaze pulled her into a shared, silent moment. Then, another figure stepped into her line of sight—a man whose face triggered a cascade of memories. This man had argued with her father and had visited Jacob's family.

As a wave of nausea swept over her, Ferguson's hand touched her cheek gently, pulling her back from the precipice of her thoughts. "I know this is a great loss for you, but the community has given you to us, and we will protect you. No one can harm you here," he assured her.

His words were comforting, almost paternal, and for a moment, she wanted to believe him.

However, the agent glared at her threateningly, shattering her brief sense of security. He leaned toward Ferguson's ear and quietly said, "I don't understand how she arrived here. There was no government intake when she moved."

Ferguson removed his hand from Laura's cheek and replied, "Agent 411 made the arrangements."

The agent was quick to counter. "Then I think we should review this arrangement. I don't think it's appropriate for a traitor to have sponsored entry into Government City, especially given what this girl is reported to have done."

"I am aware of the event in question. I have no reason to distrust 411."

The agent pressed on. "If the agent is a traitor, then we have to assume anything she's authorised is compromised."

Laura's voice was barely above a whisper. "Please don't."

Ferguson's hand returned to her arm, his grip reassuring. "Your community was attacked. Rest assured, we will protect you where we could not protect them. My decision is final," Ferguson declared.

When Ferguson returned to the podium, Laura exhaled, clutching her stomach as she struggled to suppress the queasy feeling inside her. The agent cast her a final glance before stepping away. As the public address continued, Laura couldn't focus on the words; instead, she concentrated on her breathing, her forehead slick with sweat as she fought against the nausea that threatened to make her vomit. Eventually, the address concluded, and everyone began to make their way back to their offices.

This move was supposed to signify a fresh start, but her past had followed her, and it wouldn't be long before everyone knew she was a survivor. Along with that knowledge came a sense of guilt. She was also terrified that the same man who had destroyed Jacob's family was already scheming against her. This agent had the power to unravel her life with a single word. Yet, Ferguson had stood by her — at least for now.