Vik Layden stepped into the dark chamber. This time, she did not turn on the lamps, did not check the corners. Guided by the faint city lights from the window, she sank into a chair.

  The meeting with the Presidential Cabinet had taken over two hours. Two damn hours of squabbles and bureaucracy. Just another reminder why she preferred her way. The VUC way.

  Thankfully, the real work had started way before the meeting. As soon as the storm was confirmed a few hours ago, the emergency personnel and essential factory workers had jumped into action. But everything was hidden under the cover of the night, so as not to stir panic.

  Now, it was the turn for everyone else to learn the truth.

  She turned on the light. On the table were a headset and a microphone.

  From her pocket, she pulled out a script. She had read it at least a hundred times and debated it with the cabinet for another twenty — that was twenty times too many. Every word had been scrutinized, weighed, and polished by the entire cabinet.

  She slid on the headset. After a deep breath, she pressed the red button on the table.

  From every corner in the Capital at once — inside this building, outside the windows, in the streets, behind the alleys — a three-tone siren broke out.

  “Attention residents of Valeria: One week ago, a storm cluster in Thiab destroyed the Northern Stabilizer. Despite the best efforts of our Stormrunners, atmospheric conditions in the Northern Quadrant have rapidly deteriorated.”

  “As a result, a level 7 storm has formed outside the Capital, and it is projected to strike in three hours. I repeat, a level 7 storm is hitting the Capital in three hours. Please remain calm and stay indoors. In the Capital, your home is your safest shelter.

  “The Stormrunner Corps has already been deployed. The Republic’s most elite Stormrunners are en route to neutralize the storms. Please stay tuned for further updates.”

  Vik Layden followed the script carefully crafted by the Presidential Cabinet. Perfectly objective semantics. Passive voice to mask the accountability. Blame everything on the storms, never on human failure.

  Vik sighed, flipping to the next page.

  She hit another button. This time, nothing sounded in the Capital, but every other city in Valeria would be hearing this alarm.

  She repeated her earlier statement. Northern Stabilizer was destroyed. Storms were striking the Capital. But this time, she urged all Fraxian residents to donate their cells at XetaGen facilities. She reiterated that the more they contributed, the safer the entire nation would be, and the more they would be rewarded. Finally, honoring her promise to Theo Xeta, she briefly covered the health consequences of excessive donation. She had to debate five separate cabinet members to get this part inserted.

  Good, two out of three assignments done.

  By now, the VUC propaganda officer should be hanging up donation posters nationwide. Perhaps the donation plan could actually work out, despite all its inefficiencies compared to her alternative.

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  Perhaps Theo Xeta was right to object to her plan. Perhaps those rhetorics about Fraxian livelihoods and optics and criminal justice had reason. It wasn’t that she despised the Fraxians. Quite the opposite, she believed that making any presumptions about people based on their eye color was utterly stupid. However, efficiency and utility mattered more than stupidity. If Valeria could maintain peace and order with the current system, then so be it. If uplifting Fraxians could give them an edge over the storms, then she would not hesitate either.

  She would not pretend to understand this world through orange eyes, so when it came to questions regarding Fraxians, she gave Theo more credence. Besides, as naive and obnoxious as that man could be, she did owe him a lot.

  She took a deep breath and pressed the third button. This time, the announcement would only reach a few cities in the frontier provinces.

  “Attention, residents of Fael, Byth, New Terminal, Valtoragrad, Drysea, and Old Port, this is an emergency announcement for evacuation. I repeat, this is an announcement for evacuation.”

  Unlike the Capital’s lockdown policy, the outer provinces had to evacuate inward to avoid the storms. She had debated furiously with the cabinet on whether or not to reveal the true reason behind the evacuation. She considered it an unnecessary risk for instability, but they voted her out.

  “The Western, Southern, and Eastern stabilizers are undergoing recalibration to target the Capital’s storms. The coverage zone will shift away from the cities on the frontier. For your safety, please evacuate immediately under the direction of your local Troopers.”

  Vik Layden removed her headset and stared out the window. No other storms had been reported yet, not anywhere near the West, East, or South. But it was safer to have them evacuated, just in case Thiab were to happen again.

  Sure, a small group of people would object. People like that had always existed. However, they would find that the police and the Troopers were already stationed there to maintain order. For the few that were to slip through the cracks, Vik had arranged VUC agents for them.

  The tantrum of a few must not jeopardize the safety of millions.

  She stared through the window at the Capital. At the moment, the city looked serene. However, she knew the crowd was still digesting it all. Despite the lockdown orders and the martial laws, she was not sure if the capital police could handle it all.

  The Capital had not faced a single storm in over a decade. Most officers had no experience with anything like this. The force itself was also drastically understaffed.

  Locking down major streets was necessary, but that took patrols away from the back alleys. As for the curfew, there was no realistic way to monitor all two million residents. Once a few crimes broke out, the patrols would be stretched thin, and other criminals would seize their chance.

  The criminals knew this, too. Of course, gangs and syndicates would blend into the chaos, blaming any death and destruction on the winds. But Vik was more worried about the ones driven by fear, the ones who saw no future even before the storms had arrived. They were the young men staring at the cartloads of leftover food dumped out of shops that they could not afford. They were the parents passing by the tents and blankets on the streets, knowing that their family was only one paycheck away from the same fate. Sure, the fear wore many faces. Anger. Desperation. But it was still fear.

  What would happen to them? When boulders demolished their houses, when mobs burned down their automobiles. It wouldn’t even take personal loss. What if their workplaces were destroyed, and they immediately lost their job and their next paycheck? Some would plunder from others for survival. Others would burn things down out of anger. Violence would be committed, sometimes preemptively.

  And if the storms get through the walls, if the crowd realized their homes were not safe but the rich mansions might be, then the fallout would be unimaginable.

  Vik sighed. She had made all the preparations she could. As for the rest… She refused to believe in fate. So she decided it was up to sheer probability.

  Before leaving, she took one last look back.

  The storms. The crowds. Two drastically different beasts, but beasts nonetheless. Repeating the same words she’d sworn when she took office, she vowed to defend her beloved city from both.