What Happened Tomorrow

Speak Up!

"The only thing we have to fear is fear itself"
— Franklin Delano Roosevelt

Gray skies had always been a fixture of September. Whether it was global warming or not, it seemed like it would always rain here. Today was no different — dark clouds, gusting winds, and that stormy chill that wasn't quite cold, but sure wasn't pleasant either. December would be much worse, but that was still months away. The older generation said the weather would turn for the worse much earlier, around Halloween. Things were different now. Those early-century crazy climate experts had been right about the rising temperatures all along — over the last few decades, it had indeed gotten warmer. Not everything they predicted came true, though. They'd said the weather here would be as warm as in Barcelona, but it never quite reached that point. In a way, that was a good thing. But what's bad for the planet didn't always feel so bad for you. Barcelona's sitting at ninety-two degrees now, nice and sunny. Here in Moscow, it's fifty-seven — not even close. Still, MSK was better than some of the smaller cities like Saratov or Belgorod. At least the air here was breathable. In places like those, going outside without a respirator on would be a bad idea to say the least.

The leaves were putting on a show of every shade of yellow, orange, and red imaginable, with a touch of green still clinging to the trees. Summer's colors had long faded, leaving behind just a few last traces, almost as an exception. The strong winds were sending this autumn palette flying, leaves scattering across the sidewalks, where they were relentlessly kicked and crushed by the feet of thousands of people. Some were headed to work, some were going home, and others seemed undecided about where they should be. Fashion had finally embraced bright colors again, so now people were wearing reds, oranges, yellows, and even purples — probably to match the season. A few years ago, a ruby-red jacket would have been an unusual outburst of color in a sea of gray, black, and white, but not anymore. Boots and sneakers had finally merged into some mix-up style, marking the end of the long-running trend toward sport-inspired looks.

Dozens of black cars sped down Leningradskoye Highway. When it came to transportation, self-expression was a thing of the past. The personal aspect of owning a car had long been gone, and the only thing colorful were the corporate logos of the car-sharing companies that owned the vehicles. Barely anyone in the city had bought their own car in the last thirty years, so why bother showing off? After manual overrides were banned decades ago, owning a personal vehicle became meaningless — who cared what the car you were riding in looked like or who owned it? Borrowing money at interest to buy an over-priced iPad on wheels? Please. But it wasn't just cars on the road. Bicycles, scooters, and monowheels whizzed by on the bike lanes at the edges of the highway, while swarms of drones flew overhead — delivery bots, air purifiers, and police scanners keeping the peace from above.

In the chaos of this technicolor life, it was easy to miss a girl in a coral coat braving the strong wind. Holding her wide black hat to keep it from flying away, she was heading for a restaurant on the first floor of an old building. The stone house was one of the few survivors of the mid-century urban re-planning efforts, standing tall like a relic of pompous Soviet monumentalism from the first half of the 20th century. She liked places like that, but she hated the wind. Especially in September. She finally reached the restaurant and opened the heavy glass door, stepping inside. The moment she did, a tiny camera above the entrance scanned her face.

Inside, she walked up to a low wooden counter and waited, but no one was there to serve her. Instead, there was just a thin sheet of glass. So thin it was almost invisible at first glance. But as soon as she looked at it, the glass transformed into a holographic image of a friendly hostess, ready to greet her.

"Hello, Irina!" the hologram greeted, flashing a smile. "I see you haven't made a reservation with us today. Are you expected?"

Well, sort of. Kind of. At least, no one had warned her about any changes to the plan. Although, they *could* have changed. It wasn't uncommon for things to shift at the last minute — meetings canceled before or even right after she arrived. But hopefully, not today. She wanted to believe that, at least. Irina glanced around, scanning the room for a familiar face among the crowd of strangers.