Democracy is Dead

Chapter One

Warning: skid risk. Slow down now.

The text scrolled across the lenses of Athena's glasses in bright cerise cursive, making her already precarious sprint across the frozen pavements even more treacherous. But Athena ignored the warning, just as she ignored the announcements that followed it in smaller, less obtrusive text:

Two minutes until vote announcement.

Message from Cress: Where are you?

The air in New London was icy, with a bite that hit you at the back of your throat and travelled all the way to your stomach. Athena struggled to catch her breath as she skidded across Charing Cross station, sliding at a speed incompatible with the weather conditions.

She was so, so late. While seasoned commuters trod with care, grabbing hold of walls, bollards and strangers to keep themselves on their feet, Athena wobbled and slid across the icy pavements in a desperate attempt to reach Trafalgar Square before the result was announced. She could not miss it. She'd have been on time if the tube ran anywhere close to its schedule and if her snow boots had afforded her an inch of grip. As she slipped across a main road she cursed the offending pink-and-white Christmas present with a vehemence which caused a few passers-by to stare.

But what was the point of snow boots that didn't help you to keep your footing on ice? And why couldn't a city as large and important as New London grit the pavements in the middle of January? Was it really too much to ask? Athena ought to organise a vote - or at least get Cress to. As the blinking, hot pink number in the top right corner of her glasses was always reminding her, Cress' influence level was twice Athena's.

Athena made a mental note to mention it if she arrived at the result on time. If she missed the announcement, she'd have to endure at least a week of Cress reminding her how momentous the occasion had been before she'd manage to get in a word of her own.

This was, as Cress kept reminding her, the culmination of four months of hard work - the first national vote since they'd enrolled at The New London University of Politics that autumn. Today, with the fresh January snow coating the city, the result would be announced in Trafalgar Square.

Athena pulled her rose-pink, knitted hat further over her ears, realising that the haircut she had over the holidays wasn't going to keep her neck warm in such freezing temperatures. If she was being honest, pink wasn't her colour; it did nothing for her chocolate brown hair or dove grey eyes. But it was this month's pop colour and everyone had voted on it. So the money her parents had given her for Christmas had been spent on a new pink jacket, winter essentials and a number of tops. Her mum had laughed at her when she'd tried on outfit after outfit in their small local shopping centre, but the votes were too important to ignore. If the people chose pink, Athena would wear pink. This month. Hopefully next month they would vote for green, or violet; colours Athena looked far better in.

Athena wobbled across an icy patch of path, throwing her arms out on either side and making frantic windmill motions which earned her a few amused stares. She had to pause at the next road while bicycles streamed past, their snow tyres gripping the road.

Lurid signs flashed across the wall of the building opposite, promising cheap flights to escape the snow in the Republic of Hawaii with Freedom Air, and Active Freedom gym membership to work off the holiday pounds. As Athena's attention settled on the signs extra details flashed across the screens of her glasses. A winter holiday was out of the question, so she dismissed the details by thinking 'no', but the gym membership could be useful, so she saved it for later.

The patch of road in front of her began to glow red and the teal strip across the pavement lit up, almost invisible beneath the snow. Bicycles came to a patient stop on a road that hadn't been used by cars since the vehicle restriction vote a decade ago and Athena hurried across it and turned the corner.