THE DRIFT

Motion is the only law Una understands.

Since walking out of the Stadium she has kept going west, across a Montreal that survives by staying still. Villages that have taught themselves to make no sound at all. A weather station still tracking storms that stopped being storms. A toll gate on the old highway where the wind is wired to report you.

They call the thing they are hiding from the Pressure. It reaches into minds, into machines, into the air, and corrects whatever drifts out of order. ...