Capitol Meteorology: The Cumulonimbus Experience

“Capitol Meteorology: The Cumulonimbus Experience” by Elizabeth Fenley

It was raining in the Science Quadrant. It never rained in the Science Quadrant. It was only supposed to rain in the Agricultural Quadrant.

Looking out the window of the breakroom, Dr. Felicia Hughes shook her head in confusion—then immediately reached up to ensure she hadn’t loosened the braided bun she pulled her long, brown, wavy hair tightly into when she worked in the lab. She peered through the thick sheet of heavy rain under grey skies. She couldn’t see if it was raining across the main street of The Capitol where the Agricultural Quadrant was located.

She withdrew her comm from the pocket of her lab coat and called her mother—one of her mothers.

“Dr. Hughes-Myers.”

“Hi, Penelope.” She, her older brother, and younger sister were raised to address their mothers by their names instead of the title assigned by outdated gender norms. When Penelope and Daphne married, they added the other’s last name to their own; Daphne was Dr. Myers-Hughes. With the children, they alternated Myers and Hughes by birth order.

“Hello, Felicia. Is everything all right?”

“Actually, something rather odd is happening. It’s raining.”

“Felicia,” she began jokingly, “I thought we talked about this when you were little. To grow, all plants need---”

“Very funny. I’m not talking about crops. It’s raining in the Science Quadrant. Is it raining in the Medical Quadrant?”

“Just a moment.”

Felicia heard the soft footfalls of her mother’s rubber-soled shoes on the polished stone floor.

“That is odd indeed.”

“Can you to see if it is raining it the Technology Quadrant?”

“Not from here. The clouds are moving quickly. I see cumulonimbus clouds in the northwest.”

“A thunderstorm? Why would that be a part of The Capitol’s Weather Programming? What purpose could that serve?”

“Yes. It is not. And none,” replied Penelope, answering her daughter’s questions concisely in order.

“I’ll call Andreous in Technology.” Science and Medical personnel were the highest caste within The Capitol’s social and occupational system. While they were encouraged to cultivate professional and social relationships to optimize collaborative efficiency, their only allowed contact with those in the Technology Quadrant was professional. “I don’t suppose you have a contact in Agriculture.” Agricultural citizens were only permitted contact within their Quadrant.

“Felicia Singleton Hughes, are you asking me if I have illegal contact in that Quadrant?” Her voice was full of feigned shock. “Do I seem like the kind of person who would have friends in low places?”

“Yes, you are exactly that kind of person,” Felicia replied, grinning.

“You bet your ass I do.” Penelope chuckled. “I will go right back to work now without contacting anyone about anything. Those bio-mechanical prostheses are not going to generate human tissue on their own.”

“And I will get right back to my electron microscope to manipulate some mitochondrial DNA just to make sure no one accidentally ends up being born left-handed or with a cowlick or any such cataclysmic disaster.”

“It’s a good thing we have a secure line so that we can discuss these illegal things we are both not about to do.”

“Who do you think got Andreous to do that for us?”

“I am sure I have no idea, Dr. Hughes.”

“Likewise, Dr. Hughes-Myers.”

Felicia disconnected and called Andreous.

That night, Felicia went from her lab to Penelope and Daphne’s house in the Medical Quadrant. Like the Science Quadrant, the homes were spacious bordering on luxurious compared to the other castes. Combined, her mothers held three medical degrees and four Ph.Ds. Their house was twice the size of Felicia’s, with only her single MD and mere two Ph.Ds.

She was greeted by the mechanical barking of Sappho, her mothers’ dog. Since live domesticated animals were no longer permitted, the Technologists invented robotic pets with realistic traits. Placing her eye against the retina scanner, Felicia’s identity was confirmed as an appropriate “Key Holder.” The door opened. Sappho, a black mastiff, sat and raised one huge paw.

“Sappho, get up here,” Felicia insisted. Sappho rose on her hind legs, placed her paws on Felicia’s shoulders and licked her face with a well-replicated wet, pink tongue. She laughed, as she always had when Odin and Zeus had during her childhood—before living pets were banned. Felicia had input this into their interpersonal interactions sub-routine. “Who’s a good robot dog? Who’s a good girl?” Felicia asked in the voice she reserved for Sappho and her own robodogs, Hal and Mito—both large Doberman/Rottweiler mixes.

“Hola, Felise,” Daphne called from the living room.

“Hola, tanto tiempo sin verte.” Sappho leapt down and ran in to where Penelope and Daphne sat on a plush couch. Sappho jumped up beside Daphne and put her large head on Daphne’s lap.

“Traitor,” Penelope accused Sappho, giving her the stink eye. Sappho returned the robodog version on the stink eye Penelope had programmed.

Felicia sat heavily in the armchair across the coffee table from them. Penelope’s Norwegian ancestry was obvious in her fair skin, marble blue eyes, and straight blonde hair cut in a fashionable stacked bob, and was a perfect complement to Daphne’s Puerto Rican brown eyes and waves of shining black tresses falling casually in every direction. Daphne gave birth, after in vitro, to Orion and Felicia. Phoebe was Penelope’s turn; she wanted to carry another child but was unable to conceive again.

Felicia grabbed the drink her mothers’ set out. “Well?”

“It’s raining everywhere—for miles outside The Walls in every direction. The thunderstorms will blow through from the northwest in 72 minutes and will cover the entire Capitol within 34.5 minutes.” Penelope took a long swallow from her glass.

“Why am I not surprised you have such precise intel?”

“Technology and Meteorology are baffled. As you can imagine, Capitol Headquarters is a very stressful place to be,” Daphne added.

“Agriculture is scrambling, but some of the crops will be destroyed.”

The three sat silently until Sappho raised her head, cocked her ears and made an inquisitive sound, initiated in her programming by the silence.

“You said it, Sappho,” Daphne replied, rubbing the dog’s head and scratching her ears as a thick tail thumped back and forth on the couch.

Felicia smiled at them. “How long do they predict the storm will remain?”

“Indefinitely,” Penelope replied grimly.

Felicia choked on her drink. “What? How is that possible?”

“You can bet you're not the only person asking that question tonight,” Daphne replied.

With 12 minutes before the thunderstorm was due to hit the Medical Quadrant, Penelope insisted Felicia get home.

“Dios mio, mi querida cario,” Daphne muttered in feigned exasperation, rolling her eyes exaggeratedly at her wife.

Penelope laughed and gave her a quick kiss as she rose to walk Felicia to the door. Sappho jumped up to follow them.

“Hasta luego, mija, te amo,” she called out after Felicia.

“Buenos noches, mi Madre Numero Uno, te amo.”

Penelope smiled briefly at the running joke of who got called #1 Mom when she sided with one of the children. Her smile faded as she grasped Felicia’s hands. “Be careful. Best not to speak of this to anyone.”

“Agreed. Same for you, Dr. Hughes-Myers.”

“Thank you for you sage advice, Dr. Hughes.”

Walking home in the rain was a scientifically and sensorially fascinating experience. Felicia lingered, eyes to the northwest where she could see the fast-approaching cumulonimbus clouds. When the wind forced the rain sideways, she turned for home, a hot shower, and soft pajamas.

She sat on the couch with a bowl of soup, Hal on one side and Mito on the other, curled up comfortably—almost like the memory she held onto of how Zeus and Odin had felt beside her. Seeing the red light on her holo-vid transmitter, Felicia sighed. All citizens of The Capitol were required to watch every holo-vid sent.

“All right, guys, ready to be bored?” she asked the dogs. Hal cocked his head and wagged his tail. Mito raised a single eyebrow and made a flubbery chuffing sound quivering through his jowls, which always made Felicia laugh.

“Play vid.” The Minister of Science appeared.

“Citizens of the Science Quadrant, be assured our meteorologists are working diligently and expeditiously to resolve the unexpected variation in atmospheric conditions within The Capitol today. A solution is imminent.”

“Which means no one has a clue what to do, and you’re stalling to postpone the inevitable panic,” Felicia told the hologram whose name she knew she should remember.

“In the interim, for the safety of our esteemed, valuable Science Quadrant citizens, we are imposing an Order of Shelter in Place until otherwise notified. Shelter in Place will begin in…” The system paused to calculate the time of viewing and the time of enforcement, “thirty-two minutes. Anyone failing to comply, will be transported to a safe location—”

“Arrested and thrown in dark hole,” she interjected.

“Until the threat to our Science Quadrant is negated. Exceptions will be made only if your supervisor contacts you directly and sends safe transport for you to assist in our current solution development. Requests will be uploaded to the Central Capitol Headquarters Database to avoid confusion and any unpleasantries.”

“So don’t pretend you got called in, or we’ll arrest you.”

“We are confident in our highly skilled, talented science teams….”

Felicia let the rest of the message play, as was required, but tuned out the minister’s droning. The Medical Quadrant would be placed on emergency medical staff rotations. The Technology Quadrant had probably already been picked over and commandeered to work on the problem—no “the solution.” The entire Agricultural Quadrant was likely ordered out in the storm to protect the crops at all costs, as the crops were more valuable than the people who would inevitably die covering up carrots and tomatoes. Felicia put down her soup, disgust sapping her appetite.

“You heard the man, guys, we’re staying home.” Hal put his head on Felicia’s leg, and she thoughtfully rubbed his ears and scratched his back all the way to the base of his tail, which make his back leg twitch in pleasure; Felicia enjoyed this part of his sub-routine, making him seem almost biological. Mito snored softly.

An hour later, as the storm pummeled the Science Quadrant—a sound Felicia had never heard from her home—the power flickered out. Felicia waited as the back-up generators kicked in, then sputtered out almost immediately. The emergency generators did the same thing.

The only light remaining in her house was The Capitol Tablet, issued to Science and Medical Quadrant Citizens, she was using to read a research paper on mitochondrial DNA manipulation in male and female gametes, which would be an immeasurable advance for science—and a horrific travesty for personal biological freedoms. Felicia read about the next abominations science was creating so she would be prepared to counter any advances.

“Another first. No power.” Neither dog looked distressed. “Oh, that’s right; you can see exactly as well in the dark. Good programming. Too bad I didn’t get the upgrade—no, just kidding.” She activated the Home Settings menu and selected four emergency, self-powered lanterns to illuminate the crucial areas. Nothing. Felicia tried other Home Settings; none of them worked.

Felicia reached for her comm to call her mothers, but it would not turn on.

“This day just keeps getting weirder. Let’s give up on it and try again tomorrow. Come on guys.” Felicia used her tablet to navigate to her bedroom, dogs jumping onto the bed. “Good boys.” She kicked off her slippers, slid under the covers and wrapped herself around Hal while Mito warmed her back. A Felicia Sandwich. “Goodnight, boys. I love you.” She smiled as she drifted off.

Two days passed before the back-up generators functioned. Power was triaged to medical care, then to select the teams working to manage the storm and design protections for the crops.

Update holo-vids were broadcast twice daily to demonstrate the progress being made, to remind all citizens the order to Shelter in Place remained in effect, and to report that there had been "a few misunderstandings” with citizens about the necessity of the protocol.

Felicia was caught up with her reading by the third day. Comms had not been restored. She wished she could talk to Penelope and Daphne-- even Phoebe. Orion was another issue entirely.

Felicia wanted to sneak out to see her mothers, but security was tight with the surveillance drones functioning at low altitude, relatively resiliently in the storm.

Within the week, the regular power grid was on-line for residences-- with strict rationing based on caste. Felicia felt guilty she was allowed twice as much as a family of four in the Agriculture Quadrant. She used only a small amount for her showers and warming food. Her eyes became acclimated to the dark; she joked with Hal and Mito that her sight was as good as theirs, but they were inept debaters.

After the second week, the storm lessened to steady rainfall with only an hour or two of thunderstorms. The holo-vids celebrated the progress and reassured Capitol citizens that the rain would be soon under control.

Slowly, services were restored. The moment the comms were functional, she called Penelope. Daphne was on her comm with Phoebe, so everyone was able to check in. Home Settings remote functions went back online. Rationing was less restrictive.

Then there was only rain. After two days without thunderstorms, all citizens were cleared to return to work, but were not permitted social visits. “Coincidentally,” Daphne, Penelope, and Felicia had a project requiring them to confer in person in Penelope’s office.

Penelope pulled them into a tight circle, turning the white noise up.

“They have a solution.”

“They know how to get the rain under control again?” Felicia asked.

“No.”

“What? How—”

“You have always been impatient Felicia. And don’t say you got that from me.”

That was exactly what Felicia was about to say. Daphne winked at her.

“They can’t figure out how to bring it under control, to get it to rain exactly when and where and how much. They figured out how to turn it off.”

“Turn it off? What do you mean, turn it off?”

“Off, as in the opposite of on,” Daphne teased.

“You were going to ask the same thing.”

Daphne smiled, spreading her hands expansively. “I guess we’ll never know.”

“They will turn the rain off permanently. In all Quadrants, even Agriculture. They are in the process of making sure the rain we’ve accumulated and recycled will be enough to sustain simpler watering systems for specific crops. There will be no more rain. Meteorology will work on temperature adjustments per zone to compensate for the lack of precipitation and its effects on all Quadrants.” Penelope allowed her words to settle, giving Felicia time to process what this development meant.

Daphne spoke first. “When?”

“Within the next 48 hours. The holo-vids will announce the progress and celebrate when the rain stops.”

“And then reveal that rain is extinct,” Felicia said grimly.

“Like the dinosaur and the dodo,” Penelope replied.

“Like freedom,” Daphne added.

“Like pure science for discovery’s sake.” Felicia ran her hands over her bun, unaccustomed to having it up after wearing it down at home.

“At least we know.”

They nodded in silence.

That night, after darkness emptied the streets, Felicia, Penelope, and Daphne met on the hill where the whole family would go with their telescopes to see what lay far beyond the walls of The Capitol.

Tonight, they stood beside each other, Daphne’s arm wrapped around Penelope’s waist, her other hand clasping Felicia’s tightly.

They stood. Silently. In the last of the rain.