Emilja Jurich smiled wanly at Alik over the table. “How’s it going?” He sat down hard in a chair opposite her and scowled at the vase of bright tangerine roses blocking the full line of sight between them. “Basically, it’s a shitstorm without end. Too many of our boonie folk think they’re true survivalists and this is the glorious moment they’ve been waiting for all their lives; its going to be a heroic gunfight where their hunting lasers and grenade launchers will save the day. Then there’s all the naturevists who reject city life and aren’t going to go live under a shield no matter what.
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