"...later this month," read the end of Vera Swann's message.

A few weeks ago, it was "later this summer." Regarding our request to dispute Monika's decision to suspend us, that has been Vera's reply every time I messaged her. Now it was "later this month."

"I don't think it's Monika behind that, per se," said Aledon over our morning cups of coffee in our living room, when I brought up that speculation. "I've known Vera since she started. She was in my class. She is no-nonsense; she was on summer break, just like everyone else, and has some catching-up to do. She addresses everyone on a first-come, first-served basis. So I would worry only if October comes and goes without anything..."

I was about to argue back when Elisabeth and Madison walked in through the front door. Madison took out a copy of the flyer we gave them and read aloud: "Why Stamp is a problem: First, he wishes to purge the Flagstaff of critics and replace them with loyal writers, thus making the platform a propaganda station. Second, he wishes to privatize University programs and turn them into fraudulent businesses like his 'failed' ventures. Third, he wishes to pursue critical-thinking organizations like the Third Level Society... What you can do: Tell others around you to vote for someone other than Stamp..." She put the flyer down and looked at everyone. "Listen guys, we understand. We are all for doing the best we can. And believe me; we'll vote accordingly. But other than that, Elisabeth and I have some studying to do."

"Actually," added Elisabeth. "Aledon. Give me like 100 copies if you have them."

Aledon got up out of his seat and went to his personal bedroom for a moment. He came back out with a huge pile of flyers and handed 100 copies to Elisabeth as requested.

"Thank you," said Elisabeth. "I will leave them in a random place..."

"Wouldn't they be found and destroyed by Stamp supporters?" I asked.

"I have a few friends that will make sure that doesn't happen," assured Madison.

"Actually," continued Aledon, handing another pile of copies to me. "I would do another sweep of Campus if I were you."

"I thought we were already doing another meeting this afternoon," I said. "Wouldn't it be better to save these till then?"

"I'm not sure who's going to turn up to that, to be honest. So far, I've had five people saying they wouldn't make it..."

Sighing, I took the pile and made for the door. I had done five other "Campus sweeps" this past week. And I was planning to tend to my granular plane garden as I had done yesterday. But Aledon's conviction won that internal battle in my head. With a nod, I proceeded out the front door and into the corridor.

Downstairs, near the outer door, stood a woman even shorter than Monika, her dark-brown hair tied up in a bun. "...quality education," she was saying to a random passerby student. "And as long as I'm here, this University will continue to offer that!" She then saw me and introduced herself as Heather Walker. "I understand there's some underground meeting?" she asked loudly as she shook my hand. When I froze, unsure how to respond because I wasn't sure who she was or where she stood on things, Heather continued. "Someone named Aledon Tangreen is holding a gathering? I'd like to see that...Or should I just be like every other freshman and go to the Convocation today?"

"Oh right," I remarked blankly. I remembered reading about the yearly Convocation on OCEA, and remembered that it was scheduled to take place today.

"Would you like to join me for that?" asked Heather. "Maybe we'll find Stamp and kick him in the groin on the way over."

"I suppose I could come with you, though I am an incoming sophomore."

"Oh. No pressure. Looks like you've got your hands full anyway...by the way..." She took one of the flyers out of my hand, read it, and looked back at me. "I'll take half of these and help you out."

The meeting, later that day in our living suite, was the same hum-drum as last time. Only a few people bailed, as it turned out; thus, the number of attendees was reassuring. And this crowd was joined by Heather, who had unlocked the door.

"You hadn't figured it out yet? That I'm the new roommate?" Heather said to me, seemingly half in jest, after the meeting had ended.

"Got tired of the Convocation then?" I said.

"More like too many people. Couldn't get into the Assembly Hall. And I'm not standing out in this heat." Indeed, it was unseasonably warm weather outside, even for late summer. "Still going on too, if you want me to show you...just in case you don't believe me when I saw that this is record enrollment for freshmen."

I decided to follow her because of the prospect of recruiting freshmen in time to vote against Stamp. The election, after all, was only twelve days away. As we headed down, I saw that even the Campus blocks surrounding the Assembly Hall were filling with people.

"Are you kidding me!?" shouted Heather, pointing ahead. At the very back of the crowd, I saw that a man with long, shiny golden hair was up on a platform, speaking talking points over a loudspeaker. I felt like my eyes were deceiving me, but, indeed, it was Stamp himself. Heather made to charge at him.

"No! Don't!" I shouted, holding her back. I admired her passion, but having such rage was a double-edged sword in a political environment like this.

***

I sent an OCEA message to Bernard about Heather taking his spot as our roommate. He had never heard of her till now, but our conversation did touch on a point she made: about the record enrollment of freshmen. This just happened to be a year of high popularity among that age group. And apparently, Heather was lucky to have the spot she did, for all five Houses had been booked for the first time since the 1280s. Students were now being assigned, by House name, to "adjacent housing accommodations paid for by the University."

Bernard was beside himself in vowing that Stamp has no chance of winning next week. Meghan, on the other hand, has been more skeptical. She says that even though the probabilities don't exactly warrant a plan of action, the polls are uncomfortably close, and the chance is never zero.