ROOFTOPS AND PATIENCE: $17.97
I had to wait for them to contact me. Kel would not say how we would communicate, only that I would know what to do, and how to find them, when the time came. I could not sign a contract. I could not verbally agree. I had little choice but to hope I would be paid enough to save us.
I was told to go back to my “normal” life: go home, go to school, wait and keep a low profile. I don’t think Kel understood how difficult that would be.
Sam and Saretha saw my bandaged chin the moment I walked through the door. It was morning, and they were both up. Sam looked exhausted, but he sat bolt upright and rushed over to examine my chin.
“What happened to you?” Saretha’s face crinkled up with worry, but then went a little slack as she remembered I would not answer her. Her question was wasted money.
“Where did you go?” Sam asked, starting to pace. He asked the room. “It isn’t safe out there.”
I tried to show him there was reason to hope. I raised my eyebrows, and widened my eyes, but I only ended up looking crazy.
Saretha turned away with a huff and clicked on our screen.
“Are you hungry?” Sam asked. “Do you want a roll?” He went to the food printer and printed out a sheet of Wheatlock™. He spread a squeeze-packet of bright yellow Huny® over it, covering the Ad for Prénda™ Suppositories that had been embedded in the thick Wheatlock™ sheet. Sam rolled it up and handed it to me. I felt sad and embarrassed that he was taking care of me. I was supposed to take care of him.
The bright, cloying Huny® tang hid the bland, musty flavor of the Wheatlock™. I didn’t realize I was hungry until then. I ate it and smiled at Sam, thinking I would try to get him a real orange someday. I would take care of him.
“What?” he asked. I smiled more, a little desperate. My chest felt tight knowing I couldn’t tell them my news.
Saretha sniffed. She turned. “Is that the last Huny®?” Her eyes looked wild.
Sam held up two packets. “There is still a little more.” He gave her his impish smile. “You can have them both.”
Her lips went tight. “Both,” she muttered, and returned to her game.
The same Ad for Prénda™ Suppositories popped up on my Cuff, in case I had not seen the one I was eating. I smiled again and showed it to Sam. It’s always free to share an Ad. He forced himself to laugh.
Saretha turned back to her game. “You should probably get ready for school,” she said. I hadn’t slept at all, but maybe it would be better to go. I finished my Wheatlock™ and waited for Sam so we could walk together.
* * *
Outside our building, Penepoli was waiting for me. She leaned against the high wall that blocked the outer ring below. The roar of traffic was light at this hour.
“Have you seen her?” Penepoli asked, suddenly coming to life. She rushed toward us, her lank, wavy public domain hair getting in her face. Style 6 was really impractical.
Sam looked up at me. “Nancee?” he asked.
“She hasn’t been at school,” Penepoli said. She clicked her tongue. “Neither of you have. I thought you were... I thought you had some plan.”
I tried to look sorry. My skin went cold, wondering where Nancee could be.
“What are you guys doing?” Penepoli asked. Her voice came out as a desperate squeak, accompanied by a stamp of her foot.
I couldn’t tell her anything. We weren’t doing anything. I looked up the street. Nancee only lived two buildings away. I looked at Penepoli, and back at Nancee’s building.
“Speth?” Sam asked, tugging at me.
Again I almost answered, this time with a nod, but I caught it before it started—just a dip of my head. I was allowed that. Being around Sam was dangerous. I’d been the main one to answer his questions since our parents were indentured, far more than Saretha ever had.
I let out a breath. Sam and Penepoli waited for me to come to some decision. I knew I should check on Nancee, but I was afraid of what I would find—that she wouldn’t be home, or that she would blame me for leading her to ruin. She was an only child, and it struck me at that moment how lonely that must be.
A prickling sensation spread across my back. I began walking toward Nancee’s. Sam and Penepoli followed.
At the entrance to the building, I could not buzz. The button was on a small screen that had a mandatory Ad quiz. I would not be charged if I had selected which toilet tissue appeared softest, but I would be tracked. That counted. I wanted no part of it.
Sam tapped Fluffwipe™, then jabbed his thumb at the glowing saffron-colored button for number 17. It droned angrily, and the glow darkened, then lit again. No answer came. My stomach knotted.
“She’s not here, either?” Penepoli asked. She tried her luck with the buzzer, but it changed nothing. It wouldn’t bring her back.
Sam shook his head. We all knew Nancee was gone. They’d either taken her off to work somewhere, or Indentured her to the highest bidder. I hated to think what that would be like for her.
“We should get to school,” Sam said. With nothing else to do, we turned and walked away.
* * *
As more days passed, I started to worry that the Placers would not contact me at all. Or maybe that I’d hallucinated the whole thing. I don’t know if they understood that I didn’t have much time. They’d taken Nancee, and Saretha and I would be next. With anxious butterflies in my stomach, I considered going out and looking for them, but that was a foolish idea.
Five days had passed since I’d met the Placers when an unshakable feeling struck me. They would contact me soon. Something was different, but I couldn’t put a finger on what it was. Then, at dinner, I realized my Cuff hadn’t popped an Ad all day.
I went to bed feeling hopeful this meant they’d be coming for me soon. I tried not to feel as if my lucky break was betraying Nancee in some way.
In the middle of the night, a bright white flashing woke me. I shook myself and swallowed—a weird habit I’d developed since my Last Day, feeling like I had to tamp down my words before I was fully alert.
The whole world was a strobe, as if silent lightning was flashing at regular intervals. I stood. The flashing stopped, or, more accurately, it slowed, limiting itself to the outline of our door. In my hazy state, it took a moment for me to understand that the door itself was not flashing in the real world, but only in my eyes, in my corneal overlay—an augmented reality.
I was unaccustomed to the overlay. I’d never had the chance to use any enhancements, so this was new. Somehow Kel and her Agency had been able to override my settings. This was it.
I dressed quickly, nervous I might miss whatever opportunity lay before me. I should have gone to bed dressed, especially after I noticed the lack of Ads on my Cuff. I jammed on a sneaker and started hopping toward the flashing door while I put on the other. I didn’t know what to expect outside. I hoped they would be out there waiting for me.
They weren’t.
I was met by a bright series of dots, which led me outside and into the night. It was late; my Cuff read 2:00 a.m. The path took me away from main streets, down alleys and over easy-to-manage roofs. The path looked comical and conspicuous with all of the bright dots and lighted paths, like a computer was simulating the world inside my eyes. I knew many people used overlays like this all the time to play games, or to lose themselves in other worlds, but I didn’t see how they could get used to it. It made everything seem unreal.
The path was simple until I arrived at my destination. Then the dots came to an end in the parking lot of a Matzeraldi™ dealership. Where the dots ceased, a conspicuous arrow pointed to its roof, three stories up.
Was this a test? The dealership had no fire escape. The exterior had been painted to look like bricks, but the building, like our apartment, had been printed in layers of plastic.
I wore all black—black jeans and a black T-shirt, black socks and black gloves I had laid out in secret for when this night came—but I don’t think it had the same effect as the Placers’ stealthy ninja outfits. I looked at the climb before me and saw no way up. Was this really something I could do?
I thought of Mrs. Micharnd, my gymnastics teacher. She would have encouraged me. In one of my last classes, I was evaluated by a thin, pale, blond man who pronounced I was not good enough for the Olympics™. I didn’t know if he was there on behalf of Sponsors, the Olympic Committee or someone else, but he watched me for only a few minutes. Mrs. Micharnd had put a hand on my shoulder and eased the sour disappointment I felt. She told me his opinion was no reason to give up. Sadly, however, our financial situation was. She would have been glad I’d found something to do with the skills she’d taught me.
Around back, I found a dumpster that let me get a handhold on a thick ledge rimming the first story. I pulled myself up and balanced on the ledge, heel to toe like on the balance beam, but with my left hand palm flat against the plastic wall. There was a pipe nearby. Was that my way up? It didn’t look very secure. Gymnastics didn’t involve much in the way of shimmying. Around the corner, I found an electrical box that let me climb to the second floor. The display arrow flickered in my eyes and slowly rotated, hovering in the air, pointing to the roof’s center, which I could not see.
The second-floor ledge was the same as the first, but this time I was out of luck. Even the pipe ended here. I shuffled my way around the whole of the building, wishing I had thought to survey from the ground first. I saw nothing that would let me up. What was I missing?
I was nearly ready to give up when a black rope suddenly fell right before my eyes. Above me was Henri. The arrow faded away. I grabbed the rope and Henri pulled me up with one arm, even though it would have made much more sense to use two.
Henri, Margot and Kel were waiting up top, all in black, all with masks. Wasting no time, Kel handed me a grapple gun and pointed to a nearby roof. Sensing she wanted quick action, I didn’t hesitate. I wasn’t going to disappoint her. I fired it eagerly, and the hook banged off the side of a glass window on the top floor. Margot giggled. Kel stood firm. Henri pressed a button, and the grappling hook zipped back, almost knocking me over when the hook locked back in the barrel. It was like taking a punch. I didn’t let it show, though. I had to get this right.
High above, a light turned on at the window. A distant figure scanned around. We crouched low, and Kel did something on her Pad. The surface of everyone’s clothes lightened from matte black to the gray of the roof, except, of course, for mine; I was still dressed in my all-black street clothes. Henri and Margot stepped in front of me. The figure above saw nothing and returned to bed.
Undeterred, Kel pointed to another roof opposite the first and indicated I should aim higher. She tapped at her Pad, and a thin arcing line appeared in my eyes, showing me how to aim. I lifted the hook into the ghostly track and shot it over the ledge perfectly. It pulled back onto solid wall. Kel grabbed the end of the line and secured it. Margot handed me a thing she later called a runner: a small motorized clamp that, when pressed, would speed me up to the ledge. Henri indicated I should use two hands, then he hooked a belt and a safety line around my middle. I squeezed the trigger, and off I accelerated.
The building was a good fifty meters away, but I realized that if I kept speeding, I would slam into the side of the building full speed and fall, cartoonlike, to my death. My heart started pounding, and I eased off the grip too much. I slowed, sped up, slowed and then, when the building was near, I crawled along so slowly that Margot caught up to me and pushed me along the rest of the way. The height was unnerving. We were twenty stories up, but I was sweating more from mortification than fear. I felt like I should have been smoother at all of this.
On the roof, Kel shot a wire back to where I had originally aimed. This was our first destination. We traveled across, almost horizontal, with nothing below us but concrete and the hard walls of the dealership.
I wondered if there was any chance a fifteen-year-old girl could die of a heart attack.
On the second roof, all the climbing gear was stowed. Kel pulled a bundle off Henri’s back and threw it to me. Inside I found a full set of clothes, matte black like theirs, and a mask. Obviously Kel wanted me to change, but where? The roof was a flat expanse, except for the small structure that housed the emergency door. I looked at Kel. Maybe I could change inside?
She shook her head, as if reading my thoughts. She impatiently pointed to indicate I could make my way to the far side of the structure door if I wanted to be bashful. It shouldn’t have mattered, but I wasn’t ready for these people to see me in my underwear.
Margot came over and escorted me to the side, pulling a piece of long, thin black fabric out of her bag, which she held up to shield me. Thank you, Margot, thank you!
Kel pulled out her Pad and looked into the building, focusing on an apartment two floors down. She found two more sleeping bodies, then a bedroom with a child, then another kid and a third. She showed me, so I could see the layout, and who was where, but I saw something else: a family, two parents and three kids, all living together in a home. A pang of longing slowed the pounding of my heart. Down in Carolina, my parents slept, unaware of what I did.
Kel held up five fingers, oblivious to my ache. Henri made for the outcropping stairs, but Kel stopped him. She made a flipping gesture with her hand. The three of them pulled out their gear to rappel down and set it over the side. Kel took me with her. While Henri worked hard to unlock the window, she paused to appraise me. Did she see something, or was she just checking to see how I was doing? I tried to put thoughts of home and family away. I didn’t want her to see any emotion in me that might give her pause.
The window clicked, opened up, and one by one, each of us dropped inside. I hit with a low, discreet thud—but the three of them made no sound at all. Henri rushed over to me and reenacted his landing in slow motion, showing me how I should bend my knees and roll from heel to toe to dampen the sound. He then went to make some encouraging gesture, like a pat on the back, but stopped, like he’d short-circuited with embarrassment.
They worked fast. It was a simple placement, a bottle of Righthaven Wine® from a high-end East Kansas vineyard. Margot handed me a small, disk-shaped light and pointed above where Henri was setting the bottle on a pedestal. With her hands, she told me to set it in place to shine down on the display.
Quickly. Margot shooed me along like I was holding up the team. I was not moving quickly or quietly enough. They had no idea how important this was to me. If I had a weekly paycheck, Saretha could stay. I could stay. She and Sam and I could be together, holding some part of our family intact.
Margot watched me carefully, one hand turned inward under her chin, fingers moving anxiously. As I climbed onto the counter, my sneaker squeaked softly, and Henri drew in a breath, eyebrows raised. Standing up, quietly, with the light in my hand, I didn’t know what to do next. Margot stopped moving her fingers and impatiently mimed holding the light, which she then jammed into an imaginary ceiling. I mimicked her motions, but with much greater care. The light pulled itself to the ceiling, magnetized. I turned it on. The shaft of light shone down directly on the bottle. I impressed myself with my aim, but it turned out my placement was wrong. From straight above, the bottle’s label was scarcely lit. My light had to be set away, so the shaft could be angled like a spotlight. The label had to shine. It took a few adjustments. When I finally succeeded, Margot bounced happily on her heels.
I climbed down, and we were done. Relief flooded over me. I had not messed up too badly, had I? They would hopefully understand that this was my first go. Henri was already packed up. Margot rushed me along. Kel went last, walking backward, swinging the Pad from side to side to keep watch on all the sleepy orange blobs. Despite a few little hiccups, I was feeling good about the operation—until a tiny voice wailed from the next room.
“Mommy!”
Kel whipped around quickly and focused her Pad on the girl. The child was sitting up in bed, rubbing her eyes. The apartment door clicked softly open by Henri’s hand. Everyone sped through into the hall, though I was slow to react and Margot had to pull me along behind her. Kel came through last, doing everything I did, but better, silently and backward. She stepped through the threshold as Henri closed and relocked the door.
Kel held some kind of countersecurity gear up to a camera, knocking it into a looped feed that didn’t include four Product Placers in the hall. We raced up the stairs and all erupted out onto the roof. Kel stormed out into the night, shaking her head, tapping her hand on her wrist. We had taken too long. The little girl could have had a nightmare, I wanted to say, it wasn’t me. Henri shrugged like it was no big deal, but it mattered. If I didn’t do well, my family was doomed. Kel’s eyes shone in the dark, severe and critical. She took one more moment to appraise me and then shot out a line of carbon-fiber wire. Henri waved me on.
Not a block away, Kel ushered us into another building, down a hall and into an office. Her hands moved quickly, almost angrily, reminding me of how my mother used to move when I’d misbehaved, but not badly enough for her to spend money on words to reprimand me.
Before I could even see what Kel had done, a door cracked open in the wall. Margot and Henri moved quickly inside. It was another Squelch. I hesitated, but what could I do but go inside? I had to hear what Kel was going to say.