OBDURATE: $18.99
Kel shook her head, and Margot and Henri stood stock-still. Had I really messed things up so badly?
“The first thing we do is reconnaissance,” Kel said, breathing out slowly to center herself. “Reconnaissance first, then specifics. Prepare, plan and execute.”
I was ready to burst into tears. If they usually prepared, why hadn’t they done it tonight?
“But I wanted to see how you would do without preparation. I wanted to gauge your natural talent, because it is not possible to plan for all contingencies.”
My brow furrowed. Kel squinted at me.
“You understand, there are a hundred, maybe a thousand kids in this city who would give their right arm to have this chance,” Kel reminded me. “Kids on the brink of Indenture. I know of four kids shipping out in the morning to spend the rest of their lives baking in the field sun, or withering in factory shadows until they die.”
I know, I wanted to say. She kept watching me. Did she not like the expression on my face? What was she looking for? Her hard look flickered, and for a brief flash, she seemed concerned.
“This is where I lost it,” Margot whispered to Henri, but obviously it was loud enough for me to hear.
“Margot!”
“What?” she asked. “Speth is only going to stand there and look at you. She is not going to defend every action like I did, or fall over herself to apologize like Henri.”
Kel looked from Margot, to me, and back to Margot, shaking her head almost imperceptibly. “I could have used ten more seconds, Margot, to measure her reaction.”
Margot suppressed a smirk. Relief flooded over me. Kel was testing me. I hadn’t freaked out.
“I didn’t apologize,” Henri whispered back to Margot, “that much.”
“No, Henri. You begged. Please, Kel, tell me what I did wrong, please, please, please,” Margot mocked. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.”
“I only said sorry once,” Henri said, red-faced.
“But you didn’t apologize.” Margot grinned.
Kel rolled her eyes and stepped to my side. “I can read your face. Remember that. The Rights Holders can’t charge for expressions. It may not be an exacting method of communication, but it will do in a pinch. Understand?”
I almost nodded in return. I raised my head, but didn’t drop it. Instead, I forced a smile, nerves interfering with letting one form naturally.
“Look,” Kel said, showing me her Pad. She typed my name in its search box. Her finger hesitated over the ENTER button. “It isn’t tethered. The Agency designed this Pad to be self-contained. It quietly loads information without leaving a trace. They had to be sure it would work regardless of where we are or what we are doing. It’s exempt from word fees or tracking, like a Lawyer’s computer.”
I’d been taught that software always needed to connect to the tether to function. I remember seeing diagrams in school that showed how all programming was interdependent, checking for digital rights management and payments. I suddenly felt foolish for believing it.
“I am taking an awful risk, bringing you on,” Kel said, tapping the ENTER button at last.
Did that mean I could stay? My heart skipped a beat.
She turned the Pad to me. A map of my apartment came up, with its modest layout. Saretha, Sam and I were listed as occupants. Large red letters through the map text read:
Placement Scheduling Window: Invalid. Continuous Occupancy: Saretha Jime.
“Coming and going will be difficult for you. Your family can’t know you are a Placer.”
I swallowed hard. As exciting as the idea was, she was right, and I was uncomfortable realizing she knew about my family. Of course she would have researched us. She tapped on my name and pulled up my profile.
“This isn’t a glowing endorsement.”
Speth Jime
Age:15
Height: 5’2”
Consumer ID: 319-02-6651A
Hair: Chestnut, Unremarkable
Hair Style: Public Domain Style #14A-Short “Pixie Style”
Rating: D
Eyes: Brown, Unenhanced, Unremarkable
Body: Standard, Thin, Unenhanced, Unremarkable
Physical Condition: 96/100
Rating: A
General Appeal: C: Unremarkable, Disagreeable
Personal Style: Generic, Unremarkable
Socioeconomic status: 34/1000: Poor
Debt Score: Fluxed -.101 to -.081
Default threat: High
Credit Score: 312/850
Default threat: High
Consumer Index: 32/500
Rating: F
Volubility Index: -Error
Speech profile: -Error
Loquaciousness Rating: 0/5000
Social Influence Score: 88/100; Trending
Emotional Index: 9/10
Assessment: Volatile
Gullibility Index: 3/10
Assessment: Low
Market Influence: 24/800
Rating: F
Geodemographic Group: P3-788: Portland Outer Ring
Branding: None/Failed
Rating: F
Educational status: Grade 10 of 12
Employment status: Purged/Redacted*
BL Agency Profile: Irregularities in behavioral and consumer profile. Problematic obduracy. High probability of nonconformity and/or rebelliousness.
Assessment: Disregard
Keene Services Profile: Contractual irregularities. Irregularities in communication profile. Incongruity between influence and appeal ratings. Unpredictable behaviors. High probability of antisocial/anticonsumer action.
Assessment: Threat
Sloan Agency Profile: Uncommunicative. Obdurate. High probability of nonconformity/antisocial action. Volatile.
Assessment: Threat
“Her pixie cut is not a D,” Margot said, leaning in.
“Margot, go set up your gear,” Kel growled.
“Yes, Kel,” Margot said and saluted.
It was a little startling to realize Kel could look up anyone on this Pad and get this level of information.
“You need to prove yourself, Speth,” Kel said, clearing the information with a quick tap. “I probably wouldn’t give you a chance, except I happen to hold the obdurate and the volatile in high esteem. But that doesn’t mean you can get away with not listening to me, and it does not mean you have permission, or latitude, to do anything on your own.”
She waited, then pointed down to the carpet. “Have a seat.”
I did as she said, though part of me felt a little like a dog being trained. Kel knelt down before me. Her dark eyes locked on mine.
“You have to promise never to steal—not from our sponsors, and especially not from the homes we will be in, no matter how tempted you are, or how much desire you feel.” She spoke with a seriousness and intensity that frightened me. I didn’t know whether she was morally opposed to theft, or if she did not want to jeopardize her job, or if it was something else entirely. I thought back to what Henri said that first night about her cutting the WiFi. Did that fall under a different moral code for her?
“The places we are going...it will boggle your mind to see the scale of what some people have acquired.”
Margot let out a delicious little hum, like she was tempted even by the thought of it all.
“You will think they won’t notice, but they will. These people—every little thing is precious to them, and they’ll remember it, especially if it is gone. They forgive nothing.”
“Nothing,” Margot echoed, frowning.
“Do you understand?” Kel asked me, refusing to be distracted.
We looked at each other. My throat ached to say yes. She searched my eyes for the answer. What expression did I need to wear to convey my understanding? She stretched her legs, stood over me and asked again.
“Do you understand?”
“How—?” Henri started, but Kel shushed him, her eyes looking down at me. Why was she towering over me like this?
Then, with a start, I realized what I was supposed to do. I leaned forward and pushed myself off the floor and stood up straight, my shoulders back, my expression determined.
Kel nodded the smallest nod I could possibly imagine. Relief washed over me.
Margot grinned. “This makes things simple. So Speth,” she said, tapping her finger to her lip like she was thinking. “Sit back down if you drink coffee.”
What? Whatever relief I’d felt evaporated. Did they expect me to start communicating like a trained seal?
“Margot,” Kel said, intervening between us, shaking a finger.
“But you just—”
“I didn’t do anything. I am assuming that Speth will not respond any differently in a Squelch than she would outside. If she ends up sitting, or standing, or jumping or itching her nose in answer to every question, everything to this point becomes meaningless.”
I swallowed and waited to see how Margot would react. She grimaced.
“I only meant to point out it would be much easier to communicate if we could...communicate.”
“Does this mean she’s in?” Henri asked, like he’d been holding his breath.
I was glad he’d asked—and for the change of subject.
Margot frowned and elbowed him. “Henri the subtle.”
“No,” Kel said quickly.
My heart sank.
“She needs to be cleared. I’ve put in with the Agency to ensure she doesn’t get any pop-up Ads that could disrupt a job. We will see where things are after a few weeks. If nothing goes horribly wrong...” Her voice trailed off, but the tone of it seemed to indicate there was hope. I didn’t want things to go horribly wrong either. I smiled as best I could. I would have crossed my fingers, but that gesture was Trademarked by Sands Inc.™ I looked at my Cuff, slightly giddy at the idea that it might never bother me again.
“We start by looking at our targets,” Kel said, signaling that it was time to move forward and get to training. She tapped at the Pad and showed it to me again. I let myself relax slightly and focused on what she was showing me.
The Pad showed the names and addresses of the night’s Placements, as well as a wealth of information about each individual’s buying habits, liquid assets, social networks, employment history and any preference or predilection you could dream of. It also had minutely detailed blueprints of every home and business we were assigned. The amount of information our Agency collected was astounding.
“We can look up anyone and learn when they are likely to be home or away, awake or asleep,” Kel said. “So we can plan when to hit each spot and what route is best to take.”
I tried to take it all in, but my heart was suddenly thumping. The Pad could look up anyone. It should not have been my first thought, but I realized I could look up Carol Amanda Harving. I could find out where she was, and maybe, somehow, get her to desist.