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I considered sneaking into Henri’s apartment, but that would mean stealing the little blue device while Henri slept. What would I do if he woke up? I could not take the risk. It would be better to get him alone, after the night’s Placement, and distract him.
I hated the way I planned it, but I had to be sure he would be occupied. The pack was always near him or on him. When he wore it, the pocket with the device was right behind his head. If I got him to hug me, I could reach back and steal the device. I would have to do it in a Squelch, just to be sure I wasn’t registered as hugging him back.
I went through it in my head, over and over, figuring out exactly how to place myself in front of him. My posture would be important. I would track him with my eyes, brush against his arm. I wasn’t the first girl to make these kinds of calculations. I’d heard Sera Croate whisper about it to her friends like she was an expert. I had mostly ignored her, because that kind of manipulation wasn’t really me. I felt a little nauseous trying to think back to what she’d said.
I didn’t want to be like Sera Croate.
Would Henri kiss me? It was hard to imagine he wouldn’t. I had to be ready. I prepared to close my eyes and slip the device away. The kiss, if it happened, couldn’t last long. How could Henri enjoy it when I wouldn’t kiss back? Did that not matter? I don’t know how other people feel about things like that. I don’t even know what I think, because my only experience was with Beecher. When Beecher had kissed me that last time, it was disturbing and awful. The physical shocks from his implants overwhelmed everything else. This time, if it happened, it would be sad and terrible down to the bone.
But the more I rehearsed in my head, the less queasy I became. Cold as it made me feel, I couldn’t lose my nerve. I didn’t want it to be this way; I didn’t want anything to be the way it was. I hated what I had to do, but I didn’t have any other choice.
However awful the experience, Henri would be devastated if he knew the truth behind it. I would have to pretend afterward that I’d changed my mind. That happened all the time, didn’t it? Margot would be furious, whether she knew the truth or not. I had no way to handle her. How she might react worried me more than how Henri might take it.
I met the others at our rendezvous and tried to pretend it was like any other night. The Squelch was oval, with dark gray carpeting and walls printed to look like porous stone. We had twelve short Placements that night. Kel was uncharacteristically dramatic about revealing what we were placing.
“This should be an easy one,” Kel said, grinning a little. She had been in a better mood the past few weeks. The debacle with Tico™ Entertainment’s Ad screens resulted in Tico™ suing the screen maker, the screen maker suing the adhesive maker, the adhesive maker suing a glue manufacturer and the glue maker suing a genetics firm who raised genetically altered beetles that could be milked for a glue-like paste. Our Agency, on the strength of Kel’s report, turned around and sued them all.
Kel lifted a bag, lumpy with rounded shapes, and poured out its contents on the floor. Against the gray carpet, the oranges that rolled out looked dazzling. A thin citrus aroma filled the room. The scent was beautiful—far more exquisite than the smell of orange printer ink or candies.
“You can each have one,” she said, flicking a hand over them. It was a rare treat, and a signal from the Agency that they were pleased. I realized the gesture also meant Kel had managed to get the Agency to accept me. Margot and Henri scrambled forward. I let them pick first, taking a moment to blink back the tears that were suddenly in my eyes. Kel urged me on with a jut of her chin. She had been working on communicating with me using tiny gestures.
I plucked one from the ground. It was smaller and denser than I’d imagined. I held it to my nose. Henri began to peel his at once, like he was a little crazed to get inside. The citrus smell intensified. For a brief moment, I forgot what I was planning to do.
I thought of how Sam would love the smell as I ran my thumb over the bumpy skin. I had to wipe my eyes.
“It’s only an orange,” Henri said, biting into his and letting juice dribble down his chin.
I put mine in my bag. I wanted Sam and Saretha to share it, but then I paused. Was that allowed? I looked over at Kel.
“It’s fine,” she said with a nod. “Just don’t be obvious and hand it to them right out of your Placer bag.”
I smiled back at her awkwardly, guilt creeping over my skin.
Margot contemplated her orange, too, and put hers in her bag.
“For later,” she said, looking at Henri. “So I can savor it.” She narrowed her eyes at the sticky mess he was making and added, “I don’t think Speth is enticed by this, Henri.”
Henri’s face immediately turned red. He looked for my reaction.
“Stop teasing him,” Kel said.
I knew Henri liked me, but what did he see in me? I didn’t talk. Was it the way I carried myself? Was it my looks? Margot had such a pretty, heart-shaped face, and she was truly funny, if a tiny bit cruel. Why wasn’t he interested in her?
I couldn’t let myself be distracted by any of this. I had to focus. I needed for us to finish early so I could get Henri alone.
Margot pulled out a wipe from her kit and began to wipe Henri’s face, despite his protests.
* * *
All through the Placements, it felt like Henri was right in front of me, his backpack swaying in front of my eyes. The zipper on the little pocket was the slightest bit open. The jangle of it seemed louder than was possible. It was probably like this all the time, but it seemed so obvious that I feared everyone would know exactly what I was planning.
We raced through the Placements in no time at all, and Kel brought us to a nice, spacious Squelch in the Troisième, not far from my school.
“You were fast tonight,” Henri commented after we were done. He clapped me on the shoulder, and I felt proud, then ashamed, thinking of what I was about to do.
We debriefed in a spacious Squelch in the J. Smith Brinkley Memorial Investment Center. There was a long oval table and a dozen comfortable chairs for rich men to have secret, free conversations. Kel brought up a map to show us where we would meet the next night.
“Henri, nice job tonight,” Kel said. Henri had picked up his pace in answer to mine.
Henri beamed. “Maybe you should feed me oranges every night.”
Margot took his arm and stroked his biceps. “Oh, Henri, how capable you are.”
“Margot!” he said, shaking her off, as if she were spoiling his moment. I noticed that Margot played these moments off as jokes, but when Henri didn’t bite, I could see a flush in her cheeks and hurt behind her eyes.
“This is the kind of efficient work that gets better Placements from more prestigious firms,” Kel said. She loved a job well done, even if her voice occasionally hinted that she didn’t actually care for Product Placement itself.
I threw my pack on my back, ready to go. I looked to the others to do the same. I mapped where I should stand so I could be near Henri as we left.
“Like Eagleton™?” Henri wondered.
“Could be,” Kel said.
I was ready to go.
“Butchers & Rog?” Henri asked.
A cold finger seemed to run down my back. Kel’s face fell.
“Henri, you do not want another assignment from Butchers & Rog,” she said.
“But they’re the most prestigious firm in the dome.”
My hands clenched. Why were we delaying to talk about this, and right now?
“Do you know what you’d be placing for Butchers & Rog? Misery. Just like last time. You’d get a slim stack of yellow envelopes, and off you’d go through the city to deliver catastrophic Lawsuits. It’s a hell of a thing to know you just ruined someone’s life. It isn’t worth the bonus.”
Henri looked down at the ground. The room seemed suddenly colder. I hoped the subject would drop. I didn’t like hearing about Silas Rog even when I didn’t have an awful plan to carry out.
“Does he really have those books?”
“I’m sure Rog has books, Henri,” Kel said. “I seriously doubt he has a single book that proves you can’t Copyright words, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Kel peeked up at me to check my reaction. I tried my best to look disinterested, even though my mind was grasping at the hope the book was real—the book that Mrs. Soleman had been so sure existed.
“Henri, why must you say the most obvious things?” Margot complained.
Henri shrugged.
The mood sufficiently soured, Kel moved on to wrapping up at last.
“1:30 a.m. at the Chau Arena,” Kel said. She tapped her Pad off and went out the door.
I hung back. I knew what I needed to do. My stomach was filled with butterflies. I truly did like Henri, but did I like him enough to want to kiss him? Maybe. I didn’t know for sure. I certainly didn’t want to think about it now. It wasn’t what mattered. Henri was sweet and good, but sometimes more clueless than I could bear.
I didn’t have time to sort out these feelings. Henri went to move, and I blocked his path.
Margot had just crossed out the door. I hoped the door would close and Margot wouldn’t see, but she was frozen at the threshold. Henri stopped, astonished, looking down at me. His eyes went wide, and his smile broadened at his sudden good fortune. The faint smell of orange still clung to him.
I listened for the door to close, willing Margot to just go. I kept my body between Henri and the exit. I tilted my head, a maneuver I’d seen in movies. Margot’s mouth hung open, and her expression flashed from astonishment to anger. I’d feared this would happen, but I couldn’t avoid it. She pulled her mask over her face and glared, wet-eyed, as she let the door close at last.
Henri reached down and lifted up my hand. “What’s this?” he asked, interlacing his fingers with mine, so that, even though I didn’t hold his hand back, he held mine firmly.
In another, more playful time, I would have said, My hand.
I didn’t answer, of course. I stood on my tiptoes and I nearly kissed him. It was easy to lure him to me. He moved in, and his arms encircled me. He kissed me. How careful did I need to be about my Cuff if we were in a Squelch? Could I hug him back? Could I taste his lips, just a little? They were rough and strong, with a slight tang of orange. I noticed that his head was bigger than Beecher’s, which was a funny, nervous thought.
Did I like him? I did, but I couldn’t say how. My mind was elsewhere. I put my arms around him, just like I’d practiced, and pulled the zipper open lightly on his backpack. I slipped the blue device out and scrunched my eyes closed against what I was doing. I prayed Henri wouldn’t notice.
Once I had it, I pulled away. There was no use dragging this out any longer. Poor Henri. He looked so puzzled. I tried to compose myself and smile that Saretha smile, the one from before the Zockroft™, when she was actually happy. How had she ever been happy in this world?
“Are we...?” Henri didn’t know what to ask. I smiled again. I knew he would think that smile was a yes. If all went well, I would repeat this act one more time and sneak the tear-shaped thing back into his bag. Then I would stop. I would suddenly cease being interested and find some way to apologize to Margot.
I worried about her. We all knew Margot’s teasing talk of love was a nested act—except maybe Henri. Did he truly not see she was flirting? I’d broken her heart for this key—but her heart would heal. But if I was caught, Kel’s trust would never recover.
I prayed my plan would work, so it would all be worth it.