All Rights Reserved (Word$ #1)

“Nothing you say will be recorded,” the leader said, with a sidewise glance at the little one. “We’re sealed off from the WiFi. The tether is cut. Your words are free and unmonitored.”

My panic turned to disbelief. I breathed out hard as my brain tried to find purchase on this idea. I should have realized that places like this existed. The whole system of fees relied on us always being connected. Of course people would build spaces to block the tether, and, of course, the people who needed it least were the ones who could benefit from this trick.

“Do you understand?” the big one, Henri, asked me.

I understood. They wanted me to speak. I could speak, if I wanted to. I felt giddy and nervous all at once. It was drilled into us from the time we were very small that an always-on connection is critical to the fabric of society. FiDos were one thing, but this was something else. It was a willful skirting of the Law, one I would have wholeheartedly endorsed if it occurred in my neighborhood rather than here.

“If she understands, that does not mean she will speak,” the small one said. Her voice was soft and tired. She dropped down along the wall, sitting on the floor.

“Oh,” Henri said, looking a little confused. He offered me his hand awkwardly. I didn’t take it. Handshakes are Copyrighted. Was I going to speak here? Could I trust them? My lips mashed together as I tried to decide if words would betray everything I had done.

“We don’t even know if she is able to speak,” the small one pointed out.

“It is completely safe,” the leader explained.

Was it? I had a soft spot in my heart for Product Placers. I was amazed they had taken me in and brought me here, but I was not prepared to blindly trust them.

WiFi or no, I wasn’t going to take any chances. I kept looking at my Cuff, worried it would somehow report this back. Even if it didn’t, even if I got away with speaking, it felt wrong that I should do it here, with strangers.

Henri pulled off his mask.

“Henri!” the leader cried out.

Henri looked younger than I expected. He was maybe seventeen, but had wide, deep creases around his mouth. He pulled a big smile—too big, almost. His light brown hair stuck out at odd angles, full of static from the mask. He tried to smooth it out without success.

“What,” the leader asked, “is the singular, most important thing about our job?” Her voice was low, musical and flute-like, but the tone was not friendly anymore. Her Pad seemed to purr in her hands. I’d never seen a device like it. It still worked with the WiFi blocked. I didn’t see how this was possible. I thought all software required a constant connection to verify it wasn’t pirated or hacked.

“Free swag,” the girl who’d given me the bandage on the roof giggled.

“This isn’t funny.” The leader held up a finger. The girl lowered her head.

“Never be seen,” Henri muttered with a small, apologetic shrug.

The leader looked around the room in frustration. She was expecting better. “So you take off your mask?”

“I was hot,” Henri said.

“Henri runs warm,” the little one said.

He didn’t take that mask off because he was hot. He wanted me to see his face. I was flattered, but could not understand why he’d done it.

“She isn’t going to say anything,” Henri assured the leader. “She isn’t even talking now.”

He was right; I was choosing not to speak, even here.

“You don’t trust us?” the little one asked, pretending her feelings were hurt.

It wasn’t that I didn’t trust them. I wanted to talk. I wanted to ask a million questions. A world of possibilities opened before me. I could explain my situation. I could ask them for help. I could beg them to let Saretha join them—the only job in the world where she could wear a mask and be outside the house. But something stopped me.

For all the harm it had done, and the trouble it had brought into my life, my silence meant something. It was a protest. I owned it. I couldn’t cave just because I had a chance for free speaks. The funny thing was, this was what I most wanted to say and, if I said it, the words would mean nothing.

The leader eyed me. “I like her prudence,” she said. I saw admiration in her eyes. I felt hopeful something good might come of this—a feeling I hardly recognized. Could I show them the way to Saretha?

“But this was a bad idea,” the leader went on, shaking her head and looking at the ground.

“You let me go down to rescue her,” Henri said.

“I did not sanction any such thing.”

“Henri the heroic,” the little one chimed.

“And you let her follow us,” Henri continued.

“I let my curiosity get the better of me,” the leader said, sighing. “But wanting to know her plan is one thing. Showing your face to her is something else.”

“What difference does it make? She isn’t going to tell. If no one knows she’s seen us, it’s like she hasn’t seen us at all.”

“Henri the philosopher,” the little one commented. She turned to me, zipped her lips and raised her eyebrows as if to say, That’s your thing, right? It wasn’t the same as when the others had done it. I couldn’t tell if she was impressed or mocking me. It felt weirdly like both.

The leader rubbed her hand over the top of her masked head, and suddenly, her body posture fell. “What’s your plan, Henri?”

“I had two ideas, actually,” Henri said, rubbing his hands together.

“I’d love to hear even one,” the leader said.

“First, I thought if we brought her here we could...explain things.”

“Oh, Henri!” the smaller girl squealed. “You are so wise, explain things to me!” She jumped up and down, clutching her hands to her chest.

“Margot, stop,” Henri said.

“I will stop,” Margot answered obediently.

“But no, I meant, for example, she might like to know that if she doesn’t speak, she isn’t tracked. Legally, they can only check your location when you initiate conversation.”

“Initiate,” Margot said. “That is a very good word, Henri.”

Henri took a second to glare at her.

“You might think it’s good, but it could be dangerous. Like if you needed to call for help.”

My body shivered. I had just learned this the hard way.

“Henri, that’s not very exciting. Obviously she knows this,” Margot said, dropping her head and slumping her shoulders. “I’m no longer in love.”

The leader covered her mouth to conceal a grin. “That isn’t entirely true,” she said. “They can track a Cuff at any time. They just can’t do it legally unless there is a transaction. The only way to go completely off-line is to enter a Squelch or to remove your Cuff.”

Margot hesitantly pulled off her mask as well, as if she were defeated. She had her round little face in a frown. She was freckled and pale, with a face that seemed Asian and African and French, all at once, like her background was a mixture of everything. Her black, silky hair, styled into a bob, swept forward into two points. It was clearly an expensive haircut. She didn’t look much older than me. I’d had no idea Placers were so young.

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