With a nod and a drop in the tension of her shoulders, we knew Margot had succeeded in turning the system off. It was too bad she couldn’t get the floor sensors off, too, but they were set to alarm if they were disconnected, even for a moment.
Henri quickly shot a line from a different grapple gun than I had seen before. This one fired out a sticky, suction cup–like end. It held fast to the far wall. He showed me ten fingers, then mimed the suction cup peeling away from the wall and fluttered his hands around to indicate the disaster that would follow if we weren’t finished in ten minutes. Margot held in a giggle, handed the Pad back to Kel and swung herself inside. Kel pushed in next, wasting no time.
The three of them quickly crisscrossed more guide wires, making it possible for us to move through the room without knocking into each other. I shimmied along one wire toward a gorgeously carved mahogany table, but then stopped when I realized the scale and magnificence of the room I was in.
The floors were scrawled with veined marble and inlaid with silver and gold patterns. There was a fireplace stocked with real wood, ready for our target to burn. The walls were crammed with paintings and photographs.
My path across the room took me over a display case of treasures—gems and jewels, and two baseballs signed by players I assumed were famous. There was a collection of dead and dried honeybees pinned inside a glass box, as if their extinction was something to admire. My parents did their work now.
Then there were the books.
I did not touch them, but I was sure they were real. I suddenly understood why Kel had warned me against stealing. I could not help but think how easy it would be to take one of these treasures. A book or a jewel would be easy to conceal.
I didn’t do it—I could barely focus on all the things I was supposed to do. Besides, as valuable as his things were, there wasn’t anything in the room worth the risk. A man like Winfrield would notice and report the theft at once.
I put Winfrield and his possessions out of my thoughts and concentrated on how I was going to get the printer out of my pack, insert the five molecular ink cartridges and get it ready to scan our target so the device would print a noble coin with his profile.
I wrapped my knees around the line and hung, bat-like, upside down. I couldn’t think of another way to keep both my hands free. I carefully removed my pack and placed it on the table, extracting everything I needed while the blood rushed to my head. I unsealed the inks and slid them into the reservoir slots. Then I powered up the printer and arranged the icons to do what Kel had asked. Small spots ran through my vision.
I made a test print of Henri. He and Margot sidled over to see it. It wasn’t very interesting, since it only captured the general outline of Henri’s head in a mask. Margot was smiling. She held out her hand, like she wanted the coin. I looked for Kel, to see if this was okay, but Kel was busy monitoring the perimeter, in case Winfrield or one of his three security people were headed our way.
Much to Margot’s displeasure, I dropped the medallion back into the printer’s reclamation reservoir. Henri feigned grabbing at it, but just for fun. Margot, on the other hand, stared sadly at the tray, where the printer would shave it down with micro-lasers into printable atoms of gold.
My final step was to clear the printer’s cache, so we didn’t end up with an errant print of Henri’s masked face on this guy’s gold coin.
Margot was already at the window, likely pouting under her mask. Henri pulled back each wire-line, except the one I hung on, as he backed out of the room. Kel signaled for me to go and, after a moment, followed me out.
The last line was pulled. The small, sticky spot on the wall evaporated before my eyes. The window closed. We had succeeded.
I felt a flush of exhilaration.
The remaining Placements flew by; they were straightforward by comparison. I could work right side up, and I found it much easier to appraise my surroundings. None of the other Placements were in homes quite as grand, but in each of them I saw dozens of items that made me wonder, If I took that, would it be missed? Most of these homes had books. I yearned to crack one open and see what was inside.
I held my desire back. I knew Kel would not want me slowing our work with reading, and she had been very clear that I was not to steal. But the idea of taking a book and secretly bringing it to Sam was awfully appealing. I was not able to look at the sprawling, wastefully huge homes we entered without thinking of the box my family lived in. Who would appreciate a book more? Would these people even notice if one went missing?
I kept my head down and worked. Maybe every Placer felt like I did. Maybe the bitterness would dissipate in time. Part of me enjoyed that I could think of stealing and no one, not even Kel, would know. Having that secret inside me was sustaining, in a twisted sort of way.
THE ONLY PRIVACY: $21.97
When my first paycheck came, it was deposited automatically into the family account. Saretha’s Cuff buzzed at the same instant as mine. I thought she would be excited, but she only frowned and said, “Troubling.”
Saretha Jime—word: TROUBLING: $6.99
What did she think it meant?
Sam rushed over from his bed by the window and bent over her readout, confused.
“Wait, what is this?” he asked.
Saretha shrugged. Sam studied the numbers closely.
“Is this from a suit?” he asked. The income wasn’t labeled, which was unusual. Then he noticed that I was smiling and looked at the numbers again.
“Speth?” he asked, drawing back. “Is this yours?”
I kept smiling. His head tilted in confusion. He did not smile back, and that made mine evaporate. I thought there would be excitement and relief. This would keep us out of Collection. My check was three times what Saretha had been making. Even with all the suits we’d have to fight, we could survive. In a year or two, we might even be able to save enough to buy off a little debt and bring our parents home for a few weeks.
“Where is this money from?” Sam asked. He bit his lip. It bothered him. He nudged Saretha from the couch. She looked at him, then me, and then settled back to watch a comedy called Wordy, about a girl who liked to talk beyond her means and spent a lot of time taking loans from her friends. Saretha turned up the volume, and Sam turned his attention back to me.
“Is this where you’ve been going?”
He was too smart. Sooner or later, he was going to remember the day on the roof and put together the hours I was keeping, but at that moment, he did not understand.
“Can I help?” he asked. I looked away. I stared at the wall like a zombie. I was trying to say no, but I had to be careful. I couldn’t use this technique too much, or the Cuff might catch on. I felt its weight on my left arm, throwing me out of symmetry, even if it didn’t weigh much.
I wanted him to know, but Kel said to keep it secret. I looked at him again. He was sizing me up.
“This is good,” he said, a little flatly.
“Maybe I’ll text Brandon Nestle,” Saretha said, suddenly, still staring at the screen.