by Jack Dann
“It’s a good thing you’ve got a sense of humor,” the woman said. “Well, we have your blood sample now, and we’ll contact your mother if there are any problems.”
For the first time, Andi remembered the pill in her pocket. Should she ask about it? Would this woman know? But if Mama found out she’d asked, she’d be really mad . . . better be safe.
“Bird, will you be all right while I use the toilet?” she asked. Bird had already had her blood drawn, and all that remained was the eye test and the hearing test, Andi was sure. Bird nodded, and Andi cocked an eyebrow at the woman in the smock.
“Sure—out in the hall, three down on the left,” the woman said. “You’ll come right back here?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Andi said. “Straight back.”
In the toilet, Andi locked the door and called Vinnie on her phone.
“I have to bring my little brother and sister along to lunch,” she said. “Mama insisted on dragging them along and I have to take care of them. I couldn’t tell you before; it all happened after she made me get off the comm yesterday—”
“Hamilton and Lisa aren’t going to like that,” Vinnie said. Andi remembered them more from the stories Vinnie and Beth told about them than from that one whirlwind day of fun. “Hamilton said we should alb go to the matinee to see the new shows, but they’re rated for twelve and over. She’s kind of bossy. Can’t you drop them at the playground? The recreation supervisor can take care of them.”
“I can’t,” Andi said. “Mama didn’t give me enough money, and anyway if she found out she’d kill me.”
“Oh, well,” Vinnie said, sounding faintly disgusted. “I guess we can hang around with you, Beth and me. Maybe Terry will, too. It’s just—it’d be more fun if we were all together. But we can go to the theater any time.”
“Thanks,” Andi said, feeling anything but grateful. “I should be out of the exam in time to meet you in Boone Concourse for lunch at noon.”
“We’ll be there,” Vinnie said. “Just don’t be late.”
Now to collect Bird and Gerry, and convince them to cooperate. Bird was still in the exam room, just finishing the hearing test. Andi smiled at the woman in the smock, and took Bird by the hand when the exam was over. Out in the waiting area, a scowling Gerry was being watched by another woman in a different colored smock, who looked relieved as Andi approached.
“You’re the sister? Good. Your mother said to be back here by the end of second shift, no later. She said you had a phone, but not to call unless it’s an emergency. Do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Andi said. She eyed Gerry. “We’ll be careful,” she said, hoping that would make the woman go away, but she stood there watching as Andi led the other two out into the passage. Gerry opened his mouth, but Andi spoke quickly and softly.
“Listen, both of you. There’s time—we have all day—I can take my certification exam and get my license if you just don’t tell Mama. That’s all I’m asking: just don’t tell Mama.”
“And what’re you offering?” Gerry asked.
“Fifty,” Andi said. She was willing to go to eighty, but Gerry had to think he was forcing her, or it wouldn’t work.
“Fifty! That’s not near enough.” His eyes narrowed. “I know you’ve been saving up for this—”
“I have to have enough for the exam and licensing fee, and to buy lunch for you and Bird,” Andi said, trying to sound reasonable and grown up. “And I need a new shipsuit—”
“Girls and clothes,” Gerry said, rolling his eyes. “I don’t care if you wear an old shipsuit! You haven’t grown; it’s mine that doesn’t fit.”
“If I don’t have enough for the license, then I can’t take the exam, and there’s no reason for you not to tell Mama whatever you want.” Andy kept them moving; adults would notice if they stood still arguing.
“Sixty,” Gerry said. “Why do I care if you get a license or not?”
“If something happens to Mama or Pop, you’ll care,” Andi said. Playing the guilt card rarely worked with Gerry, but it was worth a try.
“It hasn’t happened yet,” Gerry said. “Sixty or nothing.”
Sixty wasn’t as bad as she’d feared. She’d have gone without lunch herself, without anything, as long as she got that license. But she couldn’t let him know that.
“I don’t know what you could find to spend sixty on, plus your own allowance,” she said, forcing a grumble when she felt more like cheering. “But all right. After we leave—•” The corridor around them still had too many people in the smocks and jackets of medical personnel, people that might tattle to Mama.
Once they were out of the Clinic, into the swirl of traffic, Gerry pulled her aside and stopped short. “Now,” Gerry said.
Andi fished in her pouch, carefully not letting him see how much money she really had, and handed him three 20-credit strips. “There you are.”
“This’ll do,” Gerry said. “Now—where do we meet?”
“Wait—you have to help me with Bird, at least until I get to the exam. Anyone along here might be going to the Clinic, might happen to speak to Mama.”
“Oh, all right.” Gerry shrugged and started off again.
“Then I’ll show you where to go in Boone Concourse,” Andi said.
A wall map gave them the most direct route to the Testing Center; Bird trotted along without complaint, though Andi could feel that she was getting confused and tired. Good. That meant she might stay where she was put while Andi took the exam.
“The thing you have to watch for is the workforce pirates,” Andi said to Gerry, over Bird’s head. “They’re looking for unattached kids old enough to be useful—and you are, now.”
“I know, I know. Mama said. But nobody’s gonna catch me,” Gerry said.
“Gerry, listen. They have tricks. You mustn’t eat or drink anything anyone gives you—don’t let anyone pay for your food at a kiosk, either. Sometimes they have accomplices there. Base Stores kids go around in groups too big to snatch, or with an adult.”
“So I’ll join up with some other kids—”
“No! Some of them are workforce bait.” Maybe it wasn’t the brightest idea to let Gerry off by himself. She’d told him before about the workforce pirates that snatched unattached children, but he didn’t seem worried enough. “What you do is act like you know where you’re going, on an errand for some adult. If anyone asks, say you’re going to TeacherSource for tapes your teacher ordered—they’ll think someone will be looking for you if you don’t come back on time.”
“What’s TeacherSource?”
“The education store. It’s just off Boone Concourse on the Green axis.”
“Boring,” Gerry said. “I’m not going there, that’s for sure.”
“Gerry, if you just hang around looking idle, like a habitat tourist, they’ll grab you—”
“I can take care of myself,” he said, too cockily. Andi’s second thoughts became third thoughts, but it was too late to change plans now; there ahead was the Testing Center, and Gerry had already let go of Bird’s hand and turned away.
“Gerry—!”
He waved, and turned back the way they had come. And they didn’t have a rendezvous. “Boone Concourse—the food stands,” she called, hoping no workforce pirate was nearby. Surely they wouldn’t hang around the Testing Center.
At the intake desk, she gave her name, showed her ID card with its proof of age.
“You’re the youngest applicant we’ve had in a long time,” the intake clerk said. “Hardship case, I see. And who’s that with you? She’s clearly too young.”
“My little sister,” Andi said.
“Well, she can’t go in with you,” the clerk said. “There’s a waiting room for family members; she can wait there. Your test starts in fifteen minutes. Remember that you cannot take any communications device into the test area. The rental lockers are over there, half-cred for the duration of the exam. Here’s your examination plate; give it to the examiner.�
�� He handed her the silvery rectangle that would—if she passed—become her third-class license.
Andi took Bird into the waiting room. Here were no toys for children, just rows of hard seats, about half occupied by adults, and two cube readers, both in use. Her heart sank. Bird never sat still for ten minutes, even with plenty of toys around. And there was nothing for her to do.
She had come this far; she wasn’t going to stop now. “Bird, you sit here until I come back. Do not talk to anyone. Do not go anywhere.”
“Don’t leave me, Andi!” Bird’s face turned red.
“I’m not going far, Bird. I have to take a test—you know, like back home when it’s schooltime. Remember? I’m just going in another room to take the test. I’ll be back.”
“Andi, don’t go!” But it was calculation, not panic, in her eyes.
“I’ll give you a present when I come back, if you’re right here, Bird.”
“What present?” Bird asked. Andi tried to think what might be a big enough promise, and yet affordable when she deducted the cost of lunches for them.
“A surprise,” she said finally, spreading her hands. “A big, big surprise. And meantime you can hold my phone while I take the test. Just don’t call anyone; it’ll cost too much.”
“I’ll stay,” Bird said. “I won’t call.”
“Promise?” Bird might be flighty as her name, but she kept promises the way only a nine-year-old could.
“Promise.”
“I’ll be back,” Andi said.
The written exam, graded automatically as she took it, was supposed to last an hour. Andi finished it in thirty-seven minutes, with a perfect score. She had no time to feel triumphant; she went to check on Bird.
“I stayed,” Bird said proudly. “What’s my surprise?”
“The exam’s not over,” Andi said. “I just get a break in the middle. I can take you to the toilets—”
“You said a test, not two tests. You said there’d be a surprise.”
“And there will be, soon as I finish. Come on, Bird, there’s just time.”
Bird had her lower lip stuck out a little, but she came along to the toilets, and when Andi brought her back, sat down where Andi told her.
“Next time I come out, I’ll be finished,” Andi said. “Just wait here for me.” Bird nodded; Andi went back into the testing area.
This time it was the simulator test, and it lasted the full hour, plus five minutes as the examiner tried to talk her out of actually getting the license even though she had passed. “You’re too young,” he kept saying. “You could wait a year; your scores are good but your judgment can’t be mature?’
Finally, he signed off on her score, and gave that and her blank license to the clerk. Andi kept trying to see around the corner to the waiting room—Bird would be about ready to explode, having to wait so long—but the clerk had more questions for her to answer and she had to give a DNA sample. At last the engraving machine spit out her license, with its embedded circuitry and indelible surface engraving, and she had it in her hand.
“Thanks,” she said, feeling a good half-meter taller. Her very own license. She hurried to the waiting room where . . . Bird wasn’t.
Where nobody was. No adults, no children, and most especially no nine-year-old with a stubborn jaw and sea-green eyes.
“Bird?” The word came out in a gasp. She started to look under the chairs, but that was ridiculous. Bird wasn’t hiding under a chair. Bird was gone.
“The toilets,” she said aloud. “She must’ve gone to the toilet again.”
She stopped at the intake desk anyway. “Did you see a little girl—she came in with me?”
“No,” the clerk said, not looking up.
“Black hair, green eyes, so tall?”
The clerk glanced up briefly. “I told you she can’t go in with—oh . . . haven’t you finished yet?”
Andi flung away from the desk. Across the corridor, down past a row of offices, to the public toilets. Inside, faced with rows of shut doors, and a woman’s voice coaxing a toddler from inside one of them. “Now sweetie, you know you need to—”
“BIRD!” Andi yelled. “Bird, are you in here?”
A door banged open on the other side; an angry middle-aged woman in some kind of uniform—dark green with patches and silver braid—stalked around the divider. She had a pilot’s silver rocket-shaped pin on her collar. “Stop that yelling! Didn’t anyone teach you manners, you kids?”
“I—I’m sorry,” Andi said. “I’m looking for my little sister—” The woman towered over her.
“There’s no need to yell,” the woman said coldly. She put her hands in the cleanser unit and went right on talking. “I should report you and your parents as well. You’re far too young to be left in charge of a smaller child.”
“I am not too young,” Andi said. “I’m just short for my age.”
“Well, you look about eight,” the woman said. “And clearly you’re irresponsible, or you wouldn’t have lost her. I suppose you were larking about and not paying attention—”
Andi opened her mouth to, say she had been taking a test, not larking about, but actually—she hadn’t been paying attention to Bird. And arguing with someone in uniform was dangerous. Mama and Pop had both said that, over and over. Always smile, always say ma’am and sir a lot.
“Sorry—ma’am,” she said, backing out of the area. “I’ll just go—”
“You’d better find her,” the woman said, without looking at her. “This is a dangerous place for small children.” Then she glanced down at Andi and her face softened. “Look—I can tell you’re not from Base. If you need help—”
“No, ma’am, no, thank you,” Andi said. “I can find her myself.”
“Here’s my card—” The woman held out a datastrip. “If you don’t find her, if you need to contact the authorities, you can use my name.”
She had to take it; if she didn’t, the woman might be angrier, might insist on reporting her.
“Thank you, ma’am,” she said again, taking the strip and stuffing in her belt-pouch. “I don’t think I’ll need to, but thank you.”
The woman shook her head, as if she was going to argue some more, but something in her pocket buzzed. She turned away, shrugging, and walked off, fishing what must be a phone out of her uniform.
Andi stared after her. Panic bubbled; she fought it down. Bird was nine. Nine wasn’t like a toddler. Of course Bird could read and use a wall map. So where would she have gone? Off to Boone Concourse to meet Gerry? Back to the Clinic to tell Mama that Andi had made her sit by herself? Or somewhere else?
If Bird had gone to the Clinic, no telling how much head start she had, and probably Mama already knew? Unless Bird sat herself down in the waiting area, which—in the mood she was probably in—she wouldn’t. If Mama already knew, the best thing would be to stay far away and hope Mama’s anger wore off. At least she wouldn’t be punished until she went back. If Mama didn’t know, going to the Clinic would only alert her. Either way, going back to the Clinic was a bad idea.
Andi glanced at the nearest map, and headed for Boone Concourse. Most likely Bird had gone to find Gerry; she wouldn’t have wanted to meet Mama and spend the rest of the day stuck in a Clinic waiting room. Most likely she and Gerry would be spending Andi’s money at a snack kiosk.
At last Boone Concourse opened ahead of her, centered by the hanging garden that went right up to the apex of the dome, surrounded by brightly lit shops, crowded with hurrying people. Last time she’d been here, she’d been so excited she’d bounced up and down: all that space. All those people. Colors, lights, noise, music, smells . . . someplace to be other than the same crowded, boring habitat.
Now, looking around for a glimpse of Gerry or Bird (or, she hoped, both) she found the space and people mere confusion. There were children of various sizes, but none in dull gray jumpsuits. Adults brushed past her, scowling down at her. She had to walk close to the shops and kiosks to see who was there
; she had to check out all sides of the central garden column. She barely noticed the proud banner that announced Base now had a population of 23,548, except that Gerry had asked how many people were on Base and she would remember to tell him.
No sign of Gerry or Bird in any of the food shops or near the snack kiosks. No sign of them in the game booths. The very smell of food made Andi’s stomach turn as panic crawled up her throat. She wanted to be angry with Gerry—why hadn’t he stayed where she told-him to? Bird was little enough to make mistakes; Gerry was only a year younger than she was; he knew better.
But that anger ebbed quickly into a cold bottomless pit of fear. It wasn’t Gerry’s fault, or Bird’s fault. It was her own fault, for leaving them alone, and if they were captured by workforce pirates . . . that, too, would be her fault. Had that already happened? Her imagination was all too eager to make up horrific scenes: a dull-eyed Gerry drugged into obedience; a terrified Bird loomed over by an angry spacer.
She was not going to let that happen. She set her jaw and headed for TeacherSource. Gerry had said he wouldn’t go there, but maybe he’d thought it over. He liked books; she might find him browsing the shelves. She’d told him, when she came home last time, about the chip player the store let children use to read some of the titles.
“Andi! Over here!”
Andi whirled, but realized even as she moved that it wasn’t Gerry’s voice or Bird’s. She’d completely forgotten her friends, and there they were, waving at her from one of the food stalls. She recognized Vinnie and Beth—but they were so much taller, so ... so grown-up looking. And the girls with them—those must be Lisa, Hamilton, and Terry. They too had grown; she knew Hamilton only by her silvery blonde hair.
“You’re late,” Vinnie said as Andi came nearer. Then she blinked. “You haven’t grown a centimeter; you still look like you’re eight years old. Where are the kids? Didn’t you say you’d be dragging your kid brother and sister along?”
“Is that the same old jumpsuit you were wearing last time?” Hamilton asked, her lip curling. “It makes you look like a gradeschooler as well as a habber. We have to do something about that in a hurry; I can’t be seen hanging out with a baby habber.” She lifted a shoulder and turned on Vinnie. “You said she was cute and fun; you said she was worth skipping out for. I’m not at all sure clothes will make that much difference. She’s so short.” The tone made “short” sound like a disease.'Vinnie flinched and looked down.
