Passion Model

  System sounded tinny and harsh coming from the bathroom’s small speaker. “Command override instigated.”

  “Origin of command?”

  “Request denied.”

  I didn’t need System to tell me, anyway. I knew who was behind this. Howard Adar.

  In the bedroom, I pulled on a uniform and slipped into my boots. I slicked my hair back into a tight tail at the back of my head and pulled my cap low over my eyes.

  Anger burned my gut, and I shook my head at Kaelyn’s offer of breakfast. “Not today. I’ve got to get in to work.”

  “My Gemma was out very late last night.”

  I looked at her face, scrunched in concern, and paused to put a kiss on her fair silken hair. “I’m okay, Kaelyn.”

  “Will my Gemma be late tonight?”

  I squeezed her close to me, feeling the rise and fall of her wings beneath my fingers. “I hope not.”

  She nodded, her hair brushing my cheek. “I will make you something special.”

  “You already have, Kaelyn,” I told her as I let her go.

  More trouble appeared when I clocked in at work. The retscan blinked twice, and System said: “Rescan necessary.”

  I’d already turned away, but at the order I went back. I lifted my chin to allow the retscan unobstructed access to my eyes. The red light flickered, checking.

  “Citizen GMMA 4121609 report to Captain Rando’s office immediately.”

  Being called in to Rando’s office first thing in the morning was never good. Being addressed as Citizen instead of Officer was worse.

  Rando was waiting for me, her face implacable as she waved me to a seat. “I’m sure you’re wondering what’s going one. I won’t keep you in suspense. As of this morning, your position as Senior Op has been revoked. You are hereby operating under probationary status, as a Junior Op. If, at the end of the ninety-day retraining period, you have proven yourself, you’ll be removed from probation. Your status, however, will not revert to Senior status until you’ve re-met all the standards for that classification.”

  She was, in essence, demoting me. Years of work, lost. I’d expected something bad, but now her words so stunned me I could only sit, staring in silence.

  Rando sighed. “Gemma, I didn’t want to do this…”

  “I know. You had no choice.”

  Her mouth thinned. “Did you think I really wouldn’t discover that IIP mistake a few weeks ago? That, on top of the other incidents you haven’t reported…”

  There had been no other incidents, of course, but she’d been convinced otherwise. I nodded curtly, cutting her off without saying a word. “I know what’s going on, Captain.”

  “Do you?”

  Rando got up and floated in her chair to her door, shutting it with a click. She leaned against it to stare at me, her features crinkling with concern. “Gemma, what the hell is going on? You’ve been one of my top Ops since the day you started! I can’t believe you’d have this many unreported incidents, but when I got the information from Internal Affairs, I had no choice. Who’d you piss off?”

  I only shook my head, unable to tell her without compromising Declan. Rando sighed.

  “Why’d you do it, Gemma? If you’d filed the report, I’d have recommended some refresher training. You’re a good officer.”

  Would she have understood my reasons? That I had been protecting a man I now knew needed no protection, because he hadn’t feared repercussion for his crime? My mistake had been in letting my heart rule my head, not in misidentifying him.

  “Thank you,” was all I said instead.

  She shook her head at me again. “I didn’t want to do this.”

  “I understand.”

  She went back to her desk and pulled her keyboard closer to her. With her attention focused on her viddy screen while she typed up a report, she dismissed me. I didn’t bother to say goodbye.

  When you’re used to a certain standard of living, being demoted can be a real shock. Newcity operates on a complicated but precise system of plus and minus, with everything about a person’s life contributing to their ranking in the city. Career, marital status, friendships, children, even the minutiae of training courses and inheritances factored in. Every citizen was ranked, constantly, up or down. Most people did little more than maintain their status, though there were always those who fought and struggled to rise in the numbers. In reality, your ranking number pretty much stayed the same your whole life. You might raise or drop by a couple of hundred, depending on who you marry or what training you take, but overall, where you’re born is where you stay.

  Those are privileges of position, not of power, and after my accident I’d tasted the latter. I’d become a Class A Citizen, with the added privilege of access codes and permission to use them as necessary to perform my job. As I’d excelled in my career, my ranking had changed in subtle ways.

  I could order groceries and supplies from home to be shipped regularly, and the amount deducted automatically from my credaccount, instead of having to manually place the order and wait for approval before shipment. I could obtain items commonly considered difficult or impossible to get, like Offworld fabrics. I could access illegal viddy programs, like political discussions and rallies in Oldcity. Things kept from the common people because Newcity operates on a “need to know” basis, and the average citizen just doesn’t need to know.

  Not anymore. My demotion showed itself immediately when I returned to my cubicle. My viddy screen flashed the small flower icon I’d chosen to represent Kaelyn. A message.

  Concerned, because she never called me at work, I accessed my personal account. System took a seeming eternity to boot up for me. I half-expected to hear the grinding of gears and see smoke rising from my cubby unit.

  “My Gemma?”

  Kaelyn’s rosy face appeared on the screen.

  “What’s wrong, Kaelyn?”

  “I tried to order dinner for tonight and was denied access.”

  “Shitpissdamnfucktits.” The curse ran together out of my mouth in a long string of anger. “I’ll have to do it, K. I’ve…had some trouble at work.”

  She looked alarmed. “Is my Gemma okay?”

  Guilt stabbed me at all I’d put her through these past few days. “I’m fine. But I’ll have to go back to manual order for awhile.”

  She’d never been with me in a time when something she wanted hadn’t immediately appeared. I could see her struggle with the concept. “I shouldn’t order dinner?”

  “Use what we have in the pantry, okay?”

  She nodded, face solemn. I could see the disturbed flutter of her wings behind her. “You’ll be home for dinner?”

  I thought of Rando’s ominous words and recalled my brief training time as a rookie Op. I’d advanced so swiftly I’d barely had to suffer the indignities considered part of the experience, but I had no doubt I’d be in for it now.

  “I don’t think so. I think I’m going to be working a lot of extra shifts for the next few weeks.”

  The viddy screen beeped at me. “Personal communication limits initiated. You have thirty seconds to complete your communication.”

  “K, I have to go.”

  “I will make my Gemma something special,” Kaelyn said. Her smile warmed me, if nothing else did. “And it will be waiting when you come home—”

  Without further warning, the screen went back to its screen saver of shifting colors. I looked in the upper right hand corner at my personal settings and forced out another low curse. There were red Xs through nearly all the boxes. Personal communication had been set to a five minute limit, fifteen minutes daily max. Personal access codes had been completely removed, meaning I had to get approval from a superior before even keying anything in for research. The clock icon that showed my time left on the job blinked with no limit.

  “Great.” I had no quitting time. I needed superior permission for even that. “I wonder if I have to get a written permission to use the bathroom.”

  “Ask
me real nice and I might consider it.” Eddie slid into the seat next to mine. “Who’d you piss off, G?”

  I sent a silent prayer to my God-of-choice. “Rando named you my immediate superior?”

  “Yep.” Eddie tilted back in the chair to stretch his long legs out on the desk. “Which means you have to do what I say. When I say it.”

  I gave him a look to show me that I wasn’t amused. “This isn’t funny, Eddie.”

  “Hell no, it isn’t.” Eddie shook his head. “All this from one IIP? I told Rando losing the runner wasn’t your fault. She wrote me up for it, G, but she didn’t demote me. What the hell is going on?”

  I stared at him for a long time before I could answer. “I can’t talk about it here.”

  He ran across his mouth and stared back at me. “You’re in deep, whatever it is.”

  I nodded. “Don’t we have some patrolling to do?”

  Eddie didn’t insult me by treating me like the Junior Op I’d suddenly become. “We’re assigned District 5 today.”

  “That’s my fault too, isn’t it?”

  He grinned. “Well, since prior to your little mishap I’d been working the upper class Districts and not the slums, I’d say it doesn’t seem to be coincidence?”

  I thought about putting my face in my hands but didn’t. This wasn’t going to break me. “I’m sorry.”

  Eddie shrugged. “Hey, it might be fun.”

  I cocked an eyebrow at him. District 5 is home to the lowest class bots and the citizens they serviced. This wasn’t about fetish practice, or things outside the normal realm. This was about filth and poverty and crime. As close to real crime as anything in Newcity got. Drug abuse that went way beyond recreational. Illegal weapons. Eddie and I were not in for a fun time.

  My stint in Oldcity had taught me poverty there was the rule, not the exception. Citizens didn’t get ranked—there was no point. They didn’t work. The relationships they formed and broke and the children they bore were not part of any recognized marriage or bonding ceremony. Residents of Oldcity survived on the government-issued ration packages containing food, beverage and the drugs that kept them satisfied with their lot in life.

  Obviously the drugs often failed at their purpose, because Oldcity rocked with riots and crime.

  Yet despite all that, Oldcity has a way of living, a standard if you will. An alien culture, shocking to the average Newcitizen, raised in comfort and cleanliness and peace. Still, there were rules, enforced by habit and tradition in addition to the daunting presence of Ops who here and only here were allowed to carry weapons.

  By contrast, District 5 is part of Newcity. Its only boundaries are the regular District boundaries, not the chemical barriers that break Oldcity and Newcity apart like conjoined twins under the surgeon’s knife. District 5 is not forbidden to any Newcitizen—but only those with a purpose for being there ever visit.

  Legalizing drugs two hundred and fifty years before had effectively put drug profits in the pockets of the government instead of the dealers. Pharmaceuticals are a more common indulgence than candy, which by comparison doesn’t fulfill the same need as completely. Those who can’t control their addictions overdose and rid society of their undesirable presence without the effort and legality that used to be required, and those for whom drugs don’t ruin their lives can indulge themselves for fewer credits than it costs to buy a viddy newscast.

  What goes on District 5, then, is not precisely illegal, but instead foolish and very dangerous. Government regulated recreational pharmaceuticals are clean and cheap. There’s something for almost every taste, and for those who need something else, there’s District 5.

  “We’ve done our time there before, G. It’s no big deal.”

  There are a lot of reasons why I love Eddie, and this only reinforced them. “Why hasn’t some hot chick snapped you up yet?”

  He gave me a leer. “I’m still playing the field, baybee.”

  I reached out to touch a thread of silver planted in his blond hair. “Don’t play it too much longer, Eddie. You’ll be going in for your first set of transplants the day after your honeymoon.”

  “You want to go to the bathroom or not?”

  The thought of where we were assigned that day made me nod. “Hell, yeah. I’m not putting my butt down in any District 5 loo.”

  “You have to learn to pee standing up.”

  “I already know how to do that,” I retorted. “But I don’t even want to stand in a District 5 lav.”

  “Let’s hope we don’t have to,” Eddie said. “C’mon, let’s go.”

  “Phew.” Kaelyn wrinkled her nose. “My Gemma smells bad.”

  Her words were an understatement of grandiose proportions. I reeked. My day in District 5 hadn’t gone well. Eddie’d flushed out a gaggle of illegally outfitted Pleasurebots, and they’d run us into an ambush. We’d been stink bombed.

  We hadn’t been searching for the gang of bots and their leader, who made his profit from smuggling his illegal poisons inside their useful and active sex cavities, but that didn’t matter. We found them, they fought back, we ended up choking and gagging on a dose of specialty stink.

  “I’m going to take a long, hot shower,” I told her. “And then I’m going to bed.”

  She wrung her small hands, and her wings fluttered in agitation. I could see she needed to tell me something but didn’t want to, and I saved her the anxiety by asking her outright to tell me what she wanted.

  “My Gemma must go to the market,” Kaelyn whispered, shamefaced. “I could not order food today.”

  “Shit.” I’d forgotten my demotion meant the daily deliveries had been canceled. Kaelyn couldn’t go to the market herself. I had to do it.

  “I’ll go when I’ve cleaned up,” I promised. “We can’t have you starving.”

  She gave me a wan smile. “My Gemma would never let that happen.”

  So, even though the thought of heading back out to the street made me almost want to cry, I satisfied myself with a chemical spritz to rid myself of the stench inside of the luxurious hot shower I wanted.

  I pulled on a casual outfit of tight-fitting pants and shirt, both black. I slicked my violet-streaked hair back beneath a dark cap, and didn’t bother with refreshing my cosmetics.

  I slipped the straps of my carrybag over my shoulders. This was only the second time I’d ever used it, but I was glad now I’d paid for the deluxe version. Filled with groceries and sundries, this bag would be heavy, and the padded straps and waist belt would help soften the load. “Make me a list,” I told Kaelyn.

  The list was simple and small. It pained me to see it. She didn’t ask for treats or luxuries, only the most basic of staples. Bread, protein substitute, vitamin supplements.

  “Nothing sweet? No chocobars?”

  She looked solemn. “I thought my Gemma might have more trouble. I didn’t want to bother her.”

  “Chocobars are still on our approved list, Kaelyn.” I hoped I was right. I wouldn’t find out until I got to the distribution center. And if they weren’t…I’d make sure to find some for her.

  I hopped a pedtread and went the several blocks to my District’s distribution center. I hadn’t expected a line, and was unpleasantly surprised to find myself waiting in one. Apparently my District had a lot of folks who didn’t rate high enough for auto-delivery, or else there were very few but the powers-that-be made life ten times more difficult for them…just for fun.

  Howard Adar’s ears must’ve been ringing fiercely, because I cursed his name with every foul word I knew, in every language I could speak. I’ve downloaded the intergalactic translator software. I can speak a lot of languages.

  Nobody made eye contact. It was a more shameful thing to be here than I’d realized. I kept my eyes down too, as my cheeks burned with self-righteous indignation and I sent evil wishes Howard Adar’s way.

  When it was finally my turn I used the terminal touch pad to check off the things I wanted. Three out of five items buzzed obstinat
ely when I tried to order them.

  “Unavailable.” System’s cool voice informed me over and over. That I’d had them yesterday and the day before didn’t seem to matter.

  I left with my carrybag half empty. I’d been able to get the chocobars, but only by trading for them with a similarly belabored Newcitizen who was willing to part with the sweets to get some soap.

  “What did you do?” He asked me curiously, with a sideways glance over his shoulder like he was afraid of being overheard. “I didn’t pass my last competency exam.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” I told him curtly.

  He nodded. “Sure.”

  I took the chocolate, gave him the soap and ended the conversation.

  Instead of taking the pedtread, I decided to walk. I needed to work out my anger and frustration, and the exercise would be good. Even with the carrybag’s weight on my back, I was still hyped up enough to set off at a slow jog along the District’s little used sidewalks. Careful not to stub my heavy boots on a buckled slab of pavement, I avoided the other citizen traffic as best I could.

  Without planning my route, I ended up outside the gates of my District park. The one I’d met Declan that night not so long ago. Without thinking too hard about my reasons, I let the door retscan me, and when it opened, I went inside.

  As usual, it was close to empty. The only inhabitants were an elderly man reading an old-fashioned paper newspaper, a collector’s edition probably. He shuffled the sheets at me as I went past him, back toward the gazebo and the fountain, and took a seat on one of the benches.

  In times past, the old guy might have brought corn or seed to feed birds and squirrels. Now he simply sat and looked at his paper. When he’d finished, he folded it carefully and tucked it under his arm. With the dignity of someone who’s not quite certain if his body will allow him to stand without falling, the man nodded stiffly at me and left the park. The silence he left behind was welcome.

  I took off the carrybag and set it at my feet, then leaned back for a few moments. In this park, Declan and I had made love. It seemed as though I could still taste him on my tongue, still feel the whisper of his breath on my skin. All of it had been for nothing, and I didn’t want to think about it.