Jane looked at the notes and at the relevancy and shrugged her shoulders. She changed the request to read, Reviewed and Nothing Found. She stood and retrieved her purse before she dropped the paper into the to be filed bin and shrugged into her jacket, laughing at the guys playing around while they waited for her. “I swear, you guys are the same at every company.”

  The page sat in the tray and was passed from one floor to the next. A large swath of data was paperclipped to it and a signature scribbled along the bottom of the page. It appeared to be a photocopied version, but nobody really cared about that.

  The signature read, Arthur Boniville, Programmer Analyst. The only problem with the signature was that it was from an employee who had been fired two weeks earlier.

  Kyle jumped over the small concrete wall that was built at the front of the government-subsidized housing on the outskirts of Atlanta. It had been there for three years since the Atlanta riots were in full swing over the quality or lack thereof when it came to protection in the community from some of the new Federation cops that patrolled the areas. After three weeks of riots, seventeen deaths, and over three hundred arrests, the lockdown took care of any further protests. Kyle remembered it but his mom had kept him inside and far away from the trouble.

  A couple of the kids who loitered on the corner and smoked cigarettes looked over and nodded at him. He flipped his hood up, walked faster, and tried not to make eye contact. Kyle was the smartest kid in his school and probably in the whole city. His father was a teacher and his mother a servant in one of the rich houses on Lake Hartwell about an hour and a half away. Going back generations, though, he was kin to some of the most brilliant technological and scientific minds of the twenty-first and twenty-second centuries. Not that it mattered now. Only the money in your pocket mattered.

  He hurried through the side streets and into the house. His mom poked her head around from the kitchen and smiled. “I got here before you. You must have taken the slow bus.”

  Kyle shrugged, put his bag down, and logged into his computer. “There was no bus today so I walked.”

  His mom’s eyes widened and she walked out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. “Kyle Alexander Hawking. I told you that’s not safe.”

  He smiled and glanced disarmingly at her. “Sorry. I won’t do it again. I didn’t want to bother you. Look, I got an email from the testing agency.”

  She walked over with a concerned face and stood behind him. “Just know you did what you could. The system doesn’t look kindly on people like us.”

  Kyle bit on his bottom lip as he opened the email. He read through it and stood stiffly, turned, and put his arm out. “I told you, didn’t I? No one gets a full scholarship in the Gov-Subs.”

  “Elizabeth! Can you get your sister out of here, please? I am trying to cook dinner before your father gets home. You know he works late in the factory for extra overtime,” her mom yelled from the other room.

  Liz sighed and put her book down on the nightstand, about to stand. Her younger sister bounced into the room and flopped on the bed. She looked at Liz and then at her book. “Whatcha reading?”

  She picked it up and showed it to her. “1984. Momma said it was written by our great, great, great, great uncle. I thought, since I like writing so much, I would read it. When he wrote it, it was supposed to be a warning, but it now reads almost like a history book. It’s crazy.”

  Her sister smiled, her hair wild. “You are so smart. I bet you get into the prep school.”

  Liz’s smile faded slightly. “I really hope so. But you know how things can be. We live in a different world now.”

  Her computer dinged and the new email symbol popped up. Butterflies erupted in her stomach as she pushed to her feet and glanced out the window at New York City in the distance. As she sat at the computer, her mother walked in and came up behind her. She had heard the email notification.

  Liz checked and confirmed that it was from the agency. She took a deep breath and opened it, and her heart immediately dropped. A small tear trickled down her cheek and she turned the screen off. Her mother put her hands on Liz’s shoulders and leaned down. “It doesn’t mean anything. You are smart and beautiful, and you will make it in this world. And you are always welcome to come to the salon and be a stylist.”

  She gave her mother a courteous smile and glanced at her sister. She could only hope things would be better for her when she finally reached testing age.

  Jack and Burton Alexander were twins. Both had red hair, freckles, and always wore their shirts untucked at the back. They lived in the suburban area of Kansas City. The middle-class families had modest but nice houses, yards, and pleasant neighbors in the cookie-cutter neighborhood. The boys grew up as best friends and planned their future together. Their dad was an accountant to some of the richer families while their mom worked part-time at one of the affluent clothing stores.

  They were considered middle class, with enough savings to help the boys as long as they each got at least partial scholarships. Both were hell-bent on going to prep school together and pushed each other to study. Jack was always super studious and took his time to make sure that his work exceeded expectations. Burton didn’t have quite the same study ethic, but with Jack’s help, he achieved decent grades and was mildly prepared for the testing.

  On that day, they were out in the yard, laughing and chasing each other around. Their mother had pulled up in her car and stepped out to wave at them. “I told you two not to play in your school clothes. Money doesn’t grow on trees. Go in the house and wash up. I’ve had a roast in the cooker all day so dinner will be ready when your father gets here.”

  The guys pushed each other playfully, raced inside, and almost knocked her over. Their mother shook her head and giggled, used to having such rambunctious boys. She walked into the kitchen, put the bag of groceries on the counter, and checked the roast. Smiling, she unpacked the potatoes and began to prepare them. As she reached for the cutting board and knife, a ding sounded from the computer downstairs, then another. It seemed that both boys had received an email at the same time.

  Their mother knew what it was most likely for and took a deep breath to regain her composure. The boys barreled down the stairs, changed and ready to watch tv. She put her hands out to stop them. “You both got an email. Why don’t you check them? One at a time. Burton, you go first.”

  He sighed and grumbled as he dragged his feet and plopped in the chair. “I don’t know why. You know I didn’t get it. I couldn’t answer so many of those questions.”

  Jack walked up beside him and gave him a grin. “You never know. You could be cannon fodder.”

  The kids laughed and their mother swatted at them. “Not nice.”

  Burton opened his email and his eyes widened. “Whoa! I got something—forty-five percent of my tuition covered.”

  She smiled and hugged him. “That will definitely do.”

  He turned and nodded at Jack. “If I got that much, you probably got the whole thing.”

  Jack smiled widely and sat to open his file. He clicked on the email and began to read, and his smile quickly faded. He clicked the computer off before he stood slowly. “I didn’t get anything. I was rejected from the program.”

  “Maxwell, go tell your mother that we need more sherry out here,” his dad said from where he lounged with his buddies beside Lake Hartwell.

  Max put his lacrosse stick down and shoved his shirt into his khakis as he walked up the marble steps to the back door of his parent’s mansion. He stuck his head in and yelled for his mom, but he didn’t see her anywhere. As he pushed the kitchen door open, he immediately lunged back, almost hit by a large tray of sandwiches one of the servants pulled off the counter.

  The woman gasped and shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Maxwell. I almost covered you in sandwiches. You aren’t in school today?”

  He smiled and rested his hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, Mrs. Hawking. No, I had the day off for a Lacrosse meet. I saw your son Kyle last week, though, when I drove through Atlanta. He’s taller than me.”

  She smiled. “He used to be a midget.”

  He grabbed a grape off the tray. “Did he get his letter from the agency?”

  She glanced down and tried to stop her mouth from frowning. “Yes. He didn’t receive anything. That’s all right, though. There are a ton of other options. How about you?”

  Maxwell’s father came through the door and put his hand on Max’s shoulder as he sipped his Sherry. “He sure did—a full ride. I told my boy he was too smart for his own good. We’ll buy him his first yacht with the money he’ll save me by not having to pay for school. We can take them out together.”

  His father wandered off to grab a cookie off one of the plates. Maxwell couldn’t even look her in the eye.

  Jackson walked into the house, dropped his book bag on the floor, and kicked his shoes off in the middle of the large marble entryway. The maid hurried behind him, gathered his things, and followed as he walked into the living room. He turned quickly and narrowed his eyes. “Where are my drink and snacks? I told you to always have my drinks and snacks ready when I got home.”

  The woman bowed. “You were home early. But don’t worry. I’ll be right on it.”

  He huffed at her and walked into the living room where he threw his tie over one of the chairs before he pulled a folded envelope from his pocket and opened it. Inside was another invitation to a party from some of his friends down the street. They had written him a personal note. Maybe you can snorkel five beers this time and break the record.

  Jackson smirked and shoved it back in his pocket. The butler came around the corner and set the food and drink down in front of the television. He stared at the man. “Where is the maid?”

  He didn’t look up and instead, cleared his throat, obviously not intimidated by him. “You made her cry, sir, and she couldn’t come out looking like that. We know what happened last time. You have a notification on your computer. Your father asked that you go to the study to open it.”

  The young man rolled his eyes and tossed the butler the envelope. “Put that on my schedule for next Tuesday night. Party down the street.”

  Without waiting for acknowledgement, he turned the corner and headed down the hall into the study. Both his parents were there. His mother kissed him on the head and his father handed him a folded piece of paper. “What’s this?”

  His father pursed his lips. “It’s a notification that you received seventy-five percent of your funding for prep school.”

  He laughed. “Why would they give it to me and not one of the poor bastards down in the ghetto?”

  His mother looked at him with irritation. “It won’t matter. You won’t be accepting it.”

  Jackson’s face changed and he leaned forward and uncrossed his legs. “What do you mean? All my friends are going. I have to go to prep school.”

  “And we have no problem sending you as soon as you can show us that you are actually serious about an education.” His father folded his hands together and leaned forward. “We won’t pay for you to have a ball partying your education away. You want to go to school? Great. Show us you can keep a job first.”

  Jackson about fell out of his chair.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Stephanie dropped her head, her voice shaking and hollow. She read the letter about ten times to make sure she hadn’t read it wrong. Dear Student, we want to thank you for participating in the Government required testing. Unfortunately, at this time, we are unable to accept you into the financial program. Feel free to speak to your councilors about your financial aid options as well as when you will need to complete your admission requests for prep school. All other options can be found by visiting your local NorAm Social Service building. Much Luck, The Agency.

  “Not accepted,” she whispered.

  Shaking her head, she waved her hand to turn the screen off. She gripped the back of her chair and stood slowly. Her knees felt weak although she didn’t know why she had that reaction. She should have known all along and right from the beginning that she would never receive the money from the Federation. And she sure as hell wouldn’t take it from NorAm in the form of overpriced student loans that could land you in jail for not paying.

  She walked to the window and looked at the ravaged cityscape in the distance. While she had tried to prepare herself, the trip to Meligorn had messed with her ability to truly accept the inevitable. She had somehow thought that something amazing would happen, that magic would make it all right. But there she stood, and the fragile sliver of a future that had lingered in the wings faded quickly away. Tears stung her eyes and she cupped her hand over her mouth.

  This was not the time to lose it.

  Stephanie shook her head and breathed heavily in through her nose. She wiped the tears hastily from her cheeks and forced her legs to hold her upright. “No. You will not do this, Stephanie. You will keep it together. This is not the end of it for you.”

  She walked to the desk and opened the drawer to retrieve the brochures of her other options for an education outside of prep schools. She would figure out a way—some way—to have a chance at a good future. To break the mold like she had told Burt.

  The phone rang and she sighed and sat in front of it. She tried to put her best face on when she pressed the button. Her mother’s face came up and skipped in and out as it always did on the old thing. “Hey, sweetie. I wanted to call and see how you— Why do you look so upset?”

  Immediately, her shoulders sagged and the tears came. Her mother looked so helpless. “Did something happen to you? Do I need to call the Federation guards?”

  Stephanie looked up, sniffed, and wiped her nose on the back of her hand. She shook her head and tried to calm her voice. “No. God, no, not unless they can change test results.”

  Her mother immediately knew what she was talking about. “I assume they turned you down for funding?”

  She nodded and snatched a tissue to blot her now red nose before she leaned her head back and groaned. “I should have known, Mom. I am not surprised, but that doesn’t mean that I am not upset, you know? The system is so unfair, but I won’t be the person who complains and never does anything to fix it. My road to that, though, just got a whole lot tougher to achieve. An immersion education is the door to so many opportunities, and the people you meet there are part of that.”

  Her mother tilted her head to the side, her brow rumpled in a frown as her loving blue eyes stared back at her daughter. “I know, honey. And I know how hard you have always worked for a future. I feel so bad for you, I really do. This is the worst kind of disappointment at your age. But, like your father and I have always said, learn whatever you can. Just keep learning. That education, no matter where it comes from, will change your future. Whether it’s the headset, the training in the Federation Navy, the loads and loads of texts put out by the universities…the more you know, the better it will be when you apply for jobs. Don’t let them think that because you came from the Gov-Sub that you are not worth it.”

  Stephanie nodded, having heard all of this before from her mother and father in determined and half angry voices. “I know. But sometimes, I wish a truck full of money would crash into the living room.”

  Her mother chuckled. “I have wished for that for years and I even tried to set a trap, but alas, they don’t seem to go through here. No one has any money to give them.”

  Stephanie laughed through her tears. “You are so upbeat about life.”

  “When you were old enough, we had to talk to you about all of this.” Her mom drew in a deep breath. “And it broke my heart to tell you that we were here to give you a roof and food, but nothing else. That you, like us, would have to make it on your own. I wanted so much more for you than that. I wish I could do more but know that won’t change simply because you are graduating high school. Baby, that’s still what we will be able to provide you, and hopefully, that will give you more time to learn from every avenue that you can. Perhaps it can give you a future that you can hold onto.”

  She calmed a little and leaned her head on her hand. “I know, and I appreciate that more than you will ever know. You two are the only ones who have ever really given me a chance. And that is the best gift you could give me. I never expected more. I never expected anything. You should be proud and don’t ever feel bad about not doing more. There are plenty of people who don’t even have people who love them. I am very lucky. I want to do better not only for me but for you too.”

  Her mother wiped a tear from her eye. “You will make me cry all over these satin sheets at the house I’m cleaning.”

  Stephanie laughed. “Don’t do that. I think the rich drink the tears of the poor to gain power.”

  Her father, with his normal goofy mustache, popped up behind her mom and waved. “Hey, sweetie! Don’t let them get you down. You have the world at your fingertips. Wow them with your superior intellect.”

  She giggled as he crossed his eyes and stuck his tongue out. Her mom slapped him on the chest. “Go do something productive.”

  Smiling, Stephanie rubbed her nose. “Do you guys have a full schedule?”

  Her mom nodded. “We sure do. It’s great for the pockets but bad for the ankles, I’m afraid. We have four more houses today and then twice as many tomorrow. It’s that season, though. We look forward to it all year. I think the whole month is booked. If you are bored on the weekends, you are more than welcome to tag along.”

  Her father yelled from the background. “Nope. She will not be recruited to this life. Start practicing your rich person speech instead. One day, you will have to use it.”

  Stephanie shook her head and her mother rolled her eyes. “Do you have a lot of homework tonight?”