by Jason Tesar
report he was assembling on the incident. Most citizens couldn’t afford an implanted connection device, called an interminal, but police officers needed them. The risk of losing or damaging an exterminal was too high. “You were there with a Ms. Kirti Vasu and a Mr. Dalyn Rigby. Is that correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And what were you doing out there?”
“I found an old, dead tree, and I wanted to show them.”
Clarine came back from the kitchen with her forehead scrunched into dozens of intersecting wrinkles.
“So, you’ve been out there more than once?” Officer Dougherty asked.
“Yes, sir. I go there sometimes to run.”
Dougherty nodded as he watched the report update itself based on Rena’s answers. Then he looked up. “Are you aware that Commons Three is nearby? It would be a more appropriate location for exercise.”
Rena glanced at Marshall. He and Clarine contributed to the Commons Maintenance Association for just that reason. “Yes, sir. I go there sometimes as well,” she said, looking back to the officer. “But it’s crowded and …”
Officer Dougherty didn’t wait for her to find the words. “Well, as I’m sure you’re now aware, the Barrens are quite dangerous. Even the Outskirts are becoming unsafe.”
“Yes, sir—”
“Rena, what happened?” Clarine asked.
Marshall held up his hand. “Clarine, let the officers handle this.”
Rena’s dad was usually the first to jump in and take charge of a conversation. His deferring to the police officers was either a demonstration of his respect, or a sign that his frustration was beyond his control, causing him to give up. Rena hoped it was the first one.
Officer Dougherty nodded before looking back at Rena. “So, you went there to show them this tree. What happened after that?”
Rena recounted the afternoon’s events, all the way up to their running back inside the city. She was careful to put all the details in chronological order so she wouldn’t get in any more trouble than she already was. By the time she finished, Clarine had her hand over her mouth and tears in her eyes. Marshall was massaging his forehead.
Officer Dougherty glanced up from his report and nodded for the hundredth time. “It looks like another unit is just finishing up at the scene. They found blood from the assailants, but no weapon. Do you have the knife?”
“Yes, sir.”
“RENA!” Clarine said.
Marshall didn’t bother restraining her this time. He seemed just as shocked, turning away from the conversation and putting both hands on his hips.
“Get it, please,” Dougherty said.
Rena walked down the hall and into her bedroom. As she reached under the mattress, she could hear Marshall talking to Officer Dougherty.
“Who were these people?”
“Outliers, most likely. It’s getting worse every year.”
“But why would they need credits?” Clarine asked.
“Ma’am,” said Officer Naylor, finally joining the conversation. “Unfortunately, there are people in our community who give their purchased goods away in exchange for stolen credits. It undermines our entire economy.”
Rena realized she had forgotten to tell them that the assailants had ratings. They were citizens, not Outliers.
“If this upsets you as much as it does us,” Officer Dougherty added, “I would encourage you to get involved in public safety matters. Our hands are tied unless we get the support we need to address these concerns. Most citizens don’t want to think about it until something like this happens.”
“Yes, of course. We’ll do that,” Marshall said.
Rena walked back down the hall and handed the knife to Officer Dougherty. She was about to tell him the missing detail about the assailants when her dad interrupted.
“Is this going to affect our ratings?”
Dougherty inspected the knife before handing it to his partner. “Naylor. We’re almost done here. Why don’t you wait outside for me?”
Officer Naylor nodded before stepping out and shutting the front door.
When he was gone, Officer Dougherty turned to Rena’s parents. “Unfortunately, the incident this afternoon will reflect negatively on your ratings. I’m sure you’re well aware that having a weapon of any kind is illegal. However, since your daughter turned over the knife, I’ll consider that when submitting my report.”
Marshall nodded.
“Thank you,” Clarine said.
Officer Dougherty looked down at Rena. “My recommendation … stay away from the Barrens. Don’t even go to the Outskirts. It’s not safe anymore. If you need a place to exercise, stick to the commons. That’s what it’s for.”
“Yes, sir.”
Dougherty smiled. “Mr. and Mrs. Waite. Thank you for your time.”
“Yes. Thank you, Officer,” Marshall said, opening the door for him.
Dougherty joined Naylor on the front walkway and the two headed toward the street.
Marshall closed the door and let out the breath he’d been holding.
Clarine turned to Rena. “Sit down,” she said, motioning to the couch in the living room.
Rena had hoped to escape a lecture, but it looked like that wasn’t going to happen. She took a seat on the couch and waited while her parents paced in front of her, deciding what to say.
“First of all,” Clarine began, “we’re relieved that you weren’t hurt by those men. They could have taken a lot more than credits.”
Marshall nodded. “That’s right.”
“I know,” Rena said.
“And if something ever happened …” Clarine added, but her words got stuck in her throat.
Marshall took the opportunity to move the conversation away from such grim thoughts. “Rena, you’re going to be seventeen in just a few months. And then you’ll only have a year before your conversion.”
Every citizen was given a rating at birth. One to one hundred. A percentile in relation to everyone else in Esh. At the age of six, that rating converted to monetary credits that were immediately available for use. Six-year-olds didn’t need to buy anything, but they still needed to learn the concept of credit responsibility. So their conversion rate was one-to-one. One credit for every rating point. At age twelve, the conversion rate became one-to-one hundred. At age eighteen, it was one-to-one thousand. That was the stage at which a citizen was considered an adult, and if one was responsible, he or she would have already have been working for a few years to save up credits for the big conversion.
“You’re old enough to make your own decisions,” Marshall continued. “And most of the time you’re fairly responsible. But then you have these … incidents.”
Clarine jumped in as if this whole speech had been choreographed. “Your father and I don’t put many expectations on you, but we’re very disappointed right now. You know you shouldn’t be going out to the Barrens. You’re so much smarter than that.”
“It’s not illegal,” Rena replied. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them.
“That’s what I’m talking about … right there,” Marshall said, his voice getting louder. “Just because something’s legal doesn’t mean it’s good for you to do. You need to start thinking in terms of positives and negatives. Before you do anything, ask yourself if it could raise or lower your rating. That’s what it means to be an adult. And if you don’t learn that now, you’re in for a struggle the rest of your life.”
A loud crash sounded from the kitchen.
“Mom?!” Gareth yelled. “Suzanne spilled.”
“Hold on,” Clarine replied, walking a few steps toward the kitchen.
“I’ll tell you one thing,” Marshall said, like nothing had happened, “you’re not hanging out with Dal anymore.”
“Dad! Dal had nothing to do with this.”
“I’m serious. When you two get together, you get into trouble. He’s a bad influence on you, and I don’t want you associated with him anymore.”
> Rena got up from the couch. “That’s not true! If anything, I’m a bad influence on him.”
“Really? What’s he rated?”
Rena looked down at the 013 on her hand. Dal was rated 011, but she didn’t want to say it. A person’s number didn’t necessarily mean they were a good or bad influence.
Marshall raised his eyebrows as if to say, “I told you so.”
Clarine continued into the kitchen to deal with Suzanne’s mess.
Rena stood in the living room with her hands balled into fists. She didn’t care what Marshall said. She was never going to stop hanging out with Dal. He was her best friend. She thought back to that first day in school, right after her adoption, when everything was new and strange. She’d felt so out of place. Alone. Then Dal came up and introduced himself. He said he lived down the street and asked if she wanted to play. That’s when Rena recognized him as the boy who’d stared at her when she first arrived at Marshall and Clarine’s house. He’d been there from the beginning. Her first friend. She wouldn’t give that up if the Founders themselves were alive and standing in this living room, ordering her to do it.
Clarine came back from the kitchen, drying her hands on a towel. Marshall was still pacing. They made eye contact for a second before Clarine eased back into the conversation. “What I’m most concerned about is what you did to those men.”
Rena unclenched her fists. The comment was so unexpected she didn’t know how to respond. “What?”
Clarine came a step closer and took Rena’s hand. “Do you remember Dr. Mallory?”
“Yeah?”
“That first year after we brought you home, you got in several fights at school. We took you to