The Toll (Arc of a Scythe) - Neal Shusterman Page 0,17

if somehow everyone was complicit in the crime. So now the Grandslayers were gone, the Thunderhead was irked, and Loriana was out of a job.

Reevaluating one’s life was not something easily accomplished. She moved back in with her parents and spent a great deal of time doing a whole lot of nothing. There was employment everywhere – free training and education for any profession. The problem wasn’t finding a career path, it was finding something she actually wanted to do.

Weeks passed in what would have been despair but was dialed down to melancholy by her emotional nanites. Even so, that melancholy was deep and pervasive. She was not accustomed to idle, unproductive time and was completely unprepared for being cast into the winds of an uncertain future. Yes, everyone in the world was subject to those winds now, but at least others had jobs to tether them to the familiar. Routines to keep their Thunderhead-free lives in some semblance of order. All Loriana had was time to dwell on things. It was overwhelming.

At her parents’ behest, she had gone in to get her nanites tweaked in order to raise her spirits – because not even melancholy could be tolerated these days – but the line was too long. Loriana could not abide waiting, so she left.

“Only unsavories wait in line,” she told her parents when she got back, referring to the way the Thunderhead organized the AI’s Office of Unsavory Affairs – with intentional inefficiency. Only after she said it, did the obvious occur to her. She, herself, was unsavory. Did that mean that pointless lines and horrendous waits were now going to be the norm? It brought her to tears, which in turn made her parents more insistent that she go back to have her nanites tweaked.

“We know things are different for you now, but it’s not the end of the world, honey,” her parents had told her. Yet for some strange reason, she thought that it might be.

And then a month after the world went unsavory, her former boss showed up at their door. Loriana assumed it was just a courtesy call. Clearly it couldn’t be about rehiring her, since her boss had been laid off along with all the other agents. Even their old offices were gone. According to the news, construction crews had shown up at Authority Interface headquarters throughout the world to convert the buildings into apartments and recreation centers.

“The work order just showed up,” said a construction foreman on the news report. “And we’re happy to do whatever the Thunderhead wants!” Work orders, supply requisitions, and the like were the closest thing anyone had to communication with the Thunderhead anymore. Those who received them were to be envied.

Her boss had been the head of the Fulcrum City office. Loriana was the only junior agent to be working with Director Hilliard. If nothing else, it looked nice on the résumé Loriana never sent out.

How she had become the director’s personal assistant was less about her abilities and more about her personality. Bubbly some might call it, although others would call it annoying.

“You’re perpetually cheerful,” Director Hilliard had told her when she offered Loriana the position. “There’s not enough of that around here.”

That was true – Nimbus agents were not known for their sparkling personalities. She did her best to liven things up and see many a miserable glass as half-full, which, more often than not, irked the other agents. Well, that was their problem. Loriana suspected that Director Hilliard took guilty pleasure in seeing her subordinates rankled on a regular basis by Loriana’s positive penchants. Although these many weeks without a thing to do, and no prospects for the future, had popped most of her bubbles, leaving her about as flat as any other Nimbus agent.

“I have a job for you,” Director Hilliard said. “Actually, more than a job,” she corrected. “More like a mission.”

Loriana was thrilled – the first positive thing she had felt since the Authority Interface had been shuttered.

“I have to warn you,” Director Hilliard said. “This mission will involve some travel.”

And although Loriana was much more skilled in staying put, she knew this might be the only opportunity she’d have in the foreseeable future.

“Thank you so much!” Loriana said, vigorously shaking her boss’s hand long past the point where most others would have stopped.

And now, two weeks later, she was out in the middle of the ocean on a tuna long-liner that wasn’t doing any fishing, but still reeked of its