He turned the tablet toward me, and the contract came up on the screen. “No telling anyone about your ability, no using your ability in front of Norms, no allowing anyone to guess that you have an ability. Outside this Compound you must act, look, and speak as though you are Normal. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Palm here.”
I pressed my palm onto the screen and waited while the computer assessed me. I tried to even my breathing and heart rate to let the computer see that I was being truthful in my pledge to keep the Compound’s secrets. That the Tower had nothing to fear from me.
“If you break these rules, the consequences can be as severe as a complete memory wipe.”
I nodded. I figured they were just saying these things to scare me. Would they seriously perform a complete memory wipe just for telling someone about the Compound?
“Okay then.” He smiled now. For the first time. It seemed out of place on his face. “The Norm refresher course is two doors to the left. Please return here when you’re finished.”
By the time the class was done, my head felt full of jumbled-together facts. I tried to prioritize them, shifting the unimportant ones to the back of my mind—like how to work a vending machine and public restroom paper towel dispensers—so I’d remember the ones I needed, like how to open locks and turn on lights.
I walked back into the bare room where Agent Farley still sat at the metal table. He turned when the door opened. “All done?”
“I think so.”
“Good. I hope you found the class informative. It’s important that you blend in.”
“It was very informative. My lack of gumball machine skills might’ve given me away.”
Obviously not sensing my sarcasm, he nodded like he completely agreed with the statement. “Enjoy your time away, and don’t forget that without your card, entrance to the Compound is nearly impossible.”
“Okay.”
“Who accompanied you here today?”
“My mom.”
“And she will be leaving with you as well?”
“No. I’m going to see my dad.”
“Your father . . .” He glanced down at his tablet. “Bradley Coleman. Lives in Dallas, Texas.” He ran his finger sideways across the surface, scrolling through several screens. “So his memory of the Compound is still intact.”
“Yes, of course.”
He raised one eyebrow as though “of course” shouldn’t have been part of my statement.
“Do you . . . are there . . . a lot of memories Erased?”
“Only when promises are breached.”
That didn’t really answer my question, but it was apparent he wasn’t going to answer it anyway.
His finger continued across the surface of his tablet. “Just two immediate relatives have left the Compound then.”
I stood up straighter, craning my neck to look at the tablet. “Two?”
His finger paused on the screen, and he squinted a little. “No. My mistake. That’s a one. Just your father.”
“Right . . . exactly. My dad.”
He stood and shelved the clipboard with others like it. I stared at it for a moment before his single hand-clap drew my attention back to him.
“Okay then. Here’s your mind program, transferred to Norm-friendly tech.” He handed me a small, black, sticklike object. It looked like a hologram simulator. I must’ve had a confused look on my face, because he added, “It’s called a flash drive. You slide that white button forward, and it plugs into a laptop or computer. Not a television, though.”
I nodded. Really? The stupid video I watched earlier covered manual toilets but not flash drives?
“And here’s your backstory and some Norm history refreshers.” He pulled a fat orange envelope off the bookcase and handed it to me. “Memorize and stick to your backstory. It’s made especially for your scenario.”
“Okay.”
“I believe you’re set.”
My mom stood at the end of the hall, speaking to a man in a suit. Her body language registered irritation. Before I reached her, she turned and caught my eye, the tense expression on her face softening. By this time I was close enough to hear the man say, “Have a pleasant day.” His words didn’t match his tone.
When he walked away, I said, “Did you have to get interviewed too?”
“No.” She led the way toward the exit.
“What was that all about then?”
She gave a heavy sigh, and then her gaze flicked to the flash drive I still clutched in my hand. “I was just making sure they were allowing you to take your program, actually.”
“Oh.” I held it up. “Looks like they are.”
“Good.”
I pocketed the flash drive. “When’s the last time you left, Mom?”
“Wow, it’s been years.”
“Did they do the whole ‘scare you into silence’ back then?”
She smiled. “Yes.”
“It’s so dramatic.”
“They specialize in doom.”
“Is Dad the first one in our family to leave?”
She flinched slightly. I may not have even noticed if I hadn’t been looking for it. My mom’s parents lived about ten minutes from us, and my dad’s mom died five years ago and was buried in the cemetery downtown next to her husband, who passed when I was seven. My father and I still visited their graves once a year. Did my parents have siblings they weren’t telling me about? Maybe Scar-Face hadn’t slipped at all. Maybe it really was a number two on his screen.