second-youngest,
and anyway the dad was in jail, and the mom was on drugs, so the kids were sent all
over the place. I think one went to his aunt and uncle, and his two sisters were sent
to some foster home, and then they were abducted from there. I guess there was some
doubt if they were, you know, given or sold to the murderers.”
“The what?” Mae had gone limp.
“Oh god, they were raped and kept in closets and their bodies were dropped down some
kind of abandoned missile silo. I mean, it was the worst story ever. He told a bunch
of us about it when he was pitching this child safety program. Shit, look at your
face. I shouldn’t have said all this.”
Mae couldn’t speak.
“It’s important that you know,” Josef said. “This is why he’s so passionate. I mean,
his plan would pretty much eliminate the possibility of anything like this ever happening
again. Wait. What time is it?”
Annie checked her phone. “You’re right. We gotta scoot. Bailey’s doing an unveiling.
We should be in the Great Hall.”
The Great Hall was in the Enlightenment, and when they entered the venue, a 3,500-seat
cavern appointed in warm woods and brushed steel, it was loud with anticipation. Mae
and Annie found one of the last pairs of seats in the second balcony and sat down.
“Just finished this a few months ago,” Annie said. “Forty-five million dollars. Bailey
modeled the stripes off the Duomo in Siena. Nice, right?”
Mae’s attention was pulled to the stage, where a man was walking to a lucite podium,
amid a roar of applause. He was a tall man of about forty-five, round in the gut but
not unhealthy, wearing jeans and blue V-neck sweater. There was no discernible microphone,
but when he began speaking, his voice was amplified and clear.
“Hello everyone. My name is Eamon Bailey,” he said, to another round of applause that
he quickly discouraged. “Thank you. I’m so glad to see you all here. A bunch of you
are new to the company since I last spoke, one whole month ago. Can the newbies stand
up?” Annie nudged Mae. Mae stood, and looked around the auditorium to see about sixty
other people standing, most of them her age, all of them seeming shy, all of them
quietly stylish, together representing every race and ethnicity and, thanks to the
Circle’s efforts to ease permits for international staffers, a dizzying range of national
origins. The clapping from the rest of the Circlers was loud, a sprinkling of whoops
mixed in. She sat down.
“You’re so cute when you blush,” Annie said.
Mae sunk into her seat.
“Newbies,” Bailey said, “you’re in for something special. This is called Dream Friday,
where we present something we’re working on. Often it’s one of our engineers or designers
or visionaries, and sometimes it’s just me. And today, for better or for worse, it’s
just me. For that I apologize in advance.”
“We love you Eamon!” came a voice from the audience. Laughter followed.
“Well thank you,” he said, “I love you back. I love you as the grass loves the dew,
as the birds love a bough.” He paused briefly, allowing Mae to catch her breath. She’d
seen these talks online, but being here, in person, seeing Bailey’s mind at work,
hearing his off-the-cuff eloquence—it was better than she thought possible. What would
it be like, she thought, to be someone like that, eloquent and inspirational, so at
ease in front of thousands?
“Yes,” he continued, “it’s been a whole month since I’ve gotten up on this stage,
and I know my replacements have been unsatisfying. I am sorry to deprive you of myself.
I realize there is no substitute.” The joke brought laughter throughout the hall.
“And I know a lot of you have been wondering just where the heck I’ve been.”
A voice from the front of the room yelled “surfing!” and the room laughed.
“Well, that’s right. I have been doing some surfing, and
and anyway the dad was in jail, and the mom was on drugs, so the kids were sent all
over the place. I think one went to his aunt and uncle, and his two sisters were sent
to some foster home, and then they were abducted from there. I guess there was some
doubt if they were, you know, given or sold to the murderers.”
“The what?” Mae had gone limp.
“Oh god, they were raped and kept in closets and their bodies were dropped down some
kind of abandoned missile silo. I mean, it was the worst story ever. He told a bunch
of us about it when he was pitching this child safety program. Shit, look at your
face. I shouldn’t have said all this.”
Mae couldn’t speak.
“It’s important that you know,” Josef said. “This is why he’s so passionate. I mean,
his plan would pretty much eliminate the possibility of anything like this ever happening
again. Wait. What time is it?”
Annie checked her phone. “You’re right. We gotta scoot. Bailey’s doing an unveiling.
We should be in the Great Hall.”
The Great Hall was in the Enlightenment, and when they entered the venue, a 3,500-seat
cavern appointed in warm woods and brushed steel, it was loud with anticipation. Mae
and Annie found one of the last pairs of seats in the second balcony and sat down.
“Just finished this a few months ago,” Annie said. “Forty-five million dollars. Bailey
modeled the stripes off the Duomo in Siena. Nice, right?”
Mae’s attention was pulled to the stage, where a man was walking to a lucite podium,
amid a roar of applause. He was a tall man of about forty-five, round in the gut but
not unhealthy, wearing jeans and blue V-neck sweater. There was no discernible microphone,
but when he began speaking, his voice was amplified and clear.
“Hello everyone. My name is Eamon Bailey,” he said, to another round of applause that
he quickly discouraged. “Thank you. I’m so glad to see you all here. A bunch of you
are new to the company since I last spoke, one whole month ago. Can the newbies stand
up?” Annie nudged Mae. Mae stood, and looked around the auditorium to see about sixty
other people standing, most of them her age, all of them seeming shy, all of them
quietly stylish, together representing every race and ethnicity and, thanks to the
Circle’s efforts to ease permits for international staffers, a dizzying range of national
origins. The clapping from the rest of the Circlers was loud, a sprinkling of whoops
mixed in. She sat down.
“You’re so cute when you blush,” Annie said.
Mae sunk into her seat.
“Newbies,” Bailey said, “you’re in for something special. This is called Dream Friday,
where we present something we’re working on. Often it’s one of our engineers or designers
or visionaries, and sometimes it’s just me. And today, for better or for worse, it’s
just me. For that I apologize in advance.”
“We love you Eamon!” came a voice from the audience. Laughter followed.
“Well thank you,” he said, “I love you back. I love you as the grass loves the dew,
as the birds love a bough.” He paused briefly, allowing Mae to catch her breath. She’d
seen these talks online, but being here, in person, seeing Bailey’s mind at work,
hearing his off-the-cuff eloquence—it was better than she thought possible. What would
it be like, she thought, to be someone like that, eloquent and inspirational, so at
ease in front of thousands?
“Yes,” he continued, “it’s been a whole month since I’ve gotten up on this stage,
and I know my replacements have been unsatisfying. I am sorry to deprive you of myself.
I realize there is no substitute.” The joke brought laughter throughout the hall.
“And I know a lot of you have been wondering just where the heck I’ve been.”
A voice from the front of the room yelled “surfing!” and the room laughed.
“Well, that’s right. I have been doing some surfing, and
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