Ada parked near Dorrie's house, across the street, but well within view. Mentally, she connected to the car's interface. Using invisible fingers, she reached in and grabbed until she found what she was looking for. Dorrie's personal connection flashed on her interface screen in seconds.

"Call Dorrie," she said to the interface.

"Dialing Dorrie."

A few intermittent sounds, and the call connected.

"Hello?" Dorrie sounded unsure.

"Hi there, Dore. Can I call ya Dore?"

An intake of breath. Rustling. "Uh, who is this?" He peeked out the front window of his house.

"Hey, it's me!" Ada waved wildly, smiling just as wildly even if he was too far off to see it. "We're old hospital pals."

Dorrie jumped back from the window. "What do you want now? Thanks to you, I'll be paying outta my ass for a long time."

Her sweet tone picked up a hard edge. "Thanks to me, your fat ass is alive. I can change that at any time." He whimpered in her ear, and she grinned. "Remember when I said I wanted you to tell me everything?"

"Yeah?"

"Tell me everything, right now, and I won't get out of this car. When we're done talking, I'll drive away. Simple."

His back was to her. She pictured him sweating, farting from stress, considering her offer. "I told you..."

"You told me nothing. Now I want specifics, and you're going to give them to me, or I'll join you in your living room."

Dorrie vanished from view, probably searching for an escape route. "What else do you wanna know?"

"What does the bastard do for a living?"

"Not sure." He sounded far-away.

As they spoke, Ada connected with Dorrie's interface, tapping into the GPS feature. On her screen, she saw a map of the surrounding area, and a green dot in the middle. The dot bounced around erratically, darting from the back of the house to an alley.

"Dore, our deal hinges on you staying put. Get out of the alley, go back home, and tell me what I need to know. You want me to stay in this car, right?"

Silence. Labored breathing. Then, "He's a politician."

The context of the comment took time to sink in. When Ada recovered, she asked, "What kind of politician?"

"Damnit, I don't know. A Senator, a Congressman. One of those. It's been years since we spoke, I told ya that last time," Dorrie said.

"So, he has money?"

Dorrie scoffed. "He's a Prominent. Of course he has money."

Now the silence was on Ada's end. The green dot went back and forth on the screen. Dorrie paced in his home, waiting on her answer.

The interface reminded her that it was 1:00pm. An hour before her shift.

"Dore, look out your window."

Slowly, he drew his curtain back to look at her car again. "Yes?"

Ada waved again. "You did good. I won't bother you again."

She drove off.

~ * ~

A thorough search of the Georgian database of politicians found nothing. Her father's name wasn't among the hundreds of Prominent servants. Either Dorrie had lied, or Corentin's name had changed. Local databases would provide her with more information, such as pictures, interface connections. She needed to be in Atlanta, and soon.

Before she left, she needed to stabilize Gemina's situation with the first payment. Though, if she gave away the five grand, the funds for her trip would also disappear. Being human, Ada debated briefly on her options. Finally, she decided on a solution to both issues and made her way to Tranquility.

Once there, she signed the documents necessary to secure her mother a new synth. Just as she predicted, the clerk asked for the initial payment of five thousand, almost as if the clerk knew that was all Ada had. The clerk thanked her for the money, and then congratulated her on her new and exciting purchase. Ada glared. Seconds after, the green wristlet on the clerk fizzled out, causing a slight burn. The clerk cried out and tore off the wristlet. During the distraction, Ada overrode her mother's account to reflect AMOUNT PAID IN FULL. She left the front office grinning.

It dawned on her that the scope of her powers was beyond her. If she could imagine it, she could try it. The more liberating fact was that she didn't need to bilk the bastard out of 6 million dollars. She didn't need anyone.

Grin still intact, Ada visited Gemina's room for the last time before her trip. She promised her mother all types of things, not going into much detail, as the cameras in the room were equipped with audio as well. In general, she promised to keep up the payments, to be careful on the road, and to come back when she could. All of her promises lacked conviction, but Gemina's eyes never opened, even though Ada expected her to suddenly sit up and call her out on the lies. Her head stayed on the pillow, curls framing her lined face. Ada blew her a kiss and left.

Her next stop was the ATM, though not the one she had used weeks before. Her first theft had been successful, but that didn't mean someone hadn't been watching, or listening. A second theft required a second venue.

She parked a block away from the new ATM, walking the rest of the way. Orange beams of sunlight danced on the pavement, providing little warmth in the chill of morning. At the machine, a tree blocked the sun entirely, and in the shade, the temperature dropped significantly. Shaking, and not just from the cold, Ada approached the kiosk. The overrides and tricks she slipped into the machine's wires worked just as they had the last time, and the money seemed to appear quickly. She shoved the money in a small bag attached to her wrist and turned to walk back to her car.

"Hey!" Someone had seen her. Ada didn't stop walking. She kept going, fully aware she should have parked closer or devised an alternate route to the car.

"Mrs. Freyr!" Someone called out her name, their quick footsteps sounding with the call.

When she faced the stranger, she released a sigh. It was just Edwin, a former student of hers. He stood not a foot from her, panting for breath, his red hair covering his eyes. Like most children, he carried a red State handbook in one hand and a gun on his hip. She couldn't tell if it was plastic, or real, but from the shine of it, she supposed it was real.

"Yes, Edwin?" She smoothed down her hair and cursed internally. The disguise she had purchased had been left behind in the car. Stupid.

"Where'd you go? You teachin' at another school?" He flicked the hair from his face with one grubby hand.

"Uh, no. I'm no longer teaching." She glanced down the street past Edwin, fearing the appearance of Staties.

He ignored her disinterest and smiled wide. "Really? Maybe I can teach you somethin'." He opened the red handbook to a random page, pointing at a random passage. "What does statute 24A dictate of all citizens?"

Statute 24A. No one citizen knew every statute by heart. Edwin's question was a trick, a game students played, mostly with teachers, and the game always ended with someone getting hurt. The State never arrested the young citizens for their violent antics, citing the game as duty of the next generation. As a result of the game, it was common to watch a student beat a teacher to death.

Edwin waited for an answer. This is absurd, he's not going to touch me. The hand not holding the State book hovered over his gun, and her surety vanished.

"I know this one." She held up a finger, buying the minute or more she needed to search the online Prominent databases.

Her mind connected with her wristlet, attempting to access a larger set of information. So many statutes, and all coded by severity of action. It would take hours to sift through and find the correct statute. Even using her powers, the child would get the best of her. If she raised a hand in defense, or impulsively zapped him, she would lose. He would report her, and her status would launch from anonymous to Undesirable, a punishable status.

Her only option was to hope Edwin used the butt of his gun, and not the barrel end once he decided to begin her punishment. Ada closed her eyes and waited. Energy from her hands crackled, but she held them behind her back, intent on not showing her abilities.

"Do you know or don't you?" His small voice dripped with cruelty beyond his age.

"Statute 24A dictates that every citizen registers their acquisition of a Clean and Clear," a soft-spoken woman said.

Ada recognized her mother's friend from the hospital, standing next to her as if she'd been there the whole time.

Edwin verified the woman's answer, a frown twisting his freckled lips. "That's right." He waved the gun in Ada's direction. "Maybe I'll see ya later, Mrs. Freyr."

She flashed a strained smile and wheeled away toward the direction of her car.

The woman called out, "Please be careful, dear!" Ada paused, and went back to the scene of the near-beating. The woman was gone.

"Damnit." She searched, but the sidewalk was empty. Every surrounding street appeared as empty, save for little Edwin skipping like he needed to be nowhere in particular. Hope the shit skips right into a Statie. Unwarranted physical contact with a Statie might result in sanctions, or a shot to the head depending on their mood.

On the brisk walk to the car, Ada found the woman waiting in an alley. She nodded to Ada, who shrugged and joined her. The woman had a non-threatening appearance, with gray eyes to match her gray hair. She didn't fit Sammie criteria, as she let her age show. Only Tramps and N.A.'s neglected their wrinkles.

Ada decided not to hold off zapping the woman into compliance. Whether or not she continued to depended on the woman's answers. She stopped a few feet away from the woman. "You know my mother?"

"Yes, I do. Hello, I'm Cybil." She held out a hand, but Ada didn't shake it. "Your mother and I met during our Amnesty meetings. She's told me lots about you."

"Lots, huh?" She crossed her arms. Out of habit, she checked the sky for passing o-planes.

"They're not watching right now, at least, not this exact spot. We have another ten minutes," Cybil said.

The fact the woman knew what Ada was looking for meant she knew way too much. She could be a State agent in training.

Cybil continued talking, ignoring the uninviting gaze Ada gave her. "You're worried about someone looking after her while you're gone, but I promise you, I'll take care of Gemina."

"What? How do you...?" Ada shook her head. "Have you been following me?"

"Not really, no. I knew where you'd go after the hospital." Cybil's gaze held steady.

"How could you know that?"

Cybil had to be crazy. All her mother's friends over the years had been crazy. Gemina drew crazy in, unaware that no one else wanted to befriend nutzo's.

"I know things, like how I knew to come to this part of town and recite Statute 24A at that exact moment. Just like I know the man you'll be traveling with isn't being entirely honest." At this, Ada's breath caught, but she didn't interrupt. "My talent is knowing things. I'm a Special, like you. Your mom said you had a talent and could fix any piece of tech," Cybil drew in a slight breath, "even without touching it."

Gemina had been aware of Ada's abilities. They never spoke about them, but obviously her mother knew if she went blabbing to her friend. Kressick probably knew, too. He must be hiding other tidbits behind his unmarred face.

"What's a Special?"

"What the State calls people like us. You don't really hear of the term because when they find us, they take us."

Ada considered this as she rubbed her hands together, a cascade of blue lines flickering along the surface of her skin. "Okay, so you know things, and you wanna help me with my mom. Why didn't you help her before they took her heart back? Warn her?"

Cybil's stance never wavered. "I tried to warn your mother, but the pictures in my head don't always end up the way I think they will. I'm sorry nothing worked the way it was supposed to. I wanna help you because I hate what they did to my family."

The they didn't have to be explained. It was the first time her voice wavered, and Ada was reminded of when Cybil spoke with Kressick at the hospital, with strong looks and sweeping gestures. The two Cybils were distinctly different.

"My daughter is Special, like you, but in a different way. She knows things, much more than I ever could, and she couldn't control it. A citizen turned her in, and I haven't seen her in a year. Iwas forced to attend Amnesty, to prove my love of the State." Tears coated her eyes, making them larger and more beautiful.

A powerful daughter like you. Only she's gone, August told her.

If Cybil hadn't intervened, Ada might have ended up zapping Edwin into next week, which would've prompted an investigation. Nutzo though she was, Gemina trusted her. So Ada would, too.

"You're right. I am worried about my mom, and if you watch her while I'm gone, it'd help me out a lot." She stumbled over the words—she had lost the knack for speaking in kindness.

"Of course." Cybil made a move as if to pat her on the shoulder, but stopped short, and smiled.

~*~

A/N: If you like the story so far, make a habit of clicking the tiny star. You'll be glad you did.