"So what happens if Claire is a Codie?" I asked Vince on the way out of the amphitheater. Eva had released us for a forty minute break while Claire met with all the division leaders to prep for the climax of today: her division placement.

"They'd bring her here with a lot of style, Eva'd probably send a car and stuff. There'd be a huge party tonight, with music and food and everything. Having a new member of the core team is a big deal for a WGO division."

"I see, and you say she's probably going to join us?" 

"Her level allows it, and she seems smart enough to choose the best division. I doubt the Chair would disagree, so yes, she'll most likely be a Codie." 

"What exactly is the Chair? I've heard a lot of people talking about it."

"The Chair is Eva's Code masterpiece, the data it contains is so vast that the super computers of the non-Glitch world couldn't even begin to process it. At first glance, it looks just like an ordinary wicker chair, but it's so much more. 

You know from experience that the appropriate division for a non-Glitch is determined simply from his or her Code, but how do you manage the placement of a Glitch who has no Code?  The Chair is the answer. It goes deeper than the Code to analyze the brain itself, and all you have to do is sit in it! 

The way it works is similar to a search engine, except instead of key words, it uses key traits. It's programmed with the key traits necessary for a good Codie, Cookie, Speedie, or Sloppie, and it uses Code to probe the Glitch's brain for these key traits and puts them together to form an accurate result for them."

"That's pretty cool," I nodded, though just like usual when I was talking to a Codie, I didn't understand most of what he said. 

"So the Chair's placement is final, like, even if that isn't what she ends up wanting?" 

"Yes," Vince responded. "The Chair is the most accurate way of measuring a Glitch's personality as it thinks like a human except without human bias and opinion. Disobeying it would only mean disaster."

"How so?" This was getting interesting.

"Well, a few years ago, this girl named Kelly- you saw her in the theater for Claire's first test- was chosen to be a Sloppie by the Chair. She made a huge, whiny fuss about it, refused to work, and basically annoyed everyone to death, so Amanda let her be a Cookie like she wanted. After the way she wrecked Cookietown, Amanda's never done that again. Now, nobody questions the Chair.

"I see..." I smiled. "So Claire could end up stuck with a terrible job for the rest of her life and not be able to do anything about it? I'm liking that idea." 

"Well, technically, she could," Vince laughed. "But her level makes it highly unlikely." 

"Awwwww." 

"Hey, having her around won't be too bad. She'd be a member of the core team, so you could completely avoid her if you wanted to." 

"Okay," I said as we came to the end of the wide sidewalk where Glitches and regulars alike were cramming into line at the concession stand. 

"We should probably avoid that area," I pointed to the huge mob of kids fighting over hot dogs and soda as they rattled the poor little cart so hard it threatened to tip over. 

"Yeah," said Vince as we headed over to an empty bench a few yards away from the stand. 

"Want some drinks?" It was Kelly, the Sloppie girl. She held out three sweating cans of Coke. 

"Thanks!" I beamed, getting ready to grab one. The second I reached out, Vince's hand clamped over mine. 

"We don't take stuff from Sloppies," he spat. 

"What's your problem? I'm thirsty!" I protested. 

"There are some unspoken rules here you have to follow whether you like it or not," Vince hissed in my ear. "Rule number one: Sloppies are beneath you. Don't talk to them, don't go near them, and if they drop something, don't pick it up."

Just as I nodded in agreement, I heard a booming announcement from a speaker hanging from a nearby tree. 

"Members of WGO, please return to the amphitheater for the conclusion of the ceremony." 

"So this is it, huh? The moment of truth," Vince beamed. 

"Yup," I stood up and began to jog back along the path. It was show time.