The next month was busy, busy, busy! Stan seemed to be everywhere. He helped his fellow residents with math lessons they'd need for college. He tossed in a few college applications himself because that was what Good Citizens did, along with a few sincere applications to trade schools that might actually teach him something. His application essay (which Hal would see) was all about something called social justice. He played the hottest educational game for the prescribed two hours a week to learn about sharing, ignored the game while it was running so he could use a second window to rack up education credit in history, and posted enthusiastic comments of the prescribed 20-word minimum to literally every topic in the Community forum. He woke up early and helped the dorm cook even when it wasn't his turn, and if his contribution on those days consisted of clocking in and out five minutes later, that didn't matter. For his diet score he requested exactly the prescribed food items, ate what he wanted, and gave the rest away. He really had been lax about exercise, and put real effort into that to meet the exact "suggestions" and then some. He showed up at the next sing-along and movie night and always found an excuse to do some other score-boosting thing at the same time or leave early.

Hal called Stan into his office, a place where all the photos and furniture made perfect right angles. The Baron looked amused. "What's this about, Stan? Your score shot up but it's hollow."

"I'm doing the right things," said Stan.

"Come on. C-minus rank to suddenly A?"

"Actually I should be up to S territory at least temporarily, what with the improvement bonus."

"But you're not really putting in the hours. I saw you duck out of half the events, and that's cheating."

Stan stood straighter, imitating pictures he'd seen of soldiers with their hands clasped behind them, and suppressed a fierce grin. "No, sir. The rules say I need to show up and participate to get credit, and I did."

"But you're not participating in everything at once. Nobody can do that. You cheated your dorm-mates by not really doing all the cooking for one thing."

"I really did cook on my assigned days, and again, I contributed something on every day."

Hal rubbed his temples and sighed. "What are you trying to do? You're working yourself into the ground even with this half-job you're doing to get all the points. So what does that accomplish?"

"To be a model citizen, sir. Besides that there's extra scrip, days off when I want them, and a good chance at the school of my choice."

"Fair enough, but I can't give you full marks for my ten percent."

Stan tilted his head. "Why not?"

"You know darn well why. The point of the rules is..." He flipped through an inspirational desktop calendar and turned it one-eighty degrees to show a quote, and recited it without reading. 'SCS should point the way to having the rules inside you, so that you live by them. Not an external carrot and stick, but a way of life.'"

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

"And I'm doing that," said Stan, adding in deadpan, "Your carrot and stick are inside us all."

"I'm going to let whatever this is, slide for now, since you really are doing a good job in some areas. But you're not getting full marks from me."

Stan said, "I've read the rules for how those points should be assigned, sir. Positive relationships with fellow residents? A drive toward self-improvement? Listening to advice? I'm doing everything that's demanded of me and you just said I'm doing some good work."

The supervisor pulled his calendar back. "Is this just spite about the computer?"

"No, sir."

"Will you cut out the smart-alec behavior, then?"

"I intend to be a perfect citizen by the standards we're using, sir."

Hal stood up and turned away, shaking his head. "Get out." Stan was about to leave when Hal added, "Kid... What are you going to do with yourself when you get out to the real world and you're still trying to game the system?"

"I'll find other opportunities, sir."

#

Hal dinged him by one measly point for clocking in late one morning. Fair play, though it irked Stan. For at least the next month Stan had a mighty S-rank level of privileges, theoretically up there with Congressmen. Keeping his stats up had been exhausting so far. He'd made his point about the stupid rules; what could he do with them now?

He was still pondering when Baron Hal summoned him again, looking haggard. "Okay. So. How would you like to go on a trip to Washington to shake hands with politicians and pretend to write laws?"

"Doesn't sound like much fun."

The supervisor relaxed. "Well, Suzie does. She's excited. There's a contest this month, see, and we're sending whoever's got the highest score among you kids."

"I see," said Stan, forcing himself not to smile. Suzie was a bossy girl but basically decent, and she'd been excited about something this morning.

"Can I get you to slack off this month, then? Do it for her."

"I guess I could get distracted playing video games, if I had my stuff back."

Hal said, "What is it with you and this Tales game, anyway? It's a cult. A death cult."

Stan wanted to snap at the man about stealing his hard-earned computer, but curiosity overtook him. "Sir... I really don't mean to get you angry, but what happened between you and your sister?"

Hal looked ready to leap forward and pound Stan. Instead he gripped the edges of his desk, stared down for a moment with a faint shudder, and met Stan's eyes again. "Nosy kids today. Clementine and I had a disagreement. She got suckered in by the game's AI when uploading got announced, and went to work for her as a nurse. Which meant abandoning her homeland and her family."

"But why...?"

"None of your damn business, kid."

"Sorry." Stan shook his head. "I'm not involved with the larger problems of that game. I just played it and I think, earned some respect from one or two of the locals."

"Ugh. Just... Take it." Hal brought Stan's computer out of a filing cabinet and pushed it across the desk. "And don't let them talk you into anything."

#

Suzie found him in the cafeteria at dinner. She was still dressed in her soccer outfit after the evening's game, and her dark skin shined with sweat, which probably made her think she looked terrible. "The Baron told me," she said. With a forced smile she added, "I feel kind of patronized, but I appreciate it anyway."

Stan smiled back. "No problem. You're our real score champ anyway; I was overachieving to spite Hal. I gave it up half out of exhaustion."

She sat down across from him at a bench, with a healthy dinner on her tray. A patriotic poster loomed nearby. "And the other half?"

"Because I'd rather you win the DC trip. You'd have more fun with it."

"Fun, huh. You sound a little like the Thousand Tales evangelists. I heard Hal swiped your computer."

"I made him give it back."

Suzie giggled. "Ah, there's your real reason. Not that you like me or anything."

"Nope, totally not because you're smart and cute and ambitious. Better get at least an A this month or I'll win anyway."