It was a typical Woodley cocktail party on the lawn beside the pool except for the group of protesters on the street outside the perimeter fence. From her place on the back porch, Celeste looked out at nearly fifty friends, each person wearing a red dot pin. She felt like she had found her calling: she was raising up her community. Marked people are the leaders we’ve been waiting for, she told herself, before tapping her glass to get everyone’s attention.
“I asked you all here not just because I like you—which I do—you guys are my friends; some of you are in the Action Committee with me; you put up with my fussiness. Today, I want to let you all in on a venture I’m supporting. Let me begin with a question for you smart people out there: would you bet on an athlete with strong genes for their sport who just needed training or on one that had trained hard but was built wrong—a short basketball player, a musclebound pole vaulter. I know what smart coaches do. I know what I’d do: I’d invest in some training for that kid with the right genes.
“I look out at all of you and I can make the same easy decision. Every one of us has been successful in our own pursuits. It’s in our genes! Look at us! Marked people are the leaders we’ve been waiting for.”
Celeste pointed to her friend standing a few feet away. “Jackie. You manage the real estate portfolio of the biggest landowner in Northern California. Do you think you got that job because they thought you looked like a nice type and would work real hard? Well you are a nice type, but that isn’t why you got your job. You had a track record. You delivered results. You worked hard and you were smart. It came naturally to you because it was in your genes to be that person.
“How about you, Don? Wait. Let me check my notes, here…” Celeste examined her tablet as if for the first time, “… on an app your company makes.”
Don waved her off.
“Don’t be modest, Don. Everyone uses an app your company makes. And how did you break through? You think it must have been luck? The idea just came to you out of thin air,” she said, snapping her fingers in punctuation, “and you turned it into a huge success. As easy as pie. Like it was second nature to you… because it was! Success is second nature to anyone who is Marked.”
She swung her finger around at the crowd, “Now, I want to give you a chance to leverage your success—and create more success for yourselves while supporting companies run by Marked people. People just like you. People you would meet in a golf foursome and tell yourself, ‘These people have smarts.’ Marked companies are the innovators who will revolutionize how we live on this planet. And I’m giving you a chance to invest in innovation.
“I’m working with a venture firm called Twin Sister. You may have heard of it, or its founder, Lucius Kellogg.” She smiled and nodded her head to people out on the lawn. “You know him. I see the smiles,” she acknowledged as if sharing a confidence. “Twin Sister will be seeking investors for some hand picked Marked start-ups. It will be your chance to get in on the ground floor, pave the way for innovation… and help the planet. I can provide you with a prospectus on Twin Sister and our portfolio anytime you’re interested. Just come say hi.” She raised her glass in a symbolic toast with a knowing smile.
“And now I want to give you a preview of the type of advances you’ll fund.” She turned to Jim, who handed her a slender piece of wire. Celeste carefully grasped the two discs and slid them over her temples. “This,” she proclaimed, “is the invention that will change how cities function, how people work and communicate, how we interact with all the machines and devices in our lives. No more tablets, just a lightweight little accessory. Remember glasses? We never thought twice about putting them on our faces—and all they did was give us better eyesight; this innovation gives you vision. And it’s more of a fashion statement, if you ask me.” Celeste smiled, winked, and vamped for the crowd, letting the light glint off the metal band looking like a technological halo. “Who wants to come up and try it on?”
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A developer friend, Beau, and his wife, Dana stepped to the front. Jim held out a band to Celeste.
“I’ll start with Dana and you can all learn how this works.” Celeste took the band and placed it on Dana’s head. “There, now give it a second. It’s reading your biometrics and matching them to your Telmara test results. “Do you feel the little tingle?”
Dana nodded.
“Now, let’s get a boy set for Beau.” Jim complied with another band. Celeste went through the same motions with Beau. Then she turned the two of them to face the crowd of guests like contestants in a beauty pageant. “Don’t they look amazing? We’re going to call them ThreadBands. This is going to change the world, folks.” Then, turning to the couple she added, “You two wear those for a while. Just walk around like normal and pay attention to the glass and to the little voice in your ear. You can ask it questions—just whisper and it’ll give you the answer.”
Turning back to the rest of her guests, Celeste announced, “I have 18 more of these prototypes. Who else wants to test one out?” To her great pleasure, people lined-up right away. She and Jim and Chaz and Nichole stood side-by-side, slipping the ThreadBands across forehead after forehead.
“Now, all of you go and play… and pay attention.”
Beau and Dana soon returned. He looked like a college football player who had just won the big game. He smiled bright and toothy. “You always get in the middle of things, don’t you, Celeste.”
“Well I just can’t help myself. Doesn’t it sound like a strong idea—putting money behind some new thinking? I think so. Are you having fun with it?”
“Yeah. It’s funny,” began Dana. “We both got a little message that suggested we come back and talk to you.”
Celeste laughed. “Yes, you should always do what it says! Actually, Logisen is going to roll these out to a group of alphas for a beta test. We want really handsome, successful people to be the first to be seen wearing ThreadBands. You want to be in on it?”
Dana jumped at the chance. “Of course! I think it’s got potential. So, are you working for Kellogg?”
“I’m helping out.”
Beau laughed. “You mean you get paid in shares, right?” Celeste laughed too. Just then, a chant made itself known from the protesters outside.
Dana looked toward the front of the house. “Rowdy group, out there, Celeste. Do you have someone watching them in case we have to call the police?”
Beau added, “Yeah, you know they egged the auton that brought us in.”
Celeste pursed her lips. “I thought something would happen. Some of them even live in this community. I wouldn’t put it past them to throw rocks. Mongrels. They’re the people who scarred Chaz. I’m glad we could fix him up. It could have been worse. I just hate Earthers.” Then Celeste smiled with a brilliant idea. “Listen, ask the ThreadBand what the crowd is like outside.” Beau asked, then quickly responded that the crowd was growing but orderly and suggested he check back in twenty minutes.
“See?” smiled Celeste. “A world of knowledge at your command, and you don’t have to lift a finger.”
Outside the Woodley’s the crowd had grown—a lot of curious neighbors along with a group of community activists, some of whom were the egg-throwers. Some stood in a face-off with the security guards, but most talked casually in groups or strolled through the gathering.
Inside the perimeter, the party continued on, with people alternating their attention between the hors d’oeuvres and wine and ThreadBands. Celeste circulated, to be sure everyone was having a good time, while asking how people liked their ThreadBand.
David, an old friend who lived up the street, replied. “You know, Celeste. This is crazy, but the thingamajig flashed me a message to go talk to this guy, Adam…”
“Adam Wales? He’s a great guy.”
“Yeah, he is. He looked at me and asked ‘Are you David?’ And he went to the same university as me and we know a few of the same people. It was great to meet him. I think I’m liking this idea,” he said, gesturing to the ThreadBand.
‘Me too,” answered Celeste and patted him on the shoulder.