Celeste liked the idea of riding the autonomous up the lane to the gate at the top of Belvedere Island, there to visit one of the most influential men in the world. “You’d never think he had power,” she giggled to herself as she looked around at the white mansion, the manicured lawns, and the colorful flowerbeds. She had come to report on her recruiting successes. She had leveraged her network nicely and her friends had ponied-up enough money to put several startups through initial funding, including the expansion of The Woodley School.
A doorman met her and led her through the mahogany-paneled foyer to the library, where Kellogg awaited her. He stood when she entered and walked over to shake her hand. “I know you have come to tell me good news,” he smiled graciously. “Compliments travel fast and I hear you have brought me the investors I sought… and congratulations on The Woodley School funding.”
Celeste smiled modestly. She was truly flattered by Kellogg’s compliments. “This is what I do, when I believe in a cause.”
Kellogg chuckled and gestured for her to take a seat in an ample armchair. “And I want you to appreciate the cause you are helping.” He lumbered back to the chair behind his desk. “We are in a crusade, not a powerful one, yet, but one that will help all Marked people join together, join in a utopia of our own creation.”
“What is that utopia?” she asked, suddenly remembering her childhood fantasy of rummaging through peoples’ vacant houses.
“Cooperation. Where Marked people can be free to be their best… and unmarked can work in support of us in safety and security.”
“Tell me this is not going to protect them. Tell me this will help Marked people put Earthers in prison or drive them out of our country.”
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Kellogg looked surprised. “We don’t have to subjugate anyone. This isn’t about taking over territory or population. That’s destructive. Destruction wastes money. We don’t want to disrupt the nature of things. We want the unmarked to feel secure and to work hard to gain the things we will make available to them. If they feel secure, we will be secure. This is about ensuring the rise of Marked leaders within Earthling societies—completely invisible yet guaranteed in our supremacy because we Marked will work together through this device.” He gestured to the ThreadBand on his desk. “It will be no different than the way you built The Woodley School—Marked leaders, working together for their own vision.”
“But Marked people will still have self-determination…”
“We don’t need to coerce Marked people into obedience; with the headpieces we can simply advise their free will. Get them to cooperate and coordinate when we need them to. And they won’t object; they will continue to be successful, happy, and secure.”
...
The NASA Administrator looked into the mirror and carefully slid the shiny wire onto his head, placing the stones over his temples. He turned his head left, then right to scrutinize the ornamentation reflected in his mirror. “I still don’t fucking get this, Pat.”
Patrick watched Sharp, now with Z’s skepticism, knowing that Sharp was about to lose the source of much of his goodwill in the administration. “Are you Marked?”
“Yeah, I’m Marked. I don’t wear the goddamn pin, though.”
“So get used to the headpiece. Sooner or later we’ll figure out how it works. You’ll be wearing it all the time.”
“I don’t know why, but that doesn’t reassure me.” He pulled it away and looked at it like it was something he was buying as a present. “Nasri’s team is getting pretty good at making these things.”
“Yeah, she has them making prototypes that can be tested on the next mission… even if she isn’t on it. Sounds like a team player to me.”