There were no stars in the light polluted sky. Valen looked down at the city sprawl below him, his expression troubled. This would be the fourth city he had visited in a month. His work as a traveling Selector had taken him across the entire continent only to arrive in Tandayum, the capital. Each prospect he had visited had been a failure and he had seen no reason to believe that anyone from Tandayum would be any different.

Glancing down, the lights of the cars flowed like colorful streams around the giant pillars of the Terriam towers, the conglomerate that controlled Tandayum from the ground up. This did not include the Underground, but no one respectable went there. Terriam owned the corporations, they owned the schools and they even owned the police. As a Selector, even he worked under them to discover potential Breakers.

Ignoring the blaring car horns from the city street, he turned from the balcony of the high-rise hotel. From the napkins, pillows and little chocolates on his sheets, he could see that this hotel was also run by the Terriam organization. In a way, it soiled the nice look of the place. Seeing the label on everything made it seem as dirty and as secret as the organization’s agreements.

He sighed and made his way through the windowed doorway toward the bed where his belongings were neatly arranged. He had arrived before midnight and thought he had better set up a place to stay before he visited the family of the prospect. He never enjoyed staying at a prospect’s house. There was always an air of expectancy until he delivered the bad news that their son or daughter did not have the Shattering and that he could not take them on. The parents would be disappointed and keep pestering him to test them again, but he knew that it didn’t matter how many times he did it, the test would always turn out the same.

It was obvious why they wanted their children to be Breakers. After all, as soon as a Selector gave their blessings to a prospect the Terriam organization would scoop them up as though he was just a simple training scout. They would be set for life, given access to the best accommodation and food money could buy, but most of all, they and their family would meet the most influential people in the business.

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Their genes alone would be enough to set them up for years to come, but only someone like Valen knew how seldom that happened. He would barely come across one prospect in a year which would have the Shattering ability. Even then, it was usually only minor enough to fit them into a breeding program in order to make more powerful Breakers for the future. Just a few were talented enough to become Selectors like himself.

It was the same for this kid. He picked his journal up off the bed and studied the picture of a smiling brown-haired youth. Sure, the boy was handsome but the chances that he would have some form of talent for Shattering would be less than likely. That would be fine; the children weren’t the annoying part of the job. The parents were another story. Every parent thought their child was special and desperately tried to stretch out whatever minuscule abilities they may have had to convince him, even abilities that weren’t there. Once he even had to call up some of his colleagues when a father had pleaded with him to lie and then got angry when he wouldn’t take his son.

He breathed out before remembering the mantra he used while working: Just a part of the job, he thought as though it were a charm to ward off those bad memories. Then again, something about this kid’s hazel eyes made his pessimistic thoughts subside. There was honesty in those eyes. Valen didn’t know if this meant anything. He would have to meet him in person to be sure. Still, he had had experiences where honest eyes had led people to great things and even got him promoted in the case when he had found that one genius kid.

What was his name again? That kid… I think it was… ah, what was it?

He shook his head. His memory was leaving him in his old age. He was only fifty but still liked to use it as an excuse. He threw the log back onto the bed and walked to the window. For some reason, the night had gone deathly silent outside. He looked at the clock on his bedside table. It was nearly ten. He couldn’t remember if there was a curfew in this city or not. He sighed and shrugged. It wouldn’t change anything for him if there was a curfew anyhow. Selectors were practically immune to the law here.

Grabbing his coat, he left by the front door.