Fe Was 7 CR a CUCU ARR ha LCL bdTHE Should I even be here? Dr. Monique Brown thought as dawn broke over the horizon beyond Cen- tury Gardens. Her car crested the hill below which the gated community lay, and she had to pull over and stop. The sky was clearly going to be beautiful today, a deep blue sentence punctuated infrequently with clouds. The grounds of the facility sprawled out be- low her, a beautiful and exotic Eden to which she had somehow gained a key. No cars passed by to break her reverie, the big city was miles distant (though within reasonable commuting distance), and birds were awake and singing in the spring morning. The past four months of interviews and evaluations and tests had all led her to this point, and now she stared at the gates of her new home, literally one day away from her first assignment as an employee of Utopia. “How in the heavens did I get here?” Her own voice surprised her, and Monique laughed nervously in spite of herself. She had not been this edgy since December when she had first accepted Utopia’s generous offer. She had spent weeks of sleepless nights thinking it over. It seemed so recently that she had relented and made the call Now, after four months of paperwork and background checks, she was finally an official Utopian “Public- Relations Manager.” Utopia had paid off her student loans, offered her an amazing salary (one that raised even the eyebrows of the other business faculty at Kellogg) and helped her finance a house here in Cen- tury Gardens. She had laid out her own hours and predetermined her vacation days and her Utopian li- aison had even talked her into a comprehensive health- and dental-benefits package, Yet now that it was all taken care of, Monique could only sit and stare out her windshield at the cheerfully painted security gates enclosing the orderly community below. She wondered if maybe it all weren't too good to be true Even the first phone calls so many months ago had seemed like events from a waking dream... “Excuse me, is this Professor Monique Brown?” a friendly voice on the line had chirped one night, in the middle of dinner with her sister. “My name is Kelly Lambert, Doctor Brown; I'm with Project Utopia’s Human Resources Division. Have I called you at abad time?” WELCOME > HOME “No, go ahead,” she'd responded, disarmed. “I'm so sorry to bother you, but is this the same Monique Brown who wrote her doctoral dissertation in 2002 on the use of cognitive dissonance redc- tion techniques in public-opinion management?” Monique blinked several times before she could answer. That paper was still the crown jewel among all oF her publications, but no one had asked her about it in years. “Yes it is. Did we attend university together?” “Oh goodness, no,” bubbled the friendly voice, “Tm only in graduate school myself. No, the reason I ask is that one of our assistant directors discovered ‘your thesis on file in the business library at North- western University and he was quite impressed. He asked me to call you and arrange an appointment to ‘meet with him here in Chicago next week. Is that too short notice, Dr. Brown?” | “May lask why?” Monique had asked, maintain- : ing her composure despite her curiosity. “I believe,” Kelly said, as if it were the most ‘obvious thing in the world, “that he wants to offer ‘you a job.” The interview itself had been just as disconcerting “But why my dissertation?” Monique had asked Jay Hideki, the Assistant Director of Utopia’s Public Relations Department. “Ihaven't even thought about iin years.” The two sat in a roughly closet-sized office stuffed away inside the Chicago Utopia complex. Monique had bought @ new business suit, retouched her résumé, found a lecturer to cover her classes at Kellogg and came to the complex @ week after the First phone call. She was distinctly uncomfortable but Hideki was doing his best to put her at ease. “Simply put, professor, | thought your thesis was an excellent read,” Hidaki answered. “It got me interested in public-opinion management again, which is something very few business texts can do.” “Thank you, * Monique stammered, not expect- ing such unadulterated praise from a potential em- ployer. Monique smiled; every word like that coming from his mouth effectively increased her base sal- ary by another two thousand dollars per annum. She was pleased. She always thought the paper was wor- thy of more attention than it had received. Her ownPU graduate advisor had labeled the paper little more than adequate, and a bit esoteric as well. “I don’t know what to say.” “Oh, don’t worry about that, professor. I'l do enough talking For both of us. Am I correct in under= standing that you now teach graduate classes in pub- lic relations at the Kellogg Schoo! of Business?” “Yes,” Monique said, “and doing research. I've been working on software that allows corporations and governments to simulate public-opinion models Thope to see them used in predicting...” “Predicting what?” Hideki prompted her as the doctor blushed and looked away. “Well, Iwas going to say, Predicting what di~ rection public opinion will go in any particular cir- cumstance given a certain set of probable assump- tions." | apologize if that sounds silly or unneces- sarily complex.” “Not at all, professor," Hidaki said, leaning For- ward and waving a hand casually. “It’s just that sort of thinking — and that which you demonstrated in your dissertation — that prompted me to invite you here this afternoon. Forward-looking thinkers like ‘yourself are just the types we hope to recruit here at Utopia.” ‘And recruit her they had. Actively. Aggres- sively. Utopia had done just as much work selling her on the job as she had done convincing them that she was qualified for it, She had sailed and struggled through good, mediocre and outright lousy inter- views, but she had finally been taken on as part of the team that had promised to clean up the Earth’s environment and bring stability to the world. Uto- pia had bought off the remainder of her contract at Kellogg; as soon as the current semester ended, she was to relocate and become a part of the effort to build the perfect tomorrow. And now here she sat, paralyzed with doubt. ‘As she gazed over the panorama of Century Gar- dens, back-lit by the rising sun, Monique saw a shape detach from the landscape well within the community's walls and arc toward her. As it drew closer, Monique saw that it was human-sized, and on a trajectory toward her car. Moments later, the Fig- ure touched down gently and Monique rolled down her window in mute amazement. A novastood before her. A nova had actually approached her in person. She wondered if she were in trouble already, or if maybe she should get out of the car and bow. “Is everything okay?" the nova asked, flashing straight, white teeth in a friendly grin. “I was just catching some breakfast when | saw you stop. ‘Thought you might be having car problems.”