“Fine,” I think and pull at my left earlobe. “Though it’s overkill to do it here. No one’s around.”

“Yes, but the nanobots I told you about, the ones that permeate everything from your head to the utility fog, can be used to monitor this place, at least in theory.”

“Right. Unless all this conveniently invisible technology you keep telling me about is as much of a figment of my imagination as you are,” I think at her. “In any case, since no one seems to know about this tech, how can they use it to spy on me?”

“Correction: no Youth knows, but the others might,” Phoe counters patiently. “There’s too much we still don’t know about Adults, not to mention the Elderly.”

“But if they can access the nanocytes in my mind, wouldn’t they have access to my thoughts too?” I think, suppressing a shudder. If this is true, I’m utterly screwed.

“The fact that you haven’t faced any consequences for your frequently wayward thoughts is evidence that no one monitors them in general, or at least, they’re not bothering with yours specifically,” she responds, her words easing my dread. “Therefore, I think monitoring thoughts is either computationally prohibitive or breaks one of the bazillion taboos on the proper use of technology—rules I have a very hard time keeping track of, by the way.”

“Well, what if using tech to listen in on me is also taboo?” I retort, though she’s beginning to convince me.

“It may be, but I’ve seen evidence that can best be explained as the Adults spying.” Her voice in my head takes on a hushed tone. “Just think of the time you and Liam made plans to skip your Physics Lecture. How did they know about that?”

I think of the epic Quietude session we were sentenced to and how we both swore we hadn’t betrayed each other. We reached the same conclusion: our speech is not secure. That’s why Liam, Mason, and I now often speak in code.

“There could be other explanations,” I think at Phoe. “That conversation happened during Lectures, and someone could’ve overheard us. But even if they hadn’t, just because they monitor us during class doesn’t mean they would bother monitoring this forsaken spot.”

“Even if they don’t monitor this place or anywhere outside of the Institute, I still want you to acquire the right habit.”

“What if I speak in code?” I suggest. “You know, the one I use with my non-imaginary friends.”

“You already speak too slowly for my liking,” she thinks at me with clear exasperation. “When you speak in that code, you sound ridiculous and drastically increase the number of syllables you say. Now if you were willing to learn one of the dead languages…”

“Fine. I will ‘think’ when I have to speak to you,” I think. Then I subvocalize, “But I will also subvocalize.”

“If you must.” She sighs out loud. “Just do it the way you did a second ago, without any voice musculature moving.”