“We have an appointment with Foresight on the fifth floor. I was also hoping to stop in and see my mom at her workplace. I’m not sure if she’s at Legal or Liaison right now.”

“Her name?”

“Carol Dallon.”

“One second.”

The person made a phone call. I waited, a little nervous, emotions stirred up. Anger, frustration, disappointment, worry.

Kenzie had her chin at the top of the railing, as she looked down at the lobby. Sveta stood next to her, with Tristan off to one side.

“Is Weld getting a statue?” Tristan asked.

“Not for a while,” Sveta said. “That’s more for people who’ve put in the years, and he only just got in. He’s got a preliminary thing in the gift shop.”

“No shit? Awesome. We should stop in at the gift shop before we leave.”

“You’re such a kid,” Kenzie said, sticking out her tongue at Tristan. He reached out to muss up her hair and she ducked back out of the way.

“Victoria, was it?” the person at the desk asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“Your mother says you can go up. She’s at Legal on the third floor. She’ll take her break when you arrive, so you’ll have about fifteen minutes.”

I resisted the urge to wince. Fifteen minutes was too much. Still, saying that would cause problems. “Great.”

“Give me five seconds, and I’ll give you your guest ID cards. Can your friends come to the desk?”

We lined up in front of the desk. The printer didn’t take long, spitting out four cards in four seconds.

“Check your names are accurate, please, and—there seems to be a problem with miss… Kenzie?”

He turned the card around. A slash of distortion masked Kenzie’s face, tracing from her cheekbone to one corner of her forehead. It looked like the heavy compression artifacting that came with any image that had been compressed too many times, but it was dense to the point that her eyes, nose, and cheekbone were almost completely covered.

“Do you want to try again?” Kenzie asked. She had her phone in her hand as she clasped her hands behind her back. I saw the screen momentarily light up.

The man tapped at the keyboard for a few seconds, then turned around to grab the card as the machine spat it out. He gave a singular nod and passed the card with its attached lanyard to Kenzie. Picture normal.

We headed for the stairs up to the third floor.

“I didn’t know they were going to take our photos,” Kenzie said.

“What are you even doing, obscuring your face like that?” Tristan asked.

“It’s not on purpose, obviously, it’s a byproduct of tech I’m wearing.”