“I was walking through Liberation Park.” Noriko explains as the ranger searches the lost and found database. “There was loud music. I didn’t notice it was missing.”
“Careless girl,” mutters the ranger.
Ashamed, Noriko drops her head. Without her fly she’s nobody. Like every global citizen, she’s had that SmartFly™ buzzing above her head since she was seven. Everything about her is contained in that techno-insect with its data-gathering eyes.
Since the SmartFly™ revolution, crime rates have plummeted.
But there’s no more personal privacy.
Sometimes security means compromise.
The ranger regards her with suspicion. “You haven’t been associating with any of those fly-free reprobates from the no-fly zones have you?”
Vigorously, Noriko shakes her head. A mental fog clears. The Resistance.
“Ah.” The ranger’s eyes light up. “It’s here. Snagged on a spider’s web.”
He shoots Noriko an accusing look. “You stepped off a designated nature path. You’ll be fined.”
When she sees the hologram of another ranger already retrieving her fly, the epiphany strikes Noriko with the power of an electric shock. She doesn’t want that perennially buzzing, privacy-invading pest back.
She likes being invisible. Her limbs tense. She prepares to flee.