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are, of course, immune to this danger. But it is a fact that, if these people did not have their ill–gotten immunity, they would not be hired into roles at ITSA. Their criminal records would be painted on their skin; they simply would not be hired. And yet they are, and quite often. I personally consider it to be a pernicious kind of discrimination against those with no criminal record whatsoever, who are, make no mistake, losing out on jobs and careers in favour of the immunes. As a result, it is one of my long–term objectives to stop this unfair hiring procedure. In doing so–”
    The General froze mid–sentence.
    “Sorry to interrupt,” Emily’s voice said from next to her, “but the man himself is approaching. Might want to pull that hood over a bit more…”
    “Exit,” Amber said abruptly, and the room, the faint smell of cleaning fluid, and the people sitting on wooden chairs around her were replaced instantly by the heavily conditioned air of the jet. The General’s podium disappeared, too, but the man was still there in front of her, dimly lit in the aisle, wearing a black greatcoat over his uniform. He was approaching, bending to check seat numbers. Amber’s heart began to beat faster. She pulled her hood further over, so that her face would be as hidden as possible, and turned away to her side so that she was looking at the closed window. Her seat adjusted to try to keep her comfortable.
    She heard him take off his coat and store it in the locker above, and then felt him settle down next to her. Amber didn’t move.
    “Sorry about that,” he said, his Texan accent somehow less pronounced and obvious than it had been in his speech. He was breathing heavily.
    Amber didn’t reply. As if in response to his apology the plane began to roll away from the terminal.
    “No problem,” Amber said quietly.
    “Eight minutes,” he said. “They’d court–martial a private for being eight minutes late to a deployment. Taxi breakdown, if you believe it. Damn thing just stopped on the exit to the freeway, no power at all, had about two hundred cars stuck behind me for at least three minutes before they managed to reroute properly. Then the doors wouldn’t even open, so I couldn’t get into the replacement for ten minutes. I was ready to kick the window out.”
    He wanted to talk. Amber knew she would have to turn to him soon or risk being rude. She had no words or pictures on her face, just a light grey tone over her already dark skin – before she got her immunity she had been able to hold down a normal job for a long time, even while doing four or more vials every night, because she was always careful about her face, neck and hands. In the dark, with her hood up, it was quite conceivable that he wouldn’t see; but it was ridiculous. He had taken part in her selection.
    “Still, I should have left a little more time. Shouldn’t blame the tech. I always feel guilty about the whole first privilege thing,” he continued. “I’ll be getting off first on the other side, too, before they even switch the lights on, probably.”
    Amber remained silent. If she could just pretend to be asleep, maybe she wouldn’t have to turn to him, and he wouldn’t see her, he’d leave before the lights went on.
    “Are you in the new batch?” he said. “I think almost everyone on the flight is.”
    She couldn’t not speak, now, so she turned to him. She kept her hood up, a slight breach of etiquette, but not completely rude these days. “Yes, sir,” she said. “Nice to meet you.”
    “Ah, good. Why else would you be going to Kathmandu, eh?” he said, grinning at her, his teeth very white and straight, showing no sign that he’d seen her skin. Or maybe he had seen and didn’t really mind. Maybe the speeches were purely political.
    She smiled back as best she could.
    “I’m not supposed to talk to you, anyway,” he continued. He was handsome, in a lean sort of way. “Not personally. They don’t want me to