Young Rissa Read Online Free PDF

my aide. Elva, as soon as you teach Rissa enough to handle your desk, you’re free to take that promotion over in Prepube.”  
    Sommrech’s high-arched eyebrows disappeared under heavy brown bangs. “A little for me, a lot for you? Oh, no, Emil — I want a percentage! How about a third?”  
    Gerard frowned. “In private , Elma!”  
    â€œWhat’s the difference? She’ll have access to the records — and see you have her coded as paid staff, not as a Client.” She shook a finger at him. “I want my cut.”  
    He shrugged. “I don’t pay blackmail. If the promotion isn’t enough for you, we’ll drop the whole thing.”  
    After a frowning pause, Sommrech grinned. “What the hell — it was worth a try. Excuse me a minute, then I’ll start the girl’s training.”  
    When she was gone, Gerard said, “And if you get any fancy ideas, it’s back to scrubbing floors.” He glared at Rissa. “ Do you?”  
    She shook her head. He was cheating her but she could not protest. His cheating of the State did not concern her. But — access to the records!  
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    In the next weeks, Elva Sommrech taught her the uses of keypunch and readout machines, the Center’s coding system and the access codes to other Sections’ data banks. Rissa learned procedures for entering new Juvenile Clients, routines for keeping their daily records, and how to transfer them at sixteen to Section Female, Adult. Some menial chores she still performed; now each morning she went early to tidy and dust the office. When both her superiors arrived, she was allowed thirty minutes to go to breakfast. Then her training continued.  
    One morning Sommrech did not appear. Gerard told Rissa, “The job’s all yours now.” He locked the office door. “There’s one part Elva couldn’t teach you. Take off your jumpsuit and bend over the desk.”  
    At first she felt some pain, then only discomfort, and at the end a brief flash of unsatisfied excitement. Then he withdrew and said, “Wipe yourself off and go get your breakfast.”  
    Slowly she dried herself and got into her jumpsuit. “Do I have to do that every day?”  
    â€œYes. And you’re not to tell anyone. Understand?”  
    She nodded and left. On her way to breakfast she thought, He’s not supposed to do that . But it’s better than scrubbing floors . And now she knew why he had wanted her out of the office for a half hour each morning.  
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    In her work she learned much. Accustomed to the idea that Authority got what it wanted, rules or no rules, she was not surprised to discover the ways Gerard used to divert Center and Client moneys to his own use. She despised the dishonesty; her early training recoiled against it. But, scrubbing floors again? She decided she could only lose by any protest. To Gerard, of course, she pretended ignorance.  
    Her computer terminal, she knew, recorded the placement — but not the content — of any request for data outside her own Section. So despite her anxiety, she waited.  
    Then came a request from Doctor Otaka, for correlative data from Section Male, Juvenile, Postpubertal and Section Male, Adult — and at last she could punch inquiry on Ivan Marchant! He’d be seventeen, she thought — Male, Adult. Frowning, she punched the codes.  
    Of the readout, she understood little. “Standard measures against recalcitrance” was a frequent entry and recently increasing. She tried to think of a way to see her brother, but could not; “visiting regulations” were a system of prohibitions, not permissions. So she memorized his individual code number — which would give access to his file without recording her call — noted his location, and destroyed the telltale readout segments. She would have to wait.