"Evening, ladies," said the one on the left. He had a long drawn out drawl that pushed into performative. His oversized golden star badge read SPUR-9 in stamped letters. His partner stood two feet behind and to the right, thumbs hooked in his vest, the physical manifestation of punctuation.
"We're just going to confirm your details so everyone can get on with their night," Spur-9 said. "Won't take but a moment."
Mom looked at the crowd. There were at least eleven active recording devices within range, several of them pointed in their direction because content was content and two women being detained-but-not-detained by corporate security adjacent to a Ranger had narrative potential. The influencer with the press vest had turned toward them finally having found an angle. Mom knew what it would cost to push back right now.
So she complied. "What do you need us to do?"
"Just take your glasses off, ladies." Spur-9 lifted a small scanner towards their eyes. The other Ranger, now identifiable as Spur-37, placed their hand on a small taser, registering them as a threat.
The scan lasted forty seconds.
Mom kept her eyes in the middle of both Rangers. She was thinking about a dress she'd owned in 2063 that was a similar color to this one. She was thinking about the last time she'd stood somewhere like this without doing reconnaissance. She was thinking that if they flagged her, the collective would need twelve hours of lead time before the Rangers connected the dots, and that was assuming the Rangers were working off NLT data rather than SPNS data, and those were two different timelines.
She was thinking about all of this very calmly, which was the only way she knew how to think about things that terrified her.
"Ms. Hollow," the employee said. "And Ms. Flores." She checked the tablet once more. "We're so glad you made it this evening. You both look stunning tonight. We have you listed as priority guests."
Mom looked at Nina.
Nina looked at Mom.
"Oh honey, we didn't want to make a scene." Mom immediately took her new role. "Experience what it was like on the outside, but you caught us." She winked.
"Your reservation is confirmed for the interior, preferred seating. I apologize for any inconvenience during the verification process." She was already moving, angling her body toward the door, the universal grammar of please follow me. "We're delighted to have you. If you'll come this way?"
Spur-9 and his partner had stepped back half a pace, looking slightly disappointed.
Mom and Nina followed the lit up hip bones that shone out of the looped lace on the back of the employee's dress, neither one questioning what just happened.
"Hey!" The man with the press vest was pointing. "They just let those two in. Those two just—what is that? What's the criteria? On what basis—"
A Ranger stepped toward the observer zone, and the crowd turned their attention to him.
Nina kept a hand on Mom's elbow, making sure to keep contact. Her voice was very quiet. "Don't look back."
"I know," Mom said.
"Don't look at the cameras either."
"I know."
"Keep your eyes—"
"Nina." Mom. "I've been doing this longer than you've been alive."
"Sorry, just nervous."
They stepped inside.