The commerce centre consisted of a conglomeration of large high-rises clustered around a network of pedestrianised squares. The ground floors of the buildings surrounding the Listening Post housed the offices of smaller companies, plus the usual shops, cafes and other service industries that greased the everyday life of the corporation workers. A couple of Listener brokers had offices in the square, but most hid in anonymous offices out of the prime real estate. Paradoxically, Listener contracts were the one type of transaction where face-to-face contact was not necessary.

Laura entered the office of a brokerage firm that had forwarded her a contract a month ago. The broker looked up from his screen and gave her a broad smile.

"Hi. How can I help you?"

"Just a courtesy call," said Laura. "I'm Laura Robinson, certified Listener. I've worked for you in the past. I just thought I'd stick my head in and say hello. Let you know I'm at the Listening Post, available if you need me."

The broker switched off his new customer smile. "Fine. Register, share your schedule and I'll ping you if we need you."

"Oh, I've done that already. Just thought I'd say hello."

"Hello. I'll ping you if we need you," he repeated, as if she were stupid. He returned to his screen. Laura retained her smile until she cleared the office door. Don't antagonise the customer. Clear any cams before snarling.

Normals - Differently gifted, she corrected herself - were like that sometimes. They wanted a Listener's gift in business, to ensure the stranger in front of them was not working some scam or another, but they didn't want them any other time. They were afraid Listeners would know their hidden secrets, their sexual perversions, their every flaw and indiscretion that made them human.

They ignored that would take a conscious effort. They viewed with suspicion that most Listeners could not progress beyond level two, and a deep scan like that would need at least level four. That any Listener found guilty of such a violation would not only find themselves in jail, but saddled with repaying the Guild years of training and prohibited from ever practicing again was neither here nor there. People projected all the weight of their guilt and shame on Listeners. It was that that made them feel inferior, more than simply their lack of one particular gift. And it was all so stupid, so needless.

Laura knew she should soldier on, visit the other brokers. They weren't all complete arseholes. On the other hand, she really didn't need the rejection, the look of fear and suspicion written so large on their faces no Listening was needed to see it. Still, she was not sure she could handle any more of Tony and Judy's love-fest either. As a compromise she browsed a clothes boutique whose smallest accessory would blow her weekly budget, bought a bottle of fruit juice at a corner shop and reluctantly returned to the Listening Post.

The Listening Post was little more than a collection of couches enclosed by a low partition under the glass-roofed square. A couple of other Listeners sat in the Post, but Judy had disappeared.

"Any joy?" asked Tony, as Laura sat next to him and plugged her notepad into the power grid. She shook her head. "Shame. Should have stayed here. You've lost your place in the queue."

"I expect I'll cope," she said. "Judy got a nibble?"

"Yes, a business to business intro. You just missed her. She should be back in an hour."

Laura nodded and delved into her messages. There were a couple of prospects for later in the month, but she knew they meant nothing until the contracts were signed. Otherwise it was just personal stuff; messages from friends with whom she trained in the academy, a gossipy note from her sister, spam that had somehow slipped by the AI filters. She started to balance her own finances, though that would hardly take any time.

"What would you be?" asked Tony, without warning.

"Sorry?"

"If you weren't a Listener, I mean. What would you be?"

"I don't know. It's not a question I've ever asked myself, really. I entered the Guild at twelve, and from then on, I just assumed I was going to be a Listener."

"You've never wanted to be anything else?"

Laura thought for a moment. "Well, before the Guild, I went through a phase where I wanted to be a dragon slayer."

Tony laughed. "A what?"

"A dragon slayer. You know, dress up in armour and rescue handsome princes from evil dragons, that sort of thing. Are you laughing at the dreams of a ten-year-old girl?"

"No, no, not at all," said Tony, openly laughing. "I'm just not sure what the prospects for promotion are in that line of work."

"What, are you joking? Half a kingdom and a himbo to flaunt in front of all my school friends? That's one hell of a bonus plan."

"Okay, okay. But apart from killing endangered species, you've never fancied anything else?"

"No, of course not. Why, what would you be?"

"I don't know. Something in politics, maybe. Something I could do that would make a difference."

"Really? I never saw you as a politician."

"Well, it needs to be done," said Tony. "Have you seen the crap people are spouting, I mean, supposedly intelligent people? You know what one senator told the Neilson committee? That we're witches. Straight up, he said the only mention of Listening in the Bible was divining, and that made us in league with the devil. That's the crap we're up against, and if they win, we're all out of a job, if we're not burnt at the stake."

Laura shook her head. "No, they need us. Never mind the police contracts and the courts, the health services and all that. Businesses wouldn't be able to cope. There's too much money invested. Surely people aren't that ignorant."

"Don't be too sure. They used to cope before the Guild. It's happened before, over and over. The Muslims, the blacks, the Jews. You get a minority, especially a privileged minority, and even intelligent liberals join in the blood lust. We're regulated like no other profession, and still it's not enough. Tell me I'm wrong when we have to wear yellow stars."

"I bet you keep Judy in stitches, don't you, Doctor Doom?"

Tony conceded a smile. "Yeah, well, maybe I'm a bit sensitive, but someone needs to be. Especially when this craps affects our bottom line."

"You and Judy feeling the pinch?"

"No, at least, not as much as some. I've got standing premium contracts with a couple of insurance companies. A lot of guys don't want to be scanned by a female Listener. They're scared she'll know how often he whacks off. Medicals are the one time they can insist on a male Listener, so I'm fairly fireproof. Still, just because I'm okay, doesn't mean I shouldn't give a damn about anyone else."

"You'd never last as a politician, Tony. You nowhere near cynical..."

"Whores!"

The scream interrupted Laura. A young lad, no more than sixteen, she guessed, stood a few metres away from the Post, grinning at his mastery of wit and repartee. Tony stood.

"Hey, arsehole!" Tony placed his index fingers to his temples and screwed up his face in concentration. The grin disappeared and the boy turned and fled.

Tony sat down and muttered curses under his breath.

"Give him a couple of years," he said, "and he'll be putting bricks through windows when he's not beating his wife."

"What was all that?" asked Laura, imitating Tony's performance.

"What? I've got a headache, that's all. What? You know we can only Listen. It's not possible to screw with people's head. Oh, you don't think that's what he thought I was doing, do you? Surely people aren't that ignorant."

"No wonder Judy keeps slapping .... Oh shit!"

"What?" asked Tony, turning to follow Laura's line of sight.

"See those two coming this way? They're Guild. They audited me last night. They must have seen your performance."

Babs and Peter strode side by side across the square towards the Listening Post. Laura couldn't read anything in their expressions.

"Like I said," said Tony. "I just had this sudden headache."

"Maybe you should be a politician at that," said Laura. "You've got the lying with a straight face off pat. You're screwed when they scan you, though."