The Circle

reaction
     was immediate. Annie’s followers increased from 88,198 to 243,087—and, as Mae’s announcement
     was passed around, would likely pass a million by the end of the day. The messages
     poured in, the most popular being one that said
The past is past, and Annie is Annie
. It didn’t make perfect sense, but Mae appreciated the sentiment. Another message
     gaining traction said,
Not to rain on the parade, but I think there is evil in DNA, and I would worry about
     Annie. Annie needs to try doubly hard to prove to someone like myself, an African-American
     whose ancestors were enslaved, that she’s on the path of justice
.
    That comment had 98,201 smiles, and almost as many frowns, 80,198. But overall, as
     Mae scrolled through the messages, there was—as always when people were asked for
     their feelings—love, and there was understanding, and there was a desire to let the
     past be the past.
    As Mae followed the reaction, she watched the clock, knowing she was only an hour
     away from her presentation, her first in the Enlightenment’s Great Room. She felt
     ready, though, with this Annie business emboldening her, making her feel, more than
     ever, that she had legions at her back. She also knew that the technology itself,
     and the Circle community, would determine the success of the demonstration. As she
     prepared, she watched her bracelet for any sign of Annie. She had expected some reaction
     by now, certainly something like gratitude,given that Annie was no doubt inundated by, buried under, an avalanche of goodwill.
    But there was nothing.
    She sent Annie a series of zings, but heard no reply. She checked Annie’s whereabouts,
     and found her, a pulsing red dot, in her office. Mae thought, briefly, about visiting
     her—but decided against it. She had to focus, and perhaps it was better to let Annie
     take it all in, alone. Certainly by the afternoon, she would have taken in and synthesized
     the warmth of the millions who cared for her, and would be ready to properly thank
     Mae, to tell her how, now with the new perspective, she could put the crimes of her
     relatives in context, and could move forward, into the solvable future, and not backward,
     into the chaos of an unfixable past.
    “You did a very brave thing today,” Bailey said. “It was brave and it was correct.”
    They were backstage in the Great Room. Mae was dressed in a black skirt and a red
     silk blouse, both new. A stylist orbited around her, applying powder to Mae’s nose
     and forehead, Vaseline to her lips. She was a few minutes away from her first major
     presentation.
    “Normally I would want to talk about why you’d chosen to obfuscate in the first place,”
     he said, “but your honesty was real, and I know you’ve already learned any lesson
     I could give you. We’re very happy to have you here, Mae.”
    “Thank you, Eamon.”
    “Are you ready?”
    “I think so.”
    “Well, make us proud out there.”
    As she stepped onto the stage, into the bright single spotlight, Mae felt confident
     that she could. Before she could get to the lucite podium, though, the applause was
     sudden and thunderous and almost knocked her off her feet. She made her way to her
     appointed spot, but the thunder only got louder. The audience stood, first the front
     rows, then everyone. It took Mae great effort to quell their noise and allow her to
     speak.
    “Hello everyone, I’m Mae Holland,” she said, and the applause started again. She had
     to laugh, and when she did, the room got louder. The love felt real and overwhelming.
     Openness is all, she thought. Truth was its own reward. That might make a good tile,
     she thought, and pictured it laser-cut in stone. This was too good, she thought, all
     of this. She looked out to the Circlers, letting them clap, feeling a new strength
     surge through her. It was strength amassed through giving. She gave all to them, gave
     them unmitigated truth, complete transparency, and they gave her their trust, their
     tidal love.
    “Okay, okay,” she said, finally, raising her hands, urging the audience into their
     seats. “Today we’re going to demonstrate the ultimate search tool. You’ve heard about
     SoulSearch, maybe a rumor here and there, and now we’re putting it to the test, in
     front of the entire Circle audience here and globally. Do you feel ready?”
    The crowd cheered its answer.
    “What you’re about to see is completely spontaneous and unrehearsed. Even I don’t