The Circle

know who we’ll be searching for today. He or she will be chosen at random from a database
     of known fugitives worldwide.”
    Onscreen, a giant digital globe spun.
    “As you know, much of what we do here at the Circle is using social media to create
     a safer and saner world. This has already been achieved in myriad ways, of course.
     Our WeaponSensor program, for example, recently went live, and registers the entry
     of any gun into any building, provoking an alarm that alerts all residents and the
     local police. That’s been beta-tested in two neighborhoods in Cleveland for the last
     five weeks, and there’s been a 57 percent drop in gun crimes. Not bad, right?”
    Mae paused for applause, feeling very comfortable, and knowing what she was about
     to present would change the world, immediately and permanently.
    “Fine job so far,” said the voice in her ear. It was Stenton. He’d let her know he
     would be Additional Guidance today. SoulSearch was a particular interest of his, and
     he wanted to be present to guide its introduction.
    Mae took a breath.
    “But one of the strangest facets of our world is how fugitives from justice can hide
     in a world as interconnected as ours. It took us ten years to find Osama bin Laden.
     D. B. Cooper, the infamous thief who leapt from an airplane with a suitcase of money,
     remains on the lam, decades after his escape. But this kind of thing should end now.
     And I believe it will, now.”
    A silhouette appeared behind her. It was the shape of a human, torso and up, with
     the familiar mug-shot measurements in the background.
    “In seconds, the computer will select, at random, a fugitive from justice. I don’t
     know who it will be. No one does. Whoever it is, though, he’s been proven a menace
     to our global community, and ourassertion is that whoever he or she is, SoulSearch will locate him or her within twenty
     minutes. Ready?”
    Murmurs filled the room, followed by scattered applause.
    “Good,” Mae said. “Let’s select that fugitive.”
    Pixel by pixel, the silhouette slowly became an actual and specific person, and when
     the selection was finished, a face had emerged, and Mae was shocked to find it was
     a woman. A hard-looking face, squinting into a police camera. Something about this
     woman, her small eyes and straight mouth, brought to mind the photography of Dorothea
     Lange—those sun-scarred faces of the Dust Bowl. But as the profile data appeared beneath
     this photo, Mae realized the woman was British and very much alive. She scanned the
     information onscreen and focused the audience on the essentials.
    “Okay. This is Fiona Highbridge. Forty-four years old. Born in Manchester, England.
     She was convicted of triple murder in 2002. She locked her three children in a closet
     and went to Spain for a month. They all starved. They were all under five. She was
     sent to prison in England but escaped, with the help of a guard who she apparently
     seduced. It’s been a decade since anyone’s seen her, and police have all but given
     up on finding her. But I believe we can, now that we have the tools and the participation
     of the Circle.”
    “Good,” Stenton said into Mae’s ear. “Let’s focus now on the UK.”
    “As you all know, yesterday we alerted all three billion Circle users that today we’d
     have a world-changing announcement. So we currently have this many people watching
     the live feed.” Mae turned back to the screen and watched a counter tick up to 1,109,001,887.
     “Okay, over a billion people are watching. And now let’s see how many we have in the
     UK.” A second counter spun, and landed on14,028,981. “All right. The information we have says that her passport was revoked
     years ago, so Fiona is probably still in the UK. Do you all think fourteen million
     Brits and a billion global participants can find Fiona Highbridge in twenty minutes?”
    The audience roared, but Mae didn’t, in fact, know if it would work. She wouldn’t
     have been surprised, actually, if it didn’t—or if it took thirty minutes, an hour.
     But then again, there was always something unexpected, something miraculous about
     the outcomes when the full power of the Circle’s users was brought to bear. She was
     sure it would be done by the end of lunch.
    “Okay, everyone ready? Let’s bring up the clock.” A giant six-digit timer appeared
     in the corner of the screen, indicating hours, minutes, and seconds.
    “Let me show you some