The Circle

their lives personally. Stenton was their boss, for
     whom they had to act professionally and clap professionally. In a flawless black suit,
     no tie, he walked to the center of the stage, and without introducing himself or saying
     hello, he began.
    “As you know,” he said, “transparency is something we advocate here at the Circle.
     We look to a guy like Stewart as an inspiration—a man who’s willing to open up his
     life to further our collective knowledge. He’s been filming, recording, every moment
     of his life now for five years, and it’s been an invaluable asset to the Circle, and
     soon, I bet, to all of humankind. Stewart?”
    Stenton looked out to the audience, and found Stewart, the Transparent Man, standing
     with what looked like a small telephoto lens around his neck. He was bald, about sixty,
     bending slightly, as if from the weight of the device resting on his chest. He got
     a warm round of applause before sitting down.
    “Meanwhile,” Stenton said, “there’s another area of public life where we want and
     expect transparency, and that’s democracy. We’re lucky to have been born and raised
     in a democracy, but one that isalways undergoing improvements. When I was a kid, to combat back-room political deals,
     for example, citizens insisted upon Sunshine Laws. These laws give citizens access
     to meetings, to transcripts. They could attend public hearings and petition for documents.
     And yet still, so long after the founding of this democracy, every day, our elected
     leaders still find themselves embroiled in some scandal or another, usually involving
     them doing something they shouldn’t be doing. Something secretive, illegal, against
     the will and best interests of the republic. No wonder public trust for Congress is
     at 11 percent.”
    There was a wave of murmuring from the audience. Stenton fed off it. “Congressional
     approval is actually at 11 percent! And as you know, a certain senator was just revealed
     to be involved in some very unsavory business.”
    The crowd laughed, cheered, tittered.
    Mae leaned to Annie. “Wait, what senator?”
    “Williamson. You didn’t hear? She got busted for all kinds of weird stuff. She’s under
     investigation for a half-dozen things, all kinds of ethical violations. They found
     everything on her computer, a hundred weird searches, downloads—some very creepy stuff.”
    Mae thought, unwillingly, of Francis. She turned her attention back to Stenton.
    “Your occupation could be dropping human feces on the heads of senior citizens,” he
     said, “and your job approval would be higher than 11 percent. So what can be done?
     What can be done to restore the people’s trust in their elected leaders? I am happy
     to say that there’s a woman who is taking all this very seriously, and she’s doing
     somethingto address the issue. Let me introduce Olivia Santos, representative from District
     14.”
    A stout woman of about fifty, wearing a red suit and a yellow floral scarf, strode
     from the wings, both arms waving high over her head. From the scattered and polite
     applause, it was clear that few in the Great Hall knew who she was.
    Stenton gave her a stiff hug, and as she stood beside him, her hands clasped in front
     of her, he continued. “For those who need a civics refresher, Congresswoman Santos
     represents this very district. It’s okay if you didn’t know her. Now you do.” He turned
     to her. “How are you today, Congresswoman?”
    “I’m fine, Tom, very fine. Very happy to be here.”
    Stenton offered his version of a warm smile to her, and then turned back to the audience.
    “Congresswoman Santos is here to announce what I must say is a very important development
     in the history of government. And that is a move toward the ultimate transparency
     that we’ve all sought from our elected leaders since the birth of representative democracy.
     Congresswoman?”
    Stenton stepped back and sat behind her on a high stool. Representative Santos moved
     to the front of the stage, hands now entwined behind her, and swept her eyes over
     the room.
    “That’s right, Tom. I’m as concerned as you are about the need for citizens to know
     what their elected leaders are doing. I mean, it is your right, is it not? It’s your
     right to know how they spend their days. Who they’re meeting with. Who they’re talking
     to. What they’re doing on the taxpayer’s dime. Until now, it’s been an ad hocsystem of