The Circle

property, they were placed in hallways, work areas, even laboratories. The saturation
     was not complete—there were still hundreds of more sensitive spaces without access,
     and the cameras were prohibited from bathrooms and other private rooms, but otherwise
     the campus, to the eyes of a billion-odd Circle users, was suddenly clear and open,
     and the Circle devotees, who already felt loyal to the company and enthralled by its
     mystique, now felt closer, felt part of an open and welcoming world.
    There were eight SeeChange cameras in Mae’s pod, and within hours of them going live,
     she and everyone else in the room were provided another screen, on which they could
     see a grid of their own and lock into any view on campus. They could see if their
     favorite table at the Glass Eatery was available. They could see if the health club
     was jammed. They could see if the kickball game was a serious one or for duffers only.
     And Mae was surprised by how interesting Circle campus life was to outsiders. Within
     hours she was hearing from friends from high school and college, who had located her,
     who now could watchher work. Her middle-school gym teacher, who had once thought Mae insufficiently serious
     about the President’s Physical Fitness Test, now seemed impressed.
Good to see you working so hard, Mae!
A guy she dated briefly in college wrote:
Don’t you ever leave that desk?
    She began to think a bit harder about the clothes she wore to work. She thought more
     about where she scratched, when she blew her nose or how. But it was a good kind of
     thinking, a good kind of calibration. And knowing she was being watched, that the
     Circle was, overnight, the most-watched workplace in the world, reminded her, more
     profoundly than ever, just how radically her life had changed in only a few months.
     She had been, twelve weeks ago, working at the public utility in her hometown, a town
     no one had heard of. Now she was communicating with clients all over the planet, commanding
     six screens, training a new group of newbies, and altogether feeling more needed,
     more valued, and more intellectually stimulated than she ever thought possible.
    And, with the tools the Circle made available, Mae felt able to influence global events,
     to save lives even, halfway across the world. That very morning, a message from a
     college friend, Tania Schwartz, came through, pleading for help with an initiative
     her brother was spearheading. There was a paramilitary group in Guatemala, some resurrection
     of the terrorizing forces of the eighties, and they had been attacking villages and
     taking women captive. One woman, Ana María Herrera, had escaped and told of ritual
     rapes, of teenage girls being made concubines, and the murders of those who would
     not cooperate. Mae’s friend Tania, never an activist in school, said she had been
     compelled to action by these atrocities, and she was asking everyone she knew to join
     in an initiative called We Hear You Ana María.
Let’smake sure she knows she has friends all over the world who will not accept this
, Tania’s message said.
    Mae saw a picture of Ana María, sitting in a white room on a folding chair, looking
     up, expressionless, an unnamed child in her lap. Next to her picture was a smile button
     that said “I hear you Ana María,” which, when clicked on, would add Mae’s name to
     a list of those lending their support to Ana María. Mae clicked the button.
Just as important
, Tania wrote,
is that we send a message to the paramilitaries that we denounce their actions
. Below the picture of Ana María was a blurry photo of a group of men in mismatched
     military garb, walking through dense jungle. Next to the photo was a frown button
     that said “We denounce the Central Guatemalan Security Forces.” Mae hesitated briefly,
     knowing the gravity of what she was about to do—to come out against these rapists
     and murderers—but she needed to make a stand. She pushed the button. An autoresponse
     thanked her, noting that she was the 24,726th person to send a smile to Ana María
     and the 19,282nd to send a frown to the paramilitaries. Tania noted that while the
     smiles were sent directly to Ana María’s phone, Tania’s brother was still working
     on a way to get the frowns to the Central Guatemalan Security Forces.
    After Tania’s petition Mae sat for a moment, feeling very alert, very aware of herself,
     knowing that not only had she possibly made a