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assignment, and time in our world would be limited. Molly was placed in the field a human-year earlier. Time passed faster in my world.
    “Libertyville went well, I trust.” Jorgenson referred to the few hours I spent in the small Illinois town for a group compulsion at a high school football game. It was the easiest way to quickly plant memories in humans. Claire, a rookie, was assigned with me. We simply compelled the student body into remembering us before kickoff. Minutes later, we were greeted like long-lost pals by teens we never saw before.
    “Claire did well,” I said, looking Jorgenson in the eye. “She was a bit apprehensive at first, but the cover worked.” It gave us a backstory, should some idiot kid question who we were at some point in our mission. Now, we could legitimately say we were Ben and Claire Parker, two teen siblings previously enrolled at Libertyville High School, active in soccer and well liked. It worked, in case anyone wanted to check up on us. Given today’s technological advances and social networking, we needed to connect the dots ahead of time.
    “Good. I’m sure her handler will be happy. I’ll pass along the news. Claire chose not to come back with you?”
    I shook my head. “No, she wanted to stay.” I chuckled. “She’s enjoying the life of a high school student. Doing better than I expected. She’s made friends.”
    Jorgenson’s smirk was understood without my need to read his thoughts. Claire was a cute kid that spent a number of years in rehabilitation before entering the academy. Her past life ended tragically when she overdosed. It was a breach of her life contract. “She’s young, Pete.”
    Not that young, he said in thought.
    Young enough. She’s only been here a few decades… And she’s a rookie.
    We aren’t old. We’re just more experienced. Pete Jorgenson transitioned decades before me. He was forty-eight years old the day his third contract expired, when his human body died, and he stood in a similar admission line as the pending admittents we passed.
    “I’ll tell her that,” I said aloud.
    “By the way, Bianca asked about you.”
    I rolled my eyes.
    “She wants in on your assignment.”
    “Of course she does. Bianca is a very persuasive woman.” And she didn’t take no for an answer, despite the numerous times I told her I wasn’t interested in her romantically.
    She’s also very attractive. Most agents would jump at the chance—
    I’m not like most agents.
    But—
    Look, if you’re interested in her, go for it.
    She’s requesting you.
    “Not interested,” I said. We walked through the last checkpoint in the long tunnel called the Bridge. It connected the Hub with our world and provided a database purge or download, if that was necessary. An admittent, one who was approved for entrance to my world, would regain knowledge lost during their human life, here on the Bridge. Those taking on a new human life would lose our world’s memory as they walked the tunnel’s length on their way out. It was a good filtering system, but one that did not apply to me.
    I was an immortal agent.