EXTRACT FOR
Payment
(Fiaine Cluiun)

One





Penelope hesitated at the door, not daring to touch the knob. Fear prickled across her skin, raising hundreds of fine hairs. She swallowed, forcing the bile back down and closed her eyes. No matter how hard she tried to convince herself otherwise, the waves of nausea and anxiety continued to grow, threatening to spin out of control.

They were out there, waiting for her, watching for the moment when they could seize her. It wasn't imagination or paranoia. She'd caught glimpses of the watchers, but who they worked for Penelope couldn't be certain. If her debt was still with the bank, then maybe she was overreacting?

Maybe there was a chance she wouldn't be in trouble when she stepped outside of the confines of her home?

If not me, then who were they watching? Which unfortunate soul are they waiting to pounce on?

She stepped back, heart racing. She couldn't stay here for the rest of her life, and they'd give up sooner or later. They had to. There were others who'd provide far more entertainment and bigger payoffs than she ever could. Could it be that the amount she owed really wasn't enough for a private investor to bother with?

What was her debt? Fifteen hundred? If that? She'd been paying it off a little at a time. Even with interest and the powers knew these people liked to add their interest, the amount wouldn't have broken more than two thousand. Yet they were out there. 

Watching.

Waiting for her to make a mistake so they could pounce and teach her what befell those who couldn't afford to live more than hand to mouth. 

She'd felt them. The passage of their gaze as it moved over her body, stripping away her defenses, searching for a weakness. 

Penelope pressed one hand to chest, fingers twitching as she tried to find a means of bringing her fears under control. She was stronger than this. She had to be, or she'd never be able to deal with the stress of day to day life. Living paycheck to paycheck wasn't a new concept, there'd always been a segment of society who were one crisis away from being homeless. 

Or worse.

"No, this is ridiculous. I can't let fear keep me locked up for the rest of my life." How was she supposed to work, to earn enough to pay the debt back, if she couldn't leave her home? Then there were small matters about having enough food in the house, and utilities - they didn't pay for themselves. "They're not watching me, they couldn't be." 

It made no sense, why would they waste money paying someone to track her? 

Penny turned her back to the door, closed her eyes and leaned against it. The changes in the laws had come one after the other, each time pitched as a means of reducing the amount of control the elite had over the rest of the population, when it quickly became obvious that the truth was the exact opposite. The debtors law now left vulnerable members of the population open to situations like there.

Hateful days where she was afraid to leave her home in case the bank decided to call her loan in. Bank, hah, that's a generous name for it. Oh, it had been a bank under the old laws, or she'd have never taken the small, but desperately needed, loan out. There was nothing else she could do, she'd tried everything possible, but in the end the loan had paid for the repairs needed to keep her car running.

Without transport she couldn't work.

Now, thanks to the risks waiting for her out there, she was left arguing with herself about trying to go to work. If she missed another day she'd be fired, and she couldn't be right about this. Why would they follow her? She wasn't anyone special, and there'd been no notice from the bank about her loan being called in or sold off to one of the companies or families that rumor now said were in the habit of buying debts. 

She didn't want to believe the stories, but the news was far from reliable, and the whispers? 

The whispers only grew with each passing day. 

I can't stay here. I can't lose my job.

Not this time. Not without losing her home, and everything else she owned, in the process.

Penny grabbed her coat, bag, and keys. She wasn't going to live the rest of her life in fear. She couldn't. Not and keep her home, car, or anything else. Jobs where she could work from home existed, but she didn't have the skills, not yet at least. That was on her list of things to change in the coming year. The less she had to rely on others or stick in a dead-end job as a server, the happier she'd be.

Penny slipped her coat on, and headed for the car, taking a moment to make sure the door was locked. The last thing she needed was to find out someone had broken in, or worse.

There was always a more dangerous situation she could find herself in. Walking in on a burglar was one thing, walking in on unwanted intruders who had no desire to leave, and who knew what plans they might have for her body, was another matter entirely. 

Letting my fears get the better of me, can't do that. It'll eat me up at the wrong time. It wasn't as if she disliked her job, not really. It was the mix of having to rely on tips combined with avoiding grabby customers that she had a problem with. One of the government promises had been to increase the minimum wage, but even when that had happened, she, like most servers, remained exempt from that scant protection. Meaning they earned, in some cases, barely three dollars an hour before tips. 

All it took was a bad day where you were running from table to table, with only an extra dollar or two an hour in tips, and as a server you were hosed. Sure, people had the right not to tip, but proving that enough to get the boss to pay the minimum wage during those times - as they were supposed to - was often far more hassle than it was worth. 

Even if you had a so-called good boss.

They didn't want to pay extra out of their pockets, and far too many diners were of the opinion that it wasn't their job to make up for the poor wage so many tried to exist on. 

Penny slipped into the driver's seat and ran through the legally mandated checks, confirming the status of each one the car's system as the information flashed on the screen. Newer models allowed for a mostly automatic series of checks, but she'd never been a in position where she could afford a new car.

Second hand - hah, who had money for that. 

No, her baby was almost twenty years out of date, but it was hers. She didn't owe a single cent. No, the only debt she'd incurred was the loan she'd taken out to repair it. A loan she was on time with, when it came to repayments, but still owed enough to place her in potential danger. 

Like far too many men and women around the country. 

She pushed the unwanted thoughts to the back of her mind and focused on driving. The last thing she needed was to allow herself to be distracted when she was behind the wheel. The tickets alone could put her in jail as she didn't have the funds to pay fines off within the allotted seven days. 

The slightest thing might be enough to tip her off balance, where she didn't have enough to keep her head even remotely above water. 

Calm. Focused. Get on with her work, do her shift, get home, and repeat until she had the entire debt paid off. Maybe she could cut her meals down? No, she'd already dropped down below what was considered safe, which was another reason to work. The boss might be a cruel jerk with wandering hands, but she was allowed a meal with each shift, and there were always mistakes that one of the cooks slipped to the servers in takeout boxes at the end of the day.

Better to hand them off to staff than fill the dumpster too quickly and pay for overflow. Which could be more expensive than the cost of the food. Besides, what else could they do with it, legally at least? It couldn't be handed to the food banks or sold to another customer - not without risk of the boss losing his food license. 

A red light forced her to wait longer than she wanted, and she slammed her hand against the steering wheel. She'd given herself enough time, if only just, to get to work on time, but with her nerves drawn taut, she knew it wouldn't take much to set her off. No, she had to be calm, focused, and ready to handle whatever waited for her at work.

By the time she pulled into the small employees parking lot, she'd managed to bring her nerves and fears both under control. She'd learned years ago that you put on a mask, an act when you worked with the general public. Never letting them see the worries you carried with you. You smiled, faked being happy to see them, said the right things and maybe you'd get an extra dollar or two in tips, or at least not be stiffed out of one completely.

It wasn't a given.

There were always those who thought it was fine to leave a quarter or a handful of change on the table on a thirty dollar or more tab. Then there were those who thought someone running back and forth with endless refills of coffee, tea, water, or whatever wasn't worth more than a dime or a few pennies, if they left anything at all. Yet those were the ones who demanded the most attention, acting as if they deserved to be treated as if they were the only customers in the entire world she was taking care of.

And you couldn't say a damned thing.

She gave herself ten breaths, each one a steady inhale, hold, and slow release before she stepped out of the car, automatically locking and checking it.

"Penelope Charter?"

"Who's asking?" She turned, putting her back against the car.

Three men watched her, one in front, two behind the lead. The lead man smiled and brought a small ID wallet out from an inner pocket.

Cops? What did I do? Her mind raced, trying to scramble for information. There wasn't anything she'd missed, no notifications or call to appear. It couldn't be a summons to court, or a warrant she didn't know about. Those had to be delivered and signed for, not merely issued. There was a process, one they'd all been taught before graduation. 

The wallet opened as the man closed in on her. "I'm a designated collection agent."

"Collection? I'm up to date on my payments." She glanced at the ID, fighting the urge to turn and run. "You don't work for the bank." No, please. Not this. Not now. "I don't understand."

"Are you Penelope Charter?"

She wanted to lie, to say they'd approached the wrong person, but lying to a designated agent was, in itself, a crime, and they all had body cams these days. No, she couldn't afford to add to her current list of mistakes. 

Penny took a deep breath and straightened has back. Whatever was about to happen she wasn't going to allow her fears to get the better of her. Besides, for all she knew he was about to hand her a summons or a notice that the debt had been bought out. "Yes."

"ID, please."

At least he was polite. It didn't help her situation, but rudeness was one last thing she didn't want to have to deal with today. 

As if I have a choice.

She reached for her purse, taking care not to hide what she was doing. Not as if she had a permit to carry any weapons. Her fingers trembled as she flipped it open.

He ran a hand scanner over it and nodded. "Thank you. Identity confirmed."

She shoved her ID back into her purse. 

"Penelope Charter, we've been assigned to bring you in. Your note has been called, and you're required to present yourself to the loan holder." He stepped to the side and gestured to the two other men. "If you'll come with us, we can manage this without making a scene. Don't you agree?" His smile never reached his eyes. 

"The bank did this?" It didn't make sense, but she knew the truth before they responded. Of course, the bank wouldn't do this for such a small loan. 

"No, Miss. The new note holder." He didn't move, didn't give her an option of talking about this. Instead the three men calmly waited for her to obey, their features impassive.

Her throat tightened as the cold fingers of fear reached out, tightening their hold on her heart. She shook her head, then swallowed, trying to force herself to remain calm but it wasn't going to work. She knew what the law was. Either she went with them willingly, or she'd be taken in and her resistance might well add to the debt she already owed. She wasn't entirely certain how things worked now, but she had little doubt the new note holder would add anything he could onto the debt.

It was one of the ways they made their money, according to rumors. She'd tried to shut out the stories, but whispers carried through the city and beyond.

Her knees threatened to give out on her as she allowed them to escort her from the parking lot, only finding her voice when they opened the rear passenger door to allow her to enter.

"Wait. My job. I have to let the boss know."

"He already knows." The man held her gaze. "Who do you think told us when you'd be here?"

Her heart sank. No, he couldn't. She'd never been anything but polite to the boss. "Bu-but why?"

"The bounty, of course. Not much, and it'll be added to your bill, but he wasn't going to turn down five hundred. Not as if your work is skilled labor, he can fill your job before the shift is over, if he hasn't already."

The pieces fell into place. No wonder her boss had been adamant she was to turn up today or find another job. Tears threatened and she blinked them away. He'd be watching her, waiting to see what she'd do. Well, she wouldn't give him the pleasure of extra entertainment on top of what he'd already gained. 

"I see." She lifted her chin, forcing her back to remain straight, her shoulders firm, jaw tight. Nothing they said to her would break her, not where others could see. 

The lead man, the one who's ID she'd seen, settled in next to her, with the other two in the front seats. "You're calmer than most."

"No point in being anything else, is there? It won't change things."

"No, I suppose not." He watched her, not bothering to make an effort to hide what he was doing. "How much did you owe?"

"Not enough for something like this." If he wanted to know more, he could find out from someone else, she wasn't here to amuse him. "Who owns the note?"

"You'll meet him soon enough. Might meet the fianc? as well, she's often around as I understand it."

She nodded, trying to go over the new laws. Service, she was likely going to end up in service. Indentured was the term they used, as they had to release you once the term was over, or if you found a way to pay the outstanding debt off. Not that she had the money to pay it off. Especially now there'd be extra charges added. The fee to her boss, the cost of the agents, plus whatever else the new owner believed was allowable under the law.

Not as if she had the money to fight that in court. 

That would cost more than the outstanding amount by at least ten times. She bit back the urge to sigh. There was nothing she could do except face the new note owner and hope some new arrangement for payments could be agreed. If there was service, she could handle that, maybe as a cook, or maid. It wouldn't be for long, would it?

What if he required live in? That would take longer to pay off because of accommodation, food, maybe even uniform.

Like so many of the new laws, and more than a few of the old, the debtor's law was there to help the rich and take advantage of the poor. It wasn't as if she'd ever missed a payment, but that didn't matter anymore.

The drive took over an hour. Eventually the city fell away behind them, and she glanced out to realize they were well beyond even the suburbs. She frowned, uncertain where they were going. Only the ultra-rich could afford to live out here. Land was at a premium for farmers, both crops and livestock. But the landscape they now drove through was filled with well-tended grounds, expensive homes, private fields with horses and other animals.

If the note owner was this rich, what did he need a maid or cook for? He obviously had more than enough money to pay for the best available, at least she assumed so from the location.

"Five minutes."

She nodded and sat up fully, forcing herself to be fully aware of what was happening.

A massive set of black and gold gates opened, allowing the vehicle entrance only to close once more behind them. Gates with a mounted crest. 

One that she knew she'd seen somewhere before. 

But where?

It wasn't as if she mixed with the type of people with money to burn. She wasn't the type who was given an invitation to attend expensive events, let alone the type held in places like this. 

Four stories and spread out further than she could easily see from the way parts of the structure appeared to curve behind the rest of it. She tried not to look worried or allow her nerves to get the better of her, but it was an impossible task. She found herself reaching for the car door, then yanked her hand back. Foolish. The door was locked, it was a safety feature of most cars. Doors remained locked when vehicles remained in motion.

Fingers of cold fear worked their way into her chest, but she wasn't going to give up. Refused to give into her growing nerves. What could they want from her when it came to repaying the debt? Housecleaning? Serving the meals - that made the most sense considering her experience, but anything more than that, or basic grunt labor, wouldn't fit with her skill set.

It wasn't that she lacked intelligence, she'd passed the tests to make it through to college, but the expense had prevented her from following those dreams.

So, she did what she could to pay her bills, and keep herself out of debtors' prison - which was once again a thing and was one of the many changes in the past ten years which had impacted men and women of her income level. Now the law had chosen a new victim.

No, no matter what happens, I won't be a victim. I won't let them turn me into one.