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But on the run from her future, as well as the government, Callie sets in motion a chain of events that she hopes will change her fate. Jessa grabs it and tucks it into the pocket of her school uniform, a silver mesh jumpsuit that is a smaller version of mine.
I can almost feel the patches of dry skin on her elbows, where she refuses to apply lotion. Ten times, fifteen times, twenty, she correctly predicts the color of the next leaf to fall. It’s my classmate, Logan Russell, swim team captain and owner of what my best friend Marisa calls the best pecs in this spacetime. I had gone home and daydreamed I’d received the memory from my future self, and in it Logan Russell was my husband. They fool around with the leaves—making more “roses,” combining them into a bouquet—for what seems like forever. But if Logan’s one of the anomalies I’ve heard rumors about—the ones who receive a bad memory, or worse, no memory at all—I don’t want to know about it. She hoists Jessa onto her hip and pulls me into a hug so that we are in a circle of her arms, the way it’s always been. My mother begins to clear the ingredients off the table, the bare, gleaming skin of her wrist catching the light that emanates from the walls. My mother pulls the necklace from under her shirt, where it normally resides, and rubs the cross between her fingers. I turn to leave and see the eating table with its empty plates and balled-up napkins, crumbs layering the floor like an overturned flowerbox. So I gave my sister a bowl of ice cream when Alice Bitterman told her they were no longer friends. And earlier this year, Tiana Rae showed up to school with bloodshot eyes when her memory revealed a future career as a teacher instead of a professional singer. Whatever the possibilities, one thing is clear: I need to be in my own bed tonight, alone with my thoughts.
You must have JavaScript enabled in your browser to utilize the functionality of this website. OverviewPrinted in full-color on both sides of matte laminated paper and mounted with two metallic strips and two adjustable hangers for adequate support. Before she can process what it means, Callie is arrested and placed in Limbo?a prison for those destined to break the law. If not, she must figure out how to protect her sister from the biggest threat of all—Callie, herself. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. An instant later, a crimson leaf flutters through the air like the tail feather of a cardinal. I measure my days not by my experiences but by the time remaining until I receive my memory, the memory, the one that’s supposed to give meaning to my life. I’ll know, without a shred of doubt, that somewhere in another spacetime exists a future version of me, one who turns out all right.
I clap and cheer, even though I’ve seen this show, or something like it, dozens of times before.


He has closely cropped blond hair and a ridiculously charming grin, but that’s not why my knees go weak. Of course, that was before I learned the older girls waited until a boy received his future memory before deciding if he was a good match.
She’s taken the leaves from her jumpsuit and is twisting them around each other to make them look like the petals of a flower. We spend our entire childhood learning how to choose the proper memory, one that will get us through the difficult times. Logan is smart, too smart to be beat by me in the T-minus seven spelling bee, and too smart to mess this up. In the past, Logan’s address would have filled my cheeks with warmth, but this time his words only send the chill creeping up my spine. My mother’s in the eating area, her dark brown hair twisted into a bun, still wearing her uniform with the ComA insignia stitched across the pocket. It has a glass door with knobs along one side, two metal racks, and a coil that turns red when it’s hot. He is not so much a gaping hole in my life as he is a shadow who lurks around the corner, just out of reach.
My mother used to be a medical aide, but as more and more applicants came with memory chips showing futures as competent diagnosticians, it had only been a matter of time before she got downgraded to bot supervisor. Everything has the slightly plastic taste of food prepared in the Meal Assembler, but the spread itself is unrivaled by the best manual cooking establishments. Jessa savors the snap peas like they are candy, nibbling at the ends and rolling them around her mouth before sucking the entire pods down. The chocolate cake is higher on one side than the other, the frosting glopped on and messy.
Her walls have been dimmed, so the only illumination comes from the moonlight slithering through the blinds. I need to call Marisa, speculate with her one last time what my memory will be—if I’ll see myself as a Manual Chef or have a different profession altogether.
Still, we all agreed it was better to find out now that it wasn’t meant to be, rather than spend an entire life trying and failing. With the help of her childhood crush, Logan, a boy she hasn’t spoken to in five years, she escapes the hellish prison. Behind our patch of a park, bullet trains shoot by in electromagnetic vacuum tubes, and metal and glass buildings vie for every inch of pavement.
She drops into step beside me, and we head for the train station on the other side of the square.
Sure, he has the nerve to smile at me after ignoring me for five years, but he’s no threat to Jessa’s well-being. I can smell the protein pellets we made a pact never to eat, feel the touch on my shoulder when Amy Willows compared my hair to straw. Who cares if Logan has dimples, if his future doesn’t show sufficient credits to provide for his family? That’s how the school orders us—not by last name or height or grades, but by the time remaining until we receive our future memory. Underneath the tattoo, a computer chip containing your future memory is implanted, where it can be scanned by prospective employers, loan officers, even would-be parents-in-law.


They’re the green of grass before summer, a sheen caught somewhere between vibrant and dull, as if the color can’t decide whether to thrive in the sun or wither in its heat. I’m not going to worry about him just because he’s deemed me worthy of his attention again. She’s a bot supervisor at one of the agencies, but she gets paid by the Committee of Agencies, or ComA, the governmental entity who runs our nation. I used to pester my mom for details, but tonight, on the eve of my seventeenth birthday, the heavy knowledge of him is enough. Future memories didn’t arrive systematically until a few years ago, and my mother wasn’t lucky enough to receive one.
Never touched a keyboard in her life, but her memory showed her as an accomplished concert pianist. Each section provides information on the operation of major systems, diagnostics, troubleshooting, overhaul, as well as the removal and installation of major components. He may have a swimmer’s physique today, but it might very well melt into fat twenty years from now. Actual ingredients—packets of flour, a small carton of milk, real eggs—lay strewn across the eating table. Then you won’t be able to yell at me anymore!” I leap to my feet, and my arm knocks the stand.
Mom’s so much better at this than me, but since she took an extra shift at work, I’ve had to pinch hit for her more and more.
Step-by-step procedures for trouble shooting, cleaning and inspecting, repairing, and replacing the various parts, assemblies, and systems on these vehicles are presented. The traditions of the pre-Boom era gave their believers comfort, hope, and reassurance—in short, everything that future memory provides us now. She can see a couple minutes into the future, but she’s never been able to tell me anything really important—how I’ll do on a big test, say, or when I’ll get my first kiss. This manual also contains maintenance and lubrication data as well as a tabulation of service specifications. When we do pray, it’s not to any god, but to Fate herself and the predetermined course she’s set.
Disassembled views of the principal units show the various parts in the order of their disassembly or assembly. In many cases, a glance at these illustrations will tell you all you need to know about how the parts go together. Written in an easy to understand format, this manual contains instructions designed for the novice and the expert. Ford Oval and nameplates are registered trademarks owned andlicensed by the Ford Motor Company.Manufactured by the Forel Publishing Company, LLC All products are produced in Adobe Reader (pdf) format to retain the exact look and feel of the original manual.



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