Free Talented by Sophie Davis

city.  The population must be so great the occupants needed both to get around in a timely fashion.
    The men and women walking the streets were dressed in beautiful, albeit colorful outfits.  Many of the younger had brightly colored hair that was dyed to match their clothing.  I noticed a large number of people with unnatural eye colors, like mine and Erik’s.  It wasn’t rare to have untraditional eye colors and actually it was so not rare that I was unsure why people still referred to my eye color as unnatural.  Donavon had told me it was common for city kids to have their eye pigment altered, or in less extreme cases, wear colored lenses in their eyes.
    The older women in Washington’s shopping district wore vibrant silk dresses, and intricately carved wooden high heeled shoes.  Many wore ropes of colored, glass stones around their necks, and varying sizes of adornments in their ears.  Some of the wealthier women had glass beads braided into exquisite updos or bird feathers crowning their heads.
    Working-class men and women pushed their way through the crowded sidewalks, wearing cheaply made business attire in varying shades of gray and navy.  They ducked into sandwich shops and greasy fast food joints, trying to find the most expedient place to get food on their too short lunch breaks.  All of the women wore makeup.  The older women seemed to favor simple shades that accentuated their natural features.  Younger women, and even some teenagers, sported makeup so thick that their faces looked more like painted masks, designed to look like a caricature of the wearer underneath.
    I felt extremely plain, naked, in my boring navy, cotton dress, thong sandals and makeup-free face. At least I had my weird purplish-blue eyes and long spiral curls going for me.  I did have more elaborate clothes in my closet at headquarters but I usually shied away from wearing them since none of the other Pledges or Operatives ever wore anything exciting.
    “What do you think, Tals?” Erik interrupted my gazing.
    “It’s beautiful,” I replied honestly.
    “Far cry from school, huh?”
    “Sure is,” I agreed softly.
    The boys promised me a tour of their favorite places on the ride over, and I’d been worried that meant I would be spending the day becoming acquainted with the city’s drinking establishments.  My fears were put to rest when our first stop was a candy store.  Erik showed me how to use the computer to design my own taffy flavors, and then we watched as large metal claws pulled and stretched long pieces of taffy, mixing and melding, to create my custom candies.
    After the candy store our next stop was the Air, Space and Technology Museum. There was a tour starting just as we passed through the entrance scanners; I figured we’d join the group.  Instead, we walked straight past the throng of people towards the first exhibit.  It turned out that Henri was a frequent enough museum patron that he gave the tour better than any guide could hope to.
    For the rest of the morning, I followed the boys in and out of game shops, techie boutiques, clothing stores and several establishments that sold questionably legal merchandise.  I tried to take it all in, but I was on sensory-overload by midmorning.
    After a full morning of shopping, we stopped for lunch at a restaurant that claimed to have “The Best Apple Pie in the District.”  There were so many cakes and pies on the menu that, I considered just ordering dessert for lunch; then decided against spending the afternoon with a stomachache.  I’d never heard of many of the dishes on the menu, so I settled on a cold octopus soup with spinach bread.  Both the Academy and Headquarters rarely served any seafood, and I didn’t want to waste the opportunity.
    “What else do you want to see before you need to go back?” He nri asked as we finished lunch.
    “Can we see the ocean?” I asked hopefully.  I knew the city was not actually bu ilt on the ocean – it was