Free The Proving by Ken Brosky

couldn’t they put a little personality into their CPU’s? Even with the strict anti-AI laws, there was still some room for innovation. Clever algorithms that felt like AI, for instance.
    “GreenCab, take us to Parliament building,” Cleo said. She watched as her words appeared on the screen. It changed to a map, pinpointing the Parliament building downtown. A red band of text appeared, asking for 3.3 credits.
    “I don’t know why you want me with you anyway,” Reza said. He dug his finger into his curly black hair, scratching furiously. “I’m just gonna slow everyone down.”
    “You’re . . . ugh!” Cleo found her credits card in the spare metal compartment on her belt and flashed it in front of the white scanning strip on the door. The cab lurched forward, pulling into traffic. “You’re not going to slow us down,” she said, leaning back and letting her muscles relax. So they’d be a little late. Big deal. If anyone was mad, let them go tell off her parents.
    And hey, maybe she’d have woken up on time if the city hadn’t kept her awake half the night with their stupid Carnivale celebrations. Really! Did it have to be every year? Every single year? Couldn’t they take a few years off? Then it would be exciting again. And fun. Cleo could remember a couple times out with her parents — before that stupid virtual game sucked them in — when they saw kick-ass fireworks and wild costumes and crazy Specter-shaped balloons floating through the city. That was great . . . but it got old.
    “We’re coming back, right?” Reza said. “I’m not scared or anything so don’t say something stupid like that. I’m just worried about my program.”
    “You mean your game.”
    “So what? Just cause it’s a game doesn’t mean it’s not important.”
    “It’s not important. You’re supposed to be studying combat tactics. Schoolmaster wants you designing programs for Clan Sparta’s combat division. That’s a big opportunity, bro-bro. Don’t poop it away.”
    Reza snickered. The taxi picked up speed, taking the ramp onto the multi-level expressway that snaked its way around the city. The moment the taxi was in its lane, the mag-lev system kicked in, pushing the entire vehicle off the ground. At the first fork, the taxi slowed. Somewhere in its electronic guts, it sent a ping to the mag-lev system, very politely requesting a track change. The mag-lev system obliged, guiding the taxi into the left lane.
    Cleo put an arm around her brother. “We’ll be fine. I had a little peek at our mission.”
    “What? How?”
    Cleo shrugged. “Just a little sneaking around a few unofficial comm channels. All we gotta do is go check out an emergency supply depot. It’s probably an old door locking mechanism. Those things never work right.”
    “Still, it’s a little scary, being out past the Xenoshield.”
    “Oh pu-leaze! You and the other kids probably can just sit in the vehicle while we New Adults go out and do whatever we have to do. Then we head back and celebrate and eat cake and drink the blood of our ancestors, or fruit juice if that’s not available.” She looked at him and smiled.
    “What if I’m a little nervous?”
    Cleo shrugged, looking out the window to watch the city pass. “That depends on who you are, I guess. If you’re from Clan Sparta, they’d say you’re weak. If you’re from Clan Athens, they’d say something nerdy like that’s just a natural reflex to help you cope. But if you’re from Clan Persia . . .”
    “Yeah?”
    She’d lost her thought. She was staring out at the southwestern park, visible between the skyscrapers — Dalla Sanjay Memorial Park. Tall apple trees and banana trees (engineered in Clan Athens labs) lined the paths. There was a Disc Toss course on one end, a large pond lined with reeds on the far end, and a whole lot of families out enjoying the sun. Kids romping on grass-stained legs and running between the trees while their parents gathered nutrient-rich