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able to pass the written test.”
    He took a sudden step toward her, and had she not been close to a small pile of file boxes, she might have jumped back. “Do you want to tell me then who has been in the classified area moving boxes around?” His voice cracked with anger, and she could see him struggling to rein it in. It was such a ridiculous thing to be furious about, Ellie almost laughed.
    “I have, Mr. Carpenter. I have moved those boxes around.”
    His eyes shone, as if the fact of this outrage brought tears to his eyes. “Would you care to explain to myself and my associates why?”
    “Rats.”
    Big Martha snorted a laugh and quickly covered it with a dry cough.
    “Rats.”
    “Rats, Mr. Carpenter. Big Norway rats. I’m afraid it’s a terrible problem. I saw a pair of the little bastards scampering around back there and, well, I guess I just lost my head.” Ellie sighed. “I got a broom and I charged back there with no thought to my personal safety. All I could think was what those buck-toothed little demons would do to classified Feno property.”
    Mr. Carpenter went back to tapping his envelope, his eyes down, and his associates held themselves in a tense posture of anxiety and anticipation. When he looked back up,he was composed. “Do you know what this is?” He waved the envelope before him.
    “A toaster?”
    Mr. Carpenter laughed. “That’s funny. I’ll tell you what it’s not. It’s not a joke. You must be one hell of an employee, Ellie, because your boss was adamant about keeping us out of your desk. She physically blocked us until we had a signed warrant.”
    Ellie shook her head. “Oh, you know Martha. Give her a constitution and she’s like a dog with a bone. She just won’t let it go. Imagine that.”
    Mr. Carpenter looked down at the envelope like he was reading from it. “According to the search and seizure of property policy within the PennCo Containment Area, authorities cannot begin process until the owner or holder of the property is present.”
    Ellie felt a cold spot form in her stomach. “Kind of makes you want to salute, doesn’t it?”
    “It’s a good law.” Mr. Carpenter smiled. He would have been handsome if he weren’t scaring the crap out of her. “You know what else is a good law? The law that says that illegal drugs cannot be in restricted areas. Rumor has it you’re quite the pothead, Ellie.”
    “Gee, if only there were some blood and urine samples you could check with.”
    He laughed again, seeming to really enjoy himself. “Now we both know what you do in your own time is your own business. But what you do here at work? Well, that’s another kettle of fish.” He held the envelope up once more. “This warrant gives my associates permission to take yourdesk apart, inch by inch. I sure hope we don’t find any illegal substances.”
    “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Ellie said. “What are you going to do if you find it? Arrest me? Keep me in Flowertown with no chance of parole?”
    “I will put you in the detention center.” Mr. Carpenter stepped up closer to her. “It will be my pleasure. You think you’ve got it tough living in the East Fifth Towers? Try bunking with a couple dozen women in a room half the size.”
    “Oh no,” Ellie said. “You mean I’d have to share a toilet with twenty people instead of eighteen? The electric only works two days a week instead of three? Oh the humanity!” She put her hands on her hips, faking more confidence than she felt. “Knock yourself out, shithead.”
    Mr. Carpenter snapped his fingers at his associates, who leapt into action. They rifled through every box and tray on the top of the desk, tossing everything onto the floor as they went. Then came the drawers, which they ripped out of the desk with pleased fury. Pens, pads, clips, folders, scissors, the debris of office life went flying with each drawer. Ellie felt that cold spot within her growing. In the bottom drawer, the file drawer, in the back,