Chapter 1 - Constitution
The woman across from her was lithely professional-looking, with neatly pinned light brown hair and thin glasses. They slid down her nose as she fiddled with the tape recorder. A camera was set up alongside it. Two recording methods seemed like overkill to her. The woman had an earpiece in, too, silver just barely visible inside her ear.
“Alright, we’ll get started right away,” she said, sitting up in her chair and smiling. “This is Michelle Hartley interviewing. Please state your full name.”
“Josephine Ida Lorraine.” She put on her best polite, enthusiastic smile.
Her chair was uncomfortable. It seemed more like an interrogation room than an office, windowless and with a locked door.
She shifted in her seat, folding her hands, then unclasping them, then changing her mind and squeezing her own hand again.
“Can you tell me, in your own words, why you’re here?”
“As far as I understand it,” Josie began slowly. “I’m a finalist for a genetic testing program.”
Michelle — Ms. Hartley? Neither seemed right. — tilted her head and smiled again. “A little vague, but you’re correct, genetics certainly has a role to play. This is the final interview stage for a very exclusive opportunity, Josephine.”
She nodded.
“But, no need to be nervous. From what I’ve been told, your previous interviews were very impressive.”
“Thank you,” she said, finally cracking a genuine smile.
“Now,” she continued, opening a folder that could only be Josephine’s. “We know plenty about you biographically, about your transcripts, athletic accomplishments, work experience, etcetera. And, of course, your genetic makeup. But those things don’t constitute a person, do they?”
She shook her head. Maybe that was why this was so uncomfortable — they didn’t know her, and she didn’t know why they wanted her so badly, or what for, exactly. Only that it was ‘exclusive’, and lots of money was involved, and that her mother thought it was very important.
“I’d like to know who Josephine Lorraine really is. So, I’m going to ask some personal questions, and I hope you’ll answer me honestly.”
“I can do that,” she said quickly.
“Perfect. I’ll start simple — why the major change? Sports medicine to communication, with an outside EMT school? What happened there?”
“After one semester, I realized I just wasn’t cut out to do seven years of college. It’s just too much sitting down, you know? It was all just taking too long. I wanted to be out there, helping people, actually doing the work.”
Michelle’s grey eyes flicked across her face with rapt attention.
“But I had to go to college — my parents insisted, I mean. So I picked something valuable, but not too strenuous, and then I completed my EMT training at the same time.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “Let’s talk about your parents. I understand they divorced when you were young.”
So, they were going there. She should’ve expected that.
“How did that impact you?”
Josie shrugged. “They’re amicable. Custody was just a mess because of my mom’s work, but it wasn’t like they fought over me.”
“Right, your mother is currently the U.S. Ambassador to Botswana.”
“She’s been all over. The custody arrangement is really complicated, but I only lived with her full time when she was working in Australia.”
“Are you close with her?”
“She’s my mom. Of course we’re close.” It was ‘breathing down her neck’ kind of close. She could be overbearing even from another country, but to do that and lead an embassy showed that she really cared. Josie didn’t say any of that.
“What about your stepmother? How do you feel about her?”
“Janine? I like her — seriously, a lot, but she’s more like an aunt. You know, in charge, but not someone who really disciplined me.”
Michelle’s face twitched, almost like she wanted to smile. “Were you disciplined often?”
“Um, not in the ‘punished’ sense. I was a good kid, I think most people would tell you that. Personal discipline is just a big thing in our household. My brothers were a bit naughtier, I guess, but they shaped up okay. I’m kidding, they’re sweethearts, but I wouldn’t say it to their faces—”
It was more of that for a while. Family, friends, heartbreak — if she feared death, which she did, but certain kinds more than others. She only worked part-time as an EMT after getting her certification, but she’d seen things she wouldn’t forget. Michelle asked about them. There had been a little boy, around the age her step-brother had been when Josie had met him. He’d hit his head and fallen into a pool unconscious. She’d tried, but she couldn’t get him back. An ex with wandering eyes was nothing compared to that boy. That was real heartbreak.
“When did you start dyeing your hair red?”
Her hair was down and straightened for the interview, almost to her waist — too much hair to wear down often. “A long time ago. Ten years, at least. I bought the dye with my allowance at Rite-Aid, and did it myself before my dad got home.”
“Why in secret? Was he upset?”
She ran a hand through her bright red hair, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “I just wanted to do it. I didn’t want to wait. He liked it, so… no, I didn’t get in any trouble.”
“And you kept it like that all this time?”
“I can’t imagine changing it. It’s just me, you know?”
Michelle nodded, smiling gently. “Of course. It’s very pretty on you.”
“Thank you,” she said, beaming back.
She shut the folder. “We’re about ready to wrap up here. I just have one more question.”
Josie had completely lost track of time. It could’ve been over an hour at this point. Once she got talking, it was hard to stop. Michelle just nodded intently, smiled when appropriate, and constantly pressed for more.
“Do you like comic books?”
The question snapped her out of her thoughts. She blinked at Michelle. “I’ve never owned any, so, probably not, but I can’t really say.”
She hummed. “What about superhero movies?”
“They’re okay,” she said. “I’m not going to yuck anyone’s yum, but I’m more of a rom-com type of person.”
For the first time, Michelle smiled with teeth — freshly whitened and perfectly straight. “Good answer.”
The whole ordeal lingered in her mind for the next few days. She must’ve blown it. When an interviewer asks you to be honest, you should never actually be honest. They don’t mean it. Why had she trusted Michelle Hartley with details about her fears and exes? She had eyes like a therapist — uncritical, attentive, and intelligent. Maybe it was just the glasses. Josie would look terrible in glasses like that. She had a very un-academic look about her.
She prodded at her own face in the mirror, pulling at her cheek, and then smoothing back the freckled skin. She messed with her hair, smoothing the irregular waves, inspecting the light roots peeking through, and then sighed.
What was so special about her genes? If it was just her genes, why all the interviews? Were they going to harvest her eggs? Michelle had asked if she wanted kids someday, somewhere in the ‘lovers’ section, and the answer was an unequivocal yes. Would that impact her chances?
She gripped the clean sink counter. The bathroom was meticulously organized, with a small makeup organizer, a fully stocked medicine cabinet, a hanging shower caddy, a fluffy pink bath mat, and plenty of cleaning supplies. She should have steered the conversation better. Had she told Michelle how orderly she was? How motivated? No, not really. She gave herself a hard look like: ‘Why didn’t you do all that?’ before stalking out.
The carpet of her bedroom was covered with vacuum lines. So she’d been stress cleaning — sue her. Josie had graduated two months ago, and she was still working part-time as an EMT. She was just a part-time EMT with a degree now. Woop-dee-doo.
She flopped down on top of her bedcovers and stared at the ceiling.
People expected better of her. People, being her mother. Her admittedly tiny, but cozy room was littered with medals, trophies, and ribbons — she’d done almost every sport in the book, but only stuck with a few.
The real reason her parents wouldn’t let her drop out of college was because she had a full-ride track and field scholarship. Those weren’t easy to come by. Her dad was easier on her — a little more inclined to indulge her — but he’d been unequivocally on her mom’s side with that one.
She hadn’t signed up for the blood test thinking she'd get money out of it. They were giving out free teddy bears, and she donated blood often anyway. Her mom had said giving your DNA to the government was an idiotic thing to do, but she’d changed her mind when they offered five hundred dollars just to get her back into the clinic for an interview. Then, she’d gotten even more for the next one, and the next one.
The living stipend from her track scholarship was gone, and there was no more hope of sponsorships or an Olympic career for her. She’d slowly transitioned her focus from running to work after getting her certification, knowing she hadn’t signed up for a particularly glamorous or high-paying career. She needed more hours at work, and even then, she’d still be living paycheck to paycheck.
Her mom had laughed when she’d told her how much she made an hour. Her dad tried to talk to her about finances and budgeting almost every time she saw him. It wasn’t like she was desperate to get rich, but if these people were paying just to talk to her — how much could she get if they picked her? If she agreed to let them harvest her genetic tissues or whatever?
Josie closed her eyes and thought about how nice it would be to get a fat check, maybe take a year off doing whatever they wanted, and then go back to being a part-time EMT, go out with her friends more, volunteer at the animal shelter, and adopt a million dogs…
She woke up to her phone buzzing. She’d fallen asleep with her legs hanging off the bed. Josie picked up without checking who was calling, blinking the sleep out of her eyes.
“Hello?” She said blearily.
“Josephine—! This is Michelle Hartley, I’m calling with excellent news for you…”
She jerked upright, holding the phone closer to her ear.
“...you’re our top choice for the program. Congratulations!”
"Wow,” she said quietly. “Thank you.”
“Now, in order to enter official negotiations, we’d like to fly you into our D.C. office as soon as possible. There, we can provide the full details of your involvement, draw up a contract that will suit both parties, and get everything sorted.”
“Fly me in—?”
“—That is,” Michelle continued, talking over her. “If you choose to accept. But I’d highly recommend that you at least come in, hear us out, and see what could be in store for you.”
“Of course, um, when would this all take place?”
“Ideally, we’d get you in by tonight via private aircraft, you can meet a few of the program leads, and we can begin negotiations bright and early tomorrow.”
“Tonight?” she said, a lot squeakier than intended.
“Yes, tonight. I’d suggest packing for at least a week.”
At the risk of sounding like a broken record, she held back from saying ‘A week?’
“How soon do you think we could pick you up?”
Josie shifted in bed, words caught in her throat. “Um, first, thank you so much for the opportunity. I’m extremely flattered,” she began.
“Josephine.” Her voice had lowered in an imploring sort of way. “Our timelines are extremely tight. The sooner we can get started, the better.”
“I understand — it’s just, this is all very short notice, and I’m scheduled to work the next three days, and I’d need to get the time off approved further in advance, and it would just be impossible to find someone to cover three night shifts.”
“We can handle that,” she said, matter-of-factly. “What’s your boss’s number?”
She paused, dumbfounded.
“Actually, I apologize, we’ve already got all your employer information from your resume. Regardless, no need to worry about that. Now, when can I send a car for you?”
Two hours later, Josie was loading two small suitcases and a pink Nike duffel into a black SUV that screamed ‘We are with the government!’ She was jittery the entire drive — freshly showered, in her only pair of slacks, the white fabric hastily pressed, and a summery blue collared blouse. She’d worn the same pants to the interview, and she really hoped Michelle wouldn’t notice. The ratio of athletic to professional wear in her closet was abysmal. She’d packed all of the nice shirts and skirts she owned, and it would barely last her a week.
They had an entire plane for her. An entire plane! They glanced at her ID, took her luggage, and then she was walking up the steps to a private jet.
The interior looked more like a fancy living room than a plane, with giant plush seats, small wooden tables, clean carpets, and a fresh sort of smell. The nervous tingle she got before a big competition was buzzing across her entire body.
Michelle Hartley was waiting for her. She was stretched out, utilizing the absurd amount of leg room, dressed in a slate grey suit, and tapping away at a computer. As Josie stepped inside, she raised her head and smiled, motioning to the seat across from her.
“Have a seat. They don’t bite,” she said, tone light. “We’ll only be in the air for around an hour and a half, but I’m sure you’re used to air travel by now.”
Josie laughed, high and flustered. “Nothing like this,” she said, sinking into the seat. “But yeah, I’m used to flying.”
Michelle just smirked before dipping down to pull a folder out of her purse. “While they’re getting ready to take off, I have a few preliminary documents that need your signature.”
CLASSIFIED INFORMATION NONDISCLOSURE AGREEMENT
AN AGREEMENT BETWEEN __________________ AND THE UNITED STATES
(Name of Individual - Printed or typed)
- Intending to be legally bound, I hereby accept the obligations contained in this Agreement in consideration of my being granted access to classified information. As used in this Agreement, classified information is marked or unmarked classified information…
On her first private jet flight, and facing her first N.D.A. It was looking more and more like she had no idea what she’d really gotten herself into with that little blood test.
She chewed her lip. “Aren’t these typically for government employees? I thought this was going to be research testing?”
Michelle lowered her laptop screen. “This is the standard document for the Department of Defense, but it’s used across many aspects of government involvement. I assure you, it’s a very typical procedure.”
For the first time, Josie wished she had her mom in her ear, giving her advice about the government. “I hereby acknowledge that I have received a security indoctrination concerning the nature and protection of classified information,” she read out loud, tracing the line with her finger.
“The briefing is very simple,” Michelle interrupted. “All information in relation to the program, which I’m not permitted to name until you sign that document, is classified. It’s unlikely you’ll be dealing with many classified documents, but regarding orally transmitted information, you’re required to check that the persons present have the necessary security clearance. This will all be very simple, as in our program center, individuals wear nametags with their clearance, and most areas within the facility are only available to those with the highest clearance.”
She fiddled with Michelle’s pen, still skimming the document.
“With your signature, we’ll be able to reveal exactly what your involvement will entail. Whether you accept or not, that information is classified and will remain classified. You’re required to enter this nondisclosure agreement to be provided any information, and it can never be shared with anyone. Not your parents, not your friends, etcetera, unless you have verified documentation that they are cleared to receive the information. Does that make sense?”
“I understand,” she said, trying to sound firm and not uneasy. “It’s just a very serious commitment.”
Michelle nodded and gave her an empathetic smile. “Of course. You have plenty of time to review it, and I’m here to answer any questions you may have.” She closed her laptop fully, leaning across the table slightly, her serious grey eyes meeting Josie’s concerned green ones. “I don’t want to alarm you, but the next few days may involve several serious commitments. It’s always good practice to ask questions and read everything carefully.” She sat back and smiled again. “I trust that once you understand the nature of our work, you’ll feel more assured in your decision-making. And that begins with this document.”
Josie smiled back, but discomfort had already settled at the back of her neck. It was like sprinting blindfolded, taking stride after stride with no idea what lay ahead of her.
12. I have read this Agreement carefully and my questions, if any, have been answered. I acknowledge that the briefing officer has made available to me the Executive Order and statutes referenced in this agreement and its implementing regulation (32 CFR Part 2001, section 2001.80(d)(2) ) so that I may read them at this time, if I so choose.
SIGNATURE
(May sign manually with a witness, or digitally, as prescribed by agency.)
Josephine Ida Lorraine
DATE
06/15/2011
About the Author
Ethan Andrew is a transgender man who is currently studying creative writing at the University of Iowa. After living on four different continents and surviving cancer, his ‘grab life by the horns’ mentality pushes him to accomplish as much as possible now rather than later. He seeks to complete several novel drafts and publish more short-form projects before graduating at just nineteen years old.
Instagram: @ethanox_7
Cover design made using Canva design tools