“You won’t find a job even doing manual labor for minimum wage without a frame,” the employment commission clerk told Zoe two months later. “And even if you had one, the waiting list for those jobs is nine months long. The wait list for any skilled job is two years or longer.”

“Isn’t there anything I can do?

“You’re attractive enough to find a lot of work as a dame. It’s legal work these days,” the woman said. “Though, your looks won’t last doing that.”

“What’s a dame?” Zoe asked suspiciously. She had never heard the term before but thought she knew what the woman was talking about.

“My, you are inexperienced, aren’t you?” The clerk laughed. “Dame is slang for prostitute.”

“Oh. I would never do that. What about government assistance?” Zoe said.

“Welfare only lasts for six weeks and since you don’t have a frame, it’ll take at least six months to get you into the system and probably another six months to get the first check.”

“That’s insane!”

“Really? Just how long did you wait to see me?” the clerk asked.

“Six hours at least,” Zoe admitted. She should have known that New York was filled with people that needed assistance and work. She had passed several alleys filled with those living in boxes, under tarps, and the like.

“Look, I’d like to help, but my hands are tied,” the clerk said. “Are you willing to take some advice?”

“Sure.”

“Get a frame. To truly live in the world, you need one.”

“You might be right, but I can’t afford one.”

“You said you were living with family, right?”

“Yeah.”

“People upgrade their frames just like they do their clothes. Why don’t you see if they have an old frame, they will give you? That, or maybe see if they could loan you the money to buy a used or basic frame.”

“Thanks,” Zoe said standing up. “And thanks for the advice too.”

“You’re welcome. Good luck,” the clerk replied as Zoe walked out of her cubicle. The clerk took a moment to save Zoe’s file in the city database, took a sip of her lukewarm coffee, and yelled, “Next!”

*

Zoe shut the apartment door, hung her coat on the rack, walked into the living room, and collapsed onto the couch.

“Had that good of a day?” Jimmy asked grinning.

“No,” Zoe muttered without lifting her head from the cushion. “I’ve spent the last few weeks looking for work and not found anyone that will even give me an interview.”

Anne, Jimmy’s mother walked in from the kitchen, looked down at Zoe, and smiled. She brushed Zoe’s hair from her face. “Are things that bad?”

“Yes,” Zoe answered. She recounted her day including what the employment commission clerk had told her about working as a dame. Jimmy coughed to cover up a laugh earning a glare from his mother.

“Sadly, the clerk is correct. Nobody will hire someone that doesn’t have a frame. Even the homeless people on the streets have them,” Anne informed Zoe.

“But getting a frame goes against everything I was raised and taught to believe,” Zoe complained sitting up.

“That’s true, but take it from me, what we were taught is wrong,” Anne replied sitting beside Zoe and putting her arm around her niece.

“I can give you my old frame,” Jimmy offered his cousin.

“Why would you offer your cousin that old piece of junk? You make more than enough to get her something decent and have it installed,” Anne said.

“Uh…”

“Son don’t play dumb. I know what you do and who you work for,” Anne replied.

“I was hoping that wasn’t the case,” Jimmy said.

“Oh? Why is that?” Anne asked. Zoe smiled enjoying the back and forth.

“I wanted to surprise you when I got made,” Jimmy answered.

“That’s sweet dear, but people gossip too much for that to happen.”

“That’s true,” Jimmy admitted. “Zoe, I can pay like mom said if you want.”

“I can’t take advantage of you like that,” Zoe replied. “I’ll still need a job, which looks near impossible to find.”

“You could always take up the offer Tommy mentioned.”

“What offer?” Anne asked as Zoe frowned.

“Tommy offered Zoe a dancer job,” Jimmy answered.

“I don’t like that idea,” Anne said.

“Me either,” Zoe added.

“Capone is a decent sort, but he’s still mafia,” Anne said. “And the mafia only looks at women as wives, mistresses, or dames.”

“It’s not like the old days,” Jimmy replied. “Nucky has often used female couriers.”

“Ha. That’s only because even the mafia won’t mess with good couriers because they’re afraid of getting blacklisted by the transport companies.”

“You work for the mob?” Zoe asked Jimmy in alarm.

“That’s right,” Jim answered proudly. “How else do you think we can afford this nice apartment, food, and clothes? This part of Brooklyn isn’t cheap.”

“And you don’t mind?” Zoe asked her aunt.

“No. There are worse things my Jimmy could be doing. The other gangs know not to mess with Capone’s crew. New York is not the farm,” Anne replied. Jimmy nodded in agreement though he had never stepped foot on a farm before. “Sometimes, you do what you have to do.”

“I’m surprised,” Zoe admitted. She had not realized just how different her urbanite family was from her parents and the rest living on the farm were. “But does doing what you have to do include stripping?”

“Perhaps for some. But not you. You have us to help ease you into city life and guide you along,” Anne said giving her niece a side hug. “I was all alone when I first came to the city, wouldn’t get a frame, and fell into some situations I won’t talk about. I also did some things I’m not proud of.”

“That’s true and I’m sorry you had to go through some bad experiences,” Zoe agreed returning the hug.

“It’s part of life,” Anne replied. “Learn from my experience even if I won’t explain things more.”

Zoe thought back to the motorcycle courier they saw when she arrived in the city. “So, couriers are just private delivery people?”

“Basically,” Jimmy replied nodding his head. “A few of the corporations have tried to run their own courier outfits, but since they don’t trust each other, that has always failed.”

“Why don’t people just send the data in an email or use a drone?” Zoe asked. “Why use a person instead?”

“Unlike frames, bots, drones, data crystals, and email, brains can’t be hacked. Couriers give up part of their unused brain as secure storage space literally getting chipped,” Jimmy replied. “They have to willingly accept and transfer data.”

“Couldn’t they be tortured to do so?” Zoe asked.

“Nope. Secure storage spaces have certain safeguards that nobody, including the corps will bypass.”

“And those safeguards keep the data secure as well as the host or person of sound mind,” Zoe concluded. “What about viruses?”

“You got it,” Jimmy said. “Secure storage spaces are equipped with the most advanced ICE available. That said, frames can be infected by viruses.”

“That doesn’t make a lot of sense,” Zoe replied.

“As Jimmy said, those secure storage chips are protected by the most secure ICE that has been created. Frames are not. Just like the computer you used on the farm, they can be sliced,” Anne added.

“Why doesn’t everyone give up part of their unused brains to store their data then? It seems that would be the best way to protect one’s data,” Zoe asked. “Do couriers get paid well?”

“Too expensive for most, and yeah, couriers get paid well once they get a good reputation,” Anne answered.”

“Heck, even the bad ones make decent bank. Most people don’t like the idea of permanently adding memory chips to their brains too,” Jimmy answered. “Another reason everybody doesn’t get secure storage spaces is that some don’t like the idea of having another permanent data port attached to their heads in addition to their crystal readers.”

“Wait. I would have a permanent data sticking out of my head if I was a courier?” Zoe asked imagining a data access port on a desktop PC.

“No. It doesn’t stick out. The data port is female like crystal readers,” Jimmy replied starting to make lewd gestures with his fingers. “Which means…”

“I know what it means!” Zoe snapped. Jimmy grinned.

“Jimmy, you take too much pleasure in that joke,” Anne chided her son.

“I thought everything was wireless,” Zoe said.

“Sorry mom. Sorry Zoe,” Jimmy replied. “The data port is small and usually sits behind the ear so it’s easy to find just like a crystal reader. Normally under the opposite ear the crystal reader is behind. Though, some people have them together.”

“Wireless is everywhere, but is still slower than wired connections,” Anne said.

“Wired was always more secure in the past,” Zoe added showing that she wasn’t a total newb.

“That’s true,” Jimmy agreed. “It still is.”

“Guess, I have no choice if I’m going to live here, but to get a frame,” Zoe muttered. Anne patted her hand as Zoe started looking thoughtful. “Jimmy, does your boss make loans? In the movies and TV shows the mob always does.”

“Sure, money lending is a traditional mafia task.” Jimmy answered. “Why?”

“Would they loan me money to get chipped and enough to buy some wheels?” Zoe asked.

“The mob charges high interest,” Anne warned. “Why are you asking?”

“I think I would like to be a courier,” Zoe replied. “Jimmy did say they make good money, and I wouldn’t have to have experience. Just go from place to place.”

“It’s not quite that simple, but you do have a point,” Anne conceded.

“Give me a sec and I’ll call Tony,” Jimmy replied after the trio descended into silence. A moment later he started talking to someone else. A few minutes later he put his boss on hold and turned his attention back to his family. “Tony says Mr Capone wants to meet personally with any person before giving them a loan. He wants to make sure that they understand what happens if they take money and can’t pay it back.”

“When would I have to meet this Mr Capone?” Zoe asked.

“Lunch tomorrow,” Jimmy answered.

“Ok,” Zoe replied. Jimmy turned his attention back to Tony.

“It’s all setup,” Jimmy said a moment later. “And Zoe?”

“Yeah?”

“Dress nice.”

“Uh Jimmy.”

“Yeah?”

“This is the nicest outfit I have.”

“Jimmy will take you shopping,” Anne said before Jimmy could say anything else.