“So what are we doing again?”
“Lost Day!” Raquel, Smith Tertia Vestis, grabbed Ward, Jones Secondus Ludicrum, by the hand, dragging him down the hall of the megacomplex.
“You misplaced a day? There’s a bureau for that.”
“No, no. It’s my personal holiday. I get to take one person with me, and I tapped you.”
“Don’t I have some say in the matter?”
“If you ever read your forms, you would have.” She stopped to grin at him. “Look, it’s just an extra holiday for you, because my Personal Holiday Form says I require a friend to celebrate Lost Day with.”
“What, pray tell, is Lost Day?” He held up his free hand. “If you tell me it’s your personal holiday again, I’m going to throw things.”
“I started back in University. The first time was an accident – I missed a day of classes because I’d gone driving with a friend and gotten lost, so I had to burn a personal day to stay out of trouble. After that, well, I’d declared Being Lost to be my personal holiday.”
“Seriously? How do you celebrate that?”
“Like this.” She took a random left turn down a hall. “It’s why it’s celebrated on a Saturday.”
“It’s… Raquel, what’s in the backpack?”
“Three days’ worth of food and clothing for both of us, and enough chits for restaurants and hotels if we can find one. We’re getting lost, Ward. Really, truly, Lost.”
“I…” She had an amazingly strong grip. “I bet this was easier when there were cars.”
“This was easier,” she confided, “before all the Regulations.”
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