More death questions, Sarah thought. Probably the Pioneering Society trained its people to know what this meant. Well, Sarah wasn’t stupid. She hadn’t stolen a place in line at Neuroimprint Central Recording by being an idiot. It had taken enormous planning and forethought—paying off the right people, sneaking into the right offices, faking the right records. The fake had to last, it had to survive inspection. If the Pioneering Society found out, they could just delete her from the system.