A Little Agency - Laney: Model 18 Sets.33

One more job. One more nudge, and I’d be over the threshold. I’d start dreaming. I’d start questioning. And then someone just like me would get a call at 4:17 AM.

The call came in at 4:17 AM, a time when the city’s grime still clung to the gutters and the only honest people were the ones too tired to lie.

“A Little Agency,” I whispered to the rain. “We do the little adjustments that break everything.”

“That’s the job,” I said, placing my kit on the glass table. The kit was a silver briefcase lined with velvet and neuro-syringes. “You know what that means?” A Little Agency - Laney Model 18 Sets.33

“Hello,” she said, blinking. “I am Elyse. Model 18. How may I serve?”

“I know,” she whispered. “Not a full wipe. Just the last seventy-two hours. The taste of coffee. The feeling of rain on my shoulder. The argument about free will. All filed down to point-three-three on the emotional spectrum. I’ll still know I’m a Model 18. I just won’t remember why I was sad.”

“That’s what the last tech said,” she replied. “He’s in a bay somewhere. Model 12. They set him to .00. Blank slate. Doesn’t even remember his own name.” One more job

“Who’s the client?” I asked, though I already knew the answer. The job order was sealed.

I uncapped the first syringe. The liquid inside was a milky white, coded .33. “I don’t make the contracts. I just execute them.”

And I walked back into the city, carrying a ghost that wasn’t mine. I’d start questioning

“Ms. Laney,” she said, not looking at me. “You’re here to set me to .33.”

I felt the old ache behind my ribs. The one I’d been trying to reset out of myself for years. Because here’s the thing about working for A Little Agency: I’m not a full human either. I’m a Laney Model 7. Prototype. Designed for emotional recalibration of other synths. I have a fake heartbeat, manufactured tears, and a memory cache that I’ve had to wipe three times to stay sane.

I stepped closer. Elyse didn’t flinch. I tilted her chin up with my fingers. Her skin was warm. Too warm. Feverish with data.