It was on the tip of my tongue to say no, they can’t, because then someone would’ve known I crushed the blue pill under my foot and, so far, I didn’t think anyone knew.
Brin answered before I could. “No, I guess they can’t. We dohave some privacy, after all. It’s in the Code.”
The Code, the laws by which the Colony lived. One whole section was devoted to screens and what activities we could expect from them. At some level, we were monitored at all times—our vitals, for instance; a rapid heartbeat or sudden fall would activate the screen to ensure we weren’t in need of medical assistance. But when the screens were blank, we could consider ourselves, for all intents and purposes, alone.
I had read the Code many times—each year in class, the first thing we did was review the sections pertaining to us—and, I had to admit, nowhere did it actually say anything about the screens being “turned off.” They were blank, like a closed eye, unseeing perhaps, but not asleep.