[ WP ] In a world where people can buy and sell skills , you work at a skill pawn shop and someone is trying to pawn a skill that you ca n't value or appraise .

`` Here it is,'' the wrinkled old man said, sliding a small, circular object on the table towards me. I picked it up and examined it closely, rolling it in my fingers. `` What's in this one?'' I asked. `` Something very valuable.'' 
 
 In the business, they're called'badges'. A few decades ago, we learned how to put our knowledge, skills, and even memories into these little tokens for safekeeping. It's good for a few reasons: badges do n't forget, like our brains can, and they can be bought and sold from person to person. 
 
 People got hooked, and everything changed. 
 
 Education is completely different now. With badges, we do n't have to have all our children sit in a classroom for hours on end; their parents just buy them the skills they need when they get old enough. We still have students, but their job is to learn a subject and put it in a badge, sell it, and start again. The good thing is that since people can change what they know, they can hop from lifestyle to lifestyle and find what really makes them happy. Sometimes, things can go wrong. 
 
 Like one of my coworkers, actually, became a student when some sad fella at the University sold us his ability to learn, and he bought it up from him, thinking he could make more money. He's completely different now. Occasionally, he'd come in here and rant about the whole thing being `` like a modern Sisyphus'', and the next day he'd forgotten it. I tell him he was much happier here with me in the shop, but he does n't believe me. He says he can see things so much more clearly now, and he ca n't imagine going back to being like me, and that I should get out while I still can. 
 
 Maybe he's right: appraising badges is tougher work than you might think. You ca n't really tell what's in a badge just by looking at it, and you generally ca n't trust the guy selling it to you in my line of work. So the only way to check is to use it, see what it contains, jot down notes about it, then remake the badge from that knowledge. 
 
 Sometimes they bring in really good stuff that's tempting to keep. One man came in here and sold his memories of a beautiful vista he saw on his travels. I bought that one for myself on the spot. I ca n't imagine what he needed the money for. I guess he thought he could just get a memory like that back from some other pawn shop someday or something. 
 
 Sometimes they bring in... People try to dump bad memories off on me. I'm obligated to make sure I'm not selling dangerous stuff to my customers, so I got ta check each and every badge they bring in. I remember the first time it happened, just a few weeks after I started. A lady, about 25 or so, came in here with the happiest smile you could ever see on a person. She plinked down a badge and said, `` I do n't need this anymore. You can get rid of it for me.'' She left without any sort of payment. I sighed, and figured I'd at least look into it. 
 
 The first thing I learned was why she was smiling that day. Imagine something happened to you that you could n't escape, that you would relive every day of your life. Then imagine someone comes along and says they can erase that, put it into this small little thing, where it could n't hurt you anymore. 
 
 I... do n't want to talk about what was on it. As soon as I could, I put those torments into another little badge and fucking burned it. 
 
 And then, I learned that you ca n't really ever get all the stuff out. Little ghosts of information haunt you. The bad memories make you feel fear, anger, confusion, the good ones pride, confidence, happiness, all out of your control. When you need to do some task, you'll suddenly know how to do it, then forget how. Other people's thoughts start crowding out your own, the more you take in. You can try to ignore them, if you're strong enough, but... 
 
 I activated the old man's badge, let the knowledge swarm over me. I wracked my brain and felt -- 
 
 `` There's nothing,'' I replied. 
 `` Yes,'' the old man said. `` There is nothing.'' 
 
 I sat, stunned, for what seemed like forever. Nothing. Quiet. In this shop of infinite knowledge, the ability to shut everything out -- only the sound of silence gave me what I wanted. 
 
 `` I... I ca n't...'' I murmured. `` You can make the call,'' I finished, cutting him a blank check. When he left, I quickly locked the door, closing up early. I snuck out the back door. 
 
 I was free.
