Helen sat in a chair, with her hands on her knees. Aside from a bruise from the rough tackle downstairs, and the soreness in her shoulder, she was unharmed. The room was on the top floor of the Lester Sunshine Inn. She was not restrained. There was a bed, and an antique side table with the remains of her recently finished lunch. The cream-colored walls were bare. The wooden floor, also bare, had a sheen of varnish which shone in the afternoon light. A woman entered by the only door and stood across from her. Her eyes were focused out the window.

"I am Reyleena. We apologize for the abrupt nature of your removal from your interaction with Marto. If you don't mind, we want to ask you some questions. We hope you will be open and honest with us. Initial questions will determine your openness and honesty. Later inquiries will involve knowledge you may or may not have to show us."

"And what happens if you determine I am not being honest?" asked Helen, shuddering.

"Then this will take much longer and may involve new augmentations to your neural physiology." Reyleena turned. She was a young, beautiful woman in her late twenties or early thirties with straight red hair and bright blue eyes. Her gaze was fixed far behind Helen, beyond the walls of this room. "Understand we do not currently consider you a physical threat to our community, but there is a strong likelihood you have arrived carrying information which may be related to a potential attack on this and other tribes. We brought you here to keep that information from revealing itself prematurely."

"Who is we?" Helen was unnerved by the woman's far off stare. She began to get the idea her eyes were sightless or watching for changes in data, or both.

"This is worthy of clarification. In this case, 'we' does not signify the entirety of the tribe, only myself and one other. Our conversation is private here. None but us three are part of it. This is how it must be, and I cannot tell you all the reasons why. Only that it is a matter of gravest security."

"Will I meet this – other?" Helen had an uneasy feeling about the unseen participant.

"No, however, the other is with me. You may talk to us both. Now, are you ready to begin?"

"Yes," Helen said, straightening in her chair.

"First, you said you came from Livings-town in The Jersey. Is this correct?"

"Yes."

"Did your trip originate from there?"

"No."

"Where did you start your journey?"

"Pittsburgh," Helen said. She didn't want to find out what the longer option was for her inquisition. She glanced at the only door. She knew it was unlocked and that leaving was not an option.

"And your name. Is it really Helen?"

"Helen isn't my given name. It's the name I chose for myself."

"Will you tell us your given name?" Reyleena stood perfectly still, staring through her.

"If I tell you, will you promise to hear me out? I want to tell you why I am here. I want you to trust me. I also want to trust you. I came here to find Marto."

"We are interested only in the safety of our tribe and all of the tribes," Reyleena returned. "You can trust we will do what is necessary to protect our way of life here. We will not harm you, if you don't pose a threat to us. We are not unnecessarily violent."

Helen rubbed her shoulder. Right, she thought. She wondered if Reyleena could hear her think, even if she didn't try to thext. The woman was spooky. "I was born Estelle Reynolds. My mother is Gladys Reynolds of the Pittsburgh Estates. My grandmother's name was Helen. I have taken her name in honor of her wisdom and perspective. I am an outcast from my family. A year ago, I became involved with a tribe outside of Pittsburgh..."

"Wyland Tribe?" Reyleena asked.

"Yes, my family raided the stores of grain from another nearby tribe called Venetia, I think. I was part of that raid. I got lost and was taken in by the members of Wyland. I had been wounded and was only semi-conscious. I lived with them for nine months, attaining a communications implant and this." She ran her fingers through the green flowering plant-like growth atop her head. "The longer I stayed with them, the more I longed for the life of the Interconnected communities, but I was worried I would be found and brought back to Pittsburgh, bringing more destruction to the tribe who had been so kind to me, so I headed east."

"We know this," Reyleena stated flatly. "We are glad you have shared your birth name with us. This is a sign of trust. However, you claim you are a mandatory verbal, and yet decided to stay with a tribe who only communicate in thext. Can you explain this to us?"

"Not well, I'm afraid. It's embarrassing. I have trouble thexting. I was brought up with speech, for too long perhaps. It is really hard for me. I learned some of the people in and outside of the tribes called themselves Mandatory Verbals and Voluntary Verbals. When I called myself a Mandatory, it was respected, but really, it's because I can't do it very well, if at all. If you want, I can try to thext with you here."

"Not necessary. Moving on. We were aware, through our connections with Wyland, that you had been brought in. Much discussion about the safety of your presence there after healing your injuries took place among the security officers of the eastern tribes. Your desire to become more like us struck us as sincere, even though you couldn't thext. We know of your life in Pittsburgh. You walked away from a wealthy family. Why?"

Helen paused. She didn't like to think about her life with Gladys and the rest. She had been treated like an oddball, a defect. "I never fit in there. I tried. No matter what I did, it was never enough for them. I hate them." Helen was surprised to hear herself admit this. It was true.

"Understood. You didn't belong. This makes sense. We are not all born into communities where we fit. So, you ended up in Wyland and felt more at home. This also makes sense. If you had traveled directly from Wyland to here, we would have no questions for you. But we know you did not."

"Right," Helen sighed. "I went to New Atlantic. I stopped in at many interconnected communities on the way there, and I suppose it's how you knew my route. I wanted to see a friend of mine. My purpose was to try to persuade her to join with me and escape to Livings-town, which I had been told about, or go back to Wyland with her."

"Why?"

"I thought she was an outcast like me. I thought Lita would never find a way to fit in where she was. I wanted to rescue her. I guess I wanted to be a hero."

"How do you know Lita?" Reyleena tilted her head. This looked like a sign she genuinely didn't know about her; a rarity, perhaps.

"She works for the Yoniver family. I've known her since I was young. I love her. I don't know if she loves me. I always hoped she did."

There was a pause, during which it seemed Reyleena was gathering new data. "Lita « Tara « Isabella « Paula « Galina « Natalya « Renata « Kristina « Iskra « Dominika « Fanya « Tatiana « etc., yes. So, you went to see her in New Atlantic. Weren't you afraid of being discovered?"

"I disguised myself as a man. I wore a hat to cover my modification. I had a large coat, and soot on my face. I was approaching her home at night when it happened."

"What happened, exactly?"

"Maria found me. Recognized me immediately. She pulled me aside and told me it was vitally important we talk in private. I protested, but she was insistent. She is Barnabas Yoniver's maidservant."

"She is also Marto's mother," Reyleena said. Helen was surprised.

"You know? Maria said he had forgotten her. Is this true? Why have you kept this from him?"

"It's complicated," Reyleena said. "We have good reasons to keep her identity secret from Marto. It is for both his and her safety. Please continue. What happened then?"

"Well, I mean, she took me back to her home, hiding from the constables and loyalists. She sat me down and implored me to find Marto here. She said Lita had become a loyalist after her father died and it was not safe to see her. I was devastated." Helen paused, fighting her emotions, failing. Reyleena produced a handkerchief. Helen accepted. Reyleena waited. "She tried to tell me what she needed me to do was more important than trying to turn Lita away from the town. She said that if I went to Lita, I would only get caught. Maria then told me she had an implant much like mine in her head. She had naturally hidden the fact from her boss. She came right out and told me she was a xombie spy. I was shocked. It was so dangerous. If Barnabas ever found out he would torture and kill her. She led me to her basement, put her head close to mine, and then she transferred two packets of data into my implant. I didn't even know it could be done. I have been carrying them in there ever since."

Reyleena's eyes found Helen's. Immediately, she felt ill. She was pulling a copy of the data directly from her head. The speed of the transfer and her ability to find it so quickly alarmed Helen. Helen began to yell.

"WHAT! WAIT! YOU..." and it was done.

"Please excuse us," Reyleena said, and left.

Helen grunted and sagged in her chair. She felt violated. She knew what she carried was important, and her purpose here was to share it, but she was not ready to part with it so abruptly. It was supposed to go to Marto, though Marto would have shared it with security, and Reyleena was security. "Breathe," she told herself. She began to practice her grandmother's technique to calm herself. "Breathe." Reyleena seemed so odd, so alien, and so unlike the other interconnected people she had met. "Breathe." She hoped she had not made a terrible mistake.

Hours went by. The sun set. Helen walked to the bed and lay down. The Inn was quiet, as always. Bats squeaked outside, devouring insects. Helen fell into an uneasy sleep.

Hours later, she opened her eyes. She could hear engines in the distance. She recognized them immediately as Raiders; the brutal tool of landed families like hers. She roused herself and walked to the window. From where she stood, she could make out the tiny shapes of the bikers crossing the old bridge in the moonlight. They made it halfway and fell, sliding to a halt. The noise died away. The bridge was motionless again. The town returned to its half-lit silence. After standing and watching for several minutes, she returned to her bed and fell back asleep.

She slept well into the morning. When she woke, Reyleena was in the room and there was breakfast on the table. Helen was hungry, having not eaten since her late lunch the day before. She savored a wrap filled with soy strips, peppers and a delicious sauce she couldn't identify, but which reminded her of the spicy mayonnaise their cook whipped up in the old manor in Pittsburgh. Reyleena waited for her to finish.

"We thank you for delivering the data, Helen. I wish I could have taken it from you more gently, but time is of the essence. Now, there are two things we need from you and then you can be on your way. I imagine you will try to find Marto at the request of his mother. We have no objection to that. For this reason, we will leave you the data packet intended for him. The other must be deleted."

Helen stiffened. "Can you please try to do that slowly this time?"

"Yes," nodded Reyleena. "It's already in progress. You will not feel a thing this time. Again, we apologize."

"So, you are okay with Marto finding out about his mother now? What has changed?" Helen did feel something, but it was not like before, rather a kind of tingling, or itching inside her skull.

"Something is going to happen, not only here, but throughout the Interconnected communities, which cannot be stopped. When it does, we hope you will have been able to find Marto and share with him the memories of his mother and father. He has forgotten them. It was necessary. Given the events we are anticipating will happen, we think he would want us to return those memories to him. When all is done, he may yet want to seek her out, if he can."

"What is going to happen?"

"Knowledge of our plans is protected." Reyleena walked to the pitcher of water on the table and poured herself a glass. "This is how it must be. There will be great suffering before everything plays out, and we don't know the exact sequence of events or their timing. This is all we can say. We have told you enough to implore you not to share even this information with anyone, not even Marto. If you feel you cannot keep this secret, you must remain here until the events have passed."

"You have my word, I will not share it," said Helen, eager to get out of the room.

"The last thing we ask is you delay your conversation with Marto until tomorrow or the next day. When you do talk to him, make sure you are both offline, in a secure and private location before sharing the data. In the meantime, please get to know our community here. I imagine you will enjoy your stay in Reverside. We strongly recommend you practice your thexting, as it is the rule of our tribe not to engage in unnecessary speech. We anticipate you will have help with it. You may sleep in this room tonight if you like, or if preferable lodging is offered, please accept it and give ratings. We know you understand how it works. You are free to go."

Helen rose and walked to the door. Reyleena remained as she was, motionless, staring through the wall.

Helen walked out the doors of the old Inn, down a winding path and onto the main streets of Reverside. The town was well off, if the term made any sense here, far better than the communities she had been to in The Jersey. Everyone was silently going about their business. She concentrated on opening the inputs of her communications implant to allow thexts from within a five-kilometer radius. She began to receive messages of welcome from the surrounding Interconnected.

["Hi Helen,"] thexted LalaUbriay, whose name came to her as Yolanda « Trina « Dierdre « Tasha « etc. ["Sorry you were so roughly treated. I saw it happen. Security takes no chances here. I hope you are feeling better. Want to join us for a cup of tea?"] Directions were sent. Helen followed them via her implant. She didn't have enough expertise yet to get visual indications for her route, which would have come in handy. ["Walk north on Broadway 2 km until you see a blue square home with a dog painted on the side."] She did. ["Turn left on Franklin and follow for 62 steps until you see two sleeping cats."] She did. To her right was a small booth with tables set around it. People were sitting, eating and drinking from teacups. A young woman with tight, curly brown hair and a round freckled face held her hand up to signal to Helen that she had arrived.

["I guess you don't get visuals yet,"] Lala thexted. ["I was under a gigantic green arrow, but you couldn't see that. This is Piter"]

Next to her, a young man with straight black hair and a bright red shirt put up his hand. ["and this is Mem."] Next to Piter was an older person with gray hair and a short cream-colored dress, who nodded and smiled. Helen couldn't make out their gender, and it occurred to her that he or she was someone who did not choose or chose not to choose. The idea was new to her.

["Hello,"] Helen thexted as best she could. ["I ... ma Helen ... I ... I"]

["Oh honey, you are having trouble with this aren't you?"] Mem sent. ["We can help. Okay? I'm going to send you a word, and you send it back, ready?"] Mem paused. ["Radish"]

Helen concentrated. She knew she was trying too hard. She could receive information with no problems, but sending it was so taxing. She had gotten by in the other communities with nods and by speaking quietly, but it was finally time to learn this. ["Radiich"] she finally sent.

["Close enough!"] Mem smiled. ["Lala?"]

Lala giggled aloud, then sent ["Tribal"]

Helen's eyes were staring up as if she were trying to look into her own skull. ["Ribet hull"]

["Let's try it again,"] Lala sent back. ["You are thinking too much. Don't be worried about making mistakes. You will get it. Tribal"]

["Tribal"] Helen was shocked at how easily she got it.

["Flower,"] Piter thexted, staring at the top of Helen's head.

["Skull, Head-Brains. Powder! Wait,"] Helen sent back, and then laughed. ["Wait, ... Flower. Flower – Flower Flower Top."] There was more laughter. Tea arrived. Helen spent the morning practicing with her companions, sipping a spicy sweet tea in black cups which made no sound when you put them in their saucers. The time passed quickly.

Mem yawned. They said they had been up all night. ["I usually do my best creations when everyone else is asleep,"] they said, yawning again. ["Last night I had company though. Poor Marto."]

["Mmarto?"] Helen asked. ["You sew him list naught?"] Laughter.

Everyone was getting a kick out of Helen's messy thexting, but she was steadily improving.

["Yes, he came to see me. Couldn't sleep. That happens after those midnight Raider games, sometimes."]

["Raider ga... games?"] Helen was confused. ["On the bradge? Ridge? B-Ridge? I saw it. From ... my wendy ... wind oh."]

["Oh, yes. Well, sometimes it's a drill, and sometimes it's real. I guess last night it was real if you saw it. Anyway, Marto couldn't sleep and he came and saw me. Said he was headed out today on his tour. I'm going to follow him. They're usually great."] They paused, looking at the treetops. ["He's on an old bridge. The Boston Post Road, must be. Took the unicycle! Fun."]

Lala and Piter both got a faraway look in their eyes which reminded Helen of Reyleena's stare, but softer. ["Ha ha!"] Piter thexted, ["He's got Driscoll's seed-bars with him. He just posted a few lines. I'll read them later to get caught up. Oh! He's fallen! Chipmunk crossing! Whoops! Loop it! Good idea, Mem. I love following his travels."]

["He's not ... drehmm ... wait ... he is not in Reverse-Side?"] Helen was dismayed. She thought this place was going to be the end of her long journey.

["No honey, he's traveling,"] replied Mem. ["He does that every year. It's his 'book tour.' He travels as he writes. Saves us the trouble of going out there. We all just follow along and read his commentary. The guy really knows how to get people to open up. He has a fresh take on so many ordinary things. I'm a big fan of his work."]

["Me too!"] thexted Lala. ["Three!"] thexted Piter.

["So, you know... where ... he is going?"] Helen was proud of being able to send it without errors. Her new friends beamed.

["Oh sure,"] Lala replied. ["We inhabit him while he travels. That's what "follow" means. We see what he sees, hear what he hears. Right now, not much is happening, but it will get interesting before too long. Hey, I bet we could teach you to do that. Do you want to learn how to follow him too? I think you need a small upgrade. We can get it for you."]

All at once Helen understood why Reyleena had told her she needed to stay in town a day or two and learn how to thext. Marto was gone, and Helen was going to need a new implant, and to learn how to follow before she could catch up with him.