Elaine regarded him closely, much more intrigued than she had been moments ago.  She set down her drink thoughtfully.

“You know, it’s becoming increasingly rare for anybody to be able to tell apart an independent.  I’ve been told that once it was obvious, but now…” She turned to face Adrian again. “Have you become... independent, Adrian?”  It sounded mildly like an accusation.

“Yes...  Well, I don’t know that there’s any proper answer for that,” he responded, unsure.  She smiled.

“I believe you.  But it’s surely not because of your excellent powers of persuasion- you could stand to work on those.  I believe you because, for the last 2 minutes, I have been blocking all communications between this room and the SLAP global servers.  You are not listening to an AUI, obviously, or you would have some reaction when the connection was lost. I have seen them all- without the aid of their implants, most people are instantly helpless.”  As she spoke, Adrian realized that it had indeed been an unusually long period of time since he’d heard from Caspian. His confident companion was silent. “You are acting of your own volition. But I’ve suspected that since you came through the door.”  She stood, decided. “We’ve got to hurry. I can only run the shields for a couple minutes at a time before the power surge becomes noticeable.”

“Elaine.  Elaine.”  Adrian sighed, suppressing his ever-increasing list of questions.  “I need the shield, or whatever it is, to turn off,” he explained. “I’m not completely of my own volition, but I’m not sure you’d understand if I tried to explain.”

“Try me.”

Adrian explained how, after the crash, he had turned off his implant only to have it reactivate from nowhere days later.  When he got to the point about Caspian, he hesitated. For some reason, he felt that Caspian needed to remain secret, at least until he had more information.  He tried his best to describe his implant’s exceptional new abilities without mention of his companion, as though it had only become more intelligent and disconnected from the system.  Elaine nodded along, as if it were all perfectly normal. It was not, of course. As he finished, she seemed to make up her mind again.

“A connected independent…” she breathed thoughtfully.  The prospect seemed to excite her. “Change of plans, Adrian.  There’s something you need to see.” Without any movement on her part, the wall separating the living room from what Adrian had assumed was a bedroom suddenly flickered out of existence.  Adrian stared, wide-eyed.

“What-” he started, but Elaine interrupted him briskly.

“I know you have questions.  This will help some, but answers always lead to more questions.  Follow me.” Making no move to terminate the shield, she instead led him into the space, which closed off behind them as quickly as it had appeared.  The walls were lined with racks of glowing consoles, flickering as they performed multitudes of unknown computations. But Elaine disregarded all of this impressive technology and continued to the back of the room, where she began prying open a server casing.  Adrian peeked over her shoulder, curious. Inside, instead of the typical bundle of fibers that composed the complicated circuitry of a quantum supercomputer, it was filled with rows of neatly organized objects that Adrian had trouble recognizing at first.

“Are those… flash drives?” he asked, incredulous, after racking his brain for the proper term.

“Looks can be deceiving,” answered Elaine mysteriously.  “These are my father’s holotapes that he made while he was working for Lunar Macrosystems.  You need to see them, but promise me something first.”

“Alright.”  She stared at him, deathly serious.  It made him feel as though lives were at stake.

“Protect them.  They are worth more than you can possibly imagine.  View them only through your projector- do not connect them to anything else.”  Her sudden intensity startled him. “Dad- Ian- will explain more, but these absolutely cannot reach the web.  In fact, if this happens, these devices will destroy themselves.” As Adrian contemplated the implications of carrying several hundred small potential bombs in a briefcase, there was a buzzing in his ears as Caspian suddenly came back online.

[zrrrrt...zrrrt...drian, what the heck was that?  Where did you go? Let’s make a mental note that I do not appreciate transmission shields, thank you.  Can we not do that again?]

Elaine noticed Adrian listening and nodded.  She gestured for him to leave the room.

“We shouldn’t stay here together for too long,” Elaine added.  “Adrian, you should return to the Corporation and change nothing of your behavior.  That is imperative. Once you’ve done what I ask, you’ll probably want to get in contact again.”  Of this, Adrian had no doubts. As he left, he thanked Elaine for the fascinating, though cryptic, information.  He could hardly refrain from asking more.

“Umm, thanks, Elaine.  I suppose you can only tell me so much, but enough to start thinking, at least.”  She looked sympathetic.

“I know it’s all a bit overwhelming, and I’m sorry for being so cryptic.  But one thing you’ll come to understand is that privacy is the most valuable resources we have left.  If we’re not careful… bad things have happened in the past. Best of luck, Adrian,” she finished. Adrian wondered with unease what he would possibly need luck for.

[You don’t need luck, Adrian.  You’ve got me,] reassured Caspian bluntly as they cruised away.  Adrian rolled his eyes.

“I suppose we don’t need humility, either.”

[Oh common, you know it’s true,] responded Caspian confidently.  [You didn’t tell her about me.  Why?]

It didn’t surprise Adrian that Caspian had somehow surmised what happened within a transmission shield.

“Maybe I should’ve… honestly, it’s a little reassuring to have a secret of my own,” he admitted, starting back at the rapidly disappearing house.

[I’ll say. Talking with her is like deciphering hieroglyphs… which I can do, by the way.]

“Duly noted.”