Gave a knock. “Nir?”

  “Yes. Who am I speaking with?”

  “Name is Dahra. Professor Miye Jonas sent me.” Smiled at the door threshold, then continued. “Step by step, we remember our way forward.”

  Blink. Gaze. “Well, then. Why don’t you come on in.”

  “Thank you, Nir, so much.”

  Been here in Vinlandia for a while now and haven’t met Susine face to face. No idea if ever will. She lives, by choice, somewhere out in the woods surrounding the village. Nir “introduced” us to each other by showing how to leave her provisions at an agreed-upon place, at a certain time.

  Susine and I exchange pulp notes with each drop off. One time I left the version of her journal that was in my waist pouch. She got a kick out of it. I consider her a friend. Hoping she feels the same about me.

  Brivo was skeptical-concerned, at first, that I was a spy, loaded with sophisticated-nefarious memories to infiltrate their relatively peaceful existence here. Understandable.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Turns out Briv is almost as curious-stubborn as myself. And he's the only other adolescent I know who cultivates wild mems. We laugh over ancient knock-knock humor. And we're researching what happened to Professor Jonas.

  Not gonna divulge details so as to protect sources, but will say that the strip of pulp, dropped by Seebi, had this information written on it: “#MJ to BoSa.”

  Our hypothesis: Professor Miye Jonas was traded to Body Salvage at some point.

  Briv and I won't stop until we know what happened. Gotta honor Professor Miye's memory.

  And, noting it here for the record-- this morning a drone swarm blared a general announcement: “The Mechanical Establishment formally engulfs the colony of Vinlandia, effective immediately. All previous territorial agreements are nullified-erased and officially forgotten.”

  So much for promises made. We don't need to wait and see. We remember. We know.

  Briv and I leave in a few minutes. Nir and Susine have other plans.

  So.

  This story-- woven of my raw, free remembering and my natural forgetting…

  Conferring it to you. For safe keeping.

  If possible, I'll keep it too. Aiming to write more chapters…

  We fear no moment. Step by step… we remember our way forward.

  Or, as I seem to remember Prof once saying, “Give 'em Hell!”

  Sincerely me,

  Dahra