The Wakeful Wanderer's Guide to Disillusionment

Forgotten

The woods west of Pi Central were sparse. Young trees, mostly pine, maple and oak, grew up in the 40-year absence of development here, but you could still make out the foundations of homes. The ground was littered with siding, lumber, and broken glass. Roads still ran through the forested areas, thinned to crumbling ribbons by the encroaching growth. Sometimes plastic and copper piping lay about, though many of these materials had been harvested and reclaimed. There were stretches of pure wilderness, with nothing underfoot, which may have been preserved from before the collapse of the Great Tide. There were also some settled areas here and there, connected by improved roads, but these Helen avoided. She meandered into uncharted territory, led by the position of the sun. As instructed by Mem and Thirty/Fourteen, she had switched all of her implants off, save one.

As night approached, she sought shelter in abandoned buildings not yet reclaimed by the trees. She found a stone shed with no roof that was otherwise intact on the first night and made camp inside, lighting a fire at one end, and setting up her tarp and sleeping bag. Thirty had packed a series of wrapped sandwiches for her that would last her four or five days, and she had water in a canteen that would need refilling. Inside the pack was also a spray bottle with bear repellant that she hoped she would never need to use. It smelled awful.

The solitude reminded her of home. She had often camped out in the woods behind the big house when she was young, reading by candlelight. Nobody missed her. She had no books with her now, and even though her journey had just begun, she desperately wanted a story before sleep. Being careful not to broadcast herself to everyone, she accessed a dormant implant where she had stored Marto's writings and let one play.

Even in its eroded and tamed state, Niagara Falls is a beauty to behold. Among the greatest powers on earth, water and time are unequaled. It came into being after the last ice age, when the Laurentide Ice Sheet generated Lake Agassiz, a glacial lake named after the geologist and biologist who had first proposed the existence of the ancient glaciers that covered the top of the world. The glacial lake dumped water in inconceivable tons over the land, shaping the landscape of the northern regions of the continent. From this torrent, the falls were carved. Limestone, resistant to erosion, preserved the glorious vertical drop of water until it finally succumbed to water and weather, to become the more gradual descent I see before me. These are clips [video montage] taken from when it was a horseshoe shaped wall of water.

– The Wakeful Wanderer's Guide, Vol. 3, line 1028

Sleep came quickly as Marto's voice floated over her consciousness reciting the history of the falls. Before she knew it, morning had arrived, and she packed up in silence and shouldered her pack to continue on, away from society and all its Interconnected noise.

The woods became more pure, free from the detritus of the previous day's footpaths. The weather was warmer, and the sun shone through the greenery. Helen repeatedly spotted rabbit and deer on her walk. They seemed to materialize out of nothing and then scamper away from her as she crunched through the undergrowth. The way became slower. Helen wondered whether she was headed toward Oublix or away from them. Soon it would be time to respond to the message she had received the previous winter. She reviewed it.

We will honor your desire for privacy and anonymity. We leave this message for you: do not wander back into the maw of the beast. Come and join us. We are ubiquitous and we welcome you. Reply when you are ready to abandon the public nattering of the hive mind and want to live free. Simply reply.

– Oublix

This was as good a time as any, she thought. It was barely a day and a half since she had left town, but she should be far enough away to contact Oublix safely. She switched her implants on and sent her reply to the message: ["I want the right to be forgotten."]