“Come on, T,” I said, my voice singsong. “We’ll just take a quick look, then we’ll turn it in to Mana-ma. She never needs to know we took a peek. We’ll learn just a little more about the world outside.”

We’d spent hours tossing possibilities back and forth about what the rest of the world was like—even if my sister was far more interested in the rules of the Hearth than I was, always quoting the Good Book to me when I broke a rule. When I plucked my eyebrows: God created us as he wanted us. In his eyes, there are no flaws. To change your body is sacrilege. When I said I wished we could leave behind the Hearth and go to a city with proper skyscrapers, whatever they were: God has laid out his plan for us in the glory of nature. When I complained about going to the meadow with the rest of the Hearth: One must Meditate to remain Pure and open to God’s gifts. Over and over, even though we both knew it was all an act. Behind closed doors, she wanted to know what the world was like, just as much as I did.

Taema sighed.

I pressed the Y on the tablet.

The screen stayed lit, but neither of us knew how to work it. There was nothing taught about this in the commune. We understood a tiny bit more than others about life outside the Hearth: our parents were (still are?) pretty high up in Mana-ma’s inner circle, so they knew plenty and they shared some with us. They weren’t meant to and they were sinning by doing so, but they said they wanted us to be prepared, “just in case.” So we knew that there were things called wallscreens, and flying hovercars that looked like smaller supply ships. That there were buildings made out of smooth stone called concrete. No matter how hard we tried, though, we couldn’t imagine it. Not really. So we weren’t totally ignorant about the big wide world out there—just mostly. And that chafed me.

I rested the tablet against the inside of the tree. I had no idea what to do next. I tapped it again, but nothing happened. I knew that it was a link to the outside world, that I could learn all I wanted to, but I didn’t know how to start.

I tapped it once more, grinding my teeth in frustration.

“Maybe you have to speak to it,” Taema said, her voice so small. “I heard them talking to it before.”

That was right. They’d say “tablet” first. I kept a finger on the screen. “Tablet. Search,” I tried, speaking louder.

A new window opened, showing a blinking box. Enter search parameters flashed above it.