That meant she knew everything. She’d read the memoirs, listened to Benji’s broadcasts, of course, and she knew the story and mythology of our entire tribe.

“Ah, my rock music adventures,” I said. “You’re too kind, but thank you.”

“I’m very glad you’ve agreed to receive us,” she said. “I’m eager to tell you all about us—why we were sent here, and when and what happened.”

This struck me as a remarkable statement.

“I’m impressed,” I said frankly. “Very impressed. This is a great opportunity.”

“Yes,” she replied. “An opportunity.”

“And you’ve been well treated, had a meal and time to rest?” I asked. This was a verbal gesture because I knew the answer, but they eagerly replied with nods and murmurs that it was a reception beyond their expectations, with Kapetria again speaking to me on behalf of the group.

“We found the entire village charming,” she said with an easy and radiant smile. “We hadn’t expected to be able to use our computers and cell phones here. We hadn’t expected such interesting shops, and all this so far off the beaten path.”

“Yes, it’s a small self-contained world, the village,” I replied. “Requires a certain retiring type to enjoy this kind of exile.”

“But the rewards are considerable,” she said, “or so your devoted staff has told me.”

“I find myself marveling,” I said, “that they ask so few questions about the people who live in this castle.”

“Maybe they know more than they ever admit,” she suggested, “and they aren’t curious so much as cautious.”

“Ah, could be,” I replied. “Come, we’ll go up to the Council Chamber in the north tower. The walls are lined with soundproof insulation. It cannot keep out all the telepathic eavesdroppers but it works surprisingly well against most.”

And did these creatures have telepathic powers of their own?

I sensed that they did not.

“We will record all of this,” said Fareed. “I want to remind you of cameras and speakers in the walls.”

“We’ll be recording it as well,” said Kapetria. She held up a tiny black digital recording device with a small screen which would likely outlast the battery of any cell phone if the meeting went on into the night, which, frankly, I was hoping it would.

I smiled. Our coming out into the modern world had begun over forty years ago with a human radio interviewer in a rented room in San Francisco inviting Louis to tell his story to a tape recorder. And now here we were, all of us, storing every word and gesture of this historic meeting on the modern offspring of that old recorder.