Ify’s hand hovers over one of the drives. Small enough to fit into the palm of her hand. Large enough to contain most of the memories of an entire cyberized human being. Ify remembers once hearing in a lecture hall that all words ever spoken by human beings could be contained in forty-two zettabytes of data if recorded as ancient sixteen-kilohertz sixteen-bit audio. Of course, increasing the quality of that audio to today’s standards would entail an order of magnitude in the thousands, but, looking at the drives before her, Ify marvels. Hundreds of zettabytes of storage in each one. And thousands of them lining the walls of this cave.

Xifeng’s question rings in Ify’s ears, the loudest echo she has ever heard. Will you join me?

Ify touches one of the drives, runs a finger along a ridged edge, then slowly pulls away. She turns to Xifeng and sees the look of expectant joy on her face, the look of someone already having made her plans. A pang of guilt stabs Ify’s heart, but she smothers the hurt. This is bigger than them.

“No.”

Disappointment pulls down Xifeng’s features like Ify’s words have deflated her. Then, for the briefest of moments, it curls her lips into a snarl before she schools her face into an aspect of calm and acceptance. “Why not?”

“You’re forcing trauma on these people.” Ify feels serenity radiate through her. She is right, and she knows it. Amid all the uncertainty and chaos surrounding her, all the things that have happened and been said to her to throw her mind into tumult, there is this certainty. She clings to it.

“I am showing them the truth. These piecemeal revelations are part of the solution, but they are not enough. You don’t understand, Ify. I have the tools to reverse the virus the government has injected into the minds of its citizens. This virus of forgetting.”

“What are you talking about?”

“A central data processing center. Everyone in Nigeria is connected. Everyone we will help is connected. Once I inject the right code into that center, it will flood the net with every forbidden memory. Everyone will remember. Only then will the country move forward.”

“The country.” That familiar contempt returns to Ify. She keeps her anger at bay. But she allows herself to feel pity. “The country that you know so well. You’ve lived here for less than a decade, and you know what is good for this country? You were not born here. You were not made here. You never knew this place before war. How could you possibly understand it after war?” She draws closer to Xifeng. “What you’re doing is wrong.” With a wide sweep of her arm, she indicates the walls of hard drives. “This will only bring war back.”