"The strange thing was, I envied it in a way." Nakata's eyes brim, spill over, but her voice doesn't change. "It must be nice to just be able to— to cut yourself off from the parts that give you away."

Clarke smiles, imagining. "Yes." She realizes, suddenly, that only a few centimeters separate her from Alice Nakata. They're almost touching.

How long have I been sitting here? she wonders. She shifts on the pallet, pulls away out of habit.

"Judy didn't see it that way," Nakata's saying. "She felt sorry for the pieces. I think she was almost angry with the main body, do you believe it? She said it was this blind stupid blob, she said— what did she say— 'fucking typical bureaucracy, first sign of trouble it sacrifices the very parts that keep it fed.' That's what she said."

Clarke smiles. "That sounds like Judy."

"She never takes shit from anyone," Nakata says. "She always fights back. I like that about her, I could never do that. When things get bad I just..." She glances at the little black device stuck on the wall beside her pillow. "I dream."

Clarke nods and says nothing. She can't remember Alice Nakata ever being so talkative. "It's so much better than VR, you have much more control. In VR you are stuck with someone else's dreams."

"So I hear."

"You have never tried it?" Nakata asks.

"Lucid dreaming? A couple of times. I never got into it."

"No?"

Clarke shrugs. "My dreams don't have much... detail." Or too much, sometimes. She nods at Nakata's machine. "Those things wake me up just enough to notice how vague everything is. Or sometimes, when there is any detail it's something really stupid. Worms crawling through your skin or something."

"But you can control that. That is the whole point. You can change it."

In your dreams, maybe. "But you have to see it first. Just sort of spoiled the effect for me, I guess. And mostly there were those big, vague gaps."

"Ah." A flicker of a smile. "For myself that is not a problem. The world is pretty vague to me even when I am awake."

"Well." Clarke smiles back, tentatively. "Whatever works."

More silence.

"I just wish I knew," Nakata says finally.

"I know."

"You knew what happened to Karl. It was bad, but you knew."

"Yes."

Nakata glances down. Clarke follows, notices that her own hands have somehow clasped around Nakata's. She supposes it's a gesture of support. It feels okay. She squeezes, gently.

Nakata looks back up. Her dark naked eyes still startle, somehow.

"Lenie, she did not mind me. I pulled away, and I dreamed, and sometimes I just went crazy and she put up with all of it. She understoo— she understands."

"We're rifters, Alice." Clarke hesitates, decides to risk it. "We all understand."

"Except Ken."