“No, formulating questions. No one tests for answers anymore. No one is expected to retain much knowledge.”

She looked surprised. “I thought that’s what education was for.”

“Not anymore. Facts are available on command. The Grid can stream you to any answers you want. The key to education is in formulating the right questions. Asking questions that will bring you useful answers—that’s what we’re trying to teach our students.”

We stopped at the Dallas Arboretum. Walking among the flowers, I found the heat oppressive, but it didn’t seem to bother Abby. I found her even more radiant outdoors, like another light had clicked on inside her. I used a wet cloth, provided by the staff, to wipe sweat off my forehead.

We had, I realized, been talking about me quite a bit. It had been a while since anyone had shown interest in me, and it was unexpectedly flattering. I wanted to hear more about Abby, however. I asked about her life: her family, living in the jungle, her tribe. Everything about her seemed so exotic, so archaic, so innocent, so determined. I couldn’t believe I was walking and talking with such a person.

We went to see more sights. The pickings were slim, I had to admit. We drove downtown to the Kennedy assassination museum, a somewhat gruesome staple of the Dallas historical tour. Getting out of the car, Abby noticed a small building across a one-block city park. A wooden cross adorned its top. “What’s that?”

“That’s a prayer chapel.”

Her face lit up. “Really? Do people use it?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Oh. So why is it there?”

“A long time ago someone donated that building to the city. They stipulated that it had to remain a prayer chapel. So there it sits. It’s pretty, actually.”

She stared at it a moment. “Yes, it is.”

After the Kennedy museum, we drove past a large park extending along the Trinity River. It overflowed with at least a thousand people who, admittedly, looked dead, lying on the grass.

“Who are all those people?” Abby asked.

“Homeless VR addicts.”

“Homeless…what?”

“VR addicts. Most of them are homeless, at any rate. They’re people who’ve become trapped into living their entire lives in VR. Typically, they’ve lost everything—home, job, family. They were such a problem all over the city that this park was declared a safe haven for them—for anyone just wanting to be in VR.”

Abby’s brow furrowed. “That’s awful to waste your life like that.”

I nodded. “Technology. Some people just aren’t able to handle it.”

We passed the Energy Museum and looped through north Dallas, where we came upon an expansive structure.

“What’s that building?”

“It used to be one of the largest churches in the country. A Baptist one.” Not that people knew what a Baptist was anymore. “Thirty thousand went to church here at one point.”