Atlas peels off his dress shirt, revealing the off-white T-shirt underneath. I catch a glimpse of a design on his upper arm as he wads the dress shirt into a ball. But I can’t make out what it is before he turns and starts walking.

“I still don’t understand,” I say, and trail after Atlas as he weaves around several taller bookshelves. Finally, we enter an area that is filled with a large silver-and-black metal machine. It has massive rollers that appear to be made of rubber. Situated around it are a dozen or so desks. A few desks have computers sitting on top of them, but most have old-fashioned typewriters colored black and gray or dusty blue. Two of the desks are currently occupied—one by an older man and another by a younger woman with a swath of dark hair. Warped bound books are stacked on one side of their desk. Sheets of white pages are balanced on the other side, while metallic clickity-clacks and dull chimes strike the air. “What do you think is going to change if people realize they are missing the information from these books?”

“Maybe fair elections where anyone can run for office instead of those who are approved. Open travel to other countries. A free exchange of ideas where people get to decide what to believe instead of being told to agree.”

“Yeah, but it’s just . . . words.”

“Words have power. They change minds. They inspire and create fear. Words shape ideas—they shape our world—and the words down here will someday be the ammunition we need to change it all back.”

“Back to what?” I ask. “Back to when there was crime on every corner of Chicago and no one cared about the people who lived in the city with them? That’s what happened when people who weren’t qualified were elected into office in your ‘fair elections.’” The words come out in a rush, and I keep going before Atlas can tell me I’m wrong. “Look at how beautiful the city is now. How safe the country is. Almost no one has guns anymore. No one needs them. Is it any wonder that everyone in the world wants to be like us? The ideas we’ve been using are working. People are happy. Why would we want to change any of that?”

“Some people are happy,” says Atlas. “The people who aren’t have a habit of disappearing. And other people just don’t know any better. In other countries, anyone can be an artist. Did you know that? You don’t need to work for the government, or create designs that they have to approve. And despite what you’ve been told, other countries don’t want to be like us. We’ve fallen behind—in art, technology, science, and medicine. Competing ideas can be messy and chaotic, but better ideas—and huge leaps forward—come out of them. The safety and prosperity government leaders tout now is their way of convincing everyone they should be grateful for what they have and scared of anything that is different. Fear of change is a powerful force.”