Honey had just begun speaking in a heavy Southern accent. But the people were shaking their heads, as if this business with the tree was the most tragic thing they’d ever heard.
“And then, when I was fourteen,” Honey said, “I went out to Constellation. Y’all remember what happened there, don’t you?”
Marlow froze. Around her, the people were murmuring sympathetically. One woman pressed all ten fingers to her lips and blew a pained kiss Honey’s way.
“I was saved,” Honey said, her eyes glittering. “Saved from the life I thought I wanted. Everywhere I looked, I saw those old ads, you remember ’em? ‘Share American Stories Again.’ And I was a young girl with a nice set of tits coming in, and I thought—well, I thought what so many girls think when they decide more people should be looking at them. I thought, ‘Why not me? Why shouldn’t I be famous?’” Honey laughed. She stroked the scar on her face. “But that night, on that beach, with all of you watching, I sure got my comeuppance. And I realized the government was wrong. I realized that sharing isn’t the way. I realized what my true calling is: to bring privacy back to America. And that’s why you’re here tonight, right?”
Whoops from the crowd. Bodies shimmying slightly, thrilled to hear Honey ramping up.
“You’ve been lied to all your life,” Honey said softly. “You were lied to when you were told the only way another Spill could be prevented was if the government ran the web, and if all of you kept sharing on it. You were lied to when you were told that, because your smartphone was cooking your brains, you’d be better off with a device—something that would speak right into your brain. That could look, too. That would talk like it’s you! ‘I should take five steps east—I need to replenish my skin’s moisture levels.’ Those aren’t your thoughts.” Honey let her mouth fall open, as if she had just thought of this, shocking herself. She continued: “And what does your life look like now? Well.” She thrust one hip out. “For one thing, we know from the color of your public profile just how much money you have. That part doesn’t bother me, exactly. Mine’s a nice shade of platinum.”
Thunderous laughter. Honey waited it out, licking her lips. “But I’ve got my gripes, too. My device was always telling my doctor, ‘Wah, Honey had gnocchi again! With extra Parmesan!’ My device was always telling my boyfriends, ‘You know, Honey faked that orgasm.’ Look, I’m a busy lady.” Honey threw her hands up, faux-exasperated. “If I wanna fake it and get on with my day, that’s my business!”
Sheepish looks from the men. Shrieks so loud from the women, Marlow almost covered her ears.
“That’s why I quit my device,” Honey declared. “Quit sharing years ago.”
Marlow looked across the room, at the kitchen drawer where she had seen David tuck Honey’s device, sliding it beneath folded white dish towels. She took a sip of her drink, finishing it, and caught another as a waiter sailed by.
“That’s why I went private,” Honey said. She raised a fist and pumped it with each word that came next. “You. Can. Too.”
Applause—applause like they had been holding it in the whole night, their whole lives.
“Living only the part of your life you would if your grandma was watching,” Honey said. “Does that sound like the land of the free? The home of the brave?”
“No!”
“Would you like to see what freedom’s really like?”
“Yes.”
“Are you ready to experience privacy?”
“Yes!”
“Okay, then,” Honey said. She tapped her lip with a finger, as if she was trying to think of something. “Let’s see. You’ve removed your devices. We’ve disabled every bit of technology in this apartment, down to the security sensors.” She held one hand up to her mouth, stage-muttering a secret. “I’d like to rip the goddamn things out of the walls,” she said. “But alas, I’m just a renter. Sometimes I’m tempted to pour tequila on the sensors—you know that’s how you break them, right? Or so I’m told. The tequila I keep around is too damn good to waste on such things.” She clapped her hands together. “What am I forgetting?”
Marlow jumped a little as they all said it together, without hesitation: “The drapes!”
Honey nodded. She raised a finger in the air. “The drapes!”
Ivory velvet began to descend over every pane of glass. Marlow stepped forward as one of the curtains swished, ghostlike, against her on its way to