[The kids' intrusion on the Lincoln World has flushed the grownups out of the woodwork. In a rush of events, secrets are revealed and they all learn they are really prat of the von Deign family. A big part, actually, with only five survivors dictated by the evil Dansker, Karl von Deign, who commands unlimited resources and technology that is second only to Ellen's and well beyond anything the "little people" can offer. After accidentlly injuring Ellen through an intervention below the level of detection for anyone else, the von Deigns are waiting for the family at home.]     

We got in the front door with an almost-tearful Ellen. Even Mrs. Foster didn’t look right—nothing obvious, but not right. Ellis just looked worried.

None of us were ready to see Manny in the den. There was an older guy there too. It was obvious they’d been waiting for us. Manny was Manny, but kinda, I don’t know, unsure. Like he was forced to play some other role. Apologetic?

The older guy…it was like he owned the place. They were already standing, like they’d come from the den.

Our den.

“Karl,” Mrs. Foster said wearily. “Why are you here?”

“Sorry, Claudia,” Manny said. “I had no way of getting hold of you.”

“After what you did, you could have tried!” 

That was directed to Manny.

What you did.

“Look at her!” Mrs. Foster snapped. “Ellen, you must go upstairs and lie down.”

“I’m fine, Mom,” she muttered.

“Hey…” I said, looking at this Karl guy. “I’ve seen you before. On…TV?”

He bent over, hands on his knees, like you did with little kids. It looked practiced.

“Ronnie,” he said. And, of course he knew my name. “No. You didn’t see me on TV.” He glanced at Mrs. Foster. Claudia. “She has remarkable perception. And memory. You know, even with the – uh, cognitive – she reminds me of Pops. Straight from Heinrich.”

Manny turned on him.

“You couldn’t just put that insensitive bastard act on hold? Just for a minute?”

“Ronnie,” Manny said, softer now. “Kids, this is your ‘Grandpa Schultz.’ But he’s no relation.”

Not a big shock. I just stared at him.

“You’re the Dansker,” I said. “You were talking to Pa.”

“Yes, most of the family calls me that. The few who need to know, too.”

No one said anything. But that didn’t stop him.

“What you saw years ago was an image,” Dansker said. “You remember it as the only thing that would make sense to a child.”

He smiled. I didn’t.

“I like TV. A lot,” Dansker said. “I’m sure we even like the same programs.”

This was the guy who made Pa go to Berlin instead of staying in Chicago. That seemed worse than anything else he did.

But I wasn’t tearing up.

I glared at him. I had never hated him before. Now I did.

“Look at that,” Manny said. “Look at that, Karl. You earned it. Good luck fixing it.”

The others had just been standing there. Now Mrs. Foster stamped her foot.

“Karl, I demand to know why you are here. In my house. Disturbing the children.”

Dansker paused. For a second, he almost looked sorry. Then it was gone.

“You know why,” he said. “I wish you had seen it sooner.”

“Me? So this is my fault?” she snapped – then she burst into hysterical tears.

Manny stepped in and held her. Comforted her as she cried like a child.

Oh.

That’s exactly what she was, to him.

The twins were horrified. She was so young to me – but she was their mother.

Ellis recovered first. He straightened, stepped forward.

“Who are you, really,” he said, “and what do you want?”

Dansker smiled. Patronizing – but not entirely. He he’d regarded with respect. Ellen – something more than that.

Ellis – nothing. 

Nothing.

“Well. Good questions,” he said. “Who I am is a long story because it’s really who are we. All of us.” He looked at me. 

“But there are some simple things, too. Some instructions. And, if circumstances permit…” He glanced at Ellen, pale and hurting, then at Claudia. “…a question. To see which of you understands what is happening.”

“Karl,” Manny said, “start with the question.”

A look passed between them. I missed it.

Finally, Dansker nodded.

“Very well. A prediction you must assume will come true. It will.” He looked at Ellen. “I can even show you the proof. You will understand it.

“It concerns technology. And it concerns people. What they do Will do.”

Mrs. Foster shook her head. “Not now.”

“It has to be now,” Dansker said. 

Manny nodded. It had to be now.

He folded his hands.

“Thanks mainly to a mistake I made, in good faith…there will be rapid changes in the way people can operate. Very fast, very complete, and too fast and too complete. I am talking about empowering people to communicate instantly, anywhere in the world. To have in their pockets, quite literally, libraries full of knowledge. And people can do anything they want with it. Say what they want. Make anything –writing, art, images, films – and share it instantly. Anywhere. With anyone.”

“Communication satellites?” Ellen said. “You didn’t create that. They’ve been around forever.”

“Forever to a sixteen-year-old,” Dansker said. “But, no, much more fundamental. The materials. Transistors to circuits, copper wire to packets, Speed, size. Materials, scale. You know the difference.”

Ellen just waved it off.

“You don’t see the implications –”

“Shut up,” Ellen muttered.

He shook his head.

“It’s a social thing,” he repeated. “Computers that can we worn. Implanted, even. Always with you. Always on. The whole world in their pockets.”

“Copy my tuner?” she asked. Listening to him now.

Dansker laughed.

“My dear, I can’t copy your tuner,” he said. He looked at Claudia. “Even your mother can’t. She can put little pieces…”

“Karl,” Mrs. Foster wailed. “No!”

“Too late, Clauds. It is done. No, Ellen, they can’t even copy my primitive Lokeditor. Now they have more than they should have, my error. The little people go no further.”

“Don’t call them that,” Manny said.

“But it is not an insult,” Dansker replied calmly. “We are people as well.”

He turned back to us.

“You did that?” Ellen said. “All that disruption, that was you?”

“Us,” Dansker said. He gestured to include Manny and Mrs. Foster. “The family.” 

“Look,” Manny said. “Forget he’s being a jerk. He’s not wrong. He wasn’t exaggerating.”

“I don’t get the problem,” I said. “Everything you said sounded great.”

“Doesn’t it, though?” Dansker said. “Imagine being able to talk to someone any time. Look up anything, say what you want about it. No barriers.”

“Yeah, sounds nice.”

Ellen shook her head. Winced again. “What you did…”

“It is not nice,” Ellis said. “It would not be good at all.”

We all turned. Ellis?

Manny looked pleased. Dansker – interested.

“Why? Why will it be bad, Ellis?” he asked.

Ellis didn’t hesitate.

“People won’t need people,” he said. “Not the same way. Maybe not at all.”

Dansker’s smile widened.

“Oh, it will be worse than that,” he said softly. “So much worse, and the genie will never be bottled. People will become tribal again. They will gather not around truth, but around likeness. Personal taste. Then, their thought. Whoever sounds like them and, very shortly, whoever can say what they think their tribe must have.”

“Oh, come on,” I said. “That’s just ridiculous. Pessimistic.”

“Sorry,” Manny said. “He’s not wrong. We’ve…seen it, you could say. And it won’t just be the fools. It will be everyone.”

Dansker nodded, satisfied.

“One follow-up,” he said. “For all of you.”

He focused on Ellis.

“Assume – well, like I said. All this is because of a decision I made. If I can undo it, should I?”

“Yes,” Ellis said immediately. “Anyone who causes harm must fix it.”

Dansker held his gaze a moment longer than necessary.

“Must one?” he asked quietly.

Ellis didn’t waver.

“Yes.”

“What difference does it make?” Ellen mumbled. “He already did it. Disrupted packets. Sabotaged carrier waves. He took it.”

Dansker nodded.

“It may not be forever,” Dansker said. “They’ll be ready, a generation, maybe two.”

“He’s quite the benign shepherd,” Manny said. But it was obvious he agreed.

“Are you kidding?” Ellen whispered. “It’s forever now. Why?”

“Lunch is ready,” Mrs. Foster called from the kitchen.

Hadn’t even noticed she left. 

Seemed like there was a lot to know before just settling into a lunch is ready routine. Like, even your mother can’t – can’t copy the tuner? Not in that big ol’ kitchen of hers?

We stood up.

“Before we eat,” Ellis said, stopping. “You mentioned instructions.”

Dansker’s expression tightened. No longer trying to be a nice guy.

“Leave that Lincoln world alone,” he said. “I mean it. It’s not a toy.”

“He’s definitely right about that,” Manny added. “You will make it worse.”

Ellis frowned for a moment. He froze. Didn’t say a word.

“If you step in again, you will make it worse,” Manny said. “Even if you think you’re fixing it.”

“I didn’t know anything was broken,” Ellis said. 

Funny, that was one thing I had no trouble believing. But why focus on Ellis? He couldn’t even work the tuner.

“Don’t do it, boy,” Dansker said.

Wrong tone. Mama Bear rushed in, her fist raised.

She lowered it only when Manny turned to her and gently raised his hand.

“Karl,” Mrs. Foster said, shaking a bit, “do not play your games with them.”

Manny turned away from her to face Dansker. 

“Don’t assume I will always intervene.”

“I recall once when you didn’t,” Dansker said. “And here we are.” But he lowered his head. 

“Excuse me,” he said.

Spoke in a mild voice, like he just spoke out of turn a little.

I walked into the dining room, following Mrs. Foster.

What the hell?