“It’s nothing,” he said. “We get emotionally overwrought about friends and family. I have as much to apologize for as… Well, I owe you an apology.” They stared at the park across the street, at the damaged wading pool where Edward had vanished.
“So, sorries all ’round and kisses and hugs, and now we’re all friends again, huh?” Link said. Natalie made a rude noise and ruffled his hair, then wiped her hand off on his shirt.
Alan, though, solemnly shook each of their hands in turn, and thanked them. When he was done, he felt as though a weight had been lifted from him. Next door, Mimi’s window slammed shut.
“What is it you’re doing around here, Akin?” Link said. “I keep seeing you running around with ladders and tool belts. I thought you were a writer. Are you soundproofing the whole Market?”
“I never told you?” Alan said. He’d been explaining wireless networking to anyone who could sit still and had been beginning to believe that he’d run it down for every denizen of Kensington, but he’d forgotten to clue in his own neighbors!
“Right,” he said. “Are you seated comfortably? Then I shall begin. When we connect computers together, we call it a network. There’s a big network of millions of computers, called the Internet.”
“Even I know this,” Natalie said.
“Shush,” Alan said. “I’ll start at the beginning, where I started a year ago, and work my way forward. It’s weird, it’s big and it’s cool.” And he told them the story, the things he’d learned from Kurt, the arguments he’d honed on the shopkeepers, the things Lyman had told him.
“So that’s the holy mission,” he said at last. “You give everyone a voice and a chance to speak on a level playing field with the rich and powerful, and you make democracy, which is good.”
He looked at Link and Natalie, who were looking to one another rather intensely, communicating in some silent idiom of sibling body-language.