Author's Note: Sorry I've been so long in updating, and that this isn't nearly as long as you'd like.

CHAPTER 10: The Legacy of Anita Sandoval

"What was this land called before the ah…Fall?" Vanasha asked the two Old Ones. The final stretch of the trek to Free Heap had been mostly silent, with Ersa and Samina exchanging words in sign language.

It was Margo who responded, "Uh, well the country was called America," Margo paused, as if trying to figure out how to explain something.

I decided to speak up, "I recognize that expression on your face, Margo, because I've worn it plenty of times when trying to think of how to explain GAIA and the Faro Plague to some of the more religious members of the Nora, or the Banuk in the North It's not easy to so casually change the entire world-outlook people have. But this group can take it." I could feel Ikrie squeeze my hand in prideful agreement; I squeezed back with a grin.

Margo looked at me in shock for a moment before recovering herself, "Well, America was a massive country, one of the bigger ones in terms land mass. Though there were some that were fucking gigantic like Russia or Brazil–,

"Margo, think more local. They don't have 21st century context," Samina chided.

Margo's eyes flared wide for a moment before sheepishly replying, "Sorry. I'm kinda bad at explaining things."

"How big was 'America'?" Talanah asked.

Margo and Samina thought for how to explain that in terms that catered to our context before I replied, "You could walk for at least a couple of weeks in that direction, and you'd still be in 'America'," I say pointing east. At the curious glances that I received from Samina and Margo, I responded, "One of my friends is the AI that was GAIA's emotional template, and she monitors the Yellowstone caldera. We talk about random things. Geography is one of my favourite subjects." I shrug.

"Wait, what!?" Margo asked. Oops, did I forget to mention that before?

"How much did you two know about project Firebreak?" I ask a little sheepishly.

"I don't know what that is," Samina replied.

"It sounds familiar…oh! There was this one lady…uh, Annie, nope, Anya, nah that wasn't it…Anastasia–Anita. It was Anita Sandoval, I think, who had worked on that. I remember the name Firebreak because Faro and Lis had this big argument over her inclusion in Zero Dawn. She worked directly under Elisabet, developing GAIA's emotional code and responses." Well, that was interesting. Samina was looking at Margo in confusion. "You know, the lady who had that obsession with Tennyson's poetry? She insisted you include all his works in Apollo."

Samina's eyes lit up in recognition. But then they dimmed with barely withheld tears. The loss of Apollo was never going to be easy for Samina, I realised. It was like part of her soul died with it.

I didn't know what or who Tennyson was, but poetry? I had come across that before in the metal flowers. But also…maybe this Tennyson was responsible same poem that CYAN recited for me.

"CYAN implied she had access to a selection of poetry," I said to Samina. "She recited a part of one of her favourites for me actually.

Her eyes widened considerably. "What?" she breathed. Okay, so obviously I was going to have to get ahold of those poems somehow. A trip to Ban-Ur and CYAN would take near a month round-trip, with two unskilled in combat. Actually, Banuk territory was probably too dangerous for them to be in. HEPHAESTUS' dangerously designed machines were still too numerous and powerful there. Fire and spit, without a large party like this to protect them, they would be a liability when travelling.

"I wouldn't get my hopes up," I tried to caution the historian, "CYAN' repository of knowledge is probably less than a pale shadow of what you put into APOLLO."

"But even if it's just a few poems, that's still a victory," Margo spoke up for Samina, who was overcome with emotion. Interestingly, it was Ersa who put a comforting hand on the Old One's shoulder. Hmm. "It's better than what we feared."

Once we were within a stone's throw of the gates, we knew our presence was noted.

"Flame-Hair!" a boisterous greeting sounded from the upper level of the settlement. Petra, oh All-Mother, this was going to be an interesting meeting.