"I don't remember. —sixteen to twenty-five, thirty year olds are just like that. I'm the version that isn't normal." 

"...I'm 27."

"...your world is different, though, in my world Rusty civilization was wiped out about where you are and it really doesn't sound like you're headed for that kind of disaster. And we don't have — what did you call it? The chemical that fucks with fertility." 

"We might have gotten wiped out if not for bitoxiphosphene lowering world populations so much. But that's not the point, the point is-- in my world when my husband Asher was 16 he had a kid and when he was 18 he joined the military and spent four years handling classified material and learning to forage all his own food and when he was 22 he went to college to learn economics. When I was 16 I was teaching myself calculus and when I was 17 I had published three books and when I was 23 I was one of the most powerful people in the government. And-- Asher and I are unusual but we're not that unusual? We're not mutant child prodigies? And this isn't a 'Cascadia has resource constraints' thing, I don't think the other you could concentrate long enough to be safe around classified material or to solve a calculus problem or to write a book, he'd get bored halfway through and look for someone to suck off."

"He's not actually that sex obsessed, but we can't go to parties because we will inevitably get a migraine and possibly also a seizure and we can't play sports at all because of the balance thing and there's no other way to get contact, and he doesn't mind that the person he's fucking won't remember his name tomorrow and I do — I recognize that this is avoiding the actual topic, I promise I'm thinking about it." 

"...what? Uh, is there something weird you mean by the word 'contact'?"

"Substantial interaction with another human being?" 

"Um. Are you exaggerating for effect or are actually your only opportunities to talk to other people parties and sports and sex--?"

"I could in theory go to concerts or something, except, again, migraines. Or I could do the thing Littlies do where they walk up to someone and say 'hi, do you want to be friends.'" 

"Do you want to move to Cascadia?"

"...in theory I should ask more questions about what Cascadia is even like but it honestly can't be that much worse than sleeping 16 hours a day because I'd rather not experience the other 8." 

"I love Cascadia but it's definitely not for everyone-- you should ask more questions-- you're old enough and male enough to dodge the ambient social pressure to procreate, Lily was worried about that-- but you can go to a book club or a knitting club or a poetry reading or go on a hike with Asher or, or get a Tumblr--"

"First question, what's a hike." 

"You go out into nature and walk around and look at, uh, trees and flowers and stuff? The stars at night And talk about things with the person you're hiking with? Asher and I always end up arguing about economics but I think that's just me and Asher, not hiking in general. I don't know, I got enough nature by the time I was twelve, I really don't want to appreciate any more of it. --Lily really likes them."

"...stars aren't much to look at in my experience but I might as well try, I guess, on a good balance day. What is your tech level like, roughly?" 

"Have you ever been, I dunno, a hundred miles from a city?"

"I don't know how much a mile is but I've never been outside a city." 

"Please come to Cascadia, it might be two or three years before I get a door again but I promise you it will be so worth it, you will get to see real stars. --The light from the cities makes it so you can't see the stars."

"Yeah. Cascadia sounds worth it. — assuming I have, like, a place to stay and some way to acquire food, I won't have a job there and I don't know how feasible it would be to get one." 

"If I like you as much as I like Lily, then you can just live with me forever and not have to think about money, because I have way, way too much money. If I don't, you get a very small apartment and food stamps and health care just by living in Cascadia and you'd definitely qualify for disability so you could have some pocket money. If you wanted to work with scientists from the Cascadian government and let them study you, you could make the Cascadian median income just by doing that, or more if you're particularly useful. And there are-- other jobs-- but if you're on disability you'll have a vocational counselor, they'll help you figure out what kinds of jobs you can do around your disability, freelance writing or translating or programming or something--"

He nods. "I'm still kind of running on 'anything is better' but seriously, most things would be better." 

"I have a theory. About your world."

"What is it?" 

"I think they do something to your brains in the pretty operation that makes you-- happy and stupid? And they fucked it up when they did it to you and gave you brain damage."

That sounds... kind of depressingly plausible. 

"I don't know. It doesn't sound wrong, but — I don't know."