Kevin and I could have spent a few more days discussing this major upheaval in our lives, but we didn't. I knew this decision was right for me and for the circumstances we would find ourselves in, and we agreed we were making the right decision for us. Our decision wasn't based on any particular knowledge, nothing more than feeling as if I was settling into, well, call it my destiny. Having made the decision, neither of us wanted to spend the entire week down here, but there were still some prerequisites we had to take care of. Medical tests for one, and we tried to schedule those with as much overlap as possible. I also was able to schedule a few meetings of my own.

 I met with Mika Philips, the current Head of the Liaisons in NAHE. I would be working with her closely, especially in the beginning, and I needed to learn how the liaison organization was structured. I found it was organized in a classic hierarchy around the storefronts, which were the offices open on every residential floor. Each section had its own staff, which helped those in the storefronts find solutions for the issues brought to them. They also had a habitat-wide office in Section 3, where they handled any complaints that needed guiding through Habitat Administration or issues requiring the attention of the Foundation Board. Mika was knowledgeable and efficient as she guided me through the basics. But she knew nothing about the other habitats and had never interacted with the other Liaison Heads. It seemed each group had been operating independently.

I also met with Effie Tabir. I liked Effie; she was no-nonsense and had a dry sense of humor. She explained that while I would eventually work with the Foundation Board, my initial focus needed to be on the Liaisons themselves. She also explained more about the 'Face of the Foundation' title. The Foundation Board had decided they wanted to create an event to announce the presence of both the Foundation and the Habitats to the world when a nuclear attack was imminent. NAHE had been asked to stage the event since the habitat was closest to the federal government with the most world-wide impact and media arm. My physical presence in this habitat was a bonus, she assured me. She told me she would have the beginnings of a team assembled by the time we were officially living here. I couldn't puzzle out much from her vague words, so I set it aside until later. I had enough to worry about.

Kevin and I didn't explore much. We brought pre-made takeout from the Eatery, which had ingredient labels and ate at the guest house. When we weren't rushing to appointments, we discussed our immediate future and made plans to disassemble our lives. Soon, we found ourselves riding in what might have been the same enclosed van back to Shively and our car. We headed home, ready to do what we needed to get back down as soon as possible.

It took us just over three months. Kevin applied for early retirement, and I gave my two-week notice. We started emptying our house and getting it ready to sell. While I worked on all the mundane tasks of leaving our life on the surface of the Earth, I thought about and planned for our future below.

I had never before been confronted with such an obviously consequential decision, and yet we had made it easily. But now, any of my decisions would affect not only me and possibly Kevin but over a million other people scattered all over the planet. It wasn't hyperbole to say that however I ran the Liaisons, my choices would profoundly affect everyone who lived under the surface in these societies.

But how does one plan for the unknown? Nothing in the materials I read or my meeting with Mika indicated any plans for the future. How do I act as a leader when I have no idea of where I'm supposed to lead them? I had the mandate but no idea how to effectuate it besides what the Liaisons were already doing. And I had no idea how to transfer anything I was currently aware of into "act as a conduit between the people of the habitats."

I realized I couldn't start as a leader. I didn't have the knowledge necessary for the role. What I could do was listen. I needed to hear what those in the organization thought about what they were doing and any ideas they had for the future. Using my intuition and empathy, I could sift those ideas through my ethical and moral compass as they aligned with the Charter and guide the organization along those lines. But I couldn't fall into the trap it seemed most of the habitat heads in the organization were in, thinking only of the liaisons in my home habitat. I had to not only consider the Liaisons as a cohesive and equal group in all habitats, I had to keep all the residents in my mind and heart.

With that decision made, others came to the fore. I needed to listen to diverse voices, which meant hearing what the groups in the other habitats had to say. I had no idea if every habitat was as self-contained as NAHE or if different cultures affected their interactions. What kind of meetings would this require? For the most part, I would have to meet through video, but I hoped I could meet physically with the liaisons in what would be my home base.

I considered setting up meetings with each Liaison head and meeting with them as I had with Mika, but the more I thought about it, speaking first with the individual leaders didn't feel quite right. Hearing something the first time always sets an expectation and creates a slight bias brought into every other conversation. Would I rather hear first from those who were in charge or those who were closer to the residents? Whatever I did, I would need to do it across the habitats. Still, I was aware I would have to avoid the appearance of picking a favorite or doing something without a particular habitat leader's knowledge. I had no idea how far the spirit of cooperation went in this new environment, so I needed to approach this as diplomatically as possible.

I realized that the best way forward was to ask for a listening meeting in NAHE first, with Mika's help arranging it, of course. It would at least give me more information before I spoke to all the Liaison heads. I didn't know where they were located but assumed the worst regarding time zones. After I moved down, it would be on me to accommodate the other habitat's schedules. I wondered how many weeks I'd be suffering from jet lag.

Mika agreed to the meeting, and I asked her to schedule and invite all the Habitat Liaison Leaders to a video meeting a few days later. This one I purposefully scheduled in my time zone. Diplomatically, it was the right thing to do, giving no other habitat extra prominence. I'd have to ensure everyone knew NAHE would receive no preferential treatment from me. I hoped these meetings would be enough to help me know where to guide our next steps. Choices don't have to be all-encompassing; sometimes, just knowing where the boundaries are is enough to realize in which direction the next step lies.

At other times, the questions surrounding a choice require tactical rather than strategic concepts. This came up around another decision I made while we continued wrapping up our lives on the surface. I needed to figure out how to protect Kevin and myself from being legally required to be honest when asked questions and yet legally obligated to conceal what was necessary to stay hidden. I had to find a workaround when asked a direct question about something I wasn't supposed to talk about without actually lying. It took me a while before the answer arose from my subconscious: obfuscation. (1) If I always answered a question from one of several subject areas with the same true words and in the same manner, it might be impossible for anyone to determine what, if anything, I wasn't talking about. I needed a way to indicate my unwillingness to answer whenever anyone asked those questions. I considered what phrase I could use and execute consistently in every situation. It had to suggest I was taking responsibility and control, so the phrase had to start with "I." What could I say?

"I don't know" was out immediately. I was oathbound to tell the truth, and there would be cases when this would be a lie.

"I cannot tell" was closer in concept, but it could imply something existed, and I was being prevented from acknowledging it. I would not hide behind an implication that would not be true.

"I won't tell" was closer but could still be subject to some of the same interpretations as the cannot phrase.

'I will not tell you that.' Regardless of my reason, be it knowledge or lack thereof, I choose not to answer the person asking the question. This became my chosen phrase. And those words would always be truthful, no matter the question.

I started working and practicing the phrasing. I had to be consistent no matter the question or provocation. I worked on smoothing my features and saying the phrase in the same tone of voice and cadence, as blandly and unemotionally as possible. I wanted there to be no indication, physical or otherwise, that might be used to indicate why I was using the phrase, so I created a small energy shield to snap in place whenever I spoke it. It would act as an impenetrable shield, holding in all aspects of my energy and emotions. Anyone who was even the slightest bit sensitive to the emotions of others would feel the same emanating from me as anyone else did. Nothing.

I had to decide in what areas I would use my newfound phrase. Obviously, I would use it when I needed to keep something secret and also when I didn't know the answer. But a binary choice can be easily puzzled out, so I also chose to answer in the same way any questions whose answer would be evident to the average person and anything commonly held to be stupid or frivolous. But I knew even that wouldn't be enough. I would have to make a sacrifice and place almost all questions about my personal life in the same blocked-off area, refusing to answer in virtually every circumstance and in the same way.

I didn't want to do this, but it was apparent I needed to. I had the right as a Charter citizen to privacy; no other person in this or any habitat had the right to know about my personal life other than what I chose to share. But if I decided to share in the same manner most people did in their lives, I wouldn't be able to use my reticence as a shield around that which I would be oathbound to protect.

I would have to consciously compartmentalize myself in a way directly contradicting how I wanted to live when we moved into the habitat. Most people would have to know me as Alexandra, with little to no knowledge of who I was other than the innocuous pieces I could acknowledge. Whatever more I wished to share, I didn't dare. If there would ever be a relationship between myself and someone in this category, it would be as shallow acquaintances rather than close friends.

Even among those I could consider friends, I would have to choose with whom I could share the parts of myself that commonly allowed for strong bonds of friendship. However, to protect those secrets, I would need to shield them from knowing Alexandra as a whole and complete personality. There would have to be multiple versions of me. Who was I? What roles would I have to play?

To most, Alexandra would be private and quiet except when speaking officially. Neighbors and others we interacted with generally where we lived and worked would know a generic version of Alex, never speaking about my work and talking only about hobbies and interests or small talk relevant to the community. And if I found people I could trust? I would have to be still another version of Alex, not indicating anything Alexandra did during working hours, but able to have those deep conversations and sharing of intimacies that mark authentic and healthy relationships. I would have to trust those I shared with would be sincere in their discretion.

Finally, there would be my core identity, Ally, someone who could share anything with those who knew me as such, all of who I was. The only person at the time who knew me in that manner was Kevin.

I realized no matter what, I would be forced into an uncomfortable yet familiar role: being on the outside looking in. I'd have to be quieter than I wanted, unable to share the usual confidences regularly invited when beginning friendships. I would have to use my empathy to find those with whom I could learn to trust and gradually, hopefully, find friends to enrich our lives down there and create the connections we would need to live in a healthy manner. It wasn't what I had hoped for, but it would have to be enough.

I persuaded Kevin to use the phrase, and while he was never as good at masking his irritation with the question as I was, he became consistent. So, while we waited, we practiced and packed up, emptying the house. The items marked to go down with us stayed extremely small. We were getting rid of almost everything. I was bringing some barware at Effie's recommendation, as well as our bed climate control systems, clothes, jewelry, altar tools and some items with sentimental value.

We let friends and family know I had taken a job across the continent, and we would be driving to visit them on our way across the country. I sorted through our belongings and made arrangements to dispose of our furniture and other household goods while shipping boxes of items we were taking to a designated address as we finally put the house up for sale.

And so we did. We sold our house and then visited friends and family from the East Coast to the Midwest, traveling north, south, and then west. In the spring of 2017, we finally turned our car around and headed east, back to Shively, ready for this new adventure.