Luckily, it didn’t take me long to reach the location to which TW directed me. It was about three miles outside of Rumsfeld, closer to the country than to the city. According to TW, the person who could help me lived in a small bungalow far off the main highway, because she liked to live alone and didn’t care much for visitors. He said that Gregory had been one of her only friends and that she might be willing to help me because I was his grandson, if she was still alive.
It was somewhat risky for me to leave Rumsfeld on what might have seemed to anyone else like a flimsy memory of an AI, but it was the only option I had that would allow me to preserve my secret identity. As a result, I was willing to fly wherever I needed to go in order to get myself healed.
About ten minutes of flying
