"It is entirely my choice," Errol assured her. "It's very quiet." And it felt like he was being left alone, for the most part. There were exceptions, like now, and the interactions he had with his few friends and the customers at the bookstore. As a whole, though, Errol liked the solitude; not being pressed in from all sides, not being watched every second of his day, and not being constantly assaulted with messages from ever-present propaganda.
"I'm glad that you're not feeling disconnected any more," he said. "Though I have to imagine that the phone made a very useful paperweight." His mouth twitched. It wasn't quite a joke.
He paused for a long few moments, looking out at nothing. "From what I'm given to understand," he said slowly, putting his thoughts in order before he spoke, "it has a mind, as well as an idea for what it thinks we need. That doesn't sound terribly different than any ruler I'm familiar with, down to letting us have the illusion of self-governance when it deems that expedient." He nodded to himself.