It was twenty years earlier, and the golden age of coin-op video games was only just now fading. Leaning with style on a Ms. Pac-Man cabinet, Joe glared at Cody Standing Bear as Cody gestured for another quarter. "You just suck, Ovation. Another quarter's not going to help."
"Do not call me that, Joe."
"You know why I call you that. Get used to it. Hey... you know how to keep a secret, right?"
"I break secrets. I do not keep them. And I think you do not want to keep one. Share."
"Share. Yes, share. With the right people. At the right time."
"So I have little to tell you. But we can ask the Great Spirit."
Joe scowled disgustedly. "Great. Spirit... great."
"Come to the sweat lodge in two weeks. Many will help. But they cannot help without you."
Joe frowned and accepted.
Joe remembers little of what he experienced in the heat of the steam and haze of the rituals in the ramshackle lodge in those days, but he remembers the important part: "The Great Spirit has watched the makers of the secret-keeping thinking machines in your grandson's time, and says you must make sure your secret can only be understood if the hearer has a thing, knows a thing, and is a thing. The thinking machines will make this easy to arrange in many years. Already they can ask for something you know -- a "passing word," I think they call it. It will be longer until they can demand something you have, and longer yet for something you are. For now, it will be difficult to lock your secrets with these spiritual locks. Work with thought, wisdom, and diligence to hide-reveal your secret."
"I'm gonna have a grandson?! Ooh, am I gonna make babies with Mandie? It's Mandie, right?" Joe shouted, and pumped his fist."
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