“Tell me. Where is she? Where is I-330 ? There? Beyond the Wall or⁠ ⁠… ? I must.⁠ ⁠… Do you hear me? At once.⁠ ⁠… I cannot.⁠ ⁠…”

“Here!” he shouted in a happy, drunken voice, showing strong yellow teeth, “here in town, and she is acting! Oh, we are doing great work!”

Who are those “we”? Who am I?

There were about fifty around him. Like him, they seemed to have crawled out from under their foreheads. They were loud, cheerful, strong-toothed, swallowing the stormy wind. With their simple, not at all terrible-looking electrocutors (where did they get them?) they started to the west, towards the operated ones, encircling them, keeping parallel to forty-eighth avenue.⁠ ⁠…