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\hypertarget{tycho-braheartemis-2346}{%
\chapter{Tycho Brahe\#Artemis — 2346}}
\markboth{Tycho Brahe\#Artemis — 2346}{}
\begin{center}
\emph{Convergence T-minus 3 days, 4 hours, 12 minutes}
\end{center}
\noindent Tycho found himself focusing most on True Name after the long spate of introductions.
A small part of him wondered at this. All four races of Artemisians sitting around the table with them were fascinating in their own way. Part of him wanted to get lost in exploring the intricacies of Turun Ka and Turun Ko. Another desperately wanted to learn as much as he could from Stolon despite the stated goal of focusing on social interactions and history for this instance of the meeting.
And yet it was all so overwhelming. So much was happening all at once. So many things demanded his attention that the part of himself tasked with observing all but shut down, and instead he focused on True Name.
Why Ask Questions—or perhaps Answers Will Not Help—had calmed down, at least to the point where she was able to sit still and look down at the table. Her introduction had been stammered and, after that, she had remained quiet and withdrawn. It seemed as though she was spending every joule of energy she had on remaining still, remaining herself. Even then, a wave of skunk would occasionally wash over her form and she would clench her eyes shut
Codrin bore eir usual curious, attentive expression. Something about em seemed to suggest that, when working, ey became a camera of sorts, taking in all light, all sound, all sensation and storing it away for future reference. Even when the façade of work dropped, ey seemed built to witness.
Sarah, too, wore a look of calm curiosity. He figured she would be, in her own way, working the hardest of the group. She was the one tasked with watching the ways in which the Artemisians acted, trying to deduce some clear picture of them as individuals and as a society.
Tycho wished for that same sense of calm, of stability.
And so, with the other emissaries well known and the Artemisians perhaps too interesting to look at, he focused on True Name.
The skunk appeared to have an internal struggle of her own, not dissimilar from Why Ask Questions's/Answers Will Not Help's, but, as far as he could tell, she was better able to hold it at a distance, wrap it all up and set it down, observe rather than fight. Only twice that he had seen since they had gathered around the table had there been a wave of that human form of Michelle Hadje spreading across her features, but that was quickly mastered.
\emph{How much must be going on beneath the surface?} he wondered. \emph{She seems like she's a hundred percent here, and yet there's still something deeper going on.}
She caught him looking and gave him a wan smile, before addressing the table. ``I think that it would be beneficial if we were to know the specialties that everyone holds, as that might help us better understand the ways in which we speak.''
``By specialties,'' Artante said. ``You mean our primary areas of interest?''
True Name nodded. ``Yes.''
There was a brief blur around the Artemisians as, Tycho guessed, they shifted to fast time to discuss this.
When they dropped back down to common time, Turun Ka tilted its snout up. ``We are amenable to this. By role, then, I act as leader for this delegation as well as a member of the Council of Eight, which serves in a leadership role for the collected societies here on what you call Artemis. My specialization is on interspecies communication.''
The skunk's ears flitted briefly as it spoke. ``Thank you, leader Turun Ka. For my part, I act as leader for this delegation. There is no central leadership for our System, but I am a member of a group of individuals and clades keenly interested in the stability and continuity of our society.'' She smiled, strain showing around her eyes. ``This was not always the case, as the System was originally guided by a group of individuals also known as the Council of Eight. This was disbanded two hundred years ago once the society reached equilibrium, but I was a member from start to end.''
The firstracer rocked its head from side to side in a gesture that Tycho supposed must be amusement of a sort. ``We share a commonality.''
True Name nodded.
``I serve as recorder here,'' Codrin said when no one else spoke up. ``I am a historian and writer, and have often found myself taking part in large-scale events as an amanuensis so that I might witness and then write a coherent story after.''
``We are similar-alike, recorder Codrin Bălan,'' Turun Ko said. ``I serve and have served as observer-recorder since creation and launch of our vehicle-system. I specialize in creating stories-accounts-retellings of events so that others may listen-learn-understand. I am pleased to meet you.''
Codrin nodded to it, smiling. ``As am I.''
``I am named Stolon of thirdrace, of--'' The lizard made a sort of hissing, chittering noise. Their name for their own race, perhaps? ``I am specializing in astronomy and spaceflight. I dream of stars.''
Tycho sat up straight. Another astronomer! He couldn't have asked for better luck. ``Really? I'm an astronomer, too,'' he said, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice. ``That's the whole reason I came along on these launches in the first place. I wanted to see the stars. Where do you come from? How did you wind up out here?''
True Name frowned. ``One set of questions at a time, Dr.~Brahe. There will be a time for asking such as these.''
He sat back, chastened, but a glance at Stolon shared a similar sort of jittery excitement. They kept tapping and drumming their claws on the tabletop, forcing themself to stop, and then doing so again. He made a mental note to steal some time with the thirdracer.
They continued around the table.
``I am Iska of secondrace. I specialize in time skew artistry. I tell stories through the ways in which we move through time. I serve as representative for my race, but also as an artist who may come away with a story.''
Codrin laughed. ``How delightful.''
Iska cocked their head in a familiar gesture of confusion.
``One of my partners—romantic partners, that is—is an instance artist. It performs art through the creative use of forking. It'll be pleased to hear that there is something analogous here.''
The secondracer bowed, their short ears canted back. ``We will have to share knowledge on this during our talks.''
Sarah spoke up next. ``I am a psychologist and therapist. I study the way people think and help them by listening. I have a particular interest in being here to see the ways in which we are similar or different in how we learn, solve problems, approach the world, and so on.''
Artante smiled. ``I serve a similar role, representative Sarah Genet. I listen and I talk and I help. That is my role here, as well. Iska will bring back the story, and I will aid in understanding.''
The two smiled at each other, both looking pleased. Tycho imagined they were feeling some of the same excitement that he was on learning that Stolon was a fellow astronomer.
All eyes turned towards Why Ask Questions/Answers Will Not Help, who gave a weak shrug. ``You must forgive my state at the moment. I cannot speak without great effort. My focus is on politics.''
``The offer to hold further talks in a unison room remains available,'' Iska said.
Why Ask Questions shook her head, though whether at the suggestion or out of the inability to speak, Tycho couldn't tell.
They bowed their head. ``It will remain available. Please ask if you require. Time skew is a part of our existence, here, and has been since the first convergence. It is how we have managed to learn your language and prepare for your arrival. We work at a high positive skew.''
``We had wondered about that,'' Codrin said. ``Your reply to our letters was almost instantaneous. Even when we had several instances of a single individual working on a problem, we were slower.''
``Some problems are more difficult to work on in parallel than others,'' Artante said.
``I suppose responding to a letter is one of those, yeah, unless it's responding to otherwise unconnected points in a letter.''
The fourthracer nodded. ``We were like you before we arrived. We had the concept of forking but not of time skew.''
Tycho kept waiting for True Name to interrupt, for her to tell them that they needed to stay on topic, but the skunk seemed interested enough in the topic to let it continue.
``I would like to know more, representative Artante Diria.'' The skunk sat up straighter, quelling a wave of human form before continuing. ``When we fork, our new instances can quit and we are presented with their memories so that we may have the experiences of both instances should we choose. Is that how your system worked?''
``Similar, yes, though only if the fork was created from the current instant.''
True Name tilted her head, gestured for the representative to explain.
Artante looked thoughtful as she continued, more slowly now. ``I could fork from who I am now and then be able to accept the memories of that instance without issue. If I were to fork from who I was five minutes ago, accepting those memories would be very difficult. Forking from more than a day in the past made accepting memories all but impossible.''
Stunned silence from the emissaries greeted this explanation.
``Is there a portion of this that needs clarification?'' Artante asked, frowning.
``We can only fork from the present. From the current instant, as you say,'' Codrin said. ``That's a fascinating idea, though. Do you know how it worked? If Dear—my instance artist partner, that is—could do that, it would open up worlds of possibilities to it.''
She bowed apologetically. ``It has been nearly a millennium since I have been able to fork, recorder Codrin Bălan, and even then, I was not very adept at it. In one of your letters, you discussed dissolution strategies; I was what you would call a tasker. I will ask another of my race for details after the conference.''
Codrin grinned and elbowed Tycho in the side. The astronomer rolled his eyes.
``As am I,'' he said. ``Never got the hang of it, never really felt the need to.''
Artante laughed, nodded. He was pleased at the familiarity of her expressions. It made at least one of the Artemisians he could read.
``How did you adapt to time skew?''
All heads turned toward Why Ask Questions. The question had been mumbled and quiet, but surprising coming from one who had been otherwise silent.
``Many of us did not,'' Artante said. ``During our convergence, it was primarily those who would be labeled taskers who took part.''
``Did others have trouble like me?''
There was another brief blur from the Artemisians as they discussed among themselves. Tycho saw Codrin frown and make a note.
\emph{That they needed to do that is probably telling,} he thought.
``Not in the same fashion, but some experienced difficulties, yes.'' Artante hesitated, glanced at Turun Ka, and then continued. ``We have decided that it would be best to revisit this topic later on in our meeting, however, as we do not want to distract from other topics we must cover during our time together.''
Why Ask Questions/Answers Will Not Help nodded. ``Would appreciate that,'' she said, the words coming out slurred and elongated as she veered into and out of slow time. She seemed to be having an increasingly hard time remaining in common time, not to mention remaining in one form. ``Can we take a break for a few minutes?''
Turun Ka stood from where it had crouched. ``Yes. Please feel free to return to your rest area or a unison room for the next fifteen minutes common time, and then we shall reconvene.''
``Can we do so in a unison room?''
``Yes. Representative Iska will see to the arrangements. One of us will fetch the other emissaries to guide you back to the new meeting location.''
The soft-furred secondracer stood still for a moment, squinted. ``You should be locked to common time for the time being. It is very difficult to synchronize skew with you, though. I don't know why. I will contact a system technician during our break.''
``If I walk backward, time moves forward. If I walk forward, time rushes on,'' she gasped out, then laughed hoarsely. ``If I stand still, the world moves around me!''
True Name jolted at the brief recitation, standing quickly and taking her cocladist by the elbow. ``Come, my dear. Let us get to the room.''
Tycho looked to Codrin, who only frowned.
Something had happened, just then. Something of import. He had no clue as to what it had been, though. Neither did he understand how he knew, he realized, but he knew that it was something distressing. Something wrong.

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\hypertarget{tycho-braheartemis-2346}{%
\chapter{Tycho Brahe\#Artemis — 2346}}
\markboth{Tycho Brahe\#Artemis — 2346}{}
\begin{quote}
\emph{Convergence T-minus 2 days, 17 hours, 6 minutes}
\end{quote}
\noindent ``We would like to ask you about the history of your species.''
There was a brief pause as the Artemisians once more blurred into discussion. Iska had set up the sim such that the Artemisians remained in skew while the emissaries sat in a unison room, the table spanning an entrance arch. It had certainly helped with the True Name and, as he was now convinced, Answers Will Not Help. Neither seemed particularly back to baseline, and Answers Will Not Help continued to fluctuate between forms unless she focused on one at a time, but neither looked as though that took quite as much effort as it had originally.
``Are you able to narrow the scope of your question?''
The skunk frowned, tilted her head, and thought for a few long seconds. ``I would like to learn about how it is that each of your species arrived at the point where you uploaded. I would also like to know if this is how a convergence has occurred in the past.''
Yet another blur.
Tycho watched Codrin add a tick mark to a growing list on his notebook then dash off a few marks next to it in some sort of shorthand. ``Keeping track of private discussions?''
The recorder nodded. ``And what the general topic was that spurred it.''
After a few seconds, the Artemisians slid back out of fast time, and Turun Ka spoke once more. ``To your second request, yes, this fits the pattern as established after the first convergence. When we approached a star for a gravity assist, we confirmed radio transmissions following a familiar pattern and halted our planned maneuver to orbit the second planet from the star. There, we found a planet-bound civilization of approximately two billion biological individuals. We analyzed the language well enough to learn it within a day common time, and were able to initiate contact. I will allow representative Iska to describe from here.''
The secondracer sat up straight. ``We approached the communication with caution until we were able to ascertain that the object appeared to be a solid cylinder with few moving parts. After establishing a line of communication, we were able to understand that they were like those that we had called embedded. After approximately\ldots{}'' They trailed off, blurred into fast-time, then returned. ``Approximately fifteen months, we were able to modify both of our systems to accept uploads from the other. Our talks were not as structured as this convergence, and we became secondrace without much discussion. Eight billion of our estimated forty billion embedded individuals joined this ship and--''
Turun Ka and Iska blurred into fast time. Codrin added another tick mark.
``--And eighteen thousand consciousness bearing entities from firstrace remained in our system.''
``Over the next seventy-eight years,'' Turun Ka continued. ``We resumed our voyage, utilizing the star and outer planets for further gravity assists to achieve an acceptable velocity. For third- and fourthraces, we approached the convergences much as we approach this one, and in both cases, we were able to do so with a similar vehicle moving out-system.''
``And in each case, the decision to join was mutual?'' True Name asked.
``Yes.''
``Will you allow us to join you should we ask?''
Silence greeted the question. Codrin frowned and scribbled an extensive note.
``An answer is not necessary,'' the skunk said. ``Though am I correct in inferring that this question is more complex than a simple yes-or-no answer?''
``\emph{Anem.} Correct.''
The skunk leaned back in her chair briefly. She looked to be covering an expression of exhaustion, as though she desperately wanted to rub her face with her paws in an attempt to wake herself up, but dare not at the moment.
Finally, she said, ``Are you able to address my first request?''
``That is another complex question. It is not yet time to have that conversation.''
She nodded. ``To make sure that I am understanding correctly, you are not comfortable explaining how it is that each race went from a biological form to an uploaded form at this point. \emph{Anem?}''
\emph{``Ato esles,''} Turun Ko said. \emph{Except us.} ``Would be better to describe-explain us as post-biological. Physical form to uploaded-embedded form.''
``Is the knowledge itself uncomfortable, or the act of sharing it with us as emissaries?''
Another silence, another note from Codrin.
``Would it be uncomfortable for us to explain how we as a species moved from physical to embedded?''
``Now is not the time for the exchange of that information,'' Turun Ka said. ``There will be time for this discussion once prerequisite discussions are held. To explain this to us now is confusing.''
``Can you expand on `confusing'?''
``We do not know why you would tell us such a thing at this moment,'' Artante said. ``This is not the time to discuss this.''
True Name sat back as she digested this.
``Without explaining how we came to be as we are,'' Answers Will Not Help said, voice shifting between registers as her species shifted in turn. ``May we explain why we are interested in an exchange of this knowledge?''
A blurred discussion, another tick mark.
``You are proud of having achieved this, \emph{anem?}'' Turun Ka said. ``A separate embedded society from the physical society you have left behind on Earth?''
She nodded. ``We are, yes, and it could be that we might learn some information that might make it easier on us during the embedding procedure.''
``And easier on you?'' Artante asked.
Both Odists bridled at this, but Codrin preempted any arguments by leaning forward and saying, ``There are several core improvements that could be made to our systems that affect all inhabitants.''
``But also you specifically,'' she confirmed. ``I mean no disrespect by suggesting such. One is of the utmost importance to oneself, and this is admirable in its own right.''
After a long pause, True Name nodded. ``If there is a way that the Ode clade might benefit, then we would be interested. The issues that affect us are, to our knowledge, unique to our clade.''
``You see, then, why this conversation is complicated.''
The skunk may have masked her frustration, but that only let her exhaustion shine through all the more. ``I think it is appropriate to table this question for now.''
Artante nodded and Turun Ka lifted its snout in assent.
``You have lived with each other for millennia now,'' Sarah said. ``Do you continue to have topics such as this which are uncomfortable to discuss with each other?''
Another fast-time conversation.
Iska answered for the group. ``As our core society, no. There are aspects of each others' societies that do not mesh, however, so there are times when we remain separate as species, but there is nothing that is uncomfortable among the Council of Eight or common areas. Individually, we bear our own discomforts and taboos.''
Tycho wound up tuning much of the meeting out after that. The day felt long already, and though he couldn't tell what time it was, he just wanted to stand up and walk around.
The mood around the table was not tense, \emph{per se,} but he could tell that the Odists were frustrated by just how much of their questions were missing the mark, how many conversations it was not yet time to have. He couldn't read any of the Artemisians well enough to see any of the same on them, though he suspected that Stolon's apparent antsiness was borne of the same boredom he felt.
When they were finally able to take a break, he was eager to stand and stretch, then disappointed when Stolon ran off with the other delegates. He would have to catch up with the thirdracer another time.
Instead, he followed Codrin and Sarah out into the central colonnaded plaza where they could walk around and enjoy the sight of sunlight on alien plant life.
``Why does everyone seem stressed?'' he said, once they'd made a lap around the plaza. ``We have as much time as we want up here, basically. Shouldn't we just go slower and accept that it might take a while.''
Codrin yawned, rubbing a hand over eir face. ``I don't know if it's a time thing. I think True Name is stressed because we haven't figured out how to have conversations correctly. It's a sort of mutual misunderstanding. We don't know why they won't answer \emph{x} while they have no clue why we'd even ask it in the first place, and then the script gets flipped for the next question.''
``Didn't we know that going in, though?''
Ey shrugged. ``Knowing and experiencing are not the same thing. Also, I think we were lulled into a false sense of security by how easily the first conversations went. It felt like there was more mutual understanding there than there really was.''
Tycho laughed, brushing fingertips against one of the columns as they walked past. ``On one hand, I feel incredibly out of place with all that we're talking about, since I'm just the scientist. On the other, though, I guess I feel lucky that I'm not faced with the same problems.''
``I imagine that Tycho\#Castor is having a bit of an easier time of it,'' Codrin said. ``Still enjoying yourself here, at least?''
``I guess. Or, rather, I'm not sure if `enjoying' is the right word. I'm still fascinated by everything, and there's so much I want to do and ask. I just feel like everyone else is working on another level from me. True Name and Turun Ka are clicks above me in terms of how subtly they interact. Even you seem to operate on a different wavelength from me.''
Codrin shrugged. ``Too much time around Odists, perhaps.''
Tycho grinned and shook his head. ``Maybe, but I was thinking more that you are here to witness and be an amanuensis. You told me that I'd be doing the same weeks ago, and I still feel like that's way out of my league.''
Ey looked thoughtful at this as they made their way back to the meeting room. ``I was going to say `all you need to do is watch', but that's not totally accurate. I'm trained in this, and there's a way of thinking that goes along with that training.''
He nodded.
``Either way, don't worry about it, Tycho. You'll get time to talk about the things you want, I'm sure of it. Just make some, even. Catch Stolon to talk about nerdy stuff in fast time.''

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\hypertarget{tycho-braheartemis-2346}{%
\chapter{Tycho Brahe\#Artemis — 2346}}
\markboth{Tycho Brahe\#Artemis — 2346}{}
\begin{center}
\emph{Convergence T-minus 1 day, 2 hours, 38 minutes}
\end{center}
\noindent Over the last hour of common time, what tension was bound within True Name seemed to have been refocused from struggling quite so hard to maintain her form into being present and taking part. This meant that, while she was more susceptible to waves of shifting species and the occasional gasp or shudder, she grew far more intent on the task at hand, of learning from the discussions with the Artemisians.
Tycho found the ways in which her face would ghost first one way then the other fascinating and unnerving, but also the steadfastness with which she moved in the context of the meeting in spite of that admirable. While the talks had continued apace, with frequent breaks on the part of the Odists, there felt like more forward momentum thanks to this sacrifice.
Codrin had noticed the change as well, and when asked, ey had nodded in agreement. ``She approaches much of her\ldots well, I was going to say life, but it goes beyond that. She approaches much of her existence as a cost-benefit analysis of sorts. This level of control and momentum is worth the cost she's paying in comfort.''
``Leader Turun Ka,'' True Name began as soon as the session restarted after a break. ``I would like to ask how you manage sentiment here on Artemis. Are there many situations where the direction, momentum, or clarity of social change must be managed from a high level?''
Codrin, Sarah, and Tycho all frowned at this. Answers Will Not Help seemed only able to grit her teeth.
There was a blurred conversation among the Artemisians, after which their leader spoke up. ``In order to ensure that we answer the correct question you are asking, do you want information on how we govern?''
The skunk nodded. ``That, yes, but I am also interested in how you might control the flow of information across the system. Do you inject opinions, or restrict the transmission of opinions that the Council of Eight might feel uncomfortable being displayed openly?''
Artante's eyes darted over to Sarah, who lifted her eyebrows in a hint of a shrug.
``I will answer the question about governance first, and then we shall proceed to the second one,'' it said. ``We, in our capacities as leaders, perform very few actions in the time between convergences. In many cases, we act simply as those one might go to for advice. Something less than advisory. \emph{Lu}\ldots{}''
``More of a familial role,'' Artante said. ``Avuncular, perhaps. The Council is comprised of individuals who are exemplary in both intellectual and emotional intelligence from among their races, and any aboard Artemis may request a meeting in order to discuss solutions to difficult problems.''
``And during convergences?'' True Name asked.
``During convergences, we act more in the way that you suggest. We act as a filter between the recipients of the information and the converging civilization. The cases in which we might block information or shape it to our own means remain rare, but the ability to explore the ramifications of that information and prepare for possible outcomes we have found useful.''
``This makes sense. Thank you, leader Turun Ka. We work along similar lines, where we have first access to information coming from Artemis—our only convergence thus far—and we are able to run simulations on possible outcomes in order to prepare for reactions.''
The firstracer turned its head to the side in what Tycho supposed must be confusion. ``Please expand on `simulations', leader True Name.''
``The term is overloaded, perhaps. We explore possible reactions by playing them out among members of our clade or others in an advisory role. Some instances of ourselves will play the role of the recipients of that news while others play the role of those who are receiving the information. Another, perhaps more distasteful, term for this, is `wargaming'.''
The Artemisians immediately sped up for a private meeting, and Tycho once again turned his attention to True Name's face, searching for any sign of anxiety, anything to show that she regretted having said a word that implied violence.
There was nothing there. She just looked tired. Calm, but tired.
Once they returned to common time, Turun Ka continued. ``Of the four races aboard, three of them have an analogous term, though it has not made it into common usage in our shared language.''
``\emph{Tuvårouni} is the word for wrestling in the common tongue, but `push-play' in the context of planning can mean `to wargame','' Iska said. ``It is not common except in the context of old \emph{Nanon} stories.''
Both Codrin and Sarah took notes throughout the description, True Name looking on in exhaustion to ensure that they got the topics down.
``Thank you, leader Turun Ka, representative Iska, for explaining. Another part of my question would be do you shape information via communications? For instance, in order to quell fears that there might be some breach in our DMZ—demilitarized zone, if you will pardon more warlike language, the air-gapped sim in which these conversations are taking place on Castor—we injected communications into the news feed in the form of carefully worded questions about the nature of the security measures, snide remarks about how thankful people were that the security was in place, or subtle propaganda.''
``This is not common for us, no,'' Turun Ka said. ``Part of this is due to the lack of centralized news and communication sources between the races.''
``Is there so little communication between the races?'' Sarah asked.
It was Artante that answered. ``There is communication, yes, but large portions of the four races aboard stay within enclaves made up of members of their own races. All shared areas except for this complex are open to all races, and there are news sources available in there, but by virtue of infrequent access by large portions of the population, news does not spread very far.''
``Not even by way of rumor?'' True Name asked.
``Rumors do spread,'' Iska said when the Artemisians returned to common time. ``Much of Artemis likely knows of the current convergence by now. We do not attempt to control the rumors.''
``Not even by considering the wording of this news?'' Tycho could hear the control in the skunk's voice. Was she frustrated, perhaps?
``We write-speak-disseminate clearly-precisely,'' Turun Ko said. ``But-yet even fourthrace understands-knows that convergences occur and that they are handled-dealt-with.''
True name nodded and subsided, bowing her head with blurring of her form. ``\emph{Eslosla datåt,}'' she said. ``Thank you all.''
``No ranks of angels will answer to dreamers,'' Answers Will Not Help whispered when the silence drew out, then stood unsteadily, ghosted images of a tail jolting her hips first this way and then that. ``No unknowable spa\ldots spaces\ldots my apologies. May we take a break?''
``Yes, of course,'' Artante said. ``Please be well.''
After True Name and Answers Will Not Help tottered off to their rooms, each leaning on the other, Codrin, Sarah, and Tycho sat on a pair of beds, heads down and running in fast time in order to discuss the last segment of conversations.
``I wasn't expecting her to be that open about political machinations,'' Tycho said. ``I'd think she'd want to keep it under wraps. If her and Jonas and their friends have been working to shape our past so much, you'd think they'd want to be a bit more subtle about that.''
Sarah shrugged. ``Maybe, though it could be many things. Could be that they're aiming to show the whole of us, positives and negatives, as the Artemisians don't have the context of the \emph{History}. Perhaps she wants to show that we have a society strong enough to handle manipulation without slipping into authoritarianism. The fact that we use language so consciously is probably a sign in our favor, in the end.''
``Or she could just be slipping,'' Tycho added.
``She's hardly winding up in word salad territory,'' she allowed. ``But it's hard to tell how much of that was telling the truth, being a politician, or actually getting into the territory of grandeur.''
``No reason it can't be both, I guess.'' Codrin sighed, buried eir face in eir hands, and rubbed eir face vigorously. ``She might be working on some level way above our pay grades and still having a hard time keeping it together.''
Tycho frowned as those fears once more floated to the surface. Something was going on in these talks that he simply didn't understand. Things were being said with so many different meanings and the subtext felt completely disconnected from the text.
``Is it always like this?'' he asked.
``Is what like this?''
``Working with them. Working with any politician.''
Codrin grinned. ``Well, I can certainly confirm that the Odists work in ways that feel distant from what we're used to. Dear will occasionally say something that makes no sense in context, but then a week or two later, I'll realize what it actually meant, or that it was a suggestion that I'd subconsciously started following without really thinking about it.''
``They're incredible at reading people,'' Sarah said. ``At least with Dear, I can see it being sort of a positive—or at worst, playful—way of influencing. I'm not sure with True Name, and have no idea what Why Ask Questions might be doing otherwise.''
Tycho looked to Codrin, who gave him a subtle shake of the head. ``Me either,'' he said at last. ``Hell, I have no idea what's going on with them either, other than what Codrin's told me. Have you heard anything else from the delegates back Castor?''
``Just a little bit about language,'' ey said thoughtfully. ``We actually touched on it today with that bit about `old Nanon', so I'll write em back. I'd asked em a question about the Odists and what their roles had been because I was having a hard time piecing together memories, and ey confirmed that.''
``What sort of question?'' Sarah asked.
Ey hesitated. ``Well, I was asking about the difference between Why Ask Questions and Answers Will Not Help since we've worked with both of them. Ey confirmed that both worked on shaping sentiment, just different areas of expertise. My guess is that if\ldots well, Why Ask Questions were feeling better, she'd have a lot to add to the conversation we had today.''
\emph{Wonder how the Artemisians would react to that?} Tycho thought. \emph{True Name was honest, but not enough to bring up this little bit of trickery.}

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\chapter{Tycho Brahe\#Emissary — 2346}}
\markboth{Tycho Brahe\#Emissary — 2346}{}
\noindent ``\emph{Nahi,} scientist Tycho Brahe.''
He sat up straighter and grinned, waving to the thirdracer. ``Uh, \emph{nahi}. Just Tycho is fine.''
Stolon tilted their head to the side, the frill of elongated scales stretching from the back of their neck spreading wider. He'd decided that this was an expression of happiness.
``\emph{Ka, ka,} can call Stolon also. I am, \emph{lu}\ldots sorry that your friend exits. I do not know how, Iska looks into this.''
He shifted to the side, making enough room on the low sill of the window that looked out over the curated garden beyond. Both times he'd managed to snag time with Stolon before, they'd met here, an incongruous alcove down the hallway from their rest area. He knew that he was technically supposed to be in the courtyard with Codrin and Sarah to wait for whatever it was that was supposed to happen next, but everything had just been so overwhelming\ldots{}
Stolon perched on the edge of the windowsill, tilting their head toward the bright sunlight that seemed to be perpetually streaming through to bask. The North American in him had taken to thinking of the spot as having southern exposure.
They sat in silence for a while, each enjoying the sun in their own way.
``Sci--\emph{lu,} Tycho, are talks going well for you?''
He picked at a corner of the stone sill, shrugging. ``I suppose so. I'm feeling really in over my head.''
``In over\ldots?''
``\emph{Nu\ldots nukupot\ldots kopotla\ldots{}}'' he stammered, hunting through the language he'd been trying to mainline over the last three days.
``\emph{Iha! Ka, ka, nukupotla,} not-knowing?''
``Something like that. I don't know what's going on, and don't have much to contribute. Not much knowledge to give, I mean, when we're talking about social stuff.''
``Rrr, \emph{ka,} I also.''
The thirdracer made what looked to be a frustrated gesture with one of their hands and then shifted to drape languidly over the edge of the windowsill, hands hanging nearly down to the ground and feet kicking lazily behind them in the alcove. It was a nearly childlike move that he found incredibly endearing. Something more\ldots well, not human, but perhaps personable in this otherwise impersonal conference.
``I went into academia because-- sorry, into studying as one of the only things I do in my life because that seemed to be the only way I could just do what it was that I wanted,'' he mused. ``No commitments, no distractions. Just the stars and math.''
Stolon stretched out long enough to grab a curly-edged leaf from one of the short bushes, picking at it between dull claws. ``I also, \emph{ka.} I am not\ldots combination? Child? I am from before embedding. Before before, I also study. I study stars and inside planets. I also in over my head. I am knowing how convergence works, so I am here, but still I dream of stars.''
``Is the convergence something you had to study for?''
``\emph{Ka.} I learn your language, not so well, maybe.'' They chattered their teeth in something like amusement. ``Also I learn path of convergence. Items on checklist, leader Turun Ka says. We have list of steps for convergence, and each of us\ldots{}\emph{jaruvi}\ldots see? Notice\ldots each of us notice what you say and what you do, and we complete checklist. I study this before.''
Tycho frowned. ``Checklist? Like there are things that need to be completed? Is there a goal?''
``\emph{Nu,} no goal, just to be happy and safe. No completed, just notice these things, and decide what to do next.''
``Oh, so more looking for patterns.''
``\emph{Anem.} We find patterns and say `yes yes' or `no no' and do next thing. You hear, `this is not time to have that conversation'. We say because we use checklist.''
``Sounds like politics.''
``Rrr, politics, \emph{anem.} Want stars. Want to share knowledge. Want to make knowing full. Politics is not this.''
``Right, yeah. That's more True Name's field. I don't understand it at all.'' He shrugged. ``But who knows what will come next.''
``Turun Ka knows maybe. I think is okay, though. We think you are smart. We like you. We and you both want happy and safe. I am sorry about representative\ldots rrr\ldots{}''
``Answers Will Not Help.''
``\emph{Ka.} I am sorry. I am not worrying, though.'' They poked a torn bit of the leaf into their mouth and chewed thoughtfully before spitting it out with a choking sound. ``\emph{Natarla\ldots{}}''
Laughing, Tycho said, ``Not so tasty?''
``\emph{Nu, nu,}'' Stolon said, chattering their teeth again.
``Why aren't you worried?''
The thirdracer shrugged, tail flipping about in a wide arc as they rolled over onto their back, flexible enough to drape over the windowsill and sun their belly that way. ``Convergence is convergence. Is to be happy and safe, \emph{ka?} Is for leaders and representatives. Scientist, am not worrying. Stars are not lying. Artemis is not lying. Physics is not lying. If you do not join Artemis, will, \emph{lu}\ldots think about? Will think about you, but good to be happy and safe, and science is not lying.''
Throughout Stolon's short speech, Tycho sat up straighter, his grin growing wider. ``Yeah, I like that. Science is not lying. It can't, really, can it? Politics can lie, and maybe that's why I hate it so much.''
``\emph{Ka, ka.}''
``And I'd think about you too, if things go that direction. I honestly didn't really think about that being on the table until after the conference started and we began actually interacting with each other, and now I have to admit that I'm really hoping it \emph{does} work out. I like it here.''
``Is home, \emph{anem.} I am liking it, but I am also only living here.''
Tycho nodded, ``I'm only on Castor and Pollux, yeah.''
``Is Pollux same?''
``Yeah, they started out identical, but they've diverged over time.'' He frowned, shrugged. ``I bet Tycho\#Pollux is feeling awful now, missing all of this.''
``No Tycho on Lagrange construct?''
``Nope, I invested fully. Did you leave an instance of yourself back on your original system?''
``\emph{Lu}\ldots yes, but they exited after convergence and distance grew. Friends say that Stolon got sad, spent all of time thinking about Artemis.'' They lifted their snout to peer up at him. ``Tycho will join if possible, \emph{anem?}''
He laughed. ``\emph{Anem!} Of course I will.''

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\hypertarget{tycho-braheartemis-2346}{%
\chapter{Tycho Brahe\#Artemis — 2346}}
\markboth{Tycho Brahe\#Artemis — 2346}{}
\begin{center}
\emph{Convergence T-minus 0 days, 0 hours, 18 minutes}
\end{center}
\noindent Tycho awoke with the idea fully formed within himself.
So sudden was the realization that his immediate instinct was to shove it to the back of his mind and do his level best to forget about it. He didn't want to admit it to True Name, to Sarah or Stolon, and even Codrin, grounding as ey was, seemed to be too real to discuss it with.
He barely even wanted to admit it to himself. Didn't want to name it, put words to it.
So he resigned himself to sitting through the meeting, trying not to look too uncomfortable as the lump of an idea sat within his gut, making itself known every time he moved, every time he thought.
He was thankful that him having been relatively quiet to date meant that him staying quiet now was not out of the ordinary.
During the first break of the morning, he retreated to the rest area rather than meeting with Stolon, requesting some distance to organize his thoughts.
He skewed mildly positive and lay on his bed for a while, letting the quiet of the room in so that he could finally admit the idea for full consideration.
The path leading up to it had been laid long before, he realized. It had been laid when he first learned about the concept of convergence. Perhaps it was at the time of his first ineffable idea more than three weeks back, when he first granted consent to four alien races to board the LV.
Or perhaps even before that. Perhaps it was something integral to him, something about what made him \emph{him.} Some fundamental unhappiness with his life as it was. Not just the inability to see the stars, not just the feeling of being trapped, or whatever it was that had required the self-actualization of changing his name so many years ago.
\emph{I am not who I used to be,} he had thought at the time. \emph{I am no longer the me who uploaded. I am the me who had grown to recognize his own limitations. I am Tycho Brahe.}
That didn't apply here; he was who he'd always been. This decision had been with him from birth.
He left his bed, left the rest area and returned to the meeting, with no more answers than he'd entered with, only more confusion.
When he returned to the table, Codrin was standing anxiously by as Turun Ka read through a sheet of paper that, he assumed, ey had just handed it. A questioning glance at em gained only a minuscule shrug. Ey didn't know either.
He collapsed limply into his chair once more and waited for the other delegates to arrive. True Name looked somewhat refreshed from the previous day, though still exhausted, and Sarah looked as anxious as Codrin, though he could hardly guess why.
Stolon, at best guess, simply looked bored and antsy. They kept glancing at him questioningly, and he gave his best smile in return, hoping that it'd at least reassure them a little bit.
``The talks progress. Does anyone have any topics for this next segment of the discussions?'' Turun Ka asked.
``I do,'' Sarah said. ``How do you deal with restlessness?''
``Can you describe what you mean, representative Sarah Genet?''
``Yes. When one grows bored and unhappy with their current situation, yet with no clear idea of where to go next, it can lead to a feeling of restlessness. I mean this primarily in an existential way, rather than a practical one. Desiring getting away from scarcity to plenty is not what I'd call restlessness, but a desire to change one's surroundings because one knows the current ones too well, for example, is. Boredom and ennui are other terms.''
He tentatively tried labeling the idea that coiled within him with `restlessness' and found that it fit all too well. It expanded, rose, pressed against his chest from the inside. He tried, unsuccessfully, to swallow it down. It was quickly becoming too much. Too big. Too strong to keep within him.
``We are well aware of this feeling,'' Artante was saying. ``After millennia, one gets bored easily, and there's--''
``I want to stay here,'' he interrupted, surprising even himself. ``Even if we don't become fifthrace or anything. I want to stay here. I want to stay on Artemis.''
Stunned silence fell around the table. Even he felt some of that shock. The words were out of his mouth before he'd even had the chance to check them for truth, and yet they bore as much truth as any mathematical theorem that he knew. They were \emph{anemla.} They were \emph{true.} They were \emph{correct.}
``I also want for us to be fifthrace, I mean,'' he added, voice quieter. ``I want this convergence to wind up with that ending of the two. I want to join you, and I want \emph{us} to join you.''
``Tycho,'' True Name said, voice low. ``I understand that the talks are long, but I think there is time yet for that decision.''
``Maybe,'' he said, shrugging. ``But if I didn't say so, I was going to burst.''
Another silence. It felt uncomfortable on their side of the table, and yet the Artemisians had already spun up to fast time, some quite high skew.
``Sorry,'' he mumbled.
True Name shrugged. ``You are allowed to express your desires. I am simply concerned that this was not the best time for it.''
``I understand.''
They waited in uncomfortable silence.
``I don't know that I'll join personally,'' Codrin said after the Artemisians spun down but before they answered. ``But I want that outcome, too. It's been dogging me all morning. I think Tycho just got to it before me.''
``You want your race to be fifthrace even if you don't join?'' Artante asked.
Ey nodded. ``I'm surprised at how much I like it here. I could see myself living here, even. Just that joining would mean leaving behind at least one, and probably both, of my partners. Dear is an Odist, and would likely experience what True Name and Answers Will Not Help are---or did. I'm not sure that I could stomach that. Still, it's incredibly alluring, and speaks to the romantic in me. A meeting of species and cultures from light years apart, and little old us having the chance to be a part of that.''
Artante looked toward Sarah expectantly.
``I find it fascinating here. I find this whole process of convergence fascinating, and I would find the process of integration even more so. I think that's why I brought up restlessness. One of Codrin's partners said, shortly after we first made contact, `\emph{When I hear about Artemisians and emissaries, I feel every minute of that eternity. I feel every molecule of that universe. You ask how I feel, and I would say that I feel small. Insignificant, even. How much of that eternity must they have been traveling?}' My response at the time was to toast to that, `To eternity and the weight of the universe'. I'd still give that toast now.'' She shrugged, looking a little sheepish at her small speech. ``So yes, I want that too, and I'd send a fork to join.''
``Leader True Name?''
The skunk sat in silence, her head bowed and her eyes closed. If it weren't for the way her ears twitched this way and that as though tallying some internal checklist of her own, he might've suspected that she'd nodded off.
``I must confess that I may have forgotten what it is like to want a thing,'' she said at last. ``I do not know what it is that I want. I cannot stay here, as is plainly evident, but I do not know what I want.''
Codrin nodded. ``May I quote from the \emph{History?}''
She sighed, nodded.
``Both you and Jonas mentioned the concepts of stability and continuity during several interviews. We summarized it as, ``Beyond all else, the driving factors behind Launch—and, indeed, Secession—were those of stability and continuity of the System. That life should continue, that we should continue to thrive, was the goal of those working on both projects from start to finish.'' Do you still want that? Becoming fifthrace as a stable and continuous society feels analogous, \emph{anem?}''
The longer ey spoke, the more True Name seemed to perk up. By the end of eir recitation, she was sitting up straight and had a smile on her muzzle. It was slight, true, and still tired, but it was an honest smile.
``I do, yes. Thank you, Codrin. Then yes, I want that outcome as well.'' To the Artemisians, she said, ``We began the project of Launch as a way to divest. We wanted to ensure the continuity of our species and the Systems that we live on—Castor, Pollux, and Lagrange. We want to explore, of course, and we want to change and grow and all that comes with life, but we also want to keep living. I can think of no better opportunity for divestment than tagging along on a millennia-long journey through the galaxy.''
Tycho laughed, nodded. ``And hey, think of the sights we'll get to see along the way.''
``For certain definitions of see, yes.'' She smiled and shrugged. ``Thank you for spurring this discussion, my dear. I do not want to take too much time away from the conference, though, leader Turun Ka. I apologize if we need to get back to the topic at hand.''
After the round of answers, there was a long, blurred meeting, and then the Artemisians stood as one, each bowing as their race had when they first arrived.
Tycho stood as well, and, after a moment's hesitation, so too did the rest of the table. He didn't know why they were standing and bowing, but it seemed to be what the moment demanded.
Something had happened, just then. Something of import. He had no clue as to what it had been. Neither did he understand how, he realized, but he knew that it was something decisive. Something, perhaps, momentous.
``Leader True Name, as leader of this delegation and member of the Council of Eight,'' Turun Ka said, voice bearing the weight of ritual. ``I would like to formally welcome you aboard Artemis as fifthrace.''
True Name stared at it, agog.
Turun Ko picked up from there, its speech suddenly free of doublings-back and duplicated words. ``Recorder Codrin Bălan, as recorder of this delegation, I welcome you as a member of fifthrace aboard Artemis. The final step on our checklist was simply a desire to join.''
Stolon continued, proceeding down the line. They were bouncing on their feet, teeth chattering, clearly quite excited. ``\emph{Ka, ka.} Scientist Tycho Brahe, I am welcoming you as member of fifthrace aboard Artemis. We will dream of stars together.''
Tycho's eyes burned as he stood, rigid, and listened to the series of formal declarations. All of the delegates looked overwhelmed, shocked.
``I am not able to speak to representative Why Ask-- Answers Will Not Help,'' Iska said. ``So I will speak to all. I welcome you as members of fifthrace aboard Artemis. We, as a society, look forward to learning of your arts.''
Artante was crying. Hell, \emph{he} was crying.
``Representative Sarah Genet,'' she said through the tears. ``I welcome you as a member of fifthrace aboard Artemis. You asked us if we dream, and we do. We look forward to dreaming together.''
Silence followed the series of formal greetings, broken only by the sound of himself and Artante working to regain their composure.
``I must admit, leader Turun Ka,'' True Name said, voice hoarse. ``I was not expecting this. I had been working under the assumption that we still had several steps to go on your checklist. This feels sudden.''
``\emph{This} is the reason for us holding two separate talks in separate locations about separate topics,'' it said with a hint of a bow. ``Working in parallel with different parameters increases the opportunities for forward momentum. The message that I received from Castor via recorder Codrin Bălan mentioned the penultimate step had been reached, that of acting individually for the betterment of all without the blessing of leadership. With that news, we expected that the decision point would be reached today. The opportunities for happiness and safety were created. There will be further talks as long as we are within range, and even after as we join with one another, all of which will simply be between us as species with shared goals rather than delegates.''
She and nodded, that faint smile returning. ``A sensible approach.''
``We have only small time together, \emph{anem?} We must create speed, \emph{anem?}'' Stolon said.
``Yes. Well considered. I thank you for your openness.''
Turun Ka lifted its snout. ``We have passed the point where conversations must wait. All topics are open and more representatives from all races may attend. First, however, recorder Codrin Bălan,'' Turun Ka said, drawing a sheet of paper from the air before it. ``Please send this announcement to Castor by the usual mechanism without encryption, after you have all authenticated the message with a personal detail to ensure that this is viewed as a mutual decision. Please send those signatures encrypted.''
True Name accepted the sheet, read through, thought for a moment, then scribbled a short note on the bottom. She handed the sheet to Codrin, who did similar.
When it arrived before him, Tycho skimmed through the letter: ``Both parties\ldots agreed\ldots fifthrace\ldots welcome\ldots{}'' followed by a few blocks of unsettled text that he supposed must be the eyes-only signatures of the Artemisians and the other two emissaries before him.
What could he possibly write that would ensure that Tycho\#Castor knew the letter was verifiable? He looked around at the other emissaries, thought back through the last few weeks, and wrote: ``Remember what you told Codrin during eir interview: imagine sitting at home, knowing that you could have flung yourself off into space, out among the dangers and excitement, and choosing instead that boring safety? Well, here we are.''
He passed the note on to Sarah, who affixed her signature and handed it back to Codrin. Ey held it briefly, looking to be deep in thought, then nodded. ``It has been sent, leader Turun Ka.''
``Tycho,'' True Name said, loud enough for all to hear. ``Do you remember the poem I quoted to you the night of first contact?''
He nodded.
``The final two lines of the fourth stanza are the most commonly quoted: Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; I have loved--''
``I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night,'' he finished, grinning. ``That was the last thing I said before uploading. It'll be the last thing I'll say before I leave Castor.''