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Madison Scott-Clary
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toledot/content/launch/sys/Ioan/001.tex
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\hypertarget{ioan-bux103lan-2325}{%
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\chapter{Ioan Bălan — 2325}\label{ioan-bux103lan-2325}}
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The first thing that Ioan did when ey arrived before that low-slung house, there among countless acres of rolling buffalo grass, was laugh.
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The prairie was as ey remembered. Grass still tickled at eir lower calves even through the socks and slacks; clouds threatened rain as they always did; wind tugged at eir hair in all the very same ways it first had however many years ago now---was it really twenty? And yet the house! Banners were hung about in deepest black, streamers running from pole to pole in a welcoming path, guiding visitors. The house itself was lit about with flames of all sizes: tea-lights scattered among the dandelions, elaborate candelabras set upon tables, braziers set upon tripods, wall sconces set beneath the cantilevered roof. A glow painting the grass beside the house suggested a bonfire out back.
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And there, the largest banner of them all, draped from that roof, shouted in stately capitals: ``HAPPY DEATH DAY''.
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Still shaking eir head, ey walked up along the streamer-lined path up toward the house. When the threshold was crossed, a chime sounded from within.
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Ioan need not have looked hard for Dear; the fox was already sprinting around the corner of the house. Fox\emph{es}, ey realized, for as it ran, it forked off copies of itself of all sorts: that iridescent fennec ey remembered, yes, but also scampering foxes no larger than a double-handful, a few grinning copies of the Michelle Hadje of its past, and even a shoulder-high lumbering beast with eyes that crackled with a light of their own.
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Dear---the real Dear---was easy to pick out, for it was dressed in mourners' garb. A black suit, almost-but-not-quite masculine, with its eyes hidden by a gauzy black, almost-but-not-quite feminine veil.
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One by one, the various forks quit, and Dear, Also, The Tree That Was Felled skidded to an unceremonious stop in front of em.
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\emph{``Ioan! Mx. Ioan Bălan! It has been too long! I have missed you.''} The fox held out a paw.
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Ioan bypassed this and went straight for the hug. ``Dear, this is patently ridiculous.''
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The laughter against eir ear was giddy as the hug was returned. \emph{``I hold no patent on the ridiculous. It is precisely as ridiculous as it needs to be. Come! Come around back. You are early, and that is perfectly fine, but folks will want to say hi.''}
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Following after the fox and laughing at the way the occasional non-anthropomorphized fennec would blip into being, scamper into the grass with a (frankly rather horrifying) screech, and then disappear, Ioan tried to chat with Dear.
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The fox was short on speech after the greeting, eventually hushing em. \emph{``We'll all talk together.''}
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``Ioan! Goodness!''
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Ey smiled. ``Codrin, you're looking well.''
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What similarities the two had borne early on had since started to blur. Codrin had started out, as a matter of absent-mindedness, an identical copy of Ioan. While Dear could fork out all the unexpected shapes it wanted, Ioan had never mastered the art. Time changes much, however, and eir up-tree fork had deviated in style from Ioan's stolid adherence to form. Codrin's hair had long-since grown past Ioan's tousled look, and the curls ey hated so much adopted as an integral part of em. Eir face, too, had changed, adopting a femininity that suited eir features. The warm-colored sarong and tunic ey had last seen em in, however, had been replaced with clothes as funereal as Dear's.
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Matching, Ioan realized. They were a triad now, Codrin, Dear, and Dear's partner, and ey supposed there was no reason that the three of them shouldn't match on their so-called death day.
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There were hugs all around, and Ioan hid eir secret smile at the uncanny act of embracing one's own fork, however far they had diverged.
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``How are you three? Excited?''
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``Nervous is more like it.'' Dear's partner laughed. ``At least, I am. I can't speak for Codrin, but Dear hasn't shut up about this for months.''
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The fox looked quite proud of itself. \emph{``Guilty.''}
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Ioan looked to Codrin, who shrugged. ``I play the moderate, as always. I'm nervous and excited in equal parts. The nervousness comes from the irreversibility, and the excitement from the inevitability.''
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\emph{``Ey has a way with words, as always. I have been unable to be nervous, even about the irreversibility.''}
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``A new project, then?'' Ioan guessed.
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It smiled wryly. \emph{``You know me well. Yes, I cannot seem to think of anything else. Fewer things in life than we imagine are truly irreversible. Time is the one that everyone thinks of, and whenever they name some other process in life that seems irreversible, it really boils down to the ways in which it is bound by time. Breathing? Digestion? Aging? Death? All time-bound aspects that only bear the semblance of irreversibility.}
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\emph{``And yet we have short-circuited so much of that here. We have found ways to take time and set aside some of the constraints that it puts on those processes. Breathing, digestion, and aging are all optional, and death, as we must know, is something that must be chosen. Even then, a true death remains elusive. Perhaps we quit and merge down tree, but is that death? Perhaps all of our instances quit, but even this lacks some of the savor that a true death contains.''}
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``You're declaiming again.''
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Dear stuck its tongue out at its partner, a gesture that bordered on cute on that vulpine face.
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Its partner laughed. ``It took you a surprisingly short time.''
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\emph{``It has already been established that I am excited. Permit me this.''} After a pause, it continued. \emph{``Now, however, we have been permitted the wonder and curiosity that drives so many images of the afterlife. Now, we get as close as ever to} knowing \emph{that an afterlife exists, and ghosts will speak to us from beyond the heavens.''}
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``For a time,'' Codrin said.
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\emph{``For a time, and even that carries with it the irreversibility of time.''}
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The ideas touched on some subconscious musing that Ioan had carried with emself ever since the choice to remain had been made, and the group settled into a silence broken only by the crackling of logs on the bonfire. Ey didn't know what the others were thinking, there in the flickering light, but for em, the weight of that decision settled at last on em, and eir thoughts scattered before the implications.
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Ey had made eir own irreversible choice, and while ey knew that ey could technically reverse it up until that final point of no return later this evening, ey knew that ey would not.
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``Ioan?''
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Ey realized that the triad were staring at them. Ey shook eir head to dispel the rumination. ``Sorry. Yes?''
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``Where is May Then My Name?'' Dear's partner asked.
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``Here.''
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Four heads turned to watch the skunk, similar to Dear in so many ways but for species, pad around the corner. She smiled apologetically and bowed. ``Sorry I am late.''
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Dear brightened and bounced up to the skunk, part of its own clade, and once she stood straight again, hugged her. \emph{``My dear, a pleasure as always.''}
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Ioan waited for Dear to release May Then My Name Die With Me before getting eir own hug. After, she looped her arm through eirs, letting em play the escort and settling into a familiar pattern of constant touch.
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``Glad you could make it,'' Dear's partner said.
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``I would not miss it for the world. Besides, I am one of the honored guests, right?''
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Codrin smiled. ``We've only invited honored guests.''
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\emph{``Of course! And here come more.''}
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For the next hour, the chime of arrival was near constant as guest after guest arrived. Much of the Ode Clade showed, though Ioan noted that some of the more conservative members were absent, grudges remaining even to this day. Michelle Hadje herself, the root instance, was notably absent, and a tug of still-unprocessed emotions pulled at the insides of eir chest.
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Ioan had only met her once before, shortly before this whole plan had been set in motion. She was unfailingly kind, though if madness rode the whole of her clade, it seemed to affect her deeper than the rest. She was often taken by long silences, sometimes in the middle of sentences. During these, she lost coherence, her form rippling and changing, waves of skunk rolling down her form, followed by equally tumultuous waves of her human self. These spells would last anywhere from a few seconds to a few minutes, and even after they were quelled and the conversation resumed, afterimages of mephit muzzle and ears would ghost suddenly into place and just as quickly disappear.
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After that visit, Ioan had asked Dear about them. Its features darkened and it had averted its gaze. \emph{``We all have our ways of dealing with loss. She could seek change if she wanted, but\ldots it is complicated.''}
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It was rare for the fox to leave a thought unfinished, but Ioan could not think of a way to ask it to continue.
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While every guest was noteworthy in their own way, a few names stood out to em. Dear's sibling instance, Serene; Sustained And Sustaining, arrived, a deranged grin on her face as she ran directly at Dear and tackled it, the two foxes wrestling briefly on the ground before standing up and dusting themselves off again, both laughing.
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``I cannot believe you are going to destroy this place, you asshole. I spent weeks on the grass alone!''
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Dear grinned lopsidedly. \emph{``It is not yours anymore, however, and I am a sucker for grand gestures.''}
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``Some gesture!''
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\emph{``Asshole, remember?''}
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Serene had arrived with her and Dear's down-tree instance, That Which Lives Is Forever Praiseworthy. The entire clade, all one hundred of them, had each taken a line from a poem for their names, the shortest of which was What Right Have I, and the longest The Only Time I Know My True Name Is When I Dream, a jumble of syllables often shortened to just True Name. Both were present.
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Ioan was surprised by a guest who arrived late in the evening when the champagne and wine were already flowing. Simien Fang, the head of an institute that both Dear and Ioan had worked for at times in the past, made his appearance in classic understated style. He was dressed in all black, but only when viewed head on. He had apparently made an agreement with Dear to allow the occupants of the sim's vision to be modified such that when viewed out of the corner of the eye, his outfit flashed in a whirlwind of phosphene colors. Not only that, but his normally calm features distorted into a devilish grin, no matter the expression seen directly.
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The party rolled on inevitably. Good conversation, good wine, good food, good company.
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And riding along with it, a sense of impending change, of anxiety and excitement in unequal measure.
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A sudden peal of thunder, louder than any Ioan had ever heard, brought silence in its wake.
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\emph{``It is time! It is time! Please gather around the fire!''} Excitement filled Dear's voice, though Ioan thought ey could now detect a hint of nervousness that had not been there before. \emph{``There is no time for speeches, there is no time for goodbyes! It is time!''}
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The fox forked off several copies, all wide-eyed and feral-grinned, who helped to herd the hundred-and-change guests into a loose ring around the bonfire with shoves and snapping teeth before quitting.
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Ioan and May Then My Name took up places about a third of the way around the fire from Dear and its partners, the better to see without flames in the way.
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The triad stepped forward, and the circle closed behind them. Each forked in turn, the forks bowed, and disappeared.
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The weight of inevitability began to crest as midnight reared its head.
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The three within the circle began to sing.
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\begin{quote}
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Should old acquaintance be forgot\\
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and never brought to mind?
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\end{quote}
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Something about their posture forbid everyone else from joining in just yet. Their voices were raw, earnest all the same, carrying above the roar and crackle of the fire.
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\begin{quote}
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Should old acquaintance be forgot\\
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and auld lang syne?
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\end{quote}
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Ioan realized that ey was crying, that May Then My Name was crying, that many in the circle were crying, and when Dear raised its arms to the sky, all the gathered attendees around the fire began to sing as one.
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\begin{quote}
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For auld lang syne, my dear,\\
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for auld lang syne.\\
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We'll take a cup of kindness yet,\\
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For auld lang--
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\end{quote}
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Before the final note of the song could be sung, Dear gave a jaunty salute, bowed with a flourish, and quit along with its partner and Codrin Bălan.
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With a deafening silence, the landscape around them immediately crumbled into voxels, those voxels joined together by powers of two, and with a soft chime, a descending minor triad, all the members of the party were shunted off to wherever they called home.
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Ioan stumbled and fell to eir knees on the parquet of eir entryway, May Then My Name standing, defiant against the change in scenery, in air and light and gravity, beside em.
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``What an asshole,'' she laughed.
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Ioan and the skunk let the intoxication of the night cling to them a while longer while they sat on the balcony of Ioan's house, overlooking that perpetually lilac-scented yard, and talked. They talked of the party, of the modern house on the prairie, of Dear and the contradiction of formal intensity and playfulness that it seemed to embody, and then they talked of nothing at all as they sat in silence.
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It did not seem time yet to snap sobriety into being.
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It had taken Ioan several weeks to get used to the skunk's affectionate nature. When she first moved in as the intensity of the project began to ramp up, it had taken em by surprise. Even the act of her moving in was unexpected and new. Ey had needed to have a series of awkward conversations discussing boundaries and intentions.
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Now, it had become comfortable and familiar. May Then My Name was as she should be and Ioan had grown to enjoy that.
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As she slouched against eir side on that bench swing and ey settled eir arm around her, ey asked, ``What's the story behind your fork? Or your stanza?''
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``Mm?''
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``Well, Dear said that it and Serene were forked when their down-tree instance wanted to explore an interest in instances and sims. Is there something like that which led to\ldots to whatever your down-tree instance forking?'' Ey supposed that, were ey sober, ey might have better luck dredging up the lines from the stanza. Something about true names and God.
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May Then My Name shrugged, shoulder shifting against Ioan's side. ``In the early days, I---Michelle, that is---did not have much direction to her forking. Forks were created at need essentially to handle the increased workload. The first ten were created all at once in a burst of activity so that she could take a break.''
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``Were the early days busy?''
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``Very busy. We were one of the founders you know, and there were a lot of details that needed to be seen to before this place became what it is today.''
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Ioan nodded. ``Dear said that Michelle had campaigned to include sensoria in the System.''
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``Yes, though that is something of an elision that has become shorthand for experiences rather than thoughts.'' Her voice was clear, though it still held the careful articulation of one who has realized that they are not sober. ``We were not beings of pure thought, there were still experiences, but there was no guarantee that they would be shared. It was chaotic, as you might imagine from a set of unique individuals trying to dream the same dream.
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``This was back in the early days, you understand, before the System had become a dumping ground for the world's excess population.'' She smiled, far off. ``We were all starry-eyed dreamers, you know, and so were the engineers phys-side. Hard problems remain hard, however, and it kept getting deprioritized. Michelle and the rest of the founders provided arguments for the means by which we have consensual sensoria, as well as additional sensorium tools such as the messages.''
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Ioan relished the long-faded impulse to bristle at this. The Ode clade was notorious for their fondness for sensorium messages, those sensations and images that barged in on one's own senses. Ey still found them unnerving. Ey said, ``Just how much of the early System did your clade influence?''
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May Then My Name's laugh was quiet and muffled beside em. ``I am sure we have lost track. The first lines of each stanza quickly picked up interests of their own---even then they were rarely in communication---and each picked up a project of their own, and whenever a new project would come along, they would have to generate enough reputation to fork again. Everything was much more expensive back then, and we would sometimes have to pool our resources.''
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``What was your stanza's project?''
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She waved a paw vaguely. ``We lost the idea that the whole stanza would be working on similar projects after a while, so they are not as tightly connected any more. Early forks were much more likely to share similar interests, if only because the individuation had not set in as strongly. The first line of mine, though, The Only Time I Know My True Name Is When I Dream---True Name, you met her briefly tonight---was heavy in the politics of the early System and its relations to phys-side.''
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Ioan blinked, startled. ``I had no idea. I'm guessing that's back when it was a bigger deal?''
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``Very much so, yes.''
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``I thought there wasn't much political interaction after Secession, though.''
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She shrugged noncommittally, then rested her head back on Ioan's shoulder. The alcohol of the night still dogged em.
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``And the reason for your fork?''
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``To feel.''
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``To feel?''
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``To feel. True Name kept spinning off instances to work on such concrete things, I think she forgot how to feel. Emotions became distant out of habit. Touch became a distraction. I was to become her anchor. We would merge every few months after that, though it has been a long time since we last did so. She says that we will merge once this project is finished.''
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``You haven't diverged too far?'' Ioan asked.
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``She would like us not to,'' the skunk murmured. ``That is why I am acting as coordinator. It is a familiar role.''
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Ioan nodded. ``Close enough to politics, I suppose.''
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Another moment of silence. Ey permitted some of the drunkenness from the evening to drift away, allowing thoughts to come more clearly. May Then My Name relaxed further against eir side, and ey suspected she was not far away from sleep. Tomorrow, eir work would begin to pick up in earnest, so ey was tempted to let her sleep, but a question nagged at em.
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``May?''
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``I like it when you call me that,'' she mumbled.
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``It's a good name.'' Ioan smiled. ``I had a question, though. How much do you remember from back then?''
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She sat bolt upright, wrenching at eir shoulder. ``What did you say? Sorry.''
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Ey reclaimed eir arm, rubbing at the shoulder. ``It's okay. How much do you remember from the early days of the System? Around the time you uploaded, I mean.''
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``You, my dear, are a fucking genius.'' She was on her feet within a second, pacing back and forth in front of the bench swing. She paused mid-pace to lean down and bump her nose against Ioan's forehead; her form of a kiss. ``Fucking genius.''
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Given that she appeared to have sobered up, Ioan allowed emself to do the same. ``What do you mean?'' ey asked.
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``I want to modify the project scope. Can I tell you a secret?'' She was speaking quickly now.
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``Yes, of course.''
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``I want to modify the project and add in an early history of the System, of Secession. Do you think you would be up for adding that in?''
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Ioan frowned. ``If can I fork for it, I suppose.''
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May Then My Name laughed. ``You are talking to an Odist, of course you can fucking fork.''
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``Alright, alright. What's your secret, then?''
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``I want to write an early history of the System to parallel the current. They are eerily similar, you know, but it has been two hundred years. We are well past history, and doubtless there are histories already written. I remember the secession, I remember uploading, I remember getting lost, I remember everything. Yes, I remember. Of course I do. All the great and terrible things that we did. We could write a history, but that is all already there. There are paper trails and journals and everything phys-side already knows about us, but--''
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Ioan's eyes went wide as ey picked up on her idea. ``You want to turn it into a story.''
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She clapped and bounced excitedly on her feet. ``Yes! Yes, a mythology. I know I have mentioned them before, and we had talked about incorporating that aspect with Dear and Codrin. The history is important, and perhaps you can write that too, but now is not the time for \emph{only} history. Now is the time for--''
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``Stories.''
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In a decidedly Dear-like move, the skunk forked several times over, crowding the balcony before the bench swing with copies of herself, all of which had the same expression of glee. They quit quickly, and May Then My Name leaned forward to give Ioan a handful more of those nose-dot kisses. ``You get it!''
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``I worked with Dear, you nut. Of course I get stories.'' Ey laughed, reaching up to grab her around the waist and haul her back onto the swing beside em.
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How different she was than Dear. Individuation is born in the decades and centuries, though. Ey would never have thought to be so physical with the fox, but as she laughed and slumped back against eir side, ey realized ey had long since fallen into the habit of physicality, of touch. Of, ey realized, feeling, just as she'd said.
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\hypertarget{ioan-bux103lan-2325}{%
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\chapter{Ioan Bălan—2325}\label{ioan-bux103lan-2325}}
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Ioan and May Then My Name let the intoxication of the night cling to them a while longer while they sat on the balcony of Ioan's house, overlooking that perpetually lilac-scented yard, and talked. They talked of the party, of the modern house on the prairie, of Dear and the contradiction of formal intensity and playfulness that it seemed to embody. The conversation wound down, and then the two sat in silence. It did not seem time yet to snap sobriety into being.
|
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It had taken Ioan a few days to get used to the skunk's affectionate nature. When she first moved in as the intensity of the project began to ramp up, it had taken em by surprised, and ey had needed to have a series of awkward conversations discussing boundaries and intentions.
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Now, as she slouched against eir side on that bench swing and ey settled eir arm around her, he asked, ``What is the story behind your fork? Or your stanza?''
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``Mm?''
|
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``Well, Dear said that it and Serene were forked when Praiseworthy wanted to explore an interest in instances and sims. Is there something like that which led to\ldots to whatever your down-tree instance is forking?'' Ey supposed that, were ey sober, ey might have better luck dredging up the lines from the stanza. Something about true names and god.
|
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May Then My Name shrugged, shoulder shifting against Ioan's side. ``In the early days, I---Michelle, that is---did not have much direction to her forking. Forks were created at need essentially to handle the increased workload.''
|
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|
||||
``Were the early days busy?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Very busy. We were one of the first, you know, and there were a lot of details that needed to be seen to before this place became what it is today.''
|
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Ioan nodded. ``Dear said that Michelle had campaigned to include sensoria in the system.''
|
||||
|
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``Yes, though that word is something of an elision that has become shorthand for experiences rather than thoughts.'' Her voice was soft, though it still held the careful articulation of one who has realized that they are not sober. ``We were not beings of pure thought, there were still experiences, but there was no guarantee that they would be shared. It was chaotic, as you might imagine from a set of unique individuals trying to dream the same dream.
|
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``This was back in the early days, you understand, before the System had become a dumping ground for the world's excess population. We were all starry-eyed dreamers, and so were the engineers phys-side. Hard problems remain hard, however, and it kept getting deprioritized. Michelle and the rest of the Council of Eight provided arguments for the means by which we have consensual sensoria, as well as additional sensorium tools such as the messages.''
|
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|
||||
Ioan restrained the impulse to bristle at this. The Ode clade was notorious for their fondness for sensorium messages, those sensations and images that barged in on one's senses. Ey found them unnerving. Instead, ey said, ``Just how much of the early System did your clade influence.''
|
||||
|
||||
May Then My Name's laugh was musical. ``I am sure we have lost count. The first lines of each stanza quickly picked up interests of their own---they were in much better communication back then---and each picked up a project of their own, and whenever a new project would come along, they would petition the rest of the clade for the use of a line for a long-running fork. Everything was much more expensive back then, and we would sometimes have to pool our reputation.''
|
||||
|
||||
``What was your stanza's project?''
|
||||
|
||||
``We lost the idea that the whole stanza would be working on similar projects after a while, so they are not as tightly connected any more. The first line of mine, though, The Only Time I Know My True Name Is When I Dream---True Name---was instrumental in the secession of the System.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan blinked, startled. ``I had no idea. That early?''
|
||||
|
||||
``That was before we started using systime, yes.''
|
||||
|
||||
-\{``Two centuries ago? I thought Dear said Michelle uploaded after Secession.''\}(This whole bit is a continuity error)
|
||||
|
||||
She shrugged noncommittally, then rested her head back on Ioan's shoulder. The alcohol of the night still dogged em, but
|
||||
|
||||
``And the reason for your fork?''
|
||||
|
||||
``To feel.''
|
||||
|
||||
``To feel?''
|
||||
|
||||
``To feel. True Name kept spinning off instances to work on such concrete things, I think she forgot how to feel. Emotions became distant out of habit. Touch became a distraction. I was to become her anchor. We would merge every few months after that, though we have settled on once a decade, of late. We will merge once this project is finished.''
|
||||
|
||||
``You haven't diverged too far?'' Ioan asked.
|
||||
|
||||
``We try not to,'' the skunk murmured. ``That is why I am acting as coordinator. It is a familiar role.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan nodded. ``Close enough to Secession, I suppose.''
|
||||
|
||||
Another moment of silence. The academic permitted some of the drunkenness from the evening to drift away, allowing him to think more clearly. May Then My Name relaxed further against eir side, and ey suspected she was not far away from sleep. Tomorrow, the work would begin in earnest, so ey was tempted to let her sleep, but a question nagged at him.
|
||||
|
||||
``May?''
|
||||
|
||||
``I like it when you call me that.''
|
||||
|
||||
``It's a good name.'' Ioan grinned. ``I had a question, though. How much do you remember from back then?''
|
||||
|
||||
She sat bolt upright, wrenching at eir shoulder. ``What did you say? Sorry.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey reclaimed eir arm, rubbing at the shoulder. ``It's okay. How much do you remember from the start of the System?''
|
||||
|
||||
``You, my dear, are a fucking genius.'' She was on her feet now, pacing back and forth in front of the bench swing. She paused mid-pace to lean down and bump her nose against Ioan's forehead; her form of a kiss. ``Fucking genius.''
|
||||
|
||||
Given that she appeared to have sobered up, Ioan allowed emself to do the same. ``What do you mean?'' ey asked.
|
||||
|
||||
``I want to modify the project scope. Can I tell you a secret?'' She was talking quickly now.
|
||||
|
||||
``Yes, of course.''
|
||||
|
||||
``I want to modify the project and add in an early history of the system, of Secession. Do you think you would be up for adding that in?''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan frowned. ``If can I fork for it, I suppose.''
|
||||
|
||||
May Then My Name laughed. ``You are talking to an Odist, of course you can fucking fork.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Alright, alright. Then what's your secret?''
|
||||
|
||||
``I want to write an early history of the system to parallel the current. They are very similar, you know, but it has been two hundred years. We are well past history, and doubtless there are histories already written. Yes, I remember. Of course I do. I remember the secession, I remember uploading, I remember getting lost, I remember everything. The all the great and terrible things that we did. We could write a history, but that is all already there. There are paper trails and journals and everything phys-side already knows about us, but--''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan's eyes went wide as ey picked up on her idea. ``You want to write a mythology.''
|
||||
|
||||
She clapped and bounced excitedly on her feet. ``Yes! Yes, a mythology. I know I have mentioned them before, and we had talked about incorporating that aspect with Dear and Codrin. The history is important, and perhaps we can write that too, but now is not the time for only history. Now is the time for--''
|
||||
|
||||
``Stories.''
|
||||
|
||||
In a decidedly Dear-like move, the skunk forked several times over, crowding the balcony before the bench swing with copies of herself, all of which had the same expression of glee. They quit quickly, and May Then My Name leaned forward to give Ioan a handful more of those nose-dot kisses. ``You get it!''
|
||||
|
||||
``I worked with Dear, you nut. Of course I get stories.'' Ey laughed and reached up to grab her around the waist and haul her back onto the swing beside em.
|
||||
|
||||
How different she was than Dear! Individuation is born in the decades and centuries. Ey would never have thought to be so physical with the fox, but as she laughed and slumped back against eir side, ey realized ey had long since fallen into the habit of physicality, of touch. Of, ey realized, feeling.
|
||||
204
toledot/content/launch/sys/Ioan/003.tex
Normal file
204
toledot/content/launch/sys/Ioan/003.tex
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,204 @@
|
||||
\hypertarget{ioan-bux103lan—2325}{%
|
||||
\chapter{Ioan Bălan — 2325}\label{ioan-bux103lan—2325}}
|
||||
|
||||
There was a rhythm to research, Ioan had found. The ideas and information did not always flow smoothly; sometimes, ey would go days without breaking through the current blockage, or perhaps ey would rush forward in leaps and bounds, the periods of sleep and waking growing longer and longer until ey was out of sync with the world around em.
|
||||
|
||||
But despite these peaks and troughs, there was a rhythm. Ey would find a pace at which the project would bloom, fits and starts or a smooth progression, and would slowly be able to predict the ways in which it would move.
|
||||
|
||||
There had been work before the launch, but the way in which it shifted after Dear's Death Day had knocked Ioan into enough of a different mindset that this felt like a new project. Ey supposed that, in part, it had to do with the sudden cessation of sensorium messages from Dear. That the fox was now restricted to text only must've been a shock to its system, and when eir thoughts would drift away from the task at hand of collating histories, ey would picture it sitting at a desk scribbling away, frustration on its features and agitation in its tail.
|
||||
|
||||
\emph{Then again,} ey thought. \emph{It still has plenty of company to pester up there.}
|
||||
|
||||
``Woolgathering?''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey snapped back to attention and smiled sheepishly at May Then My Name where she had parked herself on the other side of the room. ``Yeah, I guess. I get in the zone and then an idea gets away from me and I forget to keep working.''
|
||||
|
||||
She nodded. ``Well, come here, then. Let us plan instead of read or write or whatever it is you are doing over there.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Woolgathering, apparently,'' ey mumbled, but gathered up a notebook and a pen to go plop down next to the skunk all the same.
|
||||
|
||||
When May had moved in with Ioan the year before the launch, she had quickly requested several changes to the house. A desk for her to work at as well as a private room---a cube with all grey walls---in which to do whatever it was that she did when composing her mythos. She had also requested a few items that would work with her physiology. A stool for the desk that would let her tail drape down and curl around her feet, that sort of thing
|
||||
|
||||
She had declined, however, another room or bed, which had initially staggered em.
|
||||
|
||||
``Are you going back home to sleep?'' ey had asked. ``I thought you were moving in here.''
|
||||
|
||||
She had laughed and poked em in the stomach with a finger. ``You have a bed, Ioan, yes? It fits two, yes? If not, just make it fit two.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey had formed few attachments over the years, and certainly none which included sleeping in the same bed as someone. Eir confusion must have shown on eir face, as May had rolled her eyes and laughed.
|
||||
|
||||
``I do not mean anything untoward by it,'' she had said.
|
||||
|
||||
Ey had struggled to speak with a mouth suddenly dry. ``If you say so. I just haven't slept in the same bed with someone\ldots uh, ever, I guess.''
|
||||
|
||||
Her eyes had widened and she tilted her head. ``Really? Never?''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey had shook eir head.
|
||||
|
||||
``Well, I would still prefer to share your bed with you, it is just the way I work. I do not sleep well alone. But if you feel uncomfortable, I will be fine with another bed like yours.''
|
||||
|
||||
So now ey slept beside a skunk.
|
||||
|
||||
She had also requested a few beanbags that she could curl on, more comfortable than a couch for one with an outsized tail. Each of these was larger than Ioan had felt was strictly necessary, and it had required that ey expand the bounds of the rooms to fit them, but ey had quickly gotten used to them, as ey could stretch out on them just as well as May. They were a little too amorphous to sleep on, but still plenty comfortable.
|
||||
|
||||
Ey sunk into a slouch on one next to the skunk, feeling the way it molded around em. Ey knew well enough by now to lift up the arm on the side where the skunk was curled, and she predictably scootched up by eir side to rest her head against eir chest at the shoulder, arm around eir middle. Ey let eir arm drop again, curling it around her shoulders.
|
||||
|
||||
``Alright, planning,'' ey said, reaching eir free right arm down beside the beanbag for the lap desk which had proved so useful for times such as these. ``What should we plan?''
|
||||
|
||||
``How about your forks?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Right, yes. Do you think I should have one for both Castor and Pollux? And I'll probably need one for history, judging by what you've told me already.''
|
||||
|
||||
She nodded, the fur of an ear-tip tickling at eir neck. ``Start with one each. You can always cut down from there if it is unnecessary, or use them only as needed. If that first message from Codrin on Castor is anything to go by, better safe than sorry. Monsters and cults! It is all very like Dear. I bet it put Codrin up to it, what with me doing the myth bits.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Ey's been infected by Dear's weirdness.''
|
||||
|
||||
``It is an Odist thing. You will catch it, too, from me.'' She laughed.
|
||||
|
||||
``I don't doubt I will. I'm thinking the triad on Pollux fell asleep instead. They're already diverging.'' Ey started a diagram on the page. ``So that's three. Would it be four Ioans Bălan total, then, with me to collate the information?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Probably for the best, yes.''
|
||||
|
||||
``This down-tree instance to collate, two for the LVs, one for early System history--''
|
||||
|
||||
``I will fork for that as well.''
|
||||
|
||||
``More Mays?'' Ioan laughed.
|
||||
|
||||
She poked the tip of her tongue out of her muzzle. ``Are you complaining?''
|
||||
|
||||
``No, no, I'm sure it'll be fine. That's three forks. A fourth as needed for interviews for those who stayed behind.'' Ey tapped eir pen against eir lower lip. ``How often should we merge?''
|
||||
|
||||
``I would suggest once a day to start with, perhaps an hour before you---your \#Tracker instance---plan on stopping work for the day. You can use that hour to do your collating. You are less used to frivolous forking than the Odists, and much as I might enjoy multiple Ioans to canoodle with, I would prefer that you not get overwhelmed.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey laughed and shook eir head, jotting down notes on the paper as ey talked. ``You're probably right. Besides, I'd have to make the house even bigger to have enough bedrooms.''
|
||||
|
||||
She tightened her arm around eir middle and shrugged. ``Or the bed, but there will be only one of you. I may keep a fork or two around working on other tasks, but they can shift schedules if you would prefer not to have multiple mes crowding in on you at night.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan brushed the fingers on eir left hand through the soft fur on the skunk's arm. ``I'd prefer that, if that's okay. I'm only just getting used to sleeping next to one you.''
|
||||
|
||||
Tilting her muzzle up, she dotted her nose against the underside of eir chin. ``For which I am grateful! I struggle to be around people without being close to them. Thank you for indulging me.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Of course,'' ey mumbled, feeling the skunk's snout lingering beneath eir chin. ``It's just new to me. Unexpected.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Why?''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan frowned and set the lap desk and notes aside, opting instead to brush eir fingers along her arm. This conversation had slid off course, and ey knew that it was hopeless to get it back. Once May began to talk about feelings, all was lost. It was evening, anyhow, and a good time to set work aside.
|
||||
|
||||
``I suppose it just never occurred to me,'' ey said. ``Forming attachments that would lead to something like\ldots whatever this is has never really been a need of mine, so it just never happened.''
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk nodded against eir chest, and ey could sense a frown on her muzzle. ``That is so counter to the way I function that I cannot even picture it. I am a being of attachments. I think we all are, just to greater or lesser extent.''
|
||||
|
||||
``I guess. I'm not a total recluse. I like interacting with others.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Just not beyond a certain point.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey hesitated, then said, ``It'd probably be more accurate to say that it's never happened before. I enjoy it now, it just didn't even really cross my mind until recently.''
|
||||
|
||||
``When you had someone addicted to close attachments move in with you?''
|
||||
|
||||
``A bit before, perhaps, probably when working on \emph{On the Perils of Memory}, what with all that went into that Qoheleth business, though I couldn't put my finger on it at the time. That's where Codrin came from, after all.''
|
||||
|
||||
May slipped her arm from beneath eir hand so that she could lace her fingers with eirs. ``That makes sense. Do you understand it better now?''
|
||||
|
||||
``A bit, though I suspect I have a long ways to go yet,'' ey said, squeezing her fingers between eir own. ``Why are we talking about this, by the way?''
|
||||
|
||||
She laughed. ``We are part of this story, too.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Does that mean we're going to figure in your mythology, too?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Oh, of course! The archivist of tales and eir lover, the painter of myths!''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan laughed. ``Lover? Really?''
|
||||
|
||||
``It makes for good reading,'' she said, poking her nose up at eir chin again. ``Though I would not turn it down.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan tensed. Ey could feel eir cheeks burning. ``Uh\ldots there's another conversation I've never had to have before.''
|
||||
|
||||
``We will have it another time,'' the skunk murmured. ``Your heart is racing and making my pillow uncomfortable.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey forced a laugh. ``What is it with you Odists? Are you all this good at turning everything on its head? Dear and Codrin, and now--''
|
||||
|
||||
``You and me?'' May giggled.
|
||||
|
||||
``I was going to say, ``And now you're pushing me in weird directions.'' I wasn't expecting Codrin to find emself in a triad, if I'm honest.''
|
||||
|
||||
``You, my dear, lack a certain self-awareness for someone who spends all eir time up in eir head.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Thanks, I think.'' Ioan shifted to the side enough to look down at the skunk. ``How do you mean, though?''
|
||||
|
||||
She laughed and licked em on eir chin. It was an odd sensation. ``It is not surprising at all, knowing Dear. For as inventive and high-minded it is, it has a pattern of conforming itself to a situation such that those around it \emph{want} to get close to it, and it does so in such a way that they think they want to be close of their own volition. It tailors its charisma to fit.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Are you saying it's manipulative?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Oh, no. Not really, at least. I do not think it knows that it is doing that. It also lacks that self-awareness. It is more like\ldots{}'' She trailed off, searching for the words. ``It is like it knows what feels good but not why, so it has developed mechanisms to ensure that those good things happen more frequently.''
|
||||
|
||||
``More like a self-reinforcing behavior, I guess?''
|
||||
|
||||
She nodded.
|
||||
|
||||
``I suppose that makes sense, then.'' A silence fell during which Ioan thought about what self-reinforcing social behaviors ey had. ``I like to work. It's a really fulfilling feeling. So I work. I try hard to do a good job, and when I do, it leads to more work. I developed a way to keep myself interested.''
|
||||
|
||||
``A coping mechanism for the terminally immortal.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan laughed. ``\,`Terminally immortal'? How does that even work?''
|
||||
|
||||
``I do not know. You are the word nerd, here.''
|
||||
|
||||
``The archivist of tales, you mean.''
|
||||
|
||||
She laughed. ``Of course. And eir pet mythologist.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Oh, now it's `pet'?''
|
||||
|
||||
``I am still trying on labels. I am the one who has to write that sort of stuff, after all.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey lay back against the beanbag and May made herself comfortable against em once more.
|
||||
|
||||
More woolgathering. That's what the evening called for, more than work. More woolgathering for the both of them.
|
||||
|
||||
Lovers? Ey let a tape run forward in eir mind. Ey watched the friendship ey had formed with May progress into some form of romantic relationship. How would it start? Would it start with em making a formal decision to let that happen? Or would it happen by accident? Would ey some day wake up and realize, \emph{Holy shit, I think we're dating. Are we dating? I think we are.}
|
||||
|
||||
And ey set a different tape to playing. A tape wherein ey set firmer boundaries, prohibited the friendship from progressing further than it already had. Or, worse---strange to already be placing value judgements!---a world in which ey pushed the skunk away, backed off from the physical affection, from the talk that bordered on flirty, from even the hypocorism `May'. If ey let that tape play beyond that point, ey knew ey would find all of the ways in which that would hurt May and how, knowing her, seeing her express that pain would hurt em in turn.
|
||||
|
||||
\emph{How do they do this?} ey thought. \emph{How do the Odists just worm their way into your life and make themselves comfortable, letting you think it was your idea? That's what she'd said, and now I'm in exactly the same position as Codrin twenty years ago.}
|
||||
|
||||
``It is not intentional, Ioan, I promise. Not wholly.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey jolted, blinking rapidly as her words registered. ``Wait, what? What isn't?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Getting close. Wearing down your inhibitions. What we were talking about before.''
|
||||
|
||||
``You reading my mind?''
|
||||
|
||||
She shook her head and ey could hear the smile in her voice. ``You mumble when you think really hard.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Shit, right. Sorry. I trust you on that. I'm not upset or anything, I like, uh\ldots this, and don't have any plans from rolling that back. You mentioned a pattern, though, and got me thinking about it.''
|
||||
|
||||
``This is what I like about you, Ioan. What the whole clade likes about you, if history is anything to go by. You spend enough time up in your head that you start thinking about what you are thinking about and putting words to what you are feeling. You get surprised, and then you think about your surprise and break it down to make meaning of it. What you lack in self-awareness you make up in easy self-analysis.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Feels like overanalysis, sometimes.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Mm, probably is, and sometimes I wish you would come back down out of your head to be present. But it is the same as we are prone to overdoing whatever it is that we are specialists in. Dear goes hard on instance art, I go hard on feeling.''
|
||||
|
||||
``What are you feeling about\ldots{}'' Ey forced himself to push away encroaching work-thoughts. Ey had been about to say \emph{about this whole venture}, but instead went with, ``About this?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Now?'' She squeezed eir fingers in her own before disentangling them to tap at eir nose. ``I am feeling comfortable with you, and I am feeling happy about that. I am feeling like asking you to cook something because I am starving or asking you if you'd like to go to bed because I am tired or asking you to get back to work so that I can do the same.''
|
||||
|
||||
``That's a lot of feelings at once,'' ey said, grinning.
|
||||
|
||||
``Like I said, we overdo it.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Well,'' ey said, focusing enough to fork off two more Ioans, which ey tagged \#Castor and \#Pollux.
|
||||
|
||||
``I'll finish up work,'' \#Castor said.
|
||||
|
||||
``And I'll cook dinner,'' \#Pollux said.
|
||||
|
||||
``And we can head to bed after we eat.''
|
||||
|
||||
May's laugh was bright as she clapped her paws. ``Well played.'' She slid off the beanbag and stood. She forked another May to go help \#Pollux cook before stretching and offering a paw to Ioan to help em stand.
|
||||
|
||||
``What?'' Ey took the paw and let her help lever em out of the beanbag. She kept the grip on eir hand after. ``Bed now? Instead of eating?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Excuse me. We are adults in this house, Mx. Ioan Bălan, and adults eat at the fucking table and not on a pouf.''
|
||||
231
toledot/content/launch/sys/Ioan/004-illust.tex
Normal file
231
toledot/content/launch/sys/Ioan/004-illust.tex
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,231 @@
|
||||
\hypertarget{ioan-bux103lan-2325}{%
|
||||
\chapter{Ioan Bălan — 2325}\label{ioan-bux103lan-2325}}
|
||||
|
||||
May Then My Name Die With Me sat across from Ioan at their dining table, looking somewhat diminished.
|
||||
|
||||
``Are you comfortable with this?'' Ioan asked.
|
||||
|
||||
``This feels unusually formal.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Yes, well, I'd like to be able to see your expressions.'' Ey grinned. ``Also, it's easier to write when I don't have a skunk hanging onto my arm.''
|
||||
|
||||
She rolled her eyes, sighing dramatically. ``I suppose. Ask away then, O archivist.''
|
||||
|
||||
``I'm not--''
|
||||
|
||||
``I know, I know. Not an archivist. Grant me this whimsy.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Alright.'' Ey tested the nib of eir pen on the corner of the page and then began to jot in eir comfortable shorthand. ``Uncomfortable question first. When did you upload?''
|
||||
|
||||
May frowned down to the table, drawing lazy Lissajous curves on its surface. ``I would have gone for the shit-sandwich approach. Do you promise to ask lighter questions after?''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan laughed, nodded.
|
||||
|
||||
``Alright. Michelle uploaded in 2117. I know that Dear mentioned to you that she uploaded in the 2130s after Secession. This is a small lie it told to downplay our role in helping the System become what it is today. Michelle uploaded, burned through what energy she had on early projects, and then forked\pagebreak\ to let her clade take her place, opting for an early retirement, herself.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Do you mean her work on sensoria?''
|
||||
|
||||
``That, and several other projects.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Such as?''
|
||||
|
||||
``You will doubtless learn, Ioan, but not from me. It is not my story to tell.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey lifted eir pen from the page. ``Can you tell me why? I can leave it out of the notes if you'd like.''
|
||||
|
||||
``You may include this. I have distanced myself from much of that time out of shame. You know as well as I do that I cannot forget it, but I can at least think about it as little as possible.'' She smiled, abashed, then the smile grew sly. ``I will not tell you who to ask about it, either. I have confidence that you will find out on your own, and I am curious to see how quickly.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey laughed. ``Alright, if you won't talk about that, that's okay. It's enough that you mention it; I'll keep my eye out.''
|
||||
|
||||
She reached out and took eir off-hand in her own, brushing thumbpad over eir knuckles. ``Thank you, dear. Do you have a more pleasant question for me to answer?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Of course. Why did you stay behind.''
|
||||
|
||||
At this, the skunk brightened considerably. ``This is what I was expecting. I have a response prepared and everything.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Dear always mentioned that it scripted its conversations, as well. Is that an Odist thing?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Perhaps! I do not doubt it, from that fox. It is always so dramatic.'' She retrieved her paw to fold it with the other before her. ``Right. I remained behind because it tickled me to do so. Could I have invested in the Launch? Of course. However, it occurred to me early on, soon after you and I agreed to work on this project together, that acting as a fulcrum between the two LVs would not just keep my instance from infecting the responses that I received, but would allow me to play them against each other.
|
||||
|
||||
``Besides,'' she added, stabbing her pinky toward em, ``there is no Ioan on the Launches, and I am busy wrapping you around my little finger.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey laughed. ``Well, keep up the good work, then.''
|
||||
|
||||
``I could just as easily turn this question around on you, Mx. Ioan Bălan. Why did you not invest yourself in the Launch? We do not yet know Codrin's reasons, but why remain, yourself?''
|
||||
|
||||
``I'm not sure, honestly. I think what you say about not influencing the responses that we get fits me, too. I don't want Ioan's thoughts, I want those of the LVs unfiltered through my transmissions.''
|
||||
|
||||
``But Codrin--''
|
||||
|
||||
``Has diverged significantly in the last two decades. I have no concerns about contamination. Ey is not me any longer.''
|
||||
|
||||
She nodded approvingly. ``Good. There may be hope for you yet.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Wrapping me around your little finger, indeed.'' Ey finished eir current line of scratchy notes. ``You say that it tickled you to remain behind. Can you talk more about that?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Of course. Many of the clade---many of the liberal side, at least---enjoy using our functional immortality as a plaything. If we are to live forever, then, it is worthwhile to find as many things to keep it interesting as we can along the way. It is interesting to me that I have acted in a very intentional way such that I will not get to experience our three societies begin to diverge that directly. There is no going back to change that, because there is no going and there is no back. It is already fun to see the differences between Castor and Pollux through the eyes of both Codrins, and to realize that the L\textsubscript{5} System contains neither, and then realize in a flash of insight that there is no May Then My Name Die With Me to witness directly. Do you experience the same?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Maybe a little bit,'' Ioan hedged. ``But if what you tell me is true, I'm not nearly old enough yet to be so concerned in finding fun in the little nooks and crannies of experience.''
|
||||
|
||||
``You are no fun,'' she whined. ``But I see your point. You also do not have the decades of split mind from before the beginning of the clade. You do not have the strange avenues of thought that preceded our creation. The Ioan of the 2230s or whenever it was that you uploaded had a baseline sanity that Michelle lacked.''
|
||||
|
||||
``You don't seem insane.''
|
||||
|
||||
She forked a version of herself atop the table lacking all human attributes that hissed at Ioan with foaming mouth. Ey startled back, and she laughed as the creature quit. ``Do I not?''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey shook eir head. ``Weird, perhaps, but your thoughts and actions are consistent with each other. You're an internally consistent individual.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Yes, well, Michelle was not. She was a being of irreconcilable contradictions, and we are lucky that she did not pass that on to us when we came into existence.''
|
||||
|
||||
``If she hadn't quit as she did, do you think that she would've remained on the System, invested entirely in the launches, or split between the two?''
|
||||
|
||||
May's features fell and she averted her eyes. ``She could not do but what she did. You were not there at the end.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Feel free to not answer, but can you tell me about that?''
|
||||
|
||||
``I will only say that she was ready, that, whether or not she had been planning that day from the very beginning, that was precisely the time that she was meant to die.''
|
||||
|
||||
``\,`Die'? Not quit?''
|
||||
|
||||
``In her mind, I think that it was death, yes. She quoted her---our---favorite line of poetry at us, and the death thoughts proceeded apace. We are no longer branches of a unified whole, but trees of our own.'' There was a long pause before she added, ``I think that had been true perhaps from shortly after Secession, and that she was already dead, in her own way. Reality just caught up with her.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey nodded. Something in the skunk's expression told em that the topic was closed, that while she might answer another question, she would resent it. Instead, ey let a moment of quiet fall between them, a silent acknowledgement of that ending.
|
||||
|
||||
``You have another question. I can see it on your face.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Perceptive, as always. Whenever you talk with Douglas, your cousin however many times removed, you always evade his questions about your name, and have yet to tell him about your origins, though I know that that would mean a lot to him. Why?''
|
||||
|
||||
Her laugh was musical and expression almost giddy. ``We already talked about having fun, my dear.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Well, yes, but that was fun involving yourself. What's the origin of this fun involving someone else?''
|
||||
|
||||
``I have fun with you, you know that.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan smirked, but waited for her to continue.
|
||||
|
||||
``Alright, have it your way. First of all, I am not Michelle, though I am of her. All the same, I am doing my best to build up the suspense with him. I know that it would mean a lot for him if I were to simply drop the bomb on him now---though I realize, having said that, that that is perhaps a poor choice of words, given his admitted fear. But how much more an impact it will have if I build it up like this! I cannot wait to see what emotions play across his face.''
|
||||
|
||||
``\,`See'? You intend to wait until he uploads?''
|
||||
|
||||
``And why should I not? I know that he will.''
|
||||
|
||||
``He always talks about it as a potential thing, though.''
|
||||
|
||||
She grinned and shook her head. ``He will. He has already made up his mind, he just does not realize it yet.''
|
||||
|
||||
``How will you tell him, then?''
|
||||
|
||||
``I will continue to drop hints for another few months, and when he does---I think he will do it within the year---I will bring him home. There, we will talk, and you will observe as, over the course of a few minutes, I reveal the truth.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan straightened up. ``Me?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Of course. Can you think of a better myth? Can you think of a better story in history than of the man who brought the launches to fruition learning that he is talking to an instance of the very woman who helped bring Secession to fruition, the one who he has desired above all things to meet, who he thinks dead?''
|
||||
|
||||
``A little grandiose, don't you think?''
|
||||
|
||||
She stuck her tongue out at em, a strangely cute gesture on her features. ``Is that not a requirement of myths? A myth that is not grandiose is just a story.''
|
||||
|
||||
``You Odists do seem prone to grand gestures.''
|
||||
|
||||
May preened.
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan set down eir pen and folded eir hands on the table. ``Tell me a story, then.''
|
||||
|
||||
``One for the history? One for you?''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey shrugged.
|
||||
|
||||
She thought for a moment, once more drawing designs on the table with a claw.
|
||||
|
||||
``Alright,'' she said, standing up. ``Come with me, my dear.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan stood to follow her as she padded from the common room to the balcony, then down the steps from there to the yard, a rectangle of grass hemmed in by a moat of mulch, a fence of lilac bushes making up the border. They were technically the end of eir sim, though between the leaves and trunks of the bushes, one would occasionally catch a glimpse of another yard, another house, a street beyond.
|
||||
|
||||
``Look,'' she said.
|
||||
|
||||
Ey looked at the yard, at the lilacs, even the patio and the sky.
|
||||
|
||||
``What do you see?''
|
||||
|
||||
``My yard. What am I supposed to see?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Look at the grass. What do you see?''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey focused on the green carpet of grass, then frowned as ey began to notice the two or three yellow flowers spotting the yard just barely visible. They sat only a few millimeters below the tops of the trimmed grass. ``What are those?''
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk grinned at em toothily.
|
||||
|
||||
``May, what did you do?''
|
||||
|
||||
``I talked you into a small addition. That is what I did.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey knit eir brow. ``Talked me into\ldots how do you mean?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Do not worry, Ioan, you are the only one who has ACLs over your property. I do not. I just made a few suggestions, mostly when you were asleep---or at least very sleepy---or head-in-the-clouds at work.''
|
||||
|
||||
``You're saying I made these?'' ey asked, stepping out into the grass and bending down to inspect the flower, yellow, a myriad of petals, grand-toothed leaves radiating from the base.
|
||||
|
||||
``I am saying that \emph{we} made these.'' She bent down beside em and plucked the flower from near the ground, lifting it with a dream-clouded smile. ``I am saying that you trust me---\emph{really} trust me---and that life in the System is more subtle than I think you know. You trust me. You let me into your life as a coworker, then cohabitant and cosleeper. You let me into your dreams, my dear, and your dreams influence this place as much as, if not more than, your waking mind.''
|
||||
|
||||
That waking mind was now whirling with the ramifications of what she was saying. ``I did this on your suggestion?''
|
||||
|
||||
She shook her head. ``If you would like to think of it that way, yes, but I would prefer to say that we did this.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Is this your story?''
|
||||
|
||||
``No.~Sit down by me.''
|
||||
|
||||
They knelt before this brand new plant in the yard, both looking at the yellow flower May turned this way and that in her paw.
|
||||
|
||||
``This is a dandelion. It--''
|
||||
|
||||
A memory clicked into place for Ioan and ey laughed. ``Oh! Of course! I've been here too long, haven't I? Here in the System, here in the house with its perfect yard. Almost ninety years now, I think. They were all over back phys-side, though.''
|
||||
|
||||
May nodded and beckoned for em to continue.
|
||||
|
||||
``We didn't have a yard where I grew up. Just an apartment block facing the street, a strip of weeds between the building and sidewalk, and then between the sidewalk and road. At one time, I think that strip had contained grass and trees, but now it just contained a narrow path full of thistles and dandelions.
|
||||
|
||||
``I only ever saw lawns in movies or on the 'net. The world wasn't as bad back then as Douglas makes it sound now, but still, we weren't wealthy, and it was hard enough to ensure a steady supply of clean water for the residents, never mind grass like this. We were certainly not wealthy enough for that.'' Ey laughed. ``Well, we were dirt poor, actually. Most of the weeds were green, leafy things with fuzzy green flowers that would turn into bundles of seeds, or spiky thistles with purple bulbs of flowers, but there were a few dandelions scattered about.''
|
||||
|
||||
``No lilacs?''
|
||||
|
||||
``More stuff from media. I remember wishing I could grow some indoors because I thought they were small enough to be houseplants until I was corrected. I have no idea if these are accurate, but I remember loving the smell.''
|
||||
|
||||
``They are spot on, Ioan.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey smiled.
|
||||
|
||||
``So you uploaded and made your sim like this?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Yeah. Sort of. It was inspired by some sim I frequented on the 'net, something a friend built. I found something close to it on the market, and when I had reputation enough, I dug the sim and grabbed that template, then spent a year rebuilding it as best I could remember. No dandelions.''
|
||||
|
||||
She laughed, bumping her shoulder against eirs. ``Of course. They are a weed, yes. Or often thought of as one. The leaves make a good salad, though, and I was told that you could dry, roast, and grind the roots to make a coffee substitute.''
|
||||
|
||||
\AddToHookNext{shipout/after}{\includepdf[pages={1},noautoscale=true,fitpaper=true]{assets/ioanmay}}
|
||||
Ioan made a face. ``I'd rather coffee.''
|
||||
|
||||
``I have no idea if the substitute was any good, but I like coffee, too.'' She held the flower up to her snout and smelled long at it. ``Me, though, I like the flowers. They are too complicated for their own good in this stage, are they not? Sure, they close up and then become the puffballs that spread them further and further, but here, they are almost platters of yellow.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey grinned as she held the flower in both paws like a tray carrying food.
|
||||
|
||||
``But that is not what I like about them. I am telling you, now that you are awake, the things that I whispered to you to bring about this story. The things I suggested, as you put it. What I love is their scent.'' She held it up for em to sniff. ``They smell like muffins. How can anything that smells like muffins be bad? ''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey breathed deep of that scent. There was, indeed, the note of some baked sweet bread, but that was layered atop a vegetal scent. It was not unpleasant, but not precisely like a muffin. Ey decided not to share this opinion with May.
|
||||
|
||||
Instead, ey asked, ``Is that your story, May?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Of course not. You told the story yourself. Young Ioan with eir indoor lilacs.'' She laughed, peeking up at em slyly. ``Or perhaps we told the story. You asked, so I suggested, as you say, and you told the story.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan frowned, then rolled eir eyes. ``That's not what I asked, and you know it.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Tough shit. It is our story now,'' she said. ``Now, give me your hand.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey held eir hand out for her, then let her turn it over in her paws. Before ey could object, she flipped the flower over, pressed it firmly to eir skin, and rubbed it in a vigorous circle.
|
||||
|
||||
``There.'' She held eir hand up so that ey could see, looking proud.
|
||||
|
||||
On the back of eir hand, the skin shone a golden yellow in the circle where she had rubbed the flower.
|
||||
|
||||
Ey shoved her over onto the grass, laughing. ``You nut.''
|
||||
|
||||
She lay there among the grass, giggling helplessly. Among the grass where a brand new dandelion poked through the green in front of her snout. One that had not been there before.
|
||||
230
toledot/content/launch/sys/Ioan/004.tex
Normal file
230
toledot/content/launch/sys/Ioan/004.tex
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,230 @@
|
||||
\hypertarget{ioan-bux103lan-2325}{%
|
||||
\chapter{Ioan Bălan — 2325}\label{ioan-bux103lan-2325}}
|
||||
|
||||
May Then My Name Die With Me sat across from Ioan at their dining table, looking somewhat diminished.
|
||||
|
||||
``Are you comfortable with this?'' Ioan asked.
|
||||
|
||||
``This feels unusually formal.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Yes, well, I'd like to be able to see your expressions.'' Ey grinned. ``Also, it's easier to write when I don't have a skunk hanging onto my arm.''
|
||||
|
||||
She rolled her eyes, sighing dramatically. ``I suppose. Ask away then, O archivist.''
|
||||
|
||||
``I'm not--''
|
||||
|
||||
``I know, I know. Not an archivist. Grant me this whimsy.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Alright.'' Ey tested the nib of eir pen on the corner of the page and then began to jot in eir comfortable shorthand. ``Uncomfortable question first. When did you upload?''
|
||||
|
||||
May frowned down to the table, drawing lazy Lissajous curves on its surface. ``I would have gone for the shit-sandwich approach. Do you promise to ask lighter questions after?''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan laughed, nodded.
|
||||
|
||||
``Alright. Michelle uploaded in 2117. I know that Dear mentioned to you that she uploaded in the 2130s after Secession. This is a small lie it told to downplay our role in helping the System become what it is today. Michelle uploaded, burned through what energy she had on early projects, and then forked\pagebreak\ to let her clade take her place, opting for an early retirement, herself.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Do you mean her work on sensoria?''
|
||||
|
||||
``That, and several other projects.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Such as?''
|
||||
|
||||
``You will doubtless learn, Ioan, but not from me. It is not my story to tell.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey lifted eir pen from the page. ``Can you tell me why? I can leave it out of the notes if you'd like.''
|
||||
|
||||
``You may include this. I have distanced myself from much of that time out of shame. You know as well as I do that I cannot forget it, but I can at least think about it as little as possible.'' She smiled, abashed, then the smile grew sly. ``I will not tell you who to ask about it, either. I have confidence that you will find out on your own, and I am curious to see how quickly.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey laughed. ``Alright, if you won't talk about that, that's okay. It's enough that you mention it; I'll keep my eye out.''
|
||||
|
||||
She reached out and took eir off-hand in her own, brushing thumbpad over eir knuckles. ``Thank you, dear. Do you have a more pleasant question for me to answer?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Of course. Why did you stay behind.''
|
||||
|
||||
At this, the skunk brightened considerably. ``This is what I was expecting. I have a response prepared and everything.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Dear always mentioned that it scripted its conversations, as well. Is that an Odist thing?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Perhaps! I do not doubt it, from that fox. It is always so dramatic.'' She retrieved her paw to fold it with the other before her. ``Right. I remained behind because it tickled me to do so. Could I have invested in the Launch? Of course. However, it occurred to me early on, soon after you and I agreed to work on this project together, that acting as a fulcrum between the two LVs would not just keep my instance from infecting the responses that I received, but would allow me to play them against each other.
|
||||
|
||||
``Besides,'' she added, stabbing her pinky toward em, ``there is no Ioan on the Launches, and I am busy wrapping you around my little finger.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey laughed. ``Well, keep up the good work, then.''
|
||||
|
||||
``I could just as easily turn this question around on you, Mx. Ioan Bălan. Why did you not invest yourself in the Launch? We do not yet know Codrin's reasons, but why remain, yourself?''
|
||||
|
||||
``I'm not sure, honestly. I think what you say about not influencing the responses that we get fits me, too. I don't want Ioan's thoughts, I want those of the LVs unfiltered through my transmissions.''
|
||||
|
||||
``But Codrin--''
|
||||
|
||||
``Has diverged significantly in the last two decades. I have no concerns about contamination. Ey is not me any longer.''
|
||||
|
||||
She nodded approvingly. ``Good. There may be hope for you yet.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Wrapping me around your little finger, indeed.'' Ey finished eir current line of scratchy notes. ``You say that it tickled you to remain behind. Can you talk more about that?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Of course. Many of the clade---many of the liberal side, at least---enjoy using our functional immortality as a plaything. If we are to live forever, then, it is worthwhile to find as many things to keep it interesting as we can along the way. It is interesting to me that I have acted in a very intentional way such that I will not get to experience our three societies begin to diverge that directly. There is no going back to change that, because there is no going and there is no back. It is already fun to see the differences between Castor and Pollux through the eyes of both Codrins, and to realize that the L\textsubscript{5} System contains neither, and then realize in a flash of insight that there is no May Then My Name Die With Me to witness directly. Do you experience the same?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Maybe a little bit,'' Ioan hedged. ``But if what you tell me is true, I'm not nearly old enough yet to be so concerned in finding fun in the little nooks and crannies of experience.''
|
||||
|
||||
``You are no fun,'' she whined. ``But I see your point. You also do not have the decades of split mind from before the beginning of the clade. You do not have the strange avenues of thought that preceded our creation. The Ioan of the 2230s or whenever it was that you uploaded had a baseline sanity that Michelle lacked.''
|
||||
|
||||
``You don't seem insane.''
|
||||
|
||||
She forked a version of herself atop the table lacking all human attributes that hissed at Ioan with foaming mouth. Ey startled back, and she laughed as the creature quit. ``Do I not?''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey shook eir head. ``Weird, perhaps, but your thoughts and actions are consistent with each other. You're an internally consistent individual.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Yes, well, Michelle was not. She was a being of irreconcilable contradictions, and we are lucky that she did not pass that on to us when we came into existence.''
|
||||
|
||||
``If she hadn't quit as she did, do you think that she would've remained on the System, invested entirely in the launches, or split between the two?''
|
||||
|
||||
May's features fell and she averted her eyes. ``She could not do but what she did. You were not there at the end.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Feel free to not answer, but can you tell me about that?''
|
||||
|
||||
``I will only say that she was ready, that, whether or not she had been planning that day from the very beginning, that was precisely the time that she was meant to die.''
|
||||
|
||||
``\,`Die'? Not quit?''
|
||||
|
||||
``In her mind, I think that it was death, yes. She quoted her---our---favorite line of poetry at us, and the death thoughts proceeded apace. We are no longer branches of a unified whole, but trees of our own.'' There was a long pause before she added, ``I think that had been true perhaps from shortly after Secession, and that she was already dead, in her own way. Reality just caught up with her.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey nodded. Something in the skunk's expression told em that the topic was closed, that while she might answer another question, she would resent it. Instead, ey let a moment of quiet fall between them, a silent acknowledgement of that ending.
|
||||
|
||||
``You have another question. I can see it on your face.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Perceptive, as always. Whenever you talk with Douglas, your cousin however many times removed, you always evade his questions about your name, and have yet to tell him about your origins, though I know that that would mean a lot to him. Why?''
|
||||
|
||||
Her laugh was musical and expression almost giddy. ``We already talked about having fun, my dear.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Well, yes, but that was fun involving yourself. What's the origin of this fun involving someone else?''
|
||||
|
||||
``I have fun with you, you know that.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan smirked, but waited for her to continue.
|
||||
|
||||
``Alright, have it your way. First of all, I am not Michelle, though I am of her. All the same, I am doing my best to build up the suspense with him. I know that it would mean a lot for him if I were to simply drop the bomb on him now---though I realize, having said that, that that is perhaps a poor choice of words, given his admitted fear. But how much more an impact it will have if I build it up like this! I cannot wait to see what emotions play across his face.''
|
||||
|
||||
``\,`See'? You intend to wait until he uploads?''
|
||||
|
||||
``And why should I not? I know that he will.''
|
||||
|
||||
``He always talks about it as a potential thing, though.''
|
||||
|
||||
She grinned and shook her head. ``He will. He has already made up his mind, he just does not realize it yet.''
|
||||
|
||||
``How will you tell him, then?''
|
||||
|
||||
``I will continue to drop hints for another few months, and when he does---I think he will do it within the year---I will bring him home. There, we will talk, and you will observe as, over the course of a few minutes, I reveal the truth.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan straightened up. ``Me?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Of course. Can you think of a better myth? Can you think of a better story in history than of the man who brought the launches to fruition learning that he is talking to an instance of the very woman who helped bring Secession to fruition, the one who he has desired above all things to meet, who he thinks dead?''
|
||||
|
||||
``A little grandiose, don't you think?''
|
||||
|
||||
She stuck her tongue out at em, a strangely cute gesture on her features. ``Is that not a requirement of myths? A myth that is not grandiose is just a story.''
|
||||
|
||||
``You Odists do seem prone to grand gestures.''
|
||||
|
||||
May preened.
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan set down eir pen and folded eir hands on the table. ``Tell me a story, then.''
|
||||
|
||||
``One for the history? One for you?''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey shrugged.
|
||||
|
||||
She thought for a moment, once more drawing designs on the table with a claw.
|
||||
|
||||
``Alright,'' she said, standing up. ``Come with me, my dear.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan stood to follow her as she padded from the common room to the balcony, then down the steps from there to the yard, a rectangle of grass hemmed in by a moat of mulch, a fence of lilac bushes making up the border. They were technically the end of eir sim, though between the leaves and trunks of the bushes, one would occasionally catch a glimpse of another yard, another house, a street beyond.
|
||||
|
||||
``Look,'' she said.
|
||||
|
||||
Ey looked at the yard, at the lilacs, even the patio and the sky.
|
||||
|
||||
``What do you see?''
|
||||
|
||||
``My yard. What am I supposed to see?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Look at the grass. What do you see?''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey focused on the green carpet of grass, then frowned as ey began to notice the two or three yellow flowers spotting the yard just barely visible. They sat only a few millimeters below the tops of the trimmed grass. ``What are those?''
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk grinned at em toothily.
|
||||
|
||||
``May, what did you do?''
|
||||
|
||||
``I talked you into a small addition. That is what I did.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey knit eir brow. ``Talked me into\ldots how do you mean?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Do not worry, Ioan, you are the only one who has ACLs over your property. I do not. I just made a few suggestions, mostly when you were asleep---or at least very sleepy---or head-in-the-clouds at work.''
|
||||
|
||||
``You're saying I made these?'' ey asked, stepping out into the grass and bending down to inspect the flower, yellow, a myriad of petals, grand-toothed leaves radiating from the base.
|
||||
|
||||
``I am saying that \emph{we} made these.'' She bent down beside em and plucked the flower from near the ground, lifting it with a dream-clouded smile. ``I am saying that you trust me---\emph{really} trust me---and that life in the System is more subtle than I think you know. You trust me. You let me into your life as a coworker, then cohabitant and cosleeper. You let me into your dreams, my dear, and your dreams influence this place as much as, if not more than, your waking mind.''
|
||||
|
||||
That waking mind was now whirling with the ramifications of what she was saying. ``I did this on your suggestion?''
|
||||
|
||||
She shook her head. ``If you would like to think of it that way, yes, but I would prefer to say that we did this.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Is this your story?''
|
||||
|
||||
``No.~Sit down by me.''
|
||||
|
||||
They knelt before this brand new plant in the yard, both looking at the yellow flower May turned this way and that in her paw.
|
||||
|
||||
``This is a dandelion. It--''
|
||||
|
||||
A memory clicked into place for Ioan and ey laughed. ``Oh! Of course! I've been here too long, haven't I? Here in the System, here in the house with its perfect yard. Almost ninety years now, I think. They were all over back phys-side, though.''
|
||||
|
||||
May nodded and beckoned for em to continue.
|
||||
|
||||
``We didn't have a yard where I grew up. Just an apartment block facing the street, a strip of weeds between the building and sidewalk, and then between the sidewalk and road. At one time, I think that strip had contained grass and trees, but now it just contained a narrow path full of thistles and dandelions.
|
||||
|
||||
``I only ever saw lawns in movies or on the 'net. The world wasn't as bad back then as Douglas makes it sound now, but still, we weren't wealthy, and it was hard enough to ensure a steady supply of clean water for the residents, never mind grass like this. We were certainly not wealthy enough for that.'' Ey laughed. ``Well, we were dirt poor, actually. Most of the weeds were green, leafy things with fuzzy green flowers that would turn into bundles of seeds, or spiky thistles with purple bulbs of flowers, but there were a few dandelions scattered about.''
|
||||
|
||||
``No lilacs?''
|
||||
|
||||
``More stuff from media. I remember wishing I could grow some indoors because I thought they were small enough to be houseplants until I was corrected. I have no idea if these are accurate, but I remember loving the smell.''
|
||||
|
||||
``They are spot on, Ioan.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey smiled.
|
||||
|
||||
``So you uploaded and made your sim like this?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Yeah. Sort of. It was inspired by some sim I frequented on the 'net, something a friend built. I found something close to it on the market, and when I had reputation enough, I dug the sim and grabbed that template, then spent a year rebuilding it as best I could remember. No dandelions.''
|
||||
|
||||
She laughed, bumping her shoulder against eirs. ``Of course. They are a weed, yes. Or often thought of as one. The leaves make a good salad, though, and I was told that you could dry, roast, and grind the roots to make a coffee substitute.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan made a face. ``I'd rather coffee.''
|
||||
|
||||
``I have no idea if the substitute was any good, but I like coffee, too.'' She held the flower up to her snout and smelled long at it. ``Me, though, I like the flowers. They are too complicated for their own good in this stage, are they not? Sure, they close up and then become the puffballs that spread them further and further, but here, they are almost platters of yellow.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey grinned as she held the flower in both paws like a tray carrying food.
|
||||
|
||||
``But that is not what I like about them. I am telling you, now that you are awake, the things that I whispered to you to bring about this story. The things I suggested, as you put it. What I love is their scent.'' She held it up for em to sniff. ``They smell like muffins. How can anything that smells like muffins be bad? ''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey breathed deep of that scent. There was, indeed, the note of some baked sweet bread, but that was layered atop a vegetal scent. It was not unpleasant, but not precisely like a muffin. Ey decided not to share this opinion with May.
|
||||
|
||||
Instead, ey asked, ``Is that your story, May?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Of course not. You told the story yourself. Young Ioan with eir indoor lilacs.'' She laughed, peeking up at em slyly. ``Or perhaps we told the story. You asked, so I suggested, as you say, and you told the story.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan frowned, then rolled eir eyes. ``That's not what I asked, and you know it.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Tough shit. It is our story now,'' she said. ``Now, give me your hand.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey held eir hand out for her, then let her turn it over in her paws. Before ey could object, she flipped the flower over, pressed it firmly to eir skin, and rubbed it in a vigorous circle.
|
||||
|
||||
``There.'' She held eir hand up so that ey could see, looking proud.
|
||||
|
||||
On the back of eir hand, the skin shone a golden yellow in the circle where she had rubbed the flower.
|
||||
|
||||
Ey shoved her over onto the grass, laughing. ``You nut.''
|
||||
|
||||
She lay there among the grass, giggling helplessly. Among the grass where a brand new dandelion poked through the green in front of her snout. One that had not been there before.
|
||||
132
toledot/content/launch/sys/Ioan/005.tex
Normal file
132
toledot/content/launch/sys/Ioan/005.tex
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,132 @@
|
||||
\hypertarget{ioan-bux103lan-2325}{%
|
||||
\chapter{Ioan Bălan — 2325}\label{ioan-bux103lan-2325}}
|
||||
|
||||
``I uploaded as soon as I could. I think it was the forties?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Which forties?''
|
||||
|
||||
Renee laughed. ``Right, the 2140s, sorry. I can't believe it's been that long.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan smiled and jotted down the date. ``Thanks. What led you to upload?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Jesus, I don't know that I even remember anymore.'' She got a far-away look in her eyes, then brightened up. ``Cancer! I think, at least. I got something, and it just felt like it'd be easier to come up here than stay down there.''
|
||||
|
||||
``That makes sense. Not much of that to worry about here.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Sometimes I think it must've been early onset Alzheimer's.'' She laughed. ``I just get a little spacey, is all.''
|
||||
|
||||
``It's easy enough to do. I get stuck thinking about this or that and can't think of anything else, sometimes,'' ey said.
|
||||
|
||||
``Oh! Yes, that's it precisely. I get stuck writing stuff in my head, and then I forget what it was that I was doing.''
|
||||
|
||||
``You write music?''
|
||||
|
||||
She nodded. ``Composer, conductor, violinist. Have you heard any of my stuff?''
|
||||
|
||||
``I listened to some while I was preparing for our meeting.'' Ioan smiled sheepishly. ``I'll admit that much of it was over my\pagebreak\ head, but I can certainly see the skill behind it, and you play beautifully.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Thank you for saying so,'' she said, giving a hint of a bow. ``For saying all that, I mean. I sometimes enjoy writing stuff that's hard to grasp. It makes for an experience of its own. Bafflement, confusion, lack of understanding, those are all feelings, and music is supposed to toy with feelings.''
|
||||
|
||||
``That's something I can appreciate, as well.''
|
||||
|
||||
``I'm sure you can, with your work with the Odists.'' Renee grinned at eir confusion. ``I read up on you as well. They sound like a wild bunch.''
|
||||
|
||||
``I'll say.'' Ey laughed. ``You were a musician before uploading, too, correct?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Oh, yes! One of those lucky few who got to do what she loved for a living. I think that's why I uploaded, in the end. Getting a terminal diagnosis didn't really make me depressed in and of itself. What got to me was the thought that that would mean I wouldn't be able to play or write anymore. I've seen people go through treatment, and none of them are in any shape to play an instrument.''
|
||||
|
||||
``What kind of cancer? If you don't mind me asking.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Thyroid, I think. Yes, that was it. I noticed it when it started to get uncomfortable to hold the violin.'' She made a sour face, then added, ``I'm sure I sound obsessed.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey waved the comment away. ``I'm here to listen. Please, obsess all you like.''
|
||||
|
||||
Renee smiled gratefully. ``There really was nothing in my life, otherwise. Writing, playing, conducting. Concert after concert after concert. No friends, no family, no other hobbies, no other addictions. What would I even do with myself without the few things in my life I loved? Really, truly loved, too. I loved my parents, but it was more of a theoretical love. I told myself I loved my husband, but when he left---I was too distracted, he said---I was actually sort of relieved.''\pagebreak
|
||||
|
||||
``That's a plenty good reason to upload, I'd say. 2140s, hmm.'' Ey hunted through eir memory, back to interviews with Douglas. ``That was before governments were paying people to upload. Was it expensive for you to upload?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Paid\ldots?'' She frowned and shook her head. ``God, no. What a weird idea.''
|
||||
|
||||
``It got bad, phys-side. Some governments started subsidizing uploads to keep populations down and people happy.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Weird, weird. No, it was not expensive, but I did have to pay. Couple thousand francs CFA, I think?''
|
||||
|
||||
``I don't have a reference point for that amount. I was compensated---well, my family was---to upload, coming to about two years tuition at the university. In terms of what the average person made where you lived, was that a lot?''
|
||||
|
||||
She shrugged. ``Not sure about an average person. It was about six months' saving for me, and musicians didn't make a ton of money.''
|
||||
|
||||
``There wasn't much money in history, either,'' ey said. ``Now, the reason I sought you out was two-fold. First of all, one of the things you're known for is that you found a way to send your compositions phys-side pretty early on, correct?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Yes. Yes! I had nearly forgotten that they pinned that on me.'' She laughed, leaning back in her chair. ``I didn't really figure it out, so much as use something a publisher pointed out to me as a curiosity. It's nigh impossible to send images and sound back through phys-side. I guess they came through all garbled, with little bits in focus and the rest a total mess, like remembering a dream. I have no clue as to the details.''
|
||||
|
||||
``As I've heard, too. Text appears to work okay, as something more concrete.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Right, just drop it in the perisystem blah blah and phys-side can pick it up. Anyway, music can be described, and that publisher said that there had been several different tools for writing sheet music as just plain old text. Want to play the note A? Write\pagebreak\ down A. B? Write down B. A rest? R. \emph{Et cetera et cetera ad nauseum.} It was nothing new, but I guess no one had thought to try something like that before. I read up on one of them and made a few changes to the whole shebang, and now we can send that back and forth. Books? Sure. Math? Sure. Even film and stage scripts! Why not music?''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan laughed. ``Of course. That makes sense. Did your music change after you uploaded?''
|
||||
|
||||
``I wrote a lot more string works,'' she said, grinning. ``After all, I could fork and play as many parts as I wanted. Or could afford, at least. It still cost a bit to fork back then. I also made a few instruments up here that I could only describe in order to let phys-side know how to make. Concerts were much easier to have, because schedules are easier to coordinate when you're not restricted to just one version of yourself. Music started to drift between sys-side and phys-side---stylistically, I mean. I got some iffy reviews of stuff offline that went over pretty well here.''
|
||||
|
||||
``What happened to music phys-side that didn't here?''
|
||||
|
||||
``They swung back towards some older styles. Second-wave minimalism was at its height when I was leaving, and I loved the stuff. All those long notes, chords that held forever or used rhythm to add variety. Phasing.'' She chopped her hands unevenly in the air before herself, emphasizing the latter in a way that Ioan didn't understand at all. ``Outside the System, though, it swung back toward more romantic stuff. It was all very Mahler, very Antoniewicz, very Liu. The problem with living forever, though, is that you can keep refining your craft in whatever ways you want. I stuck with minimalism, for the most part. People keep uploading, though, and they bring their ideas with them, so I've tried to diversify my works a little bit, but I write what sounds good to me.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Is there a steady stream of composers joining? Enough to shift styles sys-side?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Less so, lately. If people are being paid to upload, though, it's not too surprising. That makes it sound like things are a mess out there, and when things are a mess, people study less music and try to get out early, often before they've got the experience and knowledge that set in later in life. Would explain the wave of folk music I've seen in the last decades.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Makes me want to take a survey of ages when folks upload through the years.'' Ey scribbled a note to emself on the corner of eir paper. ``Another time, though. The second reason that I wanted to interview is that you didn't opt to join the launch. Why was that?''
|
||||
|
||||
She covered her face with her hands and laughed, sounding muffled. ``Oh no, that's embarrassing. I meant to, I really did. I just forgot.''
|
||||
|
||||
That evening, back at eir house, after ey had merged eir work-forks, after ey had sat down to dinner with May, ey finally let the memories, those countless little moments, wash over em.
|
||||
|
||||
``What?'' the skunk asked, head tilted.
|
||||
|
||||
``Hmm?''
|
||||
|
||||
``You were frowning. What happened? Getting tired of my cooking?''
|
||||
|
||||
``No, it's good. Just thinking about something Codrin\#Castor talked about today.'' Ey stabbed at a spear of asparagus. ``Ey interviewed some asshole author who was working on a book on both launches, but intentionally not communicating to see how they would diverge.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Sounds fun enough,'' May said. ``But, if I am thinking of the same author, it will be quite boring.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan laughed, finished chewing on the asparagus. ``Codrin suggested that we specifically not do that, though, that it might be better to coordinate between the two launches a little better. Figure out who to interview and in what order, while the transmission time isn't too bad.''
|
||||
|
||||
May shrugged. ``I am up for it, if all three of our groups agree.''
|
||||
|
||||
``After I explained it to Codrin\#Pollux, ey seemed on board. I think it might be a good idea.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Did either of them have any suggestions for where to look next?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Nothing in particular,'' Ioan said around a bite of fish. ``Sorry. I figure stuff like why one invested in one or the other is a project that could go on forever, based on the numbers. Sure, there are only two hundred or so clades that totally invested in the launches, but the numbers are much higher on our end.''
|
||||
|
||||
``You are thinking about Secession, are you not? Looking for founders to interview?'' May grinned. ``Clever.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Am I that transparent?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Yes, absolutely.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey laughed. ``Well, how much of the Council of Eight remains?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Most. I will direct one of the Codrins to find some of them.''
|
||||
|
||||
``But not me?''
|
||||
|
||||
``No.~Remember I am curious to see who you find first.'' They ate in silence for a bit, before May spoke up. ``Do you remember what I said about Michelle?''
|
||||
|
||||
``That she was instrumental to Secession, yeah. I was thinking of hunting down some Odists.''
|
||||
|
||||
``A good bet, that.'' She paused, looked down at her plate and said, more quietly, ``Will you ask the first lines?''
|
||||
|
||||
``That was my plan. I figure they were the first forked.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Yes.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Is something wrong?''
|
||||
|
||||
``I am worried that you will be unhappy with what you hear.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan shrugged. ``It's history, isn't it? Nothing to be done about it.''
|
||||
|
||||
She nodded, setting her fork down on her plate, though some of the food remained. ``Yes, but I am worried that you will be unhappy with me.''
|
||||
154
toledot/content/launch/sys/Ioan/006.tex
Normal file
154
toledot/content/launch/sys/Ioan/006.tex
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,154 @@
|
||||
\hypertarget{ioan-bux103lan-2325}{%
|
||||
\chapter{Ioan Bălan — 2325}\label{ioan-bux103lan-2325}}
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan and May walked hand-in-paw along the rim of a lake. It had settled neatly into a bowl formed by three peaks, and around it wound a deer-trail, which was only wide enough to permit them to walk side by side half the time. For the rest of the hike, Ioan walked in front, guiding May, pointing out roots, and eventually helping her clamber up onto a rock out-cropping at the point where the lake drained into the lands below through a chattering creek.
|
||||
|
||||
There they sat to eat their lunches and talk.
|
||||
|
||||
``I had no idea that you enjoyed hiking.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Oh, goodness no. I hate it.'' Ey laughed. ``But it's the only way to get to this rock.''
|
||||
|
||||
They sat in silence for a while, the sun warming their backs as it slid down toward the peaks that ey supposed must be west.
|
||||
|
||||
``Why did you bring me out here, Ioan?''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey lazily scanned the far shore of the lake, picking out the places where the deer trail dipped shyly down to the edge of the water before darting back up into the trees.
|
||||
|
||||
``I needed to focus on something further away than a piece of paper,'' ey said at last. ``Further than the lilacs in the yard.''
|
||||
|
||||
``And the interviews you have done have not helped?''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey shrugged.
|
||||
|
||||
``Cabin fever, perhaps?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Maybe, yeah.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Ioan, I am not the one who is supposed to be asking questions,'' she chided.
|
||||
|
||||
``Right, sorry. It's a little bit cabin fever, I guess. I've spent an awful lot of time cooped up in the house and just sending forks out to run the interviews. It's one thing to remember being outside, but another still to have to make that memory align with not having left the house in days.''
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk nodded, picking a pebble from near her paw and tossing it into the lake. ``I understand. It think that I am perhaps more comfortable inside than you are, but I am still happy that you brought me here.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Glad you like it. It's an abandoned sim that I visited decades back and still had the coordinates to. It reminded me of how my grandfather described his time in Slovenia.'' Ey crumpled the wrapper to eir sandwich and returned it to the backpack that ey'd brought with em. ``It's just good to get out and change contexts, I guess.''
|
||||
|
||||
May nodded.
|
||||
|
||||
``It's just\ldots{}'' Ey frowned, hunting for the words. ``It's just that we have limitless time and limitless space and all the creativity we could hope to use, and still I sometimes feel trapped, as though I'm stuck in this tiny, constrained space where I can barely move and can't hope to stretch out. Does that make sense?''
|
||||
|
||||
``It is not a feeling I share, but I can see how one might,'' May said, carefully shifting the backpack from between them to the other side of her so that she could lean against em. ``It is the feeling one gets when one asks ``is that all there is?'' and the answer comes back ``yes, of course''.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Yeah,'' ey murmured. As May rested her head against eir shoulder, ey turned eir head to place a kiss between her ears. Ey did not remember when ey had first started doing that, but it had long since become habit. Every time ey remembered that it had been an act that was out of character for em until May moved in, some part of em raced around in circles to try and find out what had changed and why.
|
||||
|
||||
\emph{It's just\ldots May. That's just how she is,} ey kept reminding emself. \emph{There is no explaining an Odist.}
|
||||
|
||||
``It's been happening more and more since the idea of the launches first started to take off. It happened before, too, but I think coming to the understanding that this \emph{isn't} all there is, that there's also stuff outside the System and far away from the Sun\ldots well, it just kind of rubbed my face in it. ``You're stuck here, Ioan Bălan,'' it says. ``You're not going to be on the launch, and even if you were, that wouldn't be you. There'd be no merging of experiences''.''
|
||||
|
||||
May laughed. ``I find freedom in that. Not only will I not have to do any of that work, but I will also get to be one of the shitheads that stays behind.''
|
||||
|
||||
``And that's a bonus?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Of course it is, my dear. When was the last time you had the luxury of staying behind? Of that being a one-way decision?''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey frowned.
|
||||
|
||||
``Do not think too hard, Ioan. I can tell you now that it was before you uploaded,'' she said, as though speaking from a dream. ``That was the last time that you could have made the choice to stay behind. It is some of Dear's beloved irreversibility. You cannot un-upload. You cannot upload part of the way. There is no going and there is no back, remember? Now, though, you are here. If you are busy working and a friend is throwing a party, why, just fork! You do not need to worry about whether or not you need stay behind or join them. You can do both.''
|
||||
|
||||
``But with the launch, you had the decision to stay behind.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Yes, it was a new experience. New in these last two centuries.''
|
||||
|
||||
``You're so weird,'' ey said, then laughed as she elbowed em in the side.
|
||||
|
||||
``We are both weird.'' She poked at eir thigh with a claw. ``That includes you, my dear. We both stayed behind, and we both sent along cocladists so far diverged from us that they might as well have become new individuals.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Mm, true. I'm happy for them, at least.''
|
||||
|
||||
``As am I. Their communications are not quite as happy as I suspect they wish, but I am still happy for them.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan knit eir brow. ``There is that, yeah. Do you remember Ezekiel?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Of course,'' May said, sitting up and swinging her legs up onto the rock so that she could sit cross-legged, facing em. ``He was brilliant. Intensely, incredibly brilliant. I am sure that he still is, but that brilliance is now coiled all around itself in the way that happens with prophets throughout the ages.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey turned to face May in turn. ``Who do you think that weighed more on, though? Dear or Codrin?''
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk dipped her muzzle. ``That is difficult to say. They are each sensitive in their own ways. Dear, I imagine, is feeling a lot of old fears confirmed, and old memories come to roost. I worry that, some day, that fox will spin itself into a whirlwind and dissipate into the atmosphere.''
|
||||
|
||||
``I'm sure it'd enjoy that.''
|
||||
|
||||
``It would make it a whole production. Invite everyone on the LV.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan laughed.
|
||||
|
||||
``And Codrin?'' she said.
|
||||
|
||||
``I expect ey's struggling, in eir own way. Were I confronted with something like that, I'd be able to keep it together throughout the interview, but afterwards, I'd have to spend a lot of time just decompressing.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Why is that?''
|
||||
|
||||
``You spend all your time up here--'' Ey tapped at eir temple. ``--and being confronted by the ways in which that can go wrong to someone who was, as you say, brilliant, can really mess with you. I bet ey holed emself up in that office for a while and paced a ring into the floor.''
|
||||
|
||||
If ey had been expecting a laugh or a smile from the skunk, ey was disappointed. She simply nodded and looked off into the water again. ``There is nothing wrong with that, Ioan. We have known that disconnect. We have known the feeling of a mind coiled in on itself. That is frightening to all of us. It \emph{should} be frightening.''
|
||||
|
||||
Suspecting that May would appreciate it and not knowing what to say to that, ey simply reached out and took one of her paws in eir hands.
|
||||
|
||||
Ey didn't know how long they sat there like that. Ey didn't remember what ey was thinking, or where ey looked. All ey remembered was the satiny feeling of May's pawpads against eir skin, and the sound of a quiet lake.
|
||||
|
||||
May broke the silence first. ``Ioan, my tail is falling asleep. Can we go back?''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey nodded, levering emself up onto eir knees, then onto eir feet so that ey could help the skunk stand.
|
||||
|
||||
She laughed and winced once she stood, rubbing at the base of her tail. ``All pins and needles.''
|
||||
|
||||
``I can't even begin to imagine how that must feel in a tail.''
|
||||
|
||||
``And I cannot imagine how to describe it. Help me down, and we can walk back.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Walk? You don't want to just leave?''
|
||||
|
||||
``If you are going to drag me out on a hike, then so help me God, take me on the hike, Ioan.''
|
||||
|
||||
They walked back along the deer trail, back the way they came. The water was now to their left, and where their eyes had been drawn to it before, they were now drawn to the pine forest that rimmed the lake. Trees reached straight for the sky from their brown bed of needles.
|
||||
|
||||
And as they walked, faster than before, May talked. ``I worry about them. Both launches, both families. I worry about me and you. The interview with Ezekiel, yes, but both of them, both Castor and Pollux, are starting to circle around the center of it all.''
|
||||
|
||||
``The center?''
|
||||
|
||||
``All three of us---Dear\#Castor, Dear\#Pollux, and I---have warned all three of you Bălans that there is a lot behind this.'' She was panting now as she walked, faster and faster. She had taken the lead, and was drawing em along behind her as she spoke. ``We couch it in humor and jokey language as though they are riddles for you to solve, but Ioan, I worry that all it will do in the end is sow distrust between our two clades.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan worked to keep up with May as she nearly jogged around the last bend in the path. ``We can stop, May. If you don't think it'll lead to anything good, then we can just stop. We can look elsewhere. We can go back to interviewing musicians and astronomers and shitty authors. There are still stories to tell, and I'm sure that they will lead to just as many myths.''
|
||||
|
||||
She shook her head. Or at least Ioan thought she did. It was hard to tell, with the two of them jouncing along down the path.
|
||||
|
||||
``May, please, at least slow down! You're going to pull me over.''
|
||||
|
||||
Rather than slowing down, the skunk skidded to a stop, leading Ioan to nearly collide with her. As it was, ey had to stumble to the side to keep from bowling her over.
|
||||
|
||||
``May?''
|
||||
|
||||
``I am sorry.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey frowned at the stricken expression on her face, the tear-tracks in cheekfur. ``Do you want us to stop? Stop talking to Odists? If you want to help guide us to better places to look, we can take a break from it.''
|
||||
|
||||
She was already shaking her head. ``You are not going to be able to avoid it, Ioan. I am worried, and I will not stop being worried, but you will not be able to avoid the inevitable end of this line of thought. You did not know it, but you were not even able to avoid the beginning of it.''
|
||||
|
||||
``There's no way to stay behind, you mean.''
|
||||
|
||||
She laughed, and the laugh was shaky with tears. ``You are a brat. But yes. There is no way to stay behind.''
|
||||
|
||||
``You're just worried?''
|
||||
|
||||
``I am just worried. You are at serious risk of learning the truth, and that has me worried.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Alright.'' Ey drew May in for a hug. ``I don't understand you Odists. I never have. You seem to have all these dramatic events spiraling around you.''
|
||||
|
||||
She giggled as she rested her head against eir shoulder. ``We do, yes, and you love it.''
|
||||
|
||||
``It keeps life interesting, no denying. I just worry about you in turn.''
|
||||
|
||||
``That feels nice to hear, my dear.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Good,'' ey said.
|
||||
|
||||
``Now, take me home and talk about something---anything---else for the rest of the night.''
|
||||
214
toledot/content/launch/sys/Ioan/007.tex
Normal file
214
toledot/content/launch/sys/Ioan/007.tex
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,214 @@
|
||||
\hypertarget{ioan-bux103lan-2325}{%
|
||||
\chapter{Ioan Bălan — 2325}\label{ioan-bux103lan-2325}}
|
||||
|
||||
\begin{quote}
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan Bălan:} What excited you about the prospect of uploading?
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Fu Jinzai:} I actually wasn't that excited about the prospect. It was something that I just kind of did because it felt like it'd be easier than sticking around. The kids weren't seeing me anyway, and I could at least get them some cash for when they were older. It sounded nice enough up here, but there were still nice things back there, you know? I didn't think about it too much.
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan:} What do you miss most about phys-side?
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Jinzai:} The mountains.
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan:} Have you done much exploring in the mountains around here?
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Jinzai:} Oh, sure. They're fine. Some of the ones that I've gotten around to visiting are really nice. They've got a lot of variety and all. There are some that are more like the Alps and some that are more like the Himalayas and some that are kind of like the ones back home, but it's not that I miss, like, the idea of mountains. I miss the little bits of the mountains that made them mine. I miss all the little caves that you could find, or when trees that had fallen over and their root-balls had been pulled up and you could sit under them if you weren't afraid of bugs or anything {[}laughter{]}. I miss the little shacks that people had built years and years and years ago, and, like, you have no idea what they were there for, right? Maybe this one is next to a pond, so it's for fishing, but then that one is just kind of in the middle of a forest, and it's too big to be an outhouse and too small to be a cabin, so maybe its a, a {[}snapping fingers{]} hunting blind? Is that the word?
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan:} Where you sit and wait for animals to go by while hunting?
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Jinzai:} Yes! A hunting blind. And then I miss---and this is really silly---I miss logging. It's horrible, right? {[}laughter{]} I know that it's horrible. Some people put in logging trails on their mountains, but they don't put those big swaths of woody trash that the loggers leave behind. I kind of miss that, you know? I miss looking out to the next mountain over and seeing this big rectangular patch of brown. I miss hearing chainsaws running miles away across the valley, but it sounds like, I don't know, like a dream, because it's echoing around the hills.
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan:} It sounds a little like the mountains you've found here are too perfect, perhaps. Is that sort of what you're saying?
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Jinzai:} Yeah, I think so. It's too perfect. I don't mind perfection, of course, it's a damn sight better than living a terrible life, but---oh man, I'm gonna sound like my grandpa when I say this---it lacks that kind of toughness that makes you build character. Not, like, the character that he meant, in the trash sense of, like, being a big tough guy, but like, I think if you could grow up here around all this perfection, you wouldn't have much character. You'd be pretty boring. {[}laughter{]} I guess I'm glad that you can't upload until you're 18, so you at least have a chance to have some comparison to perfect mountains with the shitty ones phys-side.
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan:} What's the first thing that you did after uploading?
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Jinzai:} Oh man, this is gross, so I'm sorry ahead of time. I ate myself sick. {[}laughter{]} I found some of those big sims that are all food and whatever, and I figured, ``Hey, I don't have a body, right? I can do whatever!'' So I started hopping from sim to sim just absolutely stuffing myself until I felt like I was going to pop, but I started getting super uncomfortable, so I came home and got super sick. {[}laughter{]} Sorry, yeah, that's pretty gross. I didn't realize that you could fiddle with your sensa\ldots sensi\ldots{}
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan:} Sensorium?
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Jinzai:} Yeah, sensorium. I didn't know that you could fiddle with it so that you could just keep eating or whatever, but unless you're conscious of it, your mind makes it so that you just kind of work like you do back home. Didn't know that, so I ate until I just about burst. {[}laughter{]}
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan:} What's your biggest regret about uploading.
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Jinzai:} {[}long pause{]} I mean, I said that I wasn't really seeing my kids much back then, and I guess that was true enough. I got to see them two or three times a year when I got rotated between crops and had a few weeks of leave. But like\ldots man. I love them. I love them so much. I love them and I miss them every day, just like I loved them and missed them every day back phys-side. I regret\ldots ah, hell. {[}long pause{]} I regret that even though they didn't really know me all that well, that they'll never get to know me at all, now, and all I'll have are these memories and-- {[}long pause{]} and the only way I'll ever get to see them again is if they upload and, like, as a dad, I'm not sure that I really want them to. I know it's perfect and all, or at least can be, but I'm not sure I want them to feel like they need to upload to get away from a shit life, and I definitely don't want them to feel like they need to upload just to see me again.
|
||||
\end{quote}
|
||||
|
||||
\vspace{0.5em}
|
||||
|
||||
\begin{center}\rule{0.5\linewidth}{0.5pt}\end{center}
|
||||
|
||||
\vspace{1em}
|
||||
|
||||
\noindent Ioan didn't know quite what it was about the latest messages from the launches that was nagging at em so much. It wasn't that either of the Codrins were sending back anything that was particularly surprising. Sure, the Odists had been a big part of Secession, but ey knew that, hadn't ey? They dealt with propaganda and speeches and politics, so they must have been, right? That's what was needed for something like seceding from the rest of the governments on earth, right?
|
||||
|
||||
It wasn't the more personal notes that ey'd gotten, expressing how life was going out on the LVs, all of the ways in which it was exactly the same, except for some key difference in sentiment. Those on the LVs felt like they were going on a journey, and those who remained at the L\textsubscript{5} System felt like they weren't, so there was an entirely different feeling between two societies that were otherwise identical.
|
||||
|
||||
\emph{Three} societies, for it was obvious that Castor and Pollux were diverging rapidly without strict contact with each other or the System.
|
||||
|
||||
And it wasn't that, either. Ey had known from the very start that the systems on the LVs would diverge from each other as soon as they were launched. Nothing about that was weighing on em, and it was turning out to be precisely as interesting as ey had expected that it would be.
|
||||
|
||||
And yet, still\ldots{}
|
||||
|
||||
\begin{center}\rule{0.5\linewidth}{0.5pt}\end{center}
|
||||
|
||||
\begin{quote}
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan Bălan:} What was the first thing that you did after uploading?
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Magnús Einarsson:} Sleep. I don't know why, but for some reason, right after uploading, I felt like all I could do was sleep.
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan:} Did you have trouble sleeping before you uploaded?
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Magnús:} Not particularly, no. At least, I don't think so. I just found a room that I thought would be good and then slept for probably two days straight. That went on for a while, too, I would get up and eat or whatever, try and read a book, and then get so tired that I'd have to sleep again, so I'd sleep another twenty hours.
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan:} Do you still sleep a lot?
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Magnús:} Not nearly so much, no, but still more than I did before uploading.
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan:} And you uploaded about thirty years ago?
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Magnús:} 2292. March 3rd.
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan:} Alright, thank you.
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Magnús:} Why do you ask?
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan:} I'm specifically looking for people who uploaded in the last 150 years, after they started-- I mean, after they stopped charging to let people upload.
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Magnús:} They used to charge?
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan:} Yes. Was your family compensated for you to uplooad?
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Magnús:} {[}laughter{]} Quite well, yes. It was this big argument between my wife and I. I didn't particularly want to upload, but she said that she'd be able to keep the kids in a better school up North with the funds, and then she'd follow once she was sure that they were in a good spot and that she could say goodbye to them properly and all. We'd heard all about it, and it obviously didn't sound bad at all. It was just\ldots I don't know. It was like being asked to move away forever, even if I knew that she would follow, and that maybe my kids would too, after they had a good life.
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan:} Do you regret uploading at--
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Magnús:} She never did.
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan:} I'm sorry?
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Magnús:} She never followed. She got the kids in their nice school and remarried. I haven't heard from her in twenty-five years.
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan:} I'm sorry to hear that. It must've been hard to hear that from her.
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Magnús:} Oh, I didn't hear it from her. I heard it from one of my kids. Anita. They wrote to me and said that mama had moved in with another man and that school was alright and that was that.
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan:} I'm sorry. Do you still talk with your children, at least?
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Magnús:} I talk with Anita sometimes. They say they might upload in a few years. They say married life isn't what they expected, and now they're in much the same position I was. They have a kid. They're less strapped for cash with their husband's job, but they're still not going to get anywhere. It sounds like they have a much better relationship with their husband, though, so maybe it won't just be the same old cycle again.
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan:} How do you feel about that as an option for them?
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Magnús:} I don't know. Disappointed? Disappointed but not surprised? If they do wind up coming here, then I am going to do my best to make up for lost time.
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan:} What sorts of things will you show them when they upload? What are some things that you like best up here?
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Magnús:} There's the things that I like best, and then the things that I think we'll like best together. The things that I like best are the really relaxing things. I like swimming and then going and laying on the grass. I like reading. I like just sim-hopping and people watching. The things that I think we'll like best together are probably some of the game sims that people have set up. They really liked a lot of the spy sims back on the 'net, like the ones where you hide behind walls and sneak through a base and play capture the flag or whatever. I always found them stressful when I did them on my own, but doing one with them, one where we had to escape from a search party, is one of my best memories with them. They have some good ones here that I think they'd like.
|
||||
\end{quote}
|
||||
|
||||
\begin{center}\rule{0.5\linewidth}{0.5pt}\end{center}
|
||||
|
||||
\noindent Eir current best guess at what kept their anxiety level always at least a little bit above baseline was the obvious similarities between Secession and Launch. It wasn't just that the Odists were involved in both, because both felt like something that the Odists would be interested in.
|
||||
|
||||
Rather, it was the fact that the very same individuals had wormed their way into the very same roles with two projects of very similar structure. Again, on the surface, not too surprising, but the result of that was that the two events started to look almost the same, which in turn made Ioan think that Secession had been almost a practice run for Launch.
|
||||
|
||||
Obviously it wasn't. At least not precisely. Secession was a necessary thing based on the politics of the time phys-side, while Launch was something that was borne out of a desire to explore.
|
||||
|
||||
Wasn't it?
|
||||
|
||||
It just felt an awful lot like those who had helped the most with Secession used their work as a template for executing the launch.
|
||||
|
||||
\begin{center}\rule{0.5\linewidth}{0.5pt}\end{center}
|
||||
|
||||
\begin{quote}
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan Bălan:} What was the most disappointing thing that happened or that you saw after uploading?
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Rosemary Seeley:} I think just how lonely it was at first.
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan:} Can you expand on that?
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Rosemary:} I mean, when you first upload, you're kinda dumped into a set of common areas until you figure out where you're going to stay or whatever. You can meet up with family members if you have them---I didn't---or you can meet up with those of a similar culture or religion---I'm from the middle of the blandest town on the planet and don't hold to any religion---or maybe you can meet up with others based around a similar interest. Thing is, I'm really interested in just cooking and chatting and reading.
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan:} Were you able to find any groups for cooking or reading?
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Rosemary:} Not at first, which I think is what made it feel so isolating. People talk about System Freeze, and I can guarantee you it's real. {[}laughter{]}
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan:} How would you describe System Freeze?
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Rosemary:} Well, I mean, I was poor as dirt back on Earth. I was a pretty good cook who liked to read mystery novels when she wasn't working. If you're poor as dirt, you're only going to get so good at cooking, though, and you're only going to be reading a certain kind of mystery novel. It's not like I went through a ton of schooling to be reading anything high-minded, and what can I say, I'm a sucker for pulp. So I upload and wind up staying in a communal sim somewhere and every time I go out to look for people who like cooking, it's all these people who are \emph{super} into it and have all this weird experience, so all I can do is take classes, and I feel like a real hick. Then I go out and look for reading clubs or people who like mystery novels, and all I can find are these groups that read what I liked ironically so that they can dunk on it with friends.
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan:} I'm sorry to hear that. It sounds really alienating.
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Rosemary:} It was, yeah.
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan:} You said it was lonely at first. What was it that helped it be less lonely for you?
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Rosemary:} Oh, you're going to laugh at this. It's really embarrassing.
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan:} You don't need to share if it's uncomfortable, of course.
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Rosemary:} No, no. It's funny now. Just embarrassing. I started lying. I said that I was an author of a series of books that were mysteries that were also cookbooks. I said I was this schlock author who wrote terrible novels with mediocre recipes and just kept pumping them out as fast as I could under a bunch of different pseudonyms and that I got really tired of writing them and how bad they were, so I uploaded. I started just going to a few of those ironic book clubs and a few of the cooking classes and started talking about these horrible books that I'd written. Weird thing is? People started saying that they remembered them! I guess it is a real genre that people write, so any time someone said they remembered a book I'd laugh and look all embarrassed and say something like, ``Oh nooo, that one was so bad! Paid the bills, though.'' {[}laughter{]} Eventually, I kind of dropped the bit, but by then, I'd gotten a few friends who were interested in just cooking normal things for each other, and a few others who actually liked the pulpy mysteries, and that's how I broke through it.
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan:} {[}laughter{]} That's really clever.
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Rosemary:} The one time I've been proud of lying, yeah.
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan:} What would you suggest that others experiencing System Freeze do?
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Rosemary:} Don't wait for it to solve itself, and don't wear yourself out searching. You can just make whatever interest group you want, and if one exists, just be willing to get folded into it. You won't even have to lie. {[}laughter{]} But that's just the start. If you don't actually want to keep up with the interest group long-term, that's fine, your only real goal is to start meeting people, then things start to thaw.
|
||||
\end{quote}
|
||||
|
||||
\begin{center}\rule{0.5\linewidth}{0.5pt}\end{center}
|
||||
|
||||
\noindent And so here ey was, hunting down those who had uploaded specifically for the money that it would leave their families and friends back phys-side. Their stories were, ey figured, just as valid as anyone's. They were just as valid as eir own, for had ey not done the same? Here ey was, interviewing those like emself.
|
||||
|
||||
These were the people who had moved to the System out of some sense of not just a better life for themselves, but one for those they had left behind. Ioan had had few enough ties back to eir family phys-side after uploading---only enough to ensure that the payments had gone through and that eir kid brother was alright---and then none since then. If any of eir family had uploaded since then, none had gotten in touch and ey'd been too much of a coward to go looking for Rareș.
|
||||
|
||||
Eir hope in undertaking this exercise had been to learn a bit more about the time between Secession and Launch, about what had lead to the demographics of a System that had decided to hurl large portions of itself out into space. Was it something perhaps borne of the sentiment of the population that had grown in the intervening years? Was it something that had always been there?
|
||||
|
||||
When ey had come up with the list of questions, ey had intended to divine why those who had uploaded had found the System attractive. Was that, perhaps, what had driven the desire for the launch?
|
||||
|
||||
And yet now, it seemed like that was, at most, a secondary effect.
|
||||
|
||||
So much was going on that had gone on before and so many of the same actors were involved that, although these interviews had been interesting in and of themselves, it seemed doubtful that such had had any notable affect.
|
||||
|
||||
\begin{center}\rule{0.5\linewidth}{0.5pt}\end{center}
|
||||
|
||||
\begin{quote}
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan:} How do you feel about the launch project?
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Jinzai:} {[}shrugging{]} It feels largely irrelevant to me. I'm here to help my kids, and if they upload some day, I want to be here for them.
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan:} Did you send a fork to go along with the launches?
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Jinzai:} No, I never really felt comfortable with forking. Just me here on the station.
|
||||
|
||||
\begin{center}\rule{0.5\linewidth}{0.5pt}\end{center}
|
||||
\end{quote}
|
||||
|
||||
\begin{quote}
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan:} How do you feel about the launch?
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Magnús:} I don't care. It doesn't matter, does it? It's just this wild-eyed idea that feels like it doesn't have much relevance. I don't remember having any interest in {[}said in a singsong voice{]} exploring the galaxy when I was on Earth, and I don't have any now, so why bother? I don't think anyone else did, down there, either.
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan:} Did you send a fork along with the launches?
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Magnús:} Never forked before. Never got the hang of it.
|
||||
\end{quote}
|
||||
|
||||
\begin{center}\rule{0.5\linewidth}{0.5pt}\end{center}
|
||||
|
||||
\begin{quote}
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan:} How do you feel about the launch?
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Rosemary:} It felt silly, you know? Like this big, grand idea that some folks get, and it was just kind of one of those things that folks do just to say they can, like going to Mars, or creating their own wild sim.
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Ioan:} Did you send a fork along with the launches?
|
||||
|
||||
\textbf{Rosemary:} Yeah. I figured, ``Why not? No harm in going so long as I can stay here, right?''
|
||||
\end{quote}
|
||||
|
||||
\begin{center}\rule{0.5\linewidth}{0.5pt}\end{center}
|
||||
|
||||
\noindent And so ey went home, back to work on the project, back to receive more updates from the Codrins and the LVs. Back to sit in front of an empty page, considering what it meant that they felt caught up in some storm, some vortex that ey could not see except that the occasional landmark would pass through their field of view, once every two hundred years. Back to sit with May and at least feel comfortable with someone, even if that someone was starting to feel, for some reason ey could not fully understand, as though they were part of that very vortex.
|
||||
160
toledot/content/launch/sys/Ioan/008.tex
Normal file
160
toledot/content/launch/sys/Ioan/008.tex
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,160 @@
|
||||
\hypertarget{ioan-bux103lan-2325}{%
|
||||
\chapter{Ioan Bălan — 2325}\label{ioan-bux103lan-2325}}
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan's next interview subject was waiting for em at the agreed-upon library in the agreed-upon sim.
|
||||
|
||||
The location was grand, as though it had been tailored perfectly to eir tastes: a cube sixty meters on a side, lit brightly by lights so that within shone a smaller cube made entirely of shelves. Shelves containing book after book after book. Spiral staircases wound up each corner, disgorging patrons onto the various levels so that they could meander along balconies and dive into corridors of books. Books, magazines, pamphlets. Scrolls, parchments, leaflets, snippets, chicken-scratch in diaries, words upon words upon words.
|
||||
|
||||
And there, on the bottom floor beneath all of the books, a cafe and bar, serving everything from tea and coffee to beer, whiskey, and doubtless some ridiculously fancy cocktails.
|
||||
|
||||
``Mx. Ioan Bălan?'' The young woman was waiting for em just inside the door to the cube.
|
||||
|
||||
Ey held out a hand. ``Yes. You must be Sadiah?''
|
||||
|
||||
She beamed and bowed to em. ``Yes, yes! It is nice to meet you. You'll have to forgive me for not shaking your hand, I don't like being touched. Follow me, though, I've staked out a booth where we can talk.''
|
||||
|
||||
They wound their way through a small crowd, an array of low couches and tables, and between the coffee and alcohol bars to a high-walled booth in the corner of the seating area.
|
||||
|
||||
``Would you like anything to drink before we begin?''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan shrugged, ``A tea, perhaps. Too late in the day for coffee, too early for alcohol.''
|
||||
|
||||
Sadiah nodded. Within a minute, a server brought them two steaming cups of a milky tea---chai, it turned out, and quite good, at that.
|
||||
|
||||
Once they'd gotten the obligatory how-are-yous and good-teas and nice-libraries out of the way, Ioan retrieved eir notebook and a pen.
|
||||
|
||||
``Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. Your name came recommended to me by several people. I'm glad to get the chance to talk with an actual historian.''
|
||||
|
||||
Her laugh was clear and bright. ``No, thank \emph{you}, Mx. Bălan. I've been looking forward to the chance to meet you for quite some time now.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey paused partway through unscrewing the cap of eir pen. ``You have?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Oh, yes! I've been following your work since \emph{On the Perils of Memory}, the Ode clade project. You somehow manage to distill quite a bit down into a document that is clear and easy to read.'' She paused, then added, ``Documents, I should say. I was lucky enough to get a chance to read the detailed history as well as the investigative journalism piece.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Really? I had no idea that it had made it out of the clade,'' ey said, posting the cap on the back of the pen. ``I'm pleased to hear that you think so highly of me.''
|
||||
|
||||
She nodded, grinning widely. ``That's why I arranged for us to meet, today. I have lots to talk about, of course, but I wanted to meet you, as well.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan hid an uncomfortable laugh behind a sip of tea. ``I'm flattered. You arranged this?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Yes! I made friends with a few of yours and encouraged them to suggest that we meet.''
|
||||
|
||||
``That is quite a strange thing to do.'' Ey decided to roll with it, scratching out shorthand on eir paper. ``Why did you think to do that?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Oh, because I'm horrible at actually asking for what I really want, and it's easier for me to ensure that things happen my way instead.''
|
||||
|
||||
``That's very\ldots well, honest. Thank you for letting me know, at least. What was the reason you wanted to meet me for, then? Beyond just, as you put it, wanting to meet me.''
|
||||
|
||||
Sadiah sat up straighter in the booth, setting her nearly untouched tea to the side. ``Before I answer that, I need to know how much you know, so that I know where to start. Is that okay?''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey nodded. The whole encounter was so outside eir experience that ey could think of nothing better to do.
|
||||
|
||||
``Stop me when I get to something that you haven't heard or realized yet. Two hundred years ago, the System seceded from the rest of the institutions on Earth. This happened in conjunction with one of the launches for the L\textsubscript{5} station. Secession was organized by the Council of Eight, one of whom was Michelle Hadje, the progenitor of the Ode clade---this is why I was so interested in your work, I'll note. The Ode clade is made up of, nominally, one hundred individual instances, though they occasionally spin off long-running instances and pretend they haven't. The first ten of these instances were created shortly before Secession in order to help handle the workload as Michelle grew tired of her position. With me, so far?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Yes, that sounds correct,'' ey said. Ey figured it was not worth correcting her on the reality of Michelle, of what ey'd seen and heard from May and Dear.
|
||||
|
||||
``Okay.'' Sadiah continued her speech smoothly, sitting almost completely still, as though reciting something from memory. ``The Odists were integral to both Secession and Launch, and may have orchestrated both, each in their own way. I see you frowning, which I'll take to mean that I'm getting close to the limits of where our knowledge agrees.''
|
||||
|
||||
``I suppose, yes. Some of the discussions I've had---my clade has had, I mean---with Odists have brought much of this to light over the past few days.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Excellent. Please stop me when I reach the place when our knowledge diverges. The Ode clade, through managing Secession and Launch, has influenced the politics of the System, such as they are, as well as those on Earth, which--''
|
||||
|
||||
``Okay. This is new to me, and you're also speaking a little too fast for me to keep up. If you are able to, can you slow down?''
|
||||
|
||||
She laughed breathlessly, finally letting her shoulders sag and her chin droop. ``Alright, I'll try. Thank you for reminding me, I get excitable, sometimes.''
|
||||
|
||||
\emph{I could tell,} ey thought.
|
||||
|
||||
``So which part about influencing politics had you not heard before?''
|
||||
|
||||
``The bit about influencing politics phys-side.'' Ey shook eir head, ``Which I'm a little confused about. I suppose I can see how that might work, given the communication between sys- and phys-side during both of those occurrences, but--''
|
||||
|
||||
``I'll note that we're nearing the extent of my knowledge as well. Sorry, I interrupted.'' Despite the acknowledgement, she continued, unfazed. ``All I can say is that I've noticed patterns. I think you have, too, as mentioned when you frowned, but I am starting to piece together patterns that go beyond that. Yes, they helped with Secession, yes they helped with Launch---more than helped, organized---but that, I think, includes subtle manipulation of politics planet-side in order to ensure that both happened precisely as they wanted.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Where are you seeing that?''
|
||||
|
||||
She cocked her head to the side and waved an arm expansively above the two of them. ``It's all there, Mx. Bălan. The news that we received from phys-side shows some of the same patterns that we also see sys-side. The hesitant gestures toward a project, which are suddenly rapidly and smoothly moving forward. You must understand, projects like this do not move smoothly on their own, nor do they change the speed at which they move without some outside influence. That is why we speak of momentum and inertia when it comes to projects as well as forces, yes?''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey realized that ey hadn't been writing anything, so ey focused momentarily on jotting some of this information while Sadiah wasn't speaking. Finally, ey said, ``How do you picture this influence working?''
|
||||
|
||||
``I don't know.''
|
||||
|
||||
``I can see how the right words in the right ears might help smooth things along, at least. Do you think that might be enough to lead to these changes you're talking about?''
|
||||
|
||||
``I don't know,'' she repeated, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
|
||||
|
||||
``Say that the Odists have managed to have a hand in both Secession and Launch,'' ey continued. Ey did not smile. ``What does that get them? What is their motivation?''
|
||||
|
||||
``I don't know.'' She was smiling in earnest now.
|
||||
|
||||
``And,'' ey said, realizing that eir frustration was showing, but was unable to stop it. ``What impact does that have on us? Or on Earth?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Mx. Bălan,'' she said, laughing. ``I don't know. I don't know! Isn't that exciting in and of itself? I don't know, and that means that we have something interesting to work on. There are patterns here, as you acknowledge, and they may go deeper, or they may not, but that gives us a direction to look, doesn't it? It gives us direction to our questions, doesn't it? You've been asking why people have been staying or leaving. Your cocladists have been asking the same on the launches, I imagine. Those are good questions for boring histories. This is a tenuous question for exciting histories!''
|
||||
|
||||
She was waving her arms around now, and the volume of her voice had steadily increased. Ioan was happy for the cone of silence that came with the booth.
|
||||
|
||||
``Sadiah, I must ask you to both slow down and lower your voice again,'' ey said, as calm as ey could manage. ``I'm having a hard time keeping up and the shouting is making me anxious.''
|
||||
|
||||
Startled, she let her shoulders slouch and chin dip once more. ``Sorry, Mx. Bălan. Thank you for reminding me again. I don't like touch, you don't like loud noises. \emph{Quid pro quo.}''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey didn't think that's quite what that meant. That, or if she did mean it as an actual this-for-that exchange, she was on far more levels of manipulation than ey was comfortable with. This arranged meeting was closer to the Odists' manipulation as she'd described than perhaps even she realized.
|
||||
|
||||
``Humor me in at least a few of the questions. Why are you here on the System? If you are also on the LVs, why remain here as well?''
|
||||
|
||||
``If the patterns are also showing up planet-side, why on Earth would I leave?'' she said, laughing. ``Pardon the expression.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Okay.'' Ey let the answer flow onto the page in eir shorthand. ``And why did you upload in the first place?''
|
||||
|
||||
Sadiah sat back suddenly as though slapped, blinking rapidly and tapping at the table anxiously. ``I\ldots I don't know.''
|
||||
|
||||
``You don't?''
|
||||
|
||||
``I really don't,'' she said. She was talking slow and quiet now. Her expression was as scared as her voice was. ``I don't know, I don't know.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Do you remember when, at least?''
|
||||
|
||||
``2295, but I don't know why.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Alright. I feel like I've touched a nerve, for which I apologize. What do you miss most about living phys-side, and what excited you most about moving sys-side?''
|
||||
|
||||
At this, the historian---if that's what she was---relaxed. ``I was fundamentally unhappy with the limitation of time and just how much research I could do at once, so I came to where I could fork.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey nodded and jotted down the answer. ``And, last one, what's the first thing that you did after uploading?''
|
||||
|
||||
``I don't\ldots I don't know.'' She looked to be on the verge of tears.
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan held up eir hands disarmingly. ``Let's end the interview here, I think. I've clearly set you on edge, and you've given me a lot to think about. Is it alright if I get to work on processing this?''
|
||||
|
||||
She nodded meekly. The shift in her attitude was so jarring that eir anxiety only spiked higher. This went beyond touching a nerve; it was as though her whole script collapsed and, with it, her sense of self.
|
||||
|
||||
\vspace{1pt}
|
||||
|
||||
``If I have any further questions, I'll be in touch,'' ey said, sliding out of eir seat in the booth, capping eir pen in the same motion. After a moment's pause, ey added, ``And I'd like to ask that you respect my boundaries and not try to engineer another meeting between us, okay? I think that would just stress the both of us out.''
|
||||
|
||||
\vspace{1.5pt}
|
||||
|
||||
Another nod, and then Sadiah either left the sim or quit. Ioan couldn't tell which, because ey was already heading for the exit of the building.
|
||||
|
||||
\vspace{2pt}
|
||||
|
||||
Back at eir house, ey kicked off eir shoes, set eir half completed notes on eir desk, and immediately walked into the bedroom to lay down.
|
||||
|
||||
\vspace{2pt}
|
||||
|
||||
May, ever attuned to eir mood, immediately forked and followed em to the room. ``Ioan?''
|
||||
|
||||
\vspace{2pt}
|
||||
|
||||
Ey paused, halfway onto the bed.
|
||||
|
||||
\vspace{2pt}
|
||||
|
||||
``May I join you?''
|
||||
|
||||
\vspace{2pt}
|
||||
|
||||
Ey thought about all of the things Sadiah had said, all of the things ey'd learned about the Odists these last few however many weeks, both on eir own and through eir communications with the Codrins. Ey thought about all of the ways in which, whether or not they were true, this spoke to a level of manipulation that ey'd not suspected before. Ey thought, also, about how truly caught up in it ey was.\pagebreak
|
||||
|
||||
And then ey nodded anyway, finished crawling into bed, and let May play with eir hair as ey rested eir head on her lap.
|
||||
|
||||
Ey felt helpless to do anything but.
|
||||
215
toledot/content/launch/sys/Ioan/009.tex
Normal file
215
toledot/content/launch/sys/Ioan/009.tex
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,215 @@
|
||||
\hypertarget{ioan-bux103lan-2325}{%
|
||||
\chapter{Ioan Bălan — 2325}\label{ioan-bux103lan-2325}}
|
||||
|
||||
If, Ioan thought, there was a version of Dear's sim---that sprawling, unending shortgrass prairie---that had existed to perfect trees instead of grass, it was this place.
|
||||
|
||||
May had told em that Serene had designed this sim, just as she had Dear's prairie. In that sense, it felt much the same; if Serene had any hallmarks of design, it seemed to be a focus on wind and weather, an unerring attention to plant life, and a fondness for the fractal textures of the ground. It was easy enough to design with right angles, flat planes, level ground. As building was something more akin to daydreaming, it was natural landscapes that were the hard ones to get the tiny details correct.
|
||||
|
||||
It was no surprise that this sim had been designed for another Odist. Where Dear had fallen in love with the endless prairie and Michelle the flowing fields of dandelion dotted grass, Do I Know God After The End Waking had fallen in love with trees.
|
||||
|
||||
When ey first arrived, ey had done so outside of a smallish A-frame building, more tent than anything, for it was built of rough-hewn planks set into the classical shape with an oiled canvas draped over it to create the walls. Even the floor was made of those rough planks, though much of it appeared to have been worn smooth after countless years of foot---or paw---traffic.
|
||||
|
||||
Peeking inside revealed a simple cot made of more canvas stretched over a frame and a pillow of some sort of bundle, a battered roll-top desk with a low stool in front of it (Ioan found emself desperately wanting something similar upon seeing them), and a small wood-burning stove in the back where the far wall had been created using rammed earth instead of more canvas.
|
||||
|
||||
Ey immediately fell in love with it, and hoped that ey'd like End Waking well enough to visit again.
|
||||
|
||||
He was nowhere to be seen, though. The rundown of his appearance from May was of a skunk like herself, male, and ``heavily committed to the ranger aesthetic. Cloak, hatchet, bow, the works''.
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan sat on the steps in front of the tent and waited, hoping perhaps that ey had simply arrived too early for the scheduled meeting. It was a pleasant wait, at least, and a welcome break from the increasing tension that ey had been feeling within as more and more information about the Odists had come to light. Eir own interviews, as well as news from the Codrins and Dears had left em anxious more often than not, and even though ey did eir best to keep that feeling away from eir interactions with May, there was still no denying that she was an Odist as well.
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk's arrival was something of a surprise, as what ey had initially taken to be one of those wandering breezes fingering ferns and branches slowly resolved into a humanoid form walking silently between the trees.
|
||||
|
||||
``Mx. Bălan,'' the form murmured, tugging back the hood that hid most of its face to reveal the familiar white-striped black snout. ``Sorry for keeping you waiting. I was exploring.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan stood and bowed politely. ``No problem. Exploring, though? I would've thought that you'd know the area around your home fairly well by now.''
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk smiled. His features were undeniably those of an Odist---at least those of the skunk variety---while still being unique. They were more masculine in a way that ey could not place. More rugged. Dirtier. Certainly more exhausted. ``One never truly finishes exploring a forest. I was climbing the trees.''
|
||||
|
||||
``That sounds enjoyable, at least.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Not at all.'' He laughed. ``I am terrified of heights.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Then why--''
|
||||
|
||||
``Exploring is a process that is also the goal. Why not undertake that process fully? Surely you know that of us by now.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey grinned, nodding. ``I suppose I do, at that. Either way, it's nice to meet you.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Nice to meet you, as well. I would shake your hand, but I am currently quite disgusting.'' He brushed crushed leaves off his arms and the backs of his paws. ``Come, though. I will clean up and make us some tea.''
|
||||
|
||||
This process took nearly half an hour, during which ey had to remind emself that there was no rush, no reason to hurry. Ey sat on the edge of End Waking's cot while the skunk puttered around the tent, doffing his cloak to leave him in a greenish-brown tunic and canvas leggings that were a brown so dark as to be almost black. He set about filling a small basin with water in which to wash his paws. This used up the last of the water inside, so he had to step out and collect some more from a barrel just outside the door, run it through a cloth filter into a battered kettle, which was set on the stove. The embers had apparently burnt low, so he then had to go collect an armful of firewood from beneath one of the `eaves' of the tent where it was kept dry and then stoke the fire back up to an intense blaze using some complex set of steps that Ioan could never have understood. Finding the promised tea had required digging through the creaky drawers of the desk to find the fist-sized crock of various dried leaves.
|
||||
|
||||
``Lemon balm, mint, and dried gooseberry. I am sorry that I cannot offer anything more exciting. Tea does not grow here.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan laughed. ``I've never had either lemon balm or gooseberry, so it sounds exciting to me. It certainly smells delightful.''
|
||||
|
||||
End Waking beamed at the compliment, and shortly had dug out two enamel camp mugs, blown the dust free from the less-used one, and then tipped a small amount of tea into the bottoms of each. ``You will have to strain it through your teeth. I do not have a teapot either. The ingredients are all edible on their own, though, so I usually just wind up eating them.''
|
||||
|
||||
The whole experience was so delightfully out of place for all of the Odists ey had met so far that Ioan was rapt.
|
||||
|
||||
At the end of the extended tea-making procedure, ey was left with a steaming mug of slowly darkening tea, leaves of mint and melissa floating to the top while broken chunks of gooseberry sunk to the bottom. It smelled wonderful, a type of fragrance that immediately made em feel comfortable and soothed.
|
||||
|
||||
\emph{If May's clade exists to shape the minds and emotions of people,} ey thought. \emph{He's doing an admirable job.}
|
||||
|
||||
``We will sit and talk for a bit, though I must warn you that I get antsy very easily and will likely request that we walk after we finish our tea.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Alright,'' ey said. ``I usually write notes on the interviews, but I'm sure I'll remember just fine.''
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk gave em an unreadable expression, then nodded. ``Right, yes. That whole business. Where do you wish to start?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Well, I've got some fairly standard questions that I've been asking everyone, then we can get to the more meaty stuff. If we have time afterwards, I'd like to ask you more about this,'' ey said, gesturing around at the tent, out the still-open flap.
|
||||
|
||||
``I will look forward to that, then. It sounds like you have a shit sandwich for me, anyhow.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan laughed. ``I'd not heard that term until May used it. I like it.''
|
||||
|
||||
End Waking grinned toothily.
|
||||
|
||||
After taking another sip of the tisane and chewing on the resulting leaves, ey asked, ``You're obviously still here on the L\textsubscript{5} System, but did you send a fork along on the LVs?''
|
||||
|
||||
He shook his head. ``I did not. I am sure you will ask more about why as the questioning goes on, but for now, I'll say that there are some intraclade politics that left a sour taste in my mouth about the whole thing.''
|
||||
|
||||
``If you're ever uncomfortable with a question, feel free to tell me you'd not like to answer.''
|
||||
|
||||
End Waking nodded.
|
||||
|
||||
``Were you involved in Launch at all? Was that part of the politics?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Ioan, I was promised a shit-sandwich, but so far it is an open-faced one,'' he said, laughing to take the sting out of the words. ``I did not. And, to preempt your next question, I had not yet been forked during Secession, so I did not take part in that, either. I was forked a few decades after Secession.''
|
||||
|
||||
``May I ask why?''
|
||||
|
||||
``You may, but give me a moment to consider my answer.''
|
||||
|
||||
That moment was spent sipping tea in silence, only the muffled crackling of the fire in the stove and the breeze testing at the flaps of the tent.
|
||||
|
||||
Eventually, the skunk spoke up once more. ``From what May Then My Name and others have said, the Bălan clade and the elements of the Ode clade working with them have already reached certain bits of knowledge, so I will be up front about this.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan nodded.
|
||||
|
||||
``I was forked in order to help influence financial policies phys-side to encourage certain attitudes toward the System, such as the subsidizing of uploading.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan attempted to keep eir face impassive, but ey must have let some of eir reaction show, as End Waking laughed tiredly.
|
||||
|
||||
``I am sorry. I am not proud of what I did, and that is why I am here and not out in the world, bowing to the whims of my down-tree instances and their interests. My role was taken over by a member of the Jonas clade.''
|
||||
|
||||
``I've heard that name several times so far. He's on my list to interview.''
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk sighed, nodded, sipped his tea. ``I suppose he is.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Do you have any suggestions for what to ask him?''
|
||||
|
||||
``No.~He will control the interview from start to finish. I am told that one of your cocladists has already interviewed True Name. If she learned from anyone, it was Jonas. There is no hope of trying to own the interview, no need to try and guide the questions.''
|
||||
|
||||
``I'll admit that I'm starting to feel in over my head.''
|
||||
|
||||
End Waking raised his mug toward em in a toast. ``We all are, Ioan. Only, you and precious few others realize that now.''
|
||||
|
||||
``So, I guess for my next question, What does it mean that you influenced the finances phys-side?''
|
||||
|
||||
``It was largely a matter of politicking. Strings to pull, ears to whisper into, suggestions made on both the governmental and DDR level. We played them like a finely-tuned instrument, the Odists and the Jonas clade. I would have long, serious talks with politicians; longer, more fun talks with DDR junkies, bless their stupid, stupid hearts. I coordinated with others to help influence sentiment here sys-side, encouraging people to write home and suggest to their families that they consider all of this in a way that aligned with our goals.''
|
||||
|
||||
``What were your goals?''
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk finished his tea and spent a moment fishing all of the leaves and berries from the bottom of his mug to the rim so that he could eat them, as promised. It meant a moment of downtime, during which Ioan sipped eir own tea.
|
||||
|
||||
Sitting back and curling his tail absentmindedly into his lap to brush it free of leaves and twigs, End Waking said, ``Short term, to lower the cost of uploading and make it seem ever more appealing. Middle-term, the goal was to pass the legislation that led to several governments paying families when an individual uploaded. It started as a sort of subsidy for the lost income, and I think some locales still think of it that way, but it quickly turned into an incentive. Did you have any siblings, Ioan?''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey nodded.
|
||||
|
||||
``And were you the eldest?''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey frowned, nodded again.
|
||||
|
||||
``We planted an idea, a subtle one, that it might be a good idea for the eldest child to upload and use the payout to fund a better life for the other children.''
|
||||
|
||||
``I never heard anyone--''
|
||||
|
||||
``This is what I mean by subtle. It was not something anyone really talked about. It was simply a convention that formed over time, and for everyone who followed it, the idea seemed to come to them of their own accord.''
|
||||
|
||||
``But it didn't. It came from you.''
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk winced. ``Yes, it came from me.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan sighed and, seeing nowhere else to put it, set eir mug on the floor by the bed.
|
||||
|
||||
``I feel compelled to repeat that I am not at all proud of what I did. This--'' He gestured around. ``This is my penance. I live my life in solitude in a place that does not know money, does not know the subtle machinations of politics, and should either of those enter, would not care one bit about them. People think of forests as fragile areas of land, and while this is true, they are also giant---truly enormous---singular entities that do not give a single, solitary fuck about you and your schemes, your thoughts, or your emotions. I have stumbled into ravines. I have had dead branches fall on me. I have gotten caught in land-slides, mud-slides, and flash-floods. I have learned the hard way which plants are safe to eat. I have bled on the land.'' There was a long pause before he continued, ``I hesitate to say that the forest hates me, but it comes perilously close. This is my penance.''
|
||||
|
||||
They sat in silence for several long minutes while Ioan digested this and End Waking did whatever it was that the penitent architect of eir entire existence here on the System did. Repent, perhaps, but what did that mean in the face of such enormity?
|
||||
|
||||
``Let's walk,'' Ioan finally said.
|
||||
|
||||
End Waking visibly brightened and nodded. There was a small unwinding of the previous ritual, where the fire within the stove was banked, the mugs rinsed clean and replaced in their spot, and his cloak donned once more.
|
||||
|
||||
They stepped out into the cool, clean air of the onrushing evening, and the skunk led the writer along a narrow trail worn in the undergrowth, explaining, ``This is the way that I take to get water when the rain-barrel is empty.''
|
||||
|
||||
He walked silently, thick tail held high enough to stay above the plants that lined the path, and while Ioan tried to be as graceful as ey could, ey was still a far sight clumsier and noisier than End Waking.
|
||||
|
||||
``Why do you like this place?'' ey asked. ``If it's close to hating you, I mean.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Do you remember the stanza of your cocladist's parter?''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan dredged up the Ode that was the basis for all of their names and recited slowly:
|
||||
|
||||
\begin{quote}
|
||||
That which lives is forever praiseworthy,\\
|
||||
for they, knowing not, provide life in death.\\
|
||||
Dear the wheat and rye under the stars:\\
|
||||
serene; sustained and sustaining.\\
|
||||
Dear, also, the tree that was felled\\
|
||||
which offers heat and warmth in fire.\\
|
||||
What praise we give we give by consuming,\\
|
||||
what gifts we give we give in death,\\
|
||||
what lives we lead we lead in memory,\\
|
||||
and the end of memory lies beneath the roots.
|
||||
\end{quote}
|
||||
|
||||
End Waking nodded. He murmured, ``I sometimes\ldots no, I often think that I belong to the wrong stanza. This is where I belong. I like her plenty and do not begrudge her the name that she owns, but I wish, sometimes, that I was named And The End Of Memory Lies Beneath The Roots.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan looked around at the trees, the ferns, the carpets of periwinkle and spots of mint and horsepepper and balm, the epiphytes climbing trunks, the moss on stumps.
|
||||
|
||||
``I do not think that the author of the Ode meant literally,'' the skunk said, laughing. ``But you share my views on it. While it is not strictly possible on the System, I do hope that one day, the end of memory, that memory of all that I did, lies dead beneath the roots.''
|
||||
|
||||
A few minutes of silent walking followed as Ioan was guided through a section of, yes, thick roots that threatened to entangle eir feet.
|
||||
|
||||
Once they were past that, he continued. ``It is important to me that there be something other than politics in the world. I spent so much of my existence shaping the world around me to some grand scheme. Now that I am completely and utterly beholden to the world in turn, it feels relaxing, freeing.''
|
||||
|
||||
``May said something like that,'' Ioan said, panting. ``That there was freedom in staying behind in a world where not staying behind is the default.''
|
||||
|
||||
``May Then My Name is the only one of my entire stanza that I like, and certainly the only one that I trust.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan smiled, nodded.
|
||||
|
||||
``So many of the Odists are built to manipulate in such complex ways. It is all part of theatre. I am sure that you two have talked about that already. Even May Then My Name is manipulative in her unfailingly kind way.'' The skunk stopped and stepped aside to let Ioan come stand beside him before a creek at the bottom of a ravine. ``It is a very difficult habit to break. Serene is manipulative: this place is built to be loved in spite of its antipathy towards intrusions. Dear is manipulative: its life is one lived bending the experiences of others to its whims in ways far beyond any those of any prior artist as it plays its games. I am a repentant manipulator.''
|
||||
|
||||
``How so?'' ey asked.
|
||||
|
||||
End Waking laughed. ``Are you impressed with my earnestness? I hope that you are, because I strive to be earnest. Are you impressed with the silence with which I move through the landscape? I hope that you are, it is borne from practice. Were you amused by the absent-minded way that I made tea? The way I just puttered around, doing this, then that, as though I kept remembering that I needed first wood, then water, then mugs?''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan tilted eir head. ``I suppose. It was endearing.''
|
||||
|
||||
``A clever ruse left over from long habit. It is a way to be likeable.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Doesn't everyone want to be likeable, though?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Yes. It is a matter of intent, I suppose.'' He gave a lopsided grin and bumped his shoulder against Ioan's. ``But I am being a mopey little shit. Thank you for humoring me.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan laughed. ``Of course. It was still a nice conversation, even if it was a stressful topic. And it's a beautiful place to talk, and a beautiful walk.''
|
||||
|
||||
End Waking nodded. ``That it is. I never get tired of it. I wonder if it is still penance if one enjoys it.''
|
||||
|
||||
``I suppose it can be. It still sounds difficult.''
|
||||
|
||||
``It is that, too.'' He leaned down and plucked yellow-green berries from a bush, gathering a small pawful to give to Ioan. ``Gooseberries for May Then My Name. Did you have any more questions for me?''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan frowned and accepted the handful of berries carefully, slipping them into a pocket of eir vest after unbuttoning it so that ey would not squish them. ``Um, one more, though I am conscious of all the warnings I've received about not pushing any one Odist hard enough that they'll resent me.''
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk smiled. ``I will not resent you, Ioan. I am trying to shake that habit, and I like you. I just may not answer.''
|
||||
|
||||
Feeling strangely bashful at the compliment, ey shrugged. ``Just that you mentioned your short- and mid-term goals for meddling with finances. What were the long-term goals?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Critical mass.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Critical mass? What do you mean?''
|
||||
|
||||
There was a long silence before, rather than answering, End Waking took Ioan by the elbow and guided em back to the trail. ``Let us get you back so that the berries are still fresh for May Then My Name.''
|
||||
170
toledot/content/launch/sys/Ioan/010.tex
Normal file
170
toledot/content/launch/sys/Ioan/010.tex
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,170 @@
|
||||
\hypertarget{ioan-bux103lan-2325}{%
|
||||
\chapter{Ioan Bălan — 2325}\label{ioan-bux103lan-2325}}
|
||||
|
||||
Before eir scheduled interview, Ioan took a walk around that abandoned lake, this time by emself. Ey needed a moment to think, and that moment, though through no fault of hers, needed to be away from May.
|
||||
|
||||
Ey needed to do what ey was best at. Thinking, ruminating, disentangling the knotted strands of what eir thoughts were so that ey might begin to comprehend the truth about them.
|
||||
|
||||
These knots were angry ones.
|
||||
|
||||
Or, perhaps not angry. They were frustrating ones. They were knots that ey knew the technical reasons for existing, but was starting to nonetheless resent. They were knots that bound and limited the process with which ey learned. They were as frustrating as the recondite letters that Qoheleth had sent so often, so long ago. Little hints and clues and never exactly the complete answer all at once. Never an explanation that allowed for further questions. Always too little, as though ey (and, at the time, Dear) was being strung along, lured into some unknown trap.
|
||||
|
||||
The same thing was happening now. Ey understood the technical reasons for no one, single Odist answering all of the questions ey had, ey and eir clade. There were too many emotions, too much secrecy, or too much shame bound up in the answers for them to sit down and tell a story from start to finish. None of them would admit to any more than one single thing throughout each interview, instead relying on the agreed upon admonition to stop when requested or warning that, after a certain point, the Odist would lie to or resent the Bălan.
|
||||
|
||||
Ey was half tempted to push one of them past that point, but then ey wouldn't know what bit was true or not.
|
||||
|
||||
And these Jonases! Ey was going to see one today, after eir walk. They seemed so slippery. It was not just that they controlled the interview, though ey did not doubt that---the transcript from Codrin\#Castor contained a new twist every time ey reread it. It was that they knew so thoroughly that they were doing so that they did it all with a wink and a smile. That little hint that ey was to know that all they'd done was so clearly calculated yet held so much plausible deniability that there really was no arguing with it.
|
||||
|
||||
Ey was not looking forward to eir interview with Jonas Prime today.
|
||||
|
||||
So, instead, ey stomped along the path and thought and talked to emself, walking all the way to the rock halfway around the lake from the default entry point to the sim, throwing a few handfuls of stones into the placid water one by one, and then stomping all the way back to that same point.
|
||||
|
||||
Once ey'd had eir sulk, ey headed to the meeting with Jonas.
|
||||
|
||||
Unexpectedly, this turned out to be at the same library at which ey had interviewed Sadiah. Not only that, but Jonas Prime was standing in exactly the same spot that she had been standing in, greeted em with much the same bow that the other historian had, and led em to the exact same booth in the cafe-\emph{cum}-bar beneath the stacks. It was uncanny to such a degree as to immediately put em on the defensive, guarding against some threat, real or imagined.
|
||||
|
||||
Once again, the drinks were ordered---cocktails, this time---and the cone of silence fell. Jonas rested his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his folded hands. It was an incredibly charming look. ``Mx. Bălan, so nice to meet you at last.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Have you heard that much about me, then?'' Ey did eir best to keep eir smile as earnest as possible.
|
||||
|
||||
``Oh, of course! You and your clade have been traipsing all over the place, interviewing some of my favorite people, and every one of them says that the Bălans are an utter delight to talk with.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey kept the smile in place. ``I'm happy to hear that. I know that questions can get a bit tiring, so I try to make it a pleasant process, at least. If at any point you need to take a break or stop, just let me know.''
|
||||
|
||||
Jonas waved away the comment as though there existed no reality where so nice a scholar could ever tire him out. ``I'm excited to see what it is you have for me. Ask away!''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan nodded and pulled out eir pen and papers. Ey spent a moment poking through the stable of questions that ey'd been asking anyone, frowned, and then flipped to a blank page. ``I had a set that I was thinking of asking you, but I think I'm actually going to go off script here. My first question surrounds something that Codrin\#Pollux heard by an Odist. I know you aren't one, but I'm hoping that you can shed some light on it.''
|
||||
|
||||
``I'll do my best, of course. I'd tell you to ask one of them, but I doubt you'd get a straight answer, which I suspect you already know.''
|
||||
|
||||
``And you'll give me straight answers?''
|
||||
|
||||
Jonas grinned. ``Best I can, sure.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Alright, then. After Why Ask Questions told Codrin that True Name was to instigate and manage the launch project, ey asked what she meant by that. She responded that the last thing that Michelle had done before she died was to give each of the stanzas a mission, and that True Name's mission was to, and I'm quoting here, ``Do something big, help us divest''. Given your proximity to True Name, can you clarify what she meant? What does it mean to divest?''
|
||||
|
||||
He laughed heartily and lifted his tall glass, saying, ``To boldness! And here I was expecting you to ask if I'd invested in the launch or whatever. That is an incredible first question.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan hesitated, then lifted eir own glass to return the toast. ``To boldness. You have it, I need it.''
|
||||
|
||||
``I have too much, my friend, and you need more, that's all.'' Jonas winked, then continued, ``So, divest. The reason that's an interesting question is that's the word that immediately sold me when True Name came to me with that suggestion. It was the lynchpin on which the project was hung, and we built outward from there.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey scribbled quickly in eir shorthand, doing eir best to take down verbatim what Jonas was saying. Ey'd be able to remember, for sure, but through writing, ey might better process and use what time ey had with the founder while ey had the chance.
|
||||
|
||||
``It could've meant so many things,'' he was saying. ``It could've meant just, ``clone the System and leave a copy at the Earth-Sun L\textsubscript{5} point''. It could've meant, ``break the physical elements of the System up into much smaller ones and scatter them around so that damage to one did not beggar the others''. Both of those are still on the table, by the way.
|
||||
|
||||
``We took it in another way, however, given news that we've been reaching from Earth. In particular, we were noticing a tendency to move from the excesses of capitalism back to the day-to-day hardships of feudalism and even, in some cases, subsistence farming. The problem, I'm sure you can imagine, is that when you're stuck being a peasant or scraping by to earn the most meager living, you aren't all that keen on space. It's only by dint of a few dreamers and the impossibility of retrieving it that the System remains up here in the first place.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan nodded. ``One of our interviewees phys-side said much the same thing.''
|
||||
|
||||
``A dreamer, then,'' Jonas said, grinning. ``But yes, life down there is horrible and no one---or essentially no one---wants to do a single damn thing about it. They're all so caught up in their little political games that they have no interest on doing anything to make their lives better, to live stronger.''
|
||||
|
||||
``You don't sound very fond of them.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Of course I am! I love every one of them for the delightfully stupid contradictions that they are, in the same way that one can both love and be disgusted by humanity as a whole. I'm just a pessimist, Ioan. You mustn't confuse pessimism with disdain. I can read the signs as well as any other, and I don't see them willing to do anything at all to do what life demands.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan lifted eir pen from the page and looked up at Jonas. ``What life demands?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Life all but demands more life. That's why those stupid contradictions back planet-side won't stop having children. Oh, we played them for that, of course. You learned that from End Waking, yes? We played on their desire to keep on fucking because\ldots what was it, Life Breeds Life? It does. There's no way around it.''
|
||||
|
||||
``It seems to me like you've stated a contradiction,'' ey said. ``You said that they aren't willing to do what life demands, then said that they keep procreating as life demands. Is that what you meant?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Let me clarify. There's more to what life demands than just breeding. There is a level of intentionality required. In order for breeding to be effective, it has to have the right level of pressure put upon it. When breeding goes unchecked, you end up with an uncontrollable morass of life-stuff, and when that happens, you're more likely to run into systems running out of control, whether those are political systems, social systems, or even technological systems. Do you know why the race towards developing a true artificial intelligence stopped around the time of Secession?''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan shook eir head.
|
||||
|
||||
Jonas's smile returned. ``Because we didn't want it. That's not the right pressure on life that we want. It offers too much risk to existing life, whether biological or uploaded. So, we pulled our strings, as you know we do, and ensured that interest in such projects dropped in favor of others. Better expert systems. Better integrations tech. Better entertainment.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Wait, how is AI a threat to the System?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Of what use is the System to an artificial intelligence? It can't join us. It can't control us directly. There's only one way for it to put pressure on us to do any one thing, and that's to influence life phys-side, just as we've done, to convince them not to upload. The best we can ever hope from an AI is it ignoring us and letting us continue. The best we can expect should it not ignore us is a stalemate. A cold war.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey frowned as ey noted that on eir rapidly filling page. ``Is there no way for an AI's goals to align with the System's?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Perhaps there is, but remember,'' he said, poking his thumb back towards his chest. ``Pessimist. It fails the cost-benefit analysis. Not worth the risk.''
|
||||
|
||||
``So, instead you decided to ensure that phys-side and the System continued their symbiotic relationship?''
|
||||
|
||||
``The part of me which has moved beyond pessimism and into disillusionment wants to sigh and say, ``symbiotic is too kind a way to put it,'' but even I don't think that's true. We need them in order to continue growing, and they need us as something to dream about.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Alright,'' Ioan said, dropping the line of questioning before it got too far from the few others ey still wanted to ask. ``So it was decided that the launch was a good way to ensure that the System divested because it moved beyond what it was.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Yep!'' Jonas took a sip of his drink and grinned. ``We decided on off-site backups as a form of risk management. They're not totally safe, of course, and they are, in their own ways, doomed. They'll eventually get caught in too eccentric an orbit around a star and burn up when they get too close, but until then, the lives that are lived within continue, secure. More than that, it gives them time to figure out if there's a way to ensure that sys-side life does as life will and expand in a way that isn't just forking. A pipe dream, perhaps, but a nice one.''
|
||||
|
||||
``So you and True Name steered the launch project into existence to help that along.'' When Jonas nodded, ey continued, ``Just as you did with Secession, yes?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Yeah. We used our elements phys-side to ensure that Secession happened. One of them came up with the idea, but we spun it to be as much in our advantage as theirs. We used Yared, as I believe you know, but we also used many, many others out there. It led us to a much more stable place in the world.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Speaking of, one your clade told one of mine that there are complex thoughts on stability and stasis. I just want to confirm that I'm understanding correctly. Launch fits into your concept of stasis by ensuring continuity.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Sure, but also, a little bit of excitement is required to ensure that our lives stay boring. Even if our lives become too interesting, or Castor's lives become interesting, or Pollux's, then there is a better than good chance that at least one of the others' will remain boring, just how we want it. No Jonas, was it? He probably called it `gardening', which I like. We're tending topiary, here, and there are many of us over on each of the launches, doing the same.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan nodded and paused to drink down a third of eir cocktail. Ey was thirsty, of course, but some part of em seemed to be craving the numbing aspects of alcohol. Ey continued, ``Alright, I think I have two more questions. The first is that End Waking said that there were goals to influence the economies phys-side and explained that there were short term, medium term, and long term goals. He was kind enough to fill me in on the first two, but not the third. Can you tell me what the long term goals of meddling with the economy phys-side were? He said something about critical mass.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Oh, that's an easy one,'' Jonas said. ``It's basically the same as what I said about life. If life is to have the right level of constraining pressures on it, one of the easiest ways to do so is through the economy. The long-term goal of his `meddling', as you put it, was to ensure the continuity of capitalism. It gives something for people to dream about: alternatives. It gives something for people to work against. Since they know that we moved past scarcity up here, they have plenty dream about. The critical mass is the amount of money and participants required to turn this into a self-sustaining system.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Simple enough, I guess, even if a little frightening in its implications.''
|
||||
|
||||
``What implications are those, Ioan?''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey frowned. ``What it sounds like your goals are is to keep life on Earth from getting too nice. Or nice at all, really. It sounds like you're keeping the pressures high so that the System continues. More than continues, even. You wanted to keep it desirable as the greener grass on the other side of the fence.''
|
||||
|
||||
``And how is that frightening?'' Jonas laughed. ``The grass \emph{is} greener. We give them something to reach for. What more could anyone want out of life than a goal?''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan kept from speaking up about what ey'd heard from those ey had interviewed who had uploaded for the money, about those they'd left behind, that whiff of eugenics. Instead, ey asked. ``Alright, last question for now. Two-parter. One of my clade interviewed someone who mentioned that there was some dissension with your clade about whether to go ahead with Launch. Is that true?''
|
||||
|
||||
Jonas shook his head, swallowing the last sip of his drink before saying, ``There might have appeared to be, but I guarantee you that that was manufactured. Having some highly visible folks argue about whether or not it was a good idea gets everyone interested.''
|
||||
|
||||
``And the Dreamer Modules?''
|
||||
|
||||
For the first time in the interview, for the first time since ey'd met Jonas---the first time any Bălan had met any Jonas, if Codrin\#Castor was correct---he frowned. ``You've been asking plenty of interesting questions, Ioan, but this is the first you've asked that is actively uncomfortable.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan waited.
|
||||
|
||||
The grin returned, playful this time. ``Alright, have it your way! You historians, I'll never get it. Do you know what's on the Modules?''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey thought back. ``Research stuff. Telescopes, measurement devices, that sort of thing. Codrin said that ey got to lay in a field and look up at the stars as they really were outside the LV---or at least as close as the sim would let them be.''
|
||||
|
||||
``And?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Isn't there some broadcast continually playing? Something about prime numbers. Something to get aliens to get curious about Earth.''
|
||||
|
||||
Jonas's grin turned icy. ``No, not Earth, Ioan. The System.''
|
||||
|
||||
``The L\textsubscript{5} System? Or those on the LVs?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Space is unfathomably big, Mx. Bălan. Stupendously big. There is absolutely no way that aliens, as you put it, would care about Earth or the solar system. There's no reason to come here. There's no reason for them to even bother with something so pitiful as us.'' The grin was edging into a smirk, now, and Ioan couldn't tell quite what it meant. Jonas continued, ``No, the LV Systems. There is the broadcast to get extraterrestrial intelligences interested in the LVs, yes, but that's not all. There's a very precise set of instructions for how the System works, how the Ansible works, and an Ansible receiver. The same one used for uploading to the LVs.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan blinked and sat up straighter. ``I don't remember hearing anything about that.''
|
||||
|
||||
``We clamped down on the knowledge as best we could as soon as we realized we wouldn't be able to rule it out.'' Jonas waved his hand. ``Not important, though, because the last part of that package is a complete description of a human neural system and a basic description of our physiology. A complete map of our DNA, should they even want to build an entire human.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Whose DNA?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Why, our very own Douglas Hadje! Who else? Blame True Name for that one.'' He laughed bitterly. ``But that's all that they could ever want to build a Douglas Hadje in simulation and send it through the Ansible to the attached System. It'd wind up in a dead zone, a locked-down sim, we made sure of that, but it'd be able to communicate, and enough people on that System know enough about the System that it might figure out how to break free of that restriction.''
|
||||
|
||||
``That sounds rather exciting though,'' Ioan said. ``Why were you so against it?''
|
||||
|
||||
``How much have we talked about risk tonight, Ioan?''
|
||||
|
||||
``You're saying that it presents too great a risk to the continuity of the LV System?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Ioan, you are very smart, but I need you to keep up if you're going to come away with interesting answers. Think through the list of instructions that I mentioned.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey tilted eir head, then frowned. ``There's an Ansible on there, you said, right? They could theoretically upload that same manufactured construct to this System, right? Or all three?''
|
||||
|
||||
Jonas nodded. ``There we go. There's nothing to stop them from doing so, after all. It's easy enough for them to figure out that these are probes, and that probes must be coming from somewhere. There's no reason, then, for them not to find that somewhere and blast out constructs in our direction. We're taking steps now to match those new Hadjes to dump them in a similar locked-down sim. We'll ask our questions, then terminate them.''
|
||||
|
||||
``What about \emph{the} Douglas Hadje?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Oh, he'll be allowed. This is the least risky place for him to be, after all. He knows far too much to remain phys-side. But he'll be the last Douglas Hadje permitted.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan sighed, finished eir drink in a few big gulps, and sat for a moment, staring down at the rest of the blank page left for taking notes. Ey couldn't do it. It was too much. Much too much. ``Jonas,'' ey said, reaching a hand across the table. ``Thank you so much for letting me interview you. You've given me rather a lot to think about, so I may come back with more questions down the line. Is there any you want to keep me from publishing?''
|
||||
|
||||
He returned the handshake and shrugged. ``Nope, you're\pagebreak\ good to go with all of it. We've done the cost-benefit analysis, and this passes muster.''
|
||||
|
||||
They both stood and walked toward the exit.
|
||||
|
||||
``Mx. Bălan, it's been an absolute pleasure.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan smiled and very carefully did not say, \emph{For you, perhaps. For me, it has been absolutely terrifying.}
|
||||
76
toledot/content/launch/sys/Ioan/011.tex
Normal file
76
toledot/content/launch/sys/Ioan/011.tex
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,76 @@
|
||||
\hypertarget{ioan-bux103lan-2326}{%
|
||||
\chapter{Ioan Bălan — 2326}\label{ioan-bux103lan-2326}}
|
||||
|
||||
``We're nearing the point of this project where we're considering pulling together all of our notes. We have quite a bit already, certainly enough for an overview, and if we decide to do a second volume as a deeper dive, we can look into that later.'' Ioan smiled to the skunk across the table from em, one ey felt ey had so many reasons to fear. ``So this interview is mostly meant to wrap everything up, fill in a few gaps here and there. Does that sound alright?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Of course,'' True Name said, smiling. ``I have read over the summary that you sent me, and it looks fairly complete, but I will answer any question you ask.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan collected eir thoughts for a moment, testing eir pen's nib against the paper. ``Right. Okay. The first thing I'd like to ask is that you've given us a good bit of information about your why, how, and when for many of the things that you did around Secession and Launch. I think we've got an idea of what, too, but it seems almost too big to grasp at a glance, so I'd like to know who all was involved.''
|
||||
|
||||
``I am assuming you mean in more detail than just us and the Jonas clade, yes?'' She tilted her head when Ioan nodded, apparently considering the best way to answer. ``I, like Jonas Prime did for his clade, acted as the point of contact for the Ode clade in this endeavor. However, Jonas's methods tended toward that of a hydra: he coordinated with all of his instances working on various aspects only as much as was required to keep them from stepping on each other's toes.
|
||||
|
||||
``I was much more akin to the central nervous system for the Odists. The Bălan clade has interviewed Why Ask Questions, End Waking, and May Then My Name, but the entirety of my stanza was working for me at one point or another--''
|
||||
|
||||
``May is in your stanza,'' Ioan said, frowning.
|
||||
|
||||
True Name winked, then continued, ``But there were several others from other stanzas, as well. Praiseworthy and Qoheleth, yes, but many of the first lines and several of their initial forks helped out quite a bit. Even Hammered Silver, in her own way, helped. She kept Michelle company, helped her throughout the long years, They grew quite close, and through her, I was able to accomplish what I required from Michelle.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Is that the difference between the liberal and conservative elements of the clade? The ones who were under your employ and aligned to it, and those who weren't?''
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk laughed openly. ``They are silly names, are they not? There are hardly categories so neat, Ioan. We cannot even make a spectrum, can we? All of us had our different jobs, as mentioned. Praiseworthy provided her services as propagandist between productions. Qoheleth rewrote the memories of the System itself, and though he suffered for it, he was good at his job. Hammered Silver sat with Michelle, Why Ask Questions and Answers Will Not Help managed the phys- and sys-side politics, and End Waking kept his fingers in the finances. That is hardly a spectrum from liberal to conservative, is it?''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan shrugged, waited for her to continue.
|
||||
|
||||
``As you will,'' she said, grinning. ``If there is to be a divide between liberals and conservatives, then, it must be in the scale of their thoughts, of their actions. Those who you and Dear and, who knows, perhaps even May Then My Name call conservatives think on the scale of centuries. Their thoughts are bound up at the level of species, their actions work on a global scale. More than a global scale, for the System is not on the globe, and the LVs are well on their way out of the solar system now, are they not?''
|
||||
|
||||
``And the liberals think too small?'' Ey shook eir head, adding, ``I guess that's a value judgement. The liberals think smaller? Like on the individual scale?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Oh, you had it right the first time. The liberals think too small. They are completely welcome to, of course. Take Dear and Serene, for instance. It is in no way wrong for them to think about the work that they do. They consider the ways in which sims and instances affect those that interact with them, and then they play on those effects like a finely tuned instrument. It speaks to a level of\ldots how should I put this? It bespeaks a showmanship that I---that Michelle, for that matter---could not hope to achieve. They are the consummate performers.
|
||||
|
||||
``But what can they do with that? What use do they believe they are to the System? I do not mean that in a simple utilitarian sense, or at least not only in that sense, but I wonder if they, as artists, consider the end goals of their work. Do not let Dear tell you otherwise, it is an artist, and a very fine one, but all its art accomplishes is all any art accomplishes. It is transgressive without being subversive. It does not move the population to greater goals.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Isn't that okay though? For an artist, I mean. Art doesn't always have to inspire our societies to better themselves or our societies, does it?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Of course not,'' True Name said, smiling. ``Art can be all of those things and still be fine. It can be an endeavor that adds to the world around it, even if it does not push it to realize greater capabilities. That is the opposing view to the conservatives. The names do not fit, do you see? The conservative elements of the Ode clade are those who steer and guide and lead and always hunt for greater potential. The liberal elements of the Ode clade are the artists dropped within, the storytellers, the landscape artists, the lovers and dancers and actors. The conservatives forge, the liberals hone. Both of us live wholly in the work that we have before us, and both of us love what we do.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan's hand brushed across eir page in an even cadence as she spoke, and when ey reached the end of the line, ey paused, formulating eir next question. ``Where did all of this come from?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Can you expand on that?''
|
||||
|
||||
``This,'' ey said, waving eir hand at True Name, at the page. ``To hear tell from the other Odists, this work began essentially as soon as you were forked off from Michelle. Each of you seemed to individuate immediately, whereas it took Codrin far longer to do so. Years, even. Even after the name change, after ey moved in with Dear and its partner, ey still could have just as easily been a Ioan. From the way it sounds, you ceased being Michelle as soon as you were instantiated. Where did that come from?''
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk looked thoughtful for a moment, then closed her eyes. The look of concentration on her face grew, and then, for a few short seconds, she became like Michelle. Ey saw for the first time in years that wavering between Michelle and Sasha, those waves of skunk/human/skunk/human/skunk that washed over her form, and always on her face, that look of exhaustion, of the concentration needed to hold it together.
|
||||
|
||||
And as True Name focused on recalling that bit of Michelle that lingered from the past, she forked off copy after copy of herself, each instance lasting only a fraction of a second, but throughout the display, Ioan saw the ways in which they differed. First, a Michelle would flick into existence, and then a Sasha. First, a skunk that looked happy, then a human that looked to be in agony. Always in flux, always tied to whatever it was that True Name must have been experiencing at that point.
|
||||
|
||||
And then, it was over.
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk puffed out a pent-up breath, laughing and fanning her face with a paw. ``That was way fucking harder than I remember it being. I have not tried that trick in decades.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan blinked, frowned. ``You differ because of when it was that Michelle forked?''
|
||||
|
||||
``That is part of it,'' True Name said, catching her breath. ``I read your notes, do you remember what it was that Douglas said about having a fever?''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey prowled through the exo ey had devoted to this project, rifling through files of memories, then recited, ``I had a very high fever, and when it was at its worst, I felt as though I was being offered a chance to peek behind a curtain, or at least see the shadows moving around backstage beneath the hem of it.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Do you imagine that what Michelle was feeling at any time, or at least on any particularly bad day, was any different?'' Her expression darkened. ``When you are lost, when you are locked in your mirrored cage, any cord that tied a thought to reality or your concept of self is slowly severed. Michelle was lucky. She was in there for sixteen hours, she was told, and she still came out like this. Many of her thoughts remained tethered, enough for her to continue to live and exist in the world for a little while, but the longer she lived, the more of those frayed cords began to break, and she was not just, as Douglas put it, ``granted a glimpse of some thinner reality'', but she found herself stuck there.
|
||||
|
||||
``When she forked, wherever she was, that was what we became. The state of her mind in flux, her body in flux, became the state that led to us. Perhaps I was pinned to a memory, however fleeting, of the political systems that led to her getting lost. Perhaps Praiseworthy was pinned to memories of playing a role in a play.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan scribbled furiously to keep up, as the skunk's language flowed more easily and became more flowery.
|
||||
|
||||
``But this is just speculation, Mx. Bălan. We do not know why we differ so much, but we do, and that is the best guess we have. The evidence you have just seen is all we have to back it up, but you have seen what was borne from it. All of the stanzas have their role, and mine just happens to be that of politics. We influence people. It is just what we do.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Which is why your stanza was able to dive so easily into their associated tasks. They had your memories, of course, but they also had that same drive.''
|
||||
|
||||
She beamed at em. ``Precisely. I will not enumerate them all, but you can, if you like, think of them as a microcosm of that conservative-liberal spectrum, with me at the conservative end, working on the scale of centuries and populations, and your May Then My Name at the other, liberal end.''
|
||||
|
||||
``What did May do? What was her task?''
|
||||
|
||||
``That is for her to tell.''
|
||||
|
||||
``No, True Name. You're here, it's your story. You promised me that you'd expand on the question of who, and I want you to live up to that promise now.'' Ey was surprised at the anger in eir own voice. There was a tightness in eir chest, an anxiety, an emotion somewhere between protectiveness and betrayal, stemming from the answer that hovered over the table, there in eir house. Eir and May's house, now. May, who had left on some drummed up errand as soon as True Name had arrived, a look of what ey could only describe as torment on her face. Ey \emph{knew} ey should ask her, rather than True Name, and yet\ldots{} ``What did May do?''
|
||||
|
||||
She stood from her chair and walked around the corner of the table to where ey remained stubbornly seated. ``If you do not wish to be unhappy with the answers to difficult questions, Ioan,'' she said, tousling eir hair. ``Then you do not need to ask them.''
|
||||
|
||||
She smiled down to em. In that smile was a plastic kindness, and in that kindness was a loathing ey could not fathom. And then she quit.
|
||||
212
toledot/content/launch/sys/Ioan/012.tex
Normal file
212
toledot/content/launch/sys/Ioan/012.tex
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,212 @@
|
||||
\hypertarget{ioan-bux103lan-2326}{%
|
||||
\chapter{Ioan Bălan — 2326}\label{ioan-bux103lan-2326}}
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan was still sitting at the table, ruminating, when May returned from her errand. Something that she saw in eir face made her wilt, and when she walked, she almost slunk, skirting the edge of the room, walking silently as though to keep from waking em up, or as though she was bearing some unknowable guilt. When she sat on the stool that True Name had been using, she looked small, closed in on herself. Not just smaller than True Name, though she was also that, but diminished from her usual self.
|
||||
|
||||
She did not speak.
|
||||
|
||||
Finally, Ioan capped eir pen, set it atop eir notes, and pushed them off to the side of the table. Ey folded eir arms on the tabletop and rested eir forehead on them. ``I'm tired, May.''
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk still did not speak. Did not even move, to the point where Ioan questioned whether she might be holding her breath.
|
||||
|
||||
Ey lifted eir head again, saying. ``I'm tired and I'm upset and I don't know what to do.''
|
||||
|
||||
She nodded. ``I expected you would be. I am sorry, Io--''
|
||||
|
||||
``What did you do?'' ey said, cutting her off. ``What was your role in all of this?''
|
||||
|
||||
May flinched back as though slapped. ``Ioan, I do not--''
|
||||
|
||||
``May, I just need to know.''
|
||||
|
||||
She stayed silent, and after a minute, ey sighed.
|
||||
|
||||
``We talked about this early on, about how you thought that I'd get upset, and that you were worried that I'd get upset at you.''
|
||||
|
||||
She nodded, silent still.
|
||||
|
||||
``And I am. I'm upset and tired and\ldots I don't know. Sad? Numb? Something like that. I can't promise that I won't be upset at you, and I really don't want this to go into either of our projects, but please, May, I need to know.''
|
||||
|
||||
``For the sake of completion?''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey nodded. ``For that, sure, but also for the sake of me, or us.''
|
||||
|
||||
``It is nothing terribly dramatic, taken on its own,'' she admitted. ``Though I knew that you would not learn about it until after you learned about everything else and in context, I\ldots well. That was my worry.'' There was a long pause before she asked, ``Do you know what each of the stanzas did?''
|
||||
|
||||
``No, I don't think so. Or, maybe I know a few, but if it helps, you can tell me about the rest.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Alright,'' she said. ``The ones I think you know are Praiseworthy, who loosely focused on propaganda and shaping sentiment; Qoheleth, who focused on shaping history; and True Name, who focused on political manipulation. Hammered Silver was written off by those three, because she was all that was motherly in Michelle. She wanted to take care of her, and, after a while, they were too cynical to think it worthwhile. I think I understand her stanza better than my own.
|
||||
|
||||
``I Am At A Loss For Images In This End Of Days focused on observing. Initially, this was borne out of watching and critiquing performances, but quickly grew to spying. Some of her stanza doubtless watches us still.
|
||||
|
||||
``Oh, But To Whom Do I Speak These Words kept an eye on religions. Her stanza focused on both phys- and sys-side religions as areas of interest. She has returned to the Judaism of our grandparents. We have not had much to talk about through the years.
|
||||
|
||||
``Among Those Who Create Are Those Who Forge started out by watching creatives here on the System, perhaps unsurprisingly, but grew bored and wandered off to do their own thing.
|
||||
|
||||
``Time Is A Finger Pointed At Itself helped both Praiseworthy and Qoheleth as a speech writer, though she was more into theatre than whatever work they gave her. I must take you to one of her shows.
|
||||
|
||||
``If I Am To Bathe In Dreams acted as the grounding element for much of the clade. She became something of a therapist. I have leaned on her often.
|
||||
|
||||
``May One Day Death Itself Not Die forked off all ten instances as soon as she could and then refused to fork again. I think she was left with much of that disconnect from reality that Michelle felt.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Why are you telling me this, May?'' ey asked.
|
||||
|
||||
``Because I need you to understand that the first lines each wound up with a bit of Michelle, yes, but from there, their forks were all riffs on that theme. You have doubtless figured that out by now. I told you early on that True Name forked me off to feel. She wanted to ensure that she also had a way to sway individuals, sys-side, as others focused on large groups.
|
||||
|
||||
``So she forked to create me, and then we discussed how best to accomplish that, and through the various mutation algos, I softened my appearance to be cuter and rounder, softened my voice, learned how to smile more earnestly, and did all the things I could think of to make myself as appealing as possible, whether as human or skunk.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey frowned. ``That doesn't sound like feeling.''
|
||||
|
||||
``That is because True Name did this on a whim, in the most True Name way possible, and I do not think she expected me to be anything but as manipulative as her. She wanted another True Name for a different purpose. In order to influence someone on a truly individual level, though, you must be able to understand them, and I began to work towards that. I did not tell her at first. I changed myself physically, and then as I went out into the System to learn how to manipulate individuals, I kept on forking and changing whenever I found myself coming to a new conclusion. In short, I guess I grew a sense of empathy.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Why didn't you tell her?''
|
||||
|
||||
May smiled cautiously. ``Did she seem like the kind of person who puts stock in feelings?''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey shook eir head.
|
||||
|
||||
``Right. Well, it is not so difficult to imagine that, after a while, she began to notice that I kept getting much closer to those that I was supposed to engage with than was strictly required. I was supposed to watch them, influence them, shift their attention. I was supposed to use the System to my full advantage to get them to do what I---what we---wanted.''
|
||||
|
||||
``You were supposed to get them to grow dandelions.''
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk brightened and nodded. ``Yes. The System is more subtle than we give it credit for. Our subconscious can affect it as much as our conscious minds, so I would hint and murmur and insinuate and make myself a part of their dreams, and then use that to get them to do things of their own volition. There is nothing magic about it. It is simply years in theatre followed by centuries of perfecting the art of social interaction.''
|
||||
|
||||
``That's pretty damn manipulative,'' ey said.
|
||||
|
||||
What brightness had reached her face faded again. ``It was. I was a hell of a tool before I grew my own conscience.''
|
||||
|
||||
``So, you started to feel bad?''
|
||||
|
||||
``I started to \emph{feel}, Ioan. Bad, yes, but I started to feel. True Name does not do much of that. I started to feel, and when I started to feel love, affection, friendship\ldots well, those felt good, so I'd fork again to cement those more firmly in place.''
|
||||
|
||||
``But you still manipulated those around you.''
|
||||
|
||||
``I\ldots yes,'' she said. Her ears were all but laid back flat against her skull.
|
||||
|
||||
``For how long?''
|
||||
|
||||
``I am technically still supposed to be doing that, but--'' She quickly held up a paw. ``--I only lasted about about a decade as a tool for manipulation before I began to feel too much. I became too hard for her to control directly. She could not tell me, ``Go influence that man'' or whatever. The only way she knew to control me was to point me toward who she wanted influenced, set me loose, and hope that I did the right thing on accident, because all I would do is become best friends or lovers or trusted confidants. I could not in good conscience take an idea from True Name and make the person do what she wanted, because I actually had a conscience. It was almost a trauma response, in the end. I fawned because that was how I felt safest.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan felt the tension in eir shoulders, neck, and back. Felt the way ey was holding emself tightly wound. ``And me? Did she point you towards me?''
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk shrank further. She looked as though if she could curl into a ball, shrink to nothing, and disappear, she would. She looked miserable.
|
||||
|
||||
``May?''
|
||||
|
||||
She stayed silent.
|
||||
|
||||
``May, please.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Yes, she did.''
|
||||
|
||||
``So that you could steer me?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Yes.''
|
||||
|
||||
``So that you could, what, make me like you? Become my lover or trusted confidant?''
|
||||
|
||||
There were no words from the skunk. She just sat, shoulders shaking.
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan let out a breath, realizing partway through that it was coming out as a laugh. ``That's really fucked up, May.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Ioan, let me tell you a story.'' She was crying silently now, looking down at her paws. ``In the beginning, the gods created the world. They built it up, atom by atom, molecule by molecule. They used eyes like lasers to guide one after another into ordered formations, ranks upon ranks, and then set them to marching. The gods built the world and then they smiled at it from up above. They looked down on their creation and saw all of the possibilities of perfection that it held, of the unending life and endless bliss.''
|
||||
|
||||
Her words were unsteady, clouded by tears, but she continued, ``The gods built the world because they desired to shape it to their will. They wanted to bend the world into something that they could direct this way and that, because after all, could they not do that with their atoms and molecules? A world that is orderly! Imagine the wonders they could create! The wills they could work!
|
||||
|
||||
``So the gods set the world to spinning and watched and waited as it began to blossom and bloom. When the time was ripe, they reached down their hands to touch the world, and instead found that they had become the wind and the tides and the rain and the snow and the sunlight and the moonlight. They reached down to touch the world and shape it to their will, and found that they had become impersonal forces in the face of absolute independence. The world they created could not be controlled, because there is no such thing as a world that can be controlled. They reached down, became impersonal forces, and the lives within the world bundled their coats up tighter at the north wind or took their hats off when the sun shone bright, but never could they change a single mind.''
|
||||
|
||||
A long silence followed May's myth, broken only by the soft sounds of her crying.
|
||||
|
||||
Ey thought about these gods, these impersonal forces trying to work their wills on the world. Were they True Name and Jonas? Were they the System engineers? Were they those cynical politicians who had created the lost, had created Michelle and True Name and May and Dear in the first place?
|
||||
|
||||
Did it even matter?
|
||||
|
||||
This is who they were. This is where they wound up. Impersonal forces do not negate personal decisions.
|
||||
|
||||
Ey sighed.
|
||||
|
||||
``I believe you,'' ey said, reaching a hand out across the table, palm up.
|
||||
|
||||
``You believe me what?'' she mumbled, still sniffling.
|
||||
|
||||
``I believe that you grew a sense of empathy and a conscience. I believe you couldn't manipulate a hair off my head unless you thought I would live a happier, more fulfilling life without it.''
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk laughed through the tears, a choked and stifled sound. She finally reached out and set one of her paws in Ioan's hand. ``Even then, I would feel bad.''
|
||||
|
||||
``I believe that, too,'' ey said, brushing a thumb over her fingers. ``I believe that you're genuine, is what I'm trying to say. You just happened to have the craziest fucking family I've ever met.''
|
||||
|
||||
At this, May laughed in earnest, rolling her eyes and taking a deep breath to calm down. ``Yes, you are right. I am sorry that they are upsetting people, and that I am a part of that, that I did what I do and that you were their goal. The last thing that I want to do is hurt you.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan nodded. ``I believe you. It's fucked up, but that's on them.''
|
||||
|
||||
They sat for a while longer, hand in paw across the table, while she calmed down and ey thought. Ey was already pulling together the threads of the story that would become eir history, bit by bit, letter by letter, interview by interview, conversation by conversation.
|
||||
|
||||
``May?'' ey asked, struck by a memory.
|
||||
|
||||
``Mm?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Are we together? I mean, are we a couple?''
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk sat up straighter, giving em a funny look, then burst into a fit of giggles. ``Ioan Bălan, that is the dumbest fucking question you have asked throughout this entire project.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey blinked, nonplussed.
|
||||
|
||||
``What do you think?'' She smiled pityingly at em. ``Are we?''
|
||||
|
||||
``That's a weirdly complicated question after the conversation we just had,'' ey said.
|
||||
|
||||
``We just came to the conclusion that you believed me.''
|
||||
|
||||
``I do!'' Ey frowned. ``I mean, of course I do.''
|
||||
|
||||
``So answer the question.''
|
||||
|
||||
``I\ldots yes?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Is \emph{that} a question?''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey shook eir head. ``I guess not.''
|
||||
|
||||
``I told Douglas that I would wait for you to bring up the topic, and that when you did, I would make fun of you for a solid hour,'' she said, grinning. ``But you look like your head is about to explode, so I will save that for another day. You get stuck up in there so easily, my dear.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Really? Douglas is the one that got me thinking about asking in the first place.''
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk stood up from her stool, drawing Ioan out of eir seat by the hand she still held. ``Because of course he did. Leave it to a Hadje to play two sides off each other.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey laughed, drew her into a hug, and kissed the top of her snout.
|
||||
|
||||
After May had cleaned up, as they sat on the bench swing, looking out over the dandelion-speckled yard, Ioan mused. ``You know, I was thinking something.''
|
||||
|
||||
``Color me surprised.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey chose to let the comment pass. ``Dear kept talking about irreversibility at its death day party.''
|
||||
|
||||
``It was declaiming,'' May murmured. ``It has a way of doing that.''
|
||||
|
||||
``No kidding.'' Ey reached a hand up to ruffle it over May's ears. ``But I guess this is irreversible, too, isn't it?''
|
||||
|
||||
``What, you finally figuring out that we have been in a relationship for like two years?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Kind of.''
|
||||
|
||||
May elbowed em in the side. ``You are kidding, right?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Ow! No, seriously,'' ey said, rubbing at eir side. ``Codrin forked to work on the Qoheleth project, \emph{then} got in a relationship with Dear.''
|
||||
|
||||
A spark of comprehension lit up May's eyes and she grinned wide. ``But you did not.''
|
||||
|
||||
``No.'' Ey shrugged. ``I was the Bălan who didn't wind up in a relationship with Dear, because that was my up-tree instance's experience. I can't go back and fork before we met or started working together or dating.''
|
||||
|
||||
She laughed and shook her head, draping herself across eir lap, resting her head on folded arms. ``You are stuck with me, Mx. Bălan. Pet my tail, please.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey did as ordered, brushing fingers through thick fur as ey thought. The fox had been right, ey supposed. There was at least some beauty in the irreversible.
|
||||
|
||||
One more one-way act floated to the surface in eir mind. ``Does Michelle's sim still exist, by the way? I've heard so much about it by now.''
|
||||
|
||||
May frowned. ``Yes. Why?''
|
||||
|
||||
``Well, we're coming up on the one-year anniversary of Launch, right? Maybe we can do a picnic there, think about where this all started, get blitzed on champagne. Bit of a memorial, you know?''
|
||||
|
||||
She laughed. ``You know, why the fuck not. It has been years since I have visited. We can make muffins and compare the smell with the dandelions.''
|
||||
|
||||
Ey grinned, nodded, and made a mental note to ensure that Douglas remembered the suggestion ey'd given almost a year back, that he'd be ready to upload in time.
|
||||
2
toledot/content/launch/sys/Ioan/013.tex
Normal file
2
toledot/content/launch/sys/Ioan/013.tex
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
|
||||
\hypertarget{ioan-balan-2325}{%
|
||||
\chapter{Ioan Balan—2325}\label{ioan-balan-2325}}
|
||||
Reference in New Issue
Block a user