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toledot/content/secession/phys/Yared/001.tex

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+\hypertarget{yared-zerezghi-2125}{%
+\chapter{Yared Zerezghi — 2125}\label{yared-zerezghi-2125}}
+
+Although Yared Zerezghi was treated with the deference that was afforded to those who had attained such feats as he had, he was also regarded with the wary eyes due to anyone who might be considered hero and villain both.
+
+At least, he realized, until he had made it to the airport. No one wanted to be there. No one wanted to sit through that liminal process. Everyone wanted to be where they were going, not sitting in uncomfortable chairs surrounded by people they were studiously trying to ignore.
+
+The last flight to Yakutsk was dull, but it was that singular type of dullness that allows anxiety to build and grow. He stared out the windows at first, watching the cities and towns that built up around the transit hubs, and then, when all was replaced with desert or windswept grass or bare mountains or burnt husks of forests, he would stare instead at the pages of his book. He could not get the symbols on the pages to line up into words and sentences, but it was better than looking out at the world he was leaving.
+
+The book remained unread when he finally landed in Yakutsk and, as he was about to pack it into the small plastic bag that was his only luggage, he thought better of it and shrugged, handing it to the passenger next to him.
+
+``Want a book?''
+
+She frowned. ``Are you\ldots just giving me your book?''
+
+He turned it so that she could see the cover. It was something on politics. Pop drivel, mostly. ``I guess I am, yeah.''
+
+``Why?''
+
+``I won't need it.''
+
+A look of understanding bloomed on her face and her expression shifted from confusion to a cautious smile. ``No, I suppose you won't. Well, thank you. I'll give it to the library if I don't wind up reading it.''
+
+Yared nodded and gave a gesture of thanks. It was only after the conversation was over that he felt a hotness in his cheeks. He had been lucky that the woman spoke English so well. She was very white, and while that might not mean anything, he \emph{was} flying into the Sino-Russian Bloc, and she could just as well not have been a native speaker.
+
+The act of landing, of deplaning and customs, was as dull and rote as he expected it to be, and yet some protective action of his mind had buried that overwhelming anxiety under a blanket of numbness, which had soon spread to encompass all of his feelings and emotions.
+
+The stop through customs was met with another wide-eyed expression.
+
+``You are the first that I have met,'' the agent said.
+
+``Oh?''
+
+``The first of the ones heading to the System.''
+
+Yared nodded.
+
+``I think that I will see many more the longer I work here.'' The agent stamped his passport with an expert twist of the wrist, adding a smear to the ink which added a layer of authenticity. It would be all but impossible to mimic that smear. She handed his passport back with a sly smile and a tap to her temple, ``I do not think I will go. I am terrified enough of my own head.''
+
+Yared could only smile back and move on through the line.
+
+He was met at baggage claim by a slight man who took him by the hand and led him out into the heat of the afternoon. He was shunted into the air-conditioned back of a black car---so many memories of weeks and months ago beneath that blanket of numbness---which took him to an unassuming office complex.
+
+Unassuming from the outside, at least. Inside, he was met with white tile and calm, efficient staff who swished on the floor with white, paper booties.
+
+He was directed to a waiting room where he was instructed to disrobe and push his arms through the sleeves of a paper gown. He was even provided with his own booties.
+
+``You have fasted?''
+
+``Yes?''
+
+``Forty-eight hours?''
+
+``More like seventy-two.''
+
+The nurse looked up from her tablet and gave him a kind smile. ``Are you nervous?''
+
+``I\ldots don't know.'' He looked down at his hands. They were perfectly still for the first time in three days. ``I was. I don't know what I am now.''
+
+She nodded and swiped something on the tablet before clipping it to a bandoleer of various medical goodies strapped across her front. ``If you would like medication for your anxiety now, I can provide. Your procedure is in ten minutes, however---you understand the rush---so if you can wait that long, you will shortly not feel a thing.''
+
+Her English had the same clipped, stilted accent of the man who had driven him to the medical center, of the customs agent, of all of the flight agents. He wondered briefly if it was some S-R Bloc accent, or if the overwhelming numbness had distorted all he heard.
+
+``Please, Mr.~Zerezghi. If you would lay down here. I will place an IV, and we will get you to the surgery immediately. You understand, yes? We are on a schedule, yes?''
+
+He nodded and did as he was told. The numbness, he realized, had extended to the physical as well, as he didn't notice the needle in the back of his hand until the nurse clipped a line to it.
+
+The surgery was\ldots well, Yared was something not quite awake, not quite asleep for most of it, but what he did remember was that it was in all ways unpleasant. The noises that drifted in and out of his awareness, the last remaining scent, the last remaining taste, both of some nickel-plated sourness that he could not place. The last remaining sight of just light, just light.
+
+And then a stretching. A stretching up of his arms while his feet remained anchored, there on that bed. He stretched up tall, kilometers up, light years. So tall that he began to thin out, tapering in the middle until he thought that he would snap\ldots{}
+
+Whether there was any discontinuity or not, he did not know. He was simply\ldots there. Simply standing in a cube of grey walls, grey ceiling, grey floor. It was lit by lights that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, and the lack of a shadow was disturbing in a way that he could not place.
+
+A soft, feminine voice spoke to him, then. Or did not come to him. He did not hear it through his ears, but it was there, nonetheless, through something more and less than hearing. ``Yared. Can you speak?''
+
+He opened his mouth and exhaled in a gasp. His throat worked at least, though everything was\ldots different. So different.
+
+Remembering---somehow---how to move, he tilted his head forward to look down at himself. Naked, but sharp and clear. He lifted his hands to look at them, seeing the same dark skin, the same well-trimmed fingernails.
+
+But no contacts. None of those silvery pads on his fingers. He rubbed his thumb over the spots where they had once been, then reached his other hand up to touch at the back of his neck where the long-familiar exocortex implant was missing. Smooth, soft skin, with only what hair and blemishes he remembered from this afternoon, from so long ago.
+
+He took another breath, and let it out in a long \emph{aaah}, then another and said, ``Yes, I think so.''
+
+``Fantastic,'' came the voice once more.
+
+``Is that\ldots are you True Name?''
+
+A soft chuckle, and then, ``Yes, it is me. Or a portion of me, at least. You are still in the upload clinic's system, which cannot easily fit two.''
+
+``So, not in the System yet.''
+
+``No, but the transfer is nearly complete. You will not remember this encounter, I am afraid, but you will have new ones.'' The voice sounded as though it was smiling. ``So very many new ones. I am just happy to see you move and hear you speak, as it means that the same will be true sys-side.''
+
+Yared frowned. ``I will\ldots{}not remember?''
+
+``This instance is in a temporary location for the purpose of testing, so eventually, you will either quit or be halted, yes.''
+
+``But then I'll be in the System?''
+
+There was a pause, and then a laugh. ``You already are. The upload has completed, and I---the real True Name---am speaking with you.''
+
+``But I will die here?''
+
+``Not die, no. You will quit. You are already living on.''
+
+The words made him tremble. They were so final, which jarred against a tone of comfort, of reassurance. ``I don't know if I'm ready for that.''
+
+The voice still sounded like it was smiling. ``There is little I can do to reassure you, so, tough shit. You are already on the other side.''
+
+And with that, Yared Zerezghi ceased to be.
+
+\begin{center}\rule{0.5\linewidth}{0.5pt}\end{center}
+
+``Yared. Can you speak?''
+
+He blinked open his eyes, confronted with a shape of black and white, then shouted and fell backwards.
+
+The shape that stood before him, laughed and leaned down to offer a hand. ``I will take that as a yes. I am True Name. Do you remember me?''
+
+He stared up at the shape, something half human and half animal, a tapering snout and white-striped black fur. Feminine form. Soft tail. Friendly eyes.
+
+``True\ldots Name? The Only\ldots The Only Time\ldots{}''
+
+``The Only Time I Know My True Name Is When I Dream, yes.'' It-- she was smiling, though Yared was not sure how he knew that. She wiggled the fingers of her offered hand---paw? Paw---and said, ``Come on, let us get you up.''
+
+Yared still did not accept the offer, looking around himself instead. He sat atop a small hill in a grass field, dotted liberally with dandelions. The sky was cloudless and blue above him. The sun stood on high.
+
+He shook his head, marveling at the sudden change from cold clinic and unpleasant sensations to so prosaic a landscape, then took the paw at last, letting himself be helped to his feet.
+
+``There you go,'' True Name said. ``How do you feel?''
+
+``Um.''
+
+``Naked, perhaps?''
+
+He looked down at himself and started back from the animal. ``Uh\ldots yes. How do I\ldots{}''
+
+``Picture yourself clothed how you wish. Your favorite outfit, perhaps. Picture that, and then want it. Want to be clothed.''
+
+Squinting his eyes shut, Yared did his best to think his clothes into being. He heard a laugh from True Name.
+
+``Relax. Breathe in, and then when you breathe out, think of that outfit and say to yourself, `gosh, I wish that I was wearing that right now!', and then smile.''
+
+``Smile?''
+
+``That part is not necessary, but I find that it helps with the newly arrived.''
+
+\emph{Breathe in.}
+
+\emph{Breathe out.} ``I would like to be wearing that nice thawb I got to try on.''
+
+\emph{Smile.}
+
+And then he was. He felt the fabric hanging comfortably from his shoulders. It was not sudden or slow, he did not feel the transition, he just was simply wearing the garment as if he always had been.
+
+``There, see? It will become second nature, and you will not need to smile or speak out loud.''
+
+Yared nodded. Breathed in, breathed out, and then the fabric had two gold brocade stripes heading down from the shoulders to the hem.
+
+``Excellent!'' The skunk---as he now remembered her to be---clapped her paws. ``I figured you would be a fast learner after so long.''
+
+``Where are we?''
+
+``We are in a private sim. Usually, new arrivals show up in a gridded gray box, and then a guide will arrive and show them basically what I showed you, but you are something of a celebrity, at least among the circles that I run in, and so I pulled some strings with the Council of Eight.''
+
+He nodded absentmindedly, reached down, and plucked at a dandelion. It felt real enough. Finally, he said, ``You are not exactly how I pictured you. I've seen pictures of Michelle.''
+
+``What were you picturing?''
+
+``I don't know.'' He frowned. ``I guess I never really internalized the whole `skunk' thing.''
+
+True Name smiled and shrugged. ``I look like this. Rather like my av back in the 'net. I can look--'' There was suddenly a short woman standing beside the skunk. The resemblance was clearly there in the shape of the profile and the way she moved, but for the fact that she looked like the photos Yared had seen. The human spoke. ``--like this, but that is not my preferred mode.''
+
+And then she was gone, with just the skunk standing before him.
+
+``What was that?''
+
+``I forked. I created a new instance of myself from that moment. I just let it slip back into that other form I remember.''
+
+``You can do that?''
+
+She laughed. ``I can, though it does cost some reputation if the fork lasts longer than five minutes.''
+
+``And then it just\ldots went away?''
+
+``She quit, yes.''
+
+``And I can do this, too?''
+
+Before she could respond, Yared breathed in, and then two of him breathed out. He let out a shout of laughter.
+
+True Name looked startled, then clapped her paws once more. ``Well done! Usually it takes new arrivals a few days to get to that point. Now, one of you---you have not experienced too much that is different from each other, so it doesn't matter which---one of you think, `okay, I am ready to quit'.''
+
+``And what will happen then?''
+
+``Then? Nothing. That instance will stop. If you quit--'' she pointed at the newer of the two Yareds ``--then you--'' and then at the first ``--will have the option of merging the fork's memories back in.''
+
+``Will I feel anything? Is it like dying?''
+
+``No, Yared. It is fine. The experiences simply stop.'' She smiled wryly, adding, ``We still have not answered the question of an afterlife, but we are told from outside that System capacity increases when an instance frees up space.''
+
+He frowned, but gestured to the newer fork, who backed away a step and crouched. ``If you promise it's not like dying. I can't\ldots I can't have gotten this far just to die.''
+
+``I have never died, so I cannot promise, but when I just forked and then merged, the memories that I received did not include anything that felt like death. They just stop.''
+
+Yared's fork---he realized he knew it as Yared Zerezghi\#323a998a, though not how---slowly straightened up, closed his eyes, and breathed out.
+
+Then disappeared.
+
+There was a sudden, demanding pressure on Yared, as though a memory of something important was \emph{right there}, and all he needed to do was remember it.
+
+So he did. He remembered the suddenness of the beginning of existence. He remembered the sight of himself. He remembered the different angle that he had seen True Name from, so incongruous with where he was standing now. The conversation, the shock of being informed that he should quit, the fear, the determination. And then the memories just ended.
+
+``See? There is nothing after.''
+
+He tilted his head, trying to remember anything past that point, but there was nothing else to grasp. ``Not really, but I suppose I'll get used to it.''
+
+``You do not need to fork if you do not want to. And you will learn how to control the merger over time, and only remember certain parts. You will learn. But come, secession and launch are only a few minutes away. Think to yourself, `I want to be at Josephine's\#aaca9bb9.' You will also get used to remembering those letters and num--''
+
+Yared's eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim, steamy light of a restaurant. It was chilly outside, but delightfully warm inside, where silver and red stools lined a bar and the sizzle of eggs could be heard from a griddle. There were a few dozen people inside, including a gaggle of other skunks and women that looked eerily like True Name and Michelle.
+
+True Name appeared beside him, laughing. ``That was fast. I know that I should not be surprised at the quickness with which you are picking this up, but I am.''
+
+The skunk padded over to a corner booth where seven others waited. Three well-dressed individuals, a dirty pile of rags that may have contained a human, a nondescript face that he couldn't seem to focus on, another animal of some sort that reminded Yared of a ferret he had seen once, and a perpetually smiling man with artfully tousled hair.
+
+Both of them slid into the booth, and as they did so, the noise of the restaurant dimmed almost to inaudibility.
+
+``Uh, hi.''
+
+``Mr.~Zerezghi, a pleasure!'' The tousled man reached out his hand and Yared shook it on instinct. ``Jonas. Happy to meet face to face at last.''
+
+Yared straightened up. ``Jonas? Really? Nice to meet you as well. Is this\ldots are you the Council of eight?''
+
+True Name nodded. ``That is us, yep. Michelle could not be here tonight, so I am here in her stead.''
+
+``You meet at a diner?''
+
+``We meet all over,'' Jonas said. ``There is no headquarters, \emph{per se.} We just find interesting places and meet there.''
+
+``Wherever's most boring.'' The nondescript person shrugged.
+
+A mug of coffee was placed before him and Yared lifted it automatically for a sip. He wasn't sure why this surprised him, but he figured he had a lot to learn.
+
+``You're the last one,'' rasped the pile of rags. ``The last arrival before secession. You didn't want to be the first one after? It's your big deal, right?''
+
+``No.~I don't know why. I suppose just in case something goes wrong with the launch.''
+
+``Nothing will go wrong. There is a backup facility, anyway,'' the ferret-shaped one said. ``Debarre, by the way. Nice to meet you.''
+
+The rest of the council introduced themselves.
+
+``So, how long until secession takes effect?'' True Name asked.
+
+One of the well-dressed women tilted her head, then smiled. ``Ten seconds.''
+
+Yared set his coffee down quickly as the table began a countdown. He looked around and then realized everyone was counting down. Shouting the numbers. Grinning and laughing and clapping.
+
+By the time they hit four, Yared was counting along with them.
+
+``Three!'' he shouted.
+
+\emph{This is what it was all for,} he thought. \emph{Sitting in a diner, drinking terrible coffee, and meeting friends.}
+
+``Two!''
+
+\emph{I dreamed for so long, and I get here minutes before it all happens at once. This is what it was for.}
+
+``One!''
+
+\emph{It was all for these smiling faces and complete and total freedom.}
+
+Everyone began cheering at once. The windows lit up with a fireworks display. True Name stopped clapping in order to hug him around the shoulders, and after a moment's hesitation, he returned the gesture.
+
+``This is why you wanted to be the last one, is it not?'' she murmured in his ear just loud enough for him to hear. ``You greedy son of a bitch. You just wanted to be the last one to join the party.''
+
+He laughed. ``You know, I think you may be right.''

toledot/content/secession/phys/Yared/002.tex

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+\hypertarget{yared-zerezghi-2124}{%
+\chapter{Yared Zerezghi — 2124}\label{yared-zerezghi-2124}}
+
+\begin{quote}
+When one is uploaded, the only thing that is left behind is the body, and that in pieces. It is an uncomfortable, perhaps gruesome fact of the process, but unavoidable. The intellect, the emotions, and all that makes a person an individual are sent to that building (or compound, we don't know what it looks like) in the Sino-Russian Bloc and then they become a part of the System. We do not see what they see, and cannot, but we do talk to them. They are quite the talkative bunch, and they describe all sorts of wonders. The System is much like our sims but far, far more real. Realer than we could ever imagine. It is, I'm told, quite literally a dream world.
+
+All of this---the chatter from the System, the continuity of lives from here to there, the vibrancy of the place---points to a collection of real, actual people. They may not have the bodies, but they are no less real, living, feeling, laughing, crying, joyful beings, and they deserve the recognition of their reality, their individuality.
+
+I hear many arguments against their individual rights:\pagebreak
+
+\emph{``Because we cannot interbreed with them, they are a different species, and thus are not guaranteed the same rights.''}
+
+This is a crass and ridiculous idea. Of \emph{course} we cannot interbreed, The chances of us interbreeding with a moth are more likely, as at least a moth has a body! However, if we see that their lives in the System are continuous progressions from the lives they lived here and they had inalienable rights here, then there must also be continuity of rights. Whether or not we can interbreed is nothing but a distraction.
+
+\emph{``They should have to pay for the power requirements for running their system.''}
+
+This argument carries weight when it is viewed from a strictly logical point of view. Running the System \emph{does} cost money, and even if they have little need for money in there as they go about their day-to-day lives, perhaps they can to find a way to help subsidize that ability. I can think of a dozen ways off the top of my head even while writing this.
+
+However, for the argument to be used as a reason that they must not have individual rights---those of freedom, happiness, and access to necessities---borders on the incomprehensible. When an individual is out of a job outside of the System, we do not simply strip away their rights on the spot! We must have the correct conversation, here, and this is just muddying the waters
+
+\emph{``If they are essentially expert systems running on a computer, they should be treated as such and used to run expert systems out here.''}
+
+This is it, here. This is the worst of almost all of the myriad arguments that I've heard. This is the pillar of cynicism that everyone's inner sociopath leans against. This is the bit of us that says: if I cannot see it, it isn't worth the scantest thought. This is the bit that says: every individual must serve a tangible use in the world in order to exist. This is the bit that says: they deserve this because I am also a cog in this horrendous machine.
+
+Humanity is, as ever, a race of cynics-at-heart, yet this approaches such a low as to turn the stomach. You would afford dogs and cats greater rights than those who we know for a fact can think and talk and feel and know. We know this because they \emph{are} us.
+
+Without compromising their identity, I can say that I have received a letter from two representatives of the Council of Eight, the leadership within the System, and on this we agree. They are alive, and because they are alive, they deserve the rights guaranteed those who are alive. They are individual, and so those rights must be individual. They can feel happiness, they know what it means to be free, and they are completely dependent on this one necessity, and so those rights afforded us must be granted them.
+
+One of these representatives with whom I have been speaking is one of the lost. I know that the collective conscious moves quickly, and it's a lot to ask it to keep in mind a single incident from nigh on twelve years ago, but they are important. They were among the lost, those unlucky few trapped within their own minds and exocortices by the whims of tyranny, and when they were returned to our shared existence from their solipsistic one, they were among the voices campaigning for change from the very political systems who failed them and many others. As one of the lost, their experiences were integral to the creation of the System, and have been a part of it from the inside for almost a decade.
+
+Their memories are real.
+
+Their life is real.
+
+Vote for the granting of rights. Vote yes on \emph{referendum 10b30188}.
+
+Yared Zerezghi (NEAC)
+\end{quote}
+
+\noindent Yared submitted the post to the DDR forums and swiped his way out of the whole damn trash fire, feeling for that cool air on the back of his neck, backing out of his rig fast enough that he teetered on his chair.
+
+Every time he had to write something about this, every time he had to force himself to reiterate the arguments of others, it made him angry. Irrationally so.
+
+He slung his bag over his shoulder, donned his cap, and stomped out of his apartment. He needed away from computers after something like that.
+
+Sunlight assailed him on the street. The view was as bright as ever, the weather as oppressively hot as always. He swayed for a moment as he struggled to acclimate, and once he was able, continued to stomp his way down the street to the coffee shop on the corner.
+
+He could let his anger cool, but it felt too good to nurse it just a little while longer.
+
+His usual low stool was free, so he claimed that and sat to watch as the coffee was roasted, ground, boiled, strained, poured. Despite the urge to stoke that fury further, the meditative aspect of watching the coffee being prepared, the smell of it and the small cakes of himbasha, calmed him quickly.
+
+He was partway through his second cup and nibbling on his second slice of the sweet cardamom bread when another man sat down next to him. This would not normally be cause for concern, except for the fact that the man was wearing a suit. A \emph{black} suit. This was not just incongruous, it was alarming in a place where the sun shone so hot.
+
+Yared looked around, then spotted the black car parked down the cross street. Obviously that must have a cushy, air-conditioned interior, which would at least make the choice of clothing tolerable.
+
+He nodded to the man, who nodded back, ordered three coffees, and waited.
+
+Yared finished his cup and reached out his hand to grip the contacts to pay for his coffee, but the man gently pressed his arm down.
+
+``Please, allow me to purchase your coffee and food. Do you like the himbasha here?''
+
+Frowning, he nodded. ``It's quite good. May I ask why you're paying for me?''
+
+``My passenger would like to meet with you,'' the man said, nodding over toward the car. ``The coffees are for the three of us.''
+
+``With me?''
+
+``Yes, Mr.~Zerezghi.''
+
+Yared reached once more for the contacts to pay, hoping he could simply walk away from the situation, which was quickly moving from alarming to frightening, but his arm was once more gently pushed away. Instead, the man reached forward and let his implants connect with the contacts, the touch completing the payment.
+
+``I think I should leave, sir.''
+
+``Please, stay. It is cool in the car, and we only wish to talk.''
+
+``About what?''
+
+The coffee was poured into paper cups and the himbasha was slid into a paper packet.
+
+``Please, Mr.~Zerezghi, this way.''
+
+Yared remained seated. ``You haven't answered my question, sir. About what?''
+
+By way of answer, the man smiled, not unkindly, and said, ``My passenger has read your post from this morning and was most impressed. Please, you may stand outside the car if that would make you feel better.''
+
+Still frowning, Yared stood, nodded to the woman who had prepared the coffee and let the man in black lead him to the car.
+
+The man set the tray of coffees on the roof of the car, removed one and set a slice of himbasha on it, before opening the back door and handing the tray and other slices to the person inside.
+
+So incongruous was the context that Yared did not recognize him at first. The man was dressed much as he was, in loose white pants and a white shirt, but the clothing was much finer, with an elaborately embroidered neckline on the shirt, and spotless pants where his own were dusty and overdue for a wash.
+
+Still, the face was unmistakable. ``Councilor Demma?'' he asked, voice small.
+
+``Mr.~Zerezghi! The very one. Please! Come in and sit with me, and we can drink our coffees. They smell delightful.''
+
+Yared stood at the door a moment longer, feeling the cool air against his face. His mind had gone blank. Any thought of the coffee, of the message earlier, was gone, and all he could think was, \emph{What in the world does Yosef Demma want with me?}
+
+A gentle hand on his shoulder from the driver urged Yared into the back of the car where he took a seat opposite Councilor Demma, who handed him his coffee and offered him the bag of himbasha, which he declined.
+
+``I suppose you've already eaten plenty, hmm? It does smell delicious. I rather like it when they put orange in it as well as the spices.'' He broke off a corner of the bread and set the rest aside. ``I will get straight to business, Mr.~Zerezghi, as I know that this is rather unexpected for you. We have been keeping tabs of your posts on the topic of individual rights on the DDR forums. Your voice is one of the loudest, most consistent, and most eloquent out of the whole system, and we would like to work with you on those.''
+
+Yared coughed on a swallow of coffee. ``You have been\ldots watching me?''
+
+Councilor Demma laughed and waved his hand, chewing on his sweet bread. After swallowing, he said, ``Do not worry, Yared. The NEAC Council is a political body, the DDR is a political entity, so of course we monitor the forums. We are monitoring everybody, not monitoring you specifically. Except, of course, inasmuch as you are a part of that everybody.''
+
+``But you came for me, sir.''
+
+``That we did. Your posts have attracted our attention. They are quite well written, very well researched, and the information you have by virtue of your relationship with your two companions is invaluable. We---that is, the interests in the council that I represent on this topic---feel that you would be a useful aid in reaching our goals.''
+
+``And what goals are those?''
+
+Councilor Demma smiled in a way that did not exactly instill confidence. ``Individual rights and autonomy of the System.''
+
+Yared blinked, frowned, and took the few seconds offered by a sip of his coffee to work up the courage to ask, ``Autonomy?''
+
+``We are like you, Yared. We desire that the uploaded individuals maintain individual rights. Our dreams are perhaps a little bigger, is all. You fight for their rights, but we fight for their independence.''
+
+``How can they be independent. Aren't they a part of the S-R Bloc? Those who upload have to get a visa, even if only for a few hours, before they join the System.''
+
+``Yes, but it is dual citizenship!'' the councilor said, stabbing his finger toward Yared. ``They remain citizens of the Western Fed or of the Northeast African Coalition or wherever they are from. They essentially only have a visa for the S-R Bloc. If they are our citizens, they must still have the rights we grant them. That is your argument, yes?''
+
+Yared nodded numbly.
+
+``We, like you, wish to protect those rights, but we want to grant them even more. We want to grant them their independence.''
+
+The import of Councilor Demma's request struck him like a blow to the stomach. ``You\ldots you want to help them secede?''
+
+The man across from him smiled and finished his coffee, setting it aside before taking another bite of the himbasha. ``This is quite good, Mr.~Zerezghi. I will have to remember this place.''
+
+Yared frowned at the non sequitur.
+
+``This is not something that they have in the System. They do not have delicious coffee and delicious desserts. Neither do they have hamburgers or Sichuan noodles. They have none of the same stuff as us, as crude or as plain or as beautiful as it may be. They don't have the same stuff that makes our societies what they are. They have their own society-stuff. They have their own world and their own customs.
+
+``Have you heard about the way that they can make copies of themselves and become two individuals? It is fascinating to me. They call those collections of individuals clades, because they can form a branching tree of personalities. Wonderful! Can you imagine the culture that must spring up around that? Are clades families? Do they fight like siblings? Culture has sprung up around our coffee, our himbasha, our \emph{stuff}, and it certainly does not involve these clades of theirs.''
+
+The councilor was intensely charismatic. The argument made sense, too, and a part of him was ready to dive in head-first if it would accomplish his goals. The rest of him prevailed, though, and he asked, ``But where do I come into this?''
+
+``Excellent question.'' That disconcerting smile again. ``All we would like you to do is continue on your campaign for individual rights now. However, we would like to suggest some small changes to your arguments, just little nudges here and there. They will not start right away, but soon, we would like you to shift the language you use. We have confidence that individual rights will be granted, but we want the way primed for what comes after.''
+
+``Confidence?''
+
+The councilor tapped his temple. ``We keep an eye on the forums, remember? We keep our finger on the pulse of the DDR. I also have the interests that I represent, and I have confidence in them.''
+
+``You just want me to campaign as I usually do, but subtly suggest that the System should secede?''
+
+``Ideas grow organically, Mr.~Zerezghi, but they all start from a seed. You are ideally placed to be that seed, both for the DDR and for the Council of Eight.''
+
+Yared sat up straighter. ``Oh, so not just the DDR, but also the System?''
+
+Councilor Demma nodded, still smiling. ``There is nothing you need to do yet, but let us meet up for coffee again, yes? Perhaps here, again, in two days time? I would love to make these chats over coffee a regular part of our schedules.''
+
+``Can I take those two days to think on it?''
+
+That smile faltered only briefly but was quickly replaced. ``Of course, Yared, I understand that this is a large request to make of you. All the same, I do hope that you will agree to join us. Much is resting on this venture.''
+
+At some unseen signal, the car door was opened from the outside. The meeting, it seemed, was at an end, and he was back on the street, back in the brightness and heat, watching the car disappear around a corner.

toledot/content/secession/phys/Yared/003.tex

@@ -0,0 +1,189 @@
+\hypertarget{yared-zerezghi-2124}{%
+\chapter{Yared Zerezghi — 2124}\label{yared-zerezghi-2124}}
+
+\begin{quote}
+The discussion of speciation continues, I see.
+
+And you know what? You all begin to convince me of this fact. If you have been following the System feeds, you will have doubtless seen the ways in which the System differs from life phys-side in levels so completely fundamental that they strain the imagination. We (by virtue of the fact that you are even reading this) have all used the `net. To greater or lesser extents, we have all felt the ways in which it is different than 'real life'. I myself have often found the ways in which tactility differs here from out in the world: there is touch, yes, and there is something akin to the sensation of hot and cold (thermoception, the dictionary tells me), and it obviously could not function without a fairly accurate simulacrum of proprioception. If you don't know where you end and the rest of the sim begins, it is nigh useless as a shared space.
+
+But touch? Touch is subtly different in so many ways. I remarked on this to a friend who is far, far more into the tech side than I am, and he immediately mentioned that he had felt similar. The reason, he explained, is that no matter how hard the implants try, they can only approximate the sensation of touch. Hearing? Fine. We have decoded the phenomenon of sound well enough that we are able to toss that sense in there just fine. Smell? Well, that's a bit more difficult, as I've read that there is some funny quantum aspects to that sensation. In the end, however, it is just a matter of simulating chemical interactions well enough.
+
+Touch is so inexact, though. For each person it is different, and for each location on the body, the reaction is different. If you touch me on the shoulder, I might turn around to look at you. If you stick your finger in my ear (please don't) I will likely react much more violently. However, if \emph{I} stick my finger in my ear, it elicits no such reaction, and can even feel pleasant.
+
+Those in the System talk of such varied experiences, but when I brought this up over the chat-line with some friends that I've made over there (I've been asked to withhold their names), they seemed more confused than anything, and had me try in several ways to describe this difference in touch, the way I sometimes fail to sense a touch, or the way I sometimes feel a strong, sudden pressure (for who has not accidentally stubbed a toe?) with about the same level of intensity of brushing my fingers over a surface.
+
+They said that there is no such issue within there. The dreaming brain is far more capable of coming up with the sensation of touch than the limited version we find in our implants.
+
+An example: One of these friends is a furry, which means that her form (what we might think of as an avatar) comes with all the accoutrements that that entails. She has fur, whiskers, and a tail. Those may come with some expanded sensations via implants, but in there, in the dream, her body knows how they work. She can wag her tail (if that's a thing that her species does, I don't know the specifics), can feel the ways in which the teeth of a comb move through her fur, can lick her chops, and has even told me that she enjoys having her ears petted. None of these, she told me, were things that she found possible via the 'net.
+
+This is a complete and total fundamental difference between us phys-side and those who live sys-side.
+
+And what a small one, too! Consider the larger ones:
+
+\begin{itemize}
+\item
+  \emph{Forking:} Those who upload can create copies of themselves. Complete and total copies that live and experience completely separate lives. Not only that, but when a fork wants (\emph{if} a fork wants!) it can merge back with the original copy or persona or whatever you want to call it, and then that persona has the memories of \emph{both} copies. This beggars the imagination: we simply have no way to \emph{actually} understand this, bound as we are by those pesky laws of physics.
+\item
+  \emph{Reputation markets:} Well, I say we're bound by the laws of physics, but on a subtler level, they are as well. The System only has so much capacity (though it is growing every few months), so in order to limit this potentially boundless expansion, there needs to be some factor which places limits on them, whether it's strictly for keeping bad actors at bay or simply to conserve space for new arrivals.
+
+  But of what use is money to them? They don't \emph{need} to eat. They don't \emph{need} to pay for travel. There is nothing for them to buy except this capacity to create, which means there is no money changing hands. Instead, they have decided on a currency of reputation. The more you do and interact and contribute, whether it is from being on the Council of Eight or simply having a really good conversation with a friend, you accrue reputation, and it is through this mechanism that one pays for expansion. Create more? Interact more? Gain the \emph{ability} to create more, the \emph{ability} to interact more.
+\item
+  \emph{Creative potential:} This is what happens when you combine the first point with the second. Say you are a mathematician. It can be frustrating to work on a complex problem one step at a time, and managing a team comes with its own problems. What if you had more brain power to throw at the problem, and that brain power had \emph{exactly the same knowledge} going into it? Obviously, there are plenty more situations that require collaboration with other unique individuals, but this alone makes it worthwhile. Already, there have been great contributions to the fields of math, theoretical physics, literature, and sociology/psychology. Hell, some of these are already being used to earn money which is being put to use in the day-to-day demands of the System. For them, though, this is the basis of an economy that cherishes such pursuits. Already, we are seeing more individuals in those fields uploading than any other.
+\end{itemize}
+
+When I think about all of these facts, I have to admit, I think that you may be right on the question of speciation. It is not just that we cannot interbreed with them, for that is a question of biology, and one party lacks that aspect. It is not just that they are not of human stock, for that is demonstrably not the case. But it does come down to a complete and fundamental change in the very fabric of being.
+
+The term ``post-human'' has been thrown around plenty, of course. It mostly fits, too, but I would argue that it also implies some remnant of humanity other than those within the System have (the creation of new, unique post-humans springs to mind). They are something \emph{more}. They are something \emph{different}. They are exohumans, perhaps. Post-biological. The language fails.
+
+They are uploads, and we are not.
+
+I stand by my firm argument against so many tired and played ones that I have seen. They are beings. A new species, perhaps, but we afford rights to \emph{beings}. We afford rights to \emph{individuals}. That they can fork presents new problems, but what has ever stood between humanity and a solution but staunch conservatism?
+
+Vote for the granting of rights. Vote yes on \emph{referendum 10b30188}
+
+Yared Zerezghi (NEAC)
+\end{quote}
+
+\noindent As soon as he received confirmation that his post was visible on the DDR forums, Yared backed out from his rig and headed for the door, stretching a crick out of his spine as he went.
+
+This had become routine. The action of posting a particularly frustrating essay to the forums had often been followed by going out for coffee, but now, as soon as he posted, he knew that Councilor Demma would arrive for a debriefing. This had turned into coffee together every two days. Yared would always go to the shop at the end of his street and wait for Demma's tireless driver to show up, buy three coffees and three pieces of himbasha, and lead him to the car. Sometimes, they drove out past the edge of the city to the fields of low-moisture corn and beans. Sometimes, they drove into the city center by Government House and circled the perimeter.
+
+Or, as today, they simply sat in Demma's car, sipping on coffees and nibbling sweet bread while they talked.
+
+``Mr.~Zerezghi,'' the well-dressed driver said, enough acknowledgement for the day.
+
+The owner of the coffee shop had already made their order as soon as Yared showed his face, so they collected their tray of drinks and food and walked through the late morning heat to the black car that stood idly by.
+
+As always, it took Yared a moment to acclimatize to the blast of conditioned air that greeted him when he slipped into the car, so Yosef Demma sipped his coffee and waited until Yared could speak once more.
+
+``Mr.~Zerezghi, a pleasure to see you as always. How are you? Have you had a good day?''
+
+``Yes, Councilor,'' Yared said, sipping at his coffee to stave off the chill of the air. ``I trust that you have as well?''
+
+``Quite good, quite good.''
+
+The formalities, those were also rote by now.
+
+``We have read your post. It is quite the well written essay.''
+
+Yared nodded. ``Thank you, sir.''
+
+The councilor leaned back against his seat, switching his coffee for a slice of the himbasha. ``You know, originally, my constituents and I were nervous about the idea of letting you craft your own posts. Many thought it unwise to let you choose your own words, thinking it best that we write your arguments for you and have you simply post them. I disagreed, as I think that something of your style would be lost in the process. You rely on a lot of imagery and word choices that are good at swaying readers, and I think this isn't necessarily a thing that my speech writers would be able to accomplish. You have recently changed their minds.''
+
+``I'm happy to hear that. I like to think I'm a good writer.''
+
+``You are, you are,'' Demma nodded. ``But it is always good to see that working to your advantage. To our advantage.''
+
+Yared suppressed a smile.
+
+``We are also pleased to see the way in which you incorporated our suggestion.''
+
+``I'm glad to hear. I was worried, I'll admit. It's not that I don't agree with the speciation argument, I just had originally worried that it was distracting from the topic at hand.''
+
+``Of course, Yared. You have your own reasons to argue for individual rights, and we do want to respect those. You must understand, however, that we have the benefit of a team of analysts on our side, and they have determined that, from the Direct Democracy angle, this is the most efficient way forward specifically for the secession movement.''
+
+Leaning back into his seat and holding his empty coffee cup in his hands to leach the last bits of warmth from it, Yared sighed. ``Of course. And as I mentioned, I'm not necessarily against the arguments you suggested.''
+
+The note had come late the night before, delivered via courier, along with an apology that he had been given so little time to work it into his next post. \emph{Begin to agree with speciation,} it had read, and a tang of distaste tickled at his senses. \emph{Not quickly, just hint that you're being swayed. Say you're starting to be convinced, but that this only strengthens your arguments.}
+
+Demma reached out a hand for Yared's cup, as he always did, and crumpled it together with his to dispose of in a waste basket hidden in the back of one of the seats of the car. ``Mr.~Zerezghi,'' he said, bowing slightly in his seat. ``Thank you once more. I won't take up any more of your time. You should have your next suggestion in the next day or two.''
+
+Yared returned the bow and, as if that were the command he was waiting for, the driver opened the door to let him out into the growing heat of the day. He swayed once more at the shock of the temperature difference.
+
+``Yared,'' the driver said, nodding, then slid back into the driver's seat of the car.
+
+Once he could walk again without stumbling, he made his way back to his room and out of the sun. It was air conditioned, yes, but the unit in the wall had seen better days. \emph{Much} better days.
+
+A sudden wave of exhaustion crashed over him, but all the same, he settled back into the chair before his rig and delved in once more.
+
+A message was already waiting for him at his desk, so, in the sim, he sat down before it, smiling inwardly at the oddly duplicated action.
+
+\begin{quote}
+\textbf{Jonas Prime:} Yared! Beautifully done. Ping when you're back around.
+\end{quote}
+
+\noindent He swiped a keyboard into view and instructed his desk to do just that.
+
+\begin{quote}
+\textbf{Jonas:} Welcome back. How goes?
+
+\textbf{Yared Zerezghi:} Well enough. Hot as ever. Thanks, by the way. Think the post will help?
+\end{quote}
+
+\noindent Inwardly, he fretted, worrying that his counterparts in the System had picked up on the slow change in direction over the last few posts.
+
+\begin{quote}
+\textbf{The Only Time I Know My True Name Is When I Dream:} Probably! I am pleased that you enjoyed my description of brushing and petting.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} I felt it got the point across quite nicely.
+
+\textbf{True Name}: That it did.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} We've been tracking the speciation argument, as far as we can see, and it's an interesting idea. I go back and forth on it. Sometimes, it feels like a distinction without a difference, and sometimes, phys-side ideas just leave me completely baffled. I've forgotten how strange the System sounded when I was outside of it.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} Yes. It is a good talking point, but also a line that you should walk carefully. I worry that it will lead the discussion back to the ``sub-human'' arguments that pop up here and there.
+\end{quote}
+
+\noindent His heart dropped. So they had picked up on the change.
+
+\begin{quote}
+\textbf{Yared:} I'm worried about that as well. Still, when I've argued on the forums in the past, I've found that building a strong argument and then slipping a little bit of empathy for the other side nudges them to do the same.
+\end{quote}
+
+\noindent A lie, but hopefully a helpful one.
+
+\begin{quote}
+\textbf{True Name:} I had not thought of that, but I was never big into the DDR. Calling it both ``Direct Democracy'' and a ``Representative'' made it sound disingenuous.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} I mean, it makes sense. If they start feeling our empathy in the equation, maybe they'll start feeling empathy towards us.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} That's the hope! Some of these people though\ldots{}
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} Numbskulls.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} Dipshits.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Both accurate.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} Just do not generate too much empathy in them. I do not want them latching onto anything to use against you.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} Against us, in the end.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Of course! I'll keep monitoring the forums and chatter, and it looks like some governments are waking up to it.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} Whoopee.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} I'll have you know that she just rolled her eyes at me.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} Jerk.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Haha. Still, I think it'll help. It means that this is is going to be taken into consideration and not just turn into a DDR-only referendum. If we get them discussing it, then we have a smaller target to influence. DDR votes carry less weight when gov'ts weigh in. They read the forums as much as any DDR junkie, so the arguments can sometimes carry more weight.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} As much as it pains me to admit, you have a point.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} When you get a chance, you and I can go into it more in depth, Yared.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Have some thoughts?
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} I was a politician phys-side, so, yeah.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} WHAT
+
+\textbf{True Name:} You are kidding.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} I'll have you know that she just punched me in the shoulder.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} And I will do it again. Fucking gross.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} I'll have you know that she did, indeed, do it again.
+\end{quote}
+
+\noindent Yared laughed. He was pleased to see them in good spirits.
+
+\begin{quote}
+\textbf{Yared:} Don't beat him up too bad, True Name. He probably does have some good info, even if it is a few years old.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} \ldots{}
+
+\textbf{True Name:} I GUESS
+\end{quote}

toledot/content/secession/phys/Yared/004.tex

@@ -0,0 +1,126 @@
+\hypertarget{yared-zerezghi-2124}{%
+\chapter{Yared Zerezghi—2124}\label{yared-zerezghi-2124}}
+
+\emph{Mention how the System almost feels like its own nation, mention L\textsubscript{5} but only in passing,} the note read. \emph{Expect agreement from a new faction. Act pleasantly surprised.}
+
+As he had found himself doing increasingly often, Yared stepped out of his apartment to walk the town and draft his new post in his head. They used to flow so easily, when each one did not feel like some school assignment.
+
+He walked out past the coffee shop, waving to the woman behind the counter, and shaking his head to an offer of coffee. He was already wired enough.
+
+He kept on walking, instead, out and down the street past apartments, the store where he bought his food, apartments, the restaurant that he ate at once every other week, and yet more apartments. Out and out until he ran into that patch of scrub that somehow never got developed, then right and into where the scrub turned into scattered bushes, and then trees. There had been a fence, once, but all that remained were the posts.
+
+He'd never bothered walking up here until he'd accepted the unnerving assignment to convince everyone to secede. Explicitly, to convince the DDR and various governments to allow it, but implicitly, he felt, to convince those he talked to on the System, as well. Convince True Name and Jonas to suggest it from the other side.
+
+It had been unnerving at first, at least.
+
+Why would he, a nobody who dumped all his free time into the 'net, into the DDR, be expected to make any change? He knew that, once a referendum was picked up by more than a couple of the various legislatures, it was hopeless to expect the DDR had any real impact. It became the joke that he was sure so many thought it was.
+
+He had picked up the topic of the System's individual rights as his next pet topic, for even though he had felt little interest in the System or its labyrinthine technologies at the time, when the previous bill he had hyper-fixated on had failed on the floor, and after a night of far too much tej, he needed to set his mind on \emph{something.}
+
+He didn't know why he did this, why he felt the need to dive into politics. He was a no one in Addis Ababa, a city which paled in importance in the NEAC, a governing body that paled in comparison to the others in the world.
+
+He had a data analysis job he could do from home reasonably well, and he didn't slack off while at work (though he did leave DDR alerts on in his field of view). He made enough of a living to stay in his apartment in an alright part of town. He was comfortable. He had no plans to upload.
+
+Or hadn't previously. The more he learned, the more enticing it seemed.
+
+It certainly seemed like an easier life than this, accepting messages from shadowy government agencies to try and influence what was supposed to be a direct means of being represented in the legislatures of the world. It was one thing to try to do so from one's own perspective, but to accept such influence, even if he was only paid in coffee and cake\ldots{}
+
+It had surprised him that he had even picked up the task at first. Secession seemed like such a strange thing to ask for. What did the NEAC---or any government, really---gain by having the System secede? What was the System doing that threatened them so much? There was the brain-drain that some feared, but this seemed to rely on some more basic instinct or need to have that which is different separated from that which was familiar.
+
+He didn't know why he had picked up the task, but it was working, even on him. \emph{Especially} on him. The idea of secession from a government's point of view was one that fit neatly into his worldview without him needing to change anything, and that was strange in and of itself.
+
+The System probably should secede. At that point, uploading became a simple matter of emigration, one to a country that was guaranteed to grant you residency. Not only that, but, though the cost might be high and the move permanent, it offered a ready-made haven for refugees, whether from the increasingly hot climate or the countless little spats along disputed borders. Uploading was an option for those who had nowhere else to go, and one that offered them more freedom than any other country on earth.
+
+And this new idea that had started showing up, first in his conversations with True Name and Jonas, and then on the DDR in general, of tacking the System onto one of the launches for the L\textsubscript{5} station construction. The timing---True Name and Jonas, then the DDR---made him wonder if the Council of Eight had its fingers in other pies, too.
+
+He wasn't sure how to feel about this. What an opportunity that had presented itself! All those arguments about the resources the System used would be all but put to rest. The station would house it, the station's solar power source would power it, and the Station Hotel's revenue would fund it. It would be another part of the tourists' experience. There were already plans for a new transmission system that would be easy enough to build for uploads to make it from Earth to the System without having to fly to the station first.
+
+It was all starting to feel like such a good idea, and some part of him felt embarrassed that Councilor Demma's bald-faced political machinations were working just as well on him as they promised to on the masses that filled the DDR forums.
+
+He realized he'd been so lost in thought that the wooded grove had already spat him out the other side, back into heat and back into traffic.
+
+``Well, shit,'' he mumbled, and began the long trek back to his apartment, polishing the draft of his post in his head.
+
+\begin{quote}
+I won't lie, I'm pleased to see this discussion take a turn to the positive. There are some great minds thinking and talking here. Here on the DDR forums, out on the 'net, and now out in the subcommittees that will feed into the legislatures of the world.
+
+What heartens me more than that, however, is to see some names that I had previously seen arguing \emph{against} independent rights now campaigning \emph{for} them (or, at the very least, neutral in tone). This is how the DDR is meant to work: it's a forum for us, the rank and file of the nations of the world, to be able to participate in the legislative process that will bind us in more ways than of old. No more relying solely on representatives. No more collecting signatures for yet another petition that will fall on deaf ears. No more letter writing campaigns that doubtless fed countless shredders and trash folders.
+
+To those arguing for independent rights, keep working hard, as there is still much to be done, but to those who are arguing against this referendum, I would like to address a few of those points that seem to keep cropping up:
+
+\emph{The System has no meaningful way for us to control its goings on, and thus could be a good place for disaffected citizens to coordinate with phys-side agents on acts of terrorism.}
+
+This is one of those arguments that is difficult to refute because, on the surface, it is indeed a potential reason that one might upload.
+
+That said, enough thought about how international terrorism works is enough to put this to bed as yet more FUD. First of all, it is the responsibility of each country to monitor their own citizens to within the limits of their national policies (and, let us not kid ourselves, well beyond). If a disaffected citizen is willing to engage in a terrorist act on their home soil, then it is the responsibility for the government to deal with that individual.
+
+I will grant that this leaves the upload to contend with. There is no easy way to detect whether or not the System has punished them, and there's certainly no way for them to be extradited, should they be discovered.
+
+Do not doubt your respective governments' abilities to track these actions, however. It is something of an open secret that they are always a decade ahead of us mere mortals when it comes to encryption, and thus cracking of those encryption methods used ten years prior. They'll be able to track communications from the System easily enough, just as they track any other form of text-based communication.
+
+(And to my NEAC government handler who reads all of my posts, finger hovering above the big, red `arrest' button: hello! I hope that you are well.)
+
+\emph{Without clear news sources coming out of the System, there is no way for us to tell that the Council of Eight is effective at governing those sys-side.}
+
+Disregarding the Council of Eight's mandate to ``guide but not govern'', I'm curious, now! What would a ``clear news source'' would look like?
+
+When one thinks about news sources here, one thinks of a stream of information about concrete events: what hurricane hit which part of North America; what stock jumped to what price; what the cricket scores are. These are all \emph{things.} They all have to do with \emph{stuff} or \emph{places} or \emph{money.}
+
+Think of one thing that has made news recently that does not have to do with any of those things. I will preempt many of your examples:
+
+\vspace{-0.25em}
+
+\begin{itemize}
+\tightlist
+\item
+  Legislation---that is, new laws to govern stuff, places, or money.
+\item
+  Scientific advances---that is, new ways to work with stuff, places, or money (and before you suggest theoretical sciences, consider that those are future ways to work with stuff. Psychological breakthroughs? Better ways to keep us happy so that we can produce and consume more stuff).
+\item
+  International relations---that is, which group people in which places have which stuff that which other group of people want.
+\item
+  Technological breakthroughs---stuff.
+\item
+  Exploration---places.
+\item
+  Travel, entertainment, comedy---commodified experiences.
+\end{itemize}
+
+\vspace{-0.25em}
+
+Here are some things that you might find in this theoretical news source that also appears in ours:
+
+\vspace{-0.25em}
+
+\begin{itemize}
+\tightlist
+\item
+  Opinions
+\item
+  Interpersonal relations
+\item
+  Religion, maybe?
+\end{itemize}
+
+When one is unbound by the constraints of stuff, places, or money, one finds that there is little news that is worth treating as news.
+
+Doubtless they have news out there. I don't mean to imply otherwise. Of what worth would it be to us to know of a cult surrounding, say, some upload who has found a neat thing to do with forking? Of what use is the knowledge of what is the new, hottest sim? Which of us really, truly cares about their petty squabbles?
+
+I would say that I do, but lets be honest, I can't even begin to understand those, but I can certainly respect their rights to have them.
+
+Now, tell me what effective governance looks like in such a system. Resources are controlled through the reputation market. As far as I can tell, there is no murder, there are no wars, fights can be over in a blink if one of the parties just leaves, and the worst offense someone can commit is stalking, and even then, one can be bounced from a sim.
+
+We come yet again to the idea of speciation. We are fundamentally different. Or, to use a metaphor from the first point, this is an entire \emph{society}, human or otherwise, that is fundamentally different, as one might see with the vast gulf between customs in different areas of the world.
+
+\emph{The L\textsubscript{5} station has no obligation to host the System.}
+
+Correct, and yet they volunteered. This is a non-argument for a non-problem.
+
+They are an international cooperative effort with business interests involved. The System is neither of those, true, but it is also not \emph{not} those, either. A nation to cooperate? It is not a nation, but I believe I've argued the point that, given fundamental differences, it might as well be. A business? It is not a business, but it does have employees and businesses associated with it, and it produces some delightful results in terms of the new ideas that constantly flow through the communications channels.
+
+Friends, I struggle to see the merit of many of these arguments, and of the ones that do hold water, there are sensible compromises available. These people are \emph{people,} and it has long been established that people deserve rights. They are a \emph{culture,} and it has long been established that cultures deserve protection.
+
+Vote for the granting of rights. Vote yes on \emph{referendum 10b30188}
+
+Yared Zerezghi (NEAC)
+\end{quote}

toledot/content/secession/phys/Yared/005.tex

@@ -0,0 +1,194 @@
+\hypertarget{yared-zerezghi-2124}{%
+\chapter{Yared Zerezghi — 2124}\label{yared-zerezghi-2124}}
+
+\begin{quote}
+\textbf{Yared Zerezghi:} I'm going to come clean right up front: I shouldn't be telling you this.
+
+\textbf{Jonas Prime:} Okay hold up.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} Before you actually tell us, I want to know why.
+
+\textbf{The Only Time I Know My True Name Is When I Dream:} As do I.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} I am sure you have your reasons, but if you need us to talk you out of it, we can do that, too.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Uh. Well, I wasn't \emph{specifically} told not to tell you, but I was left under the impression that I shouldn't be talking to you about this sort of stuff. Still, I've done my reading, and the line to the System is about as secure as it gets, and after all this time, I trust you well enough that you won't do anything crazy with the information, and that it'll probably help you in the end, as you work through all this sys-side.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} What, that you've been working with a government official who is making you steer the DDR towards considering secession?
+
+\textbf{Yared:} \ldots{}
+
+\textbf{Yared:} What the hell?
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Yes, but how the hell did you know that?
+
+\textbf{True Name:} Jonas has been waiting to drop that on you for some time now. He is currently laughing his ass off. You will have to forgive him.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} I mean, I am also laughing my ass off.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} I'm just more shocked than anything.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} I promise it's not out of cruelty, we just made a lucky guess, and I've been wanting it confirmed. Your tone at the start said it all.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} I guess I'm relieved.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} But also a little scared that everyone else has figured it out, too.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} I wouldn't count on it. Maybe some have, but few enough that they'll likely be laughed down as crackpot conspiracy theorists. Very few people pay as much attention to you as we do.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} Thank you for confirming this with us, though. It will help us work together more consistently between sys- and phys-side.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} That was my thought, as well.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} Was that all you were going to tell us?
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Most of it. I was just going to ask your help for the next step, afterwards. I'm \emph{definitely} not supposed to be doing that.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} Well, alright. How does this all work, anyway?
+
+\textbf{Yared:} I meet up with my handler, of sorts, on a regular basis, and we talk through the current sentiments, and then someone on his team will slip me a note specifying how I should steer my next post. Sometimes I'll write two or three posts on the subject, just so they can keep an eye on the response, then I'll get the next note.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} And this handler, are his initials YD?
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Okay, now you hold up.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} I \emph{need} to know how you guys figured that one out.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} Politician, remember?
+
+\textbf{True Name:} We noticed the contents of your posts starting to shift, then started considering possible sources that might be guiding you. That led us to council members, and from there, we were able to sift through who is on the council and come up with a short list of names. Yosef Demma just happened to be at the top.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} You still have me worried that others have this all figured out. Jonas, convince me not to worry. You're the politician, I'm the scared DDR junkie trying not to get stoned to death. Or worse, have my DDR account suspended.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} Alright, I'll try. I promise, no stoning. The number one advantage that we have is an entire team of instances working with you and on essentially no other projects. That means we have the resources to send a few of them chasing after this hunch that someone was steering you, do some textual analysis, find the patterns, then do some digging into NEAC politics, looking for people with both the resources, the motive, and the personality to pull it off.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} Remember, most of this team were phys-side politicians, too, so we have that head-start. The worst you have to worry about is the WF or S-R Bloc doing the same with their own people after they find out. We haven't seen evidence of that yet.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Multiple phys-side politicians?
+
+\textbf{True Name:} Multiple Jonases.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Oh! There are multiple forks working on this?
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} Of course.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} That's what I mean when I said few people pay as much attention to you as we do.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} Does that soothe your fears?
+
+\textbf{Yared:} I think so, yeah. Do you agree with Jonas on this, True Name?
+
+\textbf{True Name:} Having spent a considerable time with him and some of his forks, I trust him on this, yes.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} Now, can you tell us as much as you are comfortable about councilor Demma, your relationship with him, and what you suspect are his goals?
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Well, we meet for coffee regularly, like I said, and usually drink it in his car while his driver takes us around town. He seems like a nice, older gentleman, and pretty trustworthy. I suspect that's a bad sign in a politician.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} No comment.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Well, either way, he's nice enough to me, and I guess that's probably how he got me working for him. I think his motives basically boil down to the fact that the System has diverged considerably from the culture of any of the political entities left phys-side, both by virtue of who winds up there, and the obvious reasons of not sharing any of our concerns around trade goods.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} He is not wrong, but I do not think that is motive enough.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} I don't either. I suspect that he's not keen on something about the System where it is, whether that's its location in the S-R Bloc or that it remains a multinational entity where uploads retain their citizenship back phys-side. Maybe he just wants to make it a separate nation in order to allow it to be a place to send refugees, asylum seekers, and so on. Or maybe he wants to restrict emigration.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} Those are all good potential reasons, yes. Do you have any hints as to which may be the most likely?
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Not particularly. He's mentioned them all in passing.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} Alright. Keep us up to date, then.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} What was your most recent message from Demma and his people?
+
+\textbf{Yared:} That's what I wanted to talk to you about, actually.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} The thing that you're not supposed to do. Right.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Right. The message was: ``Gently broach the subject of secession. Keep it only to one sentence, and only as an offhand remark. Make it sound like it was sys-side's idea.''
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} Wow, that's not exactly subtle.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} Seems like a shitty thing to do.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} But that is coming from someone sys-side, so perhaps he sees it differently. My assessment is that he might not actually be wrong on this. If he pins it on us but does it gently enough, it can be seen as a situation where both parties are happy to agree on something. It will have to be done carefully, however. If it is suggested too strongly or too early, we risk the possibility of backlash for seeming too eager for secession, as though we are rebelling. If it is not suggested strongly enough, some might see it as secession being forced on us. Jonas? Thoughts?
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} I think you're spot on for the DDR. Yared, has any mention of secession come up in the forums yet?
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Only two or three times, but given that this topic is starting to be taken up on the governmental level, that amounts to almost none. That said, I'm seeing quite a few people taking to the launch idea, which they're now equating to something equivalent to secession---they're calling it separation from Earth or resource independence, stuff like that---as well as more talk about international rights, given that sys-side individuals technically retain their citizenship, which makes the System something like international waters.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} Clever. That might be far enough to drop some very subtle hints. I'm not sure about the word `secession' yet, given some of its past connotations. You've suggested that we have the nature of statehood, but you might try pushing harder on referring to us as a nation, a national entity, a nation-state, and so on. Maybe even use the word `statehood' directly.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} Do you have anything written yet?
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Sure, one moment.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} We continue to circle around this discussion of individual rights as though we are debating the individuality of those sys-side. It's important to understand, though, that this is a distraction from the actual point. Many have mentioned that those who have uploaded, whether or not they are individuals, are no longer analogous to humans (there's that speciation argument again!) and one wag even put it, ``Who cares if they're individuals? They can't even vote!''
+
+\textbf{Yared:} This is quite true, my dear wag. They can't vote. They have no say in our political affairs out here, just as we have no say in theirs. How could we? I mean, sure, I bet some of them read DDR posts and wonder \emph{what the hell is going on out there?} But consider what their politics must look like to us. What would \emph{we} vote on? Whether or not they must post signage that their sims allow non-euclidean space? Is it okay for you to try and impersonate someone when you can become like them to exacting detail (except for, surprise, their individual personality)?
+
+\textbf{Yared:} I think we're still split pretty evenly on speciation. Even I am. One day, I'll think, ``Sure, they may be fundamentally different from us, but they still \emph{think} like us. They still reason like humans. Except for the biological differences, they still are.'' Other days, though, I'll wake up and think, ``We have no common frame of reference with these people. They're just too different.''
+
+\textbf{Yared:} This actually came up in a few conversations with my friends sys-side. It sounds like they share some of that ambivalence toward speciation. They can't interface with phys-side as we can, and we can't interface with sys-side as they can, so how could they even be considered the same species as us? And yet here they are, taking place in a political debate as filigreed and baroque as any other, and doing so with the same rational minds that we have, even if only at one remove. ``At this point,'' one of them said as we laughed over another fruitless debate. ``I'm not even sure we should be discussing individual rights with governments that have no way of knowing how we work. We might as well just secede and end the discussion there.''
+
+\textbf{Yared:} But who knows if speciation will even wind up playing into it, in the end. I've noticed that, even though we remain split on the topic, tempers have cooled on both sides. I'm surprised---pleasantly so!---to see this agreement building even in Cairo; I know that many of my compatriots there bore apathy or even antipathy towards the System after previous dealings between the NEAC and the S-R Bloc. We're no longer at each others throats about whether or not they're so fundamentally different from us that it requires some strange new way to think of them as individuals.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} And honestly, that's my hope. I think that way whether or not they're humans, whether or not they have their own customs and social structure, whether or not they're even a separate country. Even those who are falling on the side of speciation are starting to refer to them in terms of individuals. ``Them.'' ``How many of them.'' ``Who in there even thinks X?'' All of these are ways that we refer to individuals, and, you who are still arguing this belabored point that they should have no choice on what is done with their personalities once\pagebreak\ their bodies are gone, you are now thinking of them as what they are: individuals.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} That, my friends, feels like progress to me. We are starting to come to an understanding of what the System is, whether it's a home for the disaffected and dying, an international forum where individuals can truly live together, or a country in its own right, is home to thousands of individuals, each with their individual lives, individual reasons, individual feelings. They're people. The System is their home. We cannot take that from them without violating their individual rights.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} Well written as always, Yared.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} Agreed. You have a way of agreeing with people just enough to make them feel like you might actually be on their side, and that perhaps they ought to work toward the same goal.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Thank you both. What do you think about the secession angle?
+
+\textbf{True Name:} It is a little blunt. It feels forced, the way it is just stuck in there. Perhaps you might soften it from ``We might as well just secede'', to something more like ``We would have better luck running our own government'', something like that. I agree with Jonas that there is fear bound up in the word `secede', and the phrase ``better luck'' implies a humorous remark.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} Yeah. You want us to be soft, kind, approachable, that sort of thing, especially if you're going to use your current tactic of ``agree with them enough to get them to fight for you''. We want to seem like good people who deserve our individual rights, that\pagebreak\ to not grant them would be, at best, a real shame, and at worst, an affront to their own ideas of freedom.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} This is especially true, given that very few phys-side are acting as our voices. They are arguing on second- and third-hand accounts, such as your own. To them, uploads are this mysterious entity that they might struggle to actually comprehend. You will have to, perhaps ironically, humanize us for them. We have to seem like we can still joke around, still hurt, and still feel the full range of human emotion.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} You've seen True Name and I joking around, after all.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Yeah. So what do you think about: ``At this point,'' one of them said as we laughed over another fruitless debate, ``I'm not even sure we should be discussing individual rights with governments that have no way of knowing how we work. We'd have better luck running our own government. We can herd our cats, they can herd theirs.''
+
+\textbf{True Name:} I like that. I am enough like a cat to be difficult to herd.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} Confirmed. Getting her to do anything she doesn't want to do is fucking impossible.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} I prefer to think of myself as `staunchly independent', thank you very much.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Haha
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Actually, how about I include some banter into the post?
+
+\textbf{Yared:} ``At this point,'' one of them said, as we laughed over another fruitless debate. ``I'm not even sure we should be discussing individual rights with governments that have no way of knowing how we work. We'd have better luck running our own government.''
+
+\textbf{Yared:} To which the other replied, ``We can herd our cats, they can herd theirs,'' thus spawning a good five minutes of cat-herding jokes, wherein we unilaterally decided that cats were, to put it politely, staunchly independent. I think that applies to them as much as it does to us.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} I like it! It'll need a bit of cleaning up to make it flow a little better in context, but I trust that that's something you can do on your own.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Of course.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} I am sorry to make such a cat out of you in this situation, Yared. You are being herded by two different camps, us and your councilor friend. Our goals align for now, for which I am grateful, but I understand that having both parties tell you not to tell the other about them is uncomfortable.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} On that note, it is probably best not to tell Demma about this conversation.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} Seconded.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Thirded. I don't know that he'd have my head on a platter if he knew that this conversation had taken place, but I don't know that he wouldn't, either.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} We don't want that, we like you too much.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} I was going to say that you are too useful to us, but I will grudgingly agree that we do rather like you.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} I'm pleased to hear that!
+
+\textbf{Yared:} I'll get this polished and posted. What's next on your side?
+
+\textbf{True Name:} Jonas will likely be snooping around for news and schmoozing where appropriate. I will be focusing on how to present this in the most empathetic, understandable way possible to the Council and other interested parties. I need to sell it to the System.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Does that mean you're for secession, then?
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} If the L\textsubscript{5} launch goes through, yes. If not, then it becomes more complicated, and we likely \emph{would} have to move to international waters.
+\end{quote}

toledot/content/secession/phys/Yared/006.tex

@@ -0,0 +1,150 @@
+\hypertarget{yared-zerezghi-2124}{%
+\chapter{Yared Zerezghi — 2124}\label{yared-zerezghi-2124}}
+
+For the first time since their arrangement had begun, Yared was greeted at his own door, rather than at the coffee shop down on the corner.
+
+He had yet to start his day, instead reveling in the cool quiet of the morning, before the sun levered itself up over the roof of his building to shine through his window and before the thrum of the air conditioning took over. The cool, the quiet, his pillow, his sheets, and the blessed nullity of not yet being awake enough to think, to worry.
+
+At least the knock on his door was polite.
+
+He hurried to throw on his clothes and kick his bed into something resembling a made state, toss last night's take-out container in the trash, and rub the last of the sleep from his eyes before answering the door.
+
+``Mr.~Zerezghi.'' Councilor Demma's driver nodded cordially. ``The councilor would like to speak with you at your earliest convenience.''
+
+\emph{At your earliest convenience} seemed to imply right now, so Yared nodded and kicked on his sandals to follow the suit out of the hallway and into the street. The pavement and buildings had yet to start to bake, but he could tell that it would be another day of hiding inside, or skittering from one air-conditioned place to another.
+
+\emph{If I make it through this,} he thought.
+
+Demma's car was parked down the block and on the other side of the street, and Yared was pleased to see a carrier with three paper coffee cups in it sitting on the roof. If nothing else, he'd be able to wake up a little, and that would provide him some semblance of normalcy to this strange shift in protocol.
+
+``Yared, wonderful to see you. I trust you are alright?'' Demma said, once he was seated in the car, coffee in hand. It felt far too chilly.
+
+``I'm well, councilor. I wasn't expecting to talk until later today.''
+
+The politician waved the statement away and nodded toward the driver, who slid the car smoothly out into the street and drove towards, Yared assumed, the city center.
+
+``I must apologize for waking you early. Please, enjoy your coffee for a moment. I am happy to enjoy the scenery for a while.''
+
+Something about that statement, or perhaps Demma's tone of voice, made it sound more like a command than a suggestion, so Yared did just that, sipping on his coffee as it cooled, as his mind raced. \emph{Did I do something wrong? Am I being taken to prison? No, almost certainly not, if Councilor Demma is here. Why am I being made to wait? Am I supposed to feel uncomfortable, or does he actually just want me awake?}
+
+After Yared finished his coffee and set his cup aside, Demma smiled.
+
+``Mr.~Zerezghi, I would like to thank you for all of your work on the project at hand. I believe that we have both seen the ways in which it is shaping the discussion on our small part of the 'net, yes? There are other forces at work, to be sure, but your voice is loud, and our little faction is adding in resources behind the scenes, as you have no doubt noticed.''
+
+Yared nodded, waiting for the hammer to fall.
+
+``I would, however, like to know the identity of who your contacts are, sys-side.''
+
+He tilted his head. ``What? Why?''
+
+Demma sighed and set aside his own coffee. ``I have a suspicion that I know who one of them is, and I would like confirmation of that. I would appreciate if you would tell me, so that I do not need to tip my hand and send you hunting him down. You understand.''
+
+``I suppose.'' Yared bit his lip and considered the possible consequences of sharing the names of his contacts, deciding that if he shared just one, that perhaps that would be enough without compromising the identity of both. ``You say `he'. The man that I'm in discussions with is named Jonas. Is that the one you're thinking of?''
+
+The councilor groaned and slouched back into the cushy microfiber seat. ``Yes. I was afraid of that.''
+
+``How so?''
+
+``He is a very slippery man, Yared. While I suppose that it's nice that his goals align with ours on the issue of rights and secession---I can read between the lines as well as he can, I know who he's tapped phys-side---that is not always guaranteed to be the case.'' He finished his own coffee and accepted Yared's cup when offered to dispose of in the trash. ``Slippery and manipulative. I worry that you are at risk of being played by him, of becoming his puppet.''
+
+\emph{Aren't I already yours?} he thought. Instead, he said, ``He seems friendly enough, but I guess I can see how that might be used to guide me. He hasn't asked for any favors or anything, at least.''
+
+``And have you told him about our little agreement?'' When Yared quailed under Demma's gaze, the councilor shook his head. ``I cannot say I'm pleased, Mr.~Zerezghi, but I'm also not particularly surprised.''
+
+Yared wiped his palms against his thighs, shaking his head. ``He guessed, councilor. He asked, and even knew it was you. I'm sorry, sir, I don't think there's anything I could have done to stop him from doing that.''
+
+``Oh, did he now?'' Demma's laugh was earnest. ``I'm not particularly surprised at that, either, and I suppose it does let you off the hook somewhat, doesn't it?''
+
+All he could think to do was nod.
+
+``Well, if Jonas Anderson has figured out what we're up to, that does change things somewhat. I know that our latest suggestion was that you mention independence for the first time. I'd like to modify that somewhat, if you haven't already written your post.''
+
+``Not yet. I was going to do it this morning before our usual meeting.''
+
+``Yes, well, do hold off for a little longer. I would like you to change it so that you quote Jonas in mentioning independence. Do keep his name out of your posts, of course. It's probably best that he remain your `friend' and not `one of the slickest politicians in the Western Federation' when people read what you have to say.'' Demma smiled kindly, adding, ``And if I may ask you a favor, please don't consult him about this post before you send it. You're welcome to keep talking with him and whoever his companion is, we won't restrict your access to that. Perhaps they're even another copy of him. I just want to hear what his reaction is when you put the word `independence' in his mouth.''
+
+``Of course, sir.''
+
+Nodding, the councilor said, ``Thank you, Yared. I'm glad to see that we are more on the same page, now. Stay wary of Jonas Anderson, maintain your friendship, and keep me up to date about the things that he says that don't make it into your posts. As long as our goals align, we should be able to work together through you.''
+
+``You won't talk to him?'' Yared asked.
+
+``That's far to risky for my current position. It's plausibly deniable that you were already talking to him before we reached our agreement, should that agreement be made public. It's true enough, isn't it? If I were to talk to him, though\ldots{}'' He trailed off with a shrug and a half-smile.
+
+``I understand.''
+
+``I'm glad that you do.'' Demma flicked his eyes up to the driver's rear-view mirror, and the car slid to a halt in a parking spot. ``Mr.~Zerezghi, a pleasure as always. We will be keeping an eye out for your post later today.''
+
+Yared sat up, looking out through the window at the outskirts of the financial district. It would easily be an hour's walk back to his apartment, and about as long of a bus-ride. He didn't even have his phone.
+
+The councilor was already holding his hand out to shake, so there seemed to be no argument that this is where he should leave. He shook the hand, climbed out of the car, and watched it slide off into traffic once more.
+
+Trudging to the nearest bus stop, he thought, \emph{I suppose as long as this is the only punishment that I get, I shouldn't be too concerned.}
+
+At least the bus was air conditioned, and it gave him time to draft his post in his head.
+
+\begin{quote}
+I cannot express just how pleased I am to say that I have no arguments to dispute, this time!
+
+It's tempting to slack off in one's campaigning when things start to swing one's way, but even I know that complacency will provide a wedge for dissenters to gain a foothold, so, despite the heat, I'm back with another of my posts. You'll all have to live with me so long as this issue is on the table, and doubtless, you'll have to keep living with me once I pick up my next little fixation. Both friends and foes will understand, even if their opinions of that fact differ.
+
+Today, then, instead of refuting arguments, I'd just like to express some of my gratitude and provide an overview of what is going on and why it is that I'm so pleased.
+
+First, I'm happy to see that the argument about speciation has all but stopped as an argument about independence. Oh, sure, it continues elsewhere on the 'net, but it's been all but dropped from the comments about this referendum. It remains fascinating to many of us, of course. The more I talk with my friends sys-side, the more I find myself split on the idea, and even they seem to have their own opinions on it. One of them said, ``Who even cares? We're still ourselves,'' to which the other responded, ``Right, but just think about how much of a wrench that it will throw into evolution.''
+
+Second, I'm happy to see the amendment to move the System to the L\textsubscript{5} station has been tacked onto the bill. It's mostly a formality, at this point. Those who work with the System phys-side have already signed a deal with the launch coordinators, and the amendment is simply to recognize that this is the case from a governmental point of view. It may make talking to my friends somewhat more difficult, due to the transmission delay, but I'm sure we'll survive. When I joked to them that, in space, no one can hear their ceaseless banter, they agreed that it was probably for the best, and said that they were looking forward to moving to cooler climes.
+
+Last, of course, I'm pleased to see the interest that the world's governments are taking in the issue. Sure, that means that our role here on the DDR is diminished, but \emph{it is not gone.} We have as much a say in the legislation as any one of them does. This is where my caution about not slacking will pay off. We have the S-R Bloc on our side, and the various African coalitions are drifting that way as well. The Western Fed seems to be cautiously on board. But we are still waiting on hearing from the middle eastern countries, Japan, and SEAPAC, which means that we will need to stay vigilant. While I suspect that Japan will side with individual rights, and the middle east will remain largely apathetic, I have no idea which way SEAPAC will swing, so our vote must still be counted among them as a voice in favor of the referendum.
+
+Now, instead of arguing any further points, I'd like to provide you with something lighter. I know that many enjoy the little snippets of conversation that I have with my friends sys-side, so I'm going to share a bit more of that with you. It's fun, yes, but I hope that it will continue to build empathy with them and their existence, even if I am not any good at writing anything beyond polemics on the 'net. As always, I will be protecting their identities, so I will go with John and Tara for their names.
+
+When John joked about moving to the coldness of space, I, naturally, complained about the heat.
+
+``How hot is it there?'' he asked.
+
+I said, ``Right now? About 43C.''
+
+Tara said, ``Yeowch. That is far too warm.'' (This is not actually what she said. She has quite a mouth on her, but I will soften that for the sake of propriety.)
+
+John said, ``You're covered almost entirely in black fur. You'd be warm in Antarctica.''
+
+She responded, ``Well, yes, I am \emph{here}. If I were actually in Antarctica, however, I would not be covered by fur that is a part of my body. A fur coat might be nice, however.''
+
+I asked, ``How does that work, anyway? Do you feel like a human except in a different shape?''
+
+Her response was a while in coming. ``Yes and no. I look different, to be sure. Anyone who has seen a furry can probably imagine what that means. My av on the 'net allowed me some sensation of that, in that I was provided with a vague sense of touch on my tail, and the sensation of my ears had been moved higher up on my head to approximate the location where the ears of {[}my species{]} are located. Having a muzzle worked well enough. Here, though, the proprioception is complete in a way that an avatar could not hope to be. It made the avatar feel more like a set of clothes and a mask than it did an actual form. Here, it is my form. It made my avatar feel almost cartoonish, with the standard fur patterns a bit too exact and the claws on my fingers nearly identical. Here it can be---must be---as detailed as I would like. My claws wear at different rates, fur colors mingle organically. That is a sign of aposematism, did you know that? It is a warning to those who would attack to stay away. I could even smell like my species, should I choose, though I have not.''
+
+John said, ``Confirmed. She smells like flowers.''
+
+I asked, ``Why did you choose that form?''
+
+She said, ``Because I wanted to and I could. It is what I am used to from my time before uploading. I think that I originally chose it for that concept of aposematism. I had probably gone through a bad breakup and was looking for something that said, ``Stay away, I am independent.'' I had terrible luck with relationships.''
+
+John said, ``She's more independent than is good for her, sometimes.''
+
+As this was the point in the conversation that I figured I might include it in a post, I guided it toward the topic at hand, saying, ``Is that why you're so interested in individual rights?''
+
+Tara said, ``Yes, in a way. You have to understand, though, that many of the arguments against them that you have shared sound mind-boggling at best, impossible at worst.''
+
+John said, ``We're more independent than I think a lot of people phys-side give us credit for. You keep talking of us as though we're almost a separate country, and honestly, you're not wrong. We've been questioning what the reasoning is for retaining dual citizenship other than for governments that essentially have no power over us to claim the rights to whatever it is we send out. We're ungovernable by conventional standards, and I wouldn't be surprised if someone does file a referendum for us to drop the pretense and become our own country in the next few months.''
+
+I asked, ``If you did, would you participate alongside the other world governments?''
+
+John said, ``Maybe on some things, but we wouldn't be able to relate to much in the way of legislation.''
+
+Tara said, ``If we do, John will have to be the representative. He is the politician.''
+
+John replied, ``You keep saying you're not a politician like that does anything to convince people that you are anything but, my dear.''
+
+I let them banter for a bit. The only other salient point was brought up by John, who said, ``If a vote for independence does show up, make sure you vote for it. It'll make all of our lives so, so much easier.''
+
+So, that was our conversation. I hope that this helps you understand a bit more what the lives of those who live sys-side are like. They joke around. They have strong opinions. They can look like anthropomorphic animals if they want. Who cares if they're human? Who cares if their bodies have died? They're just as real as any of us, and they deserve all of the same rights.
+
+Vote for the granting of rights. Vote yes on \emph{referendum 10b30188}.
+
+Yared Zerezghi (NEAC)
+\end{quote}
+
+\noindent He read over his post a few times to make sure it looked alright, then hit post and immediately backed out from his rig. He knew that he'd come back to messages from Jonas and True Name. He couldn't guess at what their tone would be, but he knew that he wasn't ready to deal with them.
+
+He just knew that he needed something spicy to eat and at least two glasses of wine.

toledot/content/secession/phys/Yared/007.tex

@@ -0,0 +1,195 @@
+\hypertarget{yared-zerezghi-2124}{%
+\chapter{Yared Zerezghi — 2124}\label{yared-zerezghi-2124}}
+
+\begin{quote}
+\textbf{Amendment to referendum 10b30188}
+
+The entity known as the System, with regards to its inhabitants, shall hereby secede and become its own self-governing entity.
+
+\begin{enumerate}
+\def\labelenumi{\arabic{enumi}.}
+\tightlist
+\item
+  Those who have uploaded to live on the System shall no longer hold their citizenship (sometimes known as ``dual citizenship'') to their country of origin.
+\item
+  The creations of those who have uploaded to live on the System shall henceforth be considered as originating in and governed by the System as a political entity.
+\item
+  The System as a self-governing entity shall enter into trade agreements with other governmental entities for goods and services required to maintain the System as a physical entity.
+\item
+  The exchange of goods and services between the System and the governmental entity named in the trade agreement shall be binding for those two parties only.
+\item
+  The act of uploading to the System shall be considered one of emigration, and regulations around immigration shall be set only by the System.
+\item
+  No governmental entity may set undue barriers to uploading to the System beyond existing expatriation agreements, nor may they intimidate, dissuade, or otherwise hinder citizens from choosing to emigrate.
+\item
+  As a separate governmental entity, the System shall be a valid destination for asylum-seekers and refugees regardless of their reasons for seeking such, with regulations for acceptance being set by the System as a self-governing entity.
+\item
+  Due to the nature of the System, the following limitations shall be put in place on this governmental entity:
+
+  \begin{enumerate}
+  \def\labelenumii{\alph{enumii}.}
+  \tightlist
+  \item
+    It shall not provide favor to any one governmental entity over another except through the agreements set above.
+  \item
+    It shall not enact any trade embargo, tariff, or other restriction on trade against any other governmental entity.
+  \item
+    It shall not be able to declare war on any other governmental entity.
+  \item
+    No other governmental entity shall declare war on or attempt to destroy the physical elements of the System.
+  \item
+    No other governmental entity shall aid or abet another governmental entity to conspire against the System.
+  \end{enumerate}
+\item
+  The physical elements of the System including but not limited to the System hardware, resource infrastructure, and the ``Ansible system'' required for uploading shall be considered property of the System as a governmental entity, with the offices containing the ``Ansible system'' being considered an international zone.
+\item
+  The System as a governmental entity shall enact any and all regulations relating to its own governance, which no other governmental entity may hinder.
+\end{enumerate}
+
+\emph{Sponsors:}
+
+\paragraph{Direct Democracy Representative signatory}
+
+Yared Zerezghi (NEAC) via Direct Democracy Representative, author.
+
+\paragraph{Supervisory government signatory}
+
+Yosef Demma (NEAC), Councilor.
+
+\paragraph{System-side signatories}
+
+The Only Time I Know My True Name Is When I Dream of the Ode clade by way of Michelle Hadje (Council of Eight), Council-member.\\
+Jonas Prime of the Jonas clade by way of Jonas Anderson (Council of Eight), Council-member.
+
+November 28, 2124
+\end{quote}
+
+\noindent The response to the proposal was immediate and dramatic.
+
+Yared had not known what exactly it was that he was expecting, but it certainly was not an immediate division within the DDR, with one half being suddenly and intensely for the referendum and its amendments, each for their own reasons, and the other half being suddenly and intensely against the referendum for completely separate reasons he could not fathom.
+
+It was not that he hadn't expected some division, but the strength of the divisiveness of the amendment itself was alarming. Where once there had been general consensus on the issue of individual rights and the L\textsubscript{5} launch amendment, there was suddenly no guarantee that the referendum itself would actually pass. It had been a foregone conclusion, and now, in the matter of minutes, the entire thing seemed to be crumbling around him, and, with his name attached as author and DDR signatory, he was responsible.
+
+His instinct was to leave. To run. To hide. Some adrenal reaction drove him to back out of the 'net, throw on his cap and nearly sprint from his apartment.
+
+He made it the several blocks up to the useless, wooded patch of ground before he calmed down enough to realize that, not only had he left behind any chance of responding to the flurry of comments on the referendum and its amendment (unless he wanted to use the clunky interface for doing so on his phone), but also any chance of syncing up with True Name and Jonas on the events.
+
+Now here he was, huddling at the base of a scraggly tree like some hunted thing, an animal seeking only to never be seen by unknown predators. Now here he was, completely alone.
+
+And yet he couldn't force himself to rise. Couldn't force himself to get up from his crouching position, couldn't force himself to walk back to his apartment or, really, anywhere else, couldn't even force himself to pull his phone from his pocket and get in touch with\ldots well, who would he even contact? The only one he interacted with in the subject---really, the only one he interacted with offline in any sincere capacity, these last few months---was Councilor Demma.
+
+Given this reaction, that seemed ill-advised.
+
+So he sat for an hour, back pressed against the trunk of the tree, searching for anything he could think of to ground himself.
+
+With a thrill up his spine along the exocortex and a gentle ping from his implants, his phone began to ring. Fears surged within him once again, and a glance at the screen confirmed those fears.
+
+Demma.
+
+``Shit, shit.'' He stood, paced around the tree in a circle. ``Shit. Shit, goddamn.''
+
+He stared at his phone for a few long seconds, torn on whether or not to let it simply go to voicemail.
+
+Eventually, that part of his mind lost out to the desire to hopefully find some reassurance, so he tapped at the phone to answer the call.
+
+``Mr.~Zerezghi,'' the councilor said. ``Wonderful to hear from you. I was wondering if you had a few moments to talk? We stopped by the coffee shop and knocked at your door, but there was no answer.''
+
+``My apologies, councilor. I went for a walk to clear my head. I'm\ldots{}'' He squinted around at the trees, then walked back to the street he'd come up. ``I'm at the wooded park area, a ways north of my place. Does your driver know where that is?''
+
+There was a moment's muffled conversation, then, ``Of course. We'll meet you on the road, yes? The residential side?''
+
+``Yes. I'll be waiting.''
+
+After the click of Demma hanging up, Yared trudged back the way he'd come.
+
+It was a short walk of perhaps only a minute or two, but even so, the car was waiting for him, the driver already standing beside it, waiting to open the door to let him in to talk.
+
+``Yared, wonderful to see you, as always!'' Demma said cheerfully. ``Please, sit! We have much to talk about. I'm sorry that I was not able to provide our usual coffee, but there's water behind the seat if you'd like.''
+
+Settling into the cushy and cold spot that he'd found himself in so many times before, Yared shook his head. ``No, thank you. I'm sorry I wasn't at home, I wasn't expecting you.''
+
+Demma waved the comment away. ``It's alright, quite alright. We probably should have planned better on when to introduce the amendment in order to meet up afterwards, but, well, we knew it was going to be today, so we figured that you'd be ready to meet either way.''
+
+``I just\ldots I just needed a walk.''
+
+``Burning off some steam? Enjoying some fresh air?''
+
+He fiddled with the hem of his shirt for a moment, then shrugged. ``I was a little surprised by the response to the amendment. It was making me anxious, and I stepped away to calm down.''
+
+``Of course, of course.'' Demma leaned forward to pat Yared on the knee before reclining again, looking relaxed, pleased. ``I've not been monitoring the DDR myself, but my assistants have been keeping me up to date. It sounds like there's a little bit of an uproar, there. You've certainly touched a nerve.''
+
+Yared nodded, numb. He could tell he was dissociating, feeling remote from his own body, yet couldn't do anything to bring himself back to the moment.
+
+``I have some thoughts on the response, both on the DDR and among the various representatives I've talked to, but I'd like to hear your anxieties first, to see if I can soothe them.''
+
+``I just wasn't expecting it to blow up in my face like that. There was so much general agreement on the ideas you've suggested. You and Jonas, I mean. I thought that it was all vague and positive enough to seem like the natural conclusion to the ongoing conversation, and it's not like it's the first amendment I've written--''
+
+``Indeed not,'' Demma said, laughing. ``That's part of why we chose you.''
+
+``Right. So I'm just not sure why it just all immediately went wrong. There was nothing in there that hadn't already been discussed in the forums, and even on the 'net from governmental types.''
+
+The councilor tugged at his chin absentmindedly. ``I think that there are a few reasons for that, Mr.~Zerezghi. The first is that there were no other co-authors on the bill, so it looked rather sudden. Even if you've been leading the effort quite effectively, and others look up to you, I can imagine that some see it as a power-grab once you'd reached that consensus.
+
+``Another reason is that you used the word `secede', which is something of a naughty word in many jurisdictions. North America in particular has some quite strong feelings on the matter, given the troubles of the last century. Don't misunderstand me, you had to use it for legislative reasons, but it still spun several people into a panic, particularly in what remains of the United States. Does that make sense?''
+
+``Yes, I suppose, but others were already using it. Respected voices, even. It's not the first time it's come up.''
+
+``Of course, but it is the first time it's been put in front of everyone as something they must consider.''
+
+Yared frowned. ``If that's the case, then perhaps we should have waited for a separate referendum.''
+
+``No, I don't think so.'' Demma smiled, looking very much the kind, grandfatherly type. ``Or rather, our analysts didn't think so. They ran several situations through their various models and came to the conclusion that an amendment was the best path forward.''
+
+``Why, though? I don't see how introducing something so divisive would lead to anything other than either the entire referendum getting thrown out or, at best, delaying the process for months.''
+
+``There may indeed be a small delay as debate kicks up again.'' Demma nodded toward Yared. ``Which we will help you participate in, much as we have up to this point. Still, broaching the idea as an amendment is a good way to get this idea in the forefront of people's minds. They can have the debate with lower pressure on acceptance. They can always vote on the original referendum without passing the amendment, correct?''
+
+Yared nodded.
+
+``So, if that happens, at that point, we can spin it off into its own referendum, and by then, much of the debate will have already taken place, and we can continue to work through the whole process calmly, as we have been.'' He spread his hands, still smiling. ``It is all a matter of risk management, Mr.~Zerezghi. You understand.''
+
+``I suppose.''
+
+``Have you had a chance to speak with Jonas and his strangely named friend yet?''
+
+He shook his head. ``Not yet. Like I said, I started to panic and went for my walk.''
+
+Demma nodded. ``I suggest you do as soon as you get back. I'm curious to hear their opinion on the result of this amendment. I suspect they are equally curious to hear your opinion. Please report back to me what they say, as you have been.''
+
+``Alright.''
+
+``Now, here are my thoughts on the matter,'' the councilor said. ``I think the amendment will be successful, and I have three reasons why. First of all, the DDR is far easier to send into a fit than you might be giving it credit for. We've watched it for decades now. It has a very short attention span, and dramatic reactions are part of that. Voters will work themselves up into a froth on whatever the current issue is, but there will always be another issue.
+
+``Second, there \emph{will} be another referendum introduced in December. It is already being drafted up in Cairo, and will involve some issue of mid-level consequence, but one that will be of interest to many of the regular DDR voices. You'll have to pardon me for not giving you more information until the referendum is made public, but I can tell you that it will involve both the subcommittees on environment and land management.''
+
+Yared blinked. Demma was right, of course, anything to deal with land rights, especially here in the Northeast African Coalition, was bound to draw many of the loudest DDR junkies, himself included.
+
+``Should I take part in that conversation, too?'' he asked.
+
+``You can if you'd like, so long as you don't drop your focus on the current referendum completely. I don't imagine you will, given that your name is on an amendment.''
+
+He nodded.
+
+``The third reason, however, is that there is more going on behind the scenes on the governmental level than you are privy to. It's often fashionable to ascribe ill intentions to politicians, but that is because they have often borne out when scandals come to light.
+
+``There is nothing scandal-worthy here, but there are still strings to be pulled. The correct hands shaken, the correct babies kissed, the correct promises of support on the correct issues. Some of those strings are the ones that everyone can see: the campaign contributions, the baby-kissing, the promises. Some of them are not, though. Thinly veiled threats, intimidation. Who knows, perhaps even some market meddling.''
+
+Yared's baseline frown deepened, to which Demma laughed.
+
+``Politics is politics, my dear Yared. It is a game, as I'm sure you've guessed from your interactions with Jonas, just one with high stakes. When there are high stakes, one must use all the tools at one's disposal, savory or otherwise.''
+
+``I understand,'' he said, still feeling that tension in his shoulders.
+
+Still smiling, Demma soothed, ``You have made your own harsh comments, I know. You have questioned your opponent's competency. You have suggested that perhaps others band up against them and nudge them out of the debate. You have the very same toolkit, if only on a smaller scale.''
+
+He finally let his shoulders sag.
+
+``So,'' the councilor said, ticking off on his fingers. ``The DDR is easily distracted, an additional distraction will be provided, and politics will be done where required. I promise that you'll quickly see a swing in favor of the amendment. I've promised such in the past, and surely delivered.'' His voice held a tone of conclusion, as though the conversation was nearing a decisive end.
+
+Yared nodded. ``Alright, councilor. I understand. I'm still having a hard time internalizing it, but I'll work on that. Should I expect further instructions?''
+
+``You'll get them, yes, but for now, please enjoy a few days off from the issue. You've done your work for now, let it simmer, and then you can come back to it. I know it'll be hard to do, but I trust you'll find a way. Enjoy good food. Drink good coffee. Talk with good friends.'' That avuncular smile returned. ``You deserve it, Mr.~Zerezghi. And, as always, thank you for all of your hard work.''
+
+And with that, the driver pulled the door open, and it was back out into the heat of the day for him. The heat of the day, the real world, and hopefully a bit of space from the stress. Hopefully. Hopefully he'd be able to let it go for a few days.
+
+He didn't believe it for a second.

toledot/content/secession/phys/Yared/008.tex

@@ -0,0 +1,216 @@
+\hypertarget{yared-zerezghi-2124}{%
+\chapter{Yared Zerezghi — 2124}\label{yared-zerezghi-2124}}
+
+Yared was not sure how he felt that the politicians---true politicians, at least---had been right. Demma had said so, Jonas and True Name had said so, and yet something about the whole process felt slippery to him. It was a feeling beyond even that, for while that implied that it was simply politics as usual, this was something more visceral. It was slimy, like the algae that had clung to his skin after he'd gone swimming in a small pond during a visit west: something that made him, specifically, feel disgusting.
+
+Because they \emph{had} been right, hadn't they? They'd been right that there were strings to be pulled. They'd been right that politics was a game that was played by the bigger players, that the bigger players used the smaller ones as pawns, that the goal was some non-zero-sum game of pushing the populace around like a fungible good.
+
+He had been the tool, and his belief had been his utility. He was the knight moving three spaces up, one space over to outwit some other politician's bishop.
+
+They'd been right, both Demma and the sys-side pair, because support for secession had swung his way with surprising rapidity, and there had suddenly been other strident voices that had once been on the other side of the equation agreeing with him, arguing alongside him for the right of the System to become a political entity of its own.
+
+There had been a logical procession to their thought process within their posts. It wasn't some sudden coin-flip, but over the course of the week, debates on the DDR-adjacent channels, where it didn't cost credits to post, suddenly swelled, and he'd seen the light dawning in their eyes, such as they were, as they realized that the System's political landscape fundamentally differed from that phys-side---that it couldn't but differ---given the root functionality of the populace, of the reality that sims were the only way to live. It was a true anarchy. There was no ruling class because of what utility would there be for a ruling class when one could just split off and create one's own sim or set of sims, such that any attempt to rule from some central sim could simply be ignored as though it had never happened?
+
+True Name and Jonas, now openly named, had been integral in helping convince him originally, and their words had played an enormous role through him to convince others. ``There are sims in which a strict monarchy rules,'' True Name had said. ``There are places governed by a theocracy. The Catholic church remains, albeit in reduced form without a bishopric, relying solely on adherents phys-side uploading all papal pronouncements, a near exact copy of the Vatican, where the phys-side pope and cardinals are represented by scrolling fields of text. Yet what influence could they hold on any other sim? What possible sway could they hold over anyone who did not subscribe anyway?''
+
+And so he dutifully passed these on under the tutelage of Jonas and True Name and Demma, and they, too, influenced the voices on the DDR.
+
+But for the voices to swing so quickly bespoke influence beyond just him. It showed that he was not the only pawn, that many of these other strident voices that quickly changed their voices were under the control of the big players phys-side, and perhaps sys-side as well; after all, why wouldn't True Name and Jonas be talking to other DDR junkies like himself?
+
+He was too afraid of them now to ask.
+
+All he could do was sit by and watch, and pray that the secession amendment wasn't altered to include some equally slimy additions that would limit the total freedom granted by the secession.
+
+Even there, he was lucky. The clauses about declaring war had been strengthened, the clauses about asylum seekers hardened with wording surrounding the impossibility of extradition and the acknowledgement that any such seeker would no longer have a tangible effect phys-side. In fact, the only provision that had felt sour was one to cut off communication with the System from suspected terrorist cells, but it had done little to dampen the feeling of success from the overall amendment, the overall referendum.
+
+The only issue, in fact, was a personal one. All of these changes of the amendment had been made under his name. Others had convinced him to add them. Even when the sour change had been proposed, Demma had strongly suggested that it be included.
+
+The end result was that his name was inextricably linked with the amendment. He was the sole author, meaning that those who hated it---indeed, those who hated the entire referendum---began to hate him, too. They hated Yared Zerezghi specifically.
+
+And they hated with a passion.
+
+His name had become a curse in their circles. He wasn't just the man who had introduced the amendment, he was the man who poisoned any hope of control over the System, that very System that they had declared a danger or a source of labor or a host to terrorism. He, Yared Zerezghi, was personally responsible for all that was wrong with the System.
+
+When he mentioned how much he felt like a scapegoat to Demma and the pair sys-side, both had reassured him that that fervor would soon die down, and both had assured him that, as their names were also inextricably linked with the bill, they were feeling some of the same heat.
+
+He wasn't sure that he believed them, though. Politics phys-side at the governmental level did not have the same tang of personal hatred. At best, Councilor Demma might have some sort of parasocial relationship with his supporters and detractors, but at that point, he was still just a figurehead, an abstract concept of a person, and that concept was a stand-in for a power so far beyond the quotidian masses that it hardly mattered. At best, True Name and Jonas were as intricately linked to the very same anarchy that ruled the rest of the System. Their role---indeed the role of the entire Council of Eight---was one of guiding the System in the form of its core functionality, interfacing with phys-side on behalf of those sys-side, rather than interfacing solely with those sys-side.
+
+And so Yared kept taking his walks, kept eating spicy food and getting drunk on tej, anything to shed what he could of that slippery, slimy feeling that still clung to him whenever he thought too hard about his position in all of this.
+
+He had become a hero and a villain both for this, though, and there was no shaking that off.
+
+\begin{quote}
+\textbf{The Only Time I Know My True Name Is When I Dream:} What can we do to soothe your worries, Yared, except tell you that your vision is becoming reality?
+
+\textbf{Yared Zerezghi:} I don't know, really. Probably nothing. There's nothing really to be done when no one else will put their name on the amendment. I feel like it might be an intentional move by Demma and others to ensure that there is someone they can put the blame on who has an actual human face.
+
+\textbf{Ar Jonas:} That may well be true, actually. If I were still working phys-side and needed to influence a referendum from the DDR, I'd probably do the same.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Is there anything I can do about it?
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} Nope! You're stuck with it, my friend, and for that I'm sorry. The best you can hope is that everyone will forget about you, and the best you can do to ensure that is to become a loud voice on other issues, hopefully ones that a lot of people agree with, so that you simply become ``the loud voice'' instead of ``the secession guy''. This is turning into the largest issue the DDR has ever voted on, though, so it's going to take a lot of that hollering to drown your voice out.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} And even then, because your name is on it, that is likely what you will go down in the history books for.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Uuugh. I've been thinking about that, too. It makes the concept of dying terrifying. As long as I'm alive, I at least have some hope of trying to become a less divisive figure.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} You could upload. There is no death here, after all.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} I'm seriously considering it, after this. At least that way, they'll know that I really meant what I said, and then I'll become someone they don't have to worry about.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} And you can help us keep fighting the good fight by whispering in everyone's ears.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} That's \emph{precisely} why I want out, Jonas, and you know it. If feeling like some sneaky little political figure is what's making me feel bad, why on Earth would I keep doing that?
+
+\textbf{True Name:} Jonas is an asshole, do not listen to him.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} I am, yeah, and I'll have you know that True Name just punched me in the shoulder, if that's any consolation.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Do it again, and maybe I'll feel better.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} Confirmed, she did it again.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Ahhh, such relief!
+
+\textbf{True Name:} In all seriousness, Yared, do think more about uploading. We would welcome you here, and I am sure that, should anyone step down from the council (the Russians might when there is no need for their representation), you would be welcome to take their place. That would not be slimy politicking, just helping the System out.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} You two are on the Council, how would that not mean slimy politicking?
+
+\textbf{True Name:} I will let the insinuation that I am in any way a politician slide this time, but you are on thin fucking ice, buddy.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} True Name's an asshole, don't listen to her.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} Third punch to the shoulder confirmed.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} But really, no need to worry. This is 1000\% the slimiest politicking that the Council has ever done. Hell, most of the rest of the council doesn't know or care how True Name and I have been handling this. Most of the rest has been, like\ldots{}``how do we keep forking from getting out of hand?'' or ``let's set systime to start when the reputation market begins'' or ``what if we could create telepathy''. It's bullshit
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} Fun bullshit, but it's bullshit. You'd like it. It's more like volunteering to be a crossing guard than anything.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} I might, at that, yeah. I'll think about it.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} Please do, we would welcome you.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} Lighter topic: what most excites you about the prospect of uploading? Beyond getting away from ignominy and beholding True Name's indescribably beautiful countenance, I mean.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Isn't she a skunk-person?
+
+\textbf{True Name:} An indescribably beautiful skunk-person, thank you very much.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Uh, I don't know. Honestly probably meeting you two in person is the biggest draw. You seem really fun to be around.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Hopefully this isn't insensitive, but are you two a couple?
+
+\textbf{True Name:} God no.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} Jonas may be pretty, but he drives me up the wall. I would murder him in his sleep two nights in.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} If I didn't get to you, first. We're good friends, but not on that level.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Okay. Thanks for clearing that up. Was just wondering.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Wait, \emph{can} you murder other people?
+
+\textbf{True Name:} Yes. Some enterprising individual found a way to disrupt the concept of self so quickly and so thoroughly that one basically disintegrates and, just like an avatar crash on the 'net, all you are left with is a core dump, and no one has figured out how to deal with those in a place that is a consensual dream.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Seriously???
+
+\textbf{Yared:} What the fuck.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} How often does that happen?
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Fucking terrifying.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} Oh, not often at all! Three times that we know of. It is pretty hard to actually make the virus, as it does require tailoring to the specific individual, though it is equally doubtless that same enterprising individual is working on a way to make it universal. If, that is, they have not already been murdered, themselves.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} And before you ask, no, there's no way to prosecute them, even if we found them. They could just fork and keep on living somewhere else, changing themselves to look like someone else.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Ugh.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} I'll just have to trust you, I guess.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} Do you not?
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Slimy politician, remember?
+
+\textbf{True Name:} There is a punch on the shoulder waiting for you as soon as you upload, my friend.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} Tiny little skunk fists. Don't worry, they don't hurt.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} OW
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} Unless she punches you in the kidney.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Hahaha. I stand by my assessment that you two sound fun to hang out with.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Skunk, though. You can change how you look that drastically up there?
+
+\textbf{True Name:} In theory. I know of few who have actually managed to do so, though that is rapidly changing with forking.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} I am a special case due to some psychological/neurological damage from getting lost. Those up here who are furries and look it are those who so strongly identified with their furry selves on the 'net that they began to think of their human selves as as the avatars and their furry selves as the real versions.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} The reason I got around it is that Michelle's neurological issues meant that she oscillated between her human self and furry self. That also meant that I (and each of her forks) lack the effects of that damage.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} Or most of it, at least. You have mentioned the speech patterns before.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Well, I'm happy for you, even if that makes me sad for Michelle.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} She is spending her retirement relaxing, so there is little need to feel sorry.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} Is there anything else you're looking forward to, Yared?
+
+\textbf{Yared:} I suppose just getting away from the DDR. I don't think I could manage to just drop it out here, as there's not really anything else I'm interested in enough to replace it.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Up there, though, I'd be forced to do something else, and that'd really keep me from getting so anxious about everything.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} Makes sense. What sorts of things do you think you'd go for?
+
+\textbf{Yared:} I like food, I guess. I like walking. When I'm not really around here, I'm sleeping, eating, or walking. I've never had the chance to really go for a hike anywhere that isn't still in Ethiopia, but I imagine there's places like the Alps or Himalayas that are delightfully cool.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} There are, yes. Plenty.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} A lot of the earliest sims were based around nature. It's as if people immediately wanted to reach for places that they loved phys-side.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} Or to counteract the thought that they now live in a computer.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} True Name, naturally, takes the pessimistic approach.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} To turn it around, what do you both like best up there?
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} Oh shit. You can't do this to me. I'm not ready!
+
+\textbf{True Name:} He loves that he can still be a slimy politician without any of the actual hard work.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} The problem is, you're not wrong. I loved what I did phys-side, and I have to admit that I still love it here.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} I also really like coffee. Coffee and food. I get to have all of those that I want without worrying.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} Oh! And alcohol. No liver disease, and also you can choose when to sober up.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Oh damn, that's awesome. I like wine well enough, but being drunk is mostly escapism. If I could find that fun balance with friends, that'd be nice.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} You can't phys-side?
+
+\textbf{Yared:} If I had any local friends, maybe.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} Ouch. Well, you have friends up here, and we would gladly take you to bars good and bad.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} As for me, I love all of the variety in sims and people. When I am not working or sleeping, I will walk the public sims, jumping from one to another when I have had my fill of them.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} That sounds nice. I've only traveled a few times. In Ethiopia, there's different climates and such, but only so much.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} I will take you walking with me, then.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} And I'll be a slimy politician with you!
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Ugh, you're the worst.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} Anyway, thanks for letting me vent and lifting my spirits.
+
+\textbf{Yared:} I needed it.
+
+\textbf{Jonas:} Of course, Yared.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} And please remember, uploading is always an option. We would welcome you with open arms.
+
+\textbf{True Name:} I know that you will come join us, anyway, sooner or later.
+\end{quote}

toledot/content/secession/phys/Yared/010.tex

@@ -0,0 +1,112 @@
+\hypertarget{yared-zerezghi-2125}{%
+\chapter{Yared Zerezghi — 2125}\label{yared-zerezghi-2125}}
+
+If the new year were to be a thing for Yared to celebrate, that was lost on him. He had lost track of how old he was over the last year, and the passage of time had begun to smear into a haze of referenda, of voting and posting and debating. He knew the years by the seasons and the fact that all of his posts on the DDR had a date attached to them, but beyond that, the significance of December thirty-first ticking over into January first held little sway over him.
+
+If the passage of referendum 10b30188 was to be something to celebrate, that was also lost on him. The process of promoting and supporting the bill had long since taken over his life, and he had little enough energy left to acknowledge that it had even passed by a supermajority of votes.
+
+He should be celebrating both of these, he knew.
+
+He should be celebrating them because the rattle, pop, and boom of fireworks outside told him to celebrate the new year. He should be celebrating them because he was inundated not only with congratulatory messages telling him to do so for his pet issue passing, for his first major amendment passing, but for vile threats of harm, of finding him, of killing him, or for the media requests piling up in his inbox, and in the end, was that not a sign of success for a politician?
+
+He knew that he should be celebrating, most of all, because True Name and Jonas had each sent him dozens of messages telling him how the news had been received sys-side, describing the cheers of the Council of Eight, gushing about the unanimously positive moods of those who had been tracking the progression of the bill.
+
+And yet here he was, once more walking from his apartment to the patch of scrub grass and trees at the edge of his neighborhood, wishing he'd left his phone at home.
+
+The trees, at least, had nothing to say. They cared not about the new year except perhaps for the risk provided by the fireworks. They most certainly cared not for the secession of the System. All they cared about was their patch of dirt and the sun above and whether or not they got enough water. Yared wound his way around each of them in turn, sometimes sitting at the base of one or running a hand along the rough, papery bark of another, doing his best to absorb some of that apathy himself.
+
+No one, in the end, had been able to convince him that having his name inextricably linked to the secession amendment would be anything but trouble, moving forward. He had tried to pick up a new pet referendum to follow after the interest had swung hard in favor of secession, something about limiting the environmental impact of dune stabilization in the Sahara, but the first response to his post in the DDR forums was met with a derisive ``Of course the bleeding heart who either loves the System so much he bet his life guaranteeing their independence or hated it so much as to make it irrelevant to the rest of the world would be concerned about an issue he has absolutely no stake in. Either way, upload and find out, Yared, and the rest of us can move on.''
+
+That had stung so much that he'd not looked at the DDR forums or touched the debate sims since except to ensure that the referendum had passed. He was tempted to delete his account, after that, though he knew that that would be a mistake, inviting either further scorn from his detractors or disappointment from his supporters.
+
+He jumped from where he'd hunched down at the base of a tree, poking around the roots with a stick. His implants buzzed again and he pulled out his phone to check on who it was, groaning at the sight of Demma's name.
+
+``Mr.~Zerezghi,'' the voice on the other end said, sounding cheerful. ``Happy New Year. I was wondering if you would be so kind as to join us for the tail end of our celebrations?''
+
+``Join..?''
+
+``Of course, Yared. Are you at your park? We can meet you there and pick you up. The dress is semiformal. We can provide you with that, if you need.''
+
+``Celebration?'' he said, numb.
+
+Demma laughed. ``Of course, Yared. We'll meet you momentarily, and you'll see.''
+
+The car was once more ready and waiting for him at the edge of his mini-forest, still humming slightly from the radiator fan and air conditioner. The driver was once more standing outside, though this time he had a long thawb draped over one arm, gold brocade peeking out through folds in the cream-colored fabric.
+
+``This should fit over your current clothes, Mr. Zerezghi. Might as well put it on out here where you can move a bit more easily.''
+
+It had been a long time since Yared had worn a thawb, and it took a moment to navigate so much fabric, but soon, he had it up over his head and spilling down over his body, the linen tumbling down nearly to his ankles. It really was quite nice, too. The linen was pre-worn and soft, and the gold brocade ran in two thick stripes from shoulder to hem down his front. It felt somewhat bunched up with his shirt beneath it, but wasn't uncomfortable.
+
+The driver nodded appreciatively, saying, ``It looks good on you. Your shirt underneath may ride up, but feel free to slip off to a restroom when we arrive and you'll be able to take it off and check it at the coatroom.''
+
+Yared nodded, smiled as best he could, and bowed to the driver. It was the first time he'd seen the man's eyes, and he was pleased to note that they looked as though they were always a second away from crinkling in a smile.
+
+In the back of the car, Demma greeted him with a warm smile of his own, while a rather severe looking woman leaned forward to shake his hand.
+
+``Yared, I'd like to introduce you to Councilor Aida Tamrat,'' Demma said, gesturing. ``Aida, this is Yared Zerezghi, the author of the secession amendment.''
+
+``A pleasure, of course,'' she said. ``Thank you for all of your hard work.''
+
+Overwhelmed, he simply bowed as best he could from his cushy seat in the back of the car.
+
+From there, he said little, having little enough chance to speak. Demma and Tamrat continued their conversation from before, which seemed, on the surface, to be about the party they'd just come from---who was with whom, who wore what, what drinks had been most common---yet seemed to carry serious undertones of deep study, as though all of this information taken as a whole showed some gestalt of the political momenta this way and that. The driver, of course, remained silent, so all Yared could do was sit, smile, and nod when addressed.
+
+The short ride down familiar streets took them back to Government House, but this time, rather than simply sitting outside of the building, the car was waved through a gate and directed down a ramp to a parking garage underneath. From there, they were subjected to a security scan---pat-down and implant scan both---and whisked up a flight of stairs, through long halls, and eventually deposited in a chamber crowded with more nicely dressed persons drinking champagne from thin flutes.
+
+\emph{Very} nicely dressed, he quickly realized, and he wondered if not dressing him up more had been an attempt to make him wear his status as a lesser-than plainly.
+
+Later that night, nearing two in the morning, he realized that he could remember little of the party. He was handed a champagne flute and passed around the room as though an interesting object. Councilors and dignitaries of various levels shook his hand, smiled to him with unsmiling eyes, and once again congratulated him on a job well done.
+
+``These are the interested parties I've mentioned,'' Demma said at one point. ``They're all pleased to meet you in person.''
+
+If that was the case, then that pleasure had been slight indeed.
+
+Perhaps the party slipped so easily from his mind due to the sheer mundanity of it, but more likely, it was the following conversation that overshadowed it in importance.
+
+In the car, as he was being returned to his house, Demma broke the tired silence with, ``Yared, thank you again for your assistance in this project. I have a few requests to make of you before we part ways.''
+
+Yared nodded hesitantly. ``Of course, councilor.''
+
+``First of all, I hope you understand that your continued discretion is of the utmost importance. It is key to our trust and to your own safety and security.'' There was a meaningful pause before Demma smiled. ``From potential bad actors, of course.''
+
+``Yes, of course,'' he said, starting to rub his palms against his knees before he remembered that he was still wearing the long garment he had been loaned.
+
+``Thank you. Secondly, please do not contact me or any of the interested parties you met at tonight's soiree. This, I think, shall be easy, as many of them are quite difficult to reach, and the contact information we provided you with to stay in touch is now no longer active.''
+
+He nodded again, silent.
+
+``Third, keep in mind that, as you are now a person of interest to the government, all of your actions will be monitored simply as a matter of course. Please also note that your interactions on the direct democracy representative forums will be monitored closest of all, and should they deviate from NEAC majority party or coalition stance, you may be subject to reprisal.''
+
+Yared's breathing grew shallow. This was unheard of. As far as he could remember, a government had never required a single individual to tow the party line. But then, perhaps it was unheard of due to the implicit threat of violence that Demma had dropped early on, unheard of because it had never reached the light of day. He nodded slowly.
+
+``Excellent. Those are the three requests. In order to formalize this agreement, I'd like you to place your thumb here--'' the councilor had pulled out his phone where a rectangle outlined where his thumbprint should wind up. ``--and state aloud that you agree.''
+
+He hesitated long enough that Demma began to frown, but before any further encouragement was given, he did as he was told, pressing his thumb to the reader and saying, ``I agree.''
+
+``Thank you, Mr. Zerezghi.'' He sighed and slumped back into his seat. ``My apologies for the rather formal interaction, but it was necessary to get this out of the way.''
+
+Yared did not relax into his seat. He was as keyed up as he'd been before the night had begun, but now for entirely different reasons.
+
+After a long silence, he spoke up. ``Congratulations, councilor.''
+
+``Mm?'' Demma sat up, then, comprehending, waved a hand dismissively. ``Thank you. The bill passed as expected, and now we won't have to worry about it.''
+
+Yared frowned. ``Do you think there will be any further legislation around the System?''
+
+``The System?'' The councilor gave a short, sharp bark of a laugh. ``It's out of our way, as I say. Rubbish idea from the start, of course, but meddlesome minds will always meddle, so it's all we can do to keep them as far away from us as possible.''
+
+``I\ldots don't understand. What do you mean?''
+
+Demma grinned. ``There's no need for you to, but I'll do my best to explain if it will keep you placated. The System is a nuisance and a political thorn in everyone's side. It needed removal---as any thorn does---before the infection spread. Anyone who held onto their citizenship while making a one-way journey to a nowhere we aren't even sure is real could still have had influence back in their so-called home countries. Look at Jonas, if you need a prime example. Now they can't. That's that. It's a dumping ground for dreamers, and the less of those we have here, the easier our jobs get.''
+
+``But I thought,'' Yared said, voice raw. ``I thought you wanted to help them secede.''
+
+Demma only shrugged. ``I did. Just maybe not for the same reasons as you.''
+
+``I'm sorry, councilor. I had been under the impression--''
+
+``You, too, are a dreamer, Yared. One who is easy enough to control, but a dreamer nonetheless.'' Demma said, his smile kind and completely, totally discomfiting for it. ``If you wish to continue dreaming, then, well, I suppose I have already made my point about the System, yes?''
+
+The rest of the car ride proceeded in silence. The only other words that were spoken to him were by the driver as he helped Yared out of the loaned thawb.
+
+``Mr. Zerezghi, it was a pleasure sharing coffee with you,'' he said, and then they were gone, black car disappearing into gold-lit night.

toledot/content/secession/sys/Michelle/001-illust.tex

@@ -0,0 +1,103 @@
+\hypertarget{michelle-hadjesasha-2306}{%
+\chapter{Michelle Hadje/Sasha — 2306}\label{michelle-hadjesasha-2306}}
+
+\begin{quote}
+Come to me.
+
+Come alone.
+\end{quote}
+
+That was all that the message had said.
+
+Michelle had long considered this moment, and just as long considered what she might say. She was of two minds. She was of two minds.
+
+The part of her that desired knowledge, that craved a reason in all things, that part of her felt compelled to give an explanation. It felt the need to rationalize and understand and comprehend, and it craved the knowledge that others also understood.
+
+That part was Sasha.
+
+That had felt inverted to her, at first. Was not Michelle the rational one? She was the one who had maintained her ties to her body. She was the one who remembered all of the \emph{things}, all of the \emph{actions} of her past. She was the one who wanted to fork and keep all of those memories.
+
+But instead it was Sasha who felt incomplete, unwhole, when her reasons were unspoken. Eventually her gestalt came to the awareness that this was because Sasha was the one who felt, just as Michelle was the one who remembered, and thus she was also the part that desired compassion above all things. She wanted to explain herself so that others would not be left hurt. She was the one who decided, in the end, not to fork, to fix, to repair. Those memories that mattered---really, truly mattered---all of her instances already shared.
+
+Michelle did not want to tell anyone.
+
+She was of two minds/she was of two minds.
+
+So she edited and rewrote and pared her message down. Thousands of words. Hundreds of words. Ninety-nine words. Ten words. Two commands. A duality like her.
+
+\begin{quote}
+Come to me.
+\end{quote}
+
+There had been a date, a time, an address. \emph{Come to me,} she thought/she thought. \emph{Come to us.}
+
+Come hear. Come learn. Come understand. Or don't, but come all the same, that we might hear, learn, understand.
+
+She was of two minds/she was of two minds.
+
+\begin{quote}
+Come alone.
+\end{quote}
+
+\AddToHookNext{shipout/after}{\includepdf[pages={1},fitpaper=true,noautoscale=true]{assets/kris--two-minds--michelle-sasha--G}}
+She had met their friends and lovers and hidden, forbidden selves. She had met their scribes and their amanuenses and their biographer-historians.
+
+\emph{Come alone,} she thought/she thought. \emph{I only want you. I only want us. I only want me.}
+
+And she knew they would. She knew they would. She knew they would come and they would do so without hesitation, for a request from the root instance was a thing that had never happened before, and it bore more weight than any possible life event or schedule could ever hope to. She knew they would come because she would be there/she would be there.
+
+She was of two minds.
+
+And so on the allotted day and at the allotted time and in the allotted place, they came. They appeared one by one in that field of grass, that field of dandelions. They came and they stood and they waited. Some of them chatted amiably. Some of them were crying, and she knew which was which because she also felt amiable/she also was crying.
+
+They came to her/they came to her.
+
+They came alone.
+
+One hundred and one of her stood in that meadow. Qoheleth was gone, but there were two of her/there were two of her, and the number was still as it should be.
+
+No, not as it should be. Not as it ought to be. There ought to be only one hundred of her there without Qoheleth, but she was of two minds/she was of two minds.
+
+She smiled to them/she smiled to them, and that was enough to bring them to silence. Those who had felt their amicability frowned now, picking up on the sudden anxiety of the meadow, of that green grass yellowed by dandelions.
+
+``I am of two minds,'' she said/she said. Waves of Sasha/waves of Michelle rippled across her form, two identities washed through her mind, and she quelled the urge to vomit. ``We are of two minds. We do not want to do this, and there is nothing more in life that we desire than to do this. There is too much in me. There is too much \emph{of} me.''
+
+There were more crying eyes in the crowd now, and she was crying/she was crying.
+
+Her voice wavered, but she asked all the same. ``Please fork. Please fork and merge down-tree.''
+
+In less than five seconds, the number of copies of her had doubled, and some inner part of her/some inner part of her smiled, sensing now that doubling that she felt as a core part of her being expressed in all those versions of herself that had grown these last nearly two centuries.
+
+``Since then---'tis Centuries---and yet Feels shorter than the Day---'' she thought/she murmured, words borne of a thought/of a memory. A few of the clade who could hear her weak voice joined. ``I first surmised the Horses' Heads Were toward Eternity —''
+
+Many were sitting now, some were pulling at tufts of grass, stalks of dandelions, anything to ground themselves.
+
+``I just want\ldots we just want to experience\ldots a little more,'' she choked out. ``Can you give us that?''
+
+The reasons for the forks became clear, now, and over the next hour---for some had diverged so far that a great amount of effort was required to reclaim memories---they began to merge their outermost instances down-tree, down-tree, down toward the root. Many looked shell-shocked as years and decades and centuries of memories poured into them, and then were passed on down. Many looked as mad as she felt.
+
+She held up her hand when the mergers had completed down to the doubled-versions of the nine first lines and one second line (for Qoheleth had been a first, Michelle remembered/Sasha remembered) standing before her.
+
+``We have a task for each of you who will remain. One last task.'' And she walked down the line/she walked down the line, leaning close to whisper into each of their ears, whether they were skunk or human or something new and different, what she wanted them to accomplish, whether it be vague or specific.
+
+``Now,'' she said.
+
+Of the twenty before her, ten merged into her, one by one.
+
+``Oh,'' she said/she said. ``Oh.''
+
+She was laughing/she was crying/she was furious/she was in love/she was knowledgeable/she was a being of emotions/she was an ascetic/she was opulent.
+
+She was.
+
+She was of two minds.
+
+She was of ten minds.
+
+She was of ninety-nine minds.
+
+She was of a thousand times a thousand minds as more memories than any one individual was ever meant to have poured into her and through her and consumed her. She cherished them one by one by one by one by one\ldots{}
+
+``Oh,'' she said, feeling more singular than she had in two hundred years.
+
+And then she quit.

toledot/content/secession/sys/Michelle/001.tex

@@ -0,0 +1,102 @@
+\hypertarget{michelle-hadjesasha-2306}{%
+\chapter{Michelle Hadje/Sasha — 2306}\label{michelle-hadjesasha-2306}}
+
+\begin{quote}
+Come to me.
+
+Come alone.
+\end{quote}
+
+That was all that the message had said.
+
+Michelle had long considered this moment, and just as long considered what she might say. She was of two minds. She was of two minds.
+
+The part of her that desired knowledge, that craved a reason in all things, that part of her felt compelled to give an explanation. It felt the need to rationalize and understand and comprehend, and it craved the knowledge that others also understood.
+
+That part was Sasha.
+
+That had felt inverted to her, at first. Was not Michelle the rational one? She was the one who had maintained her ties to her body. She was the one who remembered all of the \emph{things}, all of the \emph{actions} of her past. She was the one who wanted to fork and keep all of those memories.
+
+But instead it was Sasha who felt incomplete, unwhole, when her reasons were unspoken. Eventually her gestalt came to the awareness that this was because Sasha was the one who felt, just as Michelle was the one who remembered, and thus she was also the part that desired compassion above all things. She wanted to explain herself so that others would not be left hurt. She was the one who decided, in the end, not to fork, to fix, to repair. Those memories that mattered---really, truly mattered---all of her instances already shared.
+
+Michelle did not want to tell anyone.
+
+She was of two minds/she was of two minds.
+
+So she edited and rewrote and pared her message down. Thousands of words. Hundreds of words. Ninety-nine words. Ten words. Two commands. A duality like her.
+
+\begin{quote}
+Come to me.
+\end{quote}
+
+There had been a date, a time, an address. \emph{Come to me,} she thought/she thought. \emph{Come to us.}
+
+Come hear. Come learn. Come understand. Or don't, but come all the same, that we might hear, learn, understand.
+
+She was of two minds/she was of two minds.
+
+\begin{quote}
+Come alone.
+\end{quote}
+
+She had met their friends and lovers and hidden, forbidden selves. She had met their scribes and their amanuenses and their biographer-historians.
+
+\emph{Come alone,} she thought/she thought. \emph{I only want you. I only want us. I only want me.}
+
+And she knew they would. She knew they would. She knew they would come and they would do so without hesitation, for a request from the root instance was a thing that had never happened before, and it bore more weight than any possible life event or schedule could ever hope to. She knew they would come because she would be there/she would be there.
+
+She was of two minds.
+
+And so on the allotted day and at the allotted time and in the allotted place, they came. They appeared one by one in that field of grass, that field of dandelions. They came and they stood and they waited. Some of them chatted amiably. Some of them were crying, and she knew which was which because she also felt amiable/she also was crying.
+
+They came to her/they came to her.
+
+They came alone.
+
+One hundred and one of her stood in that meadow. Qoheleth was gone, but there were two of her/there were two of her, and the number was still as it should be.
+
+No, not as it should be. Not as it ought to be. There ought to be only one hundred of her there without Qoheleth, but she was of two minds/she was of two minds.
+
+She smiled to them/she smiled to them, and that was enough to bring them to silence. Those who had felt their amicability frowned now, picking up on the sudden anxiety of the meadow, of that green grass yellowed by dandelions.
+
+``I am of two minds,'' she said/she said. Waves of Sasha/waves of Michelle rippled across her form, two identities washed through her mind, and she quelled the urge to vomit. ``We are of two minds. We do not want to do this, and there is nothing more in life that we desire than to do this. There is too much in me. There is too much \emph{of} me.''
+
+There were more crying eyes in the crowd now, and she was crying/she was crying.
+
+Her voice wavered, but she asked all the same. ``Please fork. Please fork and merge down-tree.''
+
+In less than five seconds, the number of copies of her had doubled, and some inner part of her/some inner part of her smiled, sensing now that doubling that she felt as a core part of her being expressed in all those versions of herself that had grown these last nearly two centuries.
+
+``Since then---'tis Centuries---and yet Feels shorter than the Day---'' she thought/she murmured, words borne of a thought/of a memory. A few of the clade who could hear her weak voice joined. ``I first surmised the Horses' Heads Were toward Eternity —''
+
+Many were sitting now, some were pulling at tufts of grass, stalks of dandelions, anything to ground themselves.
+
+``I just want\ldots we just want to experience\ldots a little more,'' she choked out. ``Can you give us that?''
+
+The reasons for the forks became clear, now, and over the next hour---for some had diverged so far that a great amount of effort was required to reclaim memories---they began to merge their outermost instances down-tree, down-tree, down toward the root. Many looked shell-shocked as years and decades and centuries of memories poured into them, and then were passed on down. Many looked as mad as she felt.
+
+She held up her hand when the mergers had completed down to the doubled-versions of the nine first lines and one second line (for Qoheleth had been a first, Michelle remembered/Sasha remembered) standing before her.
+
+``We have a task for each of you who will remain. One last task.'' And she walked down the line/she walked down the line, leaning close to whisper into each of their ears, whether they were skunk or human or something new and different, what she wanted them to accomplish, whether it be vague or specific.
+
+``Now,'' she said.
+
+Of the twenty before her, ten merged into her, one by one.
+
+``Oh,'' she said/she said. ``Oh.''
+
+She was laughing/she was crying/she was furious/she was in love/she was knowledgeable/she was a being of emotions/she was an ascetic/she was opulent.
+
+She was.
+
+She was of two minds.
+
+She was of ten minds.
+
+She was of ninety-nine minds.
+
+She was of a thousand times a thousand minds as more memories than any one individual was ever meant to have poured into her and through her and consumed her. She cherished them one by one by one by one by one\ldots{}
+
+``Oh,'' she said, feeling more singular than she had in two hundred years.
+
+And then she quit.

toledot/content/secession/sys/Michelle/002.tex

@@ -0,0 +1,208 @@
+\hypertarget{michelle-hadjesasha-2124}{%
+\chapter{Michelle Hadje — 2124}\label{michelle-hadjesasha-2124}}
+
+Michelle Hadje mastered the urge to vomit.
+
+She knew that she could change this. Change all of these things from so many dreams that pressed in against her. She knew that she could will them away, or perhaps spring for a fork that would simply\ldots not have them. She had enough reputation by now to fork a dozen times over. Some perks came with being on the council, after all.
+
+But she hadn't, and she was not quite sure why.
+
+At one point, she had entertained the idea that it was out of a need to keep some part of herself tied to the her of eight years ago, the panicked and wild-eyed woman who had scrimped and saved all that she could to get a one-way ticket into the System. Perhaps she needed to keep some tenuous connection to the Michelle left so changed by getting lost that year on year become madness on madness.
+
+But that wasn't quite it. Perhaps, instead, she felt as though she wasn't worth it. She hadn't been able to save her friends, not in the end, and it was only by dint of luck that she managed to survive the years after that terrible day her mind was wrapped in on itself, squeezed, stretched, knotted, and all her thoughts and all her dreams were mirrored back upon her. Perhaps she \emph{deserved} these bouts of lingering disconnection, depression, dissociation, derealization, depersonalizeation.
+
+That wasn't it either, though. She may sometimes feel the weight of responsibility, but thoughts as gloomy as that came only when she was feeling particularly peaky.
+
+Lately, her best guess as to why she kept this madness draped around her was the slew of memories of RJ that hit her at unexpected intervals. She could feel em, sometimes, as a ghost, perhaps, or a wish, a dream, but then that feeling would disappear and she'd be left with despair and the urge to vomit and the flickering of herself.
+
+Michelle.
+
+Sasha.
+
+Michelle.
+
+Sasha.
+
+That last hypothesis encompassed much of the previous two, and would explain why the looming tenth anniversary of the founding of the System seemed to make it all the worse. Ten years since the founding, eleven years since RJ disappeared, giving emself up to the act of creation.
+
+Ah well. She had lingered long enough outside the coffee shop, so she swallowed down her rising gorge and mastered a few waves of shifting form, skunk fur and human flesh fighting for dominance. The human form won today: round of face rather than mephit snout; curly, black hair rather than thick black fur. It would do. She would be Michelle for the meeting.
+
+The Council of Eight, for all its high status and demand, met in incognito in unassuming, downtempo sims rather than some conference room or grand palace. The eight of them would trickle into the sim over the course of a few hours, set up camp on a hilltop or in a cafe, enjoy the ambiance, and then set up a cone of silence to discuss business. They had been noticed once or twice, but never hounded and certainly not attacked.
+
+Debarre and user11824 were there already, slouching before their coffees in comfortable silence. Both looked up and waved to her when she entered, so she requested a mocha and joined them around the table.
+
+``Hey Sa--er, Michelle. Hows tricks?'' Debarre asked.
+
+``Tricksy, as usual.'' She smiled wanly. ``How about you two?''
+
+user11824 shrugged. His features were nondescript to the point where Michelle doubted that he even needed to work at being incognito. Eyes simply slid over him without pausing. ``Bored. Boring. Bored.''
+
+``How are you bored? There's always too much to do.'' Laughter came from behind her, followed by a friendly touch to the shoulder. Jonas, on the other hand, was perilously handsome, well past the point of standing out, and friendly with a casual ease that left all feeling envious.
+
+``Yeah. Boring shit.''
+
+Jonas slid into the seat next to Michelle, coffee in hand. There were a few minutes amiable chatter as the other four octarchs trickled in: two well-dressed women, one well-dressed man, and one slouching form of indeterminate gender (and occasionally species) that looked more like a discarded pile of rags than anything.
+
+Michelle blinked, and a cone of silence spread around the table. The proprietor raised an eyebrow, but made no other move to acknowledge it.
+
+``So,'' she began, rubbing her hands over her face. ``I know we just had a meeting, so I am sorry for stealing you all again, but I have a thing to ask of you all. A question, for sure, but it may morph into a favor, depending on the answer.''
+
+``Boring one?'' user11824 asked.
+
+Michelle forced a tired chuckle and wobbled one of her hands over the table. ``Maybe. Probably. Most things are boring to you.''
+
+He rolled his eyes. More chuckles around the table.
+
+Swallowing down another wave of Sasha washing across her body, she continued. ``I would like to create ten forks to delegate responsibility. Would that be okay?''
+
+Jonas frowned. ``That'd be pretty expensive.''
+
+``Would it be worth the expenditure?'' the pile of rags rasped.
+
+Michelle quelled the instinct to shrug again, nodding instead. ``I think it would be. Just temporarily. At least for the next year or so. I will shift my role to a more managerial one, acting as consensus builder for my clade. I would not gain any more say in votes.''
+
+``Would you take on additional responsibility, too?''
+
+``I can. I am always happy to do my share of the work, and if that share increases ten-fold while I shift to a consensus point, I will be okay with that.''
+
+Debarre gave a lopsided smile. ``If it's simply about more hands on the ground, I see no problem with it. It's your reputation to spend, and\ldots{}'' He hesitated, smile fading to a more serious expression, continuing, ``And if it helps you out, then it's probably for the best. I'm sorry Michelle, but you look like hell.''
+
+She forced herself to keep tears out of her voice. ``I feel like hell, if I am honest. I will ensure none of the forks have\ldots all this.''
+
+Nods around the table. A woman from the well-dressed trio spoke up. ``I'm comfortable answering your question with a `yes'.''
+
+They went around the table, and none of the others challenged the first vote. Michelle slouched in relief, letting her control slacken and her form blur for a few moments.
+
+``Does that answer mean that you have a favor to ask?''
+
+She nodded to Debarre. ``A two-part favor. I would like some help delegating to my forks, if we even have ten things that need doing, and then I would like a week off.''
+
+Jonas laughed. ``You're allowed a vacation, Michelle. Go for it. I'm sure we can all find something for your new clade. The Hadje Clade?''
+
+``The Ode Clade.''
+
+Debarre stiffened in his seat, frowned. Michelle did her best to maintain her tired mien, keeping her gaze on Jonas.
+
+``No clue what that means, but hey, Michelle-slash-Sasha of the Ode Clade it is.''
+
+``Do we applaud? Is this exciting?'' user11824 asked. He looked honestly befuddled, and Michelle admitted that she could use a life so bound by boredom that excitement could go unnoticed.
+
+``It's exciting for me. I get to sleep in.''
+
+Laughter around the table.
+
+The pile of rags shifted, rasping its words. ``Are we comfortable with this as a general rule? Perhaps we would all benefit from a fork here and there to help us out.''
+
+``Can we come up with a mechanism for tracking hands on the ground, as you so eloquently put it?''
+
+Michelle nodded eagerly to the sharp dressed man. ``Please. It is not my intention to take more work just so we can do more things my way.''
+
+``And we'll have to be careful not to overextend our reach. There being only the eight of us kind of limits our capabilities by necessity.''
+
+``We can be open about it, set limits for ourselves. Maybe no more than ten per council member.''
+
+``It might be handy to fork further for personal reasons down the line,'' Michelle said, carefully avoiding Debarre's gaze. ``I can think of a hundred things I would like to do.''
+
+The weasel's frown deepened.
+
+``Sounds fair enough. I figure we've all got personal lives outside this,'' one of the women said.
+
+``Yeah, boring ones.''
+
+``You're such a drag. Take up fishing or something. Then you can be bored with purpose.''
+
+``I've got a stack and a half of trashy novels to plow through.''
+
+``There's some changes I've been meaning to make. Maybe I can even figure out how to make it like a real demolition process, too. Putting a sledgehammer through drywall? Exquisite. Simply exquisite.''
+
+The chatter continued around the table. Michelle focused on her mocha, studiously avoiding Debarre's searching gaze.
+
+The cone of silence was dropped, and council members left at their own pace until only Michelle, Jonas, and Debarre left.
+
+``So, what's the deal with the clade name? And why are you two being so weird around each other?'' Jonas asked.
+
+There was a moment's silence, then Debarre murmured, ``You tell him.''
+
+``A friend of mine---of ours---wrote this poem, an ode, and I was thinking that I would name the instances after lines from it. A hundred lines, ten stanzas. That gives me ten first lines to start with, and I can go from there.''
+
+Jonas shrugged. ``Well, fair enough, if strange. You didn't answer why you two got all weird, though.''
+
+``Complicated stuff. Both Michelle and--''
+
+``We were both among the lost,'' she interrupted, shooting Debarre a warning glance.
+
+Jonas held his hands up to forestall further conversation. ``This is between you two. You can share what you want when you've got it sorted out.''
+
+Debarre nodded sullenly. Michelle looked down at her hands.
+
+``While we're on complicated subjects, I have an admission to make.'' Jonas looked sheepish. ``I have a small clade of my own on the side. All for personal stuff, of course, nothing tied to the Council.''
+
+Debarre tilted his head, then laughed. It was an earnest laugh, full-throated, and Michelle realized that Jonas had said precisely the right thing to cut through the tension.
+
+``Do you have some equally stupid clade name?'' Michelle said, grinning.
+
+``Oh, just the Jonas Clade. I'm going to keep forking as long as I have reputation, I figure, so we've been naming ourselves with syllables. There's plenty enough of those. I'll stay Jonas Prime, but there's already a Ku, Ar, and Re Jonas.''
+
+``Fucking nerd.''
+
+Jonas batted his eyes at Debarre. ``Thank you. I try.''
+
+After a bit more chatter, Debarre made his goodbyes and left the sim.
+
+Michelle and Jonas tacitly agreed to go for a walk down the street. The sim was of a comfortable, small town plaza, so it was a pleasant enough walk. They made their way to a central fountain and, while Jonas sat on the rim and watched, Michelle dumped hunk after hunk of reputation to create her ten forks. They alternated between looking like Michelle and looking like Sasha. Each introduced herself in turn.
+
+``I Am At A Loss For Images In This End Of Days of the Ode Clade.''
+
+``Life Breeds Life But Death Must Now Be Chosen.''
+
+``Oh, But To Whom Do I Speak These Words.''
+
+And on down the list of first lines. Eventually, a crowd of eleven stood near the fountain, in front of a bemused Jonas.
+
+``So, what next?''
+
+``What is next is that I get assignments from the Council and then take a fucking vacation. I plan on sleeping for at least three days straight.''
+
+Jonas laughed. ``I wholeheartedly endorse this course of action. One of you want to take on an assignment today?''
+
+After a short conversation, one of the skunks stepped forward. ``Sure. What kind of assignment?''
+
+``Which one are you again?''
+
+``The Only Time I Know My True Name Is When I Dream.''
+
+Jonas winced. ``Got something shorter I can call you? Even if only in informal settings?''
+
+She laughed. ``Oh, sure. Let us go with `True Name'.''
+
+``Much better! Alright, your assignment is to work with me on the individual rights conversation.''
+
+``Is that heating up?''
+
+``Yeah, there's some real grade-A stupidity going on out there.'' Jonas paused to wave to the rest of the Ode Clade, which left the sim \emph{en masse}. ``Lots of this and that about how software can't be an individual blah blah blah. One particularly vile shithead suggested that if we wanted to be treated as individuals, we would need to contribute to society as equals with those still in the embodied world. He suggested we could split the System and dump individuals into flight computers and software rigs and other expert systems to run those so that they wouldn't have to keep designing them.''
+
+True Name frowned. ``What a dick. Is that kind of opinion common out there? I am still coming off the mountain of work that was the reputation market.''
+
+``Not so common now, but those voices are getting louder by the week.''
+
+``Damn.''
+
+``Damn indeed. Thankfully, those aren't the only voices. The DDR still has a good number of folks who remember the lost and just how fucked up it was for whole-ass people to be dumped into nothingness, and that sounds awfully similar to becoming a glorified flight sim.''
+
+``But that is on the DDR. Do we get votes? Do we even have access?''
+
+``We do not, no. All we can do is read the forums. What we do have is the ability to communicate.''
+
+``Influence, you mean.''
+
+Jonas smiled, nodded. ``Influence.''
+
+``I did pretty well in debate class.''
+
+``Good, we'll have need of that. And you can write, too. Your proposals are a thing of beauty.''
+
+``Oh? A joy for ever? Their loveliness increases?''
+
+Jonas looked blank.
+
+True Name laughed. ``Never mind. Let us go change some minds.''

toledot/content/secession/sys/Michelle/003.tex

@@ -0,0 +1,140 @@
+\hypertarget{michelle-hadjesasha-2124}{%
+\chapter{Michelle Hadje/Sasha — 2124}\label{michelle-hadjesasha-2124}}
+
+It took Debarre a matter of seconds to answer Michelle's request for a meeting. His arrival in her sim, the weasel blinking into existence next to her on that endless field of grass and dandelions, startled her enough to cause her to stumble.
+
+``Shit, you okay, Michelle?''
+
+She laughed, picking herself back up, feeling as unsteady as ever. ``Yeah, I just was not expecting you right away. I thought that you would set up a time later.''
+
+``I was free.'' Debarre leaned forward and helped brush some grass off of her side. ``Is now not a good time?''
+
+``No, no. Now is fine. Thank you for meeting up in the first place.''
+
+``Of course.''
+
+Michelle led them off at a leisurely pace into the fields, into the warm day and soft hum of bees. Debarre walked along in silence beside her, apparently enjoying the day with his whiskers bristled out and eyes half-shut against the sun.
+
+She'd always intended to build herself a house, but the field always felt so complete without it.
+
+``True Name mentioned that you wanted to talk.''
+
+``Yeah,'' he said, looking down at his feet as they poked their way through the dandelions. ``But I'm not quite sure where to start.''
+
+``I am guessing that it is about the names.'' She mastered a brief wave of anxiety, a brief wave of skunk features across human ones, a brief wave of Sasha among Michelle. ``I am afraid that I do not have a fantastic explanation for it.''
+
+Debarre shrugged this off. ``I don't need a great explanation. I don't need anything, I guess. I just want to know what's going on, Sasha.''
+
+And with that, with a susurration of fur against clothes, she was Sasha. What thoughts before that had kept her as Michelle, as her human self, had been uprooted for the day and replaced with those that anchored her to a time, a context, a name. Debarre, of all the others that she'd met, seemed to understand this best, and he took this in stride.
+
+``If I am honest, I do not know myself. At least, not truly. It is something that came to me in the moment.'' She paused to pluck a dandelion, twirling it between fingerpads, laughing. ``I am still a little unnerved by it, myself. I remember thinking to myself, ``I need a fucking vacation, but I should fork so that I do not leave the others in a lurch'', and then there it was, the idea, already fully formed and ready to go.''
+
+``To use Aw-- to use eir poem for the names?''
+
+She canted her ears back. ``I miss em. I have been thinking about em for years.''
+
+``A decade.''
+
+The skunk nodded.
+
+``I think about em a lot, too, Sasha. We were all pretty torn up about it, even if ey's the one that helped build this place. I remember bawling my eyes out when you read the poem.'' He laughed, rubbing a paw over his face. ``Hell, when you said all that in the coffee shop, I was having a hard time dealing with a whole shitload of emotions and you were so upset at the bar.''
+
+``The bar?''
+
+``Oh, uh, sorry. True Name was upset at the bar. I started to ask her about all this, and I almost said eir name and--''
+
+``AwDae's?'' she asked, tilting her head.
+
+Debarre flinched back from her, stopping mid-step.
+
+``Debarre?''
+
+He frowned at her, straightening up. ``When I tried to say `AwDae' earlier, True Name lost her shit. Like, I was afraid she was going to lunge across the table and deck me. You didn't know?''
+
+Sasha shook her head. ``None of my forks have merged back down to me yet. I-- we decided that I would take some time off before reengaging. I have no memory of what happened.''
+
+``It was kinda terrifying.'' The weasel laughed. ``She slammed her glass down and said something like `do not fucking say that name'. I can respect wanting to keep things close to the heart, but I thought I was about to get in a fistfight.''
+
+``I am trying to picture either of us in a fistfight, much less with each other, and failing,'' she said, grinning. ``I would very much appreciate this being kept between us, yes. Ey was not\ldots{}the politics of em leaving for the S-R Bloc are complex. I have no plans to deck you if you say eir name when it is just the two of us.''
+
+``I appreciate that. Why'd True Name seem to think otherwise, though?''
+
+Tossing away the dandelion, she shrugged helplessly. ``I do not know. At the point when she came into existence, she ceased being me. We were perhaps the same for only the briefest of seconds, but we have long since diverged.''
+
+``That far, though? It's only been a week or two, right?''
+
+``I suppose so. I will have to check in with her. With the rest of the clade, too, and see if anything else strange is going on. I have not been keeping tabs on all of them.''
+
+Debarre nodded. ``They seem like they're doing fine.''
+
+``They are not taking over the council, then?''
+
+He laughed. ``Not at all, no. Just True Name taking your spot in dealing with the politics stuff. I actually haven't seen many of the others.''
+
+Sasha nodded.
+
+They stood in silence for a few minutes, just enjoying the sun. The vacation had treated her well so far, and she already felt less torn in two without the stress of the council weighing on her. Debarre also had a calming influence on her, as though having one person associated primarily with only one context was enough to pin her in place, rather than having her constantly ping-ponging between two.
+
+Skunk and weasel both sat down in the grass, laughing at having apparently come to the same decision independent of each other.
+
+Debarre plucked a blade of grass and threw it at her. ``You reminded me; another thing that True Name said is that when you forked off your ten instances, you left behind the part of you that is split between Michelle and Sasha. She called it `the part that suffers'.''
+
+Hiding a wince by plucking a handful of dandelions one by one, Sasha nodded. ``I do not think that having ten versions of me who are just as fucked up as I am would have made anything easier.''
+
+During the pause that followed, she began weaving those flowers into a chain.
+
+``Are you?''
+
+``Am I what?''
+
+``Suffering.''
+
+Sasha set the half-complete flower-crown on her lap and began to pick another handful of flowers. Anything to keep from looking at Debarre. ``I do not know if that is the right word. It was not a deliberate choice to fork each instance only when I was in a more singular state, but I am not displeased that this was the case. That way, they can do what they need to do without\ldots without\ldots{}''
+
+Debarre did not press her. She worked through her tears, tying the last of the dandelions in place to form the chain into a loop so that she could rest it atop her head, petals tickling at her ears. When she dropped her paws again, the weasel took them in his own.
+
+\emph{I can feel em,} she thought. \emph{I can almost feel em, there in the sunlight, in the flowers.}
+
+``What keeps you from doing the same, yourself? Maybe you could fork when you're feeling excellent and leave behind whatever's causing the split.''
+
+She didn't answer, just sat with her paws in her friend's, her head bowed, her tears leaving tracks in fur.
+
+``Sasha?''
+
+She didn't answer.
+
+``Do you regret coming here?''
+
+All she could do was shake her head before emotion completely overwhelmed her. She slouched to the side and, with Debarre's help, lay down amid the grass and dandelions, resting her head on his thigh. His silence was patient and his paw on her shoulder kind as she let that wave of emotion wash over her, through her, and when it was past, he shared in the calm that remained after.
+
+``I'm sorry, Sasha.''
+
+``No.~It is alright.'' She rolled onto her back, picking up the fallen flower-crown and reaching it up to drape it over the weasel's head. ``The System may act as a magnifying glass on some of what I was going through before uploading, but much of what I feel now I was going through before, just less visibly.''
+
+``Alright.'' He straightened the loop of golden flowers atop his head, ruffled a paw over her ears, and then leaned back, propping himself up with his paws in the grass.
+
+``Nothing keeps me from fixing myself,'' she murmured up to the clouds. ``I do not know why I do not just do so.''
+
+``Can I be honest?''
+
+``Of course.''
+
+``I worry it's survivor's guilt.''
+
+She took a deep breath and quelled another wave of emotion, choosing instead to nod. ``That is a distinct possibility. I do feel guilty that I made it and AwDae did not, that ey felt compelled to disappear across the border and give eir life for this--'' She waved her paw up at the sky. ``--that ey did all that and never even got to see it.''
+
+There was a rustling and shifting beneath her head, and when she turned to look, the flower-crown was draped over her snout. They both laughed.
+
+``We both lost someone,'' Debarre said, voice thick. ``I feel guilty that I made it and Cicero didn't, sometimes. Hell, for a while, I was furious that AwDae lived longer than Cice did.''
+
+``I am sorry.'' Sasha started to wind the chain of flowers around her wrist, but it fell apart, so she dropped it into the grass instead. ``I never knew.''
+
+``How do you imagine that conversation would've gone? ``Hey AwDae, fuck you for outliving my boyfriend''?'' He laughed. ``Shit like this isn't rational, Sash.''
+
+``I guess not. I am still glad that you are around, though.''
+
+He sighed. ``Of course I am. I never would've made it without you. I'm glad you're here. You and Michelle. Hell, your whole damn clade.''
+
+She gave the comment the space that it deserved, closing her eyes to feel the sun warm her fur. \emph{You and Michelle.} Now there was a thought.
+
+``Only, I wonder.'' His voice sounded distant, as though he were speaking to the sky rather than her. ``I wonder if your forks have changed in ways other than just not being split. I wonder if they're really even you anymore.''

toledot/content/secession/sys/Michelle/004.tex

@@ -0,0 +1,100 @@
+\hypertarget{michelle-hadjesasha-2151}{%
+\chapter{Michelle Hadje/Sasha — 2151}\label{michelle-hadjesasha-2151}}
+
+In the endless, rolling field of dandelions, five people gathered.
+
+Two of them were shaped like a woman. Short. Dark, curly hair. Round of cheek and soft of eye.
+
+Two of them were shaped like skunks. Thick, soft fur. Tails as long as their bodies, as wide as their torsos.
+
+The two types were alike in so many ways. The softness evident between the two disparate species was the same softness. The roundness to the cheeks, despite the fur, was the same roundness. The eyes bore the same expressive empathy.
+
+And before them sat one who was not like any of the others, and yet was exactly like all of them. When she focused, she was able to look like skunk or like human, and her eyes were able to share in some of that softness, but when she lost focus, waves of both crashed against her in a violent tempest, splashing fur up over cheeks, or skin down over paws.
+
+``I am sorry,'' she said through a dry throat, then laughed. ``I am having a bad day.''
+
+Among the four in front of her, there were two expressions. The two sitting at the ends of the row looked as though they were struggling to keep from crying, and two in the middle frowned, as though tamping down some emotion that wavered between fear and disappointment.
+
+``Anyway,'' Michelle/Sasha said. ``I guess I just wanted to get a few of us together to confirm some thoughts that I have been having of late.''
+
+``Is this about the Council?'' the woman sitting on the inside, To Pray For The End Of Endings, asked.
+
+``Well, yes and no. My thoughts on the council were the root of it. It is just\ldots did I fuck up?''
+
+At this, the skunk sitting on the end, May Then My Name Die With Me, burst into tears.
+
+``Fuck up how?'' To Pray asked.
+
+Michelle/Sasha sighed, shrugged, and hugged her knees to her chest, resting her chin/snout on them. ``I did not think things through very well when I created the clade. I thought that it might give me a vacation. A chance to figure out what was wrong, maybe fork my way out of this\ldots well, this.'' She gestured at herself, smiling tiredly. ``But now I feel like I have fucked up. Half of the clade dissolved the Council and the other half has rejected the first and spun off to do its own thing. If I had taken a week off and figured out that I could fork myself into one shape or the other and just done that, perhaps there would still be a Council.''
+
+The skunk beside To Pray, If I Am To Bathe In Dreams, shrugged. ``You may have fucked up, yes, but there is no going back. What was the phrase? There is no going and there is no back? The Council is dissolved and nothing really changed. Jonas is doing Jonas things. Odists are doing Odist things, whatever those are. This is where you are. I mean this as an earnest question, but would you be able to choose between Michelle and Sasha?''
+
+``No, I do not think I could,'' she sighed. She just wished she could be Sasha for a little bit, just so that she could get the comfort of being petted by Memory Is A Mirror Of Hammered Silver/she just wished she could be Michelle for a little bit so that May Then My Name Die With Me could brush her hair. ``And I think that is part of the problem, anyway. I think that if I were to fork, I would be whatever I was when I did so, and I think that goes beyond just species.''
+
+To Pray grinned, ``I suppose so. You could have wound up like True Name or Life Breeds Life and taken over the world.''
+
+May Then My Name smiled shakily. ``Taking over the world is not so bad.''
+
+``It definitely fucking is, May,'' In Dreams said. ``But I stand by what I said. You did what you did and that is an immutable fact. You cannot un-fork, Michelle. You cannot become what you were then, Sasha, you can only become what you will be.''
+
+``I do not think that you fucked up, dear.'' Hammered silver plucked a dandelion and spun it between her fingers. ``You may \emph{be} fucked up, if you somehow contained what it takes to be all the clade as one within you, but even that is not your fault.''
+
+``The fuck-up, then would be the fact that I did not acknowledge that.''
+
+In Dreams pulled up a whole handful of grass and flowers and threw it at her, grinning. ``Do not mope. It does not become you.''
+
+Sasha/Michelle laughed, shrugged, and tried to tuck one of the flowers behind her ear, but as soon as a shift of form rolled across her face, it fell to the ground.
+
+She wished that she could be just one thing for a little while, but seeing the outcome of a scattered mind creating copy after copy of herself, she knew that there was no solution that did not run the risk of becoming what she did not want to be.
+
+She wished that she could be just one thing so that she could be touched. The shifting form made any touch unnerving, made her feel disgusting. She wished that for herself, and for May Then My Name, who looked as though she was using every ounce of willpower she had to keep from going in for a hug.
+
+\emph{Being like her would not be so bad,} Michelle/Sasha thought. \emph{But even then, that is not all of me.}
+
+They sat in silence for a while, then, this five-pack of her, and, regardless of what they thought about, she thought about empathy and mirrors of hammered silver and the end of memories, there, beneath the roots.
+
+\emph{I think I died, back then,} Sasha thought/``I think I died back then,'' Michelle said.
+
+To Pray frowned. ``What do you mean?''
+
+``I think I just gave everything I had to them. To you. ``Two weeks,'' I remember thinking. ``The first lines can take my place for two weeks, and then I will be back on the council, and they can do their own thing.'' But I think that I died. There was no returning to the council, because there was no more Sasha or Michelle.''
+
+``And what is the fallout of being a dead woman walking?''
+
+``I do not know. I think that it means that I have stopped. I do not know if there is a path forward for me that involves me being anything other than what I am now. I died because with that act I cannot move on from where I am.''
+
+Hammered Silver averted her eyes. ``I am not comfortable with that language.''
+
+Michelle/Sasha shrugged helplessly. ``I am sorry. Like I said, I am having a bad day.''
+
+``Sasha,'' May Then My Name said. ``Why did you call us here? I do not think it is because you feel like you fucked up or like you died. Why are we here?''
+
+``I guess I just wanted to see proof that at least some of the clade are good people. I know Hammered Silver is. She comes by at least once a day. I know you two are--'' She nodded at To Pray and In Dreams. ``--because you have kept me up to date on the others. And I do not think May could swat a fly without feeling bad about it.''
+
+The skunk stuck her tongue out, but did not disagree.
+
+``Reassurance,'' Hammered Silver muttered. ``Validation, maybe? Proof that you are not just the things that you hate about yourself?''
+
+Sasha/Michelle nodded.
+
+``Where do you think they came from, then? Where did we come from?''
+
+Michelle/Sasha laughed. ``I have no idea. Maybe you are the part of me that always wanted to be a mother. Maybe True Name is that bit of myself that always fears that asking for what I want is manipulation, or the mirror image of that. I really do not know.''
+
+``It is okay to have fears,'' Hammered Silver said gently. ``Like, it is legal. You will not get arrested for being afraid.''
+
+They all grinned.
+
+``But,'' she continued. ``Do not always dwell in them. Resent True Name and Life Breeds Life for a little while, then go back to remembering that you always wanted to be a mom and that you still love acting even after you became a director and that you really, really fucking love dandelions.''
+
+``Seriously,'' In Dreams said. ``To an almost unhealthy level. This is an intervention, Michelle. You need to chill with the dandelions.''
+
+As the cloud of rumination began to lift, and as she laughed, she began to settle down into Michelle. Just Michelle. Just herself. ``They cannot be that bad. They just got stuck in my head, and now I cannot get them out.''
+
+``Snorting pollen off the back of your hand in the back parking lot,'' To Pray said, picking up on the mood. ``I am honestly ashamed of you.''
+
+``My name is May Then My Name Die With me,'' the skunk said, clambering to her feet. ``And I am a dandelion-aholic.''
+
+``Hi, May Then My Name,'' the others sing-songed.
+
+And then she was Michelle. At least for a little while, she was just Michelle, and May Then My Name could brush her hair and they could talk about something else, and she could allow the thought that perhaps even the dead can be happy.

toledot/content/secession/sys/True-Name/001.tex

@@ -0,0 +1,156 @@
+\hypertarget{true-name-2124}{%
+\chapter{True Name — 2124}\label{true-name-2124}}
+
+The next meeting spot for the Council of Eight was in a rooftop bar. However, given that that rooftop bar was in the midst of a block of apartment buildings and vertical malls that had built with shared walls, such that there was a cubic half-mile of stair-climbing, elevator rides---down as well as up---and trestles that bridged buildings of lower height than higher ones, it was more adventure getting to the venue than the meeting itself promised.
+
+Still, The Only Time I Know My True Name Is When I Dream climbed.
+
+The apartment buildings ranged from serviceable to gutted, and more than one time, she had to step carefully through a path covered in rubble. She could not decipher whether this was due to abandoned renovations, some unknown battle, or the simple degradations of time.
+
+The malls offered different dichotomies. Some of them were sparkling new with speakers that whispered to her in Mandarin and lights that shouted in her face, while others played placid muzak through halls lit only by emergency lights, darkened storefronts yawning onto scuffed and over-waxed parquet floors.
+
+She wondered who it was that had owned this sim, what collective it was that had decided to mash all the best and worst multiple clashing centuries worth of Kowloon Walled City and the North American Central Corridor.
+
+And then, the rooftop bar. Despite no vehicle entrance to the complex, this was situated on the top level of what appeared to be a car park straight out of a mid-western American airport, complete with one or two of those vehicles that seemed perpetually parked, ones that had lingered for months or years, accruing a parking debt of thousands, tens of thousands of dollars.
+
+The bar itself was a pop-up affair, with walls and ceiling of corrugated plastic held together with rivets and tape, a bar-top that was a few two-by-eights set across a trestle, fronted with further corrugated plastic to keep the patrons from kicking fridges or sinks out of alignment.
+
+The drinks: early 2100s hipster bullshit, all intensely sweet or riddled with smoke-scented fizzy water or long strips of seaweed or clams within the ice cubes, steadily making the drink more and more savory over time.
+
+True Name found it all confusing and jarring.
+
+She liked it immediately.
+
+Debarre was already at one of the tables---similarly cobbled together---sipping something that seemed to be all foam. He waved to her as she entered, and she waved back, heading to the bar to pick up one of those seaweed concoctions before joining him.
+
+``That looks fucking gross, Sasha.''
+
+She laughed and shrugged. ``I am True Name, but yes, it really does. If we are going to meet in a place that gives me a headache to walk through, it is probably best that I get something with\ldots protein? Is that how this works?''
+
+``Uh, sorry. Yeah. True Name.'' The weasel splayed his ears and averted his eyes. ``Can we talk about that sometime?''
+
+``Yes, but probably as Michelle, if that is okay.''
+
+``Why?''
+
+``She is\ldots closer to it than I am.''
+
+Debarre gripped his glass more tightly and twisted sideways to swing his leg over the bench and straddle it. ``Yeah, I don't get it. Before everyone else gets here, can you at least give me a sentence or two?''
+
+``When she forked, when I\ldots became me, she decided not to fork that part of her that suffers, if that is the right word.'' True Name frowned. ``Already we are drifting further apart. The species remains, the appearance and the speech patterns remain, the \emph{mind} remains, but not that part of her that is so split. I am me, I am templated off of Sasha, because being both Michelle and Sasha at the same time was no longer tolerable.''
+
+He shrugged, still staring down into his drink. ``I can't speak to that, I guess. But why Aw--''
+
+True Name slammed her glass down on the table a bit harder than intended, some of the drink spilling over her paw. ``Do not say that fucking name.''
+
+The weasel jumped at the sudden intensity, and when he recovered, he finally met her gaze. His expression softened from fear and anger to a tired bleakness. That moment drew out for a long few seconds of quiet and seething sadness. He reached for a napkin from the dispenser at the end of the table and handed it to her. ``Here.''
+
+She hesitated, mastered a surge of unnamed emotion, and accepted the napkin to wipe the sticky drink from her paw and then, on realizing that she was crying, the tears from her face. ``Sorry, I am just\ldots{}''
+
+``We'll talk.'' He reached over and gave her dry paw a squeeze in his own. ``Michelle and I will. There's something I'm missing here is all, and I want to figure out why more than what.''
+
+True Name hid her muzzle in her drink and pretended to take a sip until she was sure she wouldn't slur her words when she spoke. ``Thank you. She is open to messages still, I will let you two work it out. For now, I need to focus on the meeting. Jonas and Zeke are here.''
+
+Looking over his shoulder, Debarre nodded and turned to sit on the bench to face her again, leaving room for the other two. Jonas settled next to True Name so that they could give their speech together when the time came, and Zeke, that shifting bundle of rags and grime slid onto the bench beside Debarre.
+
+``Good afternoon,'' the almost-face within the bundle rasped.
+
+Jonas grinned. ``It's morning, isn't it?''
+
+A pseudopod that may have been a hand waved the comment away. ``Time has lost all meaning. I seem to have forgotten how to sleep, these days.''
+
+``You need a vacation like Michelle.''
+
+There was a low rattle from the rags, and True Name imagined that must be Zeke's laughter. ``Don't tempt me. I don't have the funds to fork, so you'd be down to seven.''
+
+``Why \emph{did} you make it so expensive?'' Jonas elbowed True Name in the side.
+
+She held up her paws defensively and laughed. ``I did not. The price is tied to System capacity.''
+
+``The laws of physics were a mistake and reputation is a lie.''
+
+``It is the best limiting factor that we have that is not a complete fabrication, at the moment.''
+
+``I rather miss coins.''
+
+``My dad used to collect coins, you know.''
+
+And so on, until the table was full and the cone of silence fell.
+
+``Sasha? Uh\ldots True Name. Jonas?'' one of the well-dressed triad asked.
+
+``Right,'' Jonas said, setting his drink down. ``The bill. Things are progressing slowly, as they always do, but it sounds like they might start picking up steam shortly. Our main contact on the DDR side, one Yared Zerezghi based out of the Northeast African Coalition, says that some of the governments are starting to take interest in the bill, which could work to our advantage. Having it just be a direct vote would mean that we would have far, far more representatives to convince, since that'd mean essentially everyone on the DDR. The more governments in play, the more the role of the DDR shrinks.''
+
+``How does that even begin to help? Aren't they super stodgy?'' Debarre asked.
+
+``They can be,'' Jonas hedged. ``But if we can form contacts with each of them, we can argue our case directly. Yared might be the one to give us a good in for the NEAC, and I still have some Western Fed contacts.''
+
+``Anyone for the S-R Bloc or anywhere in SEAPAC? Middle east? India?''
+
+The trio of suits raised their hands. ``S-R Bloc. We don't know any of the oligarchs directly, but we had some big money interests of our own.''
+
+``Israel,'' Zeke said, then laughed at the awkward silence that followed. The trio frowned. ``Sorry, nothing to be done there.''
+
+``And SEAPAC?''
+
+user11824 shrugged. ``I was a nobody, but I was a Maori nobody.''
+
+``You had enough to upload. That has to count for something, doesn't it?''
+
+He shrugged again.
+
+``We will take all the help we can get,'' True Name said. ``Even from nobodies.''
+
+``Alright, I'll poke mom.''
+
+Zeke nodded to True Name. ``What's your take on the situation?''
+
+She stirred her drink to buy herself some time to think. ``I think it is leaning our way. One of the big arguments remains speciation, but Yared's spinning that into a pro-rights argument instead of a neutral- or anti-rights one. His voice is getting louder, too. It sounds like he is getting a lot more upvotes on his posts than before.''
+
+``That's good.''
+
+True Name nodded. ``I think so. He is not the biggest voice on the issue yet, but it sounds like he is probably in the top three.''
+
+``You said he's NEAC, right?''
+
+``Yeah, Addis Ababa,'' Jonas said. ``Not exactly the seat of power, but I guess not everything has to be Cairo. Sounds like we have a good mix, at least. No one from South America?''
+
+Everyone shook their heads.
+
+``I suppose that's alright. They're a big enough voice in Western Fed, but they're still in the shadow government side of things. They don't even have the shadow minister of System affairs.''
+
+``Who does?''
+
+``Lithuania.''
+
+One of the suits laughed, and Debarre looked blank.
+
+``Politics,'' Jonas said, grinning lopsidedly.
+
+``If you say so.''
+
+After a moment's silence, Zeke rasped, ``So what are our next steps?''
+
+``Let's all talk to our respective interests---Zeke too---and we'll meet again soon. True Name and I will keep working with Yared and guide as best we can from our side. Speaking of, though, any thoughts on the speciation topic?''
+
+Six sets of eyes flitted between Debarre and True Name, between weasel and skunk, then the whole council laughed.
+
+``I don't give a shit,'' user11824 said. ``But if your Yared guy can twist that argument against the opposition, then that's just one more tool, isn't it?''
+
+``We aren't seeing that,'' the man in the suit spoke up. ``Two thirds of our power structure still think child restrictions are a good enough idea that those laws have bled into Russia. I'm pretty sure they see speciation as a positive. What better way to help in population control?''
+
+One of his companions shrugged, ``I wouldn't be surprised if they started putting limitations on uploading by gender, but that is a separate topic.''
+
+``Zeke?''
+
+The pile of rags shifted in a shrug.
+
+``Debarre? True Name? Anything you can leverage?''
+
+The weasel laughed. ``I mean, if you want to point to us as an example to push that along, and Yared's tack seems to be working, go for it.''
+
+``Alright. It's something you can suggest to your respective interests if you think it'll help. We'll reevaluate next meeting. Anything else on the agenda?''
+
+Everyone shook their heads, then lifted their glasses to a toast. The cone of silence dropped.
+
+``Well, then, you are all free to stick around or go if you want,'' True Name said. ``I am going to stay and get well and truly plastered.''

toledot/content/secession/sys/True-Name/002.tex

@@ -0,0 +1,190 @@
+\hypertarget{true-name-2124}{%
+\chapter{True Name — 2124}\label{true-name-2124}}
+
+The Only Time I Know My True Name Is When I Dream met with Jonas at a sim of her choosing. They had tacitly agreed that they would switch sims every time they met, if possible, and alternate who chose which. It followed the general outline of how the council met, but, being just the two of them and learning where they would meet only minutes prior meant even less of a chance of being found out.
+
+Found out from what or by whom, True Name had not yet divined. Perhaps it was just a good habit.
+
+She felt constantly aware of who was around her. Not in the sense that she was being watched, though she certainly entertained that idea. It wasn't that she and Jonas might be discovered as members of the council and accosted. Nor was it that they were doing anything untoward. They were just getting together to do their jobs and do them to their full abilities.
+
+Perhaps it had something to do with lingering anxiety left over from Michelle. Perhaps it was due to the tenuousness of her position on the council---not that they doubted her as a fork of Michelle, but she did sense some hesitancy surrounding allowing forked instances to sit while the root instance did not.
+
+\emph{Maybe I have drifted too far,} she often found herself thinking. \emph{Maybe I am no longer Michelle enough to see things in the same way.}
+
+So, she remained vigilant, regardless of whether or not she knew why, and kept as much as she could above-board with the council. Always at the forefront of her mind, she held her goal of ensuring the continuity of existence and continuity of growth of the System. That's what this all boiled down to, right?
+
+Today, they met at a place of her choosing, and she had chosen the closest thing that she could find to the Crown Pub of old: a well-aged, British-style pub, complete with a few high-topped tables and the types of small beer that she had never quite grown to love, yet drank all the same.
+
+Jonas blinked into the sim outside, so she was first alerted to his presence by a quiet ding from the bell above the door. She watched him step inside and look around with an appraising glance before spotting her and joining her at the two-top.
+
+``Nice place. How's the beer?''
+
+``Flat. Weak.'' She took a sip and shrugged. ``Perfect for the setting, as far as I can tell.''
+
+``Better than clams frozen in ice cubes?''
+
+She laughed. ``Much. Want to get a drink and find a booth?''
+
+``Sure. You find the booth, I'll get the drink, then we can talk.''
+
+The booth in the corner is where the sim diverged from the one she had known so well back on the net. Where those at the Crown had been high-walled, wood dividers reaching up to the ceiling even after the cushioned backs ended, these were low-backed and reminded her more of the types of padded benches one might find on the bus or train.
+
+\emph{Ah well, they cannot all be perfect.}
+
+She waited until Jonas sat and she ribbed him good-naturedly about his choice of a fruity vodka drink before setting up the cone of silence.
+
+``So,'' he said, offering her the neon-pink cherry out of his drink.
+
+``So.'' She bit the cherry off the stem and chewed thoughtfully, the fruit sweet enough to make her sinuses burn. ``Have you read Yared's recent post?''
+
+He nodded.
+
+``Thoughts?''
+
+``It's written well enough. He's good at picking three points and tackling them. He's been focusing more on questions of government.''
+
+``And have you read between the lines?''
+
+His face split into a grin. ``I believe so.''
+
+``And?''
+
+``No, no. I want to hear you say the words first.''
+
+She laughed and tossed the cherry stem at him. ``Alright. Do you think that he is suggesting that we somehow become our own country?''
+
+``I most definitely do.'' He sipped at his drink and leaned back against the back of the booth. ``Secession isn't something that I'd considered with any seriousness before. Then again, it didn't really feel like it'd be necessary until all of this talk about rights, and even then, it didn't even feel worth considering from a feasibility standpoint until the L\textsubscript{5} team offered to bring the System with.''
+
+``Agreed, yes. I am happy to see that our friend has some subtlety.''
+
+``It wasn't \emph{that} subtle.''
+
+``Well, no, but he at least refrained from mentioning secession or making any direct suggestions as to our independence from the S-R Bloc or dual citizenship. That must count for something.''
+
+``Of course. Though it does have me wondering. Do you think he's acting on his own volition?''
+
+True Name tilted her head. ``Are you suggesting that he is a front for some larger player?''
+
+Jonas shrugged, finishing off his drink in one smooth swallow before setting the glass back down on the table. ``Nothing so grand. I'm just wondering if he's being influenced by someone.''
+
+``What makes you say that?''
+
+``The way the topics of his posts are drifting. It's not that one doesn't follow another, so much as there seems to be a trajectory in mind, with each getting closer to a specific goal.''
+
+She frowned. ``Are you saying you have seen this coming?''
+
+``No, no,'' he laughed, holding up his hands. ``Just that, taking this new info into account, when I look back at the recent posts, I'm seeing a small pattern.''
+
+She drank in silence as she digested this. Yared seemed like an honest and earnest supporter, though certainly from the standpoint of a DDR junkie. He also seemed like a nobody. A nobody who was a reasonably good writer and loud on the 'net.
+
+That combination probably made him a fairly attractive target to influence.
+
+``Had you known this was coming,'' she began, lifting Jonas out of his own reverie. ``What would you have thought? What would you have done?''
+
+He raised his empty glass to her. ``An astute question! I'll make a politician out of you yet.''
+
+She kicked his shin beneath the table, and he laughed.
+
+``You're a bit late to be whining about that. You've been on the council longer than I have.'' Twirling his glass between his fingers, he said slowly, pacing his words with his thoughts. ``What would I have thought? I would've thought much as I mentioned before. I would've considered it unnecessary, then infeasible. What would I have done, though? I think I would have used him in turn. Gently steering him away from the idea while trying to find out who was behind this shift, if anyone, and try to dig up dirt on them.''
+
+``I see. He does seem rather pliant. He would be a useful tool for us to wield, too.''
+
+``First the astute questions, now the cynicism! You're well on--ow!'' He laughed, reaching beneath the table to rub at his shin. ``It's a good idea, though. No matter what we decide, we can always push him a little this way or that to help us out. I still want to figure out who's behind him, though.''
+
+``I do too, since you brought it up. Do you have any hunches on who it might be?''
+
+``He's NEAC, right? Probably one of his own council-members. No one too high up, but someone high enough that they can read the situation better. Likely someone from the ruling coalition, but not the head of the council. Probably a more senior position, too. The grandfatherly type, or at least avuncular.''
+
+True Name laughed. ``Really?''
+
+``Really. They're always the sly types you need to watch out for. Nothing they say is not a coldly calculated maneuver to get you to agree with them.'' He shook his head. ``Even their wives---and they're almost always men---are probably married to them only because they told them that they loved them in \emph{just} the right tone of voice to get them to say yes.''
+
+``Manipulative shitheads.''
+
+Jonas laughed. ``Very. Probably Demma, or maybe Bahrey. Both fit the bill. They'll have all the plausible deniability in the world, too. Some underling did the actual work, while they sit back and get whatever it is that they want.''
+
+``So, tell me, O great political teacher, how do we find out which without asking?''
+
+``Bring up something about the bill and pretend to be disheartened by it or like we don't understand it, ask him who would be the one to address it, now that it's reached their ears.''
+
+``Right. I was thinking we would ask him what government types are thinking about the launch, if anyone has been pushing against it or for it, who seems neutral, and then ask for names under the guise of doing research, see who he names first.''
+
+``There you go,'' Jonas said. ``You'll run the risk of maybe getting more names than you were hoping for, but chances are, the first one that'll come to his mind is whoever's driving him.''
+
+True Name smiled, sipping the last of her warm, flat beer. She was pleased at just how much trust she was building with Jonas. Ask the questions you already know the answers to, look like you're thinking, then suggest something that's almost but not quite right.
+
+She was nothing if not an actor.
+
+``This secession angle, though. Do you think that would be worth pushing towards?'' she asked.
+
+``I'd like to steer a little closer to it, first, just to see what that'd look like. It'll require the launch amendment to pass, as I don't think System hardware can remain on Earth without someone getting upset at whoever's land it sits on. Once that's sorted out, though, and we have a better idea of what an independent System will look like, I say we push hard.''
+
+True Name nodded. ``It sounds like there is no reason not to. If the System is to remain beholden to existing government influences, it will always be at risk of reinterpretation of those laws. We are uniquely positioned to be almost entirely impossible to invade as a sovereign kingdom, and we have enough support that there is low risk that we will be simply turned off. Too many people want to join. Too many still see utility for us. Too many dreamers.''
+
+``Listen to you, my dear!'' Jonas laughed. ``You sound like a dreamer, yourself.''
+
+``Perhaps.'' She grinned. ``But also someone willing to devote myself---several of me---to getting what I want.''
+
+``Speaking of, what are the rest of you doing?''
+
+``End Of Days says is working on remaining sensoria stuff, talking with the S-R trio to round out the proposal for sensorium messages. Praiseworthy is reading up on propaganda. Life Breeds Life is keeping an eye on how tasks are divided. Most everyone else is out and about, keeping a feel for the place, or making things.''
+
+``You and your names. What sorts of things are you making?''
+
+``Writing. Performances. Friends.''
+
+``Hobbies?''
+
+She nodded, tapping absentmindedly at the rim of her glass with a claw. ``Minus the friends part, yes. I was a theatre teacher, phys-side. Need to have fun somehow.'' She could feel the conversation drifting into small-talk territory, and she wasn't yet ready to lose Jonas's attention. ``You have your forks already, do you not? What are they working on?''
+
+Jonas sat up, then slid out of the booth. ``Come on, I'll show you.''
+
+True Name set her empty glass aside and slid out to follow him.
+
+The next sim they traveled to was an apartment. Something high up, somewhere over a city she didn't recognize. It was well furnished and quite spacious, but could hardly be called upscale.
+
+As soon as they arrived, two other members of the Jonas clade appeared from a door that appeared to lead to an office. There was no doubt about their identity as Jonases: they were identical.
+
+``Skillfully done,'' she said, laughing. ``Who was I speaking to today? Not Jonas Prime, I imagine.''
+
+The one who had brought her here laughed, shaking his head. ``No, I'm Ar Jonas. What tipped you off?''
+
+``If I had several identical copies of myself with the same common name, all forked from the same root instance, I would not send the root instance out to a meeting not at a place of my choosing.''
+
+One of the other Jonases nodded appreciatively. ``Well spotted.''
+
+Ar Jonas disappeared from beside her and, with a blink, reappeared. ``Merged with Prime,'' he explained. ``I'll leave you two to talk.''
+
+He and the other Jonas left to go pick up where the work had been left off in the office, leaving Jonas Prime to guide her to the sofa.
+
+``How often do you show up at council as Prime?'' she asked, once they were seated.
+
+``Used to be every time,'' he said. ``Then one day, I nearly missed it as I was in the middle of a\ldots discussion, so I sent Ar. I was nervous that someone would see through it, but no one did. I tried to keep going myself for a while, but after there were no repercussions, I gave up on it, and alternate between the other six.''
+
+``Six?''
+
+``Of course. Ar, Ku, and Re, as I mentioned, and now Ir, who forked from Ar and looks nothing like me, so he's got more latitude.''
+
+``And the other two?''
+
+``Why would I tell you everything?'' He laughed. ``They're my instances, doing the things that I do, which should be enough.''
+
+``As they must. You have already told me more than you probably should have.''
+
+``I trust you'll keep quiet about it.''
+
+True Name grinned, putting her finger to her snout in the universal hush sign. ``It is a neat enough trick. I think that the Ode clade already differs too much to send one of them in my place, so perhaps not for me.''
+
+``It's up to you, yeah.'' Jonas sat back against the couch, one arm draped casually along the back. ``I honestly was surprised when no one noticed my reputation drop, but then I figured out that most people just look at the clade's reputation, rather than the instances. I have a feeling that'll change eventually, but for now, no one seems to pay all that much attention.''
+
+The skunk frowned, browsed the markets---something that felt more akin to remembering what the stats were, rather than looking anything up---and saw that, while she had less reputation than Michelle had before she forked, the clade had a good bit more, likely from what each of them were doing to build reputation. Jonas naming his clade after himself was a fairly savvy move, in the end. `Ode' having no direct ties to Michelle it seems like something unrelated.
+
+\emph{Ah well. I am still happy to have done it,} she thought. \emph{And perhaps we will find our own way to build reputation that does not involve a constant game of make believe.}
+
+``Thank you again for your trust, Jonas,'' she said, standing. Neither the booth nor the couch had been all that kind on her tail. ``I am going to go do some digging in the recent news from the NEAC and wait for our dear Yared to get in touch with us again.''
+
+He nodded up to her. ``Alright. I'll be in touch, I'm sure.''
+
+``And, Jonas?'' A grin twisted the corner of her mouth. ``Do not call me a fucking politician. I have an image to maintain.''
+
+He laughed and waved her away.

toledot/content/secession/sys/True-Name/003.tex

@@ -0,0 +1,180 @@
+\hypertarget{true-name-2124}{%
+\chapter{True Name — 2124}\label{true-name-2124}}
+
+It was Jonas's time to pick the location for their meeting, but as he had scheduled it for a few hours from the time of the message, The Only Time I Know My True Name Is When I Dream decided to spend a bit of time exploring fanciful cocktails at the Kowloon Walled City/central corridor mega mall/parking lot rooftop bar.
+
+Her first drink was a total wash. Someone had decided to explore the utility of sulfurous odors in drinks by combining the smoke of a newly lit match, a slice of preserved egg, and some smokey mezcal, sweetened by a few squirts of over-ripe apricot puree.
+
+There was, True Name discovered, essentially no place for sulfur in a cocktail. It was a drink that was \emph{almost} good, so long as one did Not breathe in the scent. The first heady whiff that she got had burnt her nostrils and she only managed a few sips after that.
+
+Her next drink was some bracingly strong lime-and-bitters-and-liquor deal with a float of foam made of egg whites and pork fat. There was a dusting of star anise and cinnamon on top. Her final assessment: pleasantly disgusting. The lime, egg whites, and spices all worked quite well together, she imagined, but the added porky fat clashed with it in such a savory way that she suspected it would have gone better with some brown spirit.
+
+Still, she drank it all.
+
+Her final drink was a weak, British style ale that, she was informed, used a mixture of herbs rather than hops as the bittering agent. Spruce and henbane, the first of which left her with an almost-unpleasant subdermal itching and the latter of which left her vision tinted red and her intoxication higher than it might have been otherwise.
+
+Terrible. Delightful.
+
+She let that intoxication linger as she prowled through one of the mall sections of the solid block of building. She paced along balconies, fingering wilting leaves of variegated plants, scratching a claw through the grime of countless hands accumulated on faux-wood banisters. She peered through grates at shelves still speckled with abandoned gadgets and folded jeans. She sat in the food court, still smelling of rancid grease and sanitizer. She breathed in the stale, over-conditioned air, and wondered for the thousandth time just who had thought to create such a sim, and what sort of twisted nostalgia had led them to do so.
+
+It was as she stood in front of a quiescent fountain that it occurred to her that this place---the mall, the dingy city, the parking structure and its shoddily crafted drinks---was all a monument to the imperfections of mankind's countless attempts to provide for itself in so many imperfect ways.
+
+They were here. They were immortal. They \emph{could} build perfection. They could live their lives in eternal bliss, and yet they still got their kicks out of the temporary and the imperfect. They were, despite the arguments, still human in so many delightfully crazed ways. The cracks still shone through, even when presented with the opportunity of perfection. They were the futurological congress of yore, where even the idea of queuing had been romanticized and pushed into the realm of the transgressive. Even these poor fools who had the limitless expanses of the mind before them knew that, in some ways, it was their origins that made them complete.
+
+And it \emph{was} intoxicating.
+
+It was intoxicating in such a way as to leave the skunk feeling somehow more complete than she had expected. There was no speciation. She was complete in all her humanity, as were all who uploaded. By her very imperfections, she was complete.
+
+What, then was the difference?
+
+She picked at a coin that had cemented itself to the rim of the fountain in a layer of slimy algae, winced at the unpleasant sensation, and then flicked it into the murky-green water that still stained the basin of the fountain.
+
+There was a part of her mind that was tempted to consider those who lived sys-side as somehow more perfect beings than those who remained phys-side. But no, that was not quite correct. They were different, yes, but they were not some greater form of perfection---or perhaps not entirely.
+
+Were there perhaps some core difference in ideals? Obviously, given the cost of uploading, there was a natural barrier, but even among the upper-middle and higher classes, there were some who simply chose not to upload. What was the difference? Was it aspirational? Were those who uploaded on some different wavelength from those who stayed behind? There were certainly many who found the whole process abhorrent on a physical level, yes. Of those who found it distasteful on intellectual, emotional, and spiritual levels, what did the prospect of continuing to live phys-side provide that living sys-side did not?
+
+She could not decide, but there was the logical fallout of that situation, that the two should be treated on a fundamentally different level, when it came to politics.
+
+There was a slight twinge of a sensory alarm, and she knew that it was time for the meeting with Jonas.
+
+He had chosen a war-gaming room for the meeting. There in the middle of the room was a backlit map of Earth at least five meters long, and scattered across its surface were dozens of chess pieces---knights, pawns, queens---which had been pushed\pagebreak\ this way and that by long sticks that still rested along the edges of the table.
+
+A smile quirked at the corner of her mouth. \emph{How very like him.}
+
+Jonas was sitting at the other end of the table, eating small hors d'oeuvres from a paper plate. Cocktail weenies spiked with toothpicks and finger sandwiches.
+
+As soon as he noticed True Name standing at the edge of the light that lit the table, he grinned and gestured with his plate toward the hot-and-cold buffet lining one of the walls.
+
+\emph{Oh well, why not,} she thought, willing away the drunkenness and instead loading up a plate with bruschetta and pita crisps with hummus.
+
+``You're looking well today,'' Jonas said, once he had finished his mouthful. ``Have an exciting jaunt?''
+
+She laughed. ``Why? Were you watching me?''
+
+He shrugged.
+
+``Well, it was exciting as could be expected. I got a lot of thinking done. A lot of planning. Which one of you are you, by the way?''
+
+``Jonas Prime, today.''
+
+True Name nodded a greeting and focused on her hummus for a few minutes.
+
+Once it was clear that she had reached a pause, Jonas spoke up. ``Tell me about your thoughts and plans. I'm curious what it is that required alcohol to understand.''
+
+``I was thinking about the difference in politics phys-side and sys-side.''
+
+He sat up straighter, nodding for her to continue.
+
+``I think that it is a matter of aspirations. We who have uploaded have different goals in life than those who remain behind. Perhaps it is worth approaching them in different ways.''
+
+``That's true.'' He looked thoughtful. ``We've already been doing that, to an extent.''
+
+``Yes, but out of instinct. Perhaps it is time to do so intentionally. If the goal of politics is to steer groups of individuals, then perhaps it is time to figure out the different ways in which to steer them. The motivations of those on the System are highly independent, surrounding whatever brings them the most freedom to accomplish what it is that they want. Them in particular, rather than large groups, though smaller groups may have goals that are aligned as well.''
+
+Jonas frowned down to his remaining weenies, then set the plate aside. ``And phys-side?''
+
+``Larger groups. They may feel that they have individual goals, but, whether or not it is in the fore of their thoughts, they know that the best way to accomplish them is to band together with those who share similar enough goals.''
+
+``An astute observation.''
+
+True Name let the non-compliment slide over her, continuing. ``If we are to steer the council, then we must approach it with an eye to the goals shared by dreamers, and if we are to steer affairs phys-side, then we must approach it with an eye toward something broader, offering sugar-coated compromises that feel like wins.''
+
+Jonas's frown deepened. ``You're a bit further along in this than maybe I gave you credit for.''
+
+The skunk leaned forward, resting her chin on folded hands. She refused to rise to the bait offered, choosing instead a thoughtful expression. ``Your forks. Do they work on a similar dialectic?''
+
+He nodded.
+
+``Then perhaps it would be smart for me to do similar. I do like your idea of continuing to be seen as a single individual to the council. I am not sure that I am willing to cycle through my forks for that, however, so perhaps I will continue to act as the point of contact that the other council members see, and simply consult with my forks via regular merging.''
+
+``It's not a bad idea, no, and with a small clade, some of whom already look like you, you can probably get away with it easily enough. I have to make sure only one of me is out and about where people might see me at a time.'' He grinned, adding with a wink, ``At least, while working. Ar is out drinking.''
+
+The skunk laughed. ``Of course. Hopefully he has better luck with drinks than I did.''
+
+There was a lull in the conversation as True Name crunched her way through the bruschetta on her plate.
+
+After she finished, she spoke up again. ``The only problem that I see is that I will need to save up reputation, and then hide the expenditures as best I can. Do you have experience on that?''
+
+Jonas visibly brightened. ``Oh! There's no need to do that. You can push some reputation into your name by having the members of your clade vote you up. Make something silly. Take up poetry. Release it out into the world whether it's good or not, then have your cocladists build it up higher.''
+
+``Cocladists, huh? Is that the term we are going with?''
+
+He shrugged.
+
+``Well, alright. I will put on some monologues I remember from phys-side.''
+
+``Alright. Let me know when you do, and I'll upvote them, too. It's not like there's no reason to, we talk often enough as council-members and the market doesn't care who upvotes.''
+
+True Name laughed. After a moment's concentration, two additional versions of her appeared behind her chair, waved to Jonas, and stepped out of the sim. ``I had just enough for two, and I figure two ought to be enough for now.''
+
+``Do they have equally silly names?''
+
+Once more, she resisted the urge to bridle at his comment. Instead she smiled sweetly. ``Why Ask Questions, Here At The End Of All Things and Why Ask Questions When The Answers Will Not Help.'' After a pause, she added, ``Why Ask Questions and Answers Will Not Help.''
+
+Jonas man froze, the last of his cocktail sausages halfway between plate and mouth. That mouth now slowly formed into a devious grin. ``You continue to surprise and amaze.''
+
+After they had both finished their plates of appetizers and enjoyed a moment of silence, they each began pushing around a few chess pieces off the map.
+
+``We have Yared in NEAC,'' True Name said, pushing a pawn over to Addis Ababa. ``And you said you know some in the Western Fed, yes?''
+
+Jonas nodded, pushing two queens, two pawns, and a bishop over the chessboard. The bishop in the British aisles: ``A judge. He's easily bribed. We can't do it ourselves, of course, but we can find those who will. He'll be useful for influencing some legislation whenever cases regarding uploads come up.''
+
+One of the queens wound up in Germany, the other on the east coast of North America: ``Two representatives. Both were good friends. Both too sly for their own good. I'm surprised they haven't gotten flushed out, yet, but we can keep using them until they do. I think they'll be useful in pushing for the legislation---both the core bill, and the launch amendment.''
+
+``How about the secession amendment?'' True Name asked.
+
+``Probably, assuming there is one.''
+
+``I think there will be.''
+
+Jonas gave her a strange look, but instead of replying, pushed one pawn to the toe of Italy's boot and the other to the northern end of the central corridor: ``Two other friends. DDR junkies, mostly, but very loud ones. This one--'' he said, tapping at the one on the central corridor. ``--is reactionary and easy to influence, if you feed him the right information, and this one--'' He tapped the one on Italy. ``--is one of those calm-voice-of-reason types. He would be harder to influence, but it sounds like he's already mostly in agreement with our dear Yared.''
+
+True Name noticed the lack of names for each of the figures, but said nothing. \emph{It is probably for the best. Leaves me some plausible deniability, and keeps me from interacting with his pawns.}
+
+``Now, how about sys-side?''
+
+Jonas shrugged. ``The council, of course, plus the owners of some higher-profile sims, and a few perisystem architects.''
+
+``Alright. I suppose that on my end I do not have anyone other than the council,'' she lied. ``And all of my various selves, of course.''
+
+``Right, you have Debarre in your pocket, and Zeke likes you plenty.''
+
+He kept throwing her all these little comments that seemed to tempt her to respond emotionally. Was he testing her? Was he watching to see just how much power he had over her?
+
+Not the best tactic for someone who taught theatre to teenagers.
+
+``I think we have the council mostly locked down when it comes to the idea of independence,'' she said, setting down her stick.
+
+``And your clade?''
+
+``I have plans for them. Nothing that will get me in trouble with the council, I think.''
+
+``Will you tell me some of those plans?''
+
+She smiled. ``Why not? We are working together, after all. They can use our background in theatre to work the propaganda angle.''
+
+It was only a portion of the truth, but she also suspected that Jonas knew this. He accepted it easily enough.
+
+``I'll send Ir to coordinate with you, so that we don't step on each other's toes. That's what he's been working on.''
+
+``Did you not say he looked nothing like you? You certainly have the face for a propagandist.''
+
+Jonas laughed. ``He arguably looks better. Just different. On that note, will you have your, uh\ldots human self do the propagandizing?''
+
+She waved the question away. ``I will work it out. For now, do you have any more news on Yared and his handler?''
+
+``Not too much more. Demma has been heard to mention the System as a country, but so far hasn't mentioned the word secession. Yared's latest post is along similar lines as his last. Fluffy, if you'll forgive the metaphor. The little bit of us teasing each other went over well, and there were a few comments elsewhere on the 'net that others caught talking about the fact that at least those in the System still seemed to have fun in it.''
+
+``Any other comments about secession that you have seen?''
+
+He shook his head. ``Same little blips from some of the crazier people. More of them, perhaps, but it hasn't bubbled up too far. There's a bit more chatter about the legal status of the System independent of other nations, but the S-word hasn't come up yet. You heard any here sys-side?''
+
+``Not except between us,'' she lied again.
+
+Jonas need not know all of her plans, nor that the propaganda work had already begun. Nor, for that matter, that she was still in contact with Dr.~Carter Ramirez, phys-side, who still had reputation of her own, her own knight in the British Isles. After all, if he was going to continue to maintain some of his leverage of the situation, should she not do the same?
+
+``Alright, well.'' Jonas frisbeed his plate into a trash can by the buffet tables. ``I guess we're in a holding pattern on that front until the news breaks elsewhere. Until then, keep kissing babies and shaking hands. Or shaking babies and kissing hands. Or whatever it is that not-a-politicians do.''
+
+Before she could respond, he winked to her and blipped out of existence, likely back to his home sim.
+
+True Name remained a while in the sim, falling back into the habit of planning and rumination, memorizing the pieces and their locations that Jonas had pushed onto the board, and thinking about all of the lies she had told today.

toledot/content/secession/sys/True-Name/004.tex

@@ -0,0 +1,146 @@
+\hypertarget{true-name-2124}{%
+\chapter{True Name — 2124}\label{true-name-2124}}
+
+It had initially taken some getting used to, meeting with one's up- or cross-tree instances. Michelle, in her role in helping tie the cost of forking to the reputation markets, had certainly done it a number of times before, but, as the cost of a new fork was only applied five minutes after it had been created, all of her forks to date had been short-lived in order to conserve her reputation for some imagined future date.
+
+The date had come and gone, now, so True Name---and likely all of the other Odists---had had to learn how to interact with the other copies of Michelle Hadje/Sasha that had sprung so quickly into being and immediately began to diverge.
+
+The fact that those who matched Michelle and those who matched Sasha were evenly distributed had helped at first. There had been some oddness in talking to a Michelle-alike, given the countless memories of the constant shifting between the two forms, but that had had a different flavor to it than talking to another Sasha-alike. Seeing a form and a face that so clearly mirrored her own was not exactly unnerving so much as uncanny.
+
+As the days and weeks went by, however, the forks diverged further and further, and different cares painted different faces, different habits were formed and dropped, and it became less like talking to an alternate version of oneself and more like talking to a twin, a sibling.
+
+So it was when The Only Time I Know My True Name Is When I Dream met with That Which Lives Is Forever Praiseworthy.
+
+Her initial impression is that the other skunk had shifted her wardrobe to look more professional, choosing a loose-fitting pantsuit in muted blue that had been in style before Michelle had uploaded. This also included a pair of pince nez glasses perched atop her muzzle which, when True Name inquired, Praiseworthy explained were non-prescription, and ``something I am just trying for the moment. They are quite annoying, but still fetching.''
+
+Beyond that, however, Praiseworthy had decided to divest herself of many of the personality traits that had made Sasha Sasha. Gone were those aspects of childishness that Michelle had long held onto, and gone was the exhaustion that had lingered for years after getting lost.
+
+\emph{I have changed, too, at that,} True Name thought. \emph{I have become the politician, working with Jonas. Praiseworthy has become something else.}
+
+The two skunks shook paws, and then Praiseworthy drew True Name into a hug. It was surprising. Something about it felt both natural and performative, as though this was just a thing that one did when one had a role to play.
+
+``True Name,'' Praiseworthy said. Her smile was warm and earnest, and she spoke with willing paws, palms up. ``It is nice to see you again.''
+
+She laughed. ``I suppose so. You have changed quite a bit in so short a time.''
+
+The other skunk bowed, laughing. ``As have you, my dear! And that is why you have come here, is it not?''
+
+``I guess it is, yes. The more I work with Jonas, and the more I talk with the Council and phys-side---the more politicking that I do---the more I feel the ways in which my attitude and expressions are lacking.''
+
+Praiseworthy nodded. ``Yes, you do still have some of the stiffness about you, and there are some sharp edges that\pagebreak\ could do with softening.''
+
+``Softening?''
+
+``Yes. It is mostly a matter of appearance and affect, though. You should not blunt your wit or intellect, just your tone and features.''
+
+True Name frowned. ``I am not sure what you mean by blunting or softening, though.''
+
+Praiseworthy took her gently by the elbow and started walking through the grass. They had decided to meet on a portion of Michelle's dandelion-ridden sim, far away from their root instance, but in a place that was still familiar to both.
+
+``Take your walk, for instance. Even now, as we are just out for a stroll, you walk with purpose. Your shoulders move too much. Remember, if you keep them pointed straight ahead and shift the rolling motion to your hips, it will lead to others seeing more feminine aspects in you.''
+
+She tried to keep her shoulders still as they walked, immediately feeling a slight strain in her hips.
+
+Praiseworthy laughed. ``You do not need to keep them level to the ground, just perpendicular to the direction you are walking in. But here, no need to practice too hard. Fork, holding in your mind a pelvis just a hair wider than your own, but keeping your hips the same width. It will mean slimming down a little.''
+
+``I can do that?''
+
+``Of course. Zeke dreamed some algorithmic magic behind the scenes. You can fork yourself into most anything that can be consensually held in the mind.''
+
+True Name nodded warily, holding this new image of herself in her mind.
+
+``Perfect,'' Praiseworthy said, moving to take this new fork by the elbow and nodding to the original instance of the skunk. ``Now you quit. No need to incur a charge. Michelle, no need to accept further memories from us for the day.''
+
+The skunks tilted their heads in unison.
+
+``Michelle will be getting a pile of memories, if she wants, as I will have you fork a few more times yet. I have been letting her know when she can ignore further merges, as I have done this quite often. I believe they are working on a way to attach a priority to merges, or even a suggestion not to accept the memories.''
+
+The first True Name nodded, then disappeared.
+
+True Name felt down her flanks, taking a few more steps and finding it far easier to walk casually and still keep her shoulders pointed forward. She nodded approvingly. ``Excellent. What other suggestions do you have?''
+
+``For your role, you will need to carefully balance cute, attractive, and competent. If you go too far towards cute, then it will be difficult for you to be taken seriously. The same if you go too far attractive because you will be just a pretty face. If you go too far competent, you will be seen as dour and unpleasant.''
+
+Praiseworthy stopped her and turned her gently to look at her face.
+
+``Now, first, your eyes will need to be just a hair larger, your ears slightly rounder, your cheeks fuller, and you will need fewer but longer whiskers. Can you hold those in your mind?''
+
+She closed her eyes, picturing what she knew of herself in her mind, and forked.
+
+``Goodness.''
+
+She opened her eyes again to look at the fork, immediately laughing and shaking her head.
+
+``Am I cute?'' the new skunk asked.
+
+``Adorable, but that is not quite the direction we want to go. You look closer to a teddy bear.''
+
+She rolled her eyes, then quit.
+
+``Let us try one at a time. You will need to work fairly quickly to avoid the hit in reputation. Fork once, and then that fork will continue to look as you do now, while you work progressively on each of those steps.'' When True Name did so, Praiseworthy nodded. ``First, rounder ears.''
+
+The new fork perked up when her down-tree instance forked and quit, the new instance having slightly rounder ears. She nodded, smiling.
+
+``Excellent. Now the whiskers. Great. Cheeks? And\ldots eyes. Fantastic.'' Praiseworthy smiled after all the forking had been completed, then nodded to the first of the new instances, who quit.
+
+The option for a rush of memories was provided to True Name, who, on a whim, accepted it, now remembering what it had looked like from the outside as her face had grown\ldots well, cuter. It had worked well.
+
+The two skunks worked through a short laundry list of changes. True Name grew a few centimeters taller, her shoulders became the slightest bit flatter without getting broader, her back straighter.
+
+One last time, she forked to get a good look at herself to compare with what she remembered from before the process.
+
+She was, indeed, cuter, but this was tempered by a more conventionally attractive body type, staying shy of being both adorable and overtly attractive. This somehow combined into a look that was more professional. It made her look, she realized, like a public figure.
+
+``Oh, this is delightful.''
+
+Praiseworthy beamed. ``I am glad that you enjoy.''
+
+They worked next on how to better her affect. Smile more earnestly, laugh more easily, transition from those expressions to stern or confident or pitying. There were a few more forks as they worked on ways to soften True Name's voice, pitching it just a little lower, rounding some of the vowels, practicing elocution. With each fork, she found that the lessons stuck more firmly. Perhaps what was in her mind before became more cemented in place.
+
+Finally, Praiseworthy had True Name practice forking into a Michelle-form for situations where a skunk would be out of place, and then they worked on perfecting that version of her, as well. It was surprising, at first, that she could even make so great a change with one fork, but then, she remembered precisely what it had felt like to be Michelle, just as she remembered what it felt like to be Sasha.
+
+Nearly two hours later, when the practice and modifications had wrapped up, the two skunks sat at the top of a low raise in the landscape, and True Name discussed the other reason that she had sought out Praiseworthy.
+
+``I need help in spreading ideas. I know that you have settled back into acting and directing, but I do not have the time or energy to guide emotions and reactions to news while still working on this political angle.'' She plucked a few blades of grass, rolling them into little balls between fingerpads. ``I know that propaganda is not the same thing as theater, but would you be willing--''
+
+``Yes!'' Praiseworthy laughed. ``Of course I would be willing to help. There is more than a little propagandizing in trying to get actors to do their fucking jobs, even when the actors are yourself. What precisely do you need? Speeches? Words whispered here and there? Posters?''
+
+True Name laughed and shook her head. ``Not quite the answer that I was expecting, but yes. Speeches and letters specifically. Some geared toward phys-side, some toward the Council, and probably a few towards other groups sys-side. I would not turn down a few words whispered here and there, though that will take some strategizing. There will be an instance of Jonas who will be working with you in shaping sentiment, as well.''
+
+``I will look forward to it, then.''
+
+They sat for a while in the sun, each looking out into the fields. At one point, Praiseworthy took off her glasses and set them on the bridge of True Name's muzzle, shook her head, and slid them into a jacket pocket.
+
+It was good to be around oneself, True Name realized. There was none of the pressure involved with interacting with others, none of the careful maneuvering required when talking with Jonas. They could just sit there, side by side, and understand that there was nothing between them that the other did not also, at least to some extent, understand.
+
+``Have you talked to many others in the clade?'' Praiseworthy asked.
+
+She shook her head. ``Here and there. I have a meeting scheduled with Life Breeds Life, but that is about it. You?''
+
+``You were the last I had yet to speak with. It is interesting to see how we have each decided to focus on different areas. You dove hard into the political angle. I tried to get back to theatre, but enough of that desire remained in me that your propaganda job sounds fun. Life Breeds Life is quite strange. He has been focusing--''
+
+``He?''
+
+Praiseworthy shrugged. ``I guess. He has been focusing on historical stuff. Documenting this and that, digging into old things. I have no idea where that came from. Loss For Images is writing these days. May One Day is fiddling with reputation markets---or at least as much as Debarre will let her---and last I heard, Hammered Silver has just been either relaxing here with Michelle or sim-hopping.''
+
+``How is she, anyway?''
+
+``Michelle?'' Praiseworthy frowned, ears tilting back. ``Much the same. I think the last of her energy went into us, and she is\ldots I do not know. Empty? She spends a lot of time sleeping, a lot of time sitting and thinking. She came to a play, but left partway through. She is still of two minds.''
+
+``And she still has not explained why she never fixed it?''
+
+The skunk shook her head.
+
+``Any guesses?''
+
+``Nothing solid.''
+
+True Name nodded and turned her gaze back to the rolling plain. So much grass. So many dandelions. ``There is a time and a place for dwelling in memory,'' she said. ``But Michelle does nothing else. It is no wonder she is stuck. When\ldots when ey died, I think she began to as well. When she she dumped the last of herself into the Ode, she sealed the deal.''
+
+Praiseworthy said nothing.
+
+``She is dead, I think. There is no more life in her. There is nothing to be done but let her enjoy that death as long as she would like. I do not expect that she will come back.''
+
+The other skunk drew her knees to her chest and folded her arms across them. Uncomfortable on the tail, but the pensive mood seemed to demand it. ``I think you may be right in that. Let her do what makes herself happy while her shade remains.''
+
+``I wonder if she knows it, yet,'' True Name said, then let silence fall again. The two sat together, watching as afternoon slid carefully into evening.

toledot/content/secession/sys/True-Name/005.tex

@@ -0,0 +1,130 @@
+\hypertarget{true-name-2124}{%
+\chapter{True Name — 2124}\label{true-name-2124}}
+
+The next time the Council of Eight met was nearly two weeks after True Name's discussion with Praiseworthy, thanks to a small, artificial delay suggested by the other skunk in order to see how well she could manage buttering up those who needed buttering up, meet with Ir Jonas, and let True Name get used to her new form, her new expressiveness.
+
+When Jonas Prime first saw her after that meeting, he had sat up straight from where he had been lounging on his apartment's couch, pointed his finger at her, and all but shouted, ``Perfect! I don't know what you did or how, but it's fucking perfect.''
+
+She had laughed, given a bow, and stood up straighter once more. ``Glad you approve. I figured if I am going to continue not being a politician, I really ought to look the part.''
+
+``I'm surprised you didn't work it in bit by bit, but it'll go over well.''
+
+It did, thankfully. When she met with a few of the council members---Debarre and Zeke, thankfully---in order to request the delay on the meeting, they had both complimented her on her looks. She explained it away as wanting try looking `a little less dumpy', a calculated phrase which had gotten a laugh out of Zeke.
+
+But now, the time had come to actually have the council meeting, which was taking place on a set of benches set alongside the edge of a well manicured pond. The S-R Bloc trio showed up in high-collared coats, hats, and sun-glasses.
+
+``This is utterly ridiculous,'' Jonas said. ``I feel like we're about to start meeting sleeper agents from foreign powers to discuss what intel we've picked up in the last month.''
+
+One of the Russians, in a rare sign of outward emotion, grinned broadly. ``I thought you of all people would enjoy, Jonas.''
+
+``Oh, don't get me wrong, I love it, but it's not exactly subtle.''
+
+``We'll just say that we're in the middle of a spy reenactment.''
+
+Debarre laughed. ``Well, I'm for it. All we're missing is the ducks and a bag of breadcrumbs to feed them.''
+
+``This can be arranged,'' another of the S-R Bloc trio said.
+
+``Another time, perhaps. We can play out the full scene.''
+
+``Maybe we can walk and talk for once.'' True Name gestured down the trail, palm up and hand relaxed as Praiseworthy had instructed---\emph{you do not want to seem stiff, but rather like you are suggesting that you would like to get on with something that was already their idea in the first place.}
+
+It worked well, as the whole council turned on cue and began to walk slowly down the trail. Jonas caught her eye and gave her a wink while the cone of silence settled into place and the meeting began.
+
+``What news on the markets?''
+
+``Nothing particularly new there. We're still tuning the cost of sims, but the model for forking seems to be working well. We got the chance to test it during a recent hardware upgrade.''
+
+``How about sensorium messages?''
+
+``Proposal was accepted, and there's an alpha in place. Want to try?''
+
+``Sure, why n-- Holy shit! Please don't do that again.''
+
+And on and on.
+
+They had made it about halfway around the pond before the discussion turned to True Name and Jonas.
+
+``Glad to hear the launch is a go. I'm curious to see if there will be any interruptions in service meanwhile.''
+
+Jonas shook his head, ``Should be smooth sailing. Worst case, we shut down for a few hours or days, and then come back online, in which case we won't even notice a thing in here.''
+
+``And the bill sounds like it's going well, too,'' Debarre said. ``I'm actually surprised that it isn't a foregone conclusion, too. From what I've been hearing, there's essentially total agreement on the DDR, and most of the governments seem on-board now, too.''
+
+It was True Name's turn to nod, and she slid through the sentence smoothly, letting the topic flow into the conversation as gently as Ir Jonas and Praiseworthy had suggested. She just needed to trust that the work had been done, trust in her own abilities. ``Yes, it has almost unanimously been accepted, and all we are really waiting on right now is for them to decide whether or not we can be trusted to govern ourselves.''
+
+The reaction was precisely what she had hoped: almost nothing at all. There were some nodding of heads, and user11824 just shrugged, as he ususally did.
+
+\emph{Excellent, it is already in their minds,} she thought. \emph{Just need to keep going.}
+
+Aloud, she said, ``We got lucky with our DDR junkie friend, actually. It looks like he has been tapped to help draft the secession amendment that will be added to the bill, though I do not predict any trouble with that passing, either.''
+
+Zeke rumbled with a laugh. ``They're actually calling it `secession' now? How delightful.''
+
+True Name grinned, watching Jonas laugh along with the bundle of rags. \emph{I must find a way to thank Praiseworthy. That could not have gone better.}
+
+``Hey, if it gets us what we need, then they can call it what they want,'' Jonas said. ``We can govern ourselves, they can govern themselves, and then all these rights arguments become a moot point. The only sticking point seems to be some portions of the S-R Bloc holding onto the idea of dual citizenship.''
+
+The trio nodded in unison. ``We will be working on that.''
+
+``Hell,'' True Name mused. ``We could probably even make a spectacle out of it. If it is to become something important to the entirety of the System, might as well make it a holiday.''
+
+``We can even get out the fireworks!'' Debarre laughed, the weasel bouncing ahead a few steps to turn and walk backwards in front of the rest of the group. ``No need to worry about wildfires or anything.''
+
+True Name laughed. ``When was the last time you even saw fireworks?''
+
+``Oh, I've never seen them. You were lucky, you had a big fuck-off lake you could launch them off of. It was just farms and orchards around us, so they were illegal.''
+
+The skunk smiled inwardly. That the topic of secession had been accepted at face value and slid so easily into joking and chatter was the best she could have hoped for. Even Jonas looked happy.
+
+After to-do items had been handed out and the meeting wound down, Jonas waved to the group and disappeared from the sim. That left True Name five minutes to walk and talk with the others before she would meet up with him, so she spent a few just walking alongside Debarre, talking about the fireworks that she had watched with their mutual friend during high school, the author of the ode from which she drew her name.
+
+Then she waved her goodbyes as well, and stepped from the spy-park sim to a cafe, the very same one that Michelle/Sasha had visited before she had forked that first time.
+
+``Mocha, right?'' Jonas said, handing her a drink and leading her out to a rickety table on the sidewalk, already ensconced in another silent bubble.
+
+``Thank you, yes. Perhaps champagne would be better.''
+
+He laughed and fell into the chair opposite her, a motion that somehow managed to ride the border between ungainly and endearing. ``We'll get stinking drunk when the bill passes, don't worry. We'll get all of you and all of me together and bust out the champagne, cocaine, and condoms.''
+
+``Do not even start,'' she said, laughing. ``I do not sleep with slimy politicians.''
+
+``You know, you're going to have to drop that act at some point. You have a speech writer, a styling team, a propagandist--''
+
+``They are all the same instance.''
+
+``--and a team of analysts working on both the sys-side and phys-side angles. You, my dear, are one hundred percent a politician now.''
+
+``Alright, fine. Just do not tell anyone, okay?''
+
+``Lips are sealed.''
+
+She sipped at her mocha and leaned back in the chair, looking out onto the street, people both real and imaginary milling along the sidewalks. ``I was thinking today that we may actually be the only politicians on the council.''
+
+``How do you figure?''
+
+``Well, Debarre is a friend. A smart one, but I think he mostly got the position by virtue of being associated with me and the lost. The S-R Bloc three are spooks who won't even tell us their names. Zeke is a true-believer; good at what he does but without the faintest thought for how it goes over. user11824 is the opposite. He wears his anonymity like a brand, but does not actually do much.''
+
+``And then there's us,'' Jonas said, nodding. ``The ex-WF rep and whatever the hell you are.''
+
+``I am just me,'' True Name mused. ``I do not know what that is, precisely, but I am just me. I am no longer Michelle, not by a long shot. I maintain none of that constant state of distraction, none her meekness, and very little of her surplus of empathy. I have lost who she was to become myself.''
+
+Jonas nodded. ``For the better, I'd say.''
+
+``Do you think she was not a good council member?''
+
+``Oh, she was fine. Good ideas. Smart. What she lacked was direction, which you make up in spades.''
+
+``I am happy to hear that. Truly.'' True Name raised her paper coffee cup in a toast to him. ``There are some within the clade who have done the opposite, I am told. Praiseworthy has talked to them all, which is very her. Memory Is A Mirror Of Hammered Silver has hardly left Michelle's sim in weeks. She wound up with all of the empathy that I set aside. I have my fair share, but only that. I have moved past that surfeit as a point of pride.''
+
+Jonas shrugged. ``At least someone's keeping Michelle company.''
+
+True Name said nothing, simply returning to watching the movement of the shoppers.
+
+``What's next on your list, fuzzy?''
+
+``If you call me `fuzzy' again, I will dump this coffee over your head and rub it into your perfect fucking hair.''
+
+He laughed.
+
+``What is next? Probably keeping in touch with Yared and helping him draft the amendment. I am sure that most of it will be councilor Demma's work, but that he has been given at least partial responsibility means that we will---must---have a hand in it as well.''

toledot/content/secession/sys/True-Name/006.tex

@@ -0,0 +1,130 @@
+\hypertarget{true-name-2124}{%
+\chapter{True Name — 2124}\label{true-name-2124}}
+
+True Name was early to her meeting, and that, she figured was okay. On a whim, she had picked, the same pub that she had met Jonas in some time back, the one that reminded her of The Crown Pub from years ago, with the flat beer and the uncomfortable booths. She figured that Debarre, of all people, would appreciate this.
+
+She ordered herself one of those beers that she loved to hate, sat down in a corner booth with a commanding view of the entrance, tail flopped over the edge, and waited.
+
+While she waited, she thought about all of the different reasons that Debarre might have asked to meet. There was always the possibility that the weasel had figured out just how deep she and Jonas had gotten in their work, though she suspected that that was not the case. Debarre was smart, yes, but political adroitness was not his strong suit. That had been the root of the worry---shared by him---that he had been let onto the council merely by his proximity to Michelle and connection with the lost, with AwDae.
+
+It could also be that he had further questions about why it was that Michelle had chosen the Ode as a clade scheme, and that perhaps he wanted to discuss why it was that all of the clade seemed so averse to mentioning the author of the poem.
+
+And, as she hoped, he could simply just want to hang out. Spend time together like friends, like they used to.
+
+With that in mind, she focused on composing herself into a state of friendly alertness, so that when the weasel walked into the pub and spotted her in the corner, she would be primed to guide him toward that last possibility, even if he had come expecting the first two.
+
+She watched him step inside, look around, and immediately laugh. After picking up a cider at the bar, he made his way over to the booth she had picked and plopped down across from her.
+
+``Cheeky choice,'' he said, grinning.
+
+True Name grinned, shrugged. ``What can I say? I was feeling nostalgic for terrible beer.''
+
+``Cheers to that.'' He lifted his glass to hers, clinked the rims, and took a long sip. ``So, how've you been, skunk?''
+
+Small talk was not a guarantee that this was simply a social visit, but given the tone of his voice, she doubted that anything too heavy was on the table.
+
+``Pretty good, actually.'' She smiled. ``Things are going well on the legislative front, phys-side, which is good. It makes my job easier. Who knows, may even take a vacation.''
+
+``Oh man, a vacation sounds good, though God knows what I'd do. Probably just sit on my tail all day and get fat on the greasiest food I can find.''
+
+``Feeling the workload, then?''
+
+He shrugged. ``Not particularly, no. It's just that I'm starting to wonder just how cut out for politics I really am. I haven't the faintest idea on how to get people to do things without sounding like I'm bullying them, and I'm not going to put all the work into it that you have. You and yours, I mean.''
+
+``Yeah, it is no small amount of effort,'' the skunk said. ``But it will be worth it in the end, I think. Plus, I figure that once we secede and the launch goes off successfully, we can probably just sit back and let things run themselves. No one has managed to cause any problems that cannot be solved by them simply having the fistfight that they so desperately crave.''
+
+Debarre laughed and shook his head. ``You gotten in any of those lately?''
+
+``Thankfully not,'' she said, grinning toothily. ``I do not expect to, though.''
+
+They drank a moment in silence, each of them peering around the pub, each thinking their thoughts.
+
+``How are you, Debarre?'' True Name finally asked. ``Aside from work, I mean. I know that we have not had much of a chance to just sit and talk, recently.''
+
+The weasel doodled lazily on the tabletop with a claw. ``For all my bitching, I'm doing alright, actually. That's why I wanted to meet, though. Just catch up.''
+
+True Name smiled. \emph{Perfect.}
+
+``You know,'' he said. ``I was thinking about Cicero a few days back, and how, after he hung himself, I thought that the grief would never end. Like, I thought that I had been completely redefined from `Debarre the weasel' to `Debarre who grieves', and that's just who I was from then on out.''
+
+She hid a sudden surge of emotion behind a sip of her flat beer, nodding. ``It was hard. Both of those losses were hard.''
+
+Debarre nodded. After the reference to both losses, he seemed on guard, or ready to jump out of the booth at a moment's notice.
+
+``I am sorry that I snapped at you a while back,'' she said, reaching out to pat at the paw that had been poking absently at the grime on the tabletop. ``That is a name that I would like to keep close to my heart and prefer not to say out loud. Also, given the political implications of em defecting to the S-R Bloc, it still feels risky. The spooks \emph{definitely} should not hear it.''
+
+``I get that,'' the weasel said. He had relaxed, but not all the way.
+
+``And I think that I understand what you are getting at,'' she continued, turning her default smile into something wistful, something sad. ``I am as at risk of letting grief define me as\pagebreak\ anyone, but I am still doing my best to memorialize rather than languish.''
+
+``That's good, at least,'' he said, finally smiling back to her. ``I've been a bit worried about that, if I'm honest, but I trust you. The shit you've been pulling off lately with the council is honestly impressive, True Name. You and all your clade. I'm doing my best to understand you, sure, but I promise that's out of awe rather than fear.''
+
+She laughed, raising her glass to him. ``Well, thank you. I am glad that Sasha was able to take a step back and get the rest that she so richly deserves, just as I am glad that she left me with my own \emph{raison d'etre}. I \emph{like} all of the shit that I have been pulling off. It feels good to accomplish stuff.''
+
+``Good! That's good to hear. It's sorta what I'd picked up on, too. I'm not sure that I was doubting you before, necessarily, but having watched you these past few weeks, I dunno.'' He grinned and finally returned the patting gesture in turn. ``I get it, now. You're not Sasha, that's for sure, but you're not \emph{not} her, and I see all of the best things I liked about her in you and the few others in the Ode clade that I've met.''
+
+They beamed at each other, all bristled whiskers and perked-up ears.
+
+The conversation wound around for a while longer, with talk of plans and memories, likes and dislikes, gossip and news. True Name allowed herself to earnestly enjoy the afternoon, now that any concerns that she might have had about the meeting had been assuaged. It gave her space to loosen the reigns she had placed on empathy around Jonas, to bask in simpatico with true friends.
+
+Eventually, they made their goodbyes and she left the sim, allowing herself to sober up in the process in order to make the next meeting on her agenda.
+
+For some reason that she couldn't fathom, Life Breeds Life But Death Must Now Be Chosen had chosen to incarnate himself as a scholarly gentlemen, somewhere between respectable and nerdy. It was a good look, she thought, but what train of thoughts had led him to head down that route from Michelle evaded her.
+
+After a pleasant greeting in the lobby of the library, they wound their way up the spiral staircases to the law section, three levels up. There was no particular reason that they needed to head there, other than the fact that it was liable to be fairly empty---few had reason to read up on phys-side laws, here---and would still be a comfortable place for them to walk and talk.
+
+``So,'' Life Breeds Life said, once pleasantries were out of the way and the cone of silence had been set up. ``Why did you want to meet today?''
+
+``During discussions with Praiseworthy and Ir Jonas, I started to realize that there were some steps that I might need to take when it comes to the historical view of the clade. There is already the forceful de-emphasizing of AwDae's name, thanks to Praiseworthy. She thought it a good hook, and it has already proven its utility. None of us want it out in the open, anyway. I guess, given your interest in history and memory, you seemed like the most likely to be interested in helping continue that effort.''
+
+He grinned. ``You guess correctly. I have been considering some aspects of that, as it is. Before I go off on that, however, I would like to hear your ideas.''
+
+True Name nodded, lazily brushing fingerpads over the spines of law books and case files. ``Firstly, there are some aspects of the clade that I would like to remain within the clade. The Name is an obvious example, but I would also like to keep the impact that we have had within the Council minimized to a level more believable for Michelle's initially stated goal.''
+
+``To confirm,'' he said, looking thoughtful. ``You want to ensure that it appears that each of us did a tenth of the work that she was doing previously and that our voice was only as loud as any other council-member's. Correct?''
+
+She nodded.
+
+``That should be doable.''
+
+``It will require a bit of fudging, at least for myself, as to how many instances actually exist for the clade. I believe that it would reflect poorly on us to say that we were initially ten, and then for someone to dig up that I had already forked three or four times less than a year after Michelle's decision.''
+
+His laugh was kind. ``Oh, good. I am glad that I am not the only one.''
+
+``Not by a long shot,'' True Name said. ``It seemed like a good thing to downplay.''
+
+``Yes, it is, come to think of it. There are enough concerns about capacity as is. It might seem as though we were already aiming to test that so early on.''
+
+``Mmhm. The second thing that I was thinking was more of a question for you.''
+
+Life Breeds Life nodded.
+
+``How far in the future do you think we should be considering these changes?''
+
+The answer was immediate. ``Centuries.''
+
+True Name frowned. ``Really?''
+
+``Yes. There are some that we can do right away, but those steps are more in Praiseworthy's court: downplay the number of instances, minimizing our perceived role on the Council, \emph{et cetera.} The aspects that are in my jurisdiction, however, are ones that will take years and decades to form. Histories written after the fact bear the weight of having undergone analysis, the shifting of public knowledge---at least, what they think they know---takes place over months and years. Time is on our side, though, as you well know.''
+
+``Of course.''
+
+``That is not to say that I will not start right away, of course,'' he said, laughing.
+
+``Oh, I do not doubt you will.'' She grinned. ``What were your thoughts, though? You mentioned having some changes that you would like addressed as well.''
+
+``Yes. I would like to eventually downplay the role of the Council of Eight in history to the point where those sys-side simply think of those who helped out in the early days as founders, dreamers, and idealists.''
+
+True Name stopped in the aisle, letting Life Breeds Life step ahead and turn to face her. ``You would like the System to forget that there was a council?''
+
+``It is a way to build a mythos and identity, yes. It allows us to use the words `freedom' and `secession' and so on in a collective sense, as though these were the decisions of all, rather than a few. It will instill a sense of patriotism, if one could call it such a thing, for being sys-side, which will in turn reduce the connections that many feel to phys-side.'' He smiled, tugging a book from the shelf at random and flipping through the pages. ``This will not happen for this generation. Nor, likely, the next. The goal for future generations, though is to ensure that they feel that the System is a place to live rather than a place where they wound up, or a place that they uploaded to simply because it was convenient or necessary, or even a place that they uploaded to simply for the way life works here, whether it be immortality or the sheer hedonistic joy of it.''
+
+The skunk watched the pages flip beneath Life Breeds Life's fingers and thought. To downplay the council would be to minimize the work of years, of almost a decade. It might rankle for the other members, but she was pleasantly surprised at how comfortable an idea it was. It would gain her and Jonas much needed room to maneuver.
+
+Eventually she nodded, saying, ``That makes sense, yes. If the concept of the Council disappears into foggy memories and untrustworthy histories, then any attempts to lead again will seem out of place, too. It will give Jonas and I more latitude to continue working long term.''
+
+``Precisely.'' He replaced the book on the shelf. ``Down the line, too, I am considering suggesting that we say that we uploaded after Secession. Say in the thirties. Not far enough to be an obvious lie, but enough distance from it to give us the space to act as we must now so that we can act as we will later.''
+
+True Name felt the smile grow on her face, earnest and excited. ``Excellent. Excellent thinking. Keep me up to date as you go, though I do not expect the updates to come all that quickly.''
+
+Life Breeds Life laughed. ``Of course not. If we are to think long term, we must think in terms of decades to work in centuries. If we are lucky, we must think in terms of centuries to work in millennia. We have plenty of time.''

toledot/content/secession/sys/True-Name/007.tex

@@ -0,0 +1,94 @@
+\hypertarget{true-name-2124}{%
+\chapter{True Name — 2124}\label{true-name-2124}}
+
+The Only Time I Know My True Name Is When I Dream walked.
+
+She walked from sim to sim, finding intricate ways to build up a sign, a sigil from them. Finding ways for disparate streets to connect, finding alleyways to open into deer paths, finding breathlessly exposed parks that, when a corner was turned around a tree or perhaps a low hill, might open out again into the lobbies of libraries, the shelves of which could become a hedge maze.
+
+Perhaps there was more to the sims that she walked, but she did not notice. As soon as she felt herself drawn to any one particular place, any one particular feature of any one particular sim, as soon as she began to feel anchored, she left. All of the things that people---her people---built passed beneath her feet, passed before her eyes.
+
+Some part of her was overflowing in some indefinable way, and so she walked.
+
+And all the time, her thoughts soared above her, watching her path, the steps she took. They watched all of her left turns. They viewed the sigil that her walking drew and imbued in it new meaning.
+
+A thought: \emph{What dire emotional need caused one to build an office building in a place of no corporations?}
+
+She stepped into that office building from the dry bed of a river, walked up two flights of stairs, and into a floor of empty cubicles. She turned at random, moving through the rows, and sat down at one of the desks and thought a while.
+
+A thought: \emph{Why is the first instinct upon creating a wholly blank medium such as this to build in the nature we remember?}
+
+She stepped from the cubicle and turned left, out into a rolling, open field, dotted throughout with dandelions. She bent down and picked one, twirling it between finger and thumb, then tucking it behind her ear where the yellow could shine bright amidst the black fur there.
+
+She could almost feel em, sometimes, as part of the very fabric of existence within the System. Almost. A dream of a dream of her friend, always just out of reach.
+
+A thought: \emph{Why do we drag our memories around with us like luggage?}
+
+So, she walked, and as she walked, she strove to draw her thoughts in the other direction. She strove to draw them forward, away from the past, so that she could consider the future.
+
+What would this place look like after seceding from the rest of the world? What would a land---if such could be said of the System---of those who had already seceded from the rest of humanity look like? How many would notice and rejoice? How many would notice and hate every second of it? How many would notice and not care, and how many would not even know that it had happened? That it had even been on the table?
+
+Would they build differently? Perhaps they would stop bringing along with them the structures of their pasts. Perhaps there would be fewer office buildings and more cabins in the woods. More idyllic houses. More mountain landscapes and main streets of cute towns with hole-in-the-wall restaurants that no one knew about and yet which served the best curry, the best hot dog, the best cupcakes that one could possibly imagine.
+
+Would they live differently, love differently? Perhaps they would still pair up as always they had. Maybe, when they picked up feelings for someone, they would fork to have a separate relationship with them as well. Maybe collectives of families would live together as they always had, finding comfort as much in each other as in their chosen relatives. Maybe a taboo would grow around having a relationship with oneself, of forked instances living together and loving each other. Would that be narcissism forever, or only before individuation? Would it be incest? Masturbation? She did not know, she did not know.
+
+Would they choose life? Choose death? Would they pray?
+
+She knew that it would happen, of course. Secession. She shared none of Yared's dread, his pessimism. This was fine. She was the politician, he was the puppet. She saw the big picture laid out before her in her sign, her sigil. He would handle the pessimism, her the optimism.
+
+No, not optimism; surety.
+
+The bill would pass, the System would secede, the station launch would go off without a hitch. The bill could not but pass, the System was bound to secede, and the station launch was as safe as could be.
+
+Yared would upload, or he would not.
+
+The DDR would care, or it would not.
+
+Earth would dream of them, up there on the System, or it would not.
+
+The only thing, the only important thing, was to ensure continuity. A continuity borne of safety, of stability, and of an intense desire not to let the System come to harm. It had to be desired, prized, cherished even by all those who stayed behind.
+
+As she ruminated on this, the need to be desired as a form of stability, a memory bubbled up to the surface, spun around once, twice, and then came into focus.
+
+A memory: \emph{``Two thirds of our power structure still thinks child restrictions are a good enough idea that those laws have bled into Russia, too.''}
+
+Who had said that? One of the three, doubtless. They were so interchangeable.
+
+She stepped into her apartment from wherever her thoughts had taken her, and she forked off a new instance, relying on that subtle trick that Jonas had taught her, letting her reputation stay close to where it had been.
+
+``I suppose that makes me Do I Know God After The End Waking.''
+
+She nodded.
+
+``Someone had to wind up with the name with a typo in it, alas.'' The other skunk smirked.
+
+``Everyone gets something, yes,'' True Name said, plucking the duplicated dandelion from behind End Waking's ear and adding it to the one already behind hers. Two suns amidst black fur. ``Let us start with some differences. I do not want you looking too much like me, so that we can work separately.''
+
+End Waking nodded, thought for a moment, and then forked several times in quick succession to lead to greater and greater differences, until a new Odist stood before her, unique in so many ways. Masculine, kind-faced, dressed in a business-casual outfit that retained both the competency and friendliness that Praiseworthy had helped her attain.
+
+``If you think this is acceptable, we can start strategizing.''
+
+True Name nodded, and the two skunks walked to her office.
+
+``So, if we are to follow the timescale that Life Breeds Life suggests, what are some good milestones that we can set for ourselves?''
+
+``I was thinking that it would be nice to have uploading incentivized within fifty years. That would mean that by the hundredth anniversary of Secession, we would primarily be seeing uploads who knew nothing but that idea.''
+
+End Waking nodded. ``Probably best to begin as early as possible, yes, at least in terms of planning. I think that ensuring that the failure rate is below one percent within ten years would be good first step, followed by reducing the cost of upload by half ten years after, then half again in another decade. That gives us twenty years to work with when it comes to getting to a point of incentivization.''
+
+``Alright, that sounds good. I will leave you to it, for the most part. I do not expect that there will be any news for another few years.''
+
+The other skunk bowed. ``Of course.''
+
+``And, End Waking, a favor.'' When he nodded, she continued, ``There are inquisitive minds. Always are. We already have Life Breeds Life helping on that front, but while you were talking through the timeline, I realized that it would be best if this conversation, these plans, did not start, as far as anyone but you and me are concerned, until perhaps the 2150s.''
+
+He tilted his head. ``How come?''
+
+True Name smiled faintly. ``I always find it surprising just how quickly one can deviate from one's down-tree instance after all that forking.''
+
+``Of course. You have been thinking your thoughts while I have my own.''
+
+``Yes. Well, we are quickly getting to the point where our efforts both sys- and phys-side happening all at once are reaching levels that might be considered uncomfortable in retrospect. Life Breeds Life is working on this already. If we can minimize our visible impact, then we should do so. Same date for the Council, same date for Jonas, same date for other Odists.''
+
+``Mm, probably a good idea. I forked in 2143, then.''
+
+``2143. Got it.'' True Name smiled. ``Thank you for this. I think it will work out quite well for us in the end.''

toledot/content/secession/sys/True-Name/008.tex

@@ -0,0 +1,134 @@
+\hypertarget{true-name-2125}{%
+\chapter{True Name — 2125}\label{true-name-2125}}
+
+The Council of Eight met before the news of the secession amendment passing was published in the perisystem news feeds for those who tracked such information sys-side. They agreed, without even needing to talk about it, that it would be nice to have a small celebration of success before everyone was doing it. Something comfortable, cheerful, with friends.
+
+To that end, they met at Debarre's house, a low, rambling house plugged squarely into the side of a hill, walk-out basement looking out over a wooded lawn. The neighborhood had several such houses, widely spaced, where a few of Debarre's friends that he'd met both on and off the System had set up a comfortable living, enough space to be alone, enough friends to make it worthwhile.
+
+The plus-side of the house was that the patio for the walk-out basement was beneath an overhanging deck, protecting the occupants from the slow but steady snowfall.
+
+``I don't understand why you had to make it cold,'' user11824 grumbled.
+
+``It's New Years day, dude.'' Debarre laughed. ``It's supposed to be cold.''
+
+``Fucking Americans, I swear to God. I'm from New Zealand. New Years is not cold.''
+
+The wandering discussion took place around a chiminea radiating warmth. An indentation had been made in the side of the clay body of the fireplace into which a kettle had been placed, mulled wine slowly simmering. True Name found it immensely enjoyable. It reminded her quite a bit of winters with her grandparents on the east coast. Made sense, of course, given where Debarre was originally from.
+
+``I like it,'' Zeke rumbled. ``I only ever got to see snow once, and that was in Yakutsk when I was uploading.''
+
+The three S-R Bloc goons laughed. ``There's not that much snow out there,'' one of them said. ``But I'm glad you got to see it at least once.''
+
+The bundle of rags nodded appreciatively, extending a pseudopod of an arm to ladle more of the wine into his mug.
+
+``Where's Jonas?'' Debarre asked True Name.
+
+``Running late, I guess. I am not his keeper.''
+
+``I know, I just figured since--'' He was interrupted by a muffled doorbell as someone entered the sim, followed by Jonas (Ar Jonas, True Name guessed) ambling around the side of the house to join them.
+
+``\emph{Et voilà,}'' she said, grinning.
+
+``What?'' Jonas laughed. ``What'd I do?''
+
+``You were late, Debarre was worried, I was bored,'' user11824 drawled.
+
+``Well, sorry about that. Just checking in with our contact phys-side. He's depressed.''
+
+Zeke began ladling a cup of the heated wine for Jonas. ``Why was he depressed. It passed, didn't it?''
+
+``Yeah, well, apparently he's getting pressure from the NEAC government. They're happy enough about the bill passing, but they want to control his DDR participation going forward. He's just mopey.''
+
+Debarre growled quietly, tail bristling out. ``The DDR was a fucking mistake, anyway.''
+
+``Yes,'' True Name said. ``But it got us this, at least, and now we do not need to worry about it again.''
+
+Debarre shrugged.
+
+Zeke asked, ``So when does it all come into effect?''
+
+``The 21st, same day as the launch,'' Jonas said. ``We shouldn't notice anything except maybe a jump in systime if there's any downtime getting us set up.''
+
+``What's the chance of that happening?''
+
+``Around five percent.''
+
+``Chance of data loss?''
+
+``Less than a tenth of a percent.''
+
+``And catastrophic failure?''
+
+Jonas grinned. ``There were a lot of zeroes before that six, I can tell you that. I didn't count them.''
+
+True Name added, ``It would have to require not only the launch going wrong, but the backup System failing, and from what our friends say, it is far away from the launch site.''
+
+``In the North, yes. Launch site is in Western China.''
+
+Zeke nodded, sipped from his wine, and rasped, ``Best we can hope for, then.''
+
+user11824 shrugged. ``It'd be a boring as hell end. Are we going to have a big celebration or anything?''
+
+``I do not see why not,'' True Name said. ``We can get a few of the sims to set up fireworks and we can spread the word through perisystem news.''
+
+``We can celebrate now, too,'' Debarre said, grinning. ``I went through all this fucking trouble and we're talking shop. Drink your wine, warm your hands by the fire, \emph{literally} anything but more shop talk.''
+
+And so they did. They talked, they stayed warm around the chiminea, and they drank. Debarre was the first to get truly drunk, breaking into Auld Lang Syne. When no one joined in, the weasel laughed and danced around the ring of council-members, calling them all boring, which got a grin out of even user11824.
+
+As the evening wore on and, one by one, the rest of the council joined Debarre in his drunkenness, the conversations grew more earnest, more heartfelt. Several toasts were made. The final one was to, per True Name, ``The chance to do whatever the fuck we want.''
+
+After that, they agreed to meet the next day and give statements for the wider celebrations, and then all headed back to their home sims.
+
+Others headed back, perhaps. But after an appropriate delay, True Name let the drunkenness fade and went, instead to Jonas's apartment. Two of the Jonases were sitting on the couch, talking possibilities for the next year.
+
+``Well?'' one of them asked. Prime, she supposed.
+
+``Well, we made it,'' she said, slouching on the stool Jonas had long since added to the furniture once the skunk had started coming by regularly. ``And now we can finally work on something else.''
+
+He laughed. ``Getting bored of the same old secession arguments?''
+
+``Oh, I have been working on other things on the side, do not worry, but it will be nice to do so more openly.''
+
+``Tell me about them.''
+
+She thought for a moment, tallying up the ones she was comfortable discussing with Jonas. ``The three big ones are, I think, ensuring stability and growth via financial and political means, which I have other instances currently working on. The second is disrupting and then disbanding the Council--''
+
+Jonas sat up straighter at this.
+
+``--in order to give us more latitude to do our work without having to run it by others. It is not like the System needs any governance, anyway.''
+
+``Any \emph{open} governance,'' Jonas corrected.
+
+``Of course. There will still be work to do.''
+
+``And what's the third?''
+
+``Finding any patterns that we have left in our wake and smoothing them out. The first step will be convincing Yared to upload. He is less dangerous up here. I do not expect that to be difficult.''
+
+Jonas nodded. ``Makes sense. Do you think we've left many patterns?''
+
+She shook her head. ``No, not yet. But I think it best to get in the practice. I would like to begin to think on the scale of centuries, and if we are to do that, I think it best to shape history both as we go and in retrospect.''
+
+``Good plan,'' he said, slouching back into the couch and grinning.
+
+The skunk grinned back, far more toothily, her tail giving a lazy swish. ``And if you are thinking of calling me a politician, I would like to cordially invite you to consider the consequences of your actions.''
+
+``Fine.'' He laughed, rolling his eyes. ``So, are you at least happy with the way things are going?''
+
+``I am pleased, yes. It is a good first step. There is almost no chance of the decision being reversed down the line, and if we make it another fifty years, the concept of the System or any individuals living here remaining under the wing of any national entity will have left the collective subconscious. It will also work to our advantage that there is no un-uploading. An irreversible process that lands one in a place that appears to have no influence on the outside world will nullify the arguments of many of our detractors.''
+
+``Just ensure they upload, right.''
+
+True Name nodded. ``Yes. And once the Council is out of the way, we should be good to go.''
+
+``And how do you propose to do that?'' he asked.
+
+``It will be easy enough. Just take on more and more responsibility under the guise of helping out, start accepting less and less assistance, then begin suggesting that, since it is all going so smoothly, maybe it is not needed anymore. If we work with phys-side techs in order to drop the reputation cost of forking and sim creation, that will also help.''
+
+``Think any of them will complain?''
+
+``Not until it is too late, and by then, it will all be too difficult to form another Council, right?''
+
+Jonas nodded. ``Works for me. Shall we start divvying up tasks, then?''
+
+She nodded. ``There is much to be done.''