\hypertarget{codrin-balan-2346}{%
\chapter{Codrin Balan — 2346}\label{codrin-balan-2346}}
\markboth{Codrin Balan — 2346}{}

\begin{center}
\emph{Convergence T-minus 21 days, 9 hours, 48 minutes}
\end{center}

\noindent Codrin found emself in possession of a blissful day of peace after that sudden pile-on of news. Ey acknowledged a request from True Name to act as amanuensis with a faintness of heart that ey hoped she did not notice, worked on a letter to Ioan, and then went back to spending the rest of eir day napping, catching up on a writing project ey had been poking at, shoving Dear around for fun, and watching the fox rehearse its next performance with their partner. This one was to be a ballroom dance where everyone invited would dance with instances of Dear, which would begin disappearing one by one while the rest grew steadily more anxious, as though worrying that they would be next.

It was all very Dear, and Codrin enjoyed the idea immensely.

It was comforting, in a way, to sit on the couch and watch eir partners dance, stumble, laugh, start dancing again, all while this big project loomed outside. It was there, ey knew. It was hovering outside like a storm rolling inexorably over the prairie, ready to lash the sides of the house with bands of rain and rattle the glass with peals of thunder.

But for now, ey was safe inside, laying in supplies, even if they were simply emotional and intellectual reserves for what ey knew would be a taxing endeavor.

The only conversation ey'd allowed about the entire affair came at night, when the three of them had piled into bed, each in their familiar order but pressed now up against each other, perhaps drawing comfort against the onrushing storm.

``How's it going to feel working alongside True Name instead of against her?'' their partner asked, voice muffled by a pillow as the fox kneaded on their shoulders.

Codrin replied, voice equally muffled against the back of Dear's neck, ``I don't know if I was working against her, necessarily. It felt like it at the time, but now it just feels like we were both doing our jobs.''

``You just hated hers.''

Ey laughed against Dear's neck, which got a giggle out of the fox in turn. ``I guess. It's hard to hate too much because good things came of it, but also you can't say for sure that the same thing would've happened if she hadn't been there. Her, Jonas, the lot of them, they were all helpful in bringing about Secession and Launch how they happened, but who knows? Maybe they would've happened regardless, just with different people at the helm.''

There was a long moment of silence, broken only by the occasional noise of contentment from Dear's partner as the fox continued in its back-rub. Codrin spent the time plastering those thoughts over with better ones. Ey thought about how the fox smelled, how its fur felt against eir face. Ey thought about how, once, ey'd wound up between eir two partners in much the same position and it had led to an overwhelming wave of anxiety, a sense that things were wrong, a feeling that ey needed to escape, and how they'd comforted em and then simply fallen back into the habit of laying like this, instead. Dear seemed to draw a sense of security, sandwiched between them, just as Codrin did by having no one at eir back.

\emph{``Did you hate her?''} Dear said, breaking the silence and eir rumination. It had stopped in its massage and settled for a simple hug instead. \emph{``Do you still?''}

Ey hooked eir chin over the fox's shoulder, humming thoughtfully. ``Maybe, in a way. I thought I did at the time. I thought I hated that she was part of the hidden level of control that everyone suspects but no one can prove. All she needed was a black suit, black sunglasses, and an earpiece.''

Both of eir partners laughed.

``Now, though, I think resentment is a more accurate word than hate. I resent the feeling of being controlled with no recourse. She may have the brainpower and manpower and analytical skills to read everyone as thoroughly as she did, but I resent how cold she was in actually doing so; intentionally making me angry to make the result seem overly sensational? Not to be taken seriously? There's a lot of cynicism bound up in that.'' Ey shrugged. ``There's no point in hating her. I don't dislike the System as it stands after her and Jonas's manipulation, but I resent the cynicism it took to get here. I don't resent being here, but I do resent the phys-side manipulations that led to me being here.''

After yawning, Dear's partner asked, ``Think you'll be alright working beside her while you resent her?''

``If it was just me, no,'' ey said. ``If that cynicism is directed at the Artemisians and Tycho and whoever else, rather than just at me, It'll be fine, I think.''

\emph{``Besides,''} Dear said. \emph{``You will still get to see great things, my dear. You may be tired, yes, but out of however many billion people on board, you will get to see great things.''}

The conversation trailed off from there, and the three slept well that night, each dreaming their dreams of cynicism or skunks or aliens or astronomers or love.

The reprieve lasted until morning when, upon waking, Codrin discovered a note on the floor, written in the Odists' distinctive handwriting:

\begin{quote}
Mx.~Bălan,

It has been requested that we pull together a team of five to act as emissaries to exchange with a team of similar composition from the Artemisians. They have left specific instructions for the roles that should be involved: someone in a position of leadership, a scientist, a recorder, and two representatives. We have the following:

\begin{itemize}
\tightlist
\item
  Leadership: myself, True Name
\item
  Scientist: Dr.~Tycho Brahe
\item
  Recorder: you
\item
  Representative 1: Why Ask Questions, Here At The End Of All Things of the Ode clade
\end{itemize}

However, we will need one more representative. It would be vanishingly easy for me or Jonas to pick someone who would be fitting for our enterprises, but why do that when it would potentially be much more interesting to let you pick? It ought to be someone outside the Ode clade or your polycule, but beyond that, I find myself fascinated by the idea that you—you, who have your feet on the ground and head in the clouds—might pick someone about whom I know nothing. With two Odists on the team already, one of whom is one of my up-tree instances, I am sure you can see that we will have the situation under control from our end.

Please make your choice today, and I will look forward to seeing the two of you at systime 1700 for a candlelit dinner in Tycho's delightful sim. If they are interested in joining, your partners are also welcome.

Cordially,

The Only Time I Know My True Name Is When I Dream of the Ode clade
\end{quote}

Attached was the full text of both messages received so far.

After reading the note, ey placed it face down on the table and headed to the kitchen to make coffee. Ey needed at least some mood-altering substance before engaging with that, and it was far too early in the morning to reach for wine.

When Dear read the note, the fox made a sour face. \emph{``I am not sure whether she is trying to be funny, strategically honest, or simply a brat.''}

Ey slouched in eir chair at the table, focusing on the coffee, doing eir best to pick out and name different notes in the flavor. Something fruity. And caramel, perhaps. ``I didn't know she was capable of humor.''

\emph{``Everyone is capable of humor, my dear. Whether or not they intend it is the question.''}

``Want to come to a dinner party with me, then?''

There was a long pause during which several emotions played out on the fox's face before it replied. \emph{``I will have an answer for you by systime 1500. I cannot decide right now.''}

``Dinner party?'' Dear's partner stumbled from the bedroom, creases from a pillow still evident on their cheek. ``How many do I have to cook for?''

``None, thankfully,'' Codrin grinned. ``Or perhaps just Dear and I. We've been invited to one.''

They stopped at the end of the table, leaning down onto their hands. ``Well, Dear is frowning, so I'm assuming it's complicated?''

``True Name would like me to join her and the rest of the emissaries to the Artemisians for dinner, and she's invited you two as well.''

``No,'' they said flatly. ``And now, it's time for coffee.''

A warning glance from Dear kept Codrin from asking further after that. Instead, ey said, ``I have an unrelated question for you once you're caffeinated.''

They waved their hand noncommittally as they stumbled into the kitchen where a mug sat waiting for them already.

Once everyone was awake enough for conversation, ey asked eir question. ``Either of you know someone who would be a good choice to balance out this diplomatic party? Someone less likely to try and shape the whole venture to their will, but not as passive as an amanuensis?''

Dear shrugged. \emph{``I can get you in touch with plenty of artists. How opposite of an Odist viewpoint are you looking for?''}

``I'm not sure that's quite the goal, so much as someone who can be engaged and can contribute without being as cynical as anyone from True Name's stanza or as singularly focused as Tycho. I think what might be good is just someone ordinary. Someone normal. Boring.''

Dear's partner raised their eyebrows. ``If you want someone who would be interested, is pleasant to be around, and is able to engage in a conversation without going down a rabbit hole or starting a fight, I think I know someone.''

\emph{``Slander. I can engage in conversations and I do not go down rabbit holes or start fights.''}

``Yeah, but absolutely no one would call you boring, Dear.''

It preened.

``Sounds promising,'' Codrin said, flipping the note over and studying the list. ``What do they have that would counterbalance this, beyond being ordinary?''

``She's earnest about everything. It's really endearing, actually. She's likeable without being manipulative or cynical. She's interested in people, too, and tries to see the good in them like it's her job.'' They paused, grinned, and shrugged. ``I mean, she was my therapist before I uploaded, so I may be a little biased.''

``A therapist? That's a really good idea, come to think of it.'' Ey leaned forward onto eir elbows. ``Someone who can understand humans and just be a normal human is what I was thinking of. What's her name?''

``Sarah Genet. Want me to see if she's free? She's a tracker, I'm sure she'd be willing to send a fork for something like this.''

``Why not? She sounds like a nice enough person to meet either way.''

Dear nodded enthusiastically. \emph{``I am always curious to meet friends of others from before they uploaded! You are not exempt from this, my love.''}

They smirked, looked up at the ceiling for a minute or two, then nodded. ``She's getting ready, and will be over at noon or so.''

Codrin had never seen a therapist either before or after uploading. Before, it had been a luxury that eir family couldn't afford, and after, ey had been so busy—first with getting used to uploaded life, then with study, then with work—to have considered it much.

Ey had, however, seen a counselor in school as mandated by the school itself. Mr.~Nicolescu had been a kindly old gentleman, but one who seemed perpetually on the brink of collapsing from exhaustion. It made sense, given the size of the school, the requirement to meet with every student at least once a year, and the lack of any other counselors. Ey had been a good student and a quiet kid, and seeing him in any context other than the required visit—as ey had when eir parents had died—was often a sign that something had gone wrong.

Sarah Genet immediately reminded em of Mr.~Nicolescu in many ways. The way she walked, the way she held herself, her smile, the way she listened with her whole attention on whatever someone had to say.

Ey liked her immediately, a feeling which ey'd questioned ever since composing the \emph{History.}

``So, all I was told coming into this was that I was needed for a project that might interest me,'' she said, once she'd been offered coffee, snacks, and a seat at the table. ``If you're going to go all mysterious on me, I'm probably already going to say yes, but make your pitch.''

``Quick pitch?'' Codrin said. ``Aliens found our Dreamer Module signal and are going to upload a diplomatic party in a few weeks, and you were suggested as a good candidate for the talks.''

A few long seconds of quiet followed before Dear's partner laughed. ``Sorry Sarah. You see why I wanted you over here to have this conversation in person?''

``You're telling me, good Lord.'' She shook her head, folded her hands on the table, and smiled. ``Alright, now give me the longer pitch.''

``Alright. The Dreamer Module broadcast, in short, contained instructions on how to build a message that would work with our Ansible, allowing anyone who found it to upload to the LVs. A few nights ago, someone picked that up and answered.''

Ey slid the note from True Name across the table and waited for her to read.

When she had finished, Sarah said, ``Whew, alright. That's a lot. So in however many hours, we should expect a team of five of them, and we'll send a team of five in turn. Any idea what we'll be talking about?''

``No clue. Clearly science of some sort, given their request for a scientist. Probably coming to an agreement, if they're asking for a recorder of some sort, though that's just a guess on my part. The ``We welcome you'' bit sounds promising, at least.''

She read through the note once more, set it down, and sipped at her coffee. ``Well, you already know that I'm in, but I'm happy to say that this doesn't change my decision. Why me, though?''

Dear's partner answered, ``Have you read the Bălans' \emph{History,} yet? \emph{An Expanded History of Our World?} I know I pointed you to it.''

``More than pointed,'' she said, laughing. ``You all but forced me to read it, so, yes.''

``So you know of True Name, right?''

``The one who tried to guide everything? Yeah, I remember. I didn't miss her name on there, either.''

Codrin sighed. ``I had the chance to interview her—me and my root instance both did—and she's a lot to deal with. I'm sure it's some calculated gesture that she leaves the last choice up to me, but all the same, I wanted to pick someone who could be a foil to her.''

``So you figured a therapist would be good? A psychologist?''

``Yeah, someone who can maybe understand the Artemisians better without doing so specifically to manipulate them.''

She held her coffee cup in her hands, tilting her head thoughtfully. ``You know, it's a good intuition, but you might also want to be prepared for there to be nothing I can offer. They're clearly similar enough to us that they can learn our language, but that may be where the similarities stop. They may be so alien to us that we might not be able to understand them at all, at least not truly.''

Codrin frowned.

``Not that it's hopeless, of course. I'm still happy to help. Honored, even! Just an eventuality you might want to prepare for.''

``Well, maybe you can help us understand the Odists better, if nothing else.''

Dear kicked at eir shin beneath the table.

Sarah laughed. ``Have they sent us anything to teach us their language?''

\emph{``One of their languages, perhaps,''} Dear chimed in. \emph{``There seem to be four different species.''}

``One of them, right,'' she said. ``If we only sent them our \emph{lingua franca,} though, maybe they have similar.''

``I don't know, actually. Those are the messages I have, but I don't know if they're the only ones,'' Codrin said. ``We'll probably learn more tonight. You alright creating a long-running fork for the project? That's what she made Tycho do.''

``Oh, that's fine. It'll be my first time working on a big, organized project like this.''

Ey laughed. ``Same here. I've worked on big projects and organized projects, but not both at the same time.''

``I'll look forward to dinner, then.'' She looked down, plucked at her blouse, and shrugged. ``Think this is good enough for it?''

``If it's at Tycho's, it'll be too dark to tell, but I don't think he owns anything other than flannel shirts and jeans. You should be fine.''

``Alright. I'm curious to see what someone who tried to shape large swaths of recent history looks like.''
