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@ -52,7 +52,7 @@ Eir partners both laughed.
*"A horrible shame. I do not have the same attraction to them that you do, my dear, but they are still delightful."* *"A horrible shame. I do not have the same attraction to them that you do, my dear, but they are still delightful."*
"You take it to almost a fetishistic level, Codrin," eir other partner said. "For which we love you, of course." "You take it to almost a fetishistic level, Codruț," eir other partner said, the playful, diminutive form of eir name adding another layer of teasing. "For which we love you, of course."
Ey rolled eir eyes. "Domestic abuse, I say. Let me turn it back on you, though, what did you do?" Ey rolled eir eyes. "Domestic abuse, I say. Let me turn it back on you, though, what did you do?"

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# Ioan Bălan --- 2346 # Tycho Brahe#Artemis --- 2346
> *Convergence T-plus 30 days, 23 hours, 48 minutes* > *Convergence T-minus 1 day, 2 hours, 58 minutes*
> *(Lagrange--Pollux transmission delay: 30 days, 14 hours, 41 minutes)*
Ioan, Over the last hour of common time, what tension was bound within True Name seemed to have been refocused from struggling quite so hard to maintain her form into being present and taking part. This meant that, while she was more susceptible to waves of shifting species and the occasional gasp or shudder, she grew far more intent on the task at hand, of learning from the discussions with the Artemisians.
I must admit, I'm really not sure what to say about all of this. Thank you for waiting until you have a substantial amount to send to me, at least. Dear threw a little tantrum about this "We have received messages over the last few days" bit, but I appreciate having an initial digest to work with so that I'm not left a fretting mess (as you say you were) by the simple news that, oh look, aliens! I threatened to bundle it up in blankets until it was immobile for a few hours, though, and it calmed down. I may do so anyway. Tycho found the ways in which her face would ghost first one way then the other fascinating and unnerving, but also the steadfastness with which she moved in the context of the meeting in spite of that admirable. While the talks had continued apace, with frequent breaks on the part of the Odists, there felt like more forward momentum thanks to this sacrifice.
Four races! Five thousand years! One language! Have you learned any of that, yourself? And yet maybe it's all a dream! Truly fascinating. As you can imagine, Dear latched onto that quite quickly. Codrin had noticed the change as well, and when asked, ey had nodded in agreement. "She approaches much of her...well, I was going to say life, but it goes beyond that. She approaches much of her existence as a cost-benefit analysis of sorts. This level of control and momentum is worth the cost she's paying in comfort."
How is May Then My Name taking it? You mention True Name, but have you heard from any other Odists? Any other friends? If Lagrange is anything like Pollux, people are talking about little else. "Leader Turun Ka," True Name began as soon as the session restarted after a break. "I would like to ask how you manage sentiment here on Artemis. Are there many situations where the direction, momentum, or clarity of social change must be managed from a high level?"
The news broke over here much as it sounds as though it did on Lagrange: with tightly controlled excitement. There is no doubt that the powers that be continue their work across all three Systems, but it's always fascinating to see. The amount of bafflement was outweighed by the amount of excitement. The excitement also outweighed the amount of fear. Everyone's eager for every scrap of news that they can get. Codrin, Sarah, and Tycho all frowned at this. Answers Will Not Help seemed only able to grit her teeth.
How much of the delay in sending word to us was due to True Name and her friends? I imagine she had words about the first message, at least, but a whole week's worth of messages feels like a good deal must have been going on. There was a blurred conversation among the Artemisians, after which their leader spoke up. "In order to ensure that we answer the correct question you are asking, do you want information on how we govern?"
No matter, though. We're all eagerly awaiting every little snippet that we can get from you. I know that you won't get this for another, what, 30? 31? And that a month from when you sent it! I know you won't get it for a wwhile, is what I'm saying, but please know that you're free to pass on information directly from here on out! We'll be learning plenty from the news we're allowed to see over here, anyway, so any juicy tidbits in addition to that will be greatly appreciated. The skunk nodded. "That, yes, but I am also interested in how you might control the flow of information across the system. Do you inject opinions, or restrict the transmission of opinions that the Council of Eight might feel uncomfortable being displayed openly?"
I am continually confronted with the ways in which we have diverged. May Then My Name and Dear#Castor mentioned how upset they were by the idea of time manipulation, but my Dear...well, it did not seem pleased with the idea, but its reaction was not nearly so visceral. It simply got a sour look on its face and said *"I do not like the idea of a place where I cannot fork. Can you imagine a place so boring?"* Artante's eyes darted over to Sarah, who lifted her eyebrows in a hint of a shrug.
**BĂLAN CLADE-EYES-ONLY MATERIAL** "I will answer the question about governance first, and then we shall proceed to the second one," it said. "We, in our capacities as leaders, perform very few actions in the time between convergences. In many cases, we act simply as those one might go to for advice. Something less than advisory. *Lu*..."
The last few years have seen a drastic reduction in the amount of times that Dear has overflowed. I don't know if ey's been passing on every instance from Castor, or if you have been passing on every letter in turn, but it sounds like the same is true of Dear#Castor as well, for which I'm thankful. "More of a familial role," Artante said. "Avuncular, perhaps. The Council is comprised of individuals who are exemplary in both intellectual and emotional intelligence from among their races, and any aboard Artemis may request a meeting in order to discuss solutions to difficult problems."
I'm sorry to hear about May Then My Name, though. Discussion of 'cracks showing' always seems to crop up whenever one of our loved ones goes through a rough period such as this, and your news spurred a conversation between the three of us plus Serene, and despite the relative quiescence of Dear's symptoms, such as they are, we have noticed an uptick of oddities in Odists over here, as well. Not just Odists, of course, but a few of the older clades. Hell, a Jonas even went haywire a few weeks back. "And during convergences?" True Name asked.
Still, I'm happy to hear that everyone's tallies are lining up well: far fewer old clades over here are experiencing such symptoms than feared after the publication of *Perils*, for which just about everyone is happy. No one wants to deal with an impending burden of insanity on one's two hundredth birthday, so to hear that it's only a fraction and that maybe there's something that can be done (or so we hear; has there been news of psychotherapy as a treatment over there? I've been hearing whispers) has kept the population at large from freaking out. I imagine you have it worse, though, given the relative skew towards dispersionistas on the LVs; I bet early taskers are freaking out. "During convergences, we act more in the way that you suggest. We act as a filter between the receipt of information from the converging civilization. The cases in which we might block information or shape it to our own means remain rare, but the ability to explore the ramifications of that information and prepare for possible outcomes we have found useful."
Either way, Ioan, I am concerned for you and your partner. Our lives are informed by trauma, and the trauma that we hold in particular leads to a sort of conservatism that is particularly focused on our loved ones. I know that you want nothing more than to see May Then My Name continue to thrive, and I know that seeing her struggle is incredibly painful as it touches on the roots of those very same traumas. I know that the two of you will make it through alright, but, as this is in the clade-eyes-only section, do remember to keep yourself safe. You have Douglas. You have Debarre and End Waking (are they back together? Please say yes). You have A Finger Pointing. You have so many delightful friends I've yet to even meet and some I'll have have the chance to. When you need, nudge May Then My Name to her support network and lean on your own. "This makes sense. Thank you, leader Turun Ka. We work along similar lines, where we have first access to information coming from Artemis --- our only convergence thus far --- and we are able to run simulations on possible outcomes in order to prepare for reactions."
**IOAN BĂLAN INDIVIDUAL-EYES-ONLY MATERIAL** The firstracer turned its head to the side in what Tycho supposed must be confusion. "Please expand on 'simulations', leader True Name."
The following is in strict confidence with you and you alone, Ioan. I've received permission to share from all parties involved. "The term is overloaded, perhaps. We explore possible reactions by playing them out among members of our clade or others in an advisory role. Some instances of ourselves will play the role of the recipients of that news while others play the role of those who are receiving the information. Another, perhaps more distasteful, term for this, is 'wargaming'."
I don't know how much of Codrin#Castor and my messages between each other that you've read, or if that would even have helped, but watching the slow individuation of a loved one is an experience unique even from watching oneself individuate. The Dear I am in love with feels much like the Dear I fell in love with decades ago, and yet slowly the Dear on Castor begins to feel like a stranger to me. The Artemisians immediately sped up for a private meeting, and Tycho once again turned his attention to True Name's face, searching for any sign of anxiety, anything to show that she regretted having said a word that implied violence.
Dear#Castor sounds so much more conservative --- in its approach to life, of course, rather than that of the division of the Odists --- than what I've grown used to. The prairie remains the same. The house remains the same. Codrin#Castor's struggles with agency and directedness in life feel as unfamiliar to me as you have mentioned. You have taken control of your life as I have taken control of my own, each in our own way. To put this on the Odists feels at once unfair, unfortunate, and totally accurate. May Then My Name has changed you in so many irreversible ways, just as Dear changed me so many years ago. Changed you, too, for when we merged and then diverged, you were no longer the same Ioan that remained behind. You were the type of Ioan who could fall in love with May Then My Name in the first place. There was nothing there. She just looked tired. Calm, but tired.
So when Dear gave up the prairie and dragged Serene over to build out our little world into something grander, a place more well-rounded than just flat plains, we were both ready because, hey, this was Dear, right? So we built out our little world of plains and hills, forests and lakes. And then that spur-of-the-moment shift redirected our lives in unforeseen ways. With the acceptance of variety, Serene moved in to continue her work, and then her elliptical orbit passed through our lives for a while before she drifted away again. Once they returned to common time, Turun Ka continued. "Of the four races aboard, three of them have an analogous term, though it has not made it into common usage in our shared language."
Despite lingering taboo, I am not ashamed of having wound up, for that one short year, in a relationship with two members of the same clade. None of us are; not even Dear and Serene, they promise us. It's not shame that keeps me from telling those on Castor about this. It is the completely alien way that those who feel as though they ought to *be* us interact with the world that leads to such. I feel as though I am unable to tell Codrin#Castor about what happened because to do so feels like explaining the alien to someone who really, truly, in all ways ought to know. Ey ought to be able to feel the same things that I feel, correct? Ey ought to also love Serene, oughtn't ey? Ey must, for ey is me, is ey not? "*Tuvårouni* is the word for wrestling in the common tongue, but 'push-play' in the context of planning can mean 'to wargame'," Iska said. "It is not common except in the context of old *Nanon* stories."
And yet ey is not. I cannot bring up our relationship with Serene because Codrin#Castor --- that is, specifically *me*#Castor --- does not have the same thoughts around intraclade romantic relationships that I do, and by virtue of the direction that the Odists steered us (or, as feels more accurate, crashed with us headlong and heedless) into this future, we are now completely different in that way. Both Codrin and Sarah took notes throughout the description, True Name looking on in exhaustion to ensure that they got the topics down.
The Dear that I live with has, in comparison to Dear#Castor, relaxed and moved on to an approach to life that is far more laid back. As a result, we *all* have, me included. "Thank you, leader Turun Ka, representative Iska, for explaining. Another part of my question would be do you shape information via communications? For instance, in order to quell fears that there might be some breach in our DMZ --- demilitarized zone, if you will pardon more warlike language, the air-gapped sim in which these conversations are taking place on Castor --- we injected communications into the news feed in the form of carefully worded questions about the nature of the security measures, snide remarks about how thankful people were that the security was in place, or subtle propaganda."
Also, as an internal postscript, I should note that the three of us are all still deeply in love with Serene and she with us, so please do not misconstrue the past tense above, but good Lord. Two foxes in the same house? Never again. "This is not common for us, no," Turun Ka said. "Part of this is due to the lack of centralized news and communication sources between the races."
This is the end of the private content of the letter. Please redact this in its entirety should you pass my thoughts on to Castor (though of course you may talk about it with May; she'll understand the sensitive nature of the topic). "Is there so little communication between the races?" Sarah asked.
**END IOAN BĂLAN INDIVIDUAL-EYES-ONLY MATERIAL** It was Artante that answered. "There is communication, yes, but large portions of the four races aboard stay within enclaves made up of members of their own races. All shared areas except for this complex are open to all races, and there are news sources available in there, but by virtue of infrequent access by large portions of the population, news does not spread very far."
**END BĂLAN CLADE-EYES-ONLY MATERIAL** "Not even by way of rumor?" True Name asked.
I am settling in quite well at the university and they are as excited as I am to receive the inevitable dump of information that comes from Artemis. It is a librarian's dream. I have seen quite the bump in my reputation, oddly enough, just by having my cocladist's name attached to the project over on Castor. No complaints, but honestly, what is a librarian to do with reputation? "Rumors do spread," Iska said when the Artemisians returned to common time. "Much of Artemis likely knows of the current convergence by now. We do not attempt to control the rumors."
Pass on our love to May Then My Name and tell her that we are all incredibly happy to hear that there is no more news of broken noses in this letter. "Not even by considering the wording of this news?" Tycho could hear the control in the skunk's voice. Was she frustrated, perhaps?
Codrin#Castor, know that you've got us backing you as well. The world lies before you and is not nearly so black and white as it might seem. Search for those shades of gray that allow you to take a step forward. "We write-speak-disseminate clearly-precisely," Turun Ko said. "But-yet even fourthrace understands-knows that convergences occur and that they are handled-dealt-with."
It's been more than twenty years (or forty, if you count splitting from you, Ioan), and it still feels incredibly weird talking myself up, doesn't it? If nothing else, take it from yourself that it's possible. True name nodded and subsided, bowing her head with blurring of her form. "*Eslosla datåt,*" she said. "Thank you all."
Cheers, "No ranks of angels will answer to dreamers," Answers Will Not Help whispered when the silence drew out, then stood unsteadily, ghosted images of a tail jolting her hips first this way and then that. "No unknowable spa...spaces...my apologies. May we take a break?"
Codrin#Pollux "Yes, of course," Artante said. "Please be well."
----- After True Name and Answers Will Not Help tottered off to their rooms, each leaning on the other, Codrin, Sarah, and Tycho sat on a pair of beds, heads down and running in fast time in order to discuss the last segment of conversations.
Codrin, "I wasn't expecting her to be that open about political machinations," Tycho said. "I'd think she'd want to keep it under wraps. If her and Jonas and their friends have been working to shape our past so much, you'd think they'd want to be a bit more subtle about that."
Wonderful as always to hear from you. This will, of course, reach you long after the point where I could answer any pertinent questions about Artemis that I have not already done so by forwarding on what I've learned, myself. The amount of updates quickly got to the point where it didn't feel worth it to try and summarize them at all, so you're getting them all. Besides, you can summarize as well as I. Sarah shrugged. "Maybe, though it could be many things. Could be that they're aiming to show the whole of us, positives and negatives, as the Artemisians don't have the context of the *History*. Perhaps she wants to show that we have a society strong enough to handle manipulation without slipping into authoritarianism. The fact that we use language so consciously is probably a sign in our favor, in the end."
Dramatic, isn't it? Convergence! I just sent you a letter earlier today about the latest from Tycho on Artemis, so I don't have too much to add, really. "Or she could just be slipping," Tycho added.
I'm curious about how things are working out over there with True Name and the leadership. We haven't heard anything yet from Castor about how she's doing over there, but it's always good to get a fuller picture of how things are going when they are, yet again, involved in something enormous. "She's hardly winding up in word salad territory," she allowed. "But it's hard to tell how much of that was telling the truth, being a politician, or actually getting into the territory of grandeur."
Hell, on that note, how is the sentiment overall? There's been a lot of chatter; on the night of the announcement, we had to cancel a performance due to how excited everyone was. A Finger Pointing was quick to capitalize this, and went on a tear of digging up every single production that she could find about aliens to start scheduling. When she found a relative paucity of such, she started digging into sci-fi, going all the way back to R.U.R. I have, surprising no one, been contracted to write one for the occasion, and I've been doing so with what information that I have. "No reason it can't be both, I guess." Codrin sighed, buried eir face in eir hands, and rubbed eir face vigorously. "She might be working on some level way above our pay grades and still having a hard time keeping it together."
(Also, to your question: yes, End Waking and Debarre have settled back into dating. I do wish you'd gotten a chance to meet End Waking. He is a delight to be around in his own coarse, woodsy way.) Tycho frowned as those fears once more floated to the surface. Something was going on in these talks that he simply didn't understand. Things were being said with so many different meanings and the subtext felt completely disconnected from the text.
I'll pass on the snippets of secondrace language that I've received so far. Codrin promises that the grammar and dictionary will be forthcoming (probably in the next few days, if I'm calculating the transmission times right), but says that True Name has suggested that any large messages from Artemis be sent after a thorough evaluation. I can't tell if that means an evaluation of their contents or an evaluation of any hidden intent on the part of the Artemisians. "Is it always like this?" he asked.
**BĂLAN CLADE-EYES-ONLY MATERIAL** "Is what like this?"
**CODRIN BĂLAN#POLLUX INDIVIDUAL-EYES-ONLY MATERIAL** "Working with them. Working with any politician."
This is in confidence. Codrin grinned. "Well, I can certainly confirm that the Odists work in ways that feel distant from what we're used to. Dear will occasionally say something that makes no sense in context, but then a week or two later, I'll realize what it actually meant, or that it was a suggestion that I'd subconsciously started following without really thinking about it."
It was interesting hearing the story of your triad (is it still a triad? I was unable to parse to what extent Serene may still be a part of your little polycule, though it does sound as though there is a healthier distance between you all now) in your words. Serene actually contacted us a few months back to pass on the story, herself, also in confidence. She made us promise to keep it to ourselves, even from you. I pinged her with the fact that your letter contained this information to make sure that I could confirm this with you, and she said yes. "They're incredible at reading people," Sarah said. "At least with Dear, I can see it being sort of a positive --- or at worst, playful --- way of influencing. I'm not sure with True Name, and have no idea what Why Ask Questions might be doing otherwise."
I found the whole story as she told it to be terribly fascinating. There was a brief twinge of surprise at the idea of an intraclade relationship, but it was not the first that I've heard of since Launch. They're hardly common back here, but neither are they unheard of as individuation increases and taboos lessen. Still, this is the closest that we've been to one. No friends, even, just right into our own clades. Tycho looked to Codrin, who gave him a subtle shake of the head. "Me either," he said at last. "Hell, I have no idea what's going on with them either, other than what Codrin's told me. Have you heard anything else from the delegates back Castor?"
It sparked a long, drawn out discussion between May, Douglas and I, actually. Less, I think, because there was any chance of that between the three of us than because Douglas is hungry for essentially every bit of information about the clade that he can get his hands on --- though, May being May, she would leap at the chance to get closer to him, but the most he is comfortable with from anyone is friendship and physical affection (he will pet May for hours if she'll let him --- and she always does). "Just a little bit about language," ey said thoughtfully. "We actually touched on it today with that bit about 'old Nanon', so I'll write em back. I'd asked em a question about the Odists and what their roles had been because I was having a hard time piecing together memories, and ey confirmed that."
On my end, I was mostly interested in May's thoughts on the matter as, except for a drunken (very drunken) night with A Finger Pointing, the two of us together have at most friendly relationships with any other Odist. We've not talked about that night with anyone else, either, and hardly even with each other. When I brought it up, both May and A Finger Pointing laughed at me and told me to "get the fuck over it" because apparently that's just how theatre nerds are. "What sort of question?" Sarah asked.
However, when I asked May about it directly, she confided in me (and again, the anxious part of me compels me to note that I have permission to share this) that nearly seven decades back, she was nudged toward another Odist (one from the first stanza, though she did not specify which) by True Name, and a fork of her remained in a relationship with them for some time. Perhaps they are still together. May does not know. When pressed as to how this worked, she said that the instance who began that relationship was "no longer me". I did not ask further. Ey hesitated. "Well, I was asking about the difference between Why Ask Questions and Answers Will Not Help since we've worked with both of them. Ey confirmed that both worked on shaping sentiment, just different areas of expertise. My guess is that if...well, Why Ask Questions were feeling better, she'd have a lot to add to the conversation we had today."
Either way, it's something of a relief to be able to talk about this openly (or, well "openly") with you. Keeping a secret about one's own cocladist from them is uncomfortable. *Wonder how the Artemisians would react to that?* Tycho thought. *True Name was honest, but not enough to bring up this little bit of trickery.*
That digression aside, I take well your meaning about the divergence of Castor and Pollux. I see the divergence in you two, and while it has mostly just been an interesting point to consider at times, occasionally it becomes very pertinent very quickly. I have often admired the ways in which you moved beyond the Bălans of old. It's nice to see proof that we can truly own our lives --- which is not to say that I don't feel that about myself, but in comparison with #Castor's current malaise, it comes in stark contrast.
I don't know how Dear would take a nudge from you, and it certainly isn't my place, but I do plan on helping Codrin over there however I can. I've been discussing this with May as well, and we are brainstorming suggestions for new paths for em. I don't think that ey could manage hopping right into life in academia as you have, both because of the differences in the university between the two LVs as well as the differences in your histories over the last few decades.
I also want to discuss this with May as well, though I will await your permission. I do not think that she is at as much risk of conservatism as it sounds like Dear#Castor is, but there have been several conversations between us now regarding the directions that the clade that I'll speak to in normal clade-eyes-only, as I plan on sharing these messages with #Castor.
I'll keep you up to date either way.
**END CODRIN BĂLAN#POLLUX INDIVIDUAL-EYES-ONLY MATERIAL**
While I'm sure that another Odist has already passed on this information, you should know that two Odists have quit recently, May One Day Death Itself Not Die and I Do Not Know, I Do Not Know, leaving behind no forks. The Ode is now ninety-seven.
May and In Dreams were there at the end, and this has led to an increased sense of urgency when it comes to the clade approaching their affliction. To that end, May, True Name, and In Dreams are working with a psychologist recommended from folks on Castor (the Sarah Genet mentioned in the messages I've been forwarding) to discuss paths forward.
These events took place during May's aforementioned overflowing spell, which led to it being prolonged to nearly a week. She has made it through, and my nose remains intact despite getting tackled, as usual. She has recovered well despite some lingering depression, but this, in combination with some of the news from Castor which you also will have received before this, has me more worried for her than usual. She may be a little terror, but she is my little terror.
All of them seem to be dealing with this in their own way. May and Dear overflow in their own ways, End Waking's desire for solitude will override his relationship with Debarre for a time, and now this over on the Death Itself stanza.
Can you do me a favor when you get a chance, and let me know how True Name#Pollux is doing in this respect in particular? Doesn't need to be anything too in-depth, but, well, she is a part of this as always, and clearly there is something going on with her here.
**END BĂLAN CLADE-EYES-ONLY MATERIAL**
Pass on my love. I miss you and yours.
Ioan Bălan

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# Tycho Brahe#Artemis --- 2346 # Part III --- Intensity
> *Convergence T-minus 1 day, 2 hours, 58 minutes* > And so the ark was sent out into the sea of the night, making waves in the black between the stars and leaving a wake of dreams new and old behind it.
Over the last hour of common time, what tension was bound within True Name seemed to have been refocused from struggling quite so hard to maintain her form into being present and taking part. This meant that, while she was more susceptible to waves of shifting species and the occasional gasp or shudder, she grew far more intent on the task at hand, of learning from the discussions with the Artemisians.
Tycho found the ways in which her face would ghost first one way then the other fascinating and unnerving, but also the steadfastness with which she moved in the context of the meeting in spite of that admirable. While the talks had continued apace, with frequent breaks on the part of the Odists, there felt like more forward momentum thanks to this sacrifice.
Codrin had noticed the change as well, and when asked, ey had nodded in agreement. "She approaches much of her...well, I was going to say life, but it goes beyond that. She approaches much of her existence as a cost-benefit analysis of sorts. This level of control and momentum is worth the cost she's paying in comfort."
"Leader Turun Ka," True Name began as soon as the session restarted after a break. "I would like to ask how you manage sentiment here on Artemis. Are there many situations where the direction, momentum, or clarity of social change must be managed from a high level?"
Codrin, Sarah, and Tycho all frowned at this. Answers Will Not Help seemed only able to grit her teeth.
There was a blurred conversation among the Artemisians, after which their leader spoke up. "In order to ensure that we answer the correct question you are asking, do you want information on how we govern?"
The skunk nodded. "That, yes, but I am also interested in how you might control the flow of information across the system. Do you inject opinions, or restrict the transmission of opinions that the Council of Eight might feel uncomfortable being displayed openly?"
Artante's eyes darted over to Sarah, who lifted her eyebrows in a hint of a shrug.
"I will answer the question about governance first, and then we shall proceed to the second one," it said. "We, in our capacities as leaders, perform very few actions in the time between convergences. In many cases, we act simply as those one might go to for advice. Something less than advisory. *Lu*..."
"More of a familial role," Artante said. "Avuncular, perhaps. The Council is comprised of individuals who are exemplary in both intellectual and emotional intelligence from among their races, and any aboard Artemis may request a meeting in order to discuss solutions to difficult problems."
"And during convergences?" True Name asked.
"During convergences, we act more in the way that you suggest. We act as a filter between the receipt of information from the converging civilization. The cases in which we might block information or shape it to our own means remain rare, but the ability to explore the ramifications of that information and prepare for possible outcomes we have found useful."
"This makes sense. Thank you, leader Turun Ka. We work along similar lines, where we have first access to information coming from Artemis --- our only convergence thus far --- and we are able to run simulations on possible outcomes in order to prepare for reactions."
The firstracer turned its head to the side in what Tycho supposed must be confusion. "Please expand on 'simulations', leader True Name."
"The term is overloaded, perhaps. We explore possible reactions by playing them out among members of our clade or others in an advisory role. Some instances of ourselves will play the role of the recipients of that news while others play the role of those who are receiving the information. Another, perhaps more distasteful, term for this, is 'wargaming'."
The Artemisians immediately sped up for a private meeting, and Tycho once again turned his attention to True Name's face, searching for any sign of anxiety, anything to show that she regretted having said a word that implied violence.
There was nothing there. She just looked tired. Calm, but tired.
Once they returned to common time, Turun Ka continued. "Of the four races aboard, three of them have an analogous term, though it has not made it into common usage in our shared language."
"*Tuvårouni* is the word for wrestling in the common tongue, but 'push-play' in the context of planning can mean 'to wargame'," Iska said. "It is not common except in the context of old *Nanon* stories."
Both Codrin and Sarah took notes throughout the description, True Name looking on in exhaustion to ensure that they got the topics down.
"Thank you, leader Turun Ka, representative Iska, for explaining. Another part of my question would be do you shape information via communications? For instance, in order to quell fears that there might be some breach in our DMZ --- demilitarized zone, if you will pardon more warlike language, the air-gapped sim in which these conversations are taking place on Castor --- we injected communications into the news feed in the form of carefully worded questions about the nature of the security measures, snide remarks about how thankful people were that the security was in place, or subtle propaganda."
"This is not common for us, no," Turun Ka said. "Part of this is due to the lack of centralized news and communication sources between the races."
"Is there so little communication between the races?" Sarah asked.
It was Artante that answered. "There is communication, yes, but large portions of the four races aboard stay within enclaves made up of members of their own races. All shared areas except for this complex are open to all races, and there are news sources available in there, but by virtue of infrequent access by large portions of the population, news does not spread very far."
"Not even by way of rumor?" True Name asked.
"Rumors do spread," Iska said when the Artemisians returned to common time. "Much of Artemis likely knows of the current convergence by now. We do not attempt to control the rumors."
"Not even by considering the wording of this news?" Tycho could hear the control in the skunk's voice. Was she frustrated, perhaps?
"We write-speak-disseminate clearly-precisely," Turun Ko said. "But-yet even fourthrace understands-knows that convergences occur and that they are handled-dealt-with."
True name nodded and subsided, bowing her head with blurring of her form. "*Eslosla datåt,*" she said. "Thank you all."
"No ranks of angels will answer to dreamers," Answers Will Not Help whispered when the silence drew out, then stood unsteadily, ghosted images of a tail jolting her hips first this way and then that. "No unknowable spa...spaces...my apologies. May we take a break?"
"Yes, of course," Artante said. "Please be well."
After True Name and Answers Will Not Help tottered off to their rooms, each leaning on the other, Codrin, Sarah, and Tycho sat on a pair of beds, heads down and running in fast time in order to discuss the last segment of conversations.
"I wasn't expecting her to be that open about political machinations," Tycho said. "I'd think she'd want to keep it under wraps. If her and Jonas and their friends have been working to shape our past so much, you'd think they'd want to be a bit more subtle about that."
Sarah shrugged. "Maybe, though it could be many things. Could be that they're aiming to show the whole of us, positives and negatives, as the Artemisians don't have the context of the *History*. Perhaps she wants to show that we have a society strong enough to handle manipulation without slipping into authoritarianism. The fact that we use language so consciously is probably a sign in our favor, in the end."
"Or she could just be slipping," Tycho added.
"She's hardly winding up in word salad territory," she allowed. "But it's hard to tell how much of that was telling the truth, being a politician, or actually getting into the territory of grandeur."
"No reason it can't be both, I guess." Codrin sighed, buried eir face in eir hands, and rubbed eir face vigorously. "She might be working on some level way above our pay grades and still having a hard time keeping it together."
Tycho frowned as those fears once more floated to the surface. Something was going on in these talks that he simply didn't understand. Things were being said with so many different meanings and the subtext felt completely disconnected from the text.
"Is it always like this?" he asked.
"Is what like this?"
"Working with them. Working with any politician."
Codrin grinned. "Well, I can certainly confirm that the Odists work in ways that feel distant from what we're used to. Dear will occasionally say something that makes no sense in context, but then a week or two later, I'll realize what it actually meant, or that it was a suggestion that I'd subconsciously started following without really thinking about it."
"They're incredible at reading people," Sarah said. "At least with Dear, I can see it being sort of a positive --- or at worst, playful --- way of influencing. I'm not sure with True Name, and have no idea what Why Ask Questions might be doing otherwise."
Tycho looked to Codrin, who gave him a subtle shake of the head. "Me either," he said at last. "Hell, I have no idea what's going on with them either, other than what Codrin's told me. Have you heard anything else from the delegates back Castor?"
"Just a little bit about language," ey said thoughtfully. "We actually touched on it today with that bit about 'old Nanon', so I'll write em back. I'd asked em a question about the Odists and what their roles had been because I was having a hard time piecing together memories, and ey confirmed that."
"What sort of question?" Sarah asked.
Ey hesitated. "Well, I was asking about the difference between Why Ask Questions and Answers Will Not Help since we've worked with both of them. Ey confirmed that both worked on shaping sentiment, just different areas of expertise. My guess is that if...well, Why Ask Questions were feeling better, she'd have a lot to add to the conversation we had today."
*Wonder how the Artemisians would react to that?* Tycho thought. *True Name was honest, but not enough to bring up this little bit of trickery.*
From *An Expanded Mythology of our World* by May Then My Name Die With Me of the Ode clade

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# Part III --- Intensity # Codrin Bălan#Artemis --- 2346
> *Convergence T-minus 1 day, 2 hours, 32 minutes*
The next note that came from Castor included a block of indecipherable text that was marked as clade-eyes-only for Turun Ka.
Codrin puzzled over this during a private minute in fast time.
Normally, clade-eyes-only or individual-eyes-only text for someone other than the recipient appeared as that header of, for instance, *Bălan Clade-Eyes-Only Material* followed by an indication that such text might be there, but nothing about its contents, including its length or composition. For em, this usually appeared as an ellipsis in square brackets, long-standing traditions of elision being what they were.
This, however, appeared to be text of the type ey'd grown used to in encrypted blocks. Letters, numbers, punctuation, all crammed into a single unbroken chunk. More, some of the characters appeared to be restless. They strained at their form, as though they desperately wanted to be something else, and when ey looked away and back, they were indeed that other form, and some other character nearby would be itching to change, instead.
Clearly, one of the delegates from Castor had instructed the Artemisians on not just how to send text back to Artemis, but how to do so in a private way. Artemis itself, however, couldn't figure out how to represent that, and perhaps that's what clade-eyes-only text might actually be in the perisystem architecture.
Ey recreated the note on a few fresh sheets of paper, eir own message on one and Turun Ka's on another, and headed back to the meeting.
"Leader Turun Ka," ey said, once they were gathered together once more. "I have received a message from your counterpart back on Castor. It is encrypted for your eyes only, though I'm not sure how well that functionality transfers between systems."
The firstracer's head remained still, leaving no clues as to its opinion of this matter, and it gracefully accepted the note that Codrin passed over. It didn't hold it up to see or bow its head to look down at it, so ey figured that as soon as it changed hands, it must have changed its form. Paper, after all, was only a symbol. Letters, words, and written language only signs.
"Thank you, recorder Codrin Bălan. The information is intact."
As ey expected, this was followed up by a blurred meeting of the Artemisian delegates in fast time.
Ey spent the time sneaking glances at True Name and Answers Will Not Help, catching Tycho and Sarah doing the same.
True Name, despite maintaining careful control of her expression, still appeared to be beyond tired. The flickers of her human form came more regularly, now, and, while her appearance as a skunk remained polite, attentive, and receptive, that human face showed only exhaustion.
Answers Will Not Help, however, was a mess.
Her form rippled between species, and with it, so too did her expression. She would veer wildly between barely constrained laughter and agony, all while tears coursed down her cheeks or left tracks in fur. She managed to keep quiet for the most part, though occasionally a snippet of poetry would escape her: here a line of the Ode, there a bit of Dickinson. She had even startled Tycho at one point by quoting something ey didn't quite recognize: "I have sown, like Tycho Brahé, that a greater man may reap..."
This wild dissociation from the world around her was made all the more unnerving by the fact that ey could tell that she was having a difficult time staying within common time.
She never veered far from it, only within a range of point one to either side, but even that carried with it a sense of wrongness. They were in a unison room, something that she had specifically requested, which ey'd been told meant that she specifically *shouldn't* be able to do that. Skew simply wasn't available to em when ey reached for it.
Iska had hardly taken their eyes off her since they'd noticed as well, as though they were trying to puzzle out just how it was that this was happening.
They were only two and a half days into the conference and, while both sides had learned much about the other, ey wondered if they'd even be able to make it to a week.
*Or even the end of today,* ey thought. *Answers Will Not Help looks like she's about to explode.*
"Leader True Name," Turun Ka began, once the delegates had returned to common time. "While I am not able to divulge the contents of the note I have received, it has led to a discussion amongst us, and we would like to ask about your history."
"From the founding of the System?" she asked, voice tight.
"Apologies, leader True Name. We would like to know about your history. You and your cocladist."
Her shoulders sagged. "Would you like information specifically relating to our appearance here on Artemis?"
"This is a good place to begin."
The skunk looked as though she hadn't the faintest idea of where to begin, as though too many thoughts clouded her mind for her to decide.
Codrin nodded toward her, "By your leave, True Name?"
"Please, Mx. Bălan." She sounded quite relieved.
"Prior to the founding of the System two hundred thirty-one years ago, long distance communication and interaction took place over a global network. It worked much as it does here, in that there are designated locations --- sims, a name which has stuck with us --- and we interacted through forms such as these. The origin of our System came about shortly after a brief period of political unrest wherein some political entities released a type of virus into the implanted hardware we used to connect to the 'net. Those who came across too much information relating to this unrest had the virus triggered and were trapped in a vegetative state, locked within their minds." Ey paused and looked to True Name, who nodded. Answers Will Not Help just hugged her arms to her front, looking pale as she silently mouthed some litany ey couldn't guess. "Michelle Hadje, the root instance of the Ode clade, to which True Name and Why Ask Questions belong, was one of these individuals. The lost, they called them. Dear, my partner, is an Odist as well, and mentioned to me beforehand that a malleable sense of time sounded much like what it experienced during that period."
"You are not normally like this," Turun Ka said. A statement rather than a question. "My counterpart on Castor describes you as solely in the form you primarily occupy here, and Why Ask Questions solely in, *lu*...a human form. You are both described as calm, confident, and politically adroit."
True Name winced. "It is uncomfortable for me to be in this state. I am not up to my usual standards."
"This has led-turned-into a situation of unequality-power-dynamic," Turun Ko said, picking up where the leader had left off. "For this we express-offer concern-well-wishes-condolences."
"We are unable, at this point in the convergence, to accept other delegates, or we would offer you greater respite than we have already," Turun Ka finished.
"Thank you for your concern," the skunk said. "I understand your reasoning, and would not wish to miss these discussions. I have trust in Mx. Bălan, Dr. Brahe, and Ms. Genet, however, to share our load."
Both Turun Ka and Turun Ko lifted their heads in assent, the leader adding, "As always, we will strive to make your stay as comfortable as possible."
True Name nodded her thanks.
At a glance from Artante, the Artemisians slid up to fast time for a brief conversation before returning. "We of fourthrace experienced similar prior to the creation of our embedding system. This was the result of a war, a virus targeting a nation that led large sections of the population being affected."
"Were they able to free those who were?"
"Only approximately a quarter. Some three million of my race died from various causes while...lost."
Codrin blinked, leaning back in eir chair. "Three *million?* Good Lord..."
Artante nodded. "Of those who returned, all suffered what representative Sarah Genet has called post-traumatic stress disorder. None were affected such as you, leader True Name and representative Why Ask Questions, but many also experienced chronic episodes of psychosis combined with logorrhea, glossolalia, and graphomania, if I am understanding the terms properly."
Codrin's eyes darted over to Answers Will Not Help --- as, ey noticed, did the rest of the emissaries. She averted her gaze, lips still mouthing countless words. Ey hastened to catch up on the notes ey'd been taking to cover for emself.
"Did any of those affected upload? Or...embed?" True Name asked.
"Of those who did not take their own lives, all--"
"I cannot feel em!" Answers Will Not Help interrupted, nearly shouting. Tears were streaming down her face, now. "I cannot...here...b-beside whom..."
Something akin to anger or fear tore through True Name's exhaustion and she sat bolt upright, glaring down the row of emissaries to Answers Will Not Help. "Why Ask Questions, my dear, please do try to remain present," she said, voice eerily calm, soothing.
The silence at the table was absolute. All delegates on both sides held still, and Codrin suspected that all of the emissaries from Castor were holding their breath. All had experienced the laser-focused wrath of at least one of the Odists in the weeks leading up to the conference.
Answers Will Not Help hunched her shoulders, cowed. Every ounce of control she had remaining seemed to be dedicated to keeping her crying as quiet as possible.
"Leader True Name," Artante asked, voice just as soothing. "You do not need to answer, but may I ask what just happened?"
"I will not answer, representative Artante Diria," she said, voice once more slipping into exhaustion as a wave of human form washed over her features. "It is a private matter between me and my cocladist. My apologies."
The fourthracer bowed her head. "I understand. Would you like to take a break?"
"Perhaps a brief break would be nice," Sarah said, nodding. "We can collect ourselves and move onto a separate aspect of the history of the System."
True Name nodded.
"Your break-respite need not be brief-short," Turun Ko said. "We are capable-of-able-to-permitted-to skew the unison room to allow for longer rests."
"No!" This time, Answers Will Not Help did shout, voice shifting slightly as she slid this way and that away from common time. "Sorry. No, please do not --- motes in the stage-lights --- please do not take time from us. No, no no no, please..."
Iska's expression had steadily grown more and more alarmed throughout the proceedings. "I do not--"
"We will reconvene in fifteen minutes common time," Turun Ka said. Nothing in its voice changed from how it normally spoke, though it having spoke was enough to quell Iska to silence. "Representative Artante Diria, representative Iska, please convene to address this issue moving forward from a psychological and technical standpoint. When we return, we will indeed move on to another subject."
Iska bowed their head in assent.
Answers Will Not Help was sobbing in earnest now, stifling it as best she can with her face hidden behind the notebook she had before her but had yet to touch.
*"I cannot feel em"? Feel who?* Codrin thought, frowning.
Ey leaned forward again to write notes on what had just happened, but before eir pen could touch paper, True Name pulled it slowly but insistently from eir hand.
"Nothing of these happenings is to wind up in writing except that it be sent as a clade-eyes-only letter to the Odists," she said, the words softened by a shaky smile. "I would like to discuss these events with my cocladists, first."
Ey nodded numbly, accepting eir now-capped pen back.
"Now, I would like to lie down during this break. Please accompany me so that I may dictate this letter."
> And so the ark was sent out into the sea of the night, making waves in the black between the stars and leaving a wake of dreams new and old behind it.
From *An Expanded Mythology of our World* by May Then My Name Die With Me of the Ode clade

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# Codrin Bălan#Artemis --- 2346 # Ioan Bălan --- 2346
> *Convergence T-minus 1 day, 2 hours, 32 minutes* > *Convergence T-plus 30 days, 15 hours, 47 minutes*
> *(Castor--Lagrange transmission delay: 30 days, 14 hours, 36 minutes)*
The next note that came from Castor included a block of indecipherable text that was marked as clade-eyes-only for Turun Ka. Ioan#98ae38dc arrived at the appointed coffee shop a good hour in advance. The meeting had been eir idea, but it had also been eir primary source of stress during the day prior to it.
Codrin puzzled over this during a private minute in fast time. The idea of meeting up with True Name in a neutral setting had not gone over as poorly as feared with May. She hadn't been pleased, to be sure, but given the news from Castor, she had accepted that the chance of further contact with her down-tree instance was likely anyway, and had stated that she was unwilling to engage with her further on the point so ey might as well.
Normally, clade-eyes-only or individual-eyes-only text for someone other than the recipient appeared as that header of, for instance, *Bălan Clade-Eyes-Only Material* followed by an indication that such text might be there, but nothing about its contents, including its length or composition. For em, this usually appeared as an ellipsis in square brackets, long-standing traditions of elision being what they were. So, ey had forked, given her double kisses on the cheeks along with #Tracker, and stepped away to sit and fret somewhere where ey'd not be a bother.
This, however, appeared to be text of the type ey'd grown used to in encrypted blocks. Letters, numbers, punctuation, all crammed into a single unbroken chunk. More, some of the characters appeared to be restless. They strained at their form, as though they desperately wanted to be something else, and when ey looked away and back, they were indeed that other form, and some other character nearby would be itching to change, instead. The coffee shop was quite comfortable, familiar from when ey'd first met Dear so many years ago. A cozy affair set in a simulacrum of a small town. Cute shops, gas lamps, brick-paved roads.
Clearly, one of the delegates from Castor had instructed the Artemisians on not just how to send text back to Artemis, but how to do so in a private way. Artemis itself, however, couldn't figure out how to represent that, and perhaps that's what clade-eyes-only text might actually be in the perisystem architecture. Inside, ey staked out an L-shaped couch for their meeting and sat, sipping eir way slowly through first a coffee and then a tea, figuring that eir nerves were jangly enough without the added caffeine.
Ey recreated the note on a few fresh sheets of paper, eir own message on one and Turun Ka's on another, and headed back to the meeting. True Name arrived fifteen minutes before their scheduled meeting, looking far more collected and confident, far more herself, than she had the last time ey'd seen her. She smiled brightly to em, ordered her drink, and then sat primly on the couch across from em, blinking a cone of silence into existence as she did so.
"Leader Turun Ka," ey said, once they were gathered together once more. "I have received a message from your counterpart back on Castor. It is encrypted for your eyes only, though I'm not sure how well that functionality transfers between systems." "Mx. Bălan, thank you for meeting with me. I was surprised --- pleasantly so --- to have received your invitation."
The firstracer's head remained still, leaving no clues as to its opinion of this matter, and it gracefully accepted the note that Codrin passed over. It didn't hold it up to see or bow its head to look down at it, so ey figured that as soon as it changed hands, it must have changed its form. Paper, after all, was only a symbol. Letters, words, and written language only signs. Ey nodded. "Thank you for accepting. I figured it might be nice to have a calmer conversation than our last one. I want to make sure that we stay on at least polite terms as...in-laws of a sort."
"Thank you, recorder Codrin Bălan. The information is intact." There was no shift in the skunk's attentive expression, nor in her posture. She simply nodded and took a few laps of her drink, wiping a dollop of whipped cream from her nose after. "I appreciate that. I understand that our dynamic is complex and that of May Then My Name and I all the more so. We will never be close, you and I, but I can accept that."
As ey expected, this was followed up by a blurred meeting of the Artemisian delegates in fast time. "Right, and I don't want all of our interactions to be stressful."
Ey spent the time sneaking glances at True Name and Answers Will Not Help, catching Tycho and Sarah doing the same. "If you will forgive a bit of small talk, may I ask after your partner's well-being, at least? I understand through intraclade communications that she had...that there was..."
True Name, despite maintaining careful control of her expression, still appeared to be beyond tired. The flickers of her human form came more regularly, now, and, while her appearance as a skunk remained polite, attentive, and receptive, that human face showed only exhaustion. "She wound up overflowing, yeah. She's bounced back well enough for the most part, and we've been back at work."
Answers Will Not Help, however, was a mess. True Name nodded, a hint of a bow. "Thank you, Ioan. It is encouraging to hear. And you are working on a play regarding our visitors on Castor?"
Her form rippled between species, and with it, so too did her expression. She would veer wildly between barely constrained laughter and agony, all while tears coursed down her cheeks or left tracks in fur. She managed to keep quiet for the most part, though occasionally a snippet of poetry would escape her: here a line of the Ode, there a bit of Dickinson. She had even startled Tycho at one point by quoting something ey didn't quite recognize: "I have sown, like Tycho Brahé, that a greater man may reap..." "Bit by bit," ey said. "I add to it every time we get a bit of news. That was another reason I wanted to meet up."
This wild dissociation from the world around her was made all the more unnerving by the fact that ey could tell that she was having a difficult time staying within common time. The calm smile that the skunk had been wearing slipped down into something more businesslike. "Yes. May I ask what information you have received?"
She never veered far from it, only within a range of point one to either side, but even that carried with it a sense of wrongness. They were in a unison room, something that she had specifically requested, which ey'd been told meant that she specifically *shouldn't* be able to do that. Skew simply wasn't available to em when ey reached for it. Ioan pulled the few sheets of folded paper from eir pocket and unfolded them, skimming through the notes. "The talks have begun and sound like they're going well enough on Castor, but that True Name and Why Ask Questions on Artemis are struggling, though they've been working through it as best they can. That's the last I've heard."
Iska had hardly taken their eyes off her since they'd noticed as well, as though they were trying to puzzle out just how it was that this was happening. Ey handed over the letters, already trimmed of clade-eyes-only and other personal information. True Name read through them quickly, nodding.
They were only two and a half days into the conference and, while both sides had learned much about the other, ey wondered if they'd even be able to make it to a week. "We have heard much the same. It was a calculated risk, sending myself and Why Ask Questions rather than a Jonas or someone else less affected by this time skew that they have mentioned."
*Or even the end of today,* ey thought. *Answers Will Not Help looks like she's about to explode.* "It sounds reminiscent of what I saw of Michelle. Certainly unpleasant."
"Leader True Name," Turun Ka began, once the delegates had returned to common time. "While I am not able to divulge the contents of the note I have received, it has led to a discussion amongst us, and we would like to ask about your history." She sat in silence for a few long seconds, both paws wrapped around her wide-brimmed mug of coffee. Her face was impassive and posture unreadable. Even her eyes remained fixed on some spot over eir shoulder, unmoving. She seemed frozen.
"From the founding of the System?" she asked, voice tight. "True Name?"
"Apologies, leader True Name. We would like to know about your history. You and your cocladist." "No," she said at last, her shoulders sagging a fraction of an inch, enough to show some level of exhaustion that had previously been hidden. "It does not sound pleasant."
Her shoulders sagged. "Would you like information specifically relating to our appearance here on Artemis?" "End Waking put it, "when presented with the fragility of eternity once more, I cannot imagine that I would remain sane". None of the Odists I've talked to sound happy about this."
"This is a good place to begin." "We are not," she said. "Ioan, may I ask that we talk about--"
The skunk looked as though she hadn't the faintest idea of where to begin, as though too many thoughts clouded her mind for her to decide. "In a moment, True Name, I promise." Ey took a deep breath, setting eir tea down on the table in front of the couch, turning to face the skunk. "Again, I don't want to leave the air clouded between us, but this is important to me, too. I'm sure you understand."
Codrin nodded toward her, "By your leave, True Name?" She nodded, straightening up as though steeling herself for a coming blow. "I imagine it is. Then yes, it is unpleasant. I do not think that either of my cocladists aboard Artemis are in any imminent danger, but it is bringing uncomfortable memories to the fore."
"Please, Mx. Bălan." She sounded quite relieved. "End Waking said that, too. I have my concerns for your cocladists aboard Artemis, but I'm more worried about these uncomfortable memories cropping up across the clade."
"Prior to the founding of the System two hundred thirty-one years ago, long distance communication and interaction took place over a global network. It worked much as it does here, in that there are designated locations --- sims, a name which has stuck with us --- and we interacted through forms such as these. The origin of our System came about shortly after a brief period of political unrest wherein some political entities released a type of virus into the implanted hardware we used to connect to the 'net. Those who came across too much information relating to this unrest had the virus triggered and were trapped in a vegetative state, locked within their minds." Ey paused and looked to True Name, who nodded. Answers Will Not Help just hugged her arms to her front, looking pale as she silently mouthed some litany ey couldn't guess. "Michelle Hadje, the root instance of the Ode clade, to which True Name and Why Ask Questions belong, was one of these individuals. The lost, they called them. Dear, my partner, is an Odist as well, and mentioned to me beforehand that a malleable sense of time sounded much like what it experienced during that period." "This is about Death Itself and I Do Not Know, is it not?" she asked, voice quiet, tightly controlled.
"You are not normally like this," Turun Ka said. A statement rather than a question. "My counterpart on Castor describes you as solely in the form you primarily occupy here, and Why Ask Questions solely in, *lu*...a human form. You are both described as calm, confident, and politically adroit." Ey nodded.
True Name winced. "It is uncomfortable for me to be in this state. I am not up to my usual standards." The skunk clutched her coffee closer to her chest, as though that might serve to shield her. It certainly felt as though she was struggling not to close herself off from the topic entirely. "We are very old, Ioan, and the implication of eternity has affected us all differently. I am beginning to think that it has less to do with memory than we had all originally suspected, but all the same, we have all begun to struggle through the centuries."
"This has led-turned-into a situation of unequality-power-dynamic," Turun Ko said, picking up where the leader had left off. "For this we express-offer concern-well-wishes-condolences." Ey nodded, but remained silent. She was speaking slowly, and did not appear to have finished.
"We are unable, at this point in the convergence, to accept other delegates, or we would offer you greater respite than we have already," Turun Ka finished. "I did not talk with Death Itself much, and I was never able to speak with I Do Not Know. I did not know them except through observation. I am sorry-- no." She shook her head, frowning. "I was going to say that I am sorry that they are no longer with us, but you know as well as I that this is not some small loss for us to be brushed away with thoughts and prayers, even for those of us who did not speak with them. Sad is not the correct term. I am anxious."
"Thank you for your concern," the skunk said. "I understand your reasoning, and would not wish to miss these discussions. I have trust in Mx. Bălan, Dr. Brahe, and Ms. Genet, however, to share our load." "Anxious of how this madness, as End Waking called it, might affect you and yours?"
Both Turun Ka and Turun Ko lifted their heads in assent, the leader adding, "As always, we will strive to make your stay as comfortable as possible." She nodded, averting her eyes. "I am fucking terrified, Ioan. What am I to do in the face of such enormity?"
True Name nodded her thanks. Ey blinked, taken aback. This was not how ey'd imagined the conversation would go. Ey'd pictured her providing some glib explanation for what was happening and perhaps outlining the steps that she and her close cocladists were taking to control the situation. Ey was expecting her to steer em towards confidence in her, and hopefully even to soothe eir fears about May through doing so.
At a glance from Artante, the Artemisians slid up to fast time for a brief conversation before returning. "We of fourthrace experienced similar prior to the creation of our embedding system. This was the result of a war, a virus targeting a nation that led large sections of the population being affected." This wasn't the True Name ey remembered. Were these her own cracks showing?
"Were they able to free those who were?" Ey prowled through memories of the conversations ey'd had with her over the years --- several, during those first few years after launch, then the rapid decrease after the publication of the *History* --- and tallied up each against the next.
"Only approximately a quarter. Some three million of my race died from various causes while...lost." "You've changed quite a bit, True Name," ey said. "I don't know what you're supposed to do, that's out of my league. All I can say is that you've changed. It looks like it takes you a lot of effort to keep the confidence that used to be so integral to your personality."
Codrin blinked, leaning back in eir chair. "Three *million?* Good Lord..." Ey watched as she bridled, subsided, and nodded. "I am not what I was."
Artante nodded. "Of those who returned, all suffered what representative Sarah Genet has called post-traumatic stress disorder. None were affected such as you, leader True Name and representative Why Ask Questions, but many also experienced chronic episodes of psychosis combined with logorrhea, glossolalia, and graphomania, if I am understanding the terms properly." "What changed?"
Codrin's eyes darted over to Answers Will Not Help --- as, ey noticed, did the rest of the emissaries. She averted her gaze, lips still mouthing countless words. Ey hastened to catch up on the notes ey'd been taking to cover for emself. She shrugged helplessly. "If I knew, perhaps I could fix it, bring back that easy confidence."
"Did any of those affected upload? Or...embed?" True Name asked. The conversation was veering further off-script. The skunk herself was veering far afield from the one ey'd pictured in eir head. "Your counterpart on Castor sounds much the same as I remember. The True Name on Pollux has, from what I hear, wound up in a relationship and started to guide more openly over the last few years."
"Of those who did not take their own lives, all--" Looking down to where she held her mug against her front, True Name blinked rapidly, nodding.
"I cannot feel em!" Answers Will Not Help interrupted, nearly shouting. Tears were streaming down her face, now. "I cannot...here...b-beside whom..." *Tears? Really?* Ey frowned, searching her face and posture for any hint that this was some calculated display of emotion, then chided emself for such cynicism.
Something akin to anger or fear tore through True Name's exhaustion and she sat bolt upright, glaring down the row of emissaries to Answers Will Not Help. "Why Ask Questions, my dear, please do try to remain present," she said, voice eerily calm, soothing. "Is it something about the Lagrange System?" ey asked, hunting for something to fix, helpless to stop emself from doing so. Some anxiety over that lack of control drove em to try and smooth out the situation *somehow*. "Is the culture that different here? Maybe something about the System itself? I'm trying to think of what might be different."
The silence at the table was absolute. All delegates on both sides held still, and Codrin suspected that all of the emissaries from Castor were holding their breath. All had experienced the laser-focused wrath of at least one of the Odists in the weeks leading up to the conference. "I do not know, Ioan." She sniffed, sat up straighter, and smiled tiredly at em. "Again, if I did, perhaps there might be something that I could do to address it. I know what I am --- what I have become --- in comparison to my peers. While I am trying not to view that as a failing, it is...difficult."
Answers Will Not Help hunched her shoulders, cowed. Every ounce of control she had remaining seemed to be dedicated to keeping her crying as quiet as possible. "Something with Jonas, perhaps?"
"Leader True Name," Artante asked, voice just as soothing. "You do not need to answer, but may I ask what just happened?" She winced and looked away, ears pinned flat.
"I will not answer, representative Artante Diria," she said, voice once more slipping into exhaustion as a wave of human form washed over her features. "It is a private matter between me and my cocladist. My apologies." Ey had to resist the urge to reach out and offer her eir hand to hold for comfort as ey did so often with May. They looked so similar, even still, even after centuries of divergence, and all the more so when struggling with overwhelming emotions.
The fourthracer bowed her head. "I understand. Would you like to take a break?" She must have caught some slight movement or hint of this on eir face or in eir posture, as she chuckled. "If I were built more like your May Then My Name, then perhaps I could more easily accept comfort, but I am not. Thank you for listening, though. I cannot talk about these things with Jonas."
"Perhaps a brief break would be nice," Sarah said, nodding. "We can collect ourselves and move onto a separate aspect of the history of the System." Ey laughed, shrugging sheepishly. "Sorry, True Name. Long habit. Still, I'm happy to listen. I know that my relationship puts us in a precarious position relative to each other and there are still some aspects about our history that are...difficult to internalize, but, well--" Ey sat up straighter at a sudden memory. "Hey, have you talked with In Dreams yet? Or this Sarah Genet?"
True Name nodded. "I have spoken with In Dreams, yes," she said, tilting her head. "Though I am not sure in what capacity you mean. She has kept me up to date on the cross-clade issues. I only know the name Sarah Genet from the communications from Castor."
"Your break-respite need not be brief-short," Turun Ko said. "We are capable-of-able-to-permitted-to skew the unison room to allow for longer rests." "Really? I thought that they had been in contact with all of the clade they could," ey said, frowning. "But perhaps that's still in progress. Either way, you mentioned having someone to talk to, and In Dreams has suggested taking a therapeutic approach to this. She and Ms. Genet have been working on setting up a course of therapy sessions for Odists and a few of the other old clades that are struggling. Perhaps that's something that could help. May has an appointment in a few days." Ey hastened to add, "I'm still happy to listen, but I'm hardly trained in that."
"No!" This time, Answers Will Not Help did shout, voice shifting slightly as she slid this way and that away from common time. "Sorry. No, please do not --- motes in the stage-lights --- please do not take time from us. No, no no no, please..." The skunk laughed, and it was difficult to miss the bitter tone in her voice. "I spoke with In Dreams this morning, and had not heard this. Perhaps it is an issue of priority."
Iska's expression had steadily grown more and more alarmed throughout the proceedings. "I do not--" Eir frown deepened.
"We will reconvene in fifteen minutes common time," Turun Ka said. Nothing in its voice changed from how it normally spoke, though it having spoke was enough to quell Iska to silence. "Representative Artante Diria, representative Iska, please convene to address this issue moving forward from a psychological and technical standpoint. When we return, we will indeed move on to another subject." She made a setting-aside gesture that ey'd grown used to from May, as though the topic were unimportant, not worth discussing. "I will contact them. Thank you for suggesting that, Mx. Bălan. Even if they are unwilling to help, it is probably a good idea that I seek out therapy. Lord knows I need it."
Iska bowed their head in assent. Ey nodded, wary to continue. As the silence that followed stretched out, ey retrieved eir tea and sipped it before it grew too cold.
Answers Will Not Help was sobbing in earnest now, stifling it as best she can with her face hidden behind the notebook she had before her but had yet to touch. "Why are you happy to listen to me, Ioan?"
*"I cannot feel em"? Feel who?* Codrin thought, frowning. Ey shook emself from eir own rumination and back to the present. "I'm sorry?"
Ey leaned forward again to write notes on what had just happened, but before eir pen could touch paper, True Name pulled it slowly but insistently from eir hand. True Name smiled. "You said that you were happy to listen to me. Your partner hates me --- let us not mince words: she hates me and I have grown to accept that as best I can. You are close, as partners should be, and you have as much reason to hate me as anyone, and yet you met me here --- asked to meet me here, even --- and say that you are happy to listen. Why?"
"Nothing of these happenings is to wind up in writing except that it be sent as a clade-eyes-only letter to the Odists," she said, the words softened by a shaky smile. "I would like to discuss these events with my cocladists, first." "Oh. Well," ey began, then stalled out. Ey raced through eir memories for a reason ey could articulate. "It was something that Codrin#Castor said. Em and Dear both, actually. Codrin passed on a letter that Codrin#Artemis sent, saying that it has been difficult emotionally to watch what ey remembers from Michelle in your cocladists. When ey mentioned the time skew to it, Dear said to be watchful around your counterpart, saying, 'remember what I said: even True Name has emotions, even she will be affected'."
Ey nodded numbly, accepting eir now-capped pen back. The skunk sat back, looking stunned, then choked out a half-laugh-half-sob, setting her mug down on the table so that she could rub her paws firmly over her face, leaving them to cover it. "Even I have emotions. Even I!" she said between deep breaths. "I know that your cocladist and Dear meant well by this, but how damning an indictment. *Even I.*"
"Now, I would like to lie down during this break. Please accompany me so that I may dictate this letter." "I'm sorry, True Name."
She shook her head, took a moment to regain her composure, and said, "No, I suppose I do, at that. It is difficult to remember even from the inside, my dear. Thank you for reminding me, and thank you for listening."
The skunk reached out a paw toward em and, after a moment's hesitation, ey took it and gave it what ey hoped was a comforting squeeze. Ey was once more startled by the similarity of her to May: the softness of her fur, the satiny feel of her pads, those well-kept claws.
She laughed and shook her head, pulling her paw back. "How silly. I believe I stand by my assessment that comfort through physicality is not for me, but thank you all the same. That you have the capacity to comfort...well, even me does mean a lot, Mx. Bălan. I appreciate your empathy."
Ey smiled cautiously. "Worth a try, I suppose."
"Yes. Worth a try." She stood slowly and gave a hint of a bow. "I have much to think about, Mx. Bălan, and a message to send to Ms. Genet. Please spend some quality time with your partner tonight, and I hope to see you in the future."
"Of course. Until next time."
She bowed again and stepped from the sim, leaving em to sit on the couch and finish eir tea, mulling over the differences between changing and forgetting. Without forgetting, all True Name had, all they *all* had, was the ability to change, and all they could do was hope that this would be enough to keep them all sane.

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# Ioan Bălan --- 2346 # Ioan Bălan --- 2346
> *Convergence T-plus 30 days, 15 hours, 47 minutes* > *Convergence T-plus 33 days, 15 hours, 39 minutes*
> *(Castor--Lagrange transmission delay: 30 days, 14 hours, 36 minutes)* > *(Castor--Lagrange transmission delay: 30 days, 14 hours, 36 minutes)*
Ioan#98ae38dc arrived at the appointed coffee shop a good hour in advance. The meeting had been eir idea, but it had also been eir primary source of stress during the day prior to it. Depression, Ioan had long known but struggled to internalize, was fundamentally different from sadness, just as it was different from May's overwhelming waves of emotions.
The idea of meeting up with True Name in a neutral setting had not gone over as poorly as feared with May. She hadn't been pleased, to be sure, but given the news from Castor, she had accepted that the chance of further contact with her down-tree instance was likely anyway, and had stated that she was unwilling to engage with her further on the point so ey might as well. Ey was confronted with it now, forced to see the way the emotion --- or non-emotion, as May put it --- affected one on a more fundamental level than anything so simple as sadness could hope to. Those overwhelming waves, as the one she'd just recovered from, were fundamental in their own way, but far, far less existential.
So, ey had forked, given her double kisses on the cheeks along with #Tasker, and stepped away to sit and fret somewhere where ey'd not be a bother. It was bound by the cycle of the day, and so Ioan and May would spend their mornings strategizing their evenings, ensuring that they were able to have as pleasant a time as that ashen feeling May described would allow, to work as well as they could manage through that fog.
The coffee shop was quite comfortable, familiar from when ey'd first met Dear so many years ago. A cozy affair set in a simulacrum of a small town. Cute shops, gas lamps, brick-paved roads. "We are not unfamiliar with it, Ioan," A Finger Pointing had said when, after watching Death Itself and I Do Not Know quit, May's countenance grew duller and duller, and the skunk spoke less and less. "We know depression from the embodied world, and it comes up every now and then for each of us here, too."
Inside, ey staked out an L-shaped couch for their meeting and sat, sipping eir way slowly through first a coffee and then a tea, figuring that eir nerves were jangly enough without the added caffeine. "Even True Name, I suppose," ey had said, describing the conversation ey'd had with her.
True Name arrived fifteen minutes before their scheduled meeting, looking far more collected and confident, far more herself, than she had the last time ey'd seen her. She smiled brightly to em, ordered her drink, and then sat primly on the couch across from em, blinking a cone of silence into existence as she did so. She had nodded. "It will pass, and we will make the shows work, my dear. Keep her company and be good to her, and you need not worry."
"Mx. Bălan, thank you for meeting with me. I was surprised --- pleasantly so --- to have received your invitation." Some dark look must have crossed eir face at which the director had shaken her head and hugged em. "Do not worry about that, Ioan. There is no death in her, I am sure of that. I am sorry that there are no easy ways to explain it, but I promise that what I expect she is feeling is separate from what our cocladists felt."
Ey nodded. "Thank you for accepting. I figured it might be nice to have a calmer conversation than our last one. I want to make sure that we stay on at least polite terms as...in-laws of a sort." When presented with this along with eir anxious expression, the skunk had laughed and tousled eir hair. "She is right, my dear. It feels uncomfortable at best, bad at worst, but only ever bad. I am simply a bit crashy after a little too much all at once."
There was no shift in the skunk's attentive expression, nor in her posture. She simply nodded and took a few laps of her drink, wiping a dollop of whipped cream from her nose after. "I appreciate that. I understand that our dynamic is complex and that of May Then My Name and I all the more so. We will never be close, you and I, but I can accept that." So for the last few days, they'd strategized in the mornings and then done what they could in the evenings. Scenes in plays were reworked for understudies, dinner menus shifted towards comfort foods, temperatures and weather adjusted, old comfort-hobbies dredged up from the past --- the skunk had been littering the house with origami figures. Ey'd even tried reading aloud to her, her with her head parked on eir chest and em with a book held above them. This had gone over well, and ey had that on the menu for later in the evening after dinner.
"Right, and I don't want all of our interactions to be stressful." Today still held the first meeting with Sarah Genet, however, so ey focused on making a good breakfast, and spending a bit of time relaxing on the porch swing with May, giving her pets and quiet company.
"If you will forgive a bit of small talk, may I ask after your partner's well-being, at least? I understand through intraclade communications that she had...that there was..." "How are you feeling about this?" ey asked, voice muffled. May had requested a brushing of her tail, which meant a face full of fluff.
"She wound up overflowing, yeah. She's bounced back well enough for the most part, and we've been back at work." "I do not know. I am anxious. I am trying to keep up that sense of hopefulness that I had when we began planning this, but the anxiety is getting in the way."
True Name nodded, a hint of a bow. "Thank you, Ioan. It is encouraging to hear. And you are working on a play regarding our visitors on Castor?" Ey tamped down the urge to ask what the anxiety was over, knowing that the answer would likely be *I do not know* or *nothing* --- rightly so, for eir own anxiety often seemed to have no basis in reality. Instead, ey asked, "Do you want me to be there with you?"
"Bit by bit," ey said. "I add to it every time we get a bit of news. That was another reason I wanted to meet up." May scooted down a little on the swing, enough to get her arms around eir middle. "Please. It is just an initial meeting, I do not imagine there will be any need for privacy."
The calm smile that the skunk had been wearing slipped down into something more businesslike. "Yes. May I ask what information you have received?" "No deep, dark secrets, then?"
Ioan pulled the few sheets of folded paper from eir pocket and unfolded them, skimming through the notes. "The talks have begun and sound like they're going well enough on Castor, but that True Name and Why Ask Questions on Artemis are struggling, though they've been working through it as best they can. That's the last I've heard." There was a muffled laugh from where the skunk had planted her face against eir belly. "I do not know that I have any of those from you, my dear."
Ey handed over the letters, already trimmed of clade-eyes-only and other personal information. True Name read through them quickly, nodding. "Other than the obvious."
"We have heard much the same. It was a calculated risk, sending myself and Why Ask Questions rather than a Jonas or someone else less affected by this time skew that they have mentioned." May stayed quiet, shifting the rest of the way so that she could lay her head on eir lap, looking off into the yard. Finally, she murmured, "We will need to talk about that at some point, Sarah and I. The pressure surrounding it is building."
"It sounds reminiscent of what I saw of Michelle. Certainly unpleasant." This did not seem to be an open conversation, so ey nodded, settling into silence with eir partner.
She sat in silence for a few long seconds, both paws wrapped around her wide-brimmed mug of coffee. Her face was impassive and posture unreadable. Even her eyes remained fixed on some spot over eir shoulder, unmoving. She seemed frozen. Sarah arrived an hour later, a quiet knock at the door accompanying the sensorium ping of her arrival.
"True Name?" May had melted into a beanbag when they'd come back inside and was folding paper crane after paper crane from a bottomless stack of origami paper, so Ioan capped eir pen and slid eir project into a drawer of eir desk. The skunk studiously avoided eir gaze, the tightness of her expression showing anxiety with tears near at hand.
"No," she said at last, her shoulders sagging a fraction of an inch, enough to show some level of exhaustion that had previously been hidden. "It does not sound pleasant." "Mx. Bălan?" the psychologist said, bowing. "Nice to meet you."
"End Waking put it, "when presented with the fragility of eternity once more, I cannot imagine that I would remain sane". None of the Odists I've talked to sound happy about this." "And you, Ms. Genet." Ey stood aside, gesturing toward the hall. "Please, come inside."
"We are not," she said. "Ioan, may I ask that we talk about--" "Just Sarah is fine." Smiling kindly to em, she nodded and stepped inside. She seemed to be taking the sight of their home in with some deeper understanding than ey could grasp. Ey wondered just how much she could tell by how clean or messy a place might be, and thanked past-Ioan for cleaning up quite well after breakfast.
"In a moment, True Name, I promise." Ey took a deep breath, setting eir tea down on the table in front of the couch, turning to face the skunk. "Again, I don't want to leave the air clouded between us, but this is important to me, too. I'm sure you understand." The skunk had finished her crane and levered herself out of her beanbag by the time they made it to the den. She was standing by the kitchen table, paws folded before her and ears perked up, looking polite and attentive, though Ioan could still read the exhaustion in her face.
She nodded, straightening up as though steeling herself for a coming blow. "I imagine it is. Then yes, it is unpleasant. I do not think that either of my cocladists aboard Artemis are in any imminent danger, but it is bringing uncomfortable memories to the fore." "May Then My Name Die With Me," Sarah said, bowing once more. "A pleasure to meet you at last. Thank you for helping to organize this project."
"End Waking said that, too. I have my concerns for your cocladists aboard Artemis, but I'm more worried about these uncomfortable memories cropping up across the clade." "Please, just May Then My Name." She returned the bow, cleared her throat. "Thank you for going along with it. It will be a large one, and I-- *we* appreciate all the help we can get."
"This is about Death Itself and I Do Not Know, is it not?" she asked, voice quiet, tightly controlled. They sat down around three sides of the dining table. The skunk surprised em by ensuring that ey, rather than her, sat across from the woman.
"So, there's no real agenda today other than to just get to know each other. No hard topics or anything, just chatting. Stuff like that helps me get used to how you communicate." Sarah nodded toward May. "Though I would like to know how you're feeling."
"Tired." The skunk looked down at the table where her claw-tips traced wood-grain. "Quite tired. I am not feeling myself currently, forgive me."
"That's alright. There's been an awful lot going on, from the sounds of it." Sarah shifted gears smoothly away from the topic of current events, asking instead, "I know you two are in theatre, from what you've said. What all does that entail, though? I haven't been to a play or anything since university before uploading."
May smiled weakly. "Lots of work. We share jobs from start to finish. There are more of us working as stage hands and crew than there are working as actors. Ioan even writes many of our plays."
"I guess that means you both know your way around the craft better than most, since you have to keep all of that in your heads. I'm curious, though; what all goes into the crew side? Are you also...what's the term. Stage managers? Techs?" Sarah shrugged, looking almost embarrassed at her lack of knowledge. "Lights? Sound?"
At the word 'sound', a stricken look washed over the skunk's face. She sat, rigid, in her chair for a moment before shaking her head, the movement jerky and uneven. "I...I will leave...I will leave Ioan to answer that."
Alarmed at the sudden change in her demeanor, Ioan looked between May and Sarah, the latter's face set in an expression of concern.
"May?" ey asked quietly.
"You must...you must forgive me. I have to...lay down. Or something." She swallowed several times in a row, as she always seemed to do when holding back tears.
The skunk stood and swayed, clutching at the edge of the table hard enough for claws to dent the wood.
"Of course, May Then My Name. Would you like to meet another--"
"Please discuss with Ioan," she whispered, eyes clenched shut.
Ioan forked quickly, the new instance taking May by the elbow and guiding her carefully toward the bedroom, leaving #Tracker and Sarah to sit in stunned silence, watching them leave.
There was a brief sensorium message, a few quiet words from eir fork, and ey nodded. "She panicked for a moment but is just going to disengage for a bit. She says to carry on since you and I might as well get to know each other, too. She'll reschedule for the near future."
"Alright," Sarah said, still frowning. "I know I said just chat, but I don't think I can just let that go. Can you explain what just happened?"
Ey sighed, nodded, and rubbed eir palms against eir slacks. "She will wind up getting overwhelmed by emotion sometimes, once every six months or so. It'll take her out for a few days then pass. She just got through one not too long ago --- I think she contacted you the day after she got back."
"So this is another bout?"
"No, I don't think so. She's been kind of depressed over the last few days, which is different than when she overflows. She says it's not uncommon for her to 'crash' after really big events. She slows down and has a hard time enjoying things, which I suspect is common with depression. But also, little things will trigger large emotional reactions."
Sarah nodded. "That makes sense, at least. 'Trigger' is probably the right word, there. That certainly looked like a trauma response. One she was trying very hard to control, of course, but I could almost see the adrenaline rush through her."
"There's been quite a bit of trauma of late, with her cocladists quitting."
"Very much so, yes."
Ey rubbed at eir eyes. They were burning, though whether from exhaustion or eir own emotions, ey couldn't tell. "I have no clue what was the trigger there, though."
Sarah waved her hand. "She and I will talk that through, it's alright. How are you doing, though?"
"Me?" Ey frowned. Talking with a therapist had never been on the table for em through this whole endeavor, but ey was so wrapped up in it now... "I'm stressed. I'm tired and stressed and feeling like I'm just fumbling in the dark to find something that will keep May safe."
"I'd be surprised if you weren't stressed, honestly," she said. A blink, a cone of silence fell around them. "Aliens visit one of the LVs and both your clades get wrapped up in it almost immediately, and then her cocladists quit in the midst of all those overwhelming emotions. There's a lot on the table here. Do you worry she won't be safe?"
Ioan shrugged helplessly. "I trust her when she says she's not in any danger of anything like that and that she's doing her best to stay grounded, but that doesn't stop me from worrying."
"That's part of being in love, I think."
A pang of that love tugged at em. Sarah must have seen it on eir face, as she smiled sympathetically to em.
"I don't do well with loss. That's why I'm here, really. On the System, I mean," ey said, then recounted eir and May's previous conversations about the death of eir parents and how that factored into eir anxieties.
The conversation wound around from there. Ey could tell that Sarah was guiding it gently, giving careful nudges toward positive topics when the heavier ones began to loom too near, but always keeping it productive, substantive. It was, ey realized, the sort of mirror image of what ey'd seen from much of May's clade. Subtle influencing borne out of years of reading and responding to the actions, words, and expressions of another. Rather than aiming to control, however, Sarah seemed to be doing all she could to keep the control in eir hands, acting almost as a tool for em to use to examine emself, though far more human that that made it sound.
It was refreshing. Too many Odists over the last twenty years, perhaps.
"Well," Sarah said when they'd reached a lull in the conversation. "I should probably get going so that I can give you guys some space. I'll be in touch though, okay? I'll make sure to catch up with May Then My Name when she's feeling a bit better."
Ey nodded gratefully. "Thank you. This has been good for me, as well, so hopefully we can have the chance to talk again, too."
"Of course. Some of my appointments with her will involve you as well, but I'm also happy working with just you, too. Scheduling is certainly less of a constraint here on the System." She hesitated before adding, "Though for that, I may keep a separate fork for privacy's sake."
"Right, of course." Ey stood when she did, walking with her down the hall to the door. "By the way, have you been in touch with True Name? The Only Time I Know My True Name Is When I Dream?"
"Yes. She got in touch with me yesterday, and we have our own appointment scheduled. Why do you ask?"
Ey hesitated a moment, unsure of whether to divulge the fact that In Dreams seemed to have decided not to connect the two. "I'm worried about her," ey said eventually. "I just wanted to make sure she's also working with someone."
Sarah turned in the entryway, looking at em searchingly. "You know, back phys-side, I was your cocladist's partner's therapist, and we've stayed friends since uploading. They all but forced me to read the *History*. From what I could tell, your relationship with True Name did not seem to be one that included you worrying about her."
"She's changed a lot," ey said, speaking slowly as ey tried to puzzle out eir growing empathy for the other skunk --- along with the fact that this was a thing that needed puzzling out. "She's been looking rough, lately, and even for someone I have a complicated relationship with, it's tough to watch."
"That I can understand. Does she look like May Then My Name? A furry?"
Ey nodded. Ey nodded.
The skunk clutched her coffee closer to her chest, as though that might serve to shield her. It certainly felt as though she was struggling not to close herself off from the topic entirely. "We are very old, Ioan, and the implication of eternity has affected us all differently. I am beginning to think that it has less to do with memory than we had all originally suspected, but all the same, we have all begun to struggle through the centuries." "That probably helps, too." She shook her head. "Anyway, I should be going for real, now. I'll be in touch to see about talking with you more soon, alright?"
Ey nodded, but remained silent. She was speaking slowly, and did not appear to have finished. "Of course," ey said, bowing. "Thanks again. I think I needed that more than I knew."
"I did not talk with Death Itself much, and I was never able to speak with I Do Not Know. I did not know them except through observation. I am sorry-- no." She shook her head, frowning. "I was going to say that I am sorry that they are no longer with us, but you know as well as I that this is not some small loss for us to be brushed away with thoughts and prayers, even for those of us who did not speak with them. Sad is not the correct term. I am anxious." Back in their room, May and eir other instance were sitting cross-legged on the bed, the skunk trying for the dozenth time to teach em how to fold a paper crane.
"Anxious of how this madness, as End Waking called it, might affect you and yours?" Both looked up when ey entered and, though her cheeks still showed the marks of tears, ey was pleased to see May smiling.
She nodded, averting her eyes. "I am fucking terrified, Ioan. What am I to do in the face of such enormity?" Eir fork quit and as ey let the memories of the last hour settle into place, ey climbed into bed to take eir spot.
Ey blinked, taken aback. This was not how ey'd imagined the conversation would go. Ey'd pictured her providing some glib explanation for what was happening and perhaps outlining the steps that she and her close cocladists were taking to control the situation. Ey was expecting her to steer em towards confidence in her, and hopefully even to soothe eir fears about May through doing so. "I am sorry, my dear," the skunk said, leaning forward to dot her nose against eirs. "Thank you for all of your help through that, both in here and out there."
This wasn't the True Name ey remembered. Were these her own cracks showing? "Of course, May. Feeling better?"
Ey prowled through memories of the conversations ey'd had with her over the years --- several, during those first few years after launch, then the rapid decrease after the publication of the *History* --- and tallied up each against the next. She nodded, held up her paper crane, the bottom pinched between fingers, and tugged at its tail, making the wings flap. "I have been making things."
"You've changed quite a bit, True Name," ey said. "I don't know what you're supposed to do, that's out of my league. All I can say is that you've changed. It looks like it takes you a lot of effort to keep the confidence that used to be so integral to your personality." "Other than a mess, you mean?"
Ey watched as she bridled, subsided, and nodded. "I am not what I was." Ey winced and laughed as the origami bird hit em in the face.
"What changed?" "I will have you know that all of the messy ones are your doing, Mx. Ioan Bălan," she said primly. "Mine are perfectly neat and orderly."
She shrugged helplessly. "If I knew, perhaps I could fix it, bring back that easy confidence." Still grinning, ey ruffled a hand through her headfur, tugging affectionately at an ear. "Right, right. Just like you."
The conversation was veering further off-script. The skunk herself was veering far afield from the one ey'd pictured in eir head. "Your counterpart on Castor sounds much the same as I remember. The True Name on Pollux has, from what I hear, wound up in a relationship and started to guide more openly over the last few years." She chirped and tilted her head toward eir hand. "Did you have a good therapy session, my dear?"
Looking down to where she held her mug against her front, True Name blinked rapidly, nodding. Ey nodded. "I did. I wasn't expecting it, but it was helpful. Sarah says she'll be in touch to meet again soon."
*Tears? Really?* Ey frowned, searching her face and posture for any hint that this was some calculated display of emotion, then chided emself for such cynicism. "Alright. I will not apologize again, but I do still feel bad for how I acted."
"Is it something about the Lagrange System?" ey asked, hunting for something to fix, helpless to stop emself from doing so. Some anxiety over that lack of control drove em to try and smooth out the situation *somehow*. "Is the culture that different here? Maybe something about the System itself? I'm trying to think of what might be different." "Shush, you're fine. I think she, of all people, understands a reaction like that." Ey picked up another square of paper from the stack and began trying to fold again. "But that's enough talk of that for now. If you want dinner, you have to help me get at least one of these made."
"I do not know, Ioan." She sniffed, sat up straighter, and smiled tiredly at em. "Again, if I did, perhaps there might be something that I could do to address it. I know what I am --- what I have become --- in comparison to my peers. While I am trying not to view that as a failing, it is...difficult."
"Something with Jonas, perhaps?"
She winced and looked away, ears pinned flat.
Ey had to resist the urge to reach out and offer her eir hand to hold for comfort as ey did so often with May. They looked so similar, even still, even after centuries of divergence, and all the more so when struggling with overwhelming emotions.
She must have caught some slight movement or hint of this on eir face or in eir posture, as she chuckled. "If I were built more like your May Then My Name, then perhaps I could more easily accept comfort, but I am not. Thank you for listening, though. I cannot talk about these things with Jonas."
Ey laughed, shrugging sheepishly. "Sorry, True Name. Long habit. Still, I'm happy to listen. I know that my relationship puts us in a precarious position relative to each other and there are still some aspects about our history that are...difficult to internalize, but, well--" Ey sat up straighter at a sudden memory. "Hey, have you talked with In Dreams yet? Or this Sarah Genet?"
"I have spoken with In Dreams, yes," she said, tilting her head. "Though I am not sure in what capacity you mean. She has kept me up to date on the cross-clade issues. I only know the name Sarah Genet from the communications from Castor."
"Really? I thought that they had been in contact with all of the clade they could," ey said, frowning. "But perhaps that's still in progress. Either way, you mentioned having someone to talk to, and In Dreams has suggested taking a therapeutic approach to this. She and Ms. Genet have been working on setting up a course of therapy sessions for Odists and a few of the other old clades that are struggling. Perhaps that's something that could help. May has an appointment in a few days." Ey hastened to add, "I'm still happy to listen, but I'm hardly trained in that."
The skunk laughed, and it was difficult to miss the bitter tone in her voice. "I spoke with In Dreams this morning, and had not heard this. Perhaps it is an issue of priority."
Eir frown deepened.
She made a setting-aside gesture that ey'd grown used to from May, as though the topic were unimportant, not worth discussing. "I will contact them. Thank you for suggesting that, Mx. Bălan. Even if they are unwilling to help, it is probably a good idea that I seek out therapy. Lord knows I need it."
Ey nodded, wary to continue. As the silence that followed stretched out, ey retrieved eir tea and sipped it before it grew too cold.
"Why are you happy to listen to me, Ioan?"
Ey shook emself from eir own rumination and back to the present. "I'm sorry?"
True Name smiled. "You said that you were happy to listen to me. Your partner hates me --- let us not mince words: she hates me and I have grown to accept that as best I can. You are close, as partners should be, and you have as much reason to hate me as anyone, and yet you met me here --- asked to meet me here, even --- and say that you are happy to listen. Why?"
"Oh. Well," ey began, then stalled out. Ey raced through eir memories for a reason ey could articulate. "It was something that Codrin#Castor said. Em and Dear both, actually. Codrin passed on a letter that Codrin#Artemis sent, saying that it has been difficult emotionally to watch what ey remembers from Michelle in your cocladists. When ey mentioned the time skew to it, Dear said to be watchful around your counterpart, saying, 'remember what I said: even True Name has emotions, even she will be affected'."
The skunk sat back, looking stunned, then choked out a half-laugh-half-sob, setting her mug down on the table so that she could rub her paws firmly over her face, leaving them to cover it. "Even I have emotions. Even I!" she said between deep breaths. "I know that your cocladist and Dear meant well by this, but how damning an indictment. *Even I.*"
"I'm sorry, True Name."
She shook her head, took a moment to regain her composure, and said, "No, I suppose I do, at that. It is difficult to remember even from the inside, my dear. Thank you for reminding me, and thank you for listening."
The skunk reached out a paw toward em and, after a moment's hesitation, ey took it and gave it what ey hoped was a comforting squeeze. Ey was once more startled by the similarity of her to May: the softness of her fur, the satiny feel of her pads, those well-kept claws.
She laughed and shook her head, pulling her paw back. "How silly. I believe I stand by my assessment that comfort through physicality is not for me, but thank you all the same. That you have the capacity to comfort...well, even me does mean a lot, Mx. Bălan. I appreciate your empathy."
Ey smiled cautiously. "Worth a try, I suppose."
"Yes. Worth a try." She stood slowly and gave a hint of a bow. "I have much to think about, Mx. Bălan, and a message to send to Ms. Genet. Please spend some quality time with your partner tonight, and I hope to see you in the future."
"Of course. Until next time."
She bowed again and stepped from the sim, leaving em to sit on the couch and finish eir tea, mulling over the differences between changing and forgetting. Without forgetting, all True Name had, all they *all* had, was the ability to change, and all they could do was hope that this would be enough to keep them all sane.

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# Ioan Bălan --- 2346 # Ioan Bălan --- 2346
> *Convergence T-plus 33 days, 15 hours, 39 minutes* > *Convergence T-plus 72 days, 23 hours, 48 minutes*
> *(Castor--Lagrange transmission delay: 30 days, 14 hours, 36 minutes)* > *(Lagrange--Pollux transmission delay: 30 days, 14 hours, 41 minutes)*
Depression, Ioan had long known but struggled to internalize, was fundamentally different from sadness, just as it was different from May's overwhelming waves of emotions. Ioan,
Ey was confronted with it now, forced to see the way the emotion --- or non-emotion, as May put it --- affected one on a more fundamental level than anything so simple as sadness could hope to. Those overwhelming waves, as the one she'd just recovered from, were fundamental in their own way, but far, far less existential. I must admit, I'm really not sure what to say about all of this. Thank you for waiting until you have a substantial amount to send to me, at least. Dear threw a little tantrum about this "We have received messages over the last few days" bit, but I appreciate having an initial digest to work with so that I'm not left a fretting mess (as you say you were) by the simple news that, oh look, aliens! I threatened to bundle it up in blankets until it was immobile for a few hours, though, and it calmed down. I may do so anyway.
It was bound by the cycle of the day, and so Ioan and May would spend their mornings strategizing their evenings, ensuring that they were able to have as pleasant a time as that ashen feeling May described would allow, to work as well as they could manage through that fog. Four races! Five thousand years! One language! Have you learned any of that, yourself? And yet maybe it's all a dream! Truly fascinating. As you can imagine, Dear latched onto that quite quickly.
"We are not unfamiliar with it, Ioan," A Finger Pointing had said when, after watching Death Itself and I Do Not Know quit, May's countenance grew duller and duller, and the skunk spoke less and less. "We know depression from the embodied world, and it comes up every now and then for each of us here, too." How is May Then My Name taking it? You mention True Name, but have you heard from any other Odists? Any other friends? If Lagrange is anything like Pollux, people are talking about little else.
"Even True Name, I suppose," ey had said, describing the conversation ey'd had with her. The news broke over here much as it sounds as though it did on Lagrange: with tightly controlled excitement. There is no doubt that the powers that be continue their work across all three Systems, but it's always fascinating to see. The amount of bafflement was outweighed by the amount of excitement. The excitement also outweighed the amount of fear. Everyone's eager for every scrap of news that they can get.
She had nodded. "It will pass, and we will make the shows work, my dear. Keep her company and be good to her, and you need not worry." How much of the delay in sending word to us was due to True Name and her friends? I imagine she had words about the first message, at least, but a whole week's worth of messages feels like a good deal must have been going on.
Some dark look must have crossed eir face at which the director had shaken her head and hugged em. "Do not worry about that, Ioan. There is no death in her, I am sure of that. I am sorry that there are no easy ways to explain it, but I promise that what I expect she is feeling is separate from what our cocladists felt." No matter, though. We're all eagerly awaiting every little snippet that we can get from you. I know that you won't get this for another, what, 30? 31? And that a month from when you sent it! I know you won't get it for a while, is what I'm saying, but please know that you're free to pass on information directly from here on out! We'll be learning plenty from the news we're allowed to see over here, anyway, so any juicy tidbits in addition to that will be greatly appreciated.
When presented with this along with eir anxious expression, the skunk had laughed and tousled eir hair. "She is right, my dear. It feels uncomfortable at best, bad at worst, but only ever bad. I am simply a bit crashy after a little too much all at once." I am continually confronted with the ways in which we have diverged. May Then My Name and Dear#Castor mentioned how upset they were by the idea of time manipulation, but my Dear...well, it did not seem pleased with the idea, but its reaction was not nearly so visceral. It simply got a sour look on its face and said *"I do not like the idea of a place where I cannot fork. Can you imagine a place so boring?"*
So for the last few days, they'd strategized in the mornings and then done what they could in the evenings. Scenes in plays were reworked for understudies, dinner menus shifted towards comfort foods, temperatures and weather adjusted, old comfort-hobbies dredged up from the past --- the skunk had been littering the house with origami figures. Ey'd even tried reading aloud to her, her with her head parked on eir chest and em with a book held above them. This had gone over well, and ey had that on the menu for later in the evening after dinner. **BĂLAN CLADE-EYES-ONLY MATERIAL**
Today still held the first meeting with Sarah Genet, however, so ey focused on making a good breakfast, and spending a bit of time relaxing on the porch swing with May, giving her pets and quiet company. The last few years have seen a drastic reduction in the amount of times that Dear has overflowed. I don't know if ey's been passing on every instance from Castor, or if you have been passing on every letter in turn, but it sounds like the same is true of Dear#Castor as well, for which I'm thankful.
"How are you feeling about this?" ey asked, voice muffled. May had requested a brushing of her tail, which meant a face full of fluff. I'm sorry to hear about May Then My Name, though. Discussion of 'cracks showing' always seems to crop up whenever one of our loved ones goes through a rough period such as this, and your news spurred a conversation between the three of us plus Serene, and despite the relative quiescence of Dear's symptoms, such as they are, we have noticed an uptick of oddities in Odists over here, as well. Not just Odists, of course, but a few of the older clades. Hell, a Jonas even went haywire a few weeks back.
"I do not know. I am anxious. I am trying to keep up that sense of hopefulness that I had when we began planning this, but the anxiety is getting in the way." Still, I'm happy to hear that everyone's tallies are lining up well: far fewer old clades over here are experiencing such symptoms than feared after the publication of *Perils*, for which just about everyone is happy. No one wants to deal with an impending burden of insanity on one's two hundredth birthday, so to hear that it's only a fraction and that maybe there's something that can be done (or so we hear; has there been news of psychotherapy as a treatment over there? I've been hearing whispers) has kept the population at large from freaking out. I imagine you have it worse, though, given the relative skew towards dispersionistas on the LVs; I bet early taskers are freaking out.
Ey tamped down the urge to ask what the anxiety was over, knowing that the answer would likely be *I do not know* or *nothing* --- rightly so, for eir own anxiety often seemed to have no basis in reality. Instead, ey asked, "Do you want me to be there with you?" Either way, Ioan, I am concerned for you and your partner. Our lives are informed by trauma, and the trauma that we hold in particular leads to a sort of conservatism that is particularly focused on our loved ones. I know that you want nothing more than to see May Then My Name continue to thrive, and I know that seeing her struggle is incredibly painful as it touches on the roots of those very same traumas. I know that the two of you will make it through alright, but, as this is in the clade-eyes-only section, do remember to keep yourself safe. You have Douglas. You have Debarre and End Waking (are they back together? Please say yes). You have A Finger Pointing. You have so many delightful friends I've yet to even meet and some I'll have have the chance to. When you need, nudge May Then My Name to her support network and lean on your own.
May scooted down a little on the swing, enough to get her arms around eir middle. "Please. It is just an initial meeting, I do not imagine there will be any need for privacy." **IOAN BĂLAN INDIVIDUAL-EYES-ONLY MATERIAL**
"No deep, dark secrets, then?" The following is in strict confidence with you and you alone, Ioan. I've received permission to share from all parties involved.
There was a muffled laugh from where the skunk had planted her face against eir belly. "I do not know that I have any of those from you, my dear." I don't know how much of Codrin#Castor and my messages between each other that you've read, or if that would even have helped, but watching the slow individuation of a loved one is an experience unique even from watching oneself individuate. The Dear I am in love with feels much like the Dear I fell in love with decades ago, and yet slowly the Dear on Castor begins to feel like a stranger to me.
"Other than the obvious." Dear#Castor sounds so much more conservative --- in its approach to life, of course, rather than that of the division of the Odists --- than what I've grown used to. The prairie remains the same. The house remains the same. Codrin#Castor's struggles with agency and directedness in life feel as unfamiliar to me as you have mentioned. You have taken control of your life as I have taken control of my own, each in our own way. To put this on the Odists feels at once unfair, unfortunate, and totally accurate. May Then My Name has changed you in so many irreversible ways, just as Dear changed me so many years ago. Changed you, too, for when we merged and then diverged, you were no longer the same Ioan that remained behind. You were the type of Ioan who could fall in love with May Then My Name in the first place.
May stayed quiet, shifting the rest of the way so that she could lay her head on eir lap, looking off into the yard. Finally, she murmured, "We will need to talk about that at some point, Sarah and I. The pressure surrounding it is building." So when Dear gave up the prairie and dragged Serene over to build out our little world into something grander, a place more well-rounded than just flat plains, we were both ready because, hey, this was Dear, right? So we built out our little world of plains and hills, forests and lakes. And then that spur-of-the-moment shift redirected our lives in unforeseen ways. With the acceptance of variety, Serene moved in to continue her work, and then her elliptical orbit passed through our lives for a while before she drifted away again.
This did not seem to be an open conversation, so ey nodded, settling into silence with eir partner. Despite lingering taboo, I am not ashamed of having wound up, for that one short year, in a relationship with two members of the same clade. None of us are; not even Dear and Serene, they promise us. It's not shame that keeps me from telling those on Castor about this. It is the completely alien way that those who feel as though they ought to *be* us interact with the world that leads to such. I feel as though I am unable to tell Codrin#Castor about what happened because to do so feels like explaining the alien to someone who really, truly, in all ways ought to know. Ey ought to be able to feel the same things that I feel, correct? Ey ought to also love Serene, oughtn't ey? Ey must, for ey is me, is ey not?
Sarah arrived an hour later, a quiet knock at the door accompanying the sensorium ping of her arrival. And yet ey is not. I cannot bring up our relationship with Serene because Codrin#Castor --- that is, specifically *me*#Castor --- does not have the same thoughts around intraclade romantic relationships that I do, and by virtue of the direction that the Odists steered us (or, as feels more accurate, crashed with us headlong and heedless) into this future, we are now completely different in that way.
May had melted into a beanbag when they'd come back inside and was folding paper crane after paper crane from a bottomless stack of origami paper, so Ioan capped eir pen and slid eir project into a drawer of eir desk. The skunk studiously avoided eir gaze, the tightness of her expression showing anxiety with tears near at hand. The Dear that I live with has, in comparison to Dear#Castor, relaxed and moved on to an approach to life that is far more laid back. As a result, we *all* have, me included.
"Mx. Bălan?" the psychologist said, bowing. "Nice to meet you." Also, as an internal postscript, I should note that the three of us are all still deeply in love with Serene and she with us, so please do not misconstrue the past tense above, but good Lord. Two foxes in the same house? Never again.
"And you, Ms. Genet." Ey stood aside, gesturing toward the hall. "Please, come inside." This is the end of the private content of the letter. Please redact this in its entirety should you pass my thoughts on to Castor (though of course you may talk about it with May; she'll understand the sensitive nature of the topic).
"Just Sarah is fine." Smiling kindly to em, she nodded and stepped inside. She seemed to be taking the sight of their home in with some deeper understanding than ey could grasp. Ey wondered just how much she could tell by how clean or messy a place might be, and thanked past-Ioan for cleaning up quite well after breakfast. **END IOAN BĂLAN INDIVIDUAL-EYES-ONLY MATERIAL**
The skunk had finished her crane and levered herself out of her beanbag by the time they made it to the den. She was standing by the kitchen table, paws folded before her and ears perked up, looking polite and attentive, though Ioan could still read the exhaustion in her face. **END BĂLAN CLADE-EYES-ONLY MATERIAL**
"May Then My Name Die With Me," Sarah said, bowing once more. "A pleasure to meet you at last. Thank you for helping to organize this project." I am settling in quite well at the university and they are as excited as I am to receive the inevitable dump of information that comes from Artemis. It is a librarian's dream. I have seen quite the bump in my reputation, oddly enough, just by having my cocladist's name attached to the project over on Castor. No complaints, but honestly, what is a librarian to do with reputation?
"Please, just May Then My Name." She returned the bow, cleared her throat. "Thank you for going along with it. It will be a large one, and I-- *we* appreciate all the help we can get." Pass on our love to May Then My Name and tell her that we are all incredibly happy to hear that there is no more news of broken noses in this letter.
They sat down around three sides of the dining table. The skunk surprised em by ensuring that ey, rather than her, sat across from the woman. Codrin#Castor, know that you've got us backing you as well. The world lies before you and is not nearly so black and white as it might seem. Search for those shades of gray that allow you to take a step forward.
"So, there's no real agenda today other than to just get to know each other. No hard topics or anything, just chatting. Stuff like that helps me get used to how you communicate." Sarah nodded toward May. "Though I would like to know how you're feeling." It's been more than twenty years (or forty, if you count splitting from you, Ioan), and it still feels incredibly weird talking myself up, doesn't it? If nothing else, take it from yourself that it's possible.
"Tired." The skunk looked down at the table where her claw-tips traced wood-grain. "Quite tired. I am not feeling myself currently, forgive me." Cheers,
"That's alright. There's been an awful lot going on, from the sounds of it." Sarah shifted gears smoothly away from the topic of current events, asking instead, "I know you two are in theatre, from what you've said. What all does that entail, though? I haven't been to a play or anything since university before uploading." Codrin#Pollux
May smiled weakly. "Lots of work. We share jobs from start to finish. There are more of us working as stage hands and crew than there are working as actors. Ioan even writes many of our plays." -----
"I guess that means you both know your way around the craft better than most, since you have to keep all of that in your heads. I'm curious, though; what all goes into the crew side? Are you also...what's the term. Stage managers? Techs?" Sarah shrugged, looking almost embarrassed at her lack of knowledge. "Lights? Sound?" Codrin,
At the word 'sound', a stricken look washed over the skunk's face. She sat, rigid, in her chair for a moment before shaking her head, the movement jerky and uneven. "I...I will leave...I will leave Ioan to answer that." Wonderful as always to hear from you. This will, of course, reach you long after the point where I could answer any pertinent questions about Artemis that I have not already done so by forwarding on what I've learned, myself. The amount of updates quickly got to the point where it didn't feel worth it to try and summarize them at all, so you're getting them all. Besides, you can summarize as well as I.
Alarmed at the sudden change in her demeanor, Ioan looked between May and Sarah, the latter's face set in an expression of concern. Dramatic, isn't it? Convergence! I just sent you a letter earlier today about the latest from Tycho on Artemis, so I don't have too much to add, really.
"May?" ey asked quietly. I'm curious about how things are working out over there with True Name and the leadership. We haven't heard anything yet from Castor about how she's doing over there, but it's always good to get a fuller picture of how things are going when they are, yet again, involved in something enormous.
"You must...you must forgive me. I have to...lay down. Or something." She swallowed several times in a row, as she always seemed to do when holding back tears. Hell, on that note, how is the sentiment overall? There's been a lot of chatter; on the night of the announcement, we had to cancel a performance due to how excited everyone was. A Finger Pointing was quick to capitalize this, and went on a tear of digging up every single production that she could find about aliens to start scheduling. When she found a relative paucity of such, she started digging into sci-fi, going all the way back to R.U.R. I have, surprising no one, been contracted to write one for the occasion, and I've been doing so with what information that I have.
The skunk stood and swayed, clutching at the edge of the table hard enough for claws to dent the wood. (Also, to your question: yes, End Waking and Debarre have settled back into dating. I do wish you'd gotten a chance to meet End Waking. He is a delight to be around in his own coarse, woodsy way.)
"Of course, May Then My Name. Would you like to meet another--" I'll pass on the snippets of secondrace language that I've received so far. Codrin promises that the grammar and dictionary will be forthcoming (probably in the next few days, if I'm calculating the transmission times right), but says that True Name has suggested that any large messages from Artemis be sent after a thorough evaluation. I can't tell if that means an evaluation of their contents or an evaluation of any hidden intent on the part of the Artemisians.
"Please discuss with Ioan," she whispered, eyes clenched shut. **BĂLAN CLADE-EYES-ONLY MATERIAL**
Ioan forked quickly, the new instance taking May by the elbow and guiding her carefully toward the bedroom, leaving #Tracker and Sarah to sit in stunned silence, watching them leave. **CODRIN BĂLAN#POLLUX INDIVIDUAL-EYES-ONLY MATERIAL**
There was a brief sensorium message, a few quiet words from eir fork, and ey nodded. "She panicked for a moment but is just going to disengage for a bit. She says to carry on since you and I might as well get to know each other, too. She'll reschedule for the near future." This is in confidence.
"Alright," Sarah said, still frowning. "I know I said just chat, but I don't think I can just let that go. Can you explain what just happened?" It was interesting hearing the story of your triad (is it still a triad? I was unable to parse to what extent Serene may still be a part of your little polycule, though it does sound as though there is a healthier distance between you all now) in your words. Serene actually contacted us a few months back to pass on the story, herself, also in confidence. She made us promise to keep it to ourselves, even from you. I pinged her with the fact that your letter contained this information to make sure that I could confirm this with you, and she said yes.
Ey sighed, nodded, and rubbed eir palms against eir slacks. "She will wind up getting overwhelmed by emotion sometimes, once every six months or so. It'll take her out for a few days then pass. She just got through one not too long ago --- I think she contacted you the day after she got back." I found the whole story as she told it to be terribly fascinating. There was a brief twinge of surprise at the idea of an intraclade relationship, but it was not the first that I've heard of since Launch. They're hardly common back here, but neither are they unheard of as individuation increases and taboos lessen. Still, this is the closest that we've been to one. No friends, even, just right into our own clades.
"So this is another bout?" It sparked a long, drawn out discussion between May, Douglas and I, actually. Less, I think, because there was any chance of that between the three of us than because Douglas is hungry for essentially every bit of information about the clade that he can get his hands on --- though, May being May, she would leap at the chance to get closer to him, but the most he is comfortable with from anyone is friendship and physical affection (he will pet May for hours if she'll let him --- and she always does).
"No, I don't think so. She's been kind of depressed over the last few days, which is different than when she overflows. She says it's not uncommon for her to 'crash' after really big events. She slows down and has a hard time enjoying things, which I suspect is common with depression. But also, little things will trigger large emotional reactions." On my end, I was mostly interested in May's thoughts on the matter as, except for a drunken (very drunken) night with A Finger Pointing, the two of us together have at most friendly relationships with any other Odist. We've not talked about that night with anyone else, either, and hardly even with each other. When I brought it up, both May and A Finger Pointing laughed at me and told me to "get the fuck over it" because apparently that's just how theatre nerds are.
Sarah nodded. "That makes sense, at least. 'Trigger' is probably the right word, there. That certainly looked like a trauma response. One she was trying very hard to control, of course, but I could almost see the adrenaline rush through her." However, when I asked May about it directly, she confided in me (and again, the anxious part of me compels me to note that I have permission to share this) that nearly seven decades back, she was nudged toward another Odist (one from the first stanza, though she did not specify which) by True Name, and a fork of her remained in a relationship with them for some time. Perhaps they are still together. May does not know. When pressed as to how this worked, she said that the instance who began that relationship was "no longer me". I did not ask further.
"There's been quite a bit of trauma of late, with her cocladists quitting." Either way, it's something of a relief to be able to talk about this openly (or, well "openly") with you. Keeping a secret about one's own cocladist from them is uncomfortable.
"Very much so, yes." That digression aside, I take well your meaning about the divergence of Castor and Pollux. I see the divergence in you two, and while it has mostly just been an interesting point to consider at times, occasionally it becomes very pertinent very quickly. I have often admired the ways in which you moved beyond the Bălans of old. It's nice to see proof that we can truly own our lives --- which is not to say that I don't feel that about myself, but in comparison with #Castor's current malaise, it comes in stark contrast.
Ey rubbed at eir eyes. They were burning, though whether from exhaustion or eir own emotions, ey couldn't tell. "I have no clue what was the trigger there, though." I don't know how Dear would take a nudge from you, and it certainly isn't my place, but I do plan on helping Codrin over there however I can. I've been discussing this with May as well, and we are brainstorming suggestions for new paths for em. I don't think that ey could manage hopping right into life in academia as you have, both because of the differences in the university between the two LVs as well as the differences in your histories over the last few decades.
Sarah waved her hand. "She and I will talk that through, it's alright. How are you doing, though?" I also want to discuss this with May as well, though I will await your permission. I do not think that she is at as much risk of conservatism as it sounds like Dear#Castor is, but there have been several conversations between us now regarding the directions that the clade that I'll speak to in normal clade-eyes-only, as I plan on sharing these messages with #Castor.
"Me?" Ey frowned. Talking with a therapist had never been on the table for em through this whole endeavor, but ey was so wrapped up in it now... "I'm stressed. I'm tired and stressed and feeling like I'm just fumbling in the dark to find something that will keep May safe." I'll keep you up to date either way.
"I'd be surprised if you weren't stressed, honestly," she said. A blink, a cone of silence fell around them. "Aliens visit one of the LVs and both your clades get wrapped up in it almost immediately, and then her cocladists quit in the midst of all those overwhelming emotions. There's a lot on the table here. Do you worry she won't be safe?" **END CODRIN BĂLAN#POLLUX INDIVIDUAL-EYES-ONLY MATERIAL**
Ioan shrugged helplessly. "I trust her when she says she's not in any danger of anything like that and that she's doing her best to stay grounded, but that doesn't stop me from worrying." While I'm sure that another Odist has already passed on this information, you should know that two Odists have quit recently, May One Day Death Itself Not Die and I Do Not Know, I Do Not Know, leaving behind no forks. The Ode is now ninety-seven.
"That's part of being in love, I think." May and In Dreams were there at the end, and this has led to an increased sense of urgency when it comes to the clade approaching their affliction. To that end, May, True Name, and In Dreams are working with a psychologist recommended from folks on Castor (the Sarah Genet mentioned in the messages I've been forwarding) to discuss paths forward.
A pang of that love tugged at em. Sarah must have seen it on eir face, as she smiled sympathetically to em. These events took place during May's aforementioned overflowing spell, which led to it being prolonged to nearly a week. She has made it through, and my nose remains intact despite getting tackled, as usual. She has recovered well despite some lingering depression, but this, in combination with some of the news from Castor which you also will have received before this, has me more worried for her than usual. She may be a little terror, but she is my little terror.
"I don't do well with loss. That's why I'm here, really. On the System, I mean," ey said, then recounted eir and May's previous conversations about the death of eir parents and how that factored into eir anxieties. All of them seem to be dealing with this in their own way. May and Dear overflow in their own ways, End Waking's desire for solitude will override his relationship with Debarre for a time, and now this over on the Death Itself stanza.
The conversation wound around from there. Ey could tell that Sarah was guiding it gently, giving careful nudges toward positive topics when the heavier ones began to loom too near, but always keeping it productive, substantive. It was, ey realized, the sort of mirror image of what ey'd seen from much of May's clade. Subtle influencing borne out of years of reading and responding to the actions, words, and expressions of another. Rather than aiming to control, however, Sarah seemed to be doing all she could to keep the control in eir hands, acting almost as a tool for em to use to examine emself, though far more human that that made it sound. Can you do me a favor when you get a chance, and let me know how True Name#Pollux is doing in this respect in particular? Doesn't need to be anything too in-depth, but, well, she is a part of this as always, and clearly there is something going on with her here.
It was refreshing. Too many Odists over the last twenty years, perhaps. **END BĂLAN CLADE-EYES-ONLY MATERIAL**
"Well," Sarah said when they'd reached a lull in the conversation. "I should probably get going so that I can give you guys some space. I'll be in touch though, okay? I'll make sure to catch up with May Then My Name when she's feeling a bit better." Pass on my love. I miss you and yours.
Ey nodded gratefully. "Thank you. This has been good for me, as well, so hopefully we can have the chance to talk again, too."
"Of course. Some of my appointments with her will involve you as well, but I'm also happy working with just you, too. Scheduling is certainly less of a constraint here on the System." She hesitated before adding, "Though for that, I may keep a separate fork for privacy's sake."
"Right, of course." Ey stood when she did, walking with her down the hall to the door. "By the way, have you been in touch with True Name? The Only Time I Know My True Name Is When I Dream?"
"Yes. She got in touch with me yesterday, and we have our own appointment scheduled. Why do you ask?"
Ey hesitated a moment, unsure of whether to divulge the fact that In Dreams seemed to have decided not to connect the two. "I'm worried about her," ey said eventually. "I just wanted to make sure she's also working with someone."
Sarah turned in the entryway, looking at em searchingly. "You know, back phys-side, I was your cocladist's partner's therapist, and we've stayed friends since uploading. They all but forced me to read the *History*. From what I could tell, your relationship with True Name did not seem to be one that included you worrying about her."
"She's changed a lot," ey said, speaking slowly as ey tried to puzzle out eir growing empathy for the other skunk --- along with the fact that this was a thing that needed puzzling out. "She's been looking rough, lately, and even for someone I have a complicated relationship with, it's tough to watch."
"That I can understand. Does she look like May Then My Name? A furry?"
Ey nodded.
"That probably helps, too." She shook her head. "Anyway, I should be going for real, now. I'll be in touch to see about talking with you more soon, alright?"
"Of course," ey said, bowing. "Thanks again. I think I needed that more than I knew."
Back in their room, May and eir other instance were sitting cross-legged on the bed, the skunk trying for the dozenth time to teach em how to fold a paper crane.
Both looked up when ey entered and, though her cheeks still showed the marks of tears, ey was pleased to see May smiling.
Eir fork quit and as ey let the memories of the last hour settle into place, ey climbed into bed to take eir spot.
"I am sorry, my dear," the skunk said, leaning forward to dot her nose against eirs. "Thank you for all of your help through that, both in here and out there."
"Of course, May. Feeling better?"
She nodded, held up her paper crane, the bottom pinched between fingers, and tugged at its tail, making the wings flap. "I have been making things."
"Other than a mess, you mean?"
Ey winced and laughed as the origami bird hit em in the face.
"I will have you know that all of the messy ones are your doing, Mx. Ioan Bălan," she said primly. "Mine are perfectly neat and orderly."
Still grinning, ey ruffled a hand through her headfur, tugging affectionately at an ear. "Right, right. Just like you."
She chirped and tilted her head toward eir hand. "Did you have a good therapy session, my dear?"
Ey nodded. "I did. I wasn't expecting it, but it was helpful. Sarah says she'll be in touch to meet again soon."
"Alright. I will not apologize again, but I do still feel bad for how I acted."
"Shush, you're fine. I think she, of all people, understands a reaction like that." Ey picked up another square of paper from the stack and began trying to fold again. "But that's enough talk of that for now. If you want dinner, you have to help me get at least one of these made."
Ioan Bălan