Epigraph

content/read/030.md

@@ -1,133 +1,155 @@
-# Ioan Bălan --- 2305
+# Sasha --- 2112
 
-Dear wasn't kidding about the smells. Ioan turned eir sensorium's sensitivity way up. Ey wondered if Dear's vulpine nose could smell things eirs could not.
+Sasha clutched at the arms of her chair, fingernails digging into the foam of the armrests, promised herself she'd stay put.
 
-Serene had worked wonders here. The smells, the textures, the raw beauty of the place, all well crafted. It was a fine line that she had walked, too. Too far in one direction and the landscape would have become nearly desolate, more foreboding than natural. Any further in the other, and it would've been softened too much, would've become too well-tended. Cartoonish.
+Then stood up anyway.
 
-As the two crunched their way through the short, stiff stalks of grass, winding their way around the larger tussocks, Ioan realized that ey was quite taken with the place.
+That her relationship with RJ was as casual as it was was working against her. She knew ey was in the UK, in London, and that they worked at a theater, but for the most part, they talked about other things. Shared things, not work. Or, if work, theater in general. They talked about Cicero and Debarre. They talked about The Crown Pub. They talked about their past and their shared world, their syncosm. RJ rarely got too far into the present and the embodied world, eir exocosm.
 
-A ridiculous house in the middle of nowhere, a glittering white fox and its partner, the prairie fading off into downs on one side and stretching out to infinity on the other. It had all seemed so contrived when ey had first visited. Too simple. Too one dimensional. Kind of tacky.
+So she had been at something of an impasse, then, with no way to figure out just what had happened to lead to eir disappearance. There were rumors abound in the Crown Pub that ey was lost, just like Cicero.
 
-But it was all just *so well done*. So incredibly, skillfully executed. The artistry was in the details, and the details were fractal, continuing down through ever finer layers. The landscape's perfection was echoed in Dear's unique sensibilities and its comfortable relationship.
+She would have to admit that she had been the source of more than a few of them, given the notification from the hospital she had received --- that ey had put her down as an emergency contact was touching in a way she could not quite articulate --- stating that ey had been admitted, but that, no, unless she were to arrive in person for biometrics, they would not be able to tell her what had happened.
 
-Ioan liked it here.
+No chance of that. Production eason was the same in American schools as it was in Soho theaters across the Atlantic.
 
-Ey was dawdling, past the comfortable stage of just enjoying the petrichor being washed in before the storm.
+The thing that plagued her with doubts was the sheer improbability of such a thing. Ey had joined them on their own private investigation into Cicero. Had that been it? But here she was; and Debarre was, as far as she knew, still alright. Even then, how could it be that thinking about, talking about, working with data related to the lost would lead to one getting lost themselves? Wouldn't the researchers on the case be all the more susceptible?
 
-"Sorry, lost in thought."
+Perhaps it was something about the data?
 
-*"It is alright,"* Dear said. *"You looked like you needed it."*
+*Still a dead end,* she thought. *We have the same data ey had. There's four or five of us with ACLs on the deck.*
 
-"Hmm? Getting lost in thought? Or getting out of the apartment?"
+And perhaps ey wasn't lost at all. There had been the show, of course. And while RJ had never disappeared during performances before, ey had certainly been quieter during her timezone. But with the message from the hospital, the only potential there was that there had been some sort of accident at the theater.
 
-Dear shrugged and smiled.
+She was embarrassed at how long it had taken her to think about simply searching eir name. She still knew that from school, after all. Doubtful that searching 'AwDae', nor even simply 'RJ', would turn up any medical reports.
 
-"Sorry all the same. I'm here now. Will try not to do that again." Ioan grinned sheepishly. "What did you find out? You seemed almost punchy."
+So it was that Sasha wound up reading the same article that Carter had found a few days earlier. It confirmed all her worst suspicions.
 
-*"I was, definitely. Still am."* The fox grinned. *"We seem to have found out who our...ah, who our target is."*
+She sent Debarre the link first, the subject line simply the emoticon `:/`. Distressed as she was, she deleted the auto-corrected emoji and replaced it with the plain-text emoticon, feeling, somehow, that that better represented her anxiety. She considered passing the article around further, but thought better of it. It pulled too hard at her heart. It had left her in tears when she first found it. Their relationship, brief as it was, had been one of the happiest of the lot she had been through. There was no ire in the way they had drifted from 'item' back to simply friends.
 
-Ioan mulled over the word 'target', searching for a better one. Ey couldn't think of any, so ey nodded. "What do we know?"
+The one upshot to finding the article had been the name of the group that RJ worked for.
 
-*"We know a name, and from there we can find a bit of history, which you may be able to help in filling in."*
+And thus Sasha: pacing back and forth in front of her desk, trying to work up the courage to hit send on the email she had drafted.
 
-"Names are good. Something other than Qoheleth?"
+She had considered mailing the director of the troupe, Bernhard Johansson, but had decided against it, figuring that the man had far more on his plate running a play. Too much to bother responding to a request such as hers. Ditto this Sarai Coen, listed as stage manager. If the play was still running, both would be swamped.
 
-*"Other than that, yes, but almost certainly connected, probably the same person. I think they're the same, at least. Not much more than the name, though. No location, no sightings in ages. Some aging --- or agéd --- resources. A name and some history."*
+She had settled instead on a Caitlin Wells, listed as working lights for the stage. Given all that RJ had told her about working as a tech, she would likely be both the closest to em and one of the least busy outside of work. If there were such a thing, that is. Sasha had been an actor, not a tech, and had no clue how busy those nights and days between performances were for the tech side.
 
-Ioan gave an impatient gesture with eir hand. "Well, what's the hold-up?"
+Sasha was just thankful that email addresses had been listed for the cast members. Not the crew, but given the pattern of *firstname.lastname@sttroupe.co.gb.wf*, she was hoping Caitlin's would follow suit.
 
-Dear's grin widened. *"The hold-up is that I want you to feel some of the excitement that I felt on hearing this from down-tree. I want you excited and invested."*
+> Caitlin Wells,
+>
+> I apologize for writing to you out of the blue, but I am a friend of RJ Brewster who works with the Soho Theatre Troupe, and I was wondering if you would be able to provide me with a bit more information about em. I am a friend from school and remember em working with theater there, and talked with em daily on a sim online.
+>
+> I know this is a long shot. I hope this reaches you, and I hope that you are well, all things considered. If you get a chance to send me a note, I would greatly appreciate it. Both email and meeting in a sim would be fine.
+>
+> Best.
+>
+> Sasha
 
-"I've been working twenty hour days on this, I'm pretty fucking invested."
+Sasha had deliberated over the two paragraphs for an hour and a half, deleting and correcting. How much should she ask for? Should she reveal where they interacted? How should she start the letter, and how should she finish it? Hell, how should she address herself? Her real name wasn't Sasha, though she thought of herself that way as often as not. She figured that, should they actually meet up in a sim somewhere, that would be the name that this Caitlin would get.
 
-The grin turned into a laugh. *"I know you have. My partner is worried about you."*
+She ran quickly to her terminal and hit 'send' before she second-guessed herself any further, and then...
 
-Ioan felt heat rise to eir cheeks. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be a bother being up so much."
+*Oh, shit.*
 
-*"No, no. We cannot hear you or anything. They are just worried because we do not hear you, or hear from you. We both like you."*
+Now she realized her mistake. Realized that, if they *did* meet up in a sim, Caitlin would be meeting up with skunk-her, rather than something more like her in the offline world. Perhaps she had a human av stashed away somewhere. She could buy one off the shelf quickly. It was seven thirty in the British Isles, she might have time before Caitlin woke up.
 
-The historian nodded, chastened.
+No luck. A scant two minutes of Sasha fretting at her keyboard passed before a ping alerted her to a new message.
 
-*"Do not worry about it, Ioan. It really is fine."* Dear patted eir shoulder. *"The name, though. The name is the important thing right now."*
+> OMG OMG we were hoping one of RJ's friends would contact us. We only know so much. Your sim or mine? Meet you in five. C.
 
-"And the name is?" Ioan's mind raced. Could Dear even say the name? Was it the poet, miraculously talking through years to the system? That would be exciting.
+Far too little time to switch out an av for something a bit more...presentable? A bit more human?
 
-*"Life Breeds Life, But Death Must Now Be Chosen, of the Ode clade."*
+Sasha groaned.
 
-Ioan froze.
+Nothing for it. She set her hands on the cradles and leaning into the headband of her workstation. Once in, she pulled up her in-sim mail and spoke quickly.
 
-Dear stopped a few paces ahead and turned, looking intently at em while its tail lashed excitedly behind it.
+> Caitlin,
+>
+> Either is fine. Should warn you that I know RJ through furry, and may look weird. My address is @Sasha:of-all-stripes.fur#home in case you want to meet here, or we can meet publicly.
+>
+> Sasha
 
-"They...what?"
+The reply came in a matter of seconds, half a minute tops.
 
-*"Good."* Dear laughed. *"I am glad that I am not the only one who had to pick their jaw up off the ground."*
+> Sasha. Crown Pub? In case you want to tell others. That's what RJ always talked to me about. We know about furry. C.
 
-Ioan stuffed eir hands in eir pockets. Brought them back out to press against eir forehead. Crossed eir arms. Returned eir hands to eir pockets. Suddenly anxious. "I thought you said that Qoheleth couldn't be from within the clade."
+The relief was palpable, if incomplete. It would certainly be strange to actually interact with one of the tourists that drifted through that sim. She tapped one of the pre-written replies --- "Sure, see you there!" --- on her client, hoping that this would portray the appropriate levels of urgency that Caitlin seemed to share, then dashed to her tport pad and swiped left, quickly selecting the top, most-visited option.
 
-*"And so I believed. For him to share the Name is...a breach. Apostasy of a sort that I thought precluded the very prospect."*
+Caitlin was already there.
 
-Ioan did not push further, instead relishing the surprise. "It's a real the-call's-coming-from-inside-the-house moment."
+Sasha wasn't sure whether to be surprised or not that the woman had a custom avatar. She was evidently a fan of the past, with hair swept neatly to the side to reveal an undercut. She wore a long, sleeveless tunic emblazoned with the word *heh.*, running to mid thigh covering only leggings. Something from earlier in the century.
 
-Dear tilted its head, ears perked.
+Sasha felt strangely plain in her simple skunk av. Baggy shirt and fisherman's pants, fashionable enough by today's standards, did not stand up against London chic.
 
-"Never mind. Old trivia." Ioan shook eir head and rocked back on eir heels. "How, though? How'd you get the name?"
+"Caitlin?" she said, voice raised.
 
-*"A hunch I had, actually, though someone else dug it up."*
+The human waved energetically and ducked through the crowd. "Sasha, right? There a place we can talk? Anyone else you want to bring along?"
 
-"What was the hunch?"
+Sasha did a quick scan of the room, picking out Debarre sulking at the end of the bar. She jogged over and tapped him on the shoulder. "Someone who knows AwDae is here, want to join?"
 
-*"'Signifier.'"*
+The weasel perked at that, frowned, nodded. "Uh, sure. Do they know about Cice?"
 
-Ioan rifled through eir mental notes on the project. "Signifier...from the first encrypted note? Signifier is the password something something?"
+"I don't know, but they might. They only said they know about AwDae, and that ey had talked to them about this place."
 
-Dear nodded. *"Hardly anyone uses it anymore, but signifier used to be what we called the names of long-lived branches. It's still used here and there among older clades."*
+Debarre shrugged and slipped off of his stool, following after Sasha. "Better than nothing," he grumbled, nodding to Caitlin on his way to one of the empty booths.
 
-"Right, yeah. Ioan Bălan is my name, Ioan\#c1494bf is my signifier."
+The three settled onto the overstuffed seats. There was a moment of silence before all three started talking at once, followed by another silence, then nervous laughter. Sasha gestured to Caitlin.
 
-*"Yes. It fell out of use quickly. Too clumsy a word. I use it now and then, when I can get away with it."*
+"RJ's lost. It happened during a rehearsal." She frowned, tapping a finger at the scarred table between them. "Should back up, though. How much do you know?"
 
-"Makes sense, yeah. So they're..."
+"We read an article about em. Something from a tabloid. It just mentioned the Troupe, which is how I found you."
 
-*"They are an Odist, yes. Way, way down-tree. One of the first instances."* Dear's smile faltered, *"We were not very good at record keeping back then. We are not really now, to be honest, but the system is better. We...we did not know that he was still alive."*
+Caitlin nodded, frowned, then offered her hand to Debarre. The weasel shook it cautiously. "Sorry, I should introduce myself. I'm Caitlin, the lights tech for STT. I was there when...when it happened."
 
-"Didn't know? I thought you all talked to each other. You must, in order to keep the names straight. Wait, 'he'?"
+"Debarre," Debarre said, gruff. "Boyfriend's lost, too. AwDae...uh, RJ, Sasha, and I were trying to figure out what happened."
 
-*"Remember, all of our names are chosen from our stanza. I talk with the other nine within my stanza every now and then --- some more than others --- and we filled out the stanza not long ago."* The fox's expression grew glassy. *"Life Breeds Life...that is the second stanza, first line. They are a conservative bunch. I only know one or two, but I assume that others are out there. And yes, 'he'. Michelle was a woman, but those early days were heady."*
+Fumbling some cards out of her pocket and duplicating them, Sasha added, "We were exchanging a deck on Cicero, Debarre's partner. You don't have to do anything with them, but you might as well have a copy, too. And, hold on." The skunk swiped, tapped through menus, created a new card titled 'RJ lost', duplicated it twice. She handed one each to Debarre and Caitlin. "One for RJ as well."
 
-Ioan nodded, "So the first stanza were the first forked, meaning he was the eleventh fork?"
+Caitlin swiped up on the card, tapped the voice-record button, and began speaking. "Alright, so here's what I know. RJ was working sound that night, last night of rehearsals, and started having trouble about halfway through. Ey went quiet on the mic, and then missed a cue or two before we noticed what was going on. We called a halt to the rehearsal and found em unresponsive at eir rig. We pulled em back and hit the panic button and...and nothing. Ey was gone. Even out of the rig, eir implants showed ey was still inside.
 
-*"The first line from each stanza were the first forked, back when it cost to fork. Like, cost real reputation. Anyway, the first fork of the second stanza --- second fork overall --- must have just been a little more conservative than the rest of us. Or liberal. It is difficult to discern."*
+"The cops and paramedics had a protocol for the whole thing, I guess. Ey was taken off to the hospital. It all happened so fast. Johansson --- that's the director --- met up with a woman from the university who said she was studying the lost and had a talk with her. She said she had gotten information on em, but wanted more, so they talked for a bit. Her name was--" Caitlin frowned and thought for a moment, then tapped the growing deck to add another card. "Carter Ramirez. Oh, you've already got one in here. Remembered it was Spanish or something. RJ mentioned your name, which is why I was so eager to meet up."
 
-"I...hmm. May I ask something potentially personal?"
+Sasha sat up straighter. "My name?"
 
-Dear nodded.
+"Yeah. Ey talked about you quite a lot. Hell, ey mentioned Cicero."
 
-"The Odists that don't want me digging into this too much, the ones you didn't really talk to, are they from that side of the clade?"
+At this, Debarre looked so intently at Caitlin that she quailed under his gaze.
 
-The fox's ears perked, *"To the last, yes. Why?"*
+"Just that he was lost, I'm sorry. I don't know much beyond that."
 
-"How will, er..."
+The weasel's shoulders slumped, and he nodded.
 
-*"Life Breeds Life, But Death Must Now Be Chosen. Just Life is fine, too."*
+"There's a lot of downtime, working tech. We all chat and...hey, why did you contact me, anyway?"
 
-"How will Life react to the search? To me?"
+"I figured you'd be the least busy, other than maybe stage hands. Plus, RJ said lights techs were always cool."
 
-Dear shrugged and turned its back on Ioan.
+Caitlin laughed, brushing her hair back. The motion seemed automatic, as her av's hair had hardly budged. "It's true. Anyway, we talked. I don't actually know what more to tell you beyond that. The rest of our relationship was work. RJ was super focused on that, and didn't really chill with the rest of us when ey wasn't working. I mean, we liked him and he liked us, but he was rarely a hundred percent there, you know? Ey had a cat, I know that."
 
-The historian stood, quiet and still, and watched as the fox took a few steps deeper into the prairie, crossed its arms and stood straight, staring up into the bruised sky. *"To the second bit, I do not know that it matters. They --- Life, or Qoheleth, or whatever --- are one of us. And even those of us who did not want any outsiders brought on board are only frowning, looking down their noses at the thought, not gathering up arms."*
+"Priscilla, yeah."
 
-"And to the first bit?" Ioan pressed. "What do you think he will think of the search?"
+Caitlin shrugged. "Sure, I guess. Eir landlord is taking care of it. I was hoping you could tell me more, actually."
 
-*"What do I think? Or what do I feel?"*
+Sasha recounted much of her and RJ's history. All the way back to their relationship, back through school. School productions, school summers, sleepovers and movies and all the trappings of being a kid.
 
-Ioan scuffed eir foot against the grass. The temperature was dropping out on the prairie. It would be an inconvenience to have to slosh back to the house if it rained.
+By the end, she was crying freely.
 
-"Both."
+"I didn't know, I'm sorry. RJ never talked about relationships."
 
-*"I think that he would probably get a kick out of it. I know that am. Several of the others are, and the ones who are not just do not care that much or are perhaps more angry than curious."* Dear turned back around. Its arms were held tight against it's front, guarding. Whether from cold or emotion, Ioan couldn't tell. *"As for what I feel, I feel that it is his game. He is the one running it. But even if it is a game, it is not play. There is no real fun in it, just...snark. Anger. Pride, maybe. It is a game he has worked at perfecting, and he wants us to see that."*
+"I think I was eir only one." Sasha sniffled. "There weren't any others that I knew about, at least. Ey was kinda, uh...aromantic, I guess."
 
-Ioan marveled at the change in Dear, though with this raise in stakes, ey felt some of the same.
+Caitlin nodded. "That tallies. Listen, I gotta get going, though. I ran at this without really thinking, and your email ping woke me up. I don't know if I can, but I should try sleeping more before the show tonight."
 
-The fox's smile was weak as it added, *"He has designs. Designs and reasons."*
+"No problem," Sasha and Debarre said in unison. They laughed, though whether at the shared words or the giddiness that went along with new information, Sasha couldn't tell.
 
-Ioan and Dear trudged back to the low block of concrete, a bunker against the storm, as a chill wind swept away the petrichor and brought with it the rain.
+"No problem," she repeated. "Thank you so much for meeting up with us. And thank you for confirmation on that researcher's name. I'll see if I can find this Dr. Ramirez. Keep in touch, alright? And add to the deck if you find anything."
+
+Caitlin nodded. "Will do. See you later."
+
+And with that, the woman signed off. Poor form to do so in the middle of a public sim like this, but everyone was jumpy. The skunk and the weasel shrugged it off.
+
+"Guess now we have another lead," Debarre said.
+
+"Yeah. And if she's a big name researcher, I bet she knows about Cicero, too."
+
+At that, Debarre brightened, and for the first time in weeks, the two spent the rest of the night talking without tears.