Edits for hardcover

content/read/013.md

@@ -16,7 +16,7 @@ The file arrived promptly. Eir shoulders sagged. It began with `-----BEGIN AES B
 
 "What's an AES block?"
 
-*"An old encryption algorithm."* Dear looked a little embarrassed. *"And I mean* old. *We like old things. That's why she suggested it might be from one of us."*
+*"An old encryption algorithm."* Dear looked a little embarrassed. *"And I mean* old. *We like old things. That is why she suggested it might be from one of us."*
 
 "You don't sound convinced."
 
@@ -40,7 +40,7 @@ Ioan frowned. "I'm trying to square your use of the poet's work in your very nam
 
 Ioan nodded. "So do you want me--"
 
-*"You do not need to worry about the file itself. That's why I did not just forward it to you automatically."* Dear paused, then added, *"Though I probably should have. Here I am talking about you having a more complete picture and not giving you everything."*
+*"You do not need to worry about the file itself. That is why I did not just forward it to you automatically."* Dear paused, then added, *"Though I probably should have. Here I am talking about you having a more complete picture and not giving you everything."*
 
 "It's alright. I'm picking it up as we go along."
 
@@ -48,7 +48,7 @@ It nodded. *"It is important, though. Amanuenses form an* Umwelt, *so this is pa
 
 "Okay, good. I gave AES a check, and you're right, that's ridiculously old. Can't you just crack it?"
 
-*"We could. Some of us probably already have. I want the key, though. It's probably a word or something, and may prove interesting in its own right."*
+*"We could. Some of us probably already have. I want the key, though. It is probably a word or something, and may prove interesting in its own right."*
 
 "Interesting?"
 
@@ -56,7 +56,7 @@ It nodded. *"It is important, though. Amanuenses form an* Umwelt, *so this is pa
 
 "Ah. Good point. I'll do some digging on old cryptography, too, and see what all's out there."
 
-*"Good fucking luck. Cryptonerds were --- are --- very wordy. There's going to be a boatload to sort through."*
+*"Good fucking luck. Cryptonerds were --- are --- very wordy. There is going to be a boatload to sort through."*
 
 Ey grinned, "I'll fork and research, then."
 

content/read/015.md

@@ -52,7 +52,7 @@ I have found several references to the term *kemmer*, with the primary source be
 
 I was not able to deduce anything concrete out of this term, because I cannot tell where it is directed. While I do not presume to know the Name (nor do I wish to!), one possibility is that it refers to the author of the Ode. Another is that it refers to some aspect of the Ode clade itself. You are perhaps uniquely positioned to answer this, as I don't imagine the entirety of the Ode clade are agender foxes, given both what I know of Michelle Hadje and how you speak of your cocladists. A third possibility is that the term may apply to Qoheleth themself. A fourth is that it relates to the mystery at hand in some way. And, of course, it could be meaningless (hah) in terms of subtext, in this case and does not apply beyond being a neat word.
 
-That said, I'm not a fan of the final interpretation, as upon further digging, I came across the line "the key word is kemmer, that's what yo' ass need" in an equally ancient song ("Air 'em out" by clipping. *[sic]*), which was too tight a coincidence to pass up. The annotated lyrics to that song, in turn, were packed with more references and discursion than this letter, many of which refer to old science fiction books and movies. This verse in particular features heavy references to *The Left Hand of Darkness*, including the phrase 'Ansible' --- which shows up in other books as well --- and, in turn, shows up in some of our technology: the communication system by which uploads are sent from Earth to the sim-system here at the L5 point is called 'Ansible'. This struck me as particularly important. I found this song both in my searches on *kemmer* as well as on the Ansible, having taken to heart your suggestion that the clade likes 'old things'. The Ansible turned up a *third* time in the context of asymetric cyphers, mentioned below.
+That said, I'm not a fan of the final interpretation, as upon further digging, I came across the line "the key word is kemmer, that's what yo' ass need" in an equally ancient song ("Air 'em out" by clipping. *[sic]*), which was too tight a coincidence to pass up. The annotated lyrics to that song, in turn, were packed with more references and discursion than this letter, many of which refer to old science fiction books and movies. This verse in particular features heavy references to *The Left Hand of Darkness*, including the phrase 'Ansible' --- which shows up in other books as well --- and, in turn, shows up in some of our technology: the communication system by which uploads are sent from Earth to the System here at the L<sub>5</sub> point is called 'Ansible'. This struck me as particularly important. I found this song both in my searches on *kemmer* as well as on the Ansible, having taken to heart your suggestion that the clade likes 'old things'. The Ansible turned up a *third* time in the context of asymetric cyphers, mentioned below.
 
 Given this additional set of coincidences, I've compiled a list of further references in this song for research down the line.
 

content/read/017.md

@@ -46,7 +46,7 @@ Remembering the position where ey had found it, AwDae pocketed the mic and strai
 
 Ey shrugged it off. Habits were habits. No reason to break them now.
 
-Back to the admin office, then. AwDae couldn't help but feel as though ey was trapped within a game. One of those first-person puzzle solvers that seemed forever popular. One of eir favorite of the genres.
+Back to the admin office, then. AwDae couldn't help but feel as though ey was trapped within a game. One of those first-person puzzle solvers that seemed forever popular. One of eir favorite genres.
 
 It was surprising the adroitness with which eir perspective had shifted. Sobbing: now behind em.
 

content/read/018.md

@@ -1,6 +1,6 @@
 # Qoheleth --- 2305
 
-Transcript of Node: [\[bea0cf302fcd00863f0c67a91b1a75c0e4ba4863\]](http://35.165.134.227/node/bea0cf302fcd00863f0c67a91b1a75c0e4ba4863) with descriptive text by \#d5b14aa.
+Transcript of Node: \[bea0cf302fcd00863f0c67a91b1a75c0e4ba4863\] with descriptive text by \#d5b1a4aa.
 
 *The footage shows two persons. One of them has to be Dear, Also, The Tree That Was Felled, who is an up-tree branch of the Ode clade, eighth stanza. No one else has ears that big, nobody else can somehow speak in italics. The other took some research, but I am confident that ey is an instance of Ioan Bălan, a historian and writer. Ey is a tracker, but only just, as eir habits tend toward few to no long-running instances. This instance is either \#tracker or one tasked to this project.*
 
@@ -176,7 +176,7 @@ Transcript of Node: [\[bea0cf302fcd00863f0c67a91b1a75c0e4ba4863\]](http://35.165
 > :   Sorry, Dear. I hope I'm not overstepping at all.
 >
 > Dear
-> :   \[calmer\] Do not worry about it. It is okay, I promise. It is just that we are really good at arguing, so I have been dealing with that quite a bit the last few days. That is why I hired you; I am relegated to an administration role so I am a bit on edge. Let's get back to the archive server, yes?
+> :   \[calmer\] Do not worry about it. It is okay, I promise. It is just that we are really good at arguing, so I have been dealing with that quite a bit the last few days. That is why I hired you; I am relegated to an administration role so I am a bit on edge. Let us get back to the archive server, yes?
 >
 > Ioan
 > :   Sure thing. Where did you say your cocladists had found it?

content/read/023.md

@@ -10,7 +10,7 @@ But then, you could quit a game. Here ey was, clues and riddles. And for what?
 
 There was even a fog of war.
 
-"So much bullshit," ey laughed bitterly. No sense in keeping quiet.
+"So much bullshit." Ey laughed bitterly. No sense in keeping quiet.
 
 Ey stripped down to eir underwear, hesitated, then stripped that off as well and shook eir fur out.
 

content/read/024.md

@@ -34,7 +34,7 @@ Ey did not envy it now.
 
 The archive itself was a free-form database stored in the perisystem. It could hold essentially unlimited data in truly unlimited formats. Everything from text and structured data to full-sensorium recordings. Each blob of data was stored in a node, and nodes could be tagged and linked.
 
-Unfashionable and difficult to work with, not to mention expensive to maintain, Ioan wasn't entirely clear why they had been added to the system. Exocortices had been around before the system itself. More personal, easier to interface with. Harder to share, granted.
+Unfashionable and difficult to work with, not to mention expensive to maintain, Ioan wasn't entirely clear why they had been added to the system. Exocortices had been around before the System itself. More personal, easier to interface with. Harder to share, granted.
 
 Some remnant from its construction, perhaps?
 

content/read/025.md

@@ -28,10 +28,12 @@ The laugh turned to sob, stopped quickly.
 
 AwDae leaned forward, stretching eir legs out behind em. Ey laid flat on eir floor, on eir oh-so-familiar rug, bafflingly present in eir bafflingly present home. Laid flat, then rolled over onto eir side. Eir tail lay limp against the short pile of the rug behind em.
 
-*How had this happened? What did I do? Why here? Why me? What did I do to deserve this?*
+*How did this happen? What did I do? Why here? Why me? What did I do to deserve this?*
 
 Eir mind was awhirl with words. With questions, and only questions. Ey didn't have answers. No answers inside, none before em, none in the house. Answers were a thing that did not-- could not exist here. Answers a thing that happened to other people.
 
+"Why ask questions when the answers will not help?"
+
 Ey did not have the mental bandwidth required to do anything other than watch questions swirl. Ey was at a loss for images in this end of days. Ey was an observer. Nothing more than a set of eyes with no will, no drive. No urge to move those eyes as ey watched all of the emotion that had been held at bay, held back with the sense of *doing something* over the last day and change. All that emotion surge.
 
 Eir actions had been all wrong. Ey had accepted getting lost with resignation. Ey had leapt at the chance to solve the 'puzzle' of the microphone with something akin to excitement. Ey had found a new set of clothes with a casualness befitting a trip to the thrift store. All this when ey should have been experiencing terror. Doing all these things when ey should have been breaking down into sobs at the fact that ey had been struck with some sort of incurable...what? Incurable disease? Ey was lost.

content/read/027.md

@@ -80,7 +80,7 @@ That grin widened, and was joined by a swish of a tail. *"Precisely that. There
 
 "The amount that you seem to differ from the rest of your clade is surprising. Are there no other artists?"
 
-*"Oh, we're all artists of a sort. Actors, mostly. A few sim designers. One of the other stanzas' lines painted this,"* it said, nodding to that unnerving black square. *"But yes, we are all quite different. Perhaps you will see some day."*
+*"Oh, we are all artists of a sort. Actors, mostly. A few sim designers. One of the other stanzas' lines painted this,"* it said, nodding to that unnerving black square. *"But yes, we are all quite different. Perhaps you will see some day."*
 
 Ioan nodded.
 

content/read/029.md

@@ -8,7 +8,7 @@ Ey had researched it at one point and entertained the idea that it might be part
 
 *Less than healthy.*
 
-There were never any complaints about the quality or quantity of work ey got done while free-running. Ey didn't slip up or stumble. Didn't make any more mistakes than when ey stuck to a schedule. Made fewer, perhaps. And being methodical got one quite far as an historian and writer. Ey would write the same quality work at the beginning, middle, and end of eir waking periods.
+There were never any complaints about the quality or quantity of work ey got done while free-running. Ey didn't slip up or stumble. Didn't make any more mistakes than when ey stuck to a schedule. Made fewer, perhaps. And being methodical got one quite far as a historian and writer. Ey would write the same quality work at the beginning, middle, and end of eir waking periods.
 
 What it did *not* do, however, was endear oneself to one's housemates. Ioan\#tracker quickly grew frustrated with eir own forks, whether or not they used a cone of silence, so ey knew the feeling intimately. It was implicit that ey would, as a fork. It was always a problem when multiple Bălan instances stayed in the same house while on separate projects, each on a separate schedule, and ey was nothing if not a Bălan.
 
@@ -16,7 +16,7 @@ Here, at least, ey'd been lucky enough to be invited by eir...client? Patron? Ha
 
 So that's how ey found emself rubbing eir eyes in front of a simple, if painfully modern, desk in a studio apartment attached to eir...employer's? Friend's? Eir friend's equally modern house.
 
-The studio apartment really was a studio, too: someone --- perhaps the other Odist Dear had mentioned --- had used it for painting. Rightfully so: the exterior wall was floor to ceiling glass looking out over that sere prairie. The landscape, Dear's partner had explained, was the work of Dear's cocladist, Serene; Sustained and Sustaining, 'born' when their down-tree instance, Dear The Wheat And Rye Under The Stars had forked to explore her twinned interests of forming oneself and of forming one's surroundings in ever greater detail.
+The studio apartment really was a studio, too: someone --- perhaps the other Odist Dear had mentioned --- had used it for painting. Rightfully so: the exterior wall was floor to ceiling glass looking out over that sere prairie. The landscape, Dear's partner had explained, was the work of Dear's cocladist, Serene; Sustained And Sustaining, 'born' when their down-tree instance, Dear The Wheat And Rye Under The Stars had forked to explore her twinned interests of forming oneself and of forming one's surroundings in ever greater detail.
 
 Ioan's head spun whenever ey thought about the clade, but the longer ey spent around Dear, the more ey found emself liking it. Ey was curious to get to meet another Odist.
 
@@ -34,7 +34,7 @@ Ioan spun around. Dear was standing, prim and dapper as always, at the door thro
 
 "You scared the hell out of me!"
 
-Dear's serene smile widened into a grin. *"Sorry, Ioan. I'll wait until after the wall responds, next time."*
+Dear's serene smile widened into a grin. *"Sorry, Ioan. I will wait until after the wall responds, next time."*
 
 "Jackass."
 

content/read/031.md

@@ -32,7 +32,7 @@ Ioan mulled over the word 'target', searching for a better one. Ey couldn't thin
 
 "Names are good. Something other than Qoheleth?"
 
-*"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."*
+*"Other than that, yes, but almost certainly connected, probably the same person. I think they are 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."*
 
 Ioan gave an impatient gesture with eir hand. "Well, what's the hold-up?"
 
@@ -80,7 +80,7 @@ Dear tilted its head, ears perked.
 
 Ioan rifled through eir mental notes on the project. "Signifier...from the first encrypted note? Signifier is the password something something?"
 
-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."*
+Dear nodded. *"Hardly anyone uses it anymore, but signifier used to be what we called the names of long-lived branches. It is still used here and there among older clades."*
 
 "Right, yeah. Ioan Bălan is my name, Ioan\#c1494bf is my signifier."
 
@@ -124,7 +124,7 @@ Ioan scuffed eir foot against the grass. The temperature was dropping out on the
 
 "Both."
 
-*"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 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 its 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."*
 
 Ioan marveled at the change in Dear, though with this raise in stakes, ey felt some of the same.
 

content/read/032.md

@@ -16,7 +16,7 @@ Without teleport, however, that was out of the question. It was halfway across t
 
 Something more manageable, then.
 
-The clinic where ey has had eir implants installed was halfway across town. It would take an hour or two to traverse, ey supposed. A guess. Ey had never walked it before.
+The clinic where ey had eir implants installed was halfway across town. It would take an hour or two to traverse, ey supposed. A guess. Ey had never walked it before.
 
 Ey had time, though, it seemed. All the time in the world.
 
@@ -72,6 +72,6 @@ The idiom got a laugh out of the fox. Perhaps that was literally true. It could
 
 Preempting another skip, ey scrambled to open the door of the car and hop out on eir own before it was done for em. With a satisfying thunk, the passenger door of the dusty blue sedan swung shut behind em.
 
-*Promising,* ey thought. *Perhaps I just have to be more deliberate about it. I'll get in the car later, follow the drive back home, and maybe it'll park in the driveway as easy as that.*
+*Promising,* ey thought. *Perhaps I just have to be more deliberate about it. I will get in the car later, follow the drive back home, and maybe it will park in the driveway as easy as that.*
 
 Eir claws clacked against the pavement leading to the smoky glass doors. It wasn't overly warm out, but the cool air that breathed out of the clinic was refreshing nevertheless. Something static. Something still. Something known.

content/read/036.md

@@ -14,7 +14,7 @@ Dear picked up somewhat with the food. Not as much Ioan had. Nor, it seemed, as
 
 It wasn't until they poured wine and moved to the couch that Dear began to open up.
 
-*"I script a lot of my conversations. Perhaps most,"* it said, staring into it's 'glass', wide-rimmed to make way for a fox muzzle to lap. Ioan felt strange drinking wine from something more akin to a bowl
+*"I script a lot of my conversations. Perhaps most,"* it said, staring into it's 'glass', wide-rimmed to make way for a fox muzzle to lap. Ioan felt strange drinking wine from something more akin to a bowl.
 
 Ioan looked up. "Mm?"
 
@@ -48,7 +48,7 @@ Dear's partner gave its shin a playful kick. The fox grinned.
 
 Ioan grinned, letting the banter play out before continuing. "All I meant to say was that I worried that I'd offended with my questions."
 
-*"Not at all."* The fennec furrowed its brow. *"I mean, not really. I felt offended, is what I mean to say. When you asked how Life would react to you being a part of this investigation, it stung. An unfair reaction, I admit. Just one from the gut. I was offended because that made me realize that I'd invited you along on this as some sort of tool. Something I could wave about and say, "See, look what I have!" A tool or a trophy. Offense borne of shame."*
+*"Not at all."* The fennec furrowed its brow. *"I mean, not really. I felt offended, is what I mean to say. When you asked how Qoheleth would react to you being a part of this investigation, it stung. An unfair reaction, I admit. Just one from the gut. I was offended because that made me realize that I'd invited you along on this as some sort of tool. Something I could wave about and say, "See, look what I have!" A tool or a trophy. Offense borne of shame."*
 
 Ioan looked down into eir wine, taken aback.
 
@@ -80,7 +80,7 @@ The contrast made Ioan's teeth ache.
 
 "Hi Dear, this is Qoheleth. Not Life Breeds Life, But Death Must Now Be Chosen, but Qoheleth. I am glad to see that you have kept at it and gotten so close. I am not sending this to deter you, but to cheer you on. I am going to send you a bit more information --- just you, mind! --- but I want you to get the rest of the clade in on this. I want to see if you can get them working with the same delightful fervor you and Ioan have.
 
-"So anyway, here's the bone I am gonna toss. You should be looking at the node ending in 343f1077. That will get you right to my door. May need the gist node ending in e39fcd49 to help, too. You already have the key, I think. I expect most, if not all of you, though, you understand? You are lovely, Dear, and I cannot wait to see you and your friend, but I would like to host as much of the clade as I can.
+"So anyway, here's the bone I am gonna toss. You should be looking at the node ending in 343f1077. That will get you right to my door. May need the node ending in e39fcd49 to help, too. You already have the key, I think. I expect most, if not all of you, though, you understand? You are lovely, Dear, and I cannot wait to see you and your friend, but I would like to host as much of the clade as I can.
 
 "I am quite excited for this, and I am totally looking forward to see you all, yes?"
 
@@ -96,7 +96,7 @@ The relative calm that fell over Ioan signified that the message had ended.
 
 Ioan shook eir head and said again, quieter, "Holy shit." Ey reached for eir glass of wine.
 
-""Bone I'm going to toss," hmm?" Dear's partner mused. "He makes it sound like a game."
+"'Bone I'm going to toss,' hmm?" Dear's partner mused. "He makes it sound like a game."
 
 Ioan nodded and watched them spin their wine glass between their palms by the stem, watched the wine creep up the sides from centripetal force.
 
@@ -104,7 +104,7 @@ Ioan nodded and watched them spin their wine glass between their palms by the st
 
 They laughed, "Of course. I know I've not been hitting the books or the streets like you two have, but I'm still in this. I was the one who pointed it to you."
 
-Ey nodded, feeling eir cheeks flush. "Of course, sorry. Do you know what he meant by "closest one to the thing I'm after"?"
+Ey nodded, feeling eir cheeks flush. "Of course, sorry. Do you know what he meant by 'closest one to the thing I'm after'?"
 
 "Maybe. I only really have an inkling, though, and I'd rather let Dear explain."
 
@@ -150,7 +150,7 @@ Dear's partner nodded. "So it did its best to forget."
 
 All the same, ey prowled through eir memories. Even just those from the time ey had been spending with Dear. They were jumbled, sure, and lots of impressions, but no, nothing was forgotten that ey could think of. With focus, ey could recall the entire afternoon on the prairie with startling precision.
 
-"I'll spare you the details by passing on some thoughts from Dear," they said. "We aren't gifted with eidetic memories when we upload, but neither can we truly forget anything we experience after that point. It's as thought each memory is labeled with a priority level from zero to ten, and when it hits zero, it's forgotten. Except the actual scale only goes down to naught-point-oh-oh-oh-oh-one or something. We can kick it way to the back of our minds, down the priority list, but we can't forget it. The system won't let us."
+"I'll spare you the details by passing on some thoughts from Dear," they said. "We aren't gifted with eidetic memories when we upload, but neither can we truly forget anything we experience after that point. It's as thought each memory is labeled with a priority level from zero to ten, and when it hits zero, it's forgotten. Except the actual scale only goes down to naught-point-oh-oh-oh-oh-one or something. We can kick it way to the back of our minds, down the priority list, but we can't forget it. The System won't let us."
 
 Ioan nodded. "So Dear tried to forget, tried to kick that memory all the way to the back of its mind. What does that have to do with being a fox, though?"
 
@@ -184,7 +184,7 @@ Dear's partner grinned. "It's an intense fox."
 
 "It'll be back soon enough. Let me throw a question back at you. What are your thoughts on the last thing Qoheleth said? "I think you and I both know why"?"
 
-Ioan settled back into the couch with the remainder of eir wine and thought for a moment. "I'm wondering if he was talking about what Dear did to forget the Name. On one hand, it sounds like a sort of congratulations. Like, "I'm glad you're able to move on," but after all that talk of the clade and all of what Dear said earlier, I'm not sure if that's the whole story."
+Ioan settled back into the couch with the remainder of eir wine and thought for a moment. "I'm wondering if he was talking about what Dear did to forget the Name. On one hand, it sounds like a sort of congratulation. Like, "I'm glad you're able to move on," but after all that talk of the clade and all of what Dear said earlier, I'm not sure if that's the whole story."
 
 "How do you mean?"
 

content/read/037.md

@@ -20,7 +20,7 @@ She began typing.
 >
 > Do you have any idea what that might be about? I know I said Cicero was super into politics, but do you think RJ was onto something here?
 >
-> I've copied Cicero's partner, Debarre (don't know real name, sorry!) and Caitlin Fowler from where RJ works.
+> I've copied Cicero's partner, Debarre (don't know real name, sorry!) and Caitlin Wells from where RJ works.
 >
 > Sasha
 

content/read/038.md

@@ -40,7 +40,7 @@ Ey drew the covers up over eir head. Perhaps ey wished to blot out the dream wit
 
 Ey slept, then. Not the restless, confused sleep of the night before, but a dreamless sleep of an hour. An hour? A day? What mattered time? It was the sleep of a mind demanding that very blessed nothingness. Was that something ey could request, as ey had requested to dream eir way back home?
 
-It was not a long nap, of course. Or perhaps it was. Perhaps ey could will it to be as long as ey wanted. Perhaps ey were bound to a rhythm, but the scale did not matter. Perhaps ey could bend time.
+It was not a long nap, of course. Or perhaps it was. Perhaps ey could will it to be as long as ey wanted. Perhaps ey was bound to a rhythm, but the scale did not matter. Perhaps ey could bend time.
 
 Either way, when ey awoke, the corners of eir eyes gunked up with dried tears, the funk of the morning had largely passed. The numbness still lingered around the edges, vignetting curiosity, but it was not so all-consuming as it had been.
 
@@ -70,7 +70,7 @@ Ey turned the knob and stepped out into the shortgrass prairie of the open space
 
 A promise to emself. *I still have will.*
 
-The fog receded upon eir request, thinned, disappeared. Mere breath. The prairie of the open space stretched out before them. A valley, and then a ridge of hills to the east. The mountains behind eir back.
+The fog receded upon eir request, thinned, disappeared. Mere breath. The prairie of the open space stretched out before em. A valley, and then a ridge of hills to the east. The mountains behind eir back.
 
 Not a sim. No limitations other than those eir dreaming mind had set upon them. Ey had spent so long in sims, lived eir life out in worlds bounded by the edges of invisible properties that, upon getting lost, ey had imagined the same must be true inside. More so, eir unconscious reasoned, for was ey not constrained by the processing power of eir exocortex?
 
@@ -78,7 +78,7 @@ But it was not a sim. It was a dream, eir dream, eir exo a mirror, and in the en
 
 No commands, then. No promises. Ey knew that, were ey to take a step forward, eir foot would come down on the dinged hardwood floor of eir London flat. Priscilla would meow her hellos and twine around eir ankles.
 
-Ey did not rush. Ey stood still. The breeze fingered eir fur and teased along the hem of eir skirt as a breeze must. There were the turbines on the far ridge, three blades turning laconically as turbines must. There was the highway across the valley, the gas station squatting low alongside it as gas stations must.
+Ey did not rush. Ey stood still. The breeze fingered eir fur and teased along the hem of eir skirt as a breeze must. There were the turbines on the far ridge, three blades turning laconically as turbines must. There was the highway across the valley, the charging station squatting low alongside it as charging stations must.
 
 No commands in dreams. No promises required. Ey would take that step and all would be as it must.
 

content/read/040.md

@@ -36,7 +36,7 @@ Ioan
 :   Yes. Lots of turmoil around then. Early 2100s, right?
 
 Dear
-:   [nodding] Yes. Though it's strange, now that I think about it. The turmoil at the time felt very small and personal. While there was all this grand-scale stuff going on around us, we were dealing with friends and acquaintances disappearing. There were so few cases at first that it was just this thing the news would publish as a sort of curiosity. "Look! Isn't this strange? The scientists are working so hard!" [laughter] It wasn't until after that the turmoil you're talking about began.
+:   [nodding] Yes. Though it is strange, now that I think about it. The turmoil at the time felt very small and personal. While there was all this grand-scale stuff going on around us, we were dealing with friends and acquaintances disappearing. There were so few cases at first that it was just this thing the news would publish as a sort of curiosity. "Look! Is this not strange? The scientists are working so hard!" [laughter] It was not until after that that the turmoil you that are talking about began.
 
 Ioan
 :   Okay. Did you upload during?
@@ -48,7 +48,7 @@ Ioan
 :   How many-- sorry for the interruption. How many came back? Of those you knew?
 
 Dear
-:   Oh, all of them came back! Just that some of them didn't last long, after.
+:   Oh, all of them came back! Just that some of them did not last long, after.
 
 Ioan
 :   Including the...uh, the owner of the Name?
@@ -126,7 +126,7 @@ Ioan
 :   It's hard to picture you as a tasker.
 
 Dear
-:   [laughter] Right, yes. As everything started to get cheaper, though, those distinctions began to emerge. By then, Michelle had a few long-lived instances, tagged as you are, Mx. #c1494bf.
+:   [laughter] Right, yes. As everything started to get cheaper, though, those distinctions began to emerge. By then, Michelle had few long-lived instances, tagged as you are, Mx. #c1494bf.
 
 Ioan
 :   [laughter] Thank you. This was before the Ode?
@@ -174,7 +174,7 @@ Ioan
 :   Have you?
 
 Dear
-:   [smiling, shrugging, mu-gesture] By virtue of our set-up, though, such forks are not members of the clade. Those forks are not named as such, and likely not in communication with any other cocladists aside from their immediate down-tree instance.
+:   [smiling, shrugging, paw-wave] By virtue of our set-up, though, such forks are not members of the clade. Those forks are not named as such, and likely not in communication with any other cocladists aside from their immediate down-tree instance.
 
 Ioan
 :   Is the Ode available somewhere for me to read?

content/read/042.md

@@ -48,11 +48,17 @@ A memory: RJ waking a few days? Weeks? RJ waking some time ago, years and years
 
 The tea was cool enough to drink, now, and so AwDae did.
 
-And when ey had half-finished the tea, the fox slid from eir perch on the counter and padded over to eir rig. Frowned. Why bother with such a thing? Instead, in its place should be a small, white room extending past the boundaries of eir flat. And there was.
+And when ey had half-finished the tea, the fox slid from eir perch on the counter and padded over to eir rig. Frowned. Why bother with such a thing? Instead, in its place should be a small, white room extending past the boundaries of eir flat.
 
-And when ey would step into that room, ey would cease to be a fox, but instead become fully immersed in memory, manipulating it with the same ease with which ey manipulated the acoustic space of the theater. And ey did.
+And there was.
 
-And when ey might think about what memories ey had, ey would find there, whole and uncorrupted, all of the information ey had been prowling through on Cicero's disappearance. No riddles to solve, no tricks, no mics, no paper. Ey would be able to expand across that sense that passed for sight in a fully immersive sim the entirety of the data. And ey could.
+And when ey would step into that room, ey would cease to be a fox, but instead become fully immersed in memory, manipulating it with the same ease with which ey manipulated the acoustic space of the theater.
+
+And ey did.
+
+And when ey might think about what memories ey had, ey would find there, whole and uncorrupted, all of the information ey had been prowling through on Cicero's disappearance. No riddles to solve, no tricks, no mics, no paper. Ey would be able to expand across that sense that passed for sight in a fully immersive sim the entirety of the data.
+
+And ey could.
 
 AwDae dreamt. Dreamt of work. Dreamt the table of Cicero's DDR votes, dreamt that it rotated in beautiful precision along any axis ey wished. Dreamt of the other cards in the deck, of recorded conversations and notes and last-connected times. Ey dreamt eir way through all of the data packed into the deck of vcards Sasha had given em so very, very long ago.
 
@@ -76,14 +82,14 @@ And ey dreamt of Sasha. Ey dreamt of everything about her. The subtle scent of d
 
 She was all there. All of her avatar. What ey remembered of their final conversation could be played out from start to finish between skunk and fox in perfect detail. Detail that could not be anything other than perfect. Detail that had to be perfect because eir exo had cached the skunk's av, just as it had cached eir flat and the Crown Pub.
 
-But she was not all there.
+But she was *not* all there.
 
 She was not there at all. Her avatar was a hollow shell that AwDae could make parrot her lines. It was a puppet. It was a sensory representation without context. A sign without an object, signifier without the signified.
 
 AwDae was in a hall of mirrors that allowed no one else but emself. She was not there and she could not be there because AwDae was lost, and when one is lost, one is alone in ways more fundamental than could be dreamt of in any solipsist's philosophy.
 
-What lives we lead we lead in memory, and the end of memory lies beneath the roots.
+*What lives we lead we lead in memory, and the end of memory lies beneath the roots.*
 
-Ey could not forget, for memory ends at the teeth of death and is wholly inaccessible to the living, because the living know that they will die, but the dead know nothing.
+Ey could not forget, for *memory ends at the teeth of death and is wholly inaccessible to the living, because the living know that they will die, but the dead know nothing.*
 
 And ey could not cry thus immersed.

content/read/043.md

@@ -28,7 +28,7 @@ The only occupied chairs along the entire hall were occupied with suits. Suits s
 
 *Well, shit.*
 
-There would be no backing up without increased culpability. She had been preempted. And why not? Dr. Carter Ramirez, researcher in the lost, was meant to be here, right?
+There would be no backing up without looking guiltier. She had been preempted. And why not? Dr. Carter Ramirez, researcher in the lost, was meant to be here, right?
 
 All she could do, all she could think to do, was nod to them politely and head to the nurse's station. "Good, uh...good afternoon."
 
@@ -44,7 +44,7 @@ No way around it. Carter thanked the nurse and, moving with as much calm as she
 
 A show summarily interrupted by Johannson.
 
-The director barrelled out of the room and nearly collided with the suits. His thick hands set on each of their shoulders, and, even from two rooms down, his rumble was clear. "Gentlemen, can I speak with you? I have some concerns about the patient."
+The director barrelled out of the room and nearly collided with the suits. His thick hands set on each of their shoulders, and, even from two rooms down, his baritone was clear. "Gentlemen, can I speak with you? I have some concerns about the patient."
 
 Nonplussed, the suits turned toward Johansson. "Sir, we are not--"
 

content/read/044.md

@@ -16,7 +16,7 @@ In the end, the clade was at the whims of that single individual's schedule.
 
 Some of the more liberal members wanted to bring others, as did Dear by bringing Ioan, and this set off another round of debate. Further delays. They decided that they would only bring informed participants who had already played a role in the project.
 
-With little else to do, Ioan read and waited. Ey read up on the history of the Ode clade. Ey read the Ode itself, hunting for hidden meanings. Ey read up on this form of public key encryption. Dear forked to teach em the encryption algorithm that used the deck of playing cards, and so ey read about manual encryption, and then the history of playing cards. Ey read and reread Ecclesiastes and all ey could about it. Ey even read about various mental vagaries and attempted to map them to Michelle Hadje, Qoheleth, Dear, and various members of the Clade which Dear talked (or, as time went on, ranted) about.
+With little else to do, Ioan read and waited. Ey read up on what history of the Ode clade ey could find — mostly musings on art and theatre. Ey read the Ode itself, hunting for hidden meanings. Ey read up on this form of public key encryption. Dear forked to teach em the encryption algorithm that used the deck of playing cards, and so ey read about manual encryption, and then the history of playing cards. Ey read and reread Ecclesiastes and all ey could about it. Ey even read about various mental vagaries and attempted to map them to Michelle Hadje, Qoheleth, Dear, and various members of the Clade which Dear talked (or, as time went on, ranted) about.
 
 This last was mostly for fun, but ey was also beginning to strategize eir report. More than a report, ey wanted to write something that would stand on its own. A book, perhaps, or at least an article. An essay and formal report for Dear, and a smoothed, anonymized version for wider publication. If the clade would let em, at least. Ey wanted the result to be readable, rather than simply an account of events. Something that would help explain the whys and hows of an older clade in turmoil. Something to express the rising panic ey felt about aging in a timeless place, about memory and the importance of forgetting.
 

content/read/045.md

@@ -30,7 +30,7 @@ The vote was not there, and yet the answer was. There was the shadow of intentio
 
 What mattered the vote? What mattered the comments? What mattered the content, the cost? What mattered the golden fleece, or any MacGuffin? It could have been a flashlight with an amber filter in a suitcase just as easily as it could have been a declaration of war against the Sino-Russian Bloc. Chekhov's vote.
 
-It did not matter. All that mattered is that those who had seen it --- had seen the vote, who had interacted with it, who had interacted with it at however many levels of remove --- were *personae non gratae* from that point on. Easier for them to not be. Easier to admit the mystery of the lost into the collective consciousness than to let such come to light. What cared the world of billions for the hundreds of lost? What cared the powers that be for the resistance of however many dozens that were now lost?
+It did not matter. All that mattered is that those who had seen it --- had seen the vote, who had interacted with it, who had interacted with it at however many levels of remove --- were *personae non gratae* from that point on. Easier for them to not be. Easier to admit the mystery of the lost into the collective consciousness than to let such come to light. What cared the world of billions for the hundreds of lost? What cared the powers that be for the resistance of however many dozens that were now beyond reach?
 
 Ey rambled beyond the deck, beyond eir flat, beyond Prisca. Ey wandered across the interior of eir skull until ey stepped up onto the stoop of eir exo.
 

content/read/047.md

@@ -24,7 +24,7 @@ Of those that bore forms other than fox and human, Ioan could not tell. Ey suppo
 
 Ey nodded. "I look much how I did before, yes, though I've made a few changes."
 
-*"Changes require forking, though, yes? And if forking is expensive..."* The fox trailed off, shrugged.
+*"Many changes require forking, though, yes? And if forking is expensive..."* The fox trailed off, shrugged.
 
 Ey supposed it was due to the individual preferences that each long-lived fork had gained in its time away from the root of the clade once forking became cheaper. The remaining Odists who had not changed --- or who had changed very little --- even after the cost had come down were the ones who Ioan suspected Dear referred to as "conservatives".
 

content/read/048.md

@@ -1,6 +1,6 @@
 # AwDae --- 2112
 
-"Time is a finger pointed at itself," AwDae informed Priscilla. This Priscilla. Not the real one, no. The one ey created. The one ey dreamed. "That it might give the world orders. The world is an audience before a stage where it watches the slow hours progress."
+"Time is a finger pointing at itself," AwDae informed Priscilla. This Priscilla. Not the real one, no. The one ey created. The one ey dreamed. "That it might give the world orders. The world is an audience before a stage where it watches the slow hours progress."
 
 The cat purred to em.
 

content/read/049.md

@@ -4,7 +4,7 @@ Aha! Dear sent a sensorium message. A view of a crowd and it announcing that the
 
 A bit strange to not see Michelle herself there. Not only that, but to have not heard from her, either. On consideration, I am not too surprised that she will not be showing up --- not happy, granted, but not surprised --- but I am a bit miffed that I have yet to hear from her. Perhaps she struggles still.
 
-Will make a note to contact her down the line. While I suspect she may be perhaps the most broken of all of us, that is not to say that she is safe from this building problem as well, nor that she is necessarily safe simply by virtue of being the root instance. We know madness, do we not?
+Will make a note to contact her down the line. While I suspect she may be perhaps the most broken of all of us, that is not to say that she is safe from this particular building problem as well, nor that she is necessarily safe simply by virtue of being the root instance. We know madness, do we not?
 
 I am going to shut down all the exits from this room so that there will be less incentive to wander away. Not that I have a whole lot left, mind. I had probably better increase the size, too, in order to fit everyone comfortably. How much room does each Odist need? How much space does one two-hundred twenty year old mind, copied 100 times over, occupy?
 

content/read/050.md

@@ -14,7 +14,7 @@ A man appeared on the platform.
 
 Qoheleth.
 
-Ioan wasn't sure how ey knew. It was a primal knowledge, an immediate judgement than *must* be correct, something more than what was implied by him being there, in that place at that time. Qoheleth.
+Ioan wasn't sure how ey knew. It was a primal knowledge, an immediate judgement that *must* be correct, something more than what was implied by him being there, in that place at that time. Qoheleth.
 
 He was about Dear's height, a touch heavier, and had affected a greying beard and receding hairline. His clothes were a simple cream tunic and trousers of...was that leather? Coarse linen blurred by distance and softened by age?  Atop it all, a ruddy brown robe.
 

content/read/051.md

@@ -2,13 +2,13 @@
 
 I have them! I finally, really, truly have them!
 
-I don not know that I have them all hooked, not completely, but I did it. I set my mind in motion by will alone. I count those who are not hooked. Mostly first and second lines, mostly like me. How did they go so wrong, though? I am a first-line instance. Michelle's second fork, even, and I did not turn out so bad. Did I?
+I don not know that I have them all hooked, not completely, but I did it. What was it? I set my mind in motion by will alone? I count those who are not hooked. Mostly first and second lines, mostly like me. How did they go so wrong, though? I am a first-line instance. Michelle's second fork, even, and I did not turn out so bad. Did I?
 
 Well, I turned out pretty messed up, but only because I suffered the same fate that they all will. Perhaps were already! Only I suffered it a little bit earlier. I started going bonkers from the sheer amount of stuff in my head. I started living too long, living my Methuselah life while still having my Michelle mind. Nothing was getting out of my head. Nothing *could* get out of my head. An impossible poison.
 
 Oh, and I have such grand plans!
 
-Grand plans of organizing a petition among all the founders and old clades, with the Ode clade leading and me leading them in turn. A petition to the System engineers to hire some damn developers again and stop treating this like abandonware. Abandonware that gives them, what, a dumping ground for the poor and a small brain trust? Get some devs in there and give us the ability forget and the ability to die. Hell, maybe even the ability to reproduce, to breed. The word is even in my name --- my old name --- for chrissake.
+Grand plans of organizing a petition among all the founders and old clades, with the Ode clade leading and me leading them in turn. A petition to the System engineers to hire some damn developers again and stop treating this like abandonware. Abandonware that gives them a dumping ground for the poor and a small brain trust. Get some devs in there and give us the ability forget and the ability to die. Hell, maybe even the ability to reproduce, to breed. The word is even in my name --- my old name --- for chrissake.
 
 As I continue through my spiel, I can tell I am hooking the liberals. The later stanzas, most of all. Dear's sold completely, I can see it on its face. Can see it on Dear's other fox sib, on Praiseworthy. Dear's whole stanza.
 

content/read/052.md

@@ -124,7 +124,7 @@ Had it?
 
 Had *any* time gone by?
 
-Carter could feel the maddening influence of this non-place, so detailed in appearance. She could feel the way the dream buffeted her, drew smudging lines away from her mind. Pulled at words, wrapped her in blankets of language. unforgotten. Something innate made real. Memory froze, and forgetting was forgotten. And yet, when she focused, she could still feel that cool breeze of the exit behind her. She focused on that.
+Carter could feel the maddening influence of this non-place, so detailed in appearance. She could feel the way the dream buffeted her, drew smudging lines away from her mind. Pulled at words, wrapped her in blankets of language. Unforgotten. Something innate made real. Memory froze, and forgetting was forgotten. And yet, when she focused, she could still feel that cool breeze of the exit behind her. She focused on that.
 
 "Thank you, AwDae," she said when ey finally fell silent. "This confirms much of what we learned in the lab and in talking with Sasha."
 

content/read/053.md

@@ -8,7 +8,7 @@ It was Ioan, Dear, Serene, and Praiseworthy --- the first line of the stanza and
 
 Dear's partner greeted them at the door, silent. Perhaps Dear had sent ahead a message, for they greeted the group and then stayed out of the way. They disappeared and returned shortly with mugs of coffee.
 
-The four witnesses slumped into the couch. A universal sigh. Dear and Serene leaning against each other, and Dear's partner claimed on a stolen dining-room chair nearby.
+The four witnesses slumped into the couch. A universal sigh. Dear and Serene leaned against each other, and Dear's partner claimed on a stolen dining-room chair nearby.
 
 "So," they said, finally. "What happened?"
 
@@ -26,7 +26,7 @@ Praiseworthy shrugged, looking what Ioan thought might be glum, though her gestu
 
 Ioan turned to Dear. "You alright?"
 
-It was a moment in responding before it nodded. *"I am with Praiseworthy. I am not surprised, but not happy. Rather pissed, actually,"* it said, smiling sardonically. *"That was short-sighted of them, though, because I have a hunch that Qoheleth was right."*
+It was a moment in responding before it nodded. *"I am with Praiseworthy. I am not surprised, but not happy,"* it said, smiling sardonically. *"Rather pissed, actually. That was short-sighted of them, though, because I have a hunch that Qoheleth was right."*
 
 ""Right"?"
 
@@ -36,7 +36,7 @@ It was a moment in responding before it nodded. *"I am with Praiseworthy. I am n
 
 Dear shot a glance at its partner, laughed. *"You two get along, I see. Yes, it does. I think I did it, too, unless there is some association I missed.  I cannot remember it for the life of me."*
 
-"You will have to tell me how you did that, Dear." Serene laughed.
+"You will have to tell me how you did that, Dear," Serene said.
 
 *"Later, yes. I think Qoheleth was right, though. We need forgetting. We need breeding and change and death."*
 
@@ -56,7 +56,7 @@ Ioan nodded.
 
 Ioan and Dear's partner shook their heads, while both Serene and Praiseworthy frowned.
 
-*"The origin of the system came from the lost, from the turmoils of the early twenty-second century, though one could perhaps trace roots further back into the twenty-first. Prior to the system, the 'net on Earth required engaging with through another thing called exocortices. Implants along the spine, with tendrils trailing along nerves."*
+*"The origin of the system came from the lost, from the turmoils of the early twenty-second century, though one could perhaps trace roots further back into the twenty-first. Prior to the System, the 'net on Earth required engaging with through another thing called exocortices. Implants along the spine, with tendrils trailing along nerves."*
 
 Serene and Praiseworthy both reached up to rub at the backs of their necks.
 
@@ -76,7 +76,7 @@ Serene slouched against Dear's side, poking its thigh. "I understand what you ar
 
 Dear's partner, frowned. "Neither do I, fox."
 
-The fennec laughed and shook its head, ears flopping about. *"Trust me, I do not either. I do not think many do. I just think we need death, or something like it, as part of the system. Death. Fear of death. Needs and reasons to survive in the face of an inevitable end."*
+The fennec laughed and shook its head, ears flopping about. *"Trust me, I do not either. I do not think many do. I just think we need death, or something like it, as part of the System. Death. Fear of death. Needs and reasons to survive in the face of an inevitable end."*
 
 ""Something like it"?" asked Praiseworthy.
 

content/read/054.md

@@ -98,7 +98,7 @@ The sun rose and set with a frightening hum/utter tranquility.
 
 She stood/she stood.
 
-Poetry coursed through her, half remembered/perfectly memorized lines from productions long past. Lines from school, from work. "Since then --- 'tis centuries --- and yet feels shorter than the day I first surmised the horse's heads were toward eternity ---"
+Poetry coursed through her, half remembered/perfectly memorized lines from productions long past. Lines from school, from work. "Since then --- 'tis Centuries --- and yet Feels shorter than the Day I first surmised the Horse's Heads Were toward Eternity ---"
 
 It *had* been centuries for her, and yet each felt shorter than the crash to the ground from out of the perilous heights of the embodied world. *Time feels so vast that were it not For an Eternity...*
 
@@ -138,7 +138,7 @@ Or not. A neck-ache. Something was tearing at the back of the neck/through the f
 
 "I'm going to stop mirroring now. This is horrifying," she said to the wood of the bar. She did not know who said the last, Debarre or herself. Was there a difference?
 
-And then, a hand on her shoulder. One of her shoulders. The sensation made her hair/fur stand on end. She turned around, and there was Debarre. Or so she guessed. The grey, default avatar. The figure frowned as he looked between the two of her. Looked at Michelle/looked at Sasha.
+And then, a hand on her shoulder. One of her shoulders. The sensation made her hair/fur stand on end, made her stomach churn. She turned around, and there was Debarre. Or so she guessed. The grey, default avatar. The figure frowned as he looked between the two of her. Looked at Michelle/looked at Sasha.
 
 "I...what? Sasha?"
 

content/read/055.md

@@ -40,7 +40,7 @@ Ey explained eir goals to Ioan#Tracker. Ey frowned, but agreed, requesting a mer
 
 \#c1494bf was startled by a pang of jealousy. The experience had felt so hard-won, more so than most of eir experiences. To leave #Tracker burdened with it while ey went off to have further experiences felt like an intrusion. To create a long-lived fork was a new thing, though, and ey supposed there would be many discussions on it to come.
 
-Ey forked into #0224ebe8, a signifier that felt somehow familiar, and then #c1494bf quit, letting #Tracker handle the merge. Eir frown deepened, and the two agreed that they would talk about it in the future.
+Ey forked off a new instance and then quit, letting #Tracker handle the merge while ey — this new instance of em — lived on. Eir frown deepened, and the two agreed that they would talk about it in the future.
 
 The new fork bowed, then headed to that delightfully modern house on the prairie.
 
@@ -82,7 +82,7 @@ The fox's ears bobbed as it nodded. *"So it is no surprise that you might feel a
 
 "Precisely. It was strange," ey mused. "When #Tracker-- when Ioan asked that I merge, I felt a bit of jealousy, and I wasn't quite sure why. Despite all of the other projects that I've approached with a fork leading to no such feelings, something about this one made it feel like a stranger was asking me to give up something intimate."
 
-Dear laughed. *"The very thing that keeps me from being anything other than a dispersionista. Jealousy is a sign of needs not met, and one of my needs --- one of the clade's needs --- is that of ownership over memory. I would be quite furious if Praiseworthy asked me to merge with her."*
+Dear laughed. *"The very thing that keeps me from being anything other than a dispersionista. Jealousy is a sign of needs not met, and one of my needs --- one of the clade's needs --- is that of ownership over memory. We would be quite furious if Praiseworthy asked me to merge with her."*
 
 Ey grinned and nodded.
 

content/read/056.md

@@ -4,7 +4,7 @@
 
 "I think that this applies to more than just the sense that it has come to mean here and now. I think that if you go for a walk in a strange city and get lost, there is some aspect of that which is similar to madness. You walk the strange streets and see the strange people and strange buildings, and eventually, it all seems to blur together and your thoughts wander. They wander beyond the limits of your body and your mind. They soar above the city and try to make sense of these unknown, shifting shapes. They try to draw sensible paths from the turns you took. I turned left there, did I not? Or did I?"
 
-The sombre group of diverse species was mostly looking at her. Animals of all shapes, anthropomorphism of all levels. Even some humans, for there was Carter, looking much as she had at that first ceremony.
+The somber group of diverse species was mostly looking at her. Animals of all shapes, anthropomorphism of all levels. Even some humans, for there was Carter, looking much as she had at that first ceremony.
 
 And some looked down. AwDae looked at her, keen-eyed. Debarre looked down, shaking with sobs.
 

content/read/058.md

@@ -16,7 +16,7 @@ It is just that the call is too strong.
 
 I have volunteered for an early procedure. A way back. Or, rather, a way to a new place. A way to be embedded within a system, rather than simply within a hall of mirrors. I cannot say where, other than it is not in the Western Fed. All I can tell you is that the world should expect big things when it comes to what we have learned from the lost.
 
-I will not say that there is no chance that we may some day meet again. My body will die, I'm told, but should my mind and my sense of self miraculously survive, then I will be on my own once more. This time, however, it will be my choice.
+I will not say that there is no chance that we may some day meet again. My body will die, I am told, but should my mind and my sense of self miraculously survive, then I will be on my own once more. This time, however, it will be my choice.
 
 There will be those who come after. Perhaps *you* will come after. Perhaps you will yearn for that return to the eternal dream where memory does not die. And maybe those who come after will do so for other reasons, but they will come.