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-# True Name --- 2124
+# Yared Zerezghi --- 2124
 
-It had initially taken some getting used to, meeting with one's up- or cross-tree instances. Michelle, in her role in helping tie the cost of forking to the reputation markets, had certainly done it a number of times before, but, as the cost of a new fork was only applied five minutes after it had been created, all of her forks to date had been short-lived in order to conserve her reputation for some imagined future date.
+For the first time since their arrangement had begun, Yared was greeted at his own door, rather than at the coffee shop down on the corner.
 
-The date had come and gone, now, so True Name --- and likely all of the other Odists --- had had to learn how to interact with the other copies of Michelle Hadje/Sasha that had sprung so quickly into being and immediately began to diverge.
+He had yet to start his day, instead reveling in the cool quiet of the morning, before the sun levered itself up over the roof of his building to shine through his window and before the thrum of the air conditioning took over. The cool, the quiet, his pillow, his sheets, and the blessed nullity of not yet being awake enough to think, to worry.
 
-The fact that those who matched Michelle and those who matched Sasha were evenly distributed had helped at first. There had been some oddness in talking to a Michelle-alike, given the countless memories of the constant shifting between the two forms, but that had had a different flavor to it than talking to another Sasha-alike. Seeing a form and a face that so clearly mirrored her own was not exactly unnerving so much as uncanny.
+At least the knock on his door was polite.
 
-As the days and weeks went by, however, the forks diverged further and further, and different cares painted different faces, different habits were formed and dropped, and it became less like talking to an alternate version of oneself and more like talking to a twin, a sibling.
+He hurried to throw on his clothes and kick his bed into something resembling a made state, toss last night's take-out container in the trash, and rub the last of the sleep from his eyes before answering the door.
 
-So it was when The Only Time I Know My True Name Is When I Dream met with That Which Lives Is Forever Praiseworthy.
+"Mr. Zerezghi." Councilor Demma's driver nodded cordially. "The councilor would like to speak with you at your earliest convenience."
 
-Her initial impression is that the other skunk had shifted her wardrobe to look more professional, choosing a loose-fitting pantsuit in muted blue that had been in style before Michelle had uploaded. This also included a pair of pince nez glasses perched atop her muzzle which, when True Name inquired, Praiseworthy explained were non-prescription, and "something I am just trying for the moment. They are quite annoying, but still fetching."
+*At your earliest convenience* seemed to imply right now, so Yared nodded and kicked on his sandals to follow the suit out of the hallway and into the street. The pavement and buildings had yet to start to bake, but he could tell that it would be another day of hiding inside, or skittering from one air-conditioned place to another.
 
-Beyond that, however, Praiseworthy had decided to divest herself of many of the personality traits that had made Sasha Sasha. Gone were those aspects of childishness that Michelle had long held onto, and gone was the exhaustion that had lingered for years after getting lost.
+*If I make it through this,* he thought.
 
-*I have changed, too, at that,* True Name thought. *I have become the politician, working with Jonas. Praiseworthy has become something else.*
+Demma's car was parked down the block and on the other side of the street, and Yared was pleased to see a carrier with three paper coffee cups in it sitting on the roof. If nothing else, he'd be able to wake up a little, and that would provide him some semblance of normalcy to this strange shift in protocol.
 
-The two skunks shook paws, and then Praiseworthy drew True Name into a hug. It was surprising. Something about it felt both natural and performative, as though this was just a thing that one did when one had a role to play.
+"Yared, wonderful to see you. I trust you are alright?" Demma said, once he was seated in the car, coffee in hand. It felt far too chilly.
 
-"True Name," Praiseworthy said. Her smile was warm and earnest, and she spoke with willing paws, palms up. "It is nice to see you again."
+"I'm well, councilor. I wasn't expecting to talk until later today."
 
-She laughed. "I suppose so. You have changed quite a bit in so short a time."
+The politician waved the statement away and nodded toward the driver, who slid the car smoothly out into the street and drove towards, Yared assumed, the city center.
 
-The other skunk bowed, laughing. "As have you, my dear! And that is why you have come here, is it not?"
+"I must apologize for waking you early. Please, enjoy your coffee for a moment. I am happy to enjoy the scenery for a while."
 
-"I guess it is, yes. The more I work with Jonas, and the more I talk with the Council and phys-side --- the more politicking that I do --- the more I feel the ways in which my attitude and expressions are lacking."
+Something about that statement, or perhaps Demma's tone of voice, made it sound more like a command than a suggestion, so Yared did just that, sipping on his coffee as it cooled as his mind raced. *Did I do something wrong? Am I being taken to prison? No, almost certainly not, if Councilor Demma is here. Why am I being made to wait? Am I supposed to feel uncomfortable, or does he actually just want me awake?*
 
-Praiseworthy nodded. "Yes, you do still have some of the stiffness about you, and there are some sharp edges that could do with softening."
+After Yared finished his coffee and set his cup aside, Demma smiled.
 
-"Softening?"
+"Mr. Zerezghi, I would like to thank you for all of your work on the project at hand. I believe that we have both seen the ways in which it is shaping the discussion on our small part of the 'net, yes? There are other forces at work, to be sure, but your voice is loud, and our little faction is adding in resources behind the scenes, as you have no doubt noticed."
 
-"Yes. It is mostly a matter of appearance and affect, though. You should not blunt your wit or intellect, just your tone and features."
+Yared nodded, waiting for the hammer to fall.
 
-True Name frowned. "I am not sure what you mean by blunting or softening, though."
+"I would, however, like to know the identity of who your contacts are, sys-side."
 
-Praiseworthy took her gently by the elbow and started walking through the grass. They had decided to meet on a portion of Michelle's dandelion-ridden sim, far away from their root instance, but in a place that was still familiar to both.
+He tilted his head. "What? Why?"
 
-"Take your walk, for instance. Even now, as we are just out for a stroll, you walk with purpose. Your shoulders move too much. Remember, if you keep them pointed straight ahead and shift the rolling motion to your hips, it will lead to others seeing more feminine aspects in you."
+Demma sighed and set aside his own coffee. "I have a suspicion that I know who one of them is, and I would like confirmation of that. I would appreciate if you would tell me, so that I do not need to tip my hand and send you hunting him down. You understand."
 
-She tried to keep her shoulders still as they walked, immediately feeling a slight strain in her hips.
+"I suppose." Yared bit his lip and considered the possible consequences of sharing the names of his contacts, deciding that if he shared just one, that perhaps that would be enough without compromising the identity of both. "You say 'he'. The man that I'm in discussions with is named Jonas. Is that the one you're thinking of?"
 
-Praiseworthy laughed. "You do not need to keep them level to the ground, just perpendicular to the direction you are walking in. But here, no need to practice too hard. Fork, holding in your mind a pelvis just a hair wider than your own, but keeping your hips the same width. It will mean slimming down a little."
+The councilor sighed and slouched back into the cushy microfiber seat. "Yes. I was afraid of that."
 
-"I can do that?"
+"How so?"
 
-"Of course. Zeke dreamed some algorithmic magic behind the scenes. You can fork yourself into most anything that can be consensually held in the mind."
+"He is a very slippery man, Yared. While I suppose that it's nice that his goals align with ours on the issue of rights and secession --- I can read between the lines as well as he can, I know who he's tapped phys-side --- that is not always guaranteed to be the case." He finished his own coffee and accepted Yared's cup when offered to dispose of in the trash. "Slippery and manipulative. I worry that you are at risk of being played by him, of becoming his puppet."
 
-True Name nodded warily, holding this new image of herself in her mind.
+*Aren't I already yours?* he thought. Instead, he said, "He seems friendly enough, but I guess I can see how that might be used to guide me. He hasn't asked for any favors or anything, at least."
 
-"Perfect," Praiseworthy said, moving to take this new fork by the elbow and nodding to the original instance of the skunk. "Now you quit. No need to incur a charge. Michelle, no need to accept further memories from us for the day."
+"And have you told him about our little agreement?" When Yared quailed under Demma's gaze, the councilor shook his head. "I cannot say I'm pleased, Mr. Zerezghi, but I'm also not particularly surprised."
 
-The skunks tilted their heads in unison.
+Yared wiped his palms against his thighs, shaking his head. "He guessed, councilor. He asked, and even knew it was you. I'm sorry, sir, I don't think there's anything I could have done to stop him from doing that."
 
-"Michelle will be getting a pile of memories, if she wants, as I will have you fork a few more times yet. I have been letting her know when she can ignore further merges, as I have done this quite often."
+"Oh, did he now?" Demma's laugh was earnest. "I'm not particularly surprised at that, either, and I suppose it does let you off the hook somewhat, doesn't it?"
 
-The first True Name nodded, then disappeared.
+All he could think to do was nod.
 
-True Name felt down her flanks, taking a few more steps and finding it far easier to walk casually and still keep her shoulders pointed forward. She nodded approvingly. "Excellent. What other suggestions do you have?"
+"Well, if Jonas Anderson has figured out what we're up to, that does change things somewhat. I know that our latest suggestion was that you mention independence for the first time. I'd like to modify that somewhat, if you haven't already written your post."
 
-"For your role, you will need to carefully balance cute, attractive, and competent. If you go too far towards cute, then it will be difficult for you to be taken seriously. The same if you go too far attractive because you will be just a pretty face. If you go too far competent, you will be seen as dour and unpleasant."
+"Not yet. I was going to do it this morning before our usual meeting."
 
-Praiseworthy stopped her and turned her gently to look at her face.
+"Yes, well, do hold off for a little longer. I would like you to change it so that you quote Jonas in mentioning independence. Do keep his name out of your posts, of course. It's probably best that he remain your 'friend' and not 'one of the slickest politicians in the Western Federation' when people read what you have to say." Demma smiled kindly, adding, "And if I may ask you a favor, please don't consult him about this post before you send it. You're welcome to keep talking with him and whoever his companion is, we won't restrict your access to that. Perhaps they're even another copy of him. I just want to hear what his reaction is when you put the word 'independence' in his mouth."
 
-"Now, first, your eyes will need to be just a hair larger, your ears slightly rounder, your cheeks fuller, and you will need fewer but longer whiskers. Can you hold those in your mind?"
+"Of course, sir."
 
-She closed her eyes, picturing what she knew of herself in her mind, and forked.
+Nodding, the councilor said, "Thank you, Yared. I'm glad to see that we are more on the same page, now. Stay wary of Jonas Anderson, maintain your friendship, and keep me up to date about the things that he says that don't make it into your posts. As long as our goals align, we should be able to work together through you."
 
-"Goodness."
+"You won't talk to him?" Yared asked.
 
-She opened her eyes again to look at the fork, immediately laughing and shaking her head.
+"That's far to risky for my current position. It's plausibly deniable that you were already talking to him before we reached our agreement, should that agreement be made public. It's true enough, isn't it? If I were to talk to him, though..." He trailed off with a shrug and a half-smile.
 
-"Am I cute?" the new skunk asked.
+"I understand."
 
-"Adorable, but that is not quite the direction we want to go. You look closer to a teddy bear."
+"I'm glad that you do." Demma flicked his eyes up to the driver's rear-view mirror, and the car slid to a halt in a parking spot. "Mr. Zerezghi, a pleasure as always. We will be keeping an eye out for your post later today."
 
-She rolled her eyes, then quit.
+Yared sat up, looking out through the window at the outskirts of the financial district. It would easily be an hour's walk back to his apartment, and about as long of a bus-ride. He didn't even have his phone.
 
-"Let us try one at a time. You will need to work fairly quickly to avoid the hit in reputation. Fork once, and then that fork will continue to look as you do now, while you work progressively on each of those steps." When True Name did so, Praiseworthy nodded. "First, rounder ears."
+The councilor was already holding his hand out to shake, so there seemed to be no argument that this is where he should leave. He shook the hand, climbed out of the car, and watched it slide off into traffic once more.
 
-The new fork perked up when her down-tree instance forked and quit, the new instance having slightly rounder ears. She nodded, smiling.
+Trudging to the nearest bus stop, he thought, *I suppose as long as this is the only punishment that I get, I shouldn't be too concerned.*
 
-"Excellent. Now the whiskers. Great. Cheeks? And...eyes. Fantastic." Praiseworthy smiled after all the forking had been completed, then nodded to the first of the new instances, who quit.
+At least the bus was air conditioned, and it gave him time to draft his post in his head.
 
-The option for a rush of memories was provided to True Name, who, on a whim, accepted it, now remembering what it had looked like from the outside as her face had grown...well, cuter. It had worked well.
-
-The two skunks worked through a short laundry list of changes. True Name grew an inch or so taller, her shoulders became the slightest bit flatter without getting broader, her back straighter.
-
-One last time, she forked to get a good look at herself to compare with what she remembered from before the process.
-
-She was, indeed, cuter, but this was tempered by a more conventionally attractive body type, staying shy of being both adorable and overtly attractive. This somehow combined into a look that was more professional. It made her look, she realized, like a public figure.
-
-"Oh, this is delightful."
-
-Praiseworthy beamed. "I am glad that you enjoy."
-
-They worked next on how to better her affect. Smile more earnestly, laugh more easily, transition from those expressions to stern or confident or pitying. There were a few more forks as they worked on ways to soften True Name's voice, pitching it just a little lower, rounding some of the vowels, practicing elocution. With each fork, she found that the lessons stuck more firmly. Perhaps what was in her mind before became more cemented in place.
-
-Finally, Praiseworthy had True Name practice forking into a Michelle-form for situations where a skunk would be out of place, and then they worked on perfecting that version of her, as well. It was surprising, at first, that she could even make so great a change with one fork, but then, she remembered precisely what it had felt like to be Michelle, just as she remembered what it felt like to be Sasha.
-
-Eventually, when the practice and modifications had wrapped up, nearly two hours later, the two skunks sat at the top of a low raise in the landscape, and True Name discussed the other reason that she had sought out Praiseworthy.
-
-"I need help in spreading ideas. I know that you have settled back into acting and directing, but I do not have the time or energy to guide emotions and reactions to news while still working on this political angle." She plucked a few blades of grass, rolling them into little balls between fingerpads. "I know that propaganda is not the same thing as theater, but would you be willing--"
-
-"Yes!" Praiseworthy laughed. "Of course I would be willing to help. There is more than a little propagandizing in trying to get actors to do their fucking jobs, even when the actors are yourself. What precisely do you need? Speeches? Words whispered here and there? Posters?"
-
-True Name laughed and shook her head. "Not quite the answer that I was expecting, but yes. Speeches and letters specifically. Some geared toward phys-side, some toward the Council, and probably a few towards other groups sys-side. I would not turn down a few words whispered here and there, though that will take some strategizing. There will be an instance of Jonas who will be working with you in shaping sentiment, as well."
-
-"I will look forward to it, then."
-
-They sat for a while in the sun, each looking out into the fields. At one point, Praiseworthy took off her glasses and set them on the bridge of True Name's muzzle, shook her head, and slid them into a jacket pocket.
-
-It was good to be around oneself, True Name realized. There was none of the pressure involved with interacting with others, none of the careful maneuvering required when talking with Jonas. They could just sit there, side by side, and understand that there was nothing between them that the other did not also, at least to some extent, understand.
-
-"Have you talked to many others in the clade?" Praiseworthy asked.
-
-She shook her head. "Here and there. I have a meeting scheduled with Life Breeds Life, but that is about it. You?"
-
-"You were the last I had yet to speak with. It is interesting to see how we have each decided to focus on different areas. You dove hard into the political angle. I tried to get back to theatre, but enough of that desire remained in me that your propaganda job sounds fun. Life Breeds Life is quite strange. He has been focusing--"
-
-"He?"
-
-Praiseworthy shrugged. "I guess. He has been focusing on historical stuff. Documenting this and that, digging into old things. I have no idea where that came from. Loss For Images is writing, these days. May One Day is fiddling with reputation markets --- or at least as much as Debarre will let her --- and last I heard, Hammered Silver has just been either chilling here with Michelle or sim-hopping."
-
-"How is she, anyway?"
-
-"Michelle?" Praiseworthy frowned, ears tilting back. "Much the same. I think the last of her energy went into us, and she is...I do not know. Empty? She spends a lot of time sleeping, a lot of time sitting and thinking. She came to a play, but left partway through. She is still of two minds."
-
-"And she still has not explained why she never fixed it?"
-
-The skunk shook her head.
-
-"Any guesses?"
-
-"Nothing solid."
-
-True Name nodded and turned her gaze back to the rolling plain. So much grass. So many dandelions. "There is a time and a place for dwelling in memory," she said. "But Michelle does nothing else. It is no wonder she is stuck. When...when ey died, I think she began to as well. When she she dumped the last of herself into the Ode, she sealed the deal."
-
-Praiseworthy said nothing.
-
-"She is dead, I think. There is no more life in her. There is nothing to be done but let her enjoy that death as long as she would like. I do not expect that she will come back."
-
-The other skunk drew her knees to her chest and folded her arms across them. "I think you may be right in that. Let her do what makes herself happy while her shade remains."
-
-"I wonder if she knows it, yet," True Name said, then let silence fall again. The two sat together, watching as afternoon slid carefully into evening.
+> I cannot express just how pleased I am to say that I have no arguments to dispute, this time!
+> 
+> It's tempting to slack off in one's campaigning when things start to swing one's way, but even I know that complacency will provide a wedge for dissenters to gain a foothold, so, despite the heat, I'm back with another of my posts. You'll all have to live with me so long as this issue is on the table, and doubtless, you'll have to keep living with me once I pick up my next little fixation. Both friends and foes will understand, even if their opinions of that fact differ.
+>
+> Today, then, instead of refuting arguments, I'd just like to express some of my gratitude and provide an overview of what is going on and why it is that I'm so pleased.
+>
+> First, I'm happy to see that the argument about speciation has all but stopped as an argument about independence. Oh, sure, it continues elsewhere on the 'net, but it's been all but dropped from the comments about this referendum. It remains fascinating to many of us, of course. The more I talk with my friends sys-side, the more I find myself split on the idea, and even they seem to have their own opinions on it. One of them said, "Who even cares? We're still ourselves," to which the other responded, "Right, but just think about how much of a wrench that it will throw into evolution."
+>
+> Second, I'm happy to see the amendment to move the System to the L<sub>5</sub> station has been tacked onto the bill. It's mostly a formality, at this point. Those who work with the System phys-side have already signed a deal with the launch coordinators, and the amendment is simply to recognize that this is the case from a governmental point of view. It may make talking to my friends somewhat more difficult, due to the transmission delay, but I'm sure we'll survive. When I joked to them that, in space, no one can hear their ceaseless banter, they agreed that it was probably for the best, and said that they were looking forward to moving to cooler climes.
+>
+> Last, of course, I'm pleased to see the interest that the world's governments are taking in the issue. Sure, that means that our role here on the DDR is diminished, but *it is not gone.* We have as much a say in the legislation as any one of them does. This is where my caution about not slacking off will pay off. We have the S-R Bloc on our side, and the various African coalitions are drifting that way as well. The Western Fed seems to be cautiously on board. But we are still waiting on hearing from the middle eastern countries, Japan, and SEAPAC, which means that we will need to stay vigilant. While I suspect that Japan will side with individual rights, and the middle east will remain largely apathetic, I have no idea which way SEAPAC will swing, so our vote must still be counted among them as a voice in favor of the referendum.
+>
+> Now, instead of arguing any further points, I'd like to provide you with something lighter. I know that many enjoy the little snippets of conversation that I have with my friends sys-side, so I'm going to share a bit more of that with you. It's fun, yes, but I hope that it will continue to build empathy with them and their existence, even if I am not any good at writing anything beyond polemics on the 'net. As always, I will be protecting their identities, so I will go with John and Tara for their names.
+>
+> When John joked about moving to the coldness of space, I, naturally, complained about the heat.
+>
+> "How hot is it there?" he asked.
+>
+> I said, "Right now? About 43C."
+>
+> Tara said, "Yeowch. That is far too warm." (This is not actually what she said. She has quite a mouth on her, but I will soften that for the sake of propriety.)
+>
+> John said, "You're covered almost entirely in black fur. You'd be warm in Antarctica."
+>
+> She responded, "Well, yes, I am *here*. If I were actually in Antarctica, however, I would not be covered by fur that is a part of my body. A fur coat might be nice, however."
+>
+> I asked, "How does that work, anyway? Do you feel like a human except in a different shape?"
+>
+> Her response was a while in coming. "Yes and no. I look different, to be sure. Anyone who has seen a furry can probably imagine what that means. My av on the 'net allowed me some sensation of that, in that I was provided with a vague sense of touch on my tail, and the sensation of my ears had been moved higher up on my head to approximate the location where the ears of [my species] are located. Having a muzzle worked well enough. Here, though, the proprioception is complete in a way that an avatar could not hope to be. It made the avatar feel more like a set of clothes and a mask than it did an actual form. Here, it is my form. It made my avatar feel almost cartoonish, with the standard fur patterns a bit too exact and the claws on my fingers nearly identical. Here it can be --- must be --- as detailed as I would like. My claws wear at different rates, fur colors mingle organically. That is a sign of aposematism, did you know that? It is a warning to those who would attack to stay away. I could even smell like my species, should I choose, though I have not."
+>
+> John said, "Confirmed. She smells like flowers."
+>
+> I asked, "Why did you choose that form?"
+>
+> She said, "Because I wanted to and I could. It is what I am used to from my time before uploading. I think that I originally chose it for that concept of aposematism. I had probably gone through a bad breakup and was looking for something that said, "Stay away, I am independent." I had terrible luck with relationships."
+>
+> John said, "She's more independent than is good for her, sometimes."
+>
+> As this was the point in the conversation that I figured I might include it in a post, I guided it toward the topic at hand, saying, "Is that why you're so interested in individual rights?"
+>
+> Tara said, "Yes, in a way. You have to understand, though, that many of the arguments against them that you have shared sound mind-boggling at best, impossible at worst."
+>
+> John said, "We're more independent than I think a lot of people phys-side give us credit for. You keep talking of us as though we're almost a separate country, and honestly, you're not wrong. We've been questioning what the reasoning is for retaining dual citizenship other than for governments that essentially have no power over us to claim the rights to whatever it is we send out. We're ungovernable by conventional standards, and I wouldn't be surprised if someone does file a referendum for us to drop the pretense and become our own country in the next few months."
+>
+> I asked, "If you did, would you participate alongside the other world governments?"
+>
+> John said, "Maybe on some things, but we wouldn't be able to relate to much in the way of legislation."
+>
+> Tara said, "If we do, John will have to be the representative. He is the politician."
+>
+> John replied, "You keep saying you're not a politician like that does anything to convince people that you are anything but, my dear."
+>
+> I let them banter for a bit. The only other salient point was brought up by John, who said, "If a vote for independence does show up, make sure you vote for it. It'll make all of our lives so, so much easier."
+>
+> So, that was our conversation. I hope that this helps you understand a bit more what the lives of those who live sys-side are like. They joke around. They have strong opinions. They can look like anthropomorphic animals if they want. Who cares if they're human? Who cares if their bodies have died? They're just as real as any of us, and they deserve all of the same rights.
+>
+> Vote for the granting of rights. Vote yes on *referendum 10b30188*.
+>
+> Yared Zerezghi (NEAC)
+
+He read over his post a few times to make sure it looked alright, then hit post and immediately backed out from his rig. He knew that he'd come back to messages from Jonas and True Name. He couldn't guess at what their tone would be, but he knew that he wasn't ready to deal with them.
+
+He just knew that he needed something spicy to eat and at least two glasses of wine.