Before eir scheduled interview, Ioan took a walk around that abandoned lake, this time by emself. Ey needed a moment to think, and that moment, though through no fault of hers, needed to be away from May.
Ey needed to do what ey was best at. Thinking, ruminating, disentangling the knotted strands of what eir thoughts were so that ey might begin to comprehend the truth about them.
These knots were angry ones.
Or, perhaps not angry. They were frustrating ones. They were knots that ey knew the technical reasons for existing, but was starting to nonetheless resent. They were knots that bound and limited the process with which ey learned, as frustrating as the recondite letters that Qoheleth had sent so often, so long ago. Little hints and clues and never exactly the complete answer all at once. Never an explanation that allowed for further questions. Always too little, as though ey (and, at the time, Dear) was being strung along, lured into some unknown trap.
The same thing was happening now. Ey understood the technical reasons for no one Odist answering all of the questions ey had, ey and eir clade. There were too many emotions, too much secrecy, or too much shame bound up in the answers for them to sit down and tell a story from start to finish. None of them would admit to any more than one single thing throughout each interview, instead relying on the agreed upon admonition to stop when requested or warning that, after a certain point, the Odist would lie or resent the Balan.
Ey was half tempted to push one of them past that point, but then, ey wouldn't know what bit was true or not.
And these Jonases! Ey was going to see one today, after eir walk. They seemed so slippery. It was not just that they controlled the interview, though ey did not doubt that --- the transcript from Codrin#Castor contained a new twist every time ey reread it. It was that ey knew so thoroughly that they were doing so that they did it all with a wink and a smile. That little hint that they knew who ey emself had done was so clearly calculated yet held so much plausible deniability that there really was no arguing with it.
Ey was not looking forward to eir interview with Jonas Prime today.
So, instead, ey stomped and thought and talked to emself, walking all the way to the rock halfway around the lake from the default entry point to the sim, throwing a few handfuls of stones in to the placid water one by one, and then stomping all the way back to that same point.
