True Name was early to her meeting, and that, she figured was okay. On a whim, she had picked, the same pub that she'd met Jonas in some time back, the one that reminded her of The Crown Pub from years ago, with the flat beer and the uncomfortable booths. She figured that Debarre, of all people, would appreciate this.
She ordered herself one of those beers that she loved to hate, sat down in a corner booth with a commanding view of the entrance, tail flopped over the edge, and waited.
While she waited, she thought about all of the different reasons that Debarre might have asked to meet. There was always the possibility that the weasel had figured out just how deep she and Jonas had gotten in their work, though she suspected that that wasn't the case. Debarre was smart, yes, but political adroitness was not his strong suit. That had been the root of the worry --- shared by him --- that he had been let onto the council merely by his proximity to Michelle and connection with the lost.
It could also be that he had further questions about why it was that Michelle had chosen the Ode as a clade scheme, and that perhaps he wanted to discuss why it was that all of the clade seemed so averse to mentioning the author of the poem.
And, as she hoped, he could simply just want to hang out. Spend time together like friends, like they used to.
With that in mind, she focused on composing herself into a state of friendly alertness, so that when the weasel walked into the pub and spotted her in the corner, she would be primed to guide him toward that last possibility, even if he had come expecting the first two.
She watched him step inside, look around, and immediately laugh. After picking up a cider at the bar, he made his way over to the booth she'd picked and plopped down across from her.
True Name laughed, shrugged. "What can I say? I was feeling nostalgic for terrible beer."
"Cheers to that." He lifted his glass to hers, clinked the rims, and took a long sip. "So, how've you been, skunk?"
Small talk was not a guarantee that this was simply a social visit, but given the tone of his voice, she doubted that anything too heavy was on the table.
"Pretty good, actually." She smiled. "Things are going well on the legislative front, phys-side, which is good. It makes my job easier. Who knows, may even take a vacation."
"Oh man, a vacation sounds good, though God knows what I'd do. Probably just sit on my tail all day and get fat on the greasiest food I can find."
"Feeling the workload, then?"
He shrugged. "Not particularly, no. It's just that I'm starting to wonder just how cut out for politics I really am. I haven't the faintest idea on how to get people to do things without sounding like I'm bullying them, and I'm not going to put all the work into it that you have. You and yours, I mean."
"Yeah, it is no small amount of effort," the skunk said. "But it will be worth it in the end, I think. Plus, I figure that once we secede and the launch goes off successfully, we can probably just sit back and let things run themselves. No one has managed to cause any problems that cannot be solved by them simply having the fistfight that they so desperately crave."
Debarre laughed and shook his head. "You gotten in any of those lately?"
"Thankfully not," she said, grinning toothily. "I do not expect to, though."
They drank a moment in silence, each of them peering around the pub, each thinking their thoughts.
"How are you, Debarre?" True Name finally asked. "Aside from work, I mean. I know that we have not had much of a chance to just sit and talk, recently."
The weasel doodled lazily on the tabletop with a claw. "For all my bitching, I'm doing alright, actually. That's why I wanted to meet, though. Just catch up."
"You know," he said. "I was thinking about Cicero a few days back, and how, after he hung himself, I thought that the grief would never end. Like, I thought that I had been completely redefined from 'Debarre the weasel' to 'Debarre who grieves', and that's just who I was from then on out."
"I am sorry that I snapped at you a while back," she said, reaching out to pat at the paw that had been poking absently at the grime on the tabletop. "That is a name that I would like to keep close to my heart and prefer not to say out loud. Also, given that ey was not strictly supposed to defect to the S-R Bloc, it still feels risky. The spooks *definitely* should not hear it."
"I get that," the weasel said. He had relaxed, but not all the way.
"And I think that I understand what you are getting at," she continued, turning her default smile into something wistful, something sad. "I am as at risk of letting grief define me as anyone, but I am still doing my best to memorialize rather than languish."
"That's good, at least," he said, finally smiling back to her. "I've been a bit worried about that, if I'm honest, but I trust you. The shit you've been pulling off lately with the council is honestly impressive, True Name. You and all your clade. I'm doing my best to understand you, sure, but I promise that's out of awe rather than fear."
She laughed, raising her glass to him. "Well, thank you. I am glad that Sasha was able to take a step back and get the rest that she so richly deserves, just as I am glad that she left me with my own *raison d'etre*. I *like* all of the shit that I have been pulling off. It feels good to accomplish stuff."
"Good! That's good to hear. It's sort of what I'd picked up on, too. I'm not sure that I was doubting you before, necessarily, but having watched you these past few weeks, I don't know." He grinned and finally returned the patting gesture in turn. "I get it, now. You're not Sasha, that's for sure, but you're not *not* her, and I see all of the best things I liked about her in you and the few others in the Ode clade that I've met."
They beamed at each other, all bristled whiskers and perked-up ears.
The conversation wound around for a while longer, with talk of plans and memories, likes and dislikes, gossip and news. True Name allowed herself to earnestly enjoy the afternoon, now that any concerns that she might have had about the meeting had been assuaged.
Eventually, they made their goodbyes and she left the sim, allowing herself to sober up in the process in order to make the next meeting on her agenda.
For some reason that she couldn't fathom, Life Breeds Life But Death Must Now Be Chosen had chosen to incarnate himself as a scholarly gentlemen, somewhere between respectable and nerdy. It was a good look, she thought, but what train of thoughts had led him to head down that route from Michelle evaded her.
After a pleasant greeting in the lobby of the library, they wound their way up the spiral staircases to the law section, three levels up. There was no particular reason that they needed to head there, other than the fact that it was liable to be fairly empty --- few had to read up on phys-side laws, here --- and would still be a comfortable place for them to walk and talk.
"So," Life Breeds Life said, once pleasantries were out of the way and the cone of silence had been set up. "Why did you want to meet today?"
"During discussions with Praiseworthy and Ir Jonas, I started to realize that there were some steps that I might need to take when it comes to the historical view of the clade. There is already the forceful de-emphasizing of AwDae's name, thanks to Praiseworthy. She thought it a good hook, and it has already proven its utility. None of us want it out in the open, anyway. I guess, given your interest in history and memory, you seemed like the most likely to be interested in helping continue that effort."
He grinned. "You guess correctly. I have been considering some aspects of that, as it is. Before I go off on that, however, I would like to hear your ideas."
True Name nodded, lazily brushing fingerpads over the spines of law books and case files. "Firstly, there are some aspects of the clade that I would like to remain within the clade. The Name is an obvious example, but I would also like to keep the impact that we have had within the Council minimized to a level more believable for Michelle's initially stated goal."
"To confirm," he said, looking thoughtful. "You want to ensure that it appears that each of us did a tenth of the work that she was doing previously and that our voice was only as loud as any other council-member's. Correct?"
"It will require a bit of fudging, at least for myself, as to how many instances actually exist for the clade. I believe that it would reflect poorly on us to say that we were initially ten, and then for someone to dig up that I had already forked three or four times less than a year after Michelle's decision."
"Yes, it is, come to think of it. There are enough concerns about capacity as is. It might seem as though we were already aiming to test that so early on."
"Mmhm. The second thing that I was thinking was more of a question for you."
Life Breeds Life nodded.
"How far in the future do you think we should be considering these changes?"
"Yes. There are some that we can do right away, but those steps are more in Praiseworthy's court: downplay the number of instances, minimizing our perceived role on the Council, *et cetera.* The aspects that are in my jurisdiction, however, are ones that will take years and decades to form. Histories written after the fact bear the weight of having undergone analysis, the shifting of public knowledge --- at least, what they think they know --- takes place over months and years. Time is on our side, though, as you well know."
"That is not to say that I will not start right away, of course," he said, laughing.
"Oh, I do not doubt you will." She grinned. "What were your thoughts, though? You mentioned having some changes that you would like addressed as well."
"Yes. I would like to eventually downplay the role of the Council of Eight in history to the point where those sys-side simply think of those who helped out in the early days as founders, dreamers, and idealists."
True Name stopped in the aisle, letting Life Breeds Life step ahead and turn to face her. "You would like the System to forget that there was a council?"
"It is a way to build a mythos and identity, yes. It allows us to use the words 'freedom' and 'secession' and so on in a collective sense, as though these were the decisions of all, rather than a few. It will instill a sense of patriotism, if one could call it such a thing, for being sys-side, which will in turn reduce the connections that many feel to phys-side." He smiled, tugging a book from the shelf at random and flipping through the pages. "This will not happen for this generation. Nor, likely, the next. The goal for future generations, though is to ensure that they feel that the System is a place to live rather than a place where they wound up, or a place that they uploaded to simply because it was convenient or necessary, or even a place that they uploaded to simply for the way life works here, whether it be immortality or the sheer hedonistic joy of it."
The skunk watched the pages flip beneath Life Breeds Life's fingers and thought. To downplay the council would be to minimize the work of years, of almost a decade. The other members might rankle, but she was pleasantly surprised at how comfortable an idea it was. It would gain her and Jonas much needed room to maneuver.
Eventually she nodded, saying, "That makes sense, yes. If the concept of the Council disappears into foggy memories and untrustworthy histories, then any attempts to lead again will seem out of place, too. It will give Jonas and I more latitude to continue working long term."
"Precisely." He replaced the book on the shelf. "Down the line, too, I am considering suggesting that we say that we uploaded after Secession. Say in the thirties. Not far enough to be an obvious lie, but enough distance from it to give us the space to act as we must now so that we can act as we will later."
True Name felt the smile grow on her face, earnest and excited. "Excellent. Excellent thinking. Keep me up to date as you go, though I do not expect the updates to come all that quickly."
Life Breeds Life laughed. "Of course not. If we are to think long term, we must think in terms of decades to work in centuries. If we are lucky, we must think in terms of centuries to work in millennia. We have plenty of time."
