zk/writing/post-self/neviim/local/tycho/003.md

# Tycho Brahe#Artemis 2346

Tycho#Artemis was unsure if what he was seeing was a flurry of chaotic activity or some tightly choreographed dance. Part of this assessment, he guessed, was due to the relatively small number of individuals for the number of instances moving around. There were at least a dozen instances of True Name that he could see, and then at least that many of a gentleman who looked to be in his well-preserved forties, a slender without being lanky, tall without being looming.

And that was it. Well over twenty instances of two individuals milling around what appeared to be a farm of cubicles, each walled with glass, the upper half of which was frosted.

Ringing this bank of cubicles were walls of frosted glass, broken at regular intervals with doors which ey supposed must be offices. Between those doors were couches, looking pleasantly soft in his exhaustion, and an array of padded stools or chairs with interrupted backs which he supposed must be perfect for those endowed with tails, given the occasional skunk or man --- Jonas, perhaps? --- relaxing in them, chatting amiably during what must be either breaks or informal meetings.

And yet, for all that activity, it was incredibly quiet. There must be dozens of cones of silence set up, spanning cube walls, covering banks of couches, even hovering over those walking the aisles.

"What is this?" he asked the skunk standing beside him.

She gestured him to a couch already containing a young woman, picking at her nails. Short, curly black hair framing a round face. "Headquarters, though that makes it sound far more formal than it really is. It is a place for Jonas and I to work together in our various instances."

He sank down into the couch beside the woman. "That sounds kind of formal to me. What are you working on that requires cubicles?"

True Name laughed, claiming a stool facing the couch where she sat, straight-backed. "The informal aspect of it is that we are working on essentially whatever we want. Co-working space, perhaps? It is a space where we can have conversations, write, think. If there are a dozen of us, there are three dozen projects."

"And the message from Artemis is one of them?"

"It is several of them, yes. It has spun off a few projects of its own. Ah! Jonas. Which are you?" she said when one of the men blipped into existence, already seated in one of the chairs.

He grinned, crossing his legs in front of him at the ankles. "Di5." He nodded toward Tycho. "Just call me Jonas, though. True Name is just being a snot."

The skunk kicked out at one of his ankles.

"Deserved that," he said, grinning. "You must be Mr. Brahe, yeah? Nice to meet you."

He nodded, said, "Just Tycho is fine."

Jonas nodded absently. Without any visible signal a cone of silence fell over the area, dimming what noise remained outside of it to the barest murmur.

"I am Why Ask Questions When The Answers Will Not Help," the woman said in a tone that seemed to sit just shy of laughter. "Answers Will Not Help will do."

"Answers, in a rush," Jonas said, at which she kicked his free ankle.

"If you call me Answers, I will beat the shit out of you," she said though that near-laugh took any sting out of the words.

"To business, then." True Name gestured towards Tycho. "Tycho, here, is the one that answered the message, as you all know, so I have encouraged him to fork and join us. Tycho#Artemis will be working here, and Tycho#Tasker will be working with--"

"Codrin?" Jonas asked, grin turning sly.

"Of course."

"Well, if you are the one to thank for kicking this whole thing off, perhaps you can enlighten us as to why?"

Tycho felt anxiety tighten within his chest. "I uh...I don't know. I guess I was the first one to read the message, and I didn't know what to do with that, so I just replied without really thinking, I guess."

"You were not the first to read the message," True Name said, smiling almost pityingly at him. "And you need not be anxious. As I have already said, we have been wargaming this possibility since we were forced to concede that aspect of the Module."

He frowned. "Well, if you read it first, why'd you let it through so that I could see it?"

"We are not the astronomers," Answers Will Not Help said, shrugging. "That is your job, is it not?"

"Don't you want to control the situation or something, though?"

True Name shook her head. "It is not our job to control."

"But the History--"

"Do you remember the motto of the Council of Eight, Tycho?"

He frowned. "To guide but not to govern, right?"

True Name nodded. "We are not controlling anything. We are guiding. Of what use would be control in a place such as this? People can do whatever they want."

"Was the History wrong then? That you didn't control Secession and Launch?"

"We guided them both," Jonas said, waving his hand. "Just as we guided the History. Even the Bălan clade knows this."

"Why, though?" Tycho asked.

"Social engineering," True Name said, then nodded toward Jonas. "We should not get too sidetracked, though. Jonas, you had more questions?"

"I did, yeah. First off, can you give me an overall breakdown of the time frame involved here?"

"Well...wait, can you tell me how long it's been since the message arrived? I haven't slept in I don't know how long."

"A little less than a day."

"Well, then we have a little less than forty days until their closest approach, at which point they'll start moving away from us again."

"And what does that approach mean for us?"

Tycho rubbed at the back of his neck, searching for the best way to explain it. "All it means is that that is the point when the transmission times between our two vehicles will be the shortest, then it'll start getting longer again."

Jonas nodded. "And that approach isn't all that close, is it?"

"Oh god no. Three light-seconds is, uh...nine hundred thousand kilometers? Something like that."

"Good, thanks for confirming. I'm going to ungate the next set of messages. Ready?"

Jonas did not actually wait for confirmation before Tycho was given access. Or, rather, access was forced upon him. Rather like a sensorium message, the text from the perisystem architecture forced itself into his mind.

> If possible, in 900 hours orient down 0.3142 reference relative to your sun, reference point source of this transmission to align courses. If possible, accelerate 0.00029c to approach matched velocity. Confirm actions taken.
>
> Instructions for matching consciousness-bearing system transfer mechanism to follow. Confirm actions taken.
>
> Prepare airlocked area with locked-down edit permissions dimensions 20m by 20m height 5m and sandbox area for rest dimensions 20m by 20m height 5m. Confirm actions taken.
>
> Prepare party of five consciousness-bearing systems containing one element of leadership, one to record in any capacity, one scientist, two of own choice. Duplicate, prepare to send one set to us, and send other set to above location. Prepare receive five of us in turn, similar roles. Expect four categories of consciousness-bearing systems. Confirm actions taken.
>
> We welcome you.
>
> Turun Ka of firstrace, leadership  
> Turun Ko of firstrace, recorder  
> Stolon of thirdrace, scientist  
> Iska of secondrace, representative  
> Artante Diria of fourthrace, representative

A long silence stretched over the group while the others waited for Tycho to digest the sudden onslaught of information.