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update from sparkleup

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Madison Scott-Clary 2024-04-13 18:10:04 -07:00
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writing/post-self/marsh/007.md
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@ -82,7 +82,7 @@ I laughed. "Sorry, Sedge."
"Meeting with phys-side? What for? Do they have more information for us?"
"We're hoping so. There's been a few meetings so far, but they've been dragging their heels, supposedly to let us organize this emergency council. They don't like the whole sys-side anarchy thing very much."
"We're hoping so. There's been a few meetings so far, but they've been dragging their heels, supposedly to let us organize this Emergency Council or whatever they're calling it. They don't like the whole sys-side anarchy thing very much."
I shrugged. "I'll send a fork, sure. Don't want to leave Hanne in a lurch if she drinks too much and comes home a mess."
@ -92,19 +92,19 @@ I stood up and forked, my root instance stepping back to the house while my new
The headquarters room beyond the boundaries of Marsh's study proved to be much larger than anticipated, stretching out to either side, where it was ringed with glass-walled conference rooms, many already populated with 'politicians', as Sedge had called them.
"They've got a bunch of people working on different aspects of this. Jonas, of course, and a lot of the Odists — don't tell Lily, but I'm starting to really like them — plus some folks from way back. The black guy is Yared Zerezghi, who wrote the secession amendment. The weasel is Debarre, who was on the Council of Eight. The blond woman–" She nodded over towards a huddle people matching that description. "–is Selena something-or-another. I never did catch her clade name. She seems neat, though. Well connected."
"They've got a bunch of people working on different aspects of this. Jonas, of course, and a lot of the Odists — don't tell Lily, but I'm starting to really like them — plus some folks from way back. The black guy is Yared Zerezghi, who wrote the secession amendment. The weasel is Debarre, who was on the Council of Eight. The blond woman–" She nodded over towards a huddle people matching that description. "–is Selena something-or-another. I never did catch her clade name. She seems neat, though. Ex-System Consortium. Well connected."
"So are you, seems like," I said, grinning.
"Well, sure," she hedged. "I *did* start that survey with Dry Grass, though, so I guess that gives me some sort of in with all these heavy hitters."
"Right." I hurried to catch up with her as she skirted around a surfeit of skunks. "So where's this meeting happening?"
"Right." I hurried to catch up with her as she skirted around a surfeit of cinnamon-colored skunks. "So where's this meeting happening?"
"Through here, I've been told," she said, gesturing to a set of double doors.
These opened out into a wide space, all white walls and pinewood flooring, black slabs that must have been tables scattered around the area, surrounded by chairs and low stools of various sorts.
As we hunted down our own table, dozens of those politicians started to stream in through the doors or blip into existence from other sims. The room filled quickly and efficiently. Chatter was minimal, and everyone took their seats without fuss.
As we hunted down our own table, dozens of those politicians and technicians started to stream in through the doors or blip into existence from other sims. The room filled quickly and efficiently. Chatter was minimal, and everyone took their seats without fuss.
Sure enough, as the clock ticked over to 18:00, an AVEC setup sparkled into existence with a pleasant animation, set in an open space in the center of the room. As the lights dimmed and sound picked up, we were greeted by a low murmur of voices from various phys-side techs filing into their own seats in an auditorium of some sort, projected in from the L<sub>5</sub> station. The transmission was set to be semi-translucent, a helpful affordance for us to see who was phys-side and who was sys-side.
@ -146,9 +146,9 @@ There was a rustle of noise from the AVEC stage. Low murmurs and shuffling in se
Need An Answer interrupted, and there was danger beneath the calm in her voice. "Have you lost 23 billion souls, my dear?"
There was no response for several seconds. The tension, even across the AVEC feed, was palpable. Eventually, he bowed. "Günay, you may carry on."
There was no response for several seconds. The tension, even across the AVEC feed, was palpable. Eventually, he bowed. There was a moment of fiddling with something we could not see before he said, "Günay, you may carry on."
The systech nodded slowly, looked off into space for a moment — consulting something on her HUD, I imagined — before nodding. "We only have an estimate, but yeah, our estimate is 0.977% of the total instances on Lagrange were lost or corrupted."
The systech nodded slowly, looked off into space for a moment — consulting something on her HUD, I imagined, after some NDA or another had been lifted — before sighing. "We only have an estimate, but yeah, our estimate is 0.977% of the total instances on Lagrange were lost or corrupted."
A low mutter filled the room, this time from those sys-side.