%title Qoheleth --- 2305
:writing:novel:chapter:fiction:scifi:post-self:qoheleth:

Aha! Dear sent a sensorium message. A view of a crowd and it announcing that they would be leaving in five minutes. Surprising turnout, even. I had expected most of the clade, but here, it looks like I'll be expecting the entire clade plus a few here and there --- I can see Ioan next to Dear, there --- in just a few minutes.

A bit strange to not see Michel herself there. Not only that, but to have not heard from her, either. On consideration, I'm not too surprised that she won't be showing up --- not happy, granted, but not surprised --- but I am a bit miffed that I have yet to hear from her.

Will make a note to contact her down the line. While I suspect she may be one of the more normal ones of us left, that is not to say that she's safe from this building problem, nor that she's necessarily sane simply by virtue of being the root branch.

I'm going to shut down all the exits from this room so that there will be less incentive to wander away. Not that I have a whole lot left, mind. I'd probably better increase the size, too, in order to fit everyone comfortably. How much space does each Odist need? How much space does one two-hundred twenty year old mind, copied 100 times over, occupy?

Prefer too large over too small, perhaps. There's a joke to be made about ego here, and yet this meeting is too important for me to make it.

This is going to be fun.