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Madison Scott-Clary
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<h1 id="codrin-balan-2346">Codrin Balan — 2346</h1>
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<div class="codehilite"><pre><span></span><code><span class="err">Convergence T-22 days, 1 hour, 48 minutes</span>
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</code></pre></div>
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<p>Codrin found emself in possession of a blissful day of peace after that sudden pile-on of news. Ey acknowledged a request from True Name to act as amanuensis with a faintness of heart that ey hoped the skunk did not notice, worked on a letter to Ioan, and then went back to spending the rest of eir day napping, catching up on a writing project ey had been poking at, shoving Dear around for fun, and watching the fox rehearse its next performance with their partner. This one was to be a ballroom dance where everyone invited would dance with instances of Dear, which would begin disappearing one by one while the rest grew steadily more anxious, as though worrying that they would be next.</p>
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<p>It was all very Dear, and Codrin enjoyed the idea immensely.</p>
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<p>It was comforting, in a way, to sit on the couch and watch eir partners dance, stumble, laugh, start dancing again, all while this big project loomed outside. It was there, ey knew. It was hovering outside like a storm rolling inexorably over the prairie, ready to lash the sides of the house with bands of rain and rattle the glass with peals of thunder.</p>
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@ -30,10 +33,10 @@
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<p>After yawning, Dear’s partner asked, “Think you’ll be alright working beside her while you resent her?”</p>
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<p>“If it was just me, no,” ey said. “If that cynicism is directed at the Artemisians and Tycho and whoever else, rather than just at me, It’ll be fine, I think.”</p>
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<p><em>“Besides,”</em> Dear said. <em>“You will still get to see great things, my dear. You may be tired, yes, but out of however many billion people on board, you will get to see great things.”</em></p>
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<p>The conversation tailed off from there, and the three slept well that night, each dreaming their dreams of cynicism or skunks or aliens or astronomers or love.</p>
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<p>The conversation trailed off from there, and the three slept well that night, each dreaming their dreams of cynicism or skunks or aliens or astronomers or love.</p>
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<p>The reprieve lasted until morning when, upon waking, Codrin discovered a note on the floor, written in the Odists’ distinct handwriting:</p>
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<blockquote>
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<p>Mx Bălan,</p>
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<p>Mx. Bălan,</p>
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<p>It has been requested that we pull together a team of five to act as emissaries with a team of similar composition from the Artemisians. They have left specific instructions for the roles that should be involved: someone in a position of leadership, a scientist, a recorder, and two representatives. We have the following:</p>
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<ul>
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<li>Leadership: myself, True Name</li>
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@ -76,13 +79,13 @@
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<p>They smirked, looked up at the ceiling for a minute or two, then nodded. “She’s getting ready, and will be over at noon or so.”</p>
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<p>Codrin had never seen a therapist either before or after uploading. Before, it had been a luxury that eir family couldn’t afford, and after, ey had been so busy — first with getting used to uploaded life, then with study, then with work — to have considered it much.</p>
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<p>Ey had, however, seen a counselor in school as mandated by the school itself. Mr. Nicolescu had been a kindly old gentleman, but one who seemed perpetually on the bring of collapsing from exhaustion. It made sense, given the size of the school, the requirement to meet with every student once a year, and the lack of any other counselors. Ey had been a good student and a quiet kid, and seeing him any context other than the required visit was often a sign that something had gone wrong.</p>
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<p>Sarah Genet immediately reminded em of Mr. Nicolescu in so many ways. The way she walked, the way she held herself, her smile, the way she listened with her whole intention on whatever someone had to say.</p>
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<p>Sarah Genet immediately reminded em of Mr. Nicolescu in so many ways. The way she walked, the way she held herself, her smile, the way she listened with her whole attention on whatever someone had to say.</p>
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<p>Ey liked her immediately, a feeling which ey’d questioned ever since composing the <em>History.</em></p>
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<p>“So, all I was told coming into this was that I was needed for a project that might interest me,” she said, once she’d been offered coffee, snacks, and a seat at the table. “If you’re going to go all mysterious on me, I’m probably already going to say yes, but make your pitch.”</p>
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<p>“Quick pitch?” Codrin grinned. “Aliens found our Dreamer Module signal and are going to upload a diplomatic party in a few weeks, and you were suggested as a good candidate for the talks.”</p>
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<p>“Quick pitch?” Codrin said. “Aliens found our Dreamer Module signal and are going to upload a diplomatic party in a few weeks, and you were suggested as a good candidate for the talks.”</p>
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<p>A few moments of quiet followed before Dear’s partner laughed. “Sorry Sarah. You see why I wanted you over here to have this conversation in person?”</p>
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<p>“You’re telling me, good Lord.” She shook her head, folded her hands on the table, and smiled. “Alright, now give me the longer pitch.”</p>
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<p>“Alright. The Dreamer Module broadcast, in short, broadcast instructions on how to build a message that would work with our Ansible, allowing anyone who found it to upload to the LVs. A few nights ago, someone picked that up and answered.”</p>
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<p>“Alright. The Dreamer Module broadcast, in short, contained instructions on how to build a message that would work with our Ansible, allowing anyone who found it to upload to the LVs. A few nights ago, someone picked that up and answered.”</p>
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<p>Ey slide the note from True Name across the table and waited for her to read.</p>
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<p>When she had finished, Sarah said, “Whew, alright. That’s a lot. So in however many hours, we should expect a team of five of them, and we’ll send a team of five in turn. Any idea what we’ll be talking about?”</p>
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<p>“No clue. Clearly science of some sort, given their request for a scientist. Probably coming to an agreement, if they’re asking for a recorder of some sort, though that’s just a guess on my part. The “We welcome you” bit sounds promising, at least.”</p>
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@ -107,7 +110,7 @@
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<p>“Alright. I’m curious to see what someone who tried to shape large swaths of recent history looks like.”</p>
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</article>
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<footer>
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<p>Page generated on 2022-01-03</p>
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<p>Page generated on 2022-01-16</p>
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<h1 id="tycho-braheartemis-2346">Tycho Brahe#Artemis — 2346</h1>
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<div class="codehilite"><pre><span></span><code><span class="err">Convergence T-22 days, 5 hours, 2 minutes</span>
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</code></pre></div>
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<p>Despite the exhaustion that had come down on him like a hammer, Tycho found it difficult to get to sleep. It weighed him down like stones on his chest, even as he lay in bed in the room that True Name led him too, and still he lay there in the dark, staring up at the ceiling with eyes that burned.</p>
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<p>He did not know how long it took him to actually fall asleep, but when next he woke, ten hours had passed, and dreams of Artemisians clung to him still. They were always just out of sight, and their conversations were just slightly below the level that he could hear them, and yet, he knew it to be them. Knew they were there, just around the corner. Knew that, above all else, he wanted to meet them.</p>
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<p>When laying in bed any longer brooked him no progress on disentangling himself from the dream, he climbed out, showered in the en suite, and, when he was dressed, opened the door to find True Name waiting across the hall, two coffees in hand.</p>
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<p>“Do you feel more well-rested, Tycho?”</p>
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<p>“I guess, yeah,” he said, accepting the offered coffee. “I hope I didn’t sleep through too much.”</p>
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<p>True Name began walking, letting him fall into step behind her. She laughed. “Of course not, my friend. Nothing much that you need to worry about has happened in the last few hours. We have been working on information control and hunting down those willing to help with the effort for setting up the Ansible system to upload to Artemis. That is what you will be working on today, you and a passel of nerds. I think that is the collective term, at least.”</p>
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<p>True Name began walking, letting him fall into step behind her. She laughed. “Of course not, my dear. Nothing much that you need to worry about has happened in the last few hours. We have been working on information control and hunting down those willing to help with the effort for setting up the Ansible system to upload to Artemis. That is what you will be working on today, you and a passel of nerds. I think that is the collective term, at least.”</p>
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<p>So out of place was the humor that it took him several silent steps and a sip of his coffee to relax from the adrenal rush of the statement. “Well, if you say so. No further communications from them?”</p>
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<p>“One, but I will not ungate it on you yet, as it is quite large. It is instructions for one of their languages. Secondrace, apparently. I will ask you to learn some of it in a few days, enough to be polite, but both Why Ask Questions and Answers Will Not Help is working on that with more forks.”</p>
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<p>“One, but I will not ungate it on you yet, as it is quite large. It is instructions for one of their languages. Secondrace, apparently. I will ask you to learn some of it, enough to be polite, but both Why Ask Questions and Answers Will Not Help is working on that with more forks.”</p>
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<p>Tycho quickstepped enough to fall in beside True Name as they made their way back to the central hub of the complex. “That feels somewhat out of place to me.”</p>
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<p>“How do you mean?”</p>
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<p>“Well, if firstrace is there in a leadership capacity, why not send that language?”</p>
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<p>The woman grinned to him, then gestured to each of the new guests in turn. “Sovanna Soun is a sys-side Ansible tech, who will be working on that part, and–“</p>
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<p>Tycho was already leaning forward to shake the hand of the other guest, a slight gentleman who looked every one of the seventy years he had been prior to uploading. “Dr. Verda, wonderful to see you again.”</p>
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<p>“You two know each other, then?”</p>
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<p>Tycho laughed, nodded. “Paolo was one of my professors, yes.”</p>
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<p>Tycho nodded. “Paolo was one of my professors, yes.”</p>
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<p>“Well, what do you know,” Answers Will Not Help said, laughing. “Right, then. If the three of you will follow me?”</p>
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<p>They made their way to a conference room where they sat around a long table, both True Name and Tycho still nursing their coffees. Answers Will Not Help pulled a wheeled whiteboard over and uncapped a marker, beginning to diagram on the board.</p>
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<p>“I will be managing the effort,” she said, writing ‘AWNH’ and circling it at the top, two lines were drawn diagonally down from that. “As mentioned, Ms. Soun will be working on the Ansible software modifications. Dr. Verda will be working on the math side required to have the Ansible track the ship as it moves. It was built to be mobile in case we did need to send or receive anyone from L<sub>5</sub> in an emergency, but I am told that it was meant to require manual intervention.”</p>
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<p>“I will be managing the effort,” she said, writing ‘AWNH’ and circling it at the top, two lines were drawn diagonally down from that. “As mentioned, Ms. Soun will be working on the Ansible software modifications. Dr. Verda will be working on the math side required to have the Ansible track the ship as it moves. It was built to be mobile in case we did need to send or receive anyone from Legrange in an emergency, but I am told that it was meant to require manual intervention.”</p>
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<p>Tycho frowned. “Two people working on all of that?”</p>
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<p>“Two clades, yes. As discussed, Ms. Soun will begin with a clade of 10 to work on the software, and Dr. Verda will begin with a clade of two. Both can expand as needed. We need to ramp this up and complete the changes required within two weeks, so it is important that we be able to move quite quickly.”</p>
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<p>“And what about me?”</p>
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<p>Answers Will Not Help laughed and wrote his name next to hears, then drew connecting lines to all three names already on the board. “You will be acting as Artemis consultant. We will deliver all messages through you and you will pass on any information required bidirectionally. Due to your relative inexperience with forking, your specialized knowledge of our visitors, and a certain bold <em>je ne sais quoi</em>, we will be keeping you at one fork for the time being.”</p>
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<p>Answers Will Not Help wrote his name next to hears, then drew connecting lines to all three names already on the board. “You will be acting as Artemis consultant. We will deliver all messages through you and you will pass on any information required bidirectionally. Due to your relative inexperience with forking, your specialized knowledge of our visitors, and a certain bold <em>je ne sais quoi</em>, we will be keeping you at one fork for the time being.”</p>
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<p>Dr. Verda laughed. “Bold? Our Joh– er, Tycho?”</p>
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<p>He felt a heat rise to his cheeks as Answers Will Not Help replied, “He is the one who said yes to the Artemisians before we had the chance to do anything about it.”</p>
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<p>Everyone looked at him.</p>
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<p>“I have?”</p>
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<p>“True Name threatened you with death, did she not?”</p>
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<p>Tycho froze. “I…what?”</p>
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<p>The skunk grinned over the rim of her coffee cup.</p>
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<p>“Smart, bold, but not very socially adept.”</p>
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<p>Sovanna laughed and patted him on the arm. “Don’t worry, Tycho. I was just giving you shit. No idea what Answers is talking about.”</p>
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<p>Answers Will Not Help capped the pen and, with startling speed, threw it at Sovanna. It struck her in the shoulder, getting a yelp from the Ansible tech and making both Tycho and Dr. Verda jump. The grin never left her face as she spoke, but her voice was frigid. “You are not permitted to call me ‘Answers’, Ms. Soun. Understood?”</p>
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<p>“Nope, that is it. Your #Tasker instance will be working on separate items.” She waved a hand again and the cone of silence dropped as the cube wall once more raised up between them. Muffled on the other side, he heard, “See you in an hour.”</p>
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<p>Page generated on 2022-01-03</p>
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<p>Page generated on 2022-01-16</p>
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