update from sparkleup
This commit is contained in:
parent
02e006f3c4
commit
5e29e1c21a
|
|
@ -64,7 +64,7 @@
|
|||
<p>For a fraction of a second, at least. From that point on, we began to diverge, each remembering things differently. The Reed that still sat on the couch heard Hanne in the kitchen from <em>this</em> angle, yet the one that stood beside the couch heard her from that. The one that sat on the couch felt the fire on his cheek, the one standing felt it on his back.I forked — a new instance of me without these demanding memories, one who would not have the shared memories of my up-tree cocladists — and watched him wander off to the bedroom to presumably stay out of the way while I processed.</p>
|
||||
<p>I closed my eyes to turn down one of my senses, setting the sweet-smelling glass of brandy aside to rid myself of another as best I could. I sat and spent a moment processing, savoring the memories. Rush had merged down first; ve had split off a new copy of verself, and then the original had quit. On doing so, all the memories ve’d formed over the last year fell down onto me, ready to be remembered like some forgotten word on the tip of my tongue: all I needed to do is actually remember. Clearly, Tule had already forked and merged back down into Sedge, as their combined memories piled yet more weight on me. Three sets of memories — two from my direct up-tree instances and one from a second-degree up-tree instance — rested on my mind, ready for integration.</p>
|
||||
<p>There’d be time for Marsh to do their full perusal and remembering later. It was rapidly approaching midnight, and I needed to get the memories sorted into my own, interleaved and zippered together into as cohesive a whole as best I could manage, all conflicts addressed — though with as separate as their lives had been until then, there was thankfully quite little in the way of conflicting memories — so that, shortly before midnight, I could quit and let all those memories — those of Rush, Sedge, Tule, and myself — fall to Marsh to process, savor, and treasure for themself, while that new copy of me, off making the bed or simply taking some quiet, lived out the next year with Hanne, with all their joys and sorrows. </p>
|
||||
<p>After so many years of practicing, I’d gotten quite good at this. It had become routine. Some years, I kept the memories, some not. It had been a nearly a decade since I’d bothered, and there didn’t seem to be any reason to do different this year.</p>
|
||||
<p>After so many New Years Eves, this had all become routine. Some years, I kept the memories, some not. It had been a nearly a decade since I’d bothered, and there didn’t seem to be any reason to do different this year.</p>
|
||||
<p>I heard Hanne return, heard her climb back onto the couch before me, felt her press a cold glass of water into my hand.</p>
|
||||
<p>Five minutes left.</p>
|
||||
<p>Three.</p>
|
||||
|
|
@ -85,22 +85,30 @@
|
|||
<p>“See? You’re so weird.”</p>
|
||||
<p>“I guess we are,” I said, smiling and nudging Hanne upright once more. A flash of <em>déjà vu</em> struck me squarely in the right temple, a headache amid the buzz of alcohol. “Hey now, no falling asleep on me.”</p>
|
||||
<p>“Right, sorry. Still, uh…still fifteen minutes.” She grumbled and rubbed at her face. “Sorry if that came off as rude. I guess it’s just outside my understanding.”</p>
|
||||
<p>I scooted up onto the couch, myself, sitting cross-legged to face her. “It’s okay. It’s not wrong, come to think of it, I just don’t think it’s wholly right, either, you know? It’s more a matter of intent. Our intent is to live our own lives doing as we will rather than as they would, and it’s their intent to let us do so — and by not interfering, even with communication, <em>force</em> us to do so — and yet still be able to experience that almost like a dream. They forked us off a century ago, me, Lily, and Cress, and we’ve been doing it for the last century, and it’s worked out well enough since then. They’re more than just Marsh, now. They’re Marsh and all of us. If all this–” I waved around the room, feeling the gentle spin of drunkenness follow the movement, “–is just a dream, if we’re all doing our best to dream in unison with each other, then I think intent may be all that we have, right? However may billion or trillion people have uploaded are all trying to dream the same dream together, all mixed up and poured into the same System, we have to form what meanings we may on our own.”</p>
|
||||
<p>I scooted up onto the couch, myself, sitting cross-legged to face her. “It’s okay. It’s not wrong, come to think of it, I just don’t think it’s wholly right, either, you know? It’s more a matter of intent. Our intent is to live our own lives doing as we will rather than as they would, and it’s their intent to let us do so — and by not interfering, even with communication, <em>force</em> us to do so — and yet still be able to experience that almost like a dream. They forked us off a century ago, me, Lily, and Cress, and we’ve been doing it ever since, and it’s worked out well enough since then. They’re more than just Marsh, now. They’re Marsh and all of us. If all this–” I waved around the room, feeling the gentle spin of drunkenness follow the movement, “–is just a dream, if we’re all doing our best to dream in unison with each other, then I think intent may be all that we have, right? However may billion or trillion people have uploaded are all trying to dream the same dream together, all mixed up and poured into the same System, we have to form what meanings we may on our own.”</p>
|
||||
<p>“I think we broke two trillion instances a while back. I don’t know how may uploads, but I don’t think it’s hit a trillion yet.”</p>
|
||||
<p>“Right. Sorry, guess I’m kinda rambly when I’m drunk.”</p>
|
||||
<p>Leaning forward, she gave me a light kiss. “You know I like it when you ramble. Just don’t lose track of the time.” She stood up straight again and squinted out towards nothing. “Weird. <em>Déjà vu.</em>“</p>
|
||||
<p>23:45.</p>
|
||||
<p>23:46.</p>
|
||||
<p>I started to nod, willed away the drunkenness, then stiffened as I felt first one, then another set of memories crash down onto me. “<em>Fuck.</em> One of these…days I’ll convince…them to give me some warning…sec…”</p>
|
||||
<p>Hanne laughed and shook her head, stepping away from the couch to go get herself a glass of water.</p>
|
||||
<p>With a press of will, I forked, bringing into being beside the couch a new instance of myself. Exactly the same. <em>Exactly</em>. Had such a thing any meaning to the uploaded consciousness, we would have been the same down to the atomic level, to the subatomic. All of the memories, all of the personality, all of the love and hate and past that made us <em>us</em>.</p>
|
||||
<p>For a fraction of a second, at least. From there, we began to diverge, each remembering things differently. The Reed that still sat on the couch heard Hanne rummaging in the kitchen from <em>this</em> angle, and yet the one that stood beside the couch heard her from that. The one that sat on the couch felt the fire on his cheek, the one standing felt it on his back.</p>
|
||||
<p>I closed my eyes to turn down one of my senses, taking one more sip of the sweet-smelling brandy before setting it aside to rid myself of another two as best I could. I sat and spent a moment processing, savoring the memories. Rush had merged down first; ve had split off a new copy of verself then the original had quit. On doing so, all the memories ve’d formed over the last year fell down onto me, ready to be remembered like some forgotten word on the tip of my tongue: all I needed to do was actually remember. Clearly, Tule had already forked and merged back down into Sedge, as their combined memories piled yet more weight on me. Three sets of memories — two from my direct up-tree instances and one from a second-degree up-tree instance — rested on my mind, ready for integration.</p>
|
||||
<p>There would be time for full perusal and remembering later. It was rapidly approaching midnight, and I needed to get the memories sorted into my own, interleaved and zippered together into as cohesive a whole as I could manage, all — or, at least, almost all — conflicts addressed (though with as separate as their lives had been until then, there was thankfully quite little in the way of conflicting memories), so that, shortly before midnight, I could fork and quit, myself, letting that new copy of myself live out the next year with Hanne, with all their joys and sorrows, while my original instance quit and let all those memories — those of Rush, Sedge, Tule, and myself — fall to Marsh to process, savor, and treasure for themself.</p>
|
||||
<p>After so many New Years Eves, it had all become routine. Some years, I kept the memories, some not. It had been a nearly a decade since I’d bothered, and there didn’t seem to be any reason to do different this year.</p>
|
||||
<p>I heard Hanne return, heard her climb back onto the couch before me, felt her press a cold glass of water into my hand.</p>
|
||||
<p>Five minutes left.</p>
|
||||
<p>Two.</p>
|
||||
<p>23:59, and I opened my eyes. “Well, seems like it’s been a pleasant enough year. I’ll deal with all the rest of that later.”</p>
|
||||
<p>“It continues to amaze just how good you are at that.”</p>
|
||||
<p>“What, merging that much at once?”</p>
|
||||
<p>She nodded.</p>
|
||||
<p>“It feels pretty straight forward for me,” I said. “I just…remember, and when memories or outlooks on life don’t line up, I choose mine.”</p>
|
||||
<p>She laughed. “Still, far better than I am at it.”</p>
|
||||
<p>“We’ve been at this for ages. That’s a lot of practice. But hey, happy New Year.”</p>
|
||||
<p>“Is it time, then?” she asked.</p>
|
||||
<p>I nodded, took a few long gulps of water, and, with a press of will, brought into being beside us a new instance of myself. Exactly the same. <em>Exactly</em>. Had such a thing any meaning to the uploaded consciousness, we would have been the same down to the atomic level, to the subatomic. All of the memories, all of the personality, all of the love and hate and past that made us <em>us</em>.</p>
|
||||
<p>For a fraction of a second, at least. From there, we began to diverge, each remembering things differently. The Reed that still sat on the couch sees Hanne from <em>this</em> angle, and yet the one that stood beside the couch sees her from that. The one that sat on the couch felt the fire on his cheek, the one standing felt it on his back.</p>
|
||||
<p>I nodded, took a few long gulps of water, and, </p>
|
||||
<p>“Alright. I love you, Miss Hanne Marie. I’ll think of you often.”</p>
|
||||
<p>She rolled her eyes. “No you won’t. Tell Marsh I said hi.”</p>
|
||||
<p>I laughed and, as the clock strikes midnight, willed myself to quit.</p>
|
||||
|
|
|
|||
Loading…
Reference in New Issue