Douglas Hadje — 2326
+The arrangements required for this surprise for May Then My Name quickly began to feel overly complicated to Douglas, but, as Ioan kept reminding him, she was a very complicated person. She was also very perceptive, so there was, apparently, much required to make this plan work.
+The lead-up to uploading was surprisingly easy. He supposed that much of it was that so much excitement combined with so much anxiety eventually left him feeling more numb than anything, some protective emotional reaction that kept him from simply exploding on one of his many, many walks.
+But anticlimax is simply the way of the world, and so, when the night before the one-year anniversary of the Launch arrived, hey simply signed a waiver walked to the clinic, answered a few questions, and then underwent the procedure. It was uncomfortable, disorienting, and, were he pressed to pick one, probably the worst physical experience of his life, but at that point, he was well past any point where he could turn back, and even then, he knew he wouldn’t.
+And then, there was simply a brief discontinuity, and then he was standing in a grey cube of a room, naked, dizzy, blinking at a light that seemed to come from nowhere.
+Anticlimax indeed.
+A quiet voice came from behind him, a soft tenor that contained an accent that he couldn’t place. “Good evening, Douglas. I’m facing the wall, if you’re concerned about your nudity, but I’ll talk you through fixing that.”
+He crouched down, covering himself with his hands, and turned slowly. There was a short person standing in the corner of the room, hands behind their back while they faced the wall. They were dressed in a sweater vest and a pale yellow dress shirt. Nice slacks, nice shoes, tousled hair. “Wh-who…” he croaked.
+“Can you guess?”
+Douglas swallowed a few times, working up enough saliva to un-parch his throat. “Ioan? Is that you?”
+Ey laughed, nodded. “Got it in one. Now, do you want to get dressed?”
+“Please,” he said, looking around for clothes.
+“Okay. I had to look up the script for this, so I hope it makes sense to you. Close your eyes and think about the outfit you know best. It doesn’t have to be one that you love or anything, just the one that you’re most used to. Got it?”
+He squeezed his eyes shut. “Mmhm.”
+“Now, deep breath in and think to yourself, then say to yourself, “I really wish I was wearing this now” as you breathe out.”
+“Aloud?”
+“If you’d like.”
+Douglas nodded, though he knew Ioan couldn’t see him. Holding in his mind the jumpsuit he had worn for the last twenty or more years aboard the station, the one he had to wear every single day, whether he wanted or not, he breathed in, held it in his mind, and breathed out.
+Suddenly, as if it had always been there, he felt the thin fabric beneath his hands. There were even the briefs beneath that. “Weird,” he mumbled.
+“Can I turn around now?”
+He looked down at himself, along his arms and legs, seeing that the oh-so-familiar jumpsuit was just as he remembered, then said, “Sure.”
+Ioan nodded and turned to face him, smiling broadly. Ey looked over him searchingly, then laughed. “Is that your work outfit?”
+“It’s my only outfit,” he said. “No other clothes aboard the station. Too much risk of them getting in the way.”
+“Well, fair enough,” the historian said. Douglas could see now that the sweater vest was patterned in a dusty gray argyle and that there was even an understated bow tie to bring the look together. Ey stepped forward, hand out. “Douglas Hadje, nice to meet you at last.”
+He was surprised at how relieved he felt, even laughing as he accepted the hand to shake. “Wonderful! This is really strange. After a year of talking, it still feels like we’re meeting for the first time.”
+“Didn’t you say you had a long distance partner?”
+“Well, yes, but we talked over the ‘net in sims.”
+Ioan blinked, then nodded, grinning. “Right, right. Well, how’re you feeling? I remember I was pretty disoriented for a while after uploading.”
+Douglas looked around. The walls offered little but more gray and a faint grid of darker grey, as though made of panels a meter on a side. Ioan looked…well, normal, is all he could think. Ey looked like a normal person of Eastern European stock. Eir clothes looked as detailed as could be expected phys-side, and eir hand felt as much like a normal hand as any. “It’s so…normal,” he said, finally.
+“Yeah, I guess it is. I’m nearing a century here, so I’m used to it.”
+“You still look like you’re in your twenties or thirties. I guess that’s kind of weird. Is that how you looked before uploading?”
+“More or less,” ey said. “I didn’t dress as well. And I was skinnier, too. I guess this is how I saw myself after a while, though.”
+Douglass looked em up and down. “You can gain weight, here?”
+“No, no. Just that as your image of yourself changes, when you fork, those changes have a tendency to show up.” Ey grinned wryly. “You’ll see with May. She’s far more adept than anyone I’ve met, except perhaps her cocladist, Dear, at shaping how she looks when she forks.”
+“And I can fork, too?”
+“Sure. Would you like to? That’s part of the intro script, as well.”
+“Uh, I guess so,” he said.
+“Well, alright.” Ioan tilted eir head slightly as though trying to remember the words. “This time, you’ll need to think of yourself standing beside yourself. It can be a little difficult, because you’ll also need to be thinking about the intention of forking. You need to think about there being two different versions of yourself. Then, same thing. Breathe in, then breathe out or speak that intention.”
+Douglas nodded, closing his eyes again and going through the exercise as described. He kept his eyes closed for a moment longer, then peeked to the side, letting out a shout as he saw another copy of himself, who also shouted and jumped back. “What the hell?”
+Ioan laughed, resting a hand lightly on Douglas’s — the original Douglas’s — upper arm. “It’s okay, it’s okay. You just forked. Can either of you think about the name of your new instance?”
+“Like, come up with the– wait, Douglas Hadje#a33b8ac? How did I know that?”
+“It’s just part of the whole process. You’ll get used to it. It’ll get easier, and you won’t have to do the breathing thing or close your eyes.”
+He frowned, nodded. They both did. The new instance said, “And do I just stick around forever?”
+Ioan shook eir head. “No, you can quit,” ey said, nodding to Douglas#a33b8ac, then nodded to the original Douglas. “And you’ll receive his memories.”
+“What does it feel like?”
+“Nothing, really. You’ll just suddenly have something you feel like you can almost remember, like a word that’s on the tip of your tongue, and then you can either remember it or not. Quitting doesn’t feel like anything. Ready to try?”
+“I guess,” he said.
+“Alright. You, #a33b8ac, go through the same exercise and think to yourself, “I’d like to quit.” Again, you’ll need that intention, like you’re done with your task. But Douglas,” ey cautioned. “You just watch. Don’t do the same, of course.”
+Douglas nodded and focused on keeping his eyes open. Just to be safe, he thought, I’d like to stay around.
+He watched as that other version of him hesitated, closed his eyes, breathed in, and then disappeared. After that, it was just as Ioan had said, as though there were a pressure of memories. He focused on them, and realized he could remember. He could remember shouting and jumping, remember watching Ioan and himself have conversation.
+“Very weird…” he mumbled
+“You’ll get used to it over time. You’re in it for the long haul, now.”
+They stood in silence for a while, Douglas’s mind churning while Ioan waited patiently. There was so much to take in all at once, he could easily see how one could get overwhelmed.
+“Alright,” he said. “What’s the plan from here?”
+Ioan straightened up. “Well, let’s go somewhere less dreary. I want you use that same exercise and want to be at The Field#002a0b1.”
+“These numbers are going to be difficult to remember,” he said.
+“You’ll get used to them. You’ll, uh…you’ll find that you can’t actually forget anything, here, but that’s a problem for future Douglas. Ready?”
+He nodded, deciding this time to try keeping his eyes open. As he breathed the intention, he was suddenly standing in a sprawling field. Green grass speckled with dandelions as far as he could see in every direction, all lit by a salmon-colored sunset.
+There was no transition, he was just…there, as though that’s where he’d always been.
+A memory tugged itself loose, and he quickly bent down to pluck at one of the flowers. “Ioan,” he said shakily. “Is this…I mean…”
+“Michelle’s old sim, yes. I wanted the first place you saw to be one that was important to you.” Ey paused a moment, then said, “If it’s alright, can I ask how you feel about that?”
+“Is this for your history?”
+Ey nodded. “If you consent.”
+“I suppose so.” He sat down on the grass, hardly daring to breathe in through his nose, lest he figure out just what it meant for something to smell like muffins. Tears stung his eyes, and it took a while for him to be able to breathe deep enough to speak. “I feel overwhelmed. I feel like I’m home, but also not where I should be at all, like I’m intruding on somewhere that should’ve been left pristine.”
+Ioan sat down next to him. “Are you worried about that? Would you like to go elsewhere?”
+“No, no. I like it here, I’m just overwhelmed. I’ve been…” He rubbed tears away with his sleeve. “I’ve just been thinking about this for so long…I don’t know.”
+“And do they smell like muffins?”
+Wrong-footed, he stared at the historian for a moment, then slowly lifted the yellow flower to his nose, struggling against the urge to keep that knowledge a dream rather than a reality. Then, he breathed in the sweet, vegetal scent, and began to cry in earnest.
+Ioan sat with him in kind quiet. As ey had so long ago, ey didn’t say anything, didn’t try to comfort him, didn’t touch him, just sat and remained present. It was as though he were there simply to witness those emotions and give testimony to them, and that, more than anything, made him feel complete.
+After the wave crested and then passed, he said. “Alright, so, what’s the plan?”
+“You just stay the night here. You can think up a mattress or anything else you need to be comfortable. We’ll be by tomorrow mid-morning for a picnic. I’m happy to stay, too, if you’d like, or give you space.”
+“Won’t May Then My Name miss– oh, right. You’re a fork, aren’t you?”
+Ey smiled, nodded. “Of course. Ioan#Tracker is back at home getting pestered by May.”
+“Did you two wind up hooking up, then?” he asked, grinning.
+Ioan laughed and hid a blush by looking down at the flowers. “Yes. Thank you for the nudge.”
+“Good. Why don’t you go focus on her, then, and I’ll sleep here. I’m assuming the same trick works for food and drink, right?”
+“Yes, but start with small things. If you don’t remember well enough what something tastes like, you can wind up with some really disgusting stuff.”
+After Ioan had quit and he’d had a simple sandwich and some water, Douglas sat on the low rise he’d initially appeared on, watching evening dim to twilight, then twilight to darkness. He’d never been camping, but he’d learned enough about it that he was able to come up with a sleeping bag and pillow, laying awake long into the night, looking up at a dream of stars.
+Morning came slowly, and it was the heat rather than the light that woke him. He started as the sudden anxiety that he’d missed the deadline hit, but he was still alone, there in the field.
+A wish of eggs and coffee went well enough, though neither was particularly tasty, and he was able to will the sleeping bag and dishes away easily enough. He didn’t know what time it was–
+No, wait. He did. It was systime 201+21 0921. One year after launch.
+He put aside the fact that he knew that fact, and instead went for a walk.
+He didn’t walk far, not wanting to miss the arrival of Ioan and May and not knowing how big the field actually was, but it was enough to stake out the area. It was kind of boring, really. Grass, dandelions, the occasional fat bumblebee drifting lazily among the flowers.
+Boring, but home.
+Eventually, he found the patch of tamped down grass where he’d slept the night before, sat down, and waited.
+Eleven o’clock arrived and then, a few minutes later, so did Ioan and one other.
+They were facing the other way, so he had a few moments to drink in the sight. Ioan was as he remembered, excepting a basket that was likely full of picnic goods, and May Then My Name, as he supposed, was wholly unlike anything he expected.
+She was a furry, he knew that much. There were plenty on the net, and his erstwhile girlfriend with the cat av was likely one.
+He didn’t recognize this species, though. Black, rounded ears, a spray of longer fur atop her head, simple tee-shirt and pants, and a long tail with thick fur that looked luxuriously soft. Skunk? Really? he thought, and shook his head.
+The pair were still talking, hand in…well, paw, he supposed, so he stood up and cleared his throat.
+May Then My Name reacted with a speed he’d not expected, whirling around and clutching at Ioan’s arm, ears laid flat against her head. “Who the fuck are you?” she growled. The words were perfectly intelligible, he was pleased to note, and spoke of a central corridor accent.
+Remembering Ioan’s first words, he grinned. “Can you guess?”
+She straightened up frowned, then turned to Ioan, who looked to be holding back laughter, and punched him solidly in the shoulder. “You…you piece of shit! You organized this! I know you did! I am absolutely putting sand in your shoes.”
+The skunk leapt at him and, before he could react, nearly tackled him to the ground, her arms tight around his middle. “If you are not Douglas Hadje, master of spaceflight and doctor of something boring, I will be quite embarrassed. Please tell me you are.”
+“I am, I am,” he said, laughing and returning the hug. She was short enough that the top of her head barely came up to his chin. “It’s nice to meet you at last.”
+The skunk, without letting go of the hug, forked off a copy of herself to hurl at Ioan, who was laughing openly now. This time, she did manage to tackle em to the ground, and the two wrestled around for a moment, shoving at each other, before that instance of May Then My Name quit.
+Eventually, she released her grip on him and stepped back, looked him up and down, then nodded approvingly. “Every inch a Hadje. Sort of. You have lost the round face.”
+“I have? I mean, I guess that makes sense. Michelle lived two centuries ago. I’ve seen a few pictures from the news archives, but they took a while to dig up, so I can only guess.”
+Her expression grew wicked. She forked, and this fork was completely human. Shoulder-length black hair, round of face, short, the splitting image…
+“Wait,” he stammered. “You can just look like her? I thought…I thought that’d be frowned on.”
+“Oh, it is,” the woman said. “Come on, Dr Hadje. Do keep up.”
+All of his blood was completely replaced with ice water, a hatch in the field opened beneath him, and his voice completely failed. Or, at least that’s what his mind told him was happening. When the world finally stopped spinning and he finally reconnected with his body, he found that he was sitting on the grass.
+“You’re…”
+The woman — Michelle came and sat on the grass next to him to hug an arm around his shoulders, her expression softening. “I am May Then My Name Die With Me of the Ode clade. Michelle’s clade. It has been a long time since I was actually Michelle, but I once was, yes.”
+“So…”
+“So I remember being her, yes. I was forked from her two centuries ago.” She rubbed her hand against his back. “Douglas, keep breathing. You are going to pass out if you keep that up.”
+He gulped for air, shaking. “You lied to me, then?”
+“A small untruth,” she said, voice calm and soothing. “Michelle herself did quit some time ago, but I am of her clade.”