update from sparkleup

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Madison Scott-Clary 2020-04-16 12:45:07 -07:00
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<p><span class="tag">writing</span> <span class="tag">fiction</span> <span class="tag">scifi</span> <span class="tag">novel</span> <span class="tag">chapter</span> <span class="tag">post-self</span> <span class="tag">qoheleth</span></p>
<p>TODO</p>
<p>Caitlin helped Carter wheel the mirror rig into place.</p>
<p>Rather than the usual cradles and headrest, both sets of contacts came in the form of gloves and a headband. She remembered her first experiences, of laying back in a recliner with the uncomfortably itchy accessories, of the panic and sensation of falling that first time, of the world reorienting itself and the gray hands and skin of her default avatar swimming into focus. The instructor's kind voice as he helped her move her arms, her legs for the first time.</p>
<p>The mirror rig let the instructor and the student share a space, yes, but also share a body. It gave the instructor access to the panic button that would knock both instructor and student back out of the sim.</p>
<p>It was that experience of watching Sasha get lost that had kicked Carter's mind into gear. If it was a crash and an incomplete withdrawal, mightn't she use the mirror rig to help pull RJ back? A slight hope, yes, and she might not even have time, judging by the sounds of the argument outside the door, Caitlin's voice now joining the fray.</p>
<p>But she had to try.</p>
<p>She slipped the headband over RJ's head and the gloves over eir hands, and then dragged two chairs closer together so that she could lay on them. No recliner, and the interferites would make her muscles all relax, so sitting up was out of the question. It would have to do.</p>
<p>She pulled on her own set of accessories, the scratchy, inexpensive fabric familiar even after all these years.</p>
<p>She lay down and delved in.</p>
<p>Blackness. A black that hurt the eyes. A black so bright that it drew forth tears.</p>
<p>And then, a slow softening. A raising up from the impossible black to something merely pitch, and then from there through <em>Eigengrau</em> to grey.</p>
<p>This was not how it was supposed to go. The mirror rig was not connected to the 'net, it was a self-contained sim holding a simple demo room. A room with malleable ACLs that could be manipulated by student and instructor both. A room for learning.</p>
<p>This was not a room. This was not a space. This was not being.</p>
<p>Carter tried to cry out, to move, but no muscle would respond to her commands.</p>
<p>And yet, the instructor could control the student, right? It took several attempts, but she was eventually able to will a menu into existence. Thankfully the ACLs for that were tied to the contacts rather than to an account, for there, at the bottom of the menu, was a 'shared controls' option.</p>
<p>She was dizzy and the words kept blurring in and out of focus, but she was eventually able to select 'Mirror all", and with a teeth-rattling <em>pop</em>, the world came into focus.</p>
<p>Not the room, the whole world. RJ/Carter sat on a low bench at the edge of a small pond. The bench sat at the edge of a trail in the midst of a narrow ridge of dry, knee-high grass. Cottonwoods dotted the rim of the pond, which was peanut shaped with a short bridge crossing the narrowest section.</p>
<p>RJ/Carter was murmuring, was speaking aloud. "May one day death itself not die? Should we rejoice in the end of endings? What is the correct thing to hope for? I do not know, I do not know."</p>
<p>The Carter half of this shared mind struggled, screamed, beat upon the membrane that kept her from truly interacting.</p>
<p>"To pray for the end of endings is to pray for the end of memory," the murmur continued. i</p>
<p>RJ/Carter could feel the way the fabric of the tunic hung off their shared shoulders, feel the way it billowed beneath their thin coat of fur, feel the gentle sway of their shared tail behind the bench. </p>
<p>It was familiar/alien.</p>
<p>The voice was eir own/not her own.</p>
<p>The feeling of a muzzle natural/unnerving.</p>
<p>"RJ." The murmur, that stream of words arriving from nowhere, was interrupted by the two simple letters.</p>
<p>The fennec stiffened, paused. Something new/something strange. A feeling of terror/a feeling of terror.</p>
<p>"Should...should we forget," the litany continued. Their voice was clouded by tears, panic. "Should we forget the lives we lead?"</p>
<p>"RJ."</p>
<p>Panic rising/hope rising.</p>
<p>"RJ, listen to me. Should we forget the names of the dead?"</p>
<p>A struggle for autonomy/a struggle for control.</p>
<p>Carter pressed on. "RJ listen to me. My name is Dr Carter Ramirez and I should we forget the wheat, the rye, the tree?"</p>
<p>Tears welled, coursed down cheeks. The fox stood, paced anxiously, tore at grass, threw stones into the still water.</p>
<p>"My name is Dr Carter Ramirez. The only time I know my true name is when I dream."</p>
<p>Ey beat back at the words with eir own/she struggled to maintain some semblance of calm, to bring her voice low and soothing.</p>
<p>"My name is Dr Carter Ramirez and yours is RJ Brewster, or...uh, AwDae. You are at the Univ-- the only time I dream is when I need an answer-- the University Medical Center in London. You have-- Do I know god when I dream?"</p>
<p>Ey felt a veil being lifted, being torn, being tugged at/she pressed against that veil between them, searching for soft spots, for weak spots, for ways in. Their breathing came in coarse gasps.</p>
<p>"RJ, b-breathe. Keep breathing," RJ/Carter stammered. The veil began to tear. "We're connected using a mirror rig. D-do you remember learning to use your implants with one?"</p>
<p>Paws tore at grass, though no longer with panic but with anger/frustration. This was unconscionable/taking too long.</p>
<!-- there was something cool I was going to put here that both would say but it would mean different things coming from each of them. -->
<p>The veil tore. "RJ, I'm going to stop mirroring. Please don't. Please leave me RJ we don't have much time and please leave me alone RJ, Caitlin and Johansson are here."</p>
<p>And then the veil disappeared and Carter swiped from mirroring to coexisting, and sat on the ground by the weeping fox.</p>
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<p>Page generated on 2020-04-15</p>
<p>Page generated on 2020-04-16</p>
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