From 9ff6030b749ef6f30453eb2602e8e3791480e46f Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Madison Scott-Clary Date: Fri, 11 Aug 2023 10:50:10 -0700 Subject: [PATCH] update from sparkleup --- writing/post-self/marsh/002.html | 114 +++++++++++++++---------------- 1 file changed, 57 insertions(+), 57 deletions(-) diff --git a/writing/post-self/marsh/002.html b/writing/post-self/marsh/002.html index 46c6b108c..49877e2e5 100644 --- a/writing/post-self/marsh/002.html +++ b/writing/post-self/marsh/002.html @@ -131,86 +131,86 @@

00:07.

-

Silence falls thick across the room. The clade — Marsh’s clade — stares, wide-eyed. Their expressions range from unsure to terrified. I can’t even begin to imagine what expression shows on my face.

-

“Okay, no, hold on,” Hanne says, shaking her head and waving her hand. She appears to have willed drunkenness away, much as I did, as her voice is clear, holding more frustration than the panic I feel. “Did they quit? They couldn’t have, right? You just pinged them earlier today.”

-

I nod.

+

Silence fell thick across the room. The clade — Marsh’s clade — stared, wide-eyed. Their expressions ranged from unsure to terrified. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what expression showed on my face.

+

“Okay, no, hold on,” Hanne said, shaking her head and waving her hand. She appeared to have willed drunkenness away, much as I had, as her voice is clear, holding more frustration than the panic I felt. “Did they quit? They couldn’t have, right? You just pinged them earlier today.”

+

I nodded.

“And they said nothing about quitting?”

“Nothing.”

-

Hanne glances around the room, singling out Marsh’s other two immediate up-tree instances, Cress and Lily. Both shake their heads.

-

“I was just talking to them about an hour ago, actually.” Lily says. “They and Vos were wrapping up the first part of the night’s celebration and they were going to–”

-

“Vos!” I shout. “Shit, sorry Lily.”

-

It takes a moment for Vos to respond to my ping. “Reed? It’s been a bit. What’s up?”

-

“Is Marsh there?” I send back.

+

Hanne glanced around the room, singling out Marsh’s other two immediate up-tree instances, Cress and Lily. Both shook their heads.

+

“I was just talking to them about an hour ago, actually.” Lily said. “They and Vos were wrapping up the first part of the night’s celebration and they were going to–”

+

“Vos!” I shouted. “Shit, sorry Lily.”

+

It took a moment for Vos to respond to my ping. “Reed? It’s been a bit. What’s up?”

+

“Is Marsh there?” I sent back.

“I don’t know. I figured they were in the study waiting on you. I just made us drinks, but they’re not in there now. Is something wrong?”

“Can you ping them?”

-

There’s a short pause, followed by a sensorium glimpse of a familiar room, that study from so long ago, every flat surface that isn’t the floor covered in stacks of unread books. Empty.

-

“What’s happening?” Vos sends. There’s an edge of caution to her voice, the sound of a thin barrier keeping anxiety at bay.

+

There was a short pause, followed by a sensorium glimpse of a familiar room, that study from so long ago, every flat surface that wasn’t the floor covered in stacks of unread books. Empty.

+

“What’s happening?” Vos sent. There was an edge of caution to her voice, the sound of a thin barrier keeping anxiety at bay.

“Pierre?”

“One second.” Another pause, and then, quickly, “Wait, can we just come over? What’s your address?”

-

I message over the address, and a few seconds later, Fenne Vos and Pierre LaFontaine arrive holding hands, leading to another yelp from Hanne.

-

“You must be Vos! Hi,” she says, preempting any of Marsh’s up-tree instances. “Do you know where Marsh is?”

-

Some small part of me looks on in admiration. Hanne had kept much of the panic that’s coursing through me and my cocladists out of her voice. I can feel a shout building within me and I know from past experiences with Vos and Pierre that that would only make things worse.

-

“We didn’t see them around,” Vos answers, that barrier between caution and worry seeming to be giving way. “Why? If you’re all here, I’m guessing something happened.”

+

I messaged over the address, and a few seconds later, Fenne Vos and Pierre LaFontaine arrived holding hands, leading to another yelp from Hanne.

+

“You must be Vos! Hi,” she said, preempting any of Marsh’s up-tree instances. “Do you know where Marsh is?”

+

Some small part of me looked on in admiration. Hanne had kept much of the panic that was coursing through me and my cocladists out of her voice. I could feel a shout building within me and I knew from past experiences with Vos and Pierre that that would only make things worse.

+

“We didn’t see them around,” Vos answered, that barrier between caution and worry seemed to be giving way. “Why? If you’re all here, I’m guessing something happened.”

“Have you been able to ping them?”

-

Both Vos and Pierre shake their heads.

-

The sight of Cress and Tule bowing their heads to whisper to each other catches my eye, and a moment later their partner, a stocky woman with curly black hair, appears between them, looking as though she’d come straight from a party, herself. I feel a muffled pang of affection for her, lingering emotions from my up-tree instance’s memories.

-

“Stop!” Hanne says, then laughs nervously at the silence that follows. She gestures absentmindedly, pressing the bounds of the sim outward to expand the room. It had started getting actively crowded. “You’re doing it again, Reed.”

-

“What?” I tamp down indignation. “Sorry, Hanne, there’s a lot going on.”

+

Both Vos and Pierre shook their heads.

+

The sight of Cress and Tule bowing their heads to whisper to each other caught my eye, and a moment later their partner, a stocky woman with curly black hair, appeared between them, looking as though she’d come straight from a party, herself. I felt a muffled pang of affection for her, lingering emotions from my up-tree instance’s memories.

+

“Stop!” Hanne said, then laughed nervously at the silence that followed. She gestured absentmindedly, pressing the bounds of the sim outward to expand the room. It had started getting actively crowded. “You’re doing it again, Reed.”

+

“What?” I tamped down indignation. “Sorry, Hanne, there’s a lot going on.”

“Right, I get that, but can you start at the beginning for those of us outside the clade? What did you mean, you don’t think they’re on Lagrange?”

-

At this, both Vos and Pierre take a half-step back, looking startled.

+

At this, both Vos and Pierre took a half-step back, looking startled.

00:11

-

I spend a moment composing myself. I stand up straighter, brushing my hands down over my shirt, and nod. “Right. I’m sorry, love. When midnight hit, I forked and tried to quit as usual. I couldn’t, though. The System wouldn’t let me.”

-

Cress and Tule’s partner, I Remember The Rattle Of Dry Grass of the Ode clade, stands up stock straight, all grogginess — or perhaps drunkenness — from the party fleeing her features.

-

“That’s only supposed to happen when quitting would mean the loss of too much memory, though. The root instance can barely quit at all in the older clades–” Dry Grass winces. I do my best to ignore it and continue. “–because the System really doesn’t like losing a life if it won’t be merged down into a down-tree instance.”

-

“So, you couldn’t quit because…” Hanne says, urging him on.

+

I spent a moment composing myself. I stood up straighter, brushing my hands down over my shirt, and nodded. “Right. I’m sorry, love. When midnight hit, I forked and tried to quit as usual. I couldn’t, though. The System wouldn’t let me.”

+

Cress and Tule’s partner, I Remember The Rattle Of Dry Grass of the Ode clade, stood up stock straight, all grogginess — or perhaps drunkenness — from the party fleeing her features.

+

“That’s only supposed to happen when quitting would mean the loss of too much memory, though. The root instance can barely quit at all in the older clades–” Dry Grass winced. I did my best to ignore it and continued. “–because the System really doesn’t like losing a life if it won’t be merged down into a down-tree instance.”

+

“So, you couldn’t quit because…” Hanne said, urging me on.

“Well, I imagine the same is true for anyone with lots of memory inside them. If there’s no one to merge down into, it just looks like…like…”

-

“Like death,” Dry Grass says darkly. “It looks like death. You could not quit because, to the System, you and all of your memories would die, and the System is not built for death. That is what it felt like, is it not? It felt like you could not possibly quit without pushing the weight of the world uphill?”

-

I frown. “Perhaps not all that, but it certainly felt like I was trying to push against something really hard. It didn’t feel like it was impossible like anything else the System would prohibit, it just felt like I was being forced away from that option.”

-

“Like death,” she mutters again. Vos begins to cry. “Marsh is not on the System, then, no.”

-

“So are they…is Marsh dead?” Pierre whispers, his own voice clouded by tears. Vos towers over him — over all of us, really — and had always seemed as though she could weather a storm better than any stone, but now, both even she looks suddenly frail, fragile in the face of the loss they were all only talking around.

-

“They are not on the System,” Dry Grass and I echo in unison.

-

“How can you be sure, though?” Hanne asks. “You can’t merge down, sure, and you can’t ping, but could they just be in some locked down sim or a privacy cone or something? Can those even block merges?”

-

Lily shakes her head. “Not that I know of, no. I don’t think anything blocks a merge.”

-

“Nothing blocks merges, correct,” Dry Grass says. “That would leave potentially much in the way of memory lingering with nowhere to go, and the System does not work that way.”

-

Slowly, all within the room begin to face her rather than me, at which I breathe a silent sigh of relief. That I was the oldest fork of Marsh’s doesn’t necessarily give me any more of the information that they all so desperately craved. Dry Grass is more than a century older than I am, however, and if anyone might have answers…

-

“How do you know, love?” Tule was asking.

+

“Like death,” Dry Grass said darkly. “It looks like death. You could not quit because, to the System, you and all of your memories would die, and the System is not built for death. That is what it felt like, is it not? It felt like you could not possibly quit without pushing the weight of the world uphill?”

+

I frowned. “Perhaps not all that, but it certainly felt like I was trying to push against something really hard. It didn’t feel like it was impossible like anything else the System would prohibit, it just felt like I was being forced away from that option.”

+

“Like death,” she muttered again. Vos begins to cry. “Marsh is not on the System, then, no.”

+

“So are they…is Marsh dead?” Pierre whispered, his own voice clouded by tears. Vos towered over him — over all of us, really — and had always seemed as though she could weather a storm better than any stone, but now, even she looked suddenly frail, fragile in the face of the loss they were all only talking around.

+

“They are not on the System,” Dry Grass and I echoed in unison.

+

“How can you be sure, though?” Hanne asked. “You can’t merge down, sure, and you can’t ping, but could they just be in some locked down sim or a privacy cone or something? Can those even block merges?”

+

Lily shook her head. “Not that I know of, no. I don’t think anything blocks a merge.”

+

“Nothing blocks merges, correct,” Dry Grass said. “That would leave potentially much in the way of memory lingering with nowhere to go, and the System does not work that way.”

+

Slowly, all within the room began to face her rather than me, at which I breathed a silent sigh of relief. That I was the oldest fork of Marsh’s didn’t necessarily give me any more of the information that they all so desperately craved. Dry Grass was more than a century older than I was, however, and if anyone might have answers…

+

“How do you know, love?” Tule asked.

“I worked as a sys-side System tech.”

-

Cress laughs. It sounds forced. “And you never thought to tell us?”

+

Cress laughed. It sounded forced. “And you never thought to tell us?”

“This was before you were born, my dear. Before Marsh’s parents were born, even. It was a long time ago, and I have since moved on.”

“Well, is there a way to find out what happened?”

-

She frowns down to her feet as she thinks. “It used to be that there were rotated audit logs for events like forking and quitting. I do not know if those are kept any longer, though, given how large they would get in a very short amount of time. Perhaps?”

-

“Well, how do we check those?” Rush says, speaking up for the first time since that initial clamor of voices.

-

Dry Grass spreads her hands helplessly. “I do not know. Again, it has been two centuries since I worked as a System tech. The technology has changed much. I would need access. I would need time to remember. Time to research.”

-

“Do we even have time?” Lily growls at her, frustration apparently winning out over panic. Cress and Tule both give her a sharp glance.

+

She frowned down to her feet as she thought. “It used to be that there were rotated audit logs for events like forking and quitting. I do not know if those are kept any longer, though, given how large they would get in a very short amount of time. Perhaps?”

+

“Well, how do we check those?” Rush said, speaking up for the first time since that initial clamor of voices.

+

Dry Grass spread her hands helplessly. “I do not know. Again, it has been two centuries since I worked as a System tech. The technology has changed much. I would need access. I would need time to remember. Time to research.”

+

“Do we even have time?” Lily growled at her, frustration apparently winning out over panic. Cress and Tule both gave her a sharp glance.

00:15

-

“I do not know. I am sorry,” Dry Grass says, bowing. “I will fork and read up as fast as I can. May I remain here?”

-

“Please,” Cress and Tule say in unison. Sedge, Rush, and I, along with Marsh’s partners, all nod. Lily does not. Hanne only frowns.

-

Dry Grass bows once more, forks, and the fork steps from the sim to, I suppose, go lose herself in the perisystem architecture, hunting down what information she can. They could only hope that she still had the permissions to find what she needed.

-

“Hey, uh,” Sedge says into the uncomfortable silence that falls once more. “Has anyone checked the time?”

-

Everyone tilts their heads almost in unison. It’s more a habit than anything, hardly a required motion, but the habit that Marsh had formed so many years ago had stuck with all of the Marshans throughout their own lives.

+

“I do not know. I am sorry,” Dry Grass said, bowing. “I will fork and read up as fast as I can. May I remain here?”

+

“Please,” Cress and Tule said in unison. Sedge, Rush, and I, along with Marsh’s partners, all nodded. Lily did not. Hanne only frowned.

+

Dry Grass bowed once more, forked, and the fork stepped from the sim to, I suppose, go lose herself in the perisystem architecture, hunting down what information she could. They could only hope that she still had the permissions to find what she needed.

+

“Hey, uh,” Sedge said into the uncomfortable silence that fell once more. “Has anyone checked the time?”

+

Everyone tilted their heads almost in unison. It was more a habit than anything, hardly a required motion, but the habit that Marsh had formed so many years ago had stuck with all of the Marshans throughout their own lives.

Systime 277+41 00:17.

“Wait, what–”

“277? But–”

“It says 2401, too!”

-

Everyone talking at once quickly grows overwhelming. I shake my head, covered my ears with my hands, then, remembering that I’m standing in the middle of a small crowd, try to mask the movement by turning it into running my fingers through my hair.

-

“Okay, one at a time,” I say, having to speak up to drown out further exclamations. “I’m seeing 277+41. Everyone else seeing the same thing?”

+

Everyone talking at once quickly grew overwhelming. I shook my head, covered my ears with my hands, then, remembering that I was standing in the middle of a small crowd, tried to mask the movement by turning it into running my fingers through my hair.

+

“Okay, one at a time,” I said, having to speak up to drown out further exclamations. “I’m seeing 277+41. Everyone else seeing the same thing?”

Nods around.

-

“Any, uh…” I swallow drily, look around, and grab the glass of water that still sat, neglected, on the table beside the couch. After a careful sip, I try again. “Any ideas as to what might have happened?”

+

“Any, uh…” I swallowed drily, looked around, and grabbed the glass of water that still sat, neglected, on the table beside the couch. After a careful sip, I tried again. “Any ideas as to what might have happened?”

Silence.

“Well, has anything like this happened before?”

-

Everyone in the room turns to look at Dry Grass, who shrugs helplessly. “Not that I can remember. The closest would be periods of downtime. It has happened a few times over the centuries. There was a few days of downtime while Lagrange was being set up during Secession, a few hours here and there.”

-

“But not, what…thirteen months?” Cress asks.

+

Everyone in the room turned to look at Dry Grass, who shrugged helplessly. “Not that I can remember. The closest would be periods of downtime. It has happened a few times over the centuries. There was a few days of downtime while Lagrange was being set up during Secession, a few hours here and there.”

+

“But not, what…thirteen months?” Cress asked.

“I have never seen that amount of time lapse, no.”

-

Tule pipes up, saying, “Nothing on the perisystem about anything like this happening before, but holy shit are the feeds going off.”

-

“Really?” I ask, then laugh. “Sorry, stupid question. Of course they are.”

-

“And?” Rush says, impatient. “What are they saying?”

+

Tule piped up, saying, “Nothing on the perisystem about anything like this happening before, but holy shit are the feeds going off.”

+

“Really?” I asked, then laughed. “Sorry, stupid question. Of course they are.”

+

“And?” Rush said, impatient. “What are they saying?”

“It’s pretty much this conversation repeated a million times over. I think a lot of people doing the same sort of thing we are. A lot of talking about the jump in time, about trying to quit and…”

-

Vos frowns. “And what?”

-

“Well, I mean,” Tule stammers. “Same thing, I guess. Nothing.”

-

Dry Grass tilts her head, then nods. “Another fork is keeping a tally. Missing instances are now numbering in the thousands.”

-

Vos takes another half-step back. “Wait, thousands?“

-

“It is proving difficult to keep up with the feeds,” she says, speaking slowly. Perhaps still receiving updates? “One of me is just reading the feeds and marking a tally every time a missing instance is mentioned.”

-

“Thousands, Jesus,” Hanne whispers. “I should check in on Jess. And probably–”

+

Vos frowned. “And what?”

+

“Well, I mean,” Tule stammered. “Same thing, I guess. Nothing.”

+

Dry Grass tilted her head, then nodded. “Another fork is keeping a tally. Missing instances are now numbering in the thousands.”

+

Vos took another half-step back. “Wait, thousands?“

+

“It is proving difficult to keep up with the feeds,” she said, speaking slowly. Perhaps still receiving updates? “One of me is just reading the feeds and marking a tally every time a missing instance is mentioned.”

+

“Thousands, Jesus,” Hanne whispered. “I should check in on Jess. And probably–”

She starts as Pierre sags briefly against Vos, then either quits or leaves the sim. “He…I mean…” Vos begins, shakes her head, and then follows suit.

“Do you two need anything?” I send to Vos. “Or just space and quiet?”

“The latter,” she replies after a few long seconds. The sensorium message is so clearly sent between sobs that I have to swallow down the same sensation rising in my throat.