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Madison Scott-Clary 2023-12-11 21:30:11 -08:00
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<title>Zk | 012</title>
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<h1>Zk | 012</h1>
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<p>The shift from the universal sorrows of Lagrange to the immediate and personal sorrow of grieving over Marsh had been evident evident every time I found myself alone, disentangled from the rest of the clade, from Hanne and Dry Grass and problems larger than myself. Now that we were all gathered here, though, all the Marshans and a few close others standing around a simple black sphere, that sudden immediacy of loss clutched at my throat and would not let me go.</p>
<p>The sphere, we&rsquo;d been told, was all that remained of Marsh. It was their core dump. It was what remained of their corrupted existence here on Lagrange.</p>
<p>On examination, more information became available. The closer I looked at it, the more I seemed to know. The data was something less than visible, something more than remembering. Staring at the sphere was a process of discovering, of learning that it was a core dump, that it was one belonging to Marsh in particular, that it had been created in the first seconds of 2400, that it was marked as unrecoverable, that its nature was one of corruption, that it was tainted with the remnants of contraproprioceptive virus. So much information flew at me that I couldn&rsquo;t tell what it all meant, not least of which because the more I learned, the more the tears clouded my vision and the black sphere became a hole in the world. </p>
<p>In our world. </p>
<p>In <em>my</em> world.</p>
<p>There was some part of me that had hoped, however foolishly, that Marsh was simply locked in some enhanced cone of silence somewhere, working on this or that, rejecting all incoming sensorium data. Dry Grass, however, assured us that this was not the case, though, that eir name had been all but wiped from the System along with all of the rest of their existence, and then offered to bring us to their core dump.</p>
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<p>Page generated on 2023-12-11</p>
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