update from sparkleup
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@ -21,7 +21,7 @@
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<p>“I’m sure I think I like you.”</p>
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<p>I laugh. “Yeah? Well, what can I do to cement your opinion of me? What can I do to make you sure that you like me?”</p>
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<p>“There’s a whole laundry list,” she says, sipping her brandy.</p>
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<p>“Pop one. I could use a goal for 283.”</p>
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<p>“Pop one. I could use a goal for 276.”</p>
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<p>Hanne holds up her glass appraisingly. “Well, we could work on your taste in liquor.”</p>
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<p>I snort. “What would you rather I drink?”</p>
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<p>“Scotch.”</p>
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@ -40,7 +40,7 @@
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<p>“Six. Me, Lily, Cress, Rush, Sedge, and Tule.”</p>
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<p>“That’s another thing you could do: be a little less weird.”</p>
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<p>I chuckle, kiss atop her head. “Uh huh. Love you too.”</p>
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<p>“But I was saying they have to be miserable. They chill out in their house and spends their days remembering yours, you and your cocladists, and just living vicariously through you all.”</p>
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<p>“But I was saying they have to be miserable. They chill out in their house and spend their days remembering yours, you and your cocladists, and just living vicariously through you all.”</p>
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<p>“That’s not all they do. They sing. They have Vos and Pierre, right? They spend time with their partners. They go to Vos’s plays. They have friends over. They sing a <em>lot</em>. They cook–”</p>
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<p>“Are they as bad a cook as you?”</p>
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<p>“Oh, worse, according to Tule’s girlfriend. Truly terrible.”</p>
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@ -48,8 +48,8 @@
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<p>“They have a full and fulfilling life, is what I’m saying. They’re happy, it’s just that their happiness doesn’t include communication with their up-tree instances.”</p>
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<p>“Why not?”</p>
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<p>I yawn, slouch down further on the couch along with Hanne. “They very specifically want us to live our own lives. They don’t want us to just be other versions of them. They can make all of those they want for their little tasks. They specifically want us to be something other than what they are so that they can experience that on their own terms.”</p>
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<p>“Don’t see how that’s any different,” she mumbles. Sleep threatened, even with some time left before midnight. “You all merging down like that is just doing the same thing in reverse, You’re making them a version of you all, even if you’re not just a version of them.”</p>
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<p>I turn that thought over in my head, hold it at arm length, let the light of the fire shine through the fog of champagne and brandy onto it to admire just how strangely it was shaped. “Well, huh.”</p>
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<p>“Don’t see how that’s any different,” she mumbles. Sleep threatens, even with some time left before midnight. “You all merging down like that is just doing the same thing in reverse, You’re making them a version of you all, even if you’re not just a version of them.”</p>
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<p>I turn that thought over in my head, hold it at arms length, let the light of the fire shine through the fog of champagne and brandy onto it to admire just how strangely it was shaped. “Well, huh.”</p>
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<p>“See? You’re so weird.”</p>
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<p>“I guess we are,” I say, smiling and nudging Hanne upright once more. “No dozing off, now. Not yet.”</p>
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<p>She grumbles and rubs at her face. “Sorry if that came off as rude. I guess it’s just outside my understanding.”</p>
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@ -61,7 +61,7 @@
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<p>I start to nod, then stiffen 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>
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<p>Hanne laughs and shakes her head, standing from the couch to go get herself a glass of water.</p>
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<p>I close 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 can. I sit and spend 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 need to do is actually remember. Clearly, Tule had already forked and merged back down into Sedge, as their combined memories pile 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>
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<p>There’ll be time for full perusal and remembering later. It’s rapidly approaching midnight, and I need to get the memories sorted into my own, interleaved and zippered together into as cohesive a whole as I can 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 can fork, myself, letting that new copy of me live out the next year with Hanne, with all their joys and sorrows, while the original instance quits and lets all those memories — those of Rush, Sedge, Tule, and myself — fall to Marsh to process, savor, and treasure for themself.</p>
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<p>There’ll be time for full perusal and remembering later. It’s rapidly approaching midnight, and I need to get the memories sorted into my own, interleaved and zippered together into as cohesive a whole as best I can 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 can fork, myself, letting that new copy of me live out the next year with Hanne, with all their joys and sorrows, while the original instance quits and lets all those memories — those of Rush, Sedge, Tule, and myself — fall to Marsh to process, savor, and treasure for themself.</p>
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<p>I hear Hanne return, hear her climb back onto the couch before me, feel her press a cold glass of water into my hand.</p>
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<p>Five minutes left.</p>
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<p>Three.</p>
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@ -82,9 +82,9 @@
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<p>Leaning forward, she gives me a light kiss. “You know I like it when you ramble. Just don’t lose track of the time.”</p>
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<p>23:45.</p>
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<p>I start to nod, will away the drunkenness, then stiffen as I feel 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>
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<p>Hanne laughed and shook her head, standing from the couch to go get herself a glass of water.</p>
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<p>Hanne laughs and shakes her head, standing from the couch to go get herself a glass of water.</p>
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<p>I close 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 can. I sit and spend 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 need to do is actually remember. Clearly, Tule had already forked and merged back down into Sedge, as their combined memories pile 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>
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<p>There would be time for full perusal and remembering later. It was rapidly approaching midnight, and he needed to get the memories sorted into his own, interleaved and zippered together into as cohesive a whole as he 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, he could fork and then quit, himself, letting that new copy of himself live out the next year with Hanne, with all their joys and sorrows, while the original instance quit and let all those memories — those of Rush, Sedge, Tule, and himself — fall to Marsh to process, savor, and treasure for themself.</p>
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<p>There would be time for full perusal and remembering later. It was rapidly approaching midnight, and I need to get the memories sorted into his own, interleaved and zippered together into as cohesive a whole as I can 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 can fork and quit, myself, letting that new copy of himself live out the next year with Hanne, with all their joys and sorrows, while the original instance quit and let all those memories — those of Rush, Sedge, Tule, and himself — fall to Marsh to process, savor, and treasure for themself.</p>
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<p>I hear Hanne return, hear her climb back onto the couch before me, feel her press a cold glass of water into my hand.</p>
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<p>Five minutes left.</p>
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<p>Two.</p>
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@ -101,7 +101,7 @@
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<p>Rather than the sudden nothingness that should followed, I feel the System balk. Resist. I feel an elastic sensation that I’ve never felt before. There’s a barrier between me and the ability to quit. I feel it, test it, probe and explore. It’s undeniably present, and though I sense that I could probably press through it if I desire, it’s as though Lagrange desperately does not want me to quit. It doesn’t want the Reed of now to leave the System.</p>
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<p>“I can’t.”</p>
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<p>“You can’t?” Hanne tilts her head, then leans forward to take one of my hands in her own. “I mean, it’s okay if you don’t want to. I don’t think Marsh will mind if you’re a few minutes late. Hell, you can even send them a message saying you don’t want to this year. I think they’ll–”</p>
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<p>“No, Hanne,” I say, carefully slipping my hand free so that he could stand. I need to pace. I nod to my new fork, who quits. I decline the merge. “I mean I can’t. I’m not able to. It’s impossible. Or possible, but– wait, hold on.”</p>
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<p>“No, Hanne,” I say, carefully slipping my hand free so that I can stand. I need to pace. I nod to my new fork, who quits. I decline the merge. “I mean I can’t. I’m not able to. It’s impossible. Or possible, but– wait, hold on.”</p>
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<p>It’s been more than a decade since I’ve done so, but if ever there was a time, this was it. There are very few reasons that the System would try to stop an instance for quitting and one of them…well, no– It’s been more than a decade since I’d broken the communication embargo, but I send Marsh a gentle ping.</p>
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<p>Or <em>try</em> to, at least.</p>
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<p>All the ping is is a gentle nudge against the recipient’s sensorium, a sense that someone is looking for them, is seeking them out, is just checking if they were free, if they’re even there. From the sender’s side, it feels like a gentle touch, a brush of some more metaphorical finger against the symbolic shoulder of the recipient, a reassurance that they are indeed there.</p>
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@ -114,30 +114,30 @@
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<p>The response is immediate, words flowing into my consciousness through some sense that’s not quite hearing. <em>“What’s happening? I can’t–”</em></p>
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<p>Ping Cress, the other fork. Asks, <em>“Cress? Can you–”</em></p>
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<p><em>“What the fuck is happening?”</em> comes the panicked response.</p>
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<p><em>“My place,”</em> I send back, followed by my address. I repeat the message to Lily and, on a whim, ,u own up-tree instances, Rush, Sedge, and Tule.</p>
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<p><em>“My place,”</em> I send back, followed by my address. I repeat the message to Lily and, on a whim, my own up-tree instances, Rush, Sedge, and Tule.</p>
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<p>00:04.</p>
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<p>Cress arrives almost immediately along with Tule — they share a partner, so it makes sense they’d be together for the evening — leading Hanne to start back on the couch. “Reed,” she says, voice low. “What is–”</p>
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<p>Lily arrives next, already rushing forward to grab my shoulder. “You can’t either?” she says, voice full of panic.</p>
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<p>Before I can answer, Sedge and Rush arrive. The living room’s become quite crowded, all five of the other instances of the Marsh clade clamoring over each other to talk to me, the first long-lived fork from Marsh.</p>
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<p>“Reed!” Hanne shouts, standing and stamping her foot. Quiet settles over the room. She speaks carefully, and I can hear anger just beneath that tone. “What happened?”</p>
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<p>The rest of the clade looks to me as well, and I quail under so many gazes. “I can’t quit. I can’t merge down. I can’t reach Marsh. They–” my voice gives out and I have to take a sip of water. “They’re not on Lagrange, as far as I can tell.”</p>
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<p>“Reed!” Hanne shouts, standing and stamping her foot. She speaks carefully, and I can hear anger just beneath that tone. “What happened?”</p>
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<p>The rest of the clade looks to me as well, and I quail under so many gazes. “I can’t quit. I can’t merge down. I can’t reach Marsh. They–” my voice gives out and I have to take a shaky sip of water. “They’re not on Lagrange, as far as I can tell.”</p>
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<p>00:07.</p>
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<!----->
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<p>Silence falls thick across the room. The clade — Marsh’s clade — stares, wide-eyed. Their expressions range from unsure to terrified. I cna’t even begin to imagine what expression shows on my face.</p>
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<p>“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 he felt. “Did they quit? They couldn’t have, right? You just pinged them earlier today.”</p>
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<p>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.</p>
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<p>“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.”</p>
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<p>I nod.</p>
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<p>“And they said nothing about quitting?”</p>
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<p>“Nothing.”</p>
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<p>Hanne glances around the room, singling out Marsh’s other two immediate up-tree instances, Cress and Lily. Both shake their heads.</p>
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<p>“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–”</p>
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<p>“Vos!” I shout. “Shit, sorry Lily.”</p>
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<p>It takes a minute for Vos to respond to my ping. <em>“Reed? It’s been a bit. What’s up?”</em></p>
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<p>It takes a moment for Vos to respond to my ping. <em>“Reed? It’s been a bit. What’s up?”</em></p>
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<p><em>“Is Marsh there?”</em> I send back.</p>
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<p><em>“I don’t know. I figured they were in the study waiting on you. It’s been a bit and I just made us drinks, but they’re not in there now. Is something wrong?”</em></p>
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<p><em>“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?”</em></p>
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<p><em>“Can you ping them?”</em></p>
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<p>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.</p>
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<p><em>“What’s happening?”</em> Vos sends. There’s an edge of caution to her voice, the sound of a thin barrier keeping worry at bay.</p>
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<p><em>“What’s happening?”</em> Vos sends. There’s an edge of caution to her voice, the sound of a thin barrier keeping anxiety at bay.</p>
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<p><em>“Pierre?”</em></p>
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<p><em>“One second.”</em> Another pause, and then, quickly, <em>“Wait, can we just come over? What’s your address?”</em></p>
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<p>I message over the address, and a few seconds later, Fenne Vos and Pierre LaFontaine arrive holding hands, leading to another yelp from Hanne. </p>
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<p>“Have you been able to ping them?”</p>
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<p>Both Vos and Pierre shake their heads.</p>
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<p>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.</p>
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<p>“Stop!” Hanne says, then laughs nervously at the silence that follows. She gestures absentmindedly with a hand, pressing the bounds of the sim outward to expand the room. It had started getting actively crowded. “You’re doing it again, Reed.”</p>
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<p>“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.”</p>
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<p>“What?” I tamp down indignation. “Sorry, Hanne, there’s a lot going on.”</p>
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<p>“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?”</p>
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<p>At this, both Vos and Pierre take a half-step back, looking startled.</p>
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<p>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.</p>
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<p>“Hey, uh,” Sedge says into the uncomfortable silence that falls once more. “Has anyone checked the time?”</p>
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<p>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.</p>
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<p>Systime 284+41 00:17.</p>
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<p>Systime 277+41 00:17.</p>
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<p>“Wait, what–”</p>
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<p>“284? But–”</p>
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<p>“It says 2408, too!”</p>
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<p>“277? But–”</p>
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<p>“It says 2401, too!”</p>
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<p>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.</p>
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<p>“Okay, one at a time,” I say, having to speak up to drown out further exclamations. “I’m seeing 284+41. Everyone else seeing the same thing?”</p>
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<p>“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?”</p>
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<p>Nods around.</p>
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<p>“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?”</p>
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<p>Silence.</p>
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<p>Tule pipes up, saying, “Nothing on the perisystem about anything like this happening before, but holy shit are the feeds going off.”</p>
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<p>“Really?” I ask, then laugh. “Sorry, stupid question. Of course they are.”</p>
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<p>“And?” Rush says, impatient. “What are they saying?”</p>
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<p>“It’s pretty much this conversation repeated a million times over. I think a lot of people do the same sort of thing we do. A lot of talking about the jump in time, about trying to quit and…”</p>
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<p>“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…”</p>
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<p>Vos frowns. “And what?”</p>
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<p>“Well, I mean,” Tule stammers. “Same thing, I guess. Nothing.”</p>
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<p>Dry Grass tilts her head, then nods. “Another fork is keeping a tally. Missing instances are now numbering in the thousands.”</p>
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<p>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.</p>
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<p><em>“Do you two need anything?”</em> I send to Vos. <em>“Or just space and quiet?”</em></p>
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<p><em>“The latter,”</em> 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.</p>
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<p>“Give them some space,” I mumble against that awkward pressure in his chest. “So, okay. What’s the whole story again? Midnight hit and suddenly it’s thirteen months–”</p>
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<p>“Give them some space,” I mumble against that awkward pressure in my chest. “So, okay. What’s the whole story again? Midnight hit and suddenly it’s thirteen months–”</p>
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<p>“Thirteen months and ten days, almost exactly,” Sedge corrects.</p>
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<p>I sigh, nod. “Right. Midnight hit and the date jumped forward and now there are thousands of–”</p>
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<p>“Tens of thousands,” Dry Grass says, then averts her gaze. “Apologies.”</p>
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<p>“Why?” Lily asks. While there’s still an edge to her voice, genuine concern covers it well.</p>
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<p>“‘Information security and hygiene’. At least, that is what they would say were I to ask. Even if the messages were to fall into the wrong hands, sys- or phys-side, they would not show anything else having happened. I am of them, however. I can read some of the words that were not written.”</p>
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<p>“But news from phys-side says the same thing,” Rush says.</p>
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<p>She shrugs, another sheepish motion, and averts her eyes. “Do you really expect that we are receiving unfiltered information from phys-side?”</p>
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<p>She shrugs, another sheepish motion, and looks away. “Do you really expect that we are receiving unfiltered information from phys-side?”</p>
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<p>I steal a glance at Lily. She looks to be spending every joule of energy on keeping her mouth shut.</p>
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<p>There had been an enormous row within the clade when first Cress, then Tule, had gotten in a relationship with a member of the Ode clade. Most of the Marshans had largely written off the stories of the Odists’ political meddling as overly fantastic, yet more myths to keep the functionally immortal entertained. Even if they had their basis in truth, they remained only stories.</p>
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<p>There had been an enormous row within the clade when first Cress, then Tule, had gotten in a relationship with a member of the Ode clade. Most of the Marshans had largely written off the stories of the Odists’ political meddling as overly fantastic schlock, yet more myths to keep the functionally immortal entertained. Even if they had their basis in truth, they remained only stories.</p>
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<p>Lily, however, had had an immediate and dramatic reaction, cutting contact with the rest of the clade — including Marsh — for more than a year. She had even refused to merge down for years until tempers had settled.</p>
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<p>Hanne speaks up. “Listen, can we maybe give this a few hours to play out? I need to sleep, and if Reed doesn’t take a break, he’s going to explode.”</p>
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<p>The others laugh. I feel a twinge of resentment. Shouldn’t they be dumping all of their energy into this? Shouldn’t they all fork several times over and throw themselves at the problem? Still, it’s true enough, and if they stood around the living room spinning their wheels any longer, tempers would continue to flare.</p>
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<p>She nods.</p>
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<p>Tule and Cress nod. “We’ll help out Dry Grass,” Cress says.</p>
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<p>“Lily?”</p>
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<p>“I’m just going to get some sleep. Sorry for yelling.”</p>
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<p>“I’m just going to get some sleep,” she says stiffly. “Sorry for yelling.”</p>
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<p>Cress shakes its head, leans over, and hugs her. “Take the time you need.”</p>
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<p>“Right. Let’s meet at a park or something in the morning. Hanne will kill me if you all pile in here again,” I say, at which Hanne nods eagerly. “And I imagine things are going to be really weird out there, so I don’t want to pile into a bar or whatever.”</p>
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<p>“Really, really weird,” Sedge mutters.</p>
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</article>
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<footer>
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<p>Page generated on 2023-05-29</p>
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<p>Page generated on 2023-05-30</p>
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@ -16,8 +16,8 @@
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<!-- Would they really be sleeping? -->
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<p>One by one, the other Marshans step away from my and Hanne’s sim until it’s just the two of us, the fire crackling, the weight of the evening hanging over, between us. We stand in silence for a few long moments before I stumble back over to the couch and fall heavily into the cushions. I bury my face in my hands and only then let the grief take me.</p>
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<p>Hanne sits beside me, gets her arm around my back. She rests her head on my shoulder, letting the wave of emotion overcome me. At first, she asks if I’m alright, then she whispers a few “I’m sure it’ll be alright”s and “it’s going to be okay”s before eventually just sitting with me in silence.</p>
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<p>“This is really fucking weird,” I say once I’m able to speak again. The sound of speech echoes strangely in my head, muffled in that post-cry mess. “I don’t even know who I’m crying for. It’s not like they were a parent, but they weren’t me, either.”</p>
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<p>Hanne sits beside me, gets her arm around my back. She rests her head on my shoulder, letting the wave of emotion overcome me. At first, she asks if I’m alright, then she whispers a few “I’m sure it’ll work out”s and “it’s going to be okay”s before eventually just sitting with me in silence.</p>
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<p>“This is really fucking weird,” I say once I’m able to speak again. The sound of speech echoes strangely in my head, muffled in that post-cry mess. “I don’t even know who I’m crying for. It’s not like they’re a parent, I came from them, but they aren’t me, either.”</p>
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<p>“A bit of both, maybe?”</p>
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<p>I shrug. “Maybe.”</p>
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<p>“Do you really think they’re gone?”</p>
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@ -25,9 +25,9 @@
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<p>Hanne nudges me gently with her shoulder. “Come on, Reed. Let’s get you to bed.”</p>
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<p>“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep. Not after all that.”</p>
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<p>“Still,” she says, leaning over to kiss my cheek. It feels too hot, too intense a sensation, but I feel calmness radiate from that spot all the same. “If nothing else, you can lay down in the dark and give your poor eyes a break. Plus, <em>I</em> need to sleep, at least.”</p>
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<p>How can I stand, knowing as I do that the clade had become unmoored? How can I think of sleep when there might be some remnant of Marsh somewhere in the wires? Some ghost of him in the machine that was the System? If this System is a dream as Dry Grass and the rest of her clade had promised the world, then oughtn’t there be some wisp of him remaining? Some flash of memory from which deeper archives could be dredged? Even a Marsh from decades back would still be a Marsh worth bringing back.</p>
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<p>How can I stand, knowing as I do that the clade had become unmoored? How can I think of sleep when there might be some remnant of Marsh somewhere in the wires? Some ghost of them in the machine that was the System? If this System is a dream, as Dry Grass and the rest of her clade had promised the world, then oughtn’t there be some wisp of emh of memory from which deeper archives could be dredged? Even a Marsh from decades back would still be a Marsh worth bringing back.</p>
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<p>I sigh, nod, and let her pull me to his feet.</p>
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<p>I sway for a moment, feeling reality shift unsteadily beneath him. Once I straighten up, I follow Hanne off to our bedroom. We’d spent the previous night, as we often did, sleeping in two separate beds — I always get too warm sleeping next to someone — but any grounding force feels welcome now, so, with a gesture, the two beds slide together, merging seamlessly into one.</p>
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<p>I sway for a moment, feeling reality shift unsteadily beneath me. Once I straighten up, I follow Hanne off to our bedroom. We’d spent the previous night, as we often did, sleeping in two separate beds — I always get too warm sleeping next to someone — but any grounding force feels welcome now, so, with a gesture, the two beds slide together, merging seamlessly into one.</p>
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<p>A hollow feeling bubbles up within me. The two beds merging into one was an image of something now well beyond the Marsh clade. I’m thankful I’ve already cried myself dry.</p>
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<p>The lights dim to near darkness and the temperature drops a few degrees as me and Hanne strip and settle beneath the covers, her arms snug around me.</p>
|
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<p>“I love you, Reed,” she mumbles against the back of my neck. “I’m sorry I got so stressed before, but I love you. You know that, right?”</p>
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@ -47,12 +47,12 @@
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<p><em>“Nothing yet,”</em> I send. <em>“I need a bit of a break from them, anyway.”</em></p>
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<p><em>“How come?”</em></p>
|
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<p><em>“We wind up in feedback loops a little too easily.”</em> I stifle a snort of laughter. Hanne mumbles something incoherent against my neck in her sleep. <em>“It drives Hanne nuts. That’s why she was yelling about me doing it again.”</em></p>
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<p><em>“Oh, trust me, Marsh winds up in–“</em> The message stops abruptly, and I find himself holding my breath, checking the time several times in a row, wary of further jumps. A few seconds later, Vos continues, voice shaky. <em>“They, uh…they</em> wound <em>up in their own feedback loops.”</em></p>
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<p>I bury my face against the pillow, take long, slow breaths, willing myself to make as little noise as possible so as not to wake Hanne. How can I lay there, knowing as I do that Marsh was gone? How can I speak to Vos, knowing that I should be doing something, not crying in bed, accepting a fate that made no sense? Is it just some hopeless part of me that had accepted Marsh’s absence? Oughtn’t I be striving even now to find some way to get him back?</p>
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<p><em>“Oh, trust me, Marsh winds up in–“</em> The message stops abruptly, and I find myself holding my breath, checking the time several times in a row, wary of further jumps. A few seconds later, Vos continues, voice shaky. <em>“They, uh…they</em> wound <em>up in their own feedback loops.”</em></p>
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<p>I bury my face against the pillow, take long, slow breaths, willing myself to make as little noise as possible so as not to wake Hanne. How can I lay there, knowing as I do that Marsh was gone? How can I speak to Vos, knowing that I should be doing something, not crying in bed, accepting a fate that made no sense? Is it just some hopeless part of me that had accepted Marsh’s absence? Oughtn’t I be striving even now to find some way to get them back?</p>
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<p>No answers, only questions.</p>
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</article>
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<p>Page generated on 2023-05-29</p>
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<p>Page generated on 2023-05-30</p>
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