Ioan Balan — 2326

Ioan was still sitting at the table, ruminating, when May returned from her errand. Something that she saw in eir face made her frown, and when she walked, she almost slunk, as though to keep from waking em up, or as though she was bearing some unknowable guilt. When she sat on the stool that True Name had been using, she looked small, closed in on herself. Not just smaller than True Name, though she was also that, but smaller than usual.

She did not speak.

Finally, Ioan capped eir pen, set it atop eir notes, and pushed them off to the side of the table. Ey folded eir arms on the tabletop and rested eir forehead on them. “I’m tired, May.”

The skunk still did not speak. Did not even move, to the point where Ioan questioned whether she was holding her breath.

Ey lifted eir head again, saying. “I’m tired and I’m upset and I don’t know what to do.”

She nodded. “I expected you would be. I am sorry, Io–“

“What did you do?” ey said, cutting her off. “I mean, what was your role in all of this?”

May winced as though slapped. “Ioan, I–“

“May. I just need to know.”

She stayed silent, and after a minuted, ey sighed.

“We talked about this early on, about how you said that I’d get upset, and that you were worried that I’d get upset at you.”

She nodded, stayed silent.

“And I am. I’m upset and tired and…I don’t know. Sad? Numb? Something like that. I can’t promise that I won’t be upset at you, and I really don’t want this to go into either of our projects, but please, May, I need to know.”

“For the sake of completion?”

Ey nodded.

“It is nothing terribly dramatic,” she admitted. “Though I knew that you would not learn about it until after you learned about everything else. That is my worry.” There was a long pause before she asked, “Do you know what each of the stanzas did?”

“No, I don’t think so. Or, maybe I know a few, but if you can tell me about the rest?”

“Alright,” she said. “The ones I think you know are Praiseworthy, who loosely focused on propaganda and shaping individual thoughts; Qoheleth, who focused on shaping history; and True Name, who focused on political machinations. Hammered Silver was written off by those three, because she was all that was motherly in Michelle. She wanted to take care of her, and, after a while, they were too cynical to think it worthwhile.

“I Am At A Loss For Images In This End Of Days focused on observing. Initially, this was borne out of watching and critiquing performances, but quickly grew to spying.

“Oh, But To Whom Do I Speak These Words kept an eye on religions. Her stanza focused on both phys- and sys-side religions as areas of interest.

“Among Those Who Create Are Those Who Forge started out by watching creatives here on the System, perhaps unsurprisingly, but grew bored and wandered off to do their own thing.

“Time Is A Finger Pointed At Itself helped both Praiseworthy and Qoheleth as a speech writer, though she was more into theater than whatever work they gave her.

“If I Am To Bathe In Dreams acted as the grounding element for much of the clade. She became something of a therapist.

“May One Day Death Itself Not Die forked off all ten instances as soon as she could and then refused to fork again. I think she was left with much of that disconnect from reality that Michelle felt.”

“Why are you telling me this, May?” ey asked.

“Because I need you to understand that the first lines each wound up with a bit of Michelle, and from there, their forks were all riffs on that theme. You have doubtless figured that out by now. I told you early on that True Name forked me off to feel, but she did so in the most True Name way possible. She wanted to ensure that she also had a way to sway individuals, sys-side, as well as large groups.

“So she forked to create me, and then we discussed how best to accomplish that, and through the various mutation algos that go along with forking, I softened my appearance to be cuter and rounder, softened my voice, learned how to smile more earnestly, and did all the things I could think of to make myself as appealing as possible.”

Ey frowned. “That doesn’t sound like feeling.”

“That is because True Name did this on a whim, and I do not think she expected me to be anything but as manipulative as her. In order to influence someone on a truly individual level, though, you must be able to understand them. I did not tell her at first. I changed myself physically, and then as I went out into the System to learn how to manipulate individuals, I kept on forking whenever I found myself coming to a new conclusion. In short, I grew a sense of empathy.”

“Why didn’t you tell her?”

May smiled cautiously. “Did she seem like the kind of person who puts stock in feelings?”

Ey shook eir head.

“Right. Well, it is not so difficult to imagine that, after a while, she began to notice that I kept getting much closer to those that I was supposed to watch than was strictly required. I was supposed to watch them, influence them, shift their attention. I was supposed to use the System to my full advantage to get them to do what I wanted.”

“You were supposed to get them to grow dandelions.”

The skunk brightened and nodded. “Yes. The System is more subtle than we give it credit for. Our subconscious can affect it as much as our conscious minds, so I would hint and murmur and insinuate and make myself a part of their dreams, and then use that to get them to do things of their own volition.”

“That’s pretty damn manipulative,” ey mumbled.

What brightness had reached her face faded again. “It was. I was a hell of a tool before I grew my own conscience.”

“So, you started to feel bad?”

“I started to feel, Ioan. True Name does not do much of that. I started to feel, and when I started to feel love, affection, friendship…well, those felt good, so I’d fork again to cement those more firmly in place.”

“But you still manipulated those around you.”

“I…yes,” she said. Her ears were all but laid back flat against her skull.

“For how long?”

“I am technically still supposed to be doing that, but!” She held up a paw. “I only lasted about two or three years as a tool for manipulation before I began to feel too much. I became too hard for her to control directly. She could not ask me, ‘Go influence that man’ or whatever. The only way she knew to control me was to guide me toward who she wanted influenced and hope that I did the right thing almost on accident, because all I would do is become best friends or lovers or trusted confidants. I could not in good conscience take an idea from True Name and make the person do what she wanted, because I actually had a conscience. It was almost a trauma response, in the end. I fawned because that was how I felt safest.”

Ioan felt the tension in eir shoulders, neck, and back. Felt the way ey was holding emself tightly wound. “And me? Did she guide you towards me?”

The skunk looked as though if she could curl into a ball, shrink, and disappear, she would.

“May?”

“Yes, she did.”

Ioan let out a breath, realizing after the fact that it had come out as a laugh. “That’s really fucked up, May.”

“Ioan, let me tell you a story.” She was crying silently now, looking down at her paws. “In the beginning, the gods created the world. They built it up, atom by atom, molecule by molecule. They used eyes like lasers to guide one after another into ordered formations, ranks upon ranks, and then set them to marching. The gods built the world and then they smiled at it from up above. They looked down on their creation and saw all of the possibilities of perfection that it held, of the unending life and endless bliss.”

Her words were choked, but she continued, “The gods built the world because they desired to shape it to their will. They wanted to bend the world into something that they could direct this way and that, because after all, could they not do that with their atoms and molecules? A world that is orderly! Imagine the wonders they could create! The wills they could work!

“So the gods set the world to spinning and watched and waited as it began to blossom and bloom. When the time was ripe, they reached down their hands to touch the world, and found that they had become the wind and the tides and the rain and the snow and the sunlight and the moonlight. They reached down to touch the world and shape it to their will, and found that they become impersonal forces in the face of absolute independence. The world they created could not be controlled, because there is no such thing as a world that can be controlled. They reached down, became impersonal forces, and the lives within the world bundled their coats up tighter at the north wind or took their hats off when the sun shone bright, but never could the change a single mind.”

A long silence followed May’s myth, broken only by her sniffling and shaky breaths.

Ey thought about these gods, these impersonal forces trying to work their wills on the world. Were they True Name and Jonas? Were they the System engineers? Did it even matter?

“I believe you,” ey said, reaching a hand out across the table, palm up.

“You believe me what?” she mumbled.

“I believe that you grew a sense of empathy and a conscience. I believe you couldn’t manipulate the wings off a fly unless you thought it would live a happier, more fulfilling life if it didn’t have them.”

The skunk laughed through the tears, a choked and earnest sound. She finally reached out and set one of her paws in Ioan’s hand. “Even then, I would feel bad.”

“I believe that, too,” ey said, brushing a thumb over her fingers. “You just have the