Codrin Bălan#Castor — 2325
It took Codrin nearly a week to calm down enough to send True Name another message requesting to meet. It began with an apology.
“True Name, first of all, I’d like to apologize for becoming so heated during our last interaction,” ey said to er recording instance. “When confronted with information at such a scale, it is easy to become overwhelmed. I have since had time to read through both my notes from our meeting and the notes from both Codrin#Pollux and Ioan, and I think I understand better about what it was that you were trying to tell me. With that in mind, I’d like to meet up again to discuss some of the questions I didn’t get to previously, and to allow you to explain anything you would like. Please let me know when would work best. Thank you.”
Dear was nowhere to be found, this time. The fox had spent much of the last week alternating between requesting to be left alone and crying against eir shoulder. The story of what True Name had told em in combination from the news from Pollux had struck a deep chord with it, and when it did speak on the issue, the conversations would quickly end with “I did not know. I promise, Codrin, I did not know.”
So ey waited, ey read, and ey calmed down, and then ey scheduled eir interview.
The response came five minutes later, a simple ping of acknowledgement followed by a calm suggestion that immediately would be as good a time as any.
This time, when Codrin stepped into True Name’s apartment, ey was greeted by the skunk standing where she had the last two interviews, and this time, her expression was one of calm curiosity, rather that that initial warmth and its following coldness.”
“Mx. Bălan, it is nice to see you again.”
Ey bowed. “Of course. Again, my apologies for getting so upset last time. It’s a bit of a first for me, but that was a lot to handle all at once.”
“I understand,” the skunk said, returning the bow before gesturing em down the hall once more. “We will have a calmer discussion this time, I believe.”
They sat down on either side of the desk once more, and Codrin noted that there was now a single notepad.
“Now, what would you like to ask me? I suspect you will feel more comfortable if you led.”
Ey nodded. “Alright. Let’s start with Launch this time. It sounds like you were involved with that as well. Can you tell me about that?”
“Of course. Is there any particular area you would like me to begin? Launch is a very broad topic.”
“Well, Ne Jonas told Codrin#Pollux that we — that is, the Bălan clade and the liberal elements of the clade — were guided toward beginning this project. Is that true?”
If the phrase ‘liberal elements’ or its implication that True Name must be one of the more conservatives had any effect on the skunk, she didn’t show it. Instead, she simply nodded. “Yes. A project such as this was deemed important in that it would add the spice needed to keep System life on its toes, much as Ne Jonas mentioned. Does that make sense?”
“I suppose. When did the nudges come?”
True name sighed and rested on her forearms on the desk. “To answer that question requires answering a different question. We began by canvasing various art institutes, actually. I do not know why we simply did not track Dear or May Then My Name or any of the Hammered Silver stanza, as that would probably have shortened our search a good deal. All the same, we came across an exhibition at the Simien Fang School of Art and Design on history and its context in the world of the System by one Ioan Bălan. Do you remember that?”
Codrin lifted eir pen and blinked up to the ceiling, dredging up the memories of eir own gallery exhibition, so many years ago.
Too many years, ago, ey realized. “But that was in 2298.”
True Name nodded. “It was, yes.”
“But the launch project was proposed in 2306, wasn’t it?”
“It was, yes,” the skunk repeated. “Publicly, at least. The project began as a cooperation between the Jonas clade and elements of the Ode clade in 2290.”
“But you said that Michelle told you–“
“To “Do something big. Do something worthy of us”, yes. There is nowhere in there that mentions Launch, is there?”
“I suppose, not,” ey said.
“But perhaps we ought to talk about Michelle, as well. I also said in that interview that I no longer considered myself Michelle Hadje, having diverged too far from her to be the same person. That is why we had no real compunctions about influencing her as well. That began many years back, of course, but when your root instance makes a suggestion to you, you are quite likely to follow it, are you not? That provides quite a useful tool when interfacing with all elements of the clade, so we decided to take advantage of that early on.”
“You…influenced Michelle to steer the Clade?”
True Name nodded, smiling. “It is what we — the clade, yes, but my stanza in particular — are good at, yes, so we nudged her to suggest what she did to the first lines, all vague pronouncements, which helped us guide everyone toward the project.”
“And did you nudge her to quit?”
The skunk did not speak. A non-answer that spoke volumes.
Codrin spent a minute tamping down eir temper. Ey had, after all, promised to remain calm. When ey felt like ey could speak in a level tone of voice, ey asked, “So you began the project of the launch long before it was really an open discussion. What was involved in that?”
“There were three aspects involved. Phys-side political, sys-side political, and technological. Sys-side was, as always, the easiest. Hardly anything to be done. Phys-side, we had to pull quite a few strings. Technologically, it simply involved the right organizations funded, the right people hired at those organizations — as our dear Douglas was — the right scientists put in charge of the right projects. Do you need further details on that? I can speak at length, but want to respect your time and energy, if you have additional questions.”
“To confirm, you influenced Michelle Hadje to ensure the clade worked with the launch project, influenced politics phys-side to ensure that support would be there, and made sure Douglas was part of the team?”
“We made sure that the team was the team it needed to be. Douglas was a bonus. He was impressionable at a young age, so we steered him toward being an Ansible tech, ensured he made it to the station, and were happy to see how good a fit he was for the role of launch director.” True Name smiled. “I have talked with him a few times, though he did not know who I was when I did so. He is very nice, and very happy in his position. He is proud of how far he has gotten. Do not confuse influence with numbing mind control. It is important that the people we work with do things of their own, happy volition, even if they were originally our ideas.”
Codrin nodded. “Well, if he’s happy, then I suppose that’s a good thing.”
True Name beamed. “Of course.”
“And Michelle quitting? Ioan told me that May Then My Name put it, “She could not do but what she did”.”
“If that is how she felt, then I suppose there is little that I can do to change it, given that she is gone. I apologize that May Then My Name feels upset about it, but again, there is little that I can do to change that.”
Ey sighed, nodded, and wrote down her answer. “And how have you felt now that you’ve pulled all this off?”
True Name looked genuinely thoughtful. “I hesitate to say ‘proud’, but I am pleased that it went off as smoothly as it did. There were a few bumps on the road, but nothing difficult to overcome. We — the Odists you have called conservative — continue to work as we will. Jonas, bless his black heart, continues to work as he will. We stay in contact and keep divergence to a minimum until we are out of harm’s way, and then we ensure that we will keep our own projects safe. Castor, Pollux, and the L5 System. It is all going as close to plan as we could have expected.”
“So you’re…happy?”
“Pleased,” she repeated, laughing. “I will have time to be happy when I am dead. Until then I will continue to be pleased and continue to work.”
Codrin re-capped eir pen and folded eir hands on top of eir notebook.
“Does that mean we are done with the interview, Mx Bălan?” True Name asked, smiling.
“I’m out of energy, as you put it.” Ey sighed. “Unless you have anything else to share, maybe we can put off any further questions until next time. I’m sorry it was so short.”
True name smiled and stood, brushing her paws down over her blouse to straighten some imagined crease. “Then I must thank you. It has been surprisingly fulfilling to be able to talk through all of this. It is, as your partner states, irreversibility. We cannot un-diverge from Pollux or the System. You can surely appreciate that.”
“I’ll have to tell it that when I get back. It’ll be excited to hear its idea out in the wild.”
The skunk walked with em to the door and grinned. “It will be fucking pissed, Codrin Bălan, and we both know that.”
When ey returned home and quit to merge with the Codrin that had remained behind, ey set down eir notes on eir desk, walked into the house proper, into the bedroom, and slipped, fully-clothed, beneath the sheets. The interview had not lasted more than half an hour, and yet ey felt drained.
Ey must have dozed off at some point, as ey was woken by Dear crawling into the bed behind em, one of the fox’s skinny arms slinking around eir chest, and then a cold nose pressed against the back of eir neck.
“Afternoon,” ey mumbled.
“Evening, actually. I wanted to let you sleep, but dinner will be up shortly.”
Codrin nodded. “Thanks. Stressful day.”
“It is difficult, is it not?” Dear murmured against eir neck. “I apologize that this was the way that you had to learn the truth. I apologize that I was not able to tell you what I did know, and I apologize that I did not know the rest. I apologize for many things, my dear. I cannot apologize for what the other elements of the clade did, but I am sorry all the same.”
“You don’t have to apologize for her. For them. What did you call them before?”
“Batty,” the fox giggled. “They are all batty.”
“Very, very batty,” Codrin mumbled, and there was a pleasant silence between the two.
There was a loud clatter and a shouted curse from the kitchen, followed quickly by Dear forking off an instance to go help its partner, leaving the original fox and Codrin to sit up in bed.
“You know,” ey said. “True Name said that you’d get fucking pissed if I told you this, but I’m going to anyway, because I can’t leave well enough alone. She said that the divergence between the two LVs and the System was irreversible.”
“Oh, did she?” Dear said, laughing. “What a fraud.”
“That’s not fucking pissed. I was promised fucking pissed.”
Dear nipped at eir shoulder and grinned toothily at em. “I am no good at ‘fucking pissed’, but that will have to do.”
“Ow!” Ey pushed at the fox and grinned. “It’ll have to do. I’m sorry I came home and crashed. Thanks for coming to wake me, Dear.”
“It is my pleasure, of course.” It blinked as, apparently, its forked instance quit and merged. “Dinner is ready, by the way.”
“Alright. I’ll probably feel better after food, too.”
“Do you really feel bad, Codrin?”
“Kind of,” ey said. “It was just…a lot. I feel jerked around. It’s depressing.”
Dear nodded and crawled out of the bed, reaching out a paw to help em up. “It is not a great feeling, no. The results are not so bad, though, are they? We are on a hunk of metal and carbon and silicon and whatever the fuck the LVs are made of hurtling through space at some unimaginable speed. There are two of us living two completely separate lives, and Ioan and May Then My name are back at the station being adorable nerds together or whatever it is they do.”
Codrin lauged.
“The means were unsavory, to put it lightly–“
“Extremely lightly.”
“Well, yes. The means were unsavory to an extreme, but the ends are not so bad, are they, my dear?”
“No.” Codrin finally allowed emself to be pulled to eir feet, smoothing out eir rumpled clothing. “No, I suppose not.”