Codrin Bălan#Castor — Ioan Bălan
systime 222 (2346)
(transmission delay)
Ioan,
A part of me has died. I do not know what to say.
When one forks, one’s down-tree instance should not change, right? They should just be the same, yes? They continue on as they were, and the only mark left by forking is the memory of having done so. I’m know this. Dear has assured me of this. It’s how the System works, how it must work.
But for some reason, that isn’t what happened.
Let me start over.
After all that happened, after all the decisions that had already been made, it felt like there was one more that needed to happen. I needed to figure out what I was going to do about myself with regards to Artemis. I asked surprisingly few people for advice on this. I mentioned it briefly to my partners, and Dear thought it was an okay idea, though I could tell that neither of them were totally sold on the idea.
On looking back, it’s weird how little agency we attribute to our forks at first. The biggest complaint against the idea that they had was that they didn’t want to see how much the fork I sent would miss me. █████ was the one who wound up selling Dear on the idea, oddly enough, by reminding it just how much individuation can happen. It’s been stuck in instance artistry too long, not letting itself deviate because its instances simply don’t last long enough.
That was the origin of Sorina. Sorina Bălan, third of our clade, born at sunrise. I took that idea to heart and, when I decided to fork last week, I pushed individuation as hard and as fast as I could. I had a hundred paces to do so, a hundred steps between cairns to make sure that she was herself and that I remained myself.
And yet I’m not sure I did remain myself. A part of me died, and I do not know what to say about that. I pushed individuation on her — and see, here I go, taking her agency from her! — while I did my best to stay the same, to simply walk the prairie and think only of home and of Dear and of █████ and not of Artemis and a life without them. I didn’t think of names. I didn’t think of time skew or forking. I didn’t think of anything but the pending sunrise.
I also didn’t think of forgetting, and I think that’s what got me over the weekend. Sorina and I seem to have been of one mind that we’d give it a bit of time before getting in touch with each other, but she hasn’t left my thoughts since we forked. She can’t leave my thoughts. I can’t forget her.
But, I realized, she can forget me. She can forget us.
There may come a day — and I pray that that ‘may’ is accurate, for my sake if nothing else — when she cannot remember Dear, cannot remember any of us, cannot remember why we love the ones we do. For all of the complaints about our impeccable memories, this is one instance that I struggle to see myself living without.
What do I do? How do I live with the life I’ve created for myself? How do I internalize that a part of me has died?
I’m sorry, Ioan. There’s nothing I can do about any of this, and certainly nothing you can do, however many hundreds of billions of kilometers away. I write because there is a sort of stability in you that has rusted in me. It has frozen all of my joints and so I risk cracking while you remain firmly rooted and flexible.
I’m sorry, Ioan.
Pass on my love.