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.
Ioan Bălan — The Bălan clade
systime 222 (2346) (transmission delay)
Codrin and Codrin,
I hope that you and yours are well. All of this news from Castor quickly got overwhelming and I know I’ve not been as good as I would like at keeping up with things that are not just “holy shit, aliens”. I have a few updates.
The first is that, surprising no one, I’ve been contracted to write a play about our visitors by A Finger Pointing. I’ve been reading all of your updates, #Castor, and certainly the knowledge is worth quite a bit on its own, but can I ask for some information about the moods throughout? If I’m to pull together a story out of this, that will be more useful in the context of a play than the facts. Besides, it’s not like we can do much in the way of fact checking from where we are. I’ve attached what I have, though obviously it’ll be a month out of date by the time you get it (and two months by the time you answer).
Second, I’m sorry to say that End Waking has requested that Debarre give him some space for a bit again. I know that you two never got the chance to meet him and that I gush about him every time he comes up, but he really is delightful, and I wish him the best in his solitude, however long it might last.
May and I visited Debarre for dinner after we got the news and spent a bit of time talking about it. I was pleased to learn that these separations don’t come with any ire, just a simple request and understanding. He seemed really calm, even a bit relieved about it. Apparently the weeks leading up to being asked to leave are a little awkward, as he put it.
I think part of why this came when it did is due to the convergence. I know that Debarre is still far more plugged into the news of the System than I, and given that End Waking has essentially opted out, I can see that being an uncomfortable divide.
Finally and perhaps most impactful for me, I had the chance to meet with True Name during convergence. Even after a month of thinking about the meeting, I’m still unsure what to make of it.
I, like you two, had the chance to interview her a few times during the process of pulling together the History, so I had been expecting the same frightful competence that I saw twenty-odd years ago.
I did not.
It’s difficult for me to describe the ways in which she’s changed. She’s overworked, perhaps? She looks like she’s stretched herself too thin to keep up as well as she used to. I know that she mentioned that the tone of our interviews was carefully constructed in order to shape the narrative, and that the emotions she put on display where deliberately chosen for the role she was playing, but…well, I wasn’t expecting to make her cry.
And yet from what you two have said, other than her experience on Artemis, she’s still going strong on both the LVs.
I don’t really know what to do with this information, honestly. I keep thinking about things I could have said or questions I could have asked, but it always gets muddled up in my head given her similarities to May. I’ve spent so long with May that seeing someone as similar to her as True Name is in distress, yet be unable to comfort in the same ways I might has me rudderless.
Either way, I’ve set up another meeting with her now that convergence news has settled into a more steady stream, so I guess we’ll see where that leads.
May has taken these two meetings surprisingly well, I’ll note. She mentioned that, given our position as Bălans leaves us liable to come into contact with her again in the future, so we might as well ensure that it’s not so jarring as it was that first night we found out about Artemis.
I know she’s been working on her feelings about this with Sarah, so I’m happy to see a little less fury in her than I used to. She got really quiet during that conversation before admitting that the reason she wound up feeling as she did about True Name was due to the History itself. She hadn’t known about True Name’s subtle nudging of Michelle/Sasha with regards to both Launch and her death until we put it to paper.
We seem to be inextricably entangled with the Ode clade, and while I love May dearly and I know that you two love Dear, it sometimes feels a little like being trapped.
Anyway, all that to say that True Name’s having a rough time here, and I’m hoping that she’s getting what she needs out of talking with Sarah. Never thought I’d say such, but I’m worried about her.
Codrin Bălan#Castor Individual-Eyes-Only Material
I’m also worried about you. Your last letter led to a few conversations between May and I about individuation, but also about the topic of separation in more general terms. I understand that you two did your best to diverge as quickly as possible, and I can’t even imagine that.
I know that when you became Codrin, that was not something that I’d foreseen, and despite the surface similarities, this feels different. It’s a new thing for us, I think. You two were borne out of the changes that the Odists wrought on us, but Sorina was borne out of changes coming from within.
I know that I risk our messages passing each other through the great big nothing between us, so perhaps there’s more already on the way, but perhaps you can tell me more about her, or about the both of you?
To be clear, this isn’t about the play. I spent some time talking with Sarah about it and she had some suggestions for what my role in this matter is. Doubtless you’ve been speaking with her about your role, and perhaps you and Sorina are still talking things through, but Sarah’s suggestion was that I can at least be someone you trust with the whole of your experience with her, not just the negative aspects. She mentioned that a healthy path through grieving involves reinforcing the good memories, and while you may not have had time to form many of those, doubtless you still have impressions and thoughts surrounding both the experience of individuation and her as a person. What do you like best about her? What are your hopes for her? What wishes do you have?
Lean on those around you to whatever level you’re comfortable with, and know that I’m here, firmly rooted as you say. I’ll offer all that I can.
Be safe above all.
The next section is just to inform #Pollux that you sent a fork to Artemis without details.
End Codrin Bălan#Castor Individual-Eyes-Only Material
Codrin Bălan#Pollux Individual-Eyes-Only Material
The previous section for #Castor surrounds eir decision to send a fork to Artemis. Without sharing too much, it’s led to a lot of inner strife for em. I’m worried, but that’s nothing new. Either way, just wanted to provide some context. I’ll leave any further information up to em to pass on.
End Codrin Bălan#Pollux Individual-Eyes-Only Material
I hope things are going well despite all these dramatic goings on. May and I send our love to you and yours.
Ioan
Codrin Bălan#Castor — The Bălan clade
systime 222 (2346) (transmission delays)
Ioan, Codrin#Pollux, and Sorina,
I’ve been nudged by both Dear and, of all people, True Name to write you with an update of life in Convergence. I’ve attached a longer report, but here’s a quick, far more subjective summary.
We copied the entirety of our sim into Convergence wholesale. Dear transferred ownership of the one on Castor back to Serene during a little party we had. It said that it was to apologize for wrecking the last one, and that it would try to be more careful with the new one, but that she’d better take care of the Castor version for now. It made a whole big show out of it, because of course it did, but it was a fun party all the same.
Nothing about our sim feels any different, which, on writing it, makes perfect sense. It’s a duplicate down to the subatomic level (if that even means anything on the System). However, the world that’s available to us when we try to move between sims is far, far from the same. There are much fewer places, yes, but it’s all much more organized. They’ve decided to set up up a central hub with five spokes, each ‘belonging’ to a race. The hub and spokes — essentially long pedestrian malls — act as the primary public areas for everyone. It’s not that there aren’t public sims outside of this, but these are always at the top of everyone’s mind when they think about going out.
Along each spoke are all sorts of shops, restaurants, entertainment venues, and doors leading to larger public spaces. It started out as a non-euclidean type thing, where you would see a walkway between two shops leading out into a park that would clearly take up most of the spoke itself until too many of us complained and the walkways were opaqued with a sort of curtain that depicted what was beyond. In addition, every doorway that would lead to a violation like this has been set up to give a slight tingle when transiting, just as an added signal. I haven’t found it too much of a problem, but some voices were quite loud.
The actual population of Convergence isn’t all that large. There are a few million humans, about a million each of secondrace (who call themselves Dehoudevav, which is just ‘second people’) and thirdrace (whose name I’ll never be able to pronounce, much less write, but who the Artemisians, predictably enough, call Dehoudeves, or ‘third people’). Nearly every member of fourthrace (Dehoudever, natch) elected to join after learning about how our System is based around forking rather than skew, which totals only a million or so.
Firstrace, then, is the outlier. Only about a thousand of them have joined us. None have provided anything more than a vague answer as to why, too. Our best guess is that only one from each ‘clade’ (or whatever structure is implied by their names) joined us with the exception of Turun Ka and Turun Ko due to their role in the discussions. They sound like they like us alright, they just didn’t sound very interested in joining us beyond that scope. No one seems to be able to make heads or tails of their actions.
That said, they’ve all been incredibly polite and even kind. One of them, Anin Li has teamed up with Sarah and I as we work on knowledge share around therapeutic practices between races. As I’m also learning that for the first time, I’ve got a mountain of work ahead of me.
I say they above, but that goes beyond just the firstracers. Given the similarities in just how each race is polite, I imagine that there is at least an expectation that this is how life must exist after convergence, or, more likely, all who decided to join were briefed on how to interact during convergence. Certainly just about everyone I’ve run into speaks at least a little bit of our lingua franca, though I know that many of us are learning Nanon as well.
All the same, it feels like we’re all being very careful around each other, still feeling out our boundaries and all. I have at least gotten the chance to introduce Dear to the other emissaries (even Iska, who stuck around long enough to view one of its shows, but didn’t stay; they seemed confused and unnerved). It and Turun Ko have gotten on well, surprising no one.
The document will have a whole lot more that you’ll likely find interesting, but I just wanted to pass on some more personal impressions as well.
Clade Eyes Only
I mentioned that True Name suggested that I write to you all about this, which was honestly a little strange. Not strange in that she’s been talking with me — we see each other nearly every day and have fallen into a professional relationship — but that she pulled me aside to have a really quite earnest discussion about it.
I’ve seen enough of her with all pretense stripped away to know what earnestness looks like, and this was almost that. There’s definitely still something going on under the surface.
Her explicit reasons for wanting me to send this to you are that she says the sentiment and mood have some striking similarities to the early days of the System. “There is a sense of a new thing, here, and it is a thing that we are left to build into our own new world,” she said.
I can see what she means, too. Even though we can go back to Castor at just about any time (though we’ve been told that, starting soon, that will be very heavily rate limited until they work out a better solution to the separate reputation markets), it very much does feel like we are a new colony. We’ve found ourselves in a truly empty space along with people we’ve never met, and it’s up to us to build something that works.
Still, she, her stanza, and Jonas are hardly absent. They seem to be putting out gentle feelers for how all of this works. I don’t get the sense that they’re looking to guide it in any dramatic ways, but there’s a tension beneath the surface that I can only just pick up on. Political structures differing between Convergence and Castor put the rate-limiting at the border in a new context.
All of this is based off one conversation, though, so I’ll keep you all up to date as best I can.
End Clade Eyes Only
I miss you all. Pass on my love.
Codrin#Castor
Sorina Bălan — Ioan Bălan
systime 222 (2346) (transmission delays)
Ioan,
While I’m sure that Codrin#Castor’s already told you plenty about me, I wanted to send you a letter directly.
Something about winding up here in a place so fundamentally different from where we’ve lived before has me in mind of the past. I wasn’t quite sure why this was, at first. Obviously, I miss the prairie and life aboard Castor, and that’s all in the past, but one would think that I’d be more worried about what’s in front of me than what’s behind me. The prospect of months or years aboard this new world — never mind the core facets of existing in this world — give me plenty of time to worry about the future, though.
I suppose leaving behind so much is reason enough to think about the past.
I could spend all of that time thinking about my partners (and I’ve certainly been thinking about them plenty), but you’ve been coming up in my thoughts more than I’d expected. Something about this extra layer of individuation has you feeling even less like a down-tree instance than you did before, and far more like a good friend — especially given how much I miss you.
I miss you! Isn’t that weird to say? Perhaps. We’ve never met, have we? Ruminating on my roots has me thinking fondly on the past, though. We are stuck however many billions of kilometers apart, though, and that distance will only grow, the time between messages will only ever get longer. At least I think I better understand what Dear was talking about with regards to the difference between longing and being missed.
Ah well, perhaps I’m just lonely. Lonely and moody. It’s so strange here, and it’s been playing havoc with my emotions.
I miss you and May Then My Name, and I hope you’re both doing well. Pass on my love.
Sorina Bălan
33 et-ularaeël, 4775 Artemis Reckoning
Codrin Bălan#Castor — Ioan Bălan, Codrin Bălan#Pollux
systime 223 (2347) (transmission delays)
Ioan, Codrin,
I’m glad that you enjoyed my description of Dear’s recent performance, Ioan. Codrin, I hope your Dear manages to take some good stuff from that (I know mine sent over a whole sheaf of notes). Watching foxes of various sizes try to waltz with second- and thirdracers was funny enough, but the sole firstracer in attendance (Anin Li, who I’ve mentioned before as one of the two Artemisian psychologists I’ve been working with) trying to figure out how to waltz with a fox — even one the same size as it — was more amusing than it should have been.
I had to make sure that there was at least some pleasantness to this letter, because I’m afraid that the rest of it is going to be a bit dreary.
You’ll notice that Sorina isn’t in the recipients list. I’ve mentioned to you both previously that the process of seeing her off to Artemis was more painful than expected, that I’ve been struggling with the feelings that I have both about that act of individuation and the possibility of forgetting that Artemis grants its occupants. Now, though, you can add, “radio silence from her” to the list of things I’m having a hard time with.
It’s not even that big of an issue. Her last letter to me was a short, polite request that she be given a little space while she works out her feelings on Dear and █████. I can very much respect that, of course. That they’re my partners means that a lot of what I’d have to talk about would involve them. Not all, but asking me to just not talk about something that sometimes makes up the majority of my life would be uncomfortable for both of us.
Still, it’s been nearly a year since convergence, and other than the first two letters — the one to the clade and the note to me — I’ve not heard from her at all. Sarah has confirmed that she’s still around and doing well enough.
Sometimes, people drift apart. I know that. How many dozens (hundreds?) of people have we met in our 140-odd years that we spent time with and then slowly drifted away from?
This isn’t that, though. This is me. This was me. This is someone who shared 100% of my history up until the day she left, 100% of my memories. We ought to have so much in common, and even though there is now this large swath of things that we can’t have in common any more, shouldn’t she still like books? Shouldn’t we be able to talk about going into therapy as a career? Shouldn’t she still think about family long gone?
Dear and █████ have each discussed sending her a letter, but I’ve asked them to hold off for a little bit longer in case she needs more time. It’ll also give me a chance to sort out my thoughts a little better too. I still feel weirdly…I don’t know. Broken? Wrong? It feels wrong for me to feel this torn up over someone I spent ten minutes with.
I welcome your thoughts. Pass on my love to you and yours.
Codrin
Sorina Bălan — Ioan Bălan
systime 225 (2349)
(transmission delays)
Ioan,
I’m breaking my communications embargo to message you directly in the strictest confidence. I don’t know the details, but I’m pretty sure this will pass through Castor without pinging Codrin or my exes (or anyone, for that matter). The last thing I want is yet another tearful letter from any of them just because my name flashed across their feeds.
Well. I say ‘yet another tearful letter’, but there’s only been three — one for each of them — so I’m hardly being bombarded, but I just…I can’t, Ioan.
I need to talk to someone about this. I need to talk to someone who truly understands. I talk to Sarah quite a bit, of course, both in a therapeutic and a professional context, but there needs to be that sense of connection to the matter on a more personal level than just therapist to client. She’s a delight to work with and an amazing teacher (as are Artante and Anin Li).
In our sessions, we came up with a very specific way to deal with this decision that I’ve made. In order to ensure that I can learn to cherish who I was and who was in my life, I need to reinforce the positive memories of what I had. I need to make sure that those are stronger than the negative ones. I don’t want that final, terrible morning to weigh on me more strongly than all of the good times that we had together.
You know, it’s weird, though. I say ‘final, terrible morning’, but at the time, I don’t remember it being such. I remember being very tired. I remember waking up and slipping away from Dear and making coffee in a cone of silence. I remember walking out onto the prairie. I remember suddenly seeing Codrin beside me, walking, head down in thought, as I focused on becoming me as quickly as possible. I remember walking past that brand new failing in the land with Codrin and not even having the mental capacity to think about it. All I remember doing was forking with each step, becoming who I am by the second and trying to move as far away from the life I had without losing my sense of self.
It wasn’t terrible. It was busy. It was purpose-driven. It was constructive. I walked from that cairn to the next with Codrin beside me and then we talked for, what, five minutes? Ten? And then I kissed em on the cheek, grabbed a stone from the cairn, and left.
It’s not a terrible memory. The worst part was Codrin asking if I wanted to go back and say goodbye, but that was over in a flash as I made my decision not to.
The rest of the morning wasn’t even that bad. I stepped to Convergence and waited for True Name to show up and then walked into Customs and then I was off to Artemis.
Codrin was the first to contact me, about a month after I left. Eir message was…well, I said tearful, and I’m struggling to put it any other way. It was just text on a page, but if it had been an actual letter, mailed across the millions of kilometers between Castor and Artemis, delivered to my stoop, surely the ink would have run from a tear drop or two. I could hear eir emotion through the page, and I could feel the very same tugging in my heart that I knew ey was feeling, for are we not alike?
Bu we aren’t, Ioan. We rushed that differentiation, that individuation, didn’t we? We pushed as hard as we could for me to be a different person from em, and all we had in common was a last name and a history.
I haven’t heard since in the years since I arrived, but I worry that ey’s still heartbroken. There must be some word for that little piece of yourself that lives on in your up-tree instances, even if it’s only the memory that they were borne from you. There has to be a word for that feeling of shared identity that is incomplete enough that one is not the same.
The next two letters, the ones from my exes, came at the same time about a month ago. I wouldn’t call those nearly so heartbroken as Codrin’s, but I could tell that eir pain was affecting them as well.
I don’t want them to hurt, though! I don’t want them to hurt. I want us all to move on. I want to continue being, as I have been, happy here. I want to continue in the process of healing from trauma. I want them to continue in the process of healing from trauma. I want them to remain whole and I want to be whole myself.
Clearly, I’m not.
Here I am, crying over a letter to my root instance, worrying about letters that haven’t arrived, probably haven’t even been written, because there is still a part of me that misses what life once was. I miss my exes. I miss who I used to be.
I am happy being Sorina, and I miss being Codrin. That’s my dialectic. I can be both of those things. I’ve grown to accept that, and I’ve gotten used to the feeling of being me. I’ve gotten used to being a woman. I’ve gotten used to life among four other races. I’ve gotten used to the myriad new ways of expressing emotion here.
But with those two letters, the wound that had started to heal over was once again tugged open and I felt that old stirring of longing within me.
When we first embarked on this adventure, I think we all thought that that feeling would be the one that wore on me the most. We all worried (myself included, I suppose) that I’d miss everyone so much that I’d want to quit, so we all agreed that this would be the how it would work: I’d head off to experience life on Artemis, and if I started to miss everyone too much, I had explicit permission to quit, no need to live with that pain.
That’s not what happened, though. I got right to work with Sarah and Artante, and later Anin Li, learning all of these really amazing therapeutic techniques (such as reframing my old partners as exes, even if there was no real break-up event) that help me just as much as they help everyone else.
They still have each other back on Castor, though! They still love each other, living out on that prairie in that ridiculous house, and all their letters serve to do is to drag me back into that mindset.
The real crux — really, the real reason this is all making me panic so much — is that I’m forgetting.
Forgetting! How novel, right?
I remember what Dear smelled like, the feeling of its fur on my face. I remember the way its ears would bob when it shook its head.
And the food! God, I remember the food. If there’s one thing I miss, it’s all the wonderful food. A bunch of fifthracers here are starting to set up restaurants, and some of fourthrace’s food is pretty good, but it’s not food from home, you know?
But I can’t remember the sound of their voices. I can’t remember our everyday mundane conversations. I can’t remember what the quiet house was like, when we were all working on our own projects in our own spaces, each of us heads down over some creative problem, poking and prodding for weaknesses in whatever blocked us until we could have a breakthrough and go show the others.
More, I couldn’t remember to be upset about missing them.
I was happy, or at least on my way to being happy, and then bam! Suddenly, I remember what it’s like to miss those I love again.
Because I do still love them, but as I said, I just can’t. I love them, and I miss them, and I miss Castor and I miss Lagrange and I miss all of the Odists getting up to their horrible bullshit and all of the perfect imperfections of our systems. Text only communication! Almost two and a half centuries and they still haven’t solved that, have they?
I miss all that I love, and hell, I miss you.
I love you, Ioan. I love you in that weird, roundabout way that a distant up-tree fork does. I love you for your completeness. I love you for being me, and yet not me. I love you for being Ioan and not Codrin. I love you for the solidity that I remember of you through Codrin’s eyes. I love who you used to be. I love who you’ve become. I love who you will be.
I want nothing more than to say pass on my love, but please, Ioan, please don’t, not yet.
I’ll just say “all my love” and be done with it. I promise to write again when I’m calmer.
Sorina Bălan
13 er-ularaeäl, 4778 Artemis Reckoning
Codrin Bălan#Pollux — The Bălan clade
systime 225 (2349) (transmission delays)
█████ is gone.
They’re gone. No fight, no yelling or acrimony, they just said that they needed some time to themselves and gave us each a hug and kiss and stepped away. I would have thought it just meant for a day or so, but their entire studio is cleared out. I pinged and they requested a few days to think before we talk.
What do I do? We’ll wait as requested, but Dear’s a mess. Hell, I’m a mess. I couldn’t give it the support it needed when I needed support myself. Serene is staying with us again for a while just to help how she can.
What do I do? I’ve never gone through anything like this and everything feels so incredibly desperate, as though I’ve done something so awful that a single misstep will bring the entire world down around my ears. It’s kept me frozen in place for a few days now. I’ve gotten up to eat and Serene’s made sure that Dear and I get outside at least once a day.
What do I do, Ioan?
Codrin, have you heard anything?