Codrin Bălan — 2346

Tycho stayed until they could talk him down from the plateau of anxiety he had at first seemed determined to hold onto for as long as he could. They fed him tea, then leftovers, then ice water, anything they could do to help. They talked to him about how to prepare for the inevitable discussions that would be coming from the other astronomers aboard as well as from the inevitable contact that would come from the Odists or Jonases, seeking answers to why he had done the things that he’d done.

And, once he was able to talk without the volume of his voice continually rising, once he was able to smile again, they sent him on his way, to go get some sleep, even though the sun was beginning to color the eastern sides of the house in salmon and orange.

“It’s alright,” he had said, laughing tiredly. “It’s always night in the field. It’s always night outside, isn’t it?”

Which left Codrin and Dear to sit in silence for a few minutes, which, after making coffee, they moved out to the patio despite the chill of the morning.

“What do you think, my dear?” the fox asked, cradling his mug close to its chest.

“Mm? I don’t know that I’m thinking anything. I think my brain’s too full with new information packed in around sleepiness that I can’t actually process anything.”

“I would suggest drinking your coffee to wake up, but if it is the same feeling that I have had, that will simply replace the sleepiness with caffeine, and you will be no more easily able to process.”

Codrin grinned, nodded, and sipped at eir coffee. “I’m a little disappointed I didn’t fork to get up so that at least some part of me could keep sleeping and just deal with it in the morning.”

Dear laughed. “You jumped out of bed so fast I thought that we were under attack. I do not think you would have been able to get back to sleep even if you had tried.”

“Probably not, at that.”

They sat in silence, sipping their coffee, and watching the sun creep up until the horizon reluctantly let it free. When they realized that they were squinting and shading their eyes too much to actually see anything, they went back inside to claim the couch, huddling under a throw to warm themselves up while Dear’s partner puttered sleepily around the kitchen.

This led, of course, to second cups of coffee and warm sweet rolls, and a long hour of Codrin and the fox catching their partner up to date.

“Well,” they said, frowning. “How do you feel?”

“That is a very Codrin question.”

“Yeah, I guess it is. I feel…” Ey paused, frowning down to eir coffee. “I feel overwhelmed. I guess that’s not a complete emotion, though.”

“You want help teasing it apart?”

Codrin slouched down into the couch further, resting the coffee mug on eir stomach. Tiredness clung to em in a thin, sticky film. “I guess. I mean, I think a lot of it is due to tiredness.”

“Seconded,” Dear mumbled. “I am surprised you slept through that, my love.”

“I’m one of the lucky ones who can sleep through anything,” its partner said, grinning. “But Codrin dear, first, how do you feel about being woken up so early?”

“I don’t think that really entered into my mind. That’s how I met Dear, after all. A jolt of adrenaline and then a sensorium message.”

“I do hope that mine was not so panicked. From what you said, Tycho was a bit shouty.”

Ey laughed. “He was, at that. I hope we sent him home a little calmer. But I suppose that made me anxious. Given that I was still fighting my way out of a dream, it felt rather like waking up into a nightmare, rather than out of one.”

“Alright,” they said. “And how do you feel about meeting him?”

“That’s a little tougher. Equally anxious, I guess. Frustrated as well, given how poorly he reacted to Dear. I think he’s very much a tasker and hasn’t experienced individuation before.”

Both Dear and its partner nodded. “I am not Michelle, and I am certainly not True Name, which is who I imagine he has experience with.”

“I suppose, yeah. So it was frustrating hearing that his first reaction was — or that anybody’s first reaction to one of my partners was one of, I don’t know, distrust? Disgust?”

Dear’s ears flinched back, but it nodded all the same. Codrin suspected it had had more than its fill of dealing with the rest of the Odists by now.

“So,” the fox’s partner said. “Anxious, frustrated, maybe a bit defensive?”

Ey nodded.

“And what about the topic of the conversation? How did that make you feel?”

“I think that’s where I’m struggling the most. I’ve worked on so many projects through the years, and this has the potential of being far and away the biggest of them all.”

“Have you accepted it as a project, my dear?” Dear said, grinning slightly.

Codrin knit eir brows, staring down at eir coffee, then taking a sip to gain some time to mull that over in eir mind. “I think I have, though I don’t know what shape that’ll take yet.”

“So, how do you feel about that?”

“If we consider the scope of the History as ten times that of Qoheleth, and if we give this one a cautious estimate of ten times that of the History–“

“Ten times?” Dear’s partner frowned. “A hundred times the size of Qoheleth?”

“Size maybe isn’t the best descriptor. Intensity, maybe?” Ey shrugged. “Working on the Qoheleth project never had me screaming into the void or shouting at the sky. The History was longer, but while I can see this one being perhaps shorter, the intensity is going through the roof. I’m not sure how much of that is just being exhausted, though.”

“That is about the topic of work, though. How do you feel about the topic? Aliens sending us copies of Douglas? Us sending aliens copies of…well, whoever we decide?”

“Frightened? Excited? Anxious? It feels too big to think about, in a way.”

“Agreed,” Dear and it’s partner said at the same time, then laughed.

“But also, I guess to tie those two together, I think my first reaction — the very first thing I thought as soon as I connected Tycho’s mood with the topic at hand — was “God damnit, not again”.”

Dear frowned. “Do you feel obligated to take on the project, rather than simply wanting to?”

Codrin shrugged. “I don’t know what else to say other than that. Obligated, then worried about scope, as though I’d already accepted the burden, such as it were.”

“Do you need a vacation, my dear?”

“Good lord, no,” ey said, laughing. “I don’t go as nuts as you, fox, but sitting around idly is decidedly uncomfortable. It’s not quite an “I hate my job” feeling, either. It’s just more of a “Why is it always me? Why do I always wind up at the center of these enormous happenings?” type feeling.”

As though on cue, both Codrin and Dear’s partner looked over at the fox, who burst into giggles. Ey felt so loopy from exhaustion that ey was soon joining Dear in the fit.

“I will accept a portion of that responsibility,” it said when it could speak again. “But the rest falls on my cocladists. I may be one of them, but I am no metonym.”

“I’ll accept that,” Codrin said.

“We’re not wrong, though, you know. Even if True Name and her stanza nudged you towards Dear, you wound up here. You wound up so influenced by the project that you almost resented Ioan when you needed to merge back for the project. I know there were a few tense discussions between you two when it came time to decide who would write the history.”

Ey waggled a hand. “Tense is maybe too strong a word. We were both excited, and it came down to whether it was me because my memories weren’t tainted by what ey’d experienced in the interim, or whether those memories would help add to the, uh…damn, what’d you call it, Dear?”

“Umwelt? One’s worldview combined with one’s experience of the world? I know that I have overloaded the term somewhat, and I am not sorry.”

“That’s the one. If Ioan’s combined knowledge of what I experienced via my memories as well as eir own experiences during the project would provide a better worldview as a canvas for the project. We decided that I’d write and ey’d consult.”

“I left you with a tainted soul,” Dear said, still sounding loopy.

“So dramatic,” ey said, rolling eir eyes. “But you changed me enough that I became a Codrin rather than a Ioan, while Ioan remained one.”

“Then My Then My Name tainted em in turn.”

“I miss them,” Dear’s partner said. “I can’t imagine seeing them together would be anything but adorable.”

“Saccharine, even.”

“Don’t be a jerk, fox.”

“I am not! I am simply stating the fact that my teeth might rot from just how adorable that must be.”

“Do you think True Name is pissed?” Codrin asked.

“That May Then My Name settled down with someone? Refused to fork for her? Perhaps. It is her little rebellion.” it said thoughtfully. “Much of the liberal side of the clade distanced themselves from the conservatives when the History came out. The definition of ‘Odist’ is quite diluted now, I think. I do not believe that True Name lost much in the way of tools such as it were, as I think she wrote many of us off, or simply as safe places to store other tools, as she did with you, my dear. She has — she and Jonas have — likely replaced them with yet more finely tuned versions of themselves.”

“That’s a rather horrifying way of looking at it. It sounds so sterile.”

It shrugged. “I am not so far removed from them that I do not feel some empathy for them. True Name is still a fully realized person. She is not a truly sterile being. She does still have emotions, they simply come from a place that we cannot reach.”

Codrin finished eir coffee and set the mug on the table, sitting up straighter and rubbing at eir face. “I’ll grant you that, though it’s still going to take some work to internalize.”

“There is no rush, my dear.”

“Isn’t there?” Dear’s partner asked. “Can you imagine True Name not getting involved in this? I’d honestly be surprised if she wasn’t already stringing Tycho up by his toes for what he did. If Codrin’s to wind up working with her again, maybe ey does need that empathy.”

The fox only frowned.

“Anyway,” Codrin said. “I probably ought to send them a message. Dear, you’re welcome to chime in as well, but I also want to share my thoughts on this with Ioan. How long’s the transmission time, these days?”

“I think about seven, eight days? Somewhere around there. Tycho would know, but I don’t think asking him right now is a great idea.”

Codrin nodded. “Well, nothing for it. I’ll write to Ioan and May Then My name, Then get ready for the shitshow that’s doubtless coming down on us.”