Codrin Bălan#Emissary — 2346

The next note that came from Castor included a block of indecipherable text that was marked as clade-eyes-only for Turun Ka.

Codrin puzzled over this during a private minute in fast time.

Normally, clade-eyes-only or individual-eyes-only text for someone other than the recipient appeared as that header of, for instance, Bălan Clade-Eyes-Only Material followed by an indication that such text might be there, but nothing about its contents, including its length or composition. For em, this usually appeared as an ellipsis in square brackets, long-standing traditions of elision being what they were.

This, however, appeared to be text of the type ey’d grown used to in encrypted blocks. Letters, numbers, punctuation, all crammed into a single unbroken chunk. More, some of the characters appeared to be restless. They strained at their form, as though they desperately wanted to be something else, and when ey looked away and back, they were indeed that other form, and some other character nearby would be itching to change, instead.

Clearly, one of the delegates from the LV had instructed the Artemisians on not just how to send text back to Artemis, but how to do so in a private way. Artemis itself, however, couldn’t figure out how to represent that, and perhaps that’s what clade-eyes-only text might actually be in the perisystem architecture.

Ey recreated the note on a few fresh sheets of paper, eir own message on one and Turun Ka’s on another, and headed back to the meeting.

“Leader Turun Ka,” ey said, once they were gathered together once more. “I have received a message from your counterpart back on Castor. It is encrypted for your eyes only, though I’m not sure how well that functionality transfers between systems.”

The firstracer’s head remained still, leaving no clues as to its opinion of this matter, and it accepted the note that Codrin passed over gracefully. It didn’t hold it up to see or bow its head to look down at it, so ey figured that as soon as it changed hands, it must have changed its form. Paper, after all, was only a symbol. Letters, words, and written language only signs.

“Thank you, recorder Codrin Bălan.”

As ey expected, this was followed up by a blurred meeting of the Artemisian delegates in fast time.

Ey spent the time sneaking glances at True Name and Answers Will Not Help, catching Tycho and Sarah doing the same.

True Name, despite maintaining careful control of her expression, still appeared to be beyond tired. The flickers of her human form came more regularly, now, and, while her appearance as a skunk remained polite, attentive, and receptive, that human face showed only exhaustion.

Answers Will Not Help, however, was a mess.

Her form rippled between species, and with it, so to did her expression. She would veer wildly between barely constrained laughter and agony, all while tears coursed down her cheeks or left tracks in fur. She managed to keep quiet for the most part, though occasionally a snippet of poetry would escape her: here a line of the Ode, there a bit of Dickinson. She had even startled Tycho at one point by quoting something ey didn’t quite recognize: “I have sown, like Tycho Brahé, that a greater man may reap…”

This wild dissociation from the world around her was made all the more unnerving by the fact that ey could tell that she was having a difficult time staying within common time.

She never veered far from it, only within a range of 0.1 to either side, but even that carried with it a sense of wrongness. They were in a unison room, which ey’d been told meant that she specifically shouldn’t be able to do that — something that she had specifically requested.

Iska had hardly taken their eyes off her since they’d noticed, as well, as though they were trying to puzzle out just how it was that this was happening.

They were only two and a half days into the conference and, while both sides had learned much about the other, ey wondered if they’d even be able to make it to a week.

Or even the end of today, ey thought. Answers Will Not Help looks like she’s about to explode.

“Leader True Name,” Turun Ka began, once the delegates had returned to common time. “While I am not able to divulge the contents of the note I have received, it has led to a discussion amongst us, and we would like to ask about your history.”

“From the founding of the System?” she asked, voice tight.

“Apologies, leader True Name. We would like to know about your history. You and your cocladist.”

Her shoulders sagged. “Would you like information specifically relating to our appearance here on Artemis?”

“This is a good place to begin.”

…

Discusses openly about news from Artemis and some of the problems the Systems have had in the past, Artemisians describe some of their own. AWNH and TN are both struggling now, each getting occasional flickers of Sasha/Michelle. They call a brief break, Turun Ko says take as long as you need b/c time is maleable, AWNH cries, refuses.