Nevi'imPost-Self Cycle book III

Tycho Brahe#Castor — 2346

Convergence T-minus 2 days, 19 hours, 3 minutes

“Do you eat?” Why Ask Questions asked. “We should probably wrap up shortly for rest, but if you feel the need to eat, we can ensure that you are able to do so.”

Turun Ko tilted its head to the side. “Is eating required-necessary for proper function?”

She shook her head. “Not at all, no, but it is a comforting thing for us, so the ability to do so is present.”

The two firstracers turned their heads to the side in a negative. Artante bowed. “I would appreciate the ability to do so.”

“The same, ka,” Stolon added.

Why Ask Questions nodded and stood. “I will provide a short primer if you need. Otherwise, shall we reconvene in nine hours? This will allow us time to recuperate.”

“Ten hours would be preferable,” Iska said.

“Can arrange sleeping area?” Stolon appeared concerned, adding, “Require additional warmth.”

The rest of the table got to their feet while True Name said, “Of course. We will endeavor to make your stay pleasant. Why Ask Questions and I hold ACLs to this sim, including for your rest area. If you will permit us to enter, we will make any changes required.”

Tycho watched as the Odists and Artemisians disappeared around the corner — and for several seconds after. It felt as though his eyes had been locked into place there, no matter how much he wanted to turn around and hunt down a chair more comfortable than those around the table.

“Tycho? Coming?”

He jolted, forced himself to look away, and smiled to Sarah, abashed. “Yeah, sorry. Guess I’m kind of beat.” He rubbed his hands over his face, ground the heels of his palms against his eyes. “Lead the way, I guess.”

They trudged off to the room, stepping around the corner in time to catch a second Codrin handing Codrin#Castor a few sheets of paper. Ey waved.

“Any news you’d like me to forward on to your #Artemis instances?”

“Oh, uh.” Tycho frowned. “Not really, I guess. If you’re sending notes. I guess just wish them well. I hope Tycho#Artemis is getting a chance to talk with Stolon. They seem neat.”

Ey grinned, nodded. “Lots of time, from the sound of it. Ey’ll tell you more,” ey said, gesturing toward Codrin#Castor. I’m just the messenger, though. I only get a few minutes here at a time."

“I won’t keep you,” Sarah said. “But if you could send the other me a note asking about the overall mood and sentiment over there, I’d be grateful.”

Codrin#Assist hesitated, a look Tycho couldn’t puzzle out crossing eir face. Finally, ey nodded. “I will, but you will find much of interest in Codrin’s letter. I’ll leave it up to #Castor’s discretion to share, though.”

Codrin#Castor frowned, flipping through the pages of the letter ey’d received. “We’ll find some time to talk, yeah. Thank you, #Assist. I’ll have another letter for you in the morning.”

Ey bowed and disappeared back through the DMZ barrier.

“Complicated stuff happening over there?” Tycho asked.

“Very, but…well, let me digest this a bit before sharing. Should eat, too.”

He nodded and headed over to the buffet table lining one wall, poking around through the dishes on offer. He settled on a simple sandwich, and the three of them sat at the dining table to eat in a bit of blessed silence.

Once they were finished, Sarah asked, “It’s only fair that I ask you as well as the emissaries. How are you feeling about things so far?”

When Codrin didn’t respond, Tycho shrugged. “Overwhelmed, still. I really like Stolon, and kind of wish I could just talk with them for a while instead of working through this whole process.”

“Maybe we can figure out how to do break-out meetings or something.”

“I guess, yeah. See if we can beg time and space for our one fork each. Still, I understand the reason for things working the way they do. We’re not having an astronomy conference.”

Sarah laughed. “That might be easier, yes. Certainly easier to connect on sciences than the social side.”

“You seem to be connecting quite well with Artante,” Codrin said once ey’d finished the salad ey’d settled on. “And it sounds like the same is true on Artemis.”

“Oh? Does it sound like much the same dynamic over there?”

“Well, for us three, yes. For the Odists, no. It seems like–” Ey cut emself off, averting eir gaze from the entry as True Name and Why Ask Questions came in.

Neither looked happy. They paused their rather heated discussion and served themselves dinner before making their way over to True Name’s partitioned-off rest area. Before sliding the screen shut, the skunk nodded to Codrin. “You may share, Mx. Bălan. If you already know, then there is no harm in the others knowing, too. Perhaps Ms. Genet will have some insight, as well.”

With that, the screen slid shut and the room went silent, the two Odists apparently having set up a cone of silence.

“Well…” Ey shrugged. “I guess I’ll just read you the pertinent parts. There’s some clade-eyes-only stuff, so I’d prefer not to just hand it over.”

Once ey had finished explaining what Michelle went through and describing the situation aboard Artemis, the three sat in silence.

“Well, I guess that explains their sour mood,” Sarah said at last. “That rather changes things, doesn’t it?”

“How?” Tycho asked. “Or, well, how do you mean? The mechanics have changed over there, but I’m guessing you mean something more subtle.”

She nodded. “It’s no longer an even playing ground on Artemis. Our leadership role is acting in reduced capacity and it sounds like one of our representatives has been all but taken out by the time skew.”

He sat back in his chair, feeling marginally more human now that he’d eaten. He tried to picture how this must look given the spotty descriptions provided in the letter and the few details Codrin had seemed willing to fill in.

None of that seemed to jive with his experience with any of the Odists he’d met until now. Dear was weird, sure, but even it seemed to be completely in control of itself — more so than most anyone he’d met, at that. To think of True Name as being barely able to hold it together and Why Ask Questions all but non-functional beggared the imagination.

“It’s weird,” he said, looking up to the ceiling. “I almost wish I was over there. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I feel sorry for True Name and Why Ask Questions, but the ability to literally steal some time to have a conversation sounds completely up my alley. Way more than forking, honestly.”

“Well, when Tycho#Artemis returns, you’ll at least get to remember that.”

He laughed. “I guess, yeah. I’m eager to hear what all they’ve been learning. It’s been interesting hearing what I can. I don’t have the eye for learning styles that either of you two do, so I’m missing out on that aspect, but even just hearing information about their gravity assist and how much they were able to learn about us as they zipped through our system was surprising. They ignored Lagrange and Earth entirely, and didn’t bother with Pollux, since it was easier to align with us, anyway. It makes them seem like past masters at this, even if it’s only the fourth time they’ve done this ‘convergence’ thing. Makes sense, though. Earth wouldn’t hold much interest for an LV that can’t even access it, and they’re not going to stop to deal with the Lagrange System if they have access to us. Who knows, maybe they’ve gone past way more civilizations than those on Artemis, we just happened to meet the criteria. True Name mentioned that maybe rather than energy usage, a better measure of how advanced a civilization is would be whether or not they’ve invented uploading.”

Codrin had started jotting down notes part way through, nodding. “These are good questions to be asking. We’ll have to find a way to work them in. I’ll send them over to Artemis in the morning, too, so that the other Codrin can ask, as well.”

He nodded.

“You mention that some portions of life on Artemis are appealing to you,” Sarah said after a healthy pause. “Is that more positive than you were feeling about them before?”

“I guess,” he hazarded. “I was more afraid of them, perhaps, but in that way that one is afraid of the unknown at one’s doorstep. Afraid of the dark rather than afraid of monsters.”

Codrin grinned. “Well put.”

“But now, well…I know I’m not supposed to anthropomorphize them, but having met them, they’re a lot less scary because there are still similarities between us. They breathe. They sleep. They get frustrated. That, combined with the appeal of time skew over forking, has me feeling much more curious than anxious.”

“It’s almost impossible not to anthropomorphize to at least some extent,” Sarah said, nodding. “It’s just how our minds work. I’ll agree with you on that, though; even though they are still worlds different from us, it’s not like we totally lack commonalities. Most of the differences seem to be surface ones, actually. Gestures and body language are foreign, but the number of truly fundamental differences in how we think has been pretty low so far, and mostly restricted to the two firstracers.”

“They do seem to be operating on a different level,” Codrin said. “I think if they had expressive faces, True Name would like them immensely.”

She nodded, then asked, “Has your opinion of them changed?”

Ey shrugged. “Not particularly. I am curious about this time skew thing, but not nearly to the extent that Tycho is. I think it’s tempered by being in a relationship with an Odist. It’d be fascinating, but Dear will never be able to experience it, or at least never agree to. I still bear a lot of the same anxieties, but I’m getting more comfortable with the process, because this role is familiar to me, at least.”

“Doing a job you know how to do?”

Ey nodded. “It’s my job to observe, to take in information and form it into something coherent.”

“Which is fascinating to me,” she said, sounding excited. “It’s got me thinking about how I approach this, too.”

Eir smile was weak. “I enjoy it when I’m in the middle of it, but it’s hard not to feel like I lack agency, sometimes. After more than a hundred years, that part is starting to get old.”

“Looking forward to something new after this?” Tycho asked.

Ey shrugged noncommittally.

“Well, I’ll learn from you while I can,” Sarah said. “And if you need any help or anything, or want me to spell you for a bit, I’ll do what I can.”

“Thanks, yeah.” Ey sighed. “My thoughts on it are incomplete as yet. I’ll figure it out over time, I’m sure.”

“I’m glad to have you about either way,” Tycho said, surprising himself with the earnestness in his voice. “You’re really…I don’t know. Grounding, perhaps?”

Ey laughed. “What does that mean?”

“Like you’re here to witness it, and so everything that happens will have to have at least some basis in reality.”

“It’s quite important to feel witnessed,” Sarah added. “Not just for ensuring that an experience is real, but for personal validation.”

“Right. You being here makes me think I’m not crazy, that maybe I really am a part of something big.”

Codrin crossed eir arms and leaned back in eir chair, expression thoughtful. “Thank you both, I’d not thought of it that way. That’s a role I feel more comfortable with.”

He nodded, then stifled a yawn. “Weird times. Weird, but interesting. I’m at least feeling better about just inviting aliens over without consulting anyone first. For now, though, I’m going to try and sleep, and see if I can snag some extra time with Stolon in the morning.”

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