Codrin Bălan#Artemis — 2346

Convergence T-minus 1 day, 2 hours, 12 minutes

During the short break, Codrin helped True Name compose her letter and, after ey sent it, simply sat with her in quiet. The skunk remained still throughout, sitting on the edge of the bed and staring down at her knees. She looked small, and some part of em wanted to sit beside her and try to comfort her, but for the emotional and social distance between them, as well as her still jittery form.

And so ey simply sat at her desk and watched her manage her breathing, keep her composure, meditate, or whatever it was that an Odist unbound did.

Finally, ey reached out to offer a hand to the skunk to help her stand. “It’s time we start back, True Name.”

She sighed, nodded, and waved eir hand away, standing on her own. “Thank you, Mx. Bălan. I appreciate your help.”

Ey nodded, hesitated as ey composed eir question, and then asked, “I don’t wish to overstep my bounds, here, and will accept no as an answer, but can you tell me what exactly it was that Why Ask Questions meant by ‘I cannot feel em’?”

After a moment swaying, the skunk straightened up and brushed her paws down over her blouse, straightening some imagined crease. “You ask because of the pronoun?”

Ey nodded.

“I cannot tell you,” she said. Looking steadily at em, she fixed a kind and competent expression in place. It bore a force to it, as though she was willing em to drop the subject. “And that I cannot should explain enough.”

Codrin blinked, clutched eir notebook closer to eir chest, and bowed to her. “Of course, True Name. Shall we fetch Why Ask Questions?”

The other Odist was not to be found in her room. She had apparently remained where she had been sitting before, arms crossed on the edge of the table with her head resting on them. Every time there was a shift in her form, it brought a jolt or an uncomfortable squirm, and yet she did not lift her head, even when True Name knelt down beside her to speak in hushed tones.

The rest of the delegates arrived shortly after, Tycho and Stolon both looking quite happy. There was a moment’s shuffling as Tycho, Sarah, and Codrin were shifted down by one so that True Name could remain sitting by her cocladist.

Even so, the meeting was slow to get started. There were a few questions asked by both sides about history, but they all felt very careful, well constructed, and circumspect. It was plagued by silences and subtle glances to where Answers Will Not Help rested her head on the table.

“From the sounds of it,” Iska said. “Of the four organic species present, all began their projects of building embedding systems after a traumatic event. It seems to be a common feature of biological systems. The desire to protect oneself or one’s species from trauma is a common feature of all life.”

“We ran-existed in simulation space within our physical-corporeal bodies-shells. There was no difference-change from post-biological life-existence and living in embedded form,” Turun Ko added. “We are unable to add-explain to the topic of biological trauma. Apologies.”

True Name nodded. “We understand, recorder Turun Ko.”

“If I may ask,” Codrin began. “Was there a period of adjustment for firstrace after–”

“Prophets!”

Silence fell once more around the table. Answers Will Not Help pushed herself to her feet. Waves of skunk and human crashed violently across her form. She was crying harder than before. Her back arched taut and she laughed up toward the ceiling, a choked, gasping sound.

True Name, struggling to hold her own form together, reached out to tug at Answers Will Not Help’s sleeve. “Please, my dear,” she murmured. “Representative Why Ask Questions, please sit down. I know it is–”

“I am not her! I am not her. She is another me, who dreams when she needs an answer. I am Why Ask Questions When The Answers Will Not Help, who knows God when she dreams. Dreams! If I dream, am I no longer myself? Don’t…I…”

True Name froze. Everyone froze.

“We were told–” Sarah began, before Answers Will Not Help cut her off.

“Prophets! Oh, where is Ezekiel when we need him? A meeting of prophets! Navi to nevi’im! The voice of God from the sky in a pillar of flame!” She looked around, wide-eyed, and her voice grew conspiratorial. “Or Qoheleth, a prophet of our own blood, bearing warning of memory entrancing!”

Her words came out in an unceasing torrent. She waved her hand/paw toward the Artemisians, giggling. “But instead we are Israel to nevi’im, a people to prophets, a people to prophets! A people with our own personal HaShem, and the only time I know my true name is when I dream, and to know one’s true name is to know God. Time feels so vast that were it not for an Eternity— Fuck, I…time makes prey of remembering, I…I fear me this Circumference engross my Finity— Oh AwDae, oh AwDae. Could you ever have guessed at the depths of the death of memory?”

True Name stood quickly enough to knock her chair back and, with a decisive wash of skunk down her form, growled, “How fucking dare–”

The rest of the delegation pressed away from her with a shout. The firstracers rose up to their full height and Iska blurred quickly to stand atop their stool, shouting, “Iha!”

“To his exclusion who prepare by process of Size…of…” Answers Will Not Help continued, unfazed. She was phasing in and out of common time now, despite the promise of unison. Her words jittering now fast, now slow. She turned to True Name, eyes pleading. “I cannot feel em here. We are so far away from home. I cannot…I miss em, I miss em. I miss…was that eir prophecy? Was that why ey wrote me? Is this AwDae’s words come true?”

“Stop!” True Name shouted. She swiped out at her cocladist, managing to grab a fistful of her blouse, roughly yanking her closer.

With surprising speed, Answers Will Not Help slid a foot back and struck True Name’s forearm with a downward strike of her own, getting a yelp from the skunk and forcing her to let go. She stumbled back, gasping, “The flow of prophecy climbs up through the years, winter upon winter upon winter, and compels the future to do its bidding! Ey said…ey said…”

True Name bared her teeth, tackling the blurring, crumbling form of Answers Will Not Help to the ground. “Fucking stop! You cannot–”

After a moment’s tussle, Answers Will Not Help sprawled flat the ground, limp and laughing, retching, crying. “For the Stupendous Vision of eir diameters—” she said, and then quit, leaving True Name to fall to the ground, weeping.

There was a stunned silence around the table, and when no one moved, Codrin slid out of eir chair to kneel by True Name’s side. Her form had begun to waver once more, and, remembering the aversion to touch that came with that, ey simply knelt beside her, waiting until she calmed down.

It was Sarah who broke the silence. “What just happened?”

Codrin spoke carefully. “As mentioned, True Name and, uh…Why Ask Questions — that is, Michelle Hadje — were among the lost, and I guess time skew is similar enough to–”

“No,” the Odist said between heaving breaths, clutching at her arm where it had been struck. “She was right. That was Answers Will Not Help.”

Tycho frowned, nodded. “We had guessed.”

“She should not have been able to do that,” Iska said, nearly growling. “She should not have been able to do any of that. No skew, no exit. What was she? Who are you?”

“Leader True Name,” Turun Ko said. “Please explain the connection to ’lost’ in this context.”

She did not move from her spot on the floor. “You have heard about what it means to get lost, but there is no possible way that I can explain the way it has warped us. To get lost is to go mad.”

Silence and stillness fell once more as all waited for True Name to continue. After a few long breaths and coarse swallows, she mastered her form once more. She knelt beside Codrin, wiping at the tear streaks on her muzzle and the dripping from her nose.

“We are incomplete. We are unwhole.” Her voice was bitter, even as she worked to bring back that mask of competence. “We were broken and remain so. I do not know how it is that Answers Will Not Help was able to…to manage skew or quit. You have my most abject apologies for the trouble caused, and for the deception with–”

“Leader True Name,” Turun Ka said, interrupting as politely as it had before. “There will be time to discuss this topic. That time remains in the future. For now, please take this opportunity to, lu…gather yourself and clean up. You may take as long as you require. When you are able, you and I shall meet in our role as leaders.”

The skunk wilted, her ears splaying to the sides. “Of course, leader Turun Ka.”

“Are you amenable to increasing the skew in the unison room? This will allow you to take all the time you need.”

She nodded. “Yes, that would be fine. It is uncomfortable, but I can sleep through the discomfort.”

“Aën,” it said. “We shall return here in half an hour common time. The other participants shall meet in the central courtyard.”

“I will join shortly,” Iska said. “I must contact a technician, first.”

They did not wait, but seemed to disappear as they shifted up to a high enough skew to travel faster than ey could perceive.

Codrin nodded to the other emissaries. “Go ahead. I’ll help True Name to her room, then join up with you in a bit.”

“I am sorry,” True Name mumbled, barely loud enough to be heard.

“Leader True Name, please understand that you are in no way responsible. Even your deception was, as you say, wargamed. We will discuss shortly.”

“Rest,” Artante added. “Become whole.”

As the others departed Codrin held out eir arm, letting the skunk clutch it tightly as ey helped her to stand. They swayed together at the brief sensorium twinge as the unison room was skewed up by a factor of two.

The walk down the hall was a slow and unsteady affair, and Codrin couldn’t help but see every one of True Name’s two and a half centuries in the way she moved. She looked as she always had, was as strong as she’d ever been, and yet each one of those long years seemed to be a weight she had to draw along behind her. She kept her grip on eir forearm throughout, however, as though the contact kept her pinned to one reality.

Ey guided her into her room and helped her to sit down on the edge of her bed, and even then, it took her a few long seconds to loosen her grip.

“You heard nothing today, Mx. Bălan,” she mumbled, quiet enough that ey had to lean closer to hear. “I know what you thought you heard, but you heard nothing. Do not tell anyone. Do not tell Ioan, and certainly do not tell any others within the Ode clade.”

Ey took a half step back from the skunk. So hoarse and clouded was her voice that ey couldn’t piece together her mood. “I…is that a suggestion or a threat? I’m sorry, True Name. I know how much it means, I just–”

She smiled weakly and shook her head before laying out on her side, rubbing her arm and wincing. “I am sorry. It is a request from me to you, Codrin, from my clade to yours. Across our two entangled clades.” The smile faded as she added, “Not…a request. A plea.”

Ey nodded, struck silent by the sincerity in her voice. Real, actual sincerity. It made em feel bashful. Ey bowed and started to turn back toward the door.

“Codrin?”

“Yes?”

Her voice was small. It bore fear and anxiety alongside the omnipresent exhaustion. “Can you please stay for a few minutes?”

“I, uh…” Ey swallowed dryly. “Do you need anything?”

“Just for someone to be present. I may need your help writing another note back to Castor in a bit,” she said, then had to master some hidden emotion before continuing. “But right now, I just need someone to anchor me. You are very good at that.”

After a moment’s hesitation, ey nodded, pulling up a chair from the small table in the center of the room. Ey sat beside the skunk as she lay still on the bed, eyes closed, her breathing growing more steady, and then slowing as she drifted into sleep.

Ey watched her doze fitfully.

What was it Dear had said? That she was still a fully realized person? She does still have emotions, they simply come from a place that we cannot access.

Ey wasn’t sure how much ey believed that now, that they came from a place ey could not access. True Name had the same emotions ey did, ey knew now, and they came from that very same well within her. She had just become so singular an entity that their expression could only be framed through one very small, very precise lens.

Hers was a control borne of anxiety, a competency borne of trauma, and this knowledge meant that ey could never unsee the core, fully realized humanity within her.

All that may be, but what do I do with it? ey thought. And how the hell am I going to keep what I heard hidden and buried?