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What of the outsiders?
They have left.
What of their resources, the travel-pod, the micro-hive?
They took those things with them.
Have those with roles on the surface of the hive...
The thought is interrupted, the ones on the surface with roles. They support the outsiders, they protect their decisions. and claim the role they provided as a necessary one.
One has even taken his Rest-pod and tied it there to guide and to view. To maintain things better.
Can we who manage the hive accept this state of affairs?
Can you who manage the hive know the outside, the movement, what is on the surface?
We have lost the memory and storage of the outsiders. But one of us has taken his pod and made it part of a role there. If all that memory for that task. if less of those roles are needed then those memories can be used.
Would he trust the outsiders not to have sabotaged that?
They have changed the healers, but more work past stupor. And less stupor is needed. The role of the decontaminator has shown results, even if we did not approve of the reallocation.
It is good that they are gone. But we have taken the roles they brought with them.
And these roles still serve the hive.
We shall let these things be.
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The hive moves and the hive changes and paths are made safe.
He guides the young between the paths from role to role, from place to place. Touching the memories shared between roles, gently. To become something required more, and each had 2 shards with which to record what they would keep and grow from.
Yet safety comes first in nurturing the young. To follow the listed paths, to hold onto each other.
And yet one wishes to leave the paths. to join those who fly. To be the one that changes them. And that moves, and keeps the others safe.
He guides the young between the paths, passing by and interacting with those who are safe. He nurtures the young
The hive must nurture the young.
And he is one of those that makes it so.
And so they visit, He Who Adjust the paths. Passing and reaching He Who Flies. They shall know where others are, communicate, and align in the understanding of paths.
And He Who Adjust the Paths assists in guiding the young, reaching, gripping, and passing thoughts, an understanding of the hive some would maintain in their Pods.
The paths maintain faster travel, and we pass each other, transferring food, communicating changes but most of all, knowing who they are and what role they serve. Through this we keep the hive connected, all fed, and though it strains our memories, and costs effort that could keep us awake, it provides safety, It allows us to see when others need rest when we need stupor. And the speed of the wings and paths, the survival of the important roles. It is an inefficiency of effort. But it is a necessary strain even for those workers. For the paths, and the knowledge of the paths create a greater efficiency than what is lost.
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He sits in his memories, she sits in her memories, I sit in my memories.
The name that I took, Arlif, memories I've collected value found. For a while I was She Who Remembers the Ship.
To the hive I was another She Who Remembers.
Yet I who is She understnds value, and so here I keep more memories in my pod. I cannot be all this when I leave, yet I have a wealth of memories and shards. For when I was He Who Ensures Creation, I had adjusted paths.
And then I was He Who Understands Flow.
And She Who Remembers the Old Paths. Or some of them, many memories lost and shards rewritten, but some were kept, for they were needed for construction.
Though I had not seen the memories of my name, the memories of my great project remained. And like They Who Keep Time. Who were once they Who Count Time. To travel and track paths. I had that to consider.
And the hive grew without me, and many were in need of healing and I have earned a wealth of Shard-matter. A wealth of memory.
Through this, I become another She Who Remembers. And as She Who Remembers I was given to remember more.
I Shall Return to She Who Remembers Those Who Left. She Who is Without a Name.
For in the greater structure that I've made of my pod
I prepare my travel pod and its wings I go out into the pod as Ar-lif, as She Who Remembers Names.
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the movement, the mastery. The joy of flight.
It is enjoyable, and the distance is covered he reaches to the guide net to ensure he retained his location and path.
He Who Flies, Flies, and as he flies he examines and he pauses. Visiting those he passes and the structures they reside within, trading shard for shard, updating their understanding of pathing of the hive. Of the locations and constructions. Of the paths of movement.
For the hive moves and the paths move the memories of the paths must remain updated and since the paths change so must the locations of the overpods, and all must know where they are.
He delivers food, and he comes across a structure, one that was not on the designated path. It feels, similar in shape to an overpod, but who dwells inside? Were they on the path of those who've been delivered food?
He has some food with him, so He Who Flies goes around it, he finds the entrance and reaches inside gently, not to disturb the one in there.
There is no one reaching back there is no response. But there are memories tied to the walls, and a mechanism of string at the entrance, adjustable.
He feels around it, mechanisms to move, string looped in gentle yet still hard materials. A mechanism similar to what built his wings.
Adjusted differently. A mechanism to create greater motion in another. What of the larger movable mechanism, one such as those for the wind tunnels?
He reaches further, finding a larger section, he pulls on it and feels a vibration going through the inside of the structure. Yet nothing happens.
What of the one within? Is that one in stupor?
He Who Flies delivers a small food packet. And marks it on his shard recording the flight paths. Then he continues on his way.