“In this world you can be oh so smart or oh so pleasant. For years I was smart. I recommend pleasant.” -Elwood P. Dowd, Harvey-

_____

Sarah had become familiar with her basement recording studio to the point that she was almost worried that she was here too often. Almost.

The thing was, if she wasn’t here, she’d just be out there talking to the same people about the same things anyway. In the absence of social contact, Sarah would track it down like some kind of friend-seeking missile. But since she now held the power to summon people at will to her demesne, that kind of legwork wasn’t needed. Interesting conversations were just an interview away, and with the added benefit that she could get useful information to the rest of the Order faster than just telling them one at a time.

Not that she wasn’t sometimes out there, doing stuff. Sarah still went on delves, and spent half her free time in Clutter Ascent, and had friends, and participated in half the events that happened around here. Her idea of downtime was kinda exhausting for a lot of people, and Sarah knew that, and tried to not inflict it on anyone against their will.

Which made Anesh’s new form something delightful for her, because her friend who previously had a fairly low tolerance for constant conversation now still did, but he had it four times over. Sarah could hang out with Anesh as much as she wanted, and he could tag out when he needed to, and it was great because it meant that fewer Anesh got left out.

Also it meant he was often available for her show when she asked.

“Today!” Sarah projected for the microphone in a way that Anesh smiled at sitting across from her. He’d gotten used to it by now, but it still was hard to not notice how her voice changed. “Part one of a new series on transhumanism! We have with us Anesh! Anesh, how’re you doing?”

“Thrilled and anxious.” Anesh answered honestly.

“James says that a lot. You two are perfect for each other.” Sarah said with a smile that was almost powerful enough to be picked up on the recording just by itself. “So, welcome back to the show.”

“Thanks. And it is actually fun to be here.” Anesh relented with a chuckle.

Sarah nodded. “So today, instead of the normal kind of discussion on what’s been going on, what new events are unfolding or magic is being put into action, I want to focus on something specific, and Anesh-centric.”

“Uh.”

“Oh don’t worry, it’s simple!” Sarah’s beaming look was reassuring enough that Anesh actually believed her. “I’d like you to tell me, and our listeners, what it’s like to be multiple people.”

Anesh held up his hand, slowly rotating his palm in a gesture of disagreement. “Well, first off, I’m not multiple people.” He said. “I’m not even multiple people in this studio. Like, there’s only one of me here.”

“For those that don’t know, and would like a quick introduction,” Sarah plowed forward, “Anesh has the ability to make more of himself. One of those orange absorb tasks from before we copied everything just to be safe. I think it involves larceny?”

“Theft, yes.” Anesh nodded to her, crossing his arms as he shifted awkwardly in his seat. “Stealing license plates. The stealing part is actually baked in, so it’s.. awkward. At best.”

It may have been awkward, but Sarah found it amusing enough that it didn’t even scratch her good mood. “So currently, there are four of you, yes?”

“Yeah. I’m keeping it there for now.” Anesh said simply.

“Well…” Sarah prompted, spreading her hands. “Why don’t we start there? Wanna tell us about why that is? Seems like a good portal to the experience of having several bodies.”

Anesh took a little while to compose his thoughts. Sarah had made it clear to him earlier that they could cut anything, so if he needed a minute for a question, there was nothing wrong with being silent while he pondered. She could spend that time looking over her list of questions, or thinking about what she was going to try feeding her pet raincloud later as part of their ongoing dietary experiments.

Eventually, Anesh pulled his hands away from where he’d pressed fingers together in front of his mouth, and spoke. “Alright.” He said. “The first thing is, I feel like I should be clear that I don’t have several bodies.”

“Are you sure? I’ve met some of you.” Sarah lightly prodded the conversation.

“Mmh. Yes, well. You have. But the thing is, there’s nothing magical that makes all of me, me.” Anesh thought about what he’d just said, and regretted it instantly. “What I mean is, when I complete that Officium Mundi quest and get a duplicate of myself, they appear as me, right then and there. We’ve got the same memories up to that exact point. But, we don’t keep the same memories. If I come into the Lair the next day, and the new me stays home and watches old seasons of The Amazing Race - “

“The new you is gonna have a lot of fun!”

“-probably. Not as much as the me that gets to play with magic. But the point is, I won’t have twenty episodes of television stuck in my skull, and new me won’t know anything new about orb interactions. We’re different people now. If someone makes a really good argument that changes my mind on something, then the differences between my personalities is going to start to diverge faster and faster.”

Sarah quirked an eyebrow as she met Anesh’s eyes. “But that doesn’t happen to you.”

“No, because skulljacks exist, for some reason.” He added the last part in a mutter that Sarah would later decide to cut from the episode. “So all versions of me, every couple days, sync up our memories and become the ‘same person’ again.” He made air quotes that would not be picked up by the mic. “So all of me are sort of interchangeable. At least, on a long enough timeline.”

“How’s it feel?” Sarah asked quietly.

“Which part?”

“Any of it. All of it. What’s it like to suddenly be a new Anesh? Since, I mean, you would have lived that experience several times, right?”

“Yeah, five or so.” Anesh nodded, grimacing. “It’s not bad? I used to lie to people and tell them that I didn’t know which of me were the copies, but I knew. All of me knew. It’s actually really disorienting; from my perspective, I just teleported about three feet, and all my clothes are gone.”

“…you know there’s probably a market for that in the Order?” Sarah said pensively. “Hey, you made the new telepads, right? Do you think you could make ones that-“

“Sarah, you’re my boyfriend’s best friend. You’re also my friend too. I like you a lot. But please, please; in my limited social circle, you are the least lewd, and I would like to maintain that illusion.”

“Alright, alright. Spoilsport.” She giggled lightly. “So, tell us about being four people.”

Anesh smiled thinly. “It’s okay.” He replied. “Partly I want to say I’ve just gotten used to it, but I really haven’t. ‘I’ can get a lot more done than I’d expect, even now. Actually, you’ll understand this; how many personal projects do you have going, right this moment?”

“Eight.” Sarah answered without hesitation.

“Cool. Right. I should have guessed you’d be worse than even me. Well, imagine if every time you checked, you’d made progress on a couple of those, without actually doing anything. And then you think about it, and you remember doing the work, but it’s a bit distant.” Anesh’s smile turned wry and he tilted his head back. “The real problem is that I have every set of memories.”

“That seems like the perk of how you’re doing this.” Sarah pointed out.

Anesh shrugged, fidgeting with his microphone cord until Sarah leaned over to bat at his hand. “It’s not horrible, but it does mean that I have a weird grasp on time. If someone talks to me it can feel like it’s been several days since we last spoke, even if it’s only been a few hours. Also, every one of me is a full, valid person.”

“Well obviously. Also I’m really glad you’re not lying about that anymore!”

“Heh. Thanks.“ Anesh sighed. “But here’s the thing; all of me are living every part of their own lives. Which means that if one Anesh is… I dunno, grinding out sets of practice calculus equations in preparation for finals week…”

“Yes, terrible.” Sarah solemnly agreed.

Anesh snorted. “Hush. It’s fine. But that Anesh will have done that. And so when they share memories with me, and I’ve been doing a delve with friends, what happens?”

Sarah thought about it, then gave a hopeful answer. “You feel like you had a good experience while still retaining the knowledge from the tedious one?”

“Afraid not.” Anesh shattered her pleasant illusion. “I now remember two days. One where I was happy, one where I wasn’t. And with four of me, this problem becomes… socially awkward.” Sarah gave him a concerned look as he continued. “It’s, again, not the worst thing. And I can just do stuff with multiples of myself, no one seems to care. Even mundane people just assume I’m an irritating set of twins or something if I go out to eat outside the Lair. But usually, one of me is going to have memories of spending time with friends, going on a date with a partner, doing a podcast, doing something interesting. And the other three are going to remember a normal day, maybe a slightly lonely day, because everyone who I’m friends with has a good chance of already having talked to an Anesh that day.”

“That’s horrible!” Sarah said without thinking, ignoring that Anesh had just said it wasn’t.

“Well, I imagine it would be horrible for you. I don’t mind so much?” Anesh countered. “But I’m okay being alone sometimes. It is why I don’t keep making more of myself, though.”

“I can imagine!” Sarah added, before glancing down at her notes. “So, what’s dating like as a… actually, what’s the term for a person like you?”

Anesh grabbed onto the lifeline of the second question. “One of those is a fascinating thing to think about.” He nodded as he tried to forget the first question. “Well, I’m not a hive mind, so that’s out. I’m also not a gestalt, since I’m just a single person, but with… lots of that single person. James likes to call me a collective, but I feel as if I’m closer to a co-op. A co-op of Anesh. Because each of me could be a perfectly viable Anesh on their own. Or… well, a viable anyone, really, if they decided to change their names.”

“Has that happened to you?” Sarah asked, and Anesh silently congratulated himself for dodging the question about his romantic life.

“Not yet. And it might not ever, if I’m careful. Here’s something about either humans in general, or me in specific, that might interest any psychologists inexplicable listening to our internal update podcast. People take more than a few days to change their mind on something. Even with new information, or a strong debate that convinces me, I don’t just suddenly snap to a new position. But if I went long enough… yeah, I assume that each me would end up as different people. We’re shaped by our experiences, right? I don’t think I’m immune to that. I don’t think anyone is. We aren’t these immutable blocks of persona that the world flows around, none of us are. I’m actually absurdly lucky to have met James, and to have everyone here around me too, because all of that helped me be better than I think I would have been otherwise. Not that I hated myself or think I was wrong about anything in particular, just that I think we should always be open to improving.”

“So you’re not ‘resetting’ when you sync up?”

“Oh, goodness no. I still change. It’s just a little bit weirder. A little more consensus-based. I think. It really hasn’t been that long, and it’s not like I can compare myself to anyone else like me, sadly.” Anesh shook his head, lips pursed.

“Does that make you resistant to infomorphs? Or more susceptible? To one of them spreading through your different minds, I mean.” Sarah asked. “Like if Planner started with one of you, would you end up ‘kicking out’ Planner from the influence of the other three minds overwriting them, or would they just spread faster?”

“Probably the second one…” Anesh thought about it. “Yeah, they’d just spread. Because I don’t actually overwrite anything, all my memories are additive. Also why are we theorycrafting about my weaknesses? Is this a secret twist in the podcast where we talk about how to kill a transhuman?” Anesh gave Sarah a narrow eyed stare. “Are you plotting against us?”

“And that’s just about all we have time for with this interview!” Sarah declared. “Just one last question though.” Her gaze softened, putting Anesh at ease as she shrugged his direction. “Would you give it up?”

Anesh laughed. “How?” He asked. “I mean, I could stop making copies, but… at this point? It’s an everyday occurance. It’s my life. You might as well ask me to give up an arm. Which I could do easier than most people, admittedly, but still. I like me, I don’t need less of me.”

“That’s really sweet.” Sarah said earnestly. “Now! We’re done here! Everyone join me for part two tomorrow, where we absolutely won’t discuss Anesh’s secret weaknesses in more detail!”

Anesh folded his arms and grumbled. “It’s not hard, you just have to stop making white sedans and I’m out in the cold.”

_____

James let the warm water of the Order’s pool sized bath buoy him as he listened to Sarah’s podcast. Across from him, Alanna tried to dunk Anesh in a friendly tackle while his boyfriend sputtered water and tried to explain himself.

Not that he needed to. Sarah’s powers were vast and terrifying, and her ability to get someone to give a good explanation in an interview, the way she gave them time and space and the right prodding questions, was really impressive. A lot of this was stuff James and Anesh had sort of talked about from time to time; James knew for example that this Anesh who’d just come back with him from a week in the Ceaseless Stacks and was as happy as he was to be able to take a plunge in the hot waters of the Lair’s basement wasn’t the original. The ‘first’ Anesh, though they would never say the ‘real’ one, had died. And that little tidbit had been left out of the interview, possibly for good reason.

James and Alanna knew. And they didn’t give a shit. Anesh was Anesh. That was all that mattered to them. But even still, it was really cool to hear his boyfriend talk more proactively about what it felt like to be himself, what it meant to live a different kind of human life. And James did feel like he’d learned something important about his partner.

“Don’t tell people your secret weaknesses!” Alanna was yelling as she dove at Anesh. James coughed out a laugh as every serious and emotionally personal thought he was having was blown out of his head by the sight of Anesh slipping under the surface of the water to dodge Alanna’s attempted body slam.

It was very cute. It was also very something else; a large part of the Order, James included, were adapting easily to the public nudity of the baths, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t enjoy watching his girlfriend show off just how much control she had over her absurdly well built form.

Still. He felt a mild need to intervene. “Please don’t drown Anesh.” James asked as he floated by. “As we’ve just heard, he’s less replaceable than you’d think.”

“Bah!” Alanna proclaimed. “Don’t encourage him!”

“Encourage him to what?” James asked, legitimately confused. “Sarah said this was part one of a series of transhumanist interviews so I bet you a hundred orbs that Anesh is gonna be the most reasonable of all of them. I want him reasonableeeeee!” James’ words morphed into a surprised squawk as from the depths of the pool Anesh tugged on the feathered tail that Zhu had manifested and was using as a rudder to steer James while he floated. Zhu was still sleepy all the time from his suspected Underburbs infection, and awkward all the time whenever Alanna was around, but he had wanted to experience a hot bath, and didn’t need to breathe. James, for his part, couldn’t actually feel the tail itself, but he could feel the way he was yanked downward.

“James help Alanna is bullying me!” Anesh exclaimed as he came up for air, climbing up a flailing boyfriend.

“Just hide underwater!” James sputtered. “You don’t need to breathe!”

Anesh stared at him, and then took a long breath without breaking eye contact, before slipping back below the surface.

“Well I’m never gonna get him now, thanks.” Alanna laughed, swimming directly into James and wrapping around him in a tangle of limbs.

“I assume he’ll get bored eventually.” James said, looking down through the slightly cloudy hot water to where Anesh was relaxing on the bottom of the pool, a grin on his face as he showed off.

They relaxed for a while longer. There was only so long a human could spend in a warm bath, even this one, but James was intent on enjoying himself. The whole place had gotten an upgrade at some point; there were six of the large pools now, and the artistic riot of copper pipes overhead could dispense water of any temperature on command to any of the baths in a series of waterfalls. The tile mosaic on the wall of a familiar strider with his eye covered by a towel had been joined on the opposite side by a more finely detailed mosaic of a reclining camraconda that somehow managed to look exasperated even rendered in tile. Towel racks and a million soap dispensers were now installed in permanent spots and not just thrown in as an afterthought, the low warm lights made the whole place feel like a dream, and the presence of a hundred purification brooches let it all stay clean without the need for any extra chemicals.

It was great. James loved it. This was the sort of thing that magic should enable; just a few small tweaks to reality, and you could have this.

Eventually though, they had to get out. Partly because other people wanted to use the baths, partly because they had other stuff to do. They got dressed, purified the pool - the brooch, James noted, was close to leveling up, which was always satisfying - kissed each other goodbye, and updated the chart as they left to show their pool was open now.

Leaving behind the sounds of flowing water and cheerful conversation from the others in the bathhouse, James felt refreshed. The expedition to the Stacks had been long, tiring, draining, and also long. And while he knew he’d grown a lot since he’d first stumbled across the door to Officium Mundi, it was still a jump to go from a couple hours of hiking and a few combat encounters in a delve, up to a delve where the walking never stopped and the encounters happened on their own timetable. But he’d done it, and now a day after they’d been back, he already felt excited for the next one.

Already, plans were getting started for that one. The roster was being adapted based on changing circumstances, the lessons from the Stacks expedition were being applied, and in a week, James would be again leading another large group through a dungeon threshold.

But until then, he had small things to check up on, and a role as a paladin to fill. While he was part of the planning, he wasn’t the only one, so James was left to just experience a low level of anticipation as he went about his day.

It felt a little weird to sit down in his office to meet with Karen and Texture-Of-Barkdust while his hair was still damp, but James rolled with it. “So!” He greeted the two women who were already at his desk and talking in low voices. “What’s on the table today?”

“I am exceptional at my job.” Texture-Of-Barkdust said, the camraconda’s rectangular head tilting upward as she allowed herself a moment of pride.

Karen handed James a folder. “To elaborate, our first transfer has gone through with the materials processing company that we’re using to offload the endless font of platinum we’re making.” She shook her head slowly. “Research has four different requests for ways to alter the space around the duplication ritual, by the way. All of them would supposedly make it easier to transport the platinum, as opposed to what we do now, which is to move over a ton of material by hand every time we activate it.”

“All of them are unstable and Research should not be trusted. Chevoy and Mike would affix rocket engines to themselves if they thought it would let them run errands faster.” Texture-Of-Barkdust opined. “We wanted you to know they would be asking, and we would like to ask that you tell them no, and simply assign one or two extra sets of hands to move things.”

“Noted.” James agreed with the women instantly. And not just because Research’s investigations into spatial warping had blown up his car that one time. “So, they’re satisfied with buying from us?”

“More than.” Karen agreed. “At thirty million dollars for a ton of already processed and unmarked material, they are getting an amazing deal under current market rate.”

“Jesus. What do we even do with thirty million dollars?” James muttered without thinking.

“Pay taxes.” Texture-Of-Barkdust told him. “According to our legal team. It is to our advantage to not aggravate the IRS at this time. So we should pay taxes. After which point we will have twenty six million in profit.”

James blinked in confusion. “That doesn’t seem…” James looked at Karen and saw she already had an answer prepared for the question he was going to ask. “Yeah?”

“The more money you have, the fewer taxes you pay. You already know this, you just don’t like to think of yourself as ‘one of the rich’. You will need to get used to it.” Karen informed him. “Regardless. The money will go into our general fund, along with all future sales as well. This income stream will enable a number of projects, and I would like you or another paladin to sit in on some meetings this week before everyone hews off again to risk their lives.”

“There aren’t any other paladins yet.” James said. “Which I aim to fix after this series of delves and getting to know a few people closer.”

“Well then it will be you.” Karen said simply. “I have meetings scheduled for discussing beginning to construct our own transport company, our applied power plant technology, new hiring procedures and a refocusing of Response’s mandate, and large scale construction of totemic living spaces.” She met James eyes. “You are about to tell me this seems like a lot.”

James rose to the bait in protest. “It does seem like a lot!”

Texture-Of-Barkdust nodded with a light hiss. “This is what happens when there is only one paladin.” She said. “Find more. Make more.”

“I’m working on it!” James retorted. “Alright, alright. I can… probably do this. I’ll need to get Sarah to give me a nap at some point probably. When are these?”

“Over the next several days, though not tomorrow, as I am taking a personal day.” Karen said.

Texture-Of-Barkdust irised her camera eye in the camraconda version of an eye roll. “Yes, as am I, because I am helping you move.”

“You’re moving?” James asked. “I guess… do you need any help?”

Karen gave him a thin smile. “Thank you, no. I don’t need many of my personal effects, and the furniture of my home… well, the next buyers are welcome to it. As it turns out, you’ve directed the creation of some rather comfortable spaces here in the Lair, and it seems more convenient.”

“Yes, convenient.” Texture-Of-Barkdust irised her lens again.

James looked between the two of them. Then pressed the tips of his index fingers together in front of his lips. “Are you two… ” He started to ask if they were moving in together. Then realized that out of everyone in the entire Order, Karen and Texture were probably the two whose personal lives he was least connected to, and who would probably appreciate the questioning the least. “Nevermind. Let me know if you need someone big and strong to carry boxes so I can foist that job off on Alanna. What’s the meeting schedule, so I can plan around it?”

The look Karen gave James was one of quiet and simple gratitude for dropping the personal questions. And it reminded him that she was still a person, with her own thoughts on what was awkward or personal, what was worth talking about, what was the kind thing to do. She immediately took that small personal insight that she’d opened up to James and exploited it by dumping a list of dates and times on him.

Friday morning, a meeting about space elevator safety tolerances and prioritization for who they wanted to contact about their near-working prototype first. Friday afternoon - a schedule already so ambitious that James wanted to crawl in a hole and cry - was an open forum about Response activities, statistical analysis of their impact, meetings with the civilian oversight board, and an evaluation of their scope and mission statement. Saturday afternoon was simple by comparison; working out the logistics of redoing the apartments that they had a better floor plan for now - James personally believed strongly in ripping the bandaid off whenever possible - followed by, after a short break, a meeting with most of the same people and a fresh batch of legal experts to discuss large scale orange totem construction with an eye toward opening them to outsiders. Sunday was hiring, and James wasn’t the only one doing interviews, but he was part of the process, and he looked forward to that. Monday, because the list kept going, was an early morning security discussion on how to use the logisticors for transport without opening up the world to a new kind of warfare, and then a mid morning meeting with an actual representative from the local electric company to ask them if it was okay to wire a magical power plant into their grid and if the Order could get paid for that maybe.

James was smart enough to know that no amount of enhanced memory was going to save him here. Fortunately he had a planning program in his skulljack braid, which he filed it all into.

Then, through an effort of will, he refrained from openly sobbing, and thanked the two women for their time and help.

“Zhu.” James said quietly when they were out of his office. “I’m thinking of fleeing the country. Want to come with me?”

“Oh thank you yes please.” Zhu’s words were a rush of relief as the navigator manifested a small part of himself in a dusty glow. “I’ll book us plane tickets, I think I can do that. You grab the emergency bag Alanna put in your closet, and make us an escape playlist.”

“I’m thinking Banditos as the first song.” James nodded, making no motion to move from his seat where he had slumped back against the padding.

Zhu’s eye watched James for a moment before the navigator imitated a sigh. “Oh. We’re not running at all.” He said. “Well fine. But I’m going to sleep through every one of those meetings.”

“Yeah, that’s fair. I might too.” James said.

_____

“Welcome back to part two of the series introducing us to the more transhuman people in the Order!” Sarah’s cheerful voice filled the recording studio perfectly, setting everyone who heard it at ease. “Today we have another special guest, Marlea!”

Everyone on Sarah’s show was a special guest. She’d grown up with an exposure to Mister Rogers, and now that she had the chance to echo that great man’s words, she took the chance whenever she could.

“Thanks.” One of the two bodies sitting on the other side of the table said.

“Now, just to get something out of the way,” Sarah started, “can you introduce yourself, but in a way that minimizes confusion?”

Marlea gave a mirrored smirk. “Sure. Hi, the voice you’re hearing right now is me, Marlea.” Then the other body leaned in closer to the microphone, “And so is this voice.” They pulled back while the first one kept talking. “I tend to use this one for longer conversations, so you’ll mostly be hearing me, unless I need to sing harmony for myself.”

Sarah shot her a thumbs up at the perfect take. They’d actually planned that one, just for clarity. “Now if I understand correctly - which I should because I’ve read the essays you’ve written - you are one person, right?”

“Yes! Also I’m so glad someone read those. I worked hard on them.” One of Marlea’s bodies sighed in deep satisfaction while the other kept talking. “In case anyone doesn’t get it yet, I used to be two people, and now I’m not.” Both bodies in unison tapped the skulljack braids at the back of their heads that were far more complicated than the Order’s standard loadout.

Sarah dramatically cleared her throat. “No one can see you do that. But tell us about the skulljack component.”

Marlea nodded, one of her blushing slightly. “Right, sorry. Uh, yeah, I use the skulljack connection to live in a permanent state of combined consciousness. The two people I used to be chose to give up being individuals, to be one new person. And I know everyone finds that spooky or some sh… can I swear on this podcast?”

“I’d prefer not!”

“Some… thing.”

Sarah nodded vigorously. “Not to shove my own experiences into the conversation too much, but a lot of the Officium Mundi survivors are going to remember that state of existence as a bit of an existential nightmare. Is it not for you?”

The look Marlea gave her was one part smile, one part sad frown, and Sarah realized she was going to need to learn how to interpret emotions going forward from people who could express multiple complex thoughts at once. “There was a moment at the start when they weren’t sure if it was a good idea, and were just trying it out to see what it was like. But once I was here… I like being me. Neither of my members did. Do you know how it feels to hate yourself?”

The words came out like they weren’t supposed to, in a kind of quiet whimper, and Sarah held up a hand to her production assistant. “Hey.” She said softly. “If you want, we can cut that part, and move on.”

Marlea took a pair of deep breaths. “No, sorry, I’m good. Uh… can I try saying it again but without sounding like a little bitch about it?”

“Ssssure.” Sarah nodded, and her assistant gave her a thumbs up. “Okay. Go ahead.”

“Right. Do you know how bad it feels to hate yourself?” Marlea asked again, using her other voice that came across steadier for the moment. “To go from that, to feeling comfortable, feeling free, it’s great. And yeah, I know it spooks people sometimes, but it’s hard to care when I feel personally good about it.”

“Honestly? I think feeling good about who and what you are is the number one thing the Order wants for people.” Sarah said with a giggle. “We’ve got shaper substance surgery already for ratroaches and our trans friends, so psychic surgery for loving yourself doesn’t seem that weird!”

“No shit?” Marlea asked. “Wait, shit, I’m not supposed to swear. No… no kidding? I knew about the ratroach thing but not the other part. That’s cool.”

“It is!” Sarah agreed. “So, what’s it feel like? Being… actually, let’s do terminology first. What are you?”

“Oh, good question.” Both bodies nodded with different levels of exuberance. “So, singular pronouns for myself, each individual part is referred to as a member component, or just member. I phrase it that way because it’s entirely possible to run into future examples where someone might join me that has no body, or multiple bodies.”

“Love some good future proofing.” Sarah agreed.

“Exactly. You get me.” Marlea smiled happily as part of her drummed fingers on the back of their chair. “As for how it feels? It’s kinda weird in some places. Uh… I don’t have a good waterproofing solution, so taking baths is disorienting cause I have to go back to being individuals. I have no fffffreaking idea how to date anyone like this, because I think anyone who’d be into it would probably also be just the worst kind of guy? Like, I imagine… actually, I can’t swear, how horny can I be?”

Sarah threw her arms up over her head. “Oh I dunno, just go for it.”

“So I’m imagining that anyone who’d be ‘into’ me because of the hive mind thing is probably a dude thinking he can score infinite threesomes? But both components of myself were already used to being disappointed by guys, and while having two bodies opens up some fun opportunities, it doesn’t actually change the human desire for intimacy or anything like that. Might make it worse! Or, not worse… uh… more potent? I do think it’d be a lot harder to get stuck in an abusive relationship though cause I know I’ve got perspective now. But also it’s probably harder anyway since I’m a battle hardened knight at this point, so maybe I’m mixing those two things up. Actually, that’s sorta the thing, you know? I’m… I’m just me. I like me, and I like me being like this, but it’s just… I’m just Marlea. It’s hard to separate what it feels like to be a hive mind from what it feels like to be alive.”

“That’s actually really sweet.” Sarah said with a sappy smile on her face. She leaned forward on her elbows to ask the next question. “So how close were your member components before doing this? Or becoming you?”

“Oh! Not really that much at all.” Marlea laughed. “Actually here’s something most people will find either comforting or horrifying; the lines between individuals are actually really thin. You’ve all got more in common than you think, and slipping into a hive mind state that’s just accepting and loving is really easy. I think it’ll catch on in the future. Oh, though I should say, right now I’m speaking for humans; I haven’t added any other species yet. Open to it though!”

Sarah looked down at the little booklet she’d had printed off. “Yeah, I have one of your essays here where you talk about the implicit hierarchy of adding people to an existing hive. Are you still looking to add people anyway?”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Yup!” Marlea said while her other half gave a background “Oh yeah.” “I think it’d be cool to get more perspectives on life, but also to have more… more flexibility? More of me, more of a new way of being. Also just more minds; each physical brain still does work, so with two of me, I can think two things at once, which is uh… it’s… it’s hard to get used to, but it’s so cool. Uh… I know this is supposed to be sort of a neutral look, but I actually do think we should stop… stop acting like humanity ‘got there’ and that we should stop looking for new ways to be. God, girl, we’ve got magic, and we’re sitting around worrying about property codes and not about how we could turn our world into a single beautiful mind.”

“Quick question!”

“I’m not gonna try to eat everyone, no. Ugh. Everyone asks that.”

“Personally,” Sarah said with a shrug, “I trust you. I’m just asking for the audience. Which might be a flimsy excuse!” The two women shared a laugh. “Alright, last question. You obviously think it’s worth it, so I won’t ask that. But is there a trade off of some kind? Do you give something up to be you?”

Marlea thought about it, one of her bodies mouthing words to herself as she took advantage of Sarah’s dead air policy. “Okay.” She said quietly, eventually. Both of her components speaking in unison for this answer. “It’s funny? Both of these parts, when they became me, gave up a huge part of what we think of as being human. Gave up being individuals. Gave up being ‘free’, maybe. But they also gave up their fear, their isolation, their self-loathing. But it’s not like I’m some magical solution. Just because Maria and Leah aren’t afraid of dying or being alone anymore, doesn’t mean I’m not scared of new stuff. I’m scared I don’t know what I am, scared I’m screwing something up in totally new ways, scared I might change into something even I won’t recognize.” She shrugged, and one of her dropped back while the other kept talking. “So I guess I didn’t really give up anything. I just traded in my insecurities for new ones. More fun ones!”

“That’s absolutely the kind of optimism that I love to see, but also, I’m gonna try to get you to go to therapy after we’re done recording.”

“Sarah we have the same therapist, and she has no idea what to do with me.” One of Marlea rolled her eyes and crossed her arms while the other spoke.

Sarah laughed. “Alright! This has been part two of our series of interviews! I hope everyone had a good time, tune in next time when we discuss how to find a therapist as a form of life yet unseen on this world! Thanks for listening everybody.”

“And anyone who wants in on me, DM me!” Marlea tried to add at the end, with a level of cheerful eagerness that rivaled Sarah’s own.

_____

James was shaking with laughter as the podcast came to an end. His project abandoned for a moment as he just sagged against the workbench and enjoyed the antics of his friend and her interviewee.

The last time he’d talked to Marlea, he’d sort of gotten the impression that she didn’t exactly like him much. To be fair, it had been in a tense situation, but the version of her that he got to hear when she opened up to Sarah and the microphone was a world different from the version that was being mildly sarcastic to him in a ruined gravel lot by a now-immolated farmhouse.

When he stopped laughing to the empty basement room, James let out a long hoot of breath as he shook his head and found he couldn’t stop smiling. Sarah’s way of approaching the world was just so nice. She was the ideal citizen of his utopia, in a way.

The way Marlea looked at being a hive mind was also different than James had expected. It wasn’t even close to what he and his loves shared sometimes. When he and Anesh and Alanna plugged their minds together, it was a lowering of barriers. Sharing insecurities while also making their love and commitment to each other as blazingly obvious as possible. Marlea’s version wasn’t even a step farther; it was a different axis entirely. She went into the process like she was running away from herselves, and then built a new person out of that foundation.

“I’m thinking we should get in early.” Zhu said as James finished wiping the tiny tears out of the corners of his eyes, and refocused on his workbench. “You know, before she takes over the world.”

James rolled his eyes, which he was pretty sure Zhu could feel him doing. “Two… no, three things. First off, I’ve met her, I don’t think she’s that ambitious even with two sets of ambitions. Two, how would a hive mind even add you when your manifestation can’t get a skulljack? And three, you don’t think we could make a competing hive mind or something? Try to take over the world faster?”

“Oh. That does sound better.” Zhu rustled the long orange feathers on James’ arm. “We could race, which I always appreciate.”

“Again, pretty sure she’s not that ambitious.” James huffed out a laugh. “Also you’re pretty instantly on board with the hive mind hegemony, dude.”

Zhu rolled his eye at James, which James could certainly feel since it was manifested on his shoulder. “We need a better term than hive mind. I don’t even actually speak like you and that’s already getting exhausting. Also I’m a ghost made out of the idea of a map! A hive mind would love to have me!”

“You don’t need a hive mind for that.” James countered as he turned his attention back to what he was working on. “I already love having you around.” He left Zhu sputtering as he got back to work.

Right now, work was taking a box of new shield bracers, and infusing them with blue orbs to add the new ability to them. The rate of new bracer production had gone down since the Order had acquired long range mass teleport and clay pots that grew the stuff that made cures for lung cancer. But they still made a few of the things, and left them to build up charges before being depleted every few days to train them up to a more useful level.

This was a fresh box, and James wanted to make sure that these ones didn’t have the newest ability the Order had figured out how to add to them neglected. So he was doing this now, between meetings. Fake Stockpile was a marginally odd power, that, for the next year or so, would basically be limited to throwing out an illusion of a sword once a week. But sometimes that might be enough, so James was making sure everyone with a bracer would have that option.

The weird part about enchanting Status Quo items was how, once you could sorta do it, even half-assedly, it would give you the exact same result each time. So it wasn’t even that hard. He could do it while listening to podcasts. And as another blue and yellow orb pair slipped into the bracer he was working on, James added another completed item to his growing pile.

According to Karen’s schedule, he was supposed to be in a meeting right now. According to how James had experienced the first meeting, he was not. Like many people these days, he was familiar with the growing popularity of the phrase “this could have been an email”, and, perhaps inspired by Sarah’s efforts to show off the cooler side of their transhuman nature, James had his own version of it.

“This could be a .mem.”

The Order’s skulljack experts, programmers, and engineers were all still working to sort out better ways of both making and unpacking skill .mems. But when it came down to just packaging up an hour’s worth of memory and impressions, you didn’t need much more than a few gigs of space on a flash drive, and ten minutes of concentration. And James had made that clear after Chevoy had somehow made a discussion about a space elevator boring; packing up every piece of information from the meeting and handing it back to her, only to get a quick thumbs up that he’d gotten it all accurately. He’d then given Karen a similar file, though he’d made sure not to filter out his boredom for that one, and she’d rapidly admitted that maybe they could streamline their information distribution systems.

Karen had lived her life in corporate America, and while she was an expert in her field - and several new fields which might only exist in this building - she still had some bad habits. Habits like an unhealthy PowerPoint addiction. But even Karen saw the value in having presentations given to a single person who could then process the whole thing into concentrated chunks of digital files that could be copied and handed around. Maybe she saw the value for different reasons, but she still saw it.

“You effectively bought a day off by causing a technological revolution. Again.” Zhu’s voice sounded like an engine protesting a steep hill. “Why are we here and not doing something fun?”

“Well I had a suggestion but you vetoed it.” James smirked as he finished enchanting another shield bracer.

“I asked if you wanted to do anything and you just smirked - yes like that! - and started to say your partner’s names! That’s not ‘something’, and you know what I meant!” Zhu rustled his manifestation tighter to James. “But really. We should go out. Even just for lunch. How about walking to get lunch?”

James stomach growled abruptly and he narrowed his eyes. Had Zhu just made him hungry? More hungry than just the suggestion of lunch could do on its own. Though lunch sounded so good that maybe he didn’t need any magical powers used against him to make him want something. “Yeah, okay.” James gave in. “Look, I’ve got two of these left, and then we can go.”

“Excellent! I will take you somewhere.” Zhu proclaimed.

The words got a moment of hesitation from James, and he accidentally pushed too hard on the orbs he was working with without proper focus.

[+1 Skill Rank : Etiquette - Generational - Gen Z]

[Problem Solved : Drivers Updated]

[+1 Skill Rank : Weaponry - Wooden - Clubs]

“That’s the most useless weaponry skill I’ve ever seen and I can fight with a satchel.” James started to say to himself. “Wait, no, Zhu you can’t just decide my lunch.”

“Sure I can!” The navigator ominously and happily stated. “Or at least, I can determine where it is! You’ll see, it’ll be an adventure.” Zhu pulled his feather’s back into James’ skin, reshaping himself into lines of orange light that only James could see. Arrows leading out the door of the private work room, and upstairs somewhere.

With a sigh, James gave in, finished his work, and decided to follow Zhu’s ‘advice’. It didn’t take him very long to get into the spirit of it. By the time he was at the top of the stairs, his spirit was excited for an adventure where someone else told him what to do and he didn’t have any responsibility. A thing he’d more or less learned about himself on the expedition when he made Anesh give him assignments every day.

He was almost out of the Lair when he ran into someone. Not that there weren’t plenty of people around who gave him nods or simple greetings as he passed, but actually someone he bumped into. A short ratroach who pinwheeled their multiple arms as they reeled back from James, claws grabbing onto whatever was available to stall their fall.

Whatever was available happened to be James, who grabbed the ratroach’s arm and steadied them. “Sorry! Are you okay?” He winced slightly as he expected the claws to bite into his skin, but then found with surprise that they were smooth and slightly blunted. As James righted himself and the ratroach pulled back, he also realized that he practically towered over the five foot tall person. “Sorry again, have we met?” He asked the compact creature that had more smooth whorls of chitin than fur across the parts of themself that were exposed.

The ratroach caught their breath and shuffled back from James, a soft glow surrounding their head like a visible halo. “Ishah.” They said plainly, their voice sounding like an airy murmur.

“Oh. Oh!” James grinned. “I heard you were recovering! Congratulations on the new body.” Briefly, he wondered if that was the proper thing to say to someone who had gone through shaper surgery. It seemed accurate enough.

Ishah shrunk down slightly, the change in posture making them seem even smaller as the withered under the compliment from James. Right away James felt the kind of awkward regret he did whenever he was too forward with a ratroach around the Lair; like he’d overstepped and spooked someone who was still learning how to adapt to life here. But before he could apologize, the band of light around Ishah’s head solidified into a glowing ribbon that was much more visible and much more organic, and far, far longer than could have fit into that space. A dozen eyes opened across it, and the projected assignment spoke in Ishah’s place. “Thank you. He has worked hard on this, and appreciates the compliment deeply. Your attention and regard is-”

While the skin around Ishah’s eyes flushed neon green and he tried to flail his claws in the air around his head to dispel his companion, James bit back a laugh as his anxiety turned to amusement. “No, you know what? I completely understand this. I feel this way constantly.” He stated. “Were you heading out, or just lurking by the door?”

Ishah’s eyes were four in number, beady and dark, and unevenly spaced over his muzzle. The angles of his face, absent of fur, looked a lot more angular than most ratroaches who had it as a kind of visual camouflage of their actual shape. Those eyes locked onto James as Ishah tilted his head slightly left, opening his mouth a tiny bit but saying nothing until his infomorph partner started to glow in preparation for speaking up. “Yes!” He squeaked. “I was!”

Tucked under James’ coat, Zhu practically vibrated in amusement. James just held down a giggle. “Sorry, yes to which one?”

“Lurking.” The ratroach said, shamefully scratching at the carpet with one of his stockinged feet. “Moon said I should ask you a question.”

“Oh, sure. I was actually gonna go get lunch, do you wanna walk with me?” James offered, glancing slightly at the ribbon of eyes and blue light that seemed somehow far more smug than he’d seen an infomorph be before, and yet felt deeply familiar all the same.

Ishah had an instant answer. “No.” And then as Moon started to shift around his head, foot after foot of the living ribbon wrapping around Ishah’s shoulder and past his eyes, the ratroach relented. “Maybe. Yes.” He amended.

“You actually don’t-“

“We’d be happy to have you!” Zhu cut in, the crunch of his voice muffled somewhat by the coat he was hiding under while he tried to guide James’ adventure.

Ishah nodded in a motion that was practically a shiver, pulling the hood of his oversized purple sweatshirt up over his head and pulling the drawstrings to the point that James wasn’t sure how he expected to see. As James held the front security door open and went through the quick checkout procedure, he realized that when Ishah stuck one set of paws in his pockets and the other in his hoodie’s pouch, it was actually almost impossible to tell he wasn’t human. Though Moon fluttering around his head in a static position no matter what angle you looked at him from sorta ruined the illusion.

James also didn’t know how to have a conversation with a new ratroach, so he just led the way out of the parking lot, up the sloped hill to the main road, and down the sidewalk in the direction Zhu pointed. He figured Ishah would talk when he was ready, though the way that he flinched every time a car drove by, and used James as an obstacle when they passed a jogger walking his dog, made James wonder if maybe he should have just not pressed.

“Is the hood not uncomfortable on your antenna?” He asked after they’d made it to a place where the sidewalk wound through some trees and marginally well kept greenery, away from the road. Ishah just gave him a shrug. “Okay. I’m not walking too fast or anything?” He followed up, concerned that he was moving at a speed the shorter person would have a hard time keeping up with, but James just got another silent negative.

Letting the conversation lapse, James just followed Zhu’s instructions for the next mile of walking. Walking outside, he realized suddenly, felt dramatically different now that he could contrast it with walking similar distances in multiple dungeons. Though he was having a hard time turning off his alertness, there was still a kind of implicit agreement with the world that nothing was going to try to kill him. It was nice.

Less nice was realizing that he didn’t know where the hell they were. “Okay, I’ve driven this general area a lot in my life.” James started saying as he took a turn down a path that was just a line of barkchips leading past a wetland filled to the brim with cattails. “And I have no idea where we are. Where are we going?”

“Lunch!” Zhu assured him.

Not reassured, James let his stomach rumble as he decided to trust his friend for another two turns before he abandoned this. A little behind him, Ishah stayed silent.

“So, not to pry too much, but are you doing okay?” James asked Ishah as Zhu put them back on a sidewalk next to a road. Though it seemed like a residential street that got one car every six months, and there was an open grass field where there should have been houses. James wasn’t even sure how this had gone for so long without being bought and developed. “I mean, with the new body, the new… everything, I guess. You said you wanted to ask something, is there anything you need help with?”

Ishah swayed from side to side as he walked next to James, and the feeling he was giving off shifted from nervous and scared to something more comfortable. “Everything is new, but I like this.” He said. “I like that you let me change. I’m different and weird and maybe wrong, but it feels good.” He didn’t need any prodding from his infomorph friend to speak, though he did turn his hooded face away from James. “Thank you.”

“Of course. I’m glad you like it.” James said. “Also if you like it, then it’s probably not wrong, and it’s unlikely you’re weird given everyone else in the Order. I think Alex was talking about trying to develop some kind of organic sonar for herself? Though I might have dreamed that. My point is, you’re far from weird.”

“I did want to ask.” Ishah said after the conversation lapsed again. He went silent again, though James was getting used to how the ratroach seemed to wait for permission before continuing. “I wanted to ask what I’m supposed to do now.”

James grimaced, letting out a low “ooh.” Ishah turned concerned eyes on him, hood slipping back a little as they rounded a corner. “I might be the worst person to ask that to.” James admitted. “I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do now, you know?”

“Really?”

“Really.” He confirmed as he looked around at the old street they were on now, and the cluster of commercial buildings that lined the road ahead. One of which looked like a deli, and Zhu’s orange arrow of light was directing him straight toward. “I had no idea this was here…” James muttered before speaking up again. “Look, here’s a question back at you; what were you supposed to do before?”

Ishah tensed next to him, and Moon, the infomorph lighting up as all their fluttering eyes spooled out and glared at James, took over the conversation. “That is not something that should-“

“No, no.” Ishah’s voice chimed out an interruption, and the infomorph cut off in surprise. “I can… I was supposed to breed, and then die.” The ratroach’s high voice shook, but he still said the words that haunted his nightmares.

In the abstract, James had read the report on the Ishah’s condition when they’d rescued the ratroach a long time ago. But hearing it so bluntly, and so emotionally charged, was a world of difference. “I’m gonna guess, offhand, that you don’t want to do that.” He said softly.

“No.”

“But you don’t know what you do want.”

“No.”

“Well!” James arced his arms over his head and stretched as he led them across the street to their target deli. “Then I know what you’re supposed to do!”

Ishah hung back as James opened the door and waited for the ratroach to go in, heart now hammering as he considered that he might have to talk to a human that wasn’t from the Order, but still wanting to know what James had to say to him. Pulling his hood tight and hiding his paws, he crept past. “What do I do?” He whispered.

“Literally anything else.” James said simply. “Though right now, I’m gonna say maybe consider ordering a sandwich, because this place smells amazing. Though that might just be because Zhu dragged me on a two mile walk to get here.”

“You’re welcome.” The navigator smugly declared as he settled in to digest his own ‘meal’, and nap within James’ mind.

Ishah didn’t actually know if James’ advice applied, or was what he was looking for. But ten minutes of fidgeting and waiting later, and then a short walk back to an isolated park bench they’d passed on the way here to get away from the curious eyes of the skilled but rude man running the register, he had to admit that ordering a Reuben could easily serve as his purpose for the day.

They talked some more about it, and James tried to reassure the ratroach that he didn’t have to do anything. That the Order’s goodwill wasn’t conditional on anything but that he try his best. But still. No matter how short his lifetime was so far, it had been filled with cruel expectations and violent punishments for straying. And it might take some time to change.

But, as James pointed out, Ishah had changed. And just because the physical part was mostly done, didn’t mean that he had to stop there.

“Just think on what you want. Not what you think you’re supposed to want. Or supposed to do. We’re all figuring stuff out, it’s okay to take it slow.” James said, and noticed Ishah’s infomorph fluttering like they were taking notes.

“I want… to help.” The ratroach said, to no one at all, long after they’d returned to the Lair and went their separate ways. “I want to be like them, for someone else, because… because I don’t know.”

“James didn’t say we needed to know why you wanted anything.” Moon told him happily as they lay in the nest of pillows Ishah preferred to a bed.

That was true. And a comforting thought as the reforged ratroach drifted off to sleep.

_____

“Part three!” Sarah’s tone had lost none of its expressive glee since the last recorded podcast episode. “Welcome back! Sometimes people start at part three of a series, so just for you, an explanation!”

“Do they really?” Simon interrupted.

Sarah made an exaggerated shushing noise. She’d gotten about halfway to knowing how to do it without it sounding awful on the recording. “A series of interviews exploring the transhuman developments of some of our friends! Today, Simon!”

Simon smiled more these days than he had for a while, but Sarah knew he was still working through some stuff. So she appreciated him being here, and had told him so up front, and she appreciated it too when he opened with “Happy to be here. I’m actually cisgender, though I am an ally. Trans rights.”

“So! We can… wait, no. That’s not what that means.”

“Oh?” Simon played dumb, infusing a single syllable with quite a lot of playfulness. “Are you sure?”

Sarah looked down at her notes, then back at Simon’s false obliviousness. “Yes, you himbo impersonator.” She accused him. “Though a direct definition is a good idea, so thank you! Transhumanism is the use of technology to create new ways of thinking and living. New, and totally valid, forms of what it means to be a person.”

“I have two more complaints with this word.” Simon said.

“You know I’m supposed to ask you questions, right? That’s what interviews are!”

Proceeding undeterred, Simon just ignored that for now. “We don’t have a census or anything, but the Order has-“

“I can interrupt too!” Sarah cut him off. “We do have a census kind of! And about a third of the Order is nonhuman, mostly camraconda. We’re not counting the chanters yet but when we do it’ll be closer to half.”

“…okay, well then you already know what my complaint is.” Simon said. “It should be trans…person? Not transhuman. Also that word sort of implies we’re trying to escape humanity or something, but really we’re just changing. Also magic.”

“…what about magic?” Sarah asked after giving him a moment to know if that was all he had to say.

Simon tapped his skulljack. “Magic.” He said. “Er, sorry, radio, right. Skulljacks are magic. Shaper substance is magic. Everything we use to shortcut into the fun stuff is magic, not technology.”

Sarah nodded, and roped control of the interview back to her side. “So you’re not super keen on that Clarke quote about sufficiently advanced technology?”

“Not really. Because the magic we get from dungeons tends to sort of be really dumb when analyzed? It still does stuff that can be measured down to a really tiny level and I’m okay with the basic respect for physics or whatever. But there’s a big skip in cause and effect, even with something as simple as a skill orb.” Simon leaned forward unconsciously as he got into his response. “So when you say transhumanism, there’s two problems. The big one is excluding all the ratroaches who’ve experienced taking control of their own bodies, and the slightly less big one is excluding them but because it was magic and not technology that did it. We don’t really get shaper substance. We know what it does but we probably won’t ever know why. But we use it anyway. And we should make sure our words aren’t… I dunno… gatekeepy?”

“I hadn’t thought of that.” Sarah admitted solemnly. “And you’re right! We should be for everyone, and that word isn’t very good. Would you believe I stole it from James?”

“Yes.”

Sarah pursed her lips and ducked her head. “Well I sort of did.” She admitted. “So, what would you recommend?”

“For…?”

“For a better term!”

Simon stared at her like a deer in the headlights. “Why would you put me on the spot like that?”

“People think it’s part of my charm. Okay, we’ll sort that out later, want to move on to the big questions? Tell us a bit about yourself?”

“Please!” Simon’s tension shifted to a different form of anxiety. He and Sarah had spoken before about how he wanted to describe himself, and also even if he wanted to. He settled on yes, because he felt like it was important, but his circumstances were still painful in a lot of ways. He’d grown, learned about himself, become something he hadn’t expected, and all of that was great, but he still had a hard time getting the words to start.

Sarah didn’t push him. They’d leave a short pause in the recording, but he could take all the time he needed.

“Okay.” Simon said. “My condition goes back a ways. I’ve been with the Order since before we called it that. James and team pulled me out of Officium Mundi, out of a skulljack slave network, and saved my life. Not just mine, but a few other people too, who I ended up being kinda close with.” Simon took a breath as he recounted the story. “One of them, who was also named James so I’m sorry if this gets confusing, the two of us got to be really close afterward. Not romantically, exactly, but it got to the point that we were using the skulljacks to connect basically twenty four seven.”

“So a bit like Marlea?” Sarah asked.

“Not really. Not exactly. We were still individuals, we were just sharing everything. I think that’s different than her thing, I dunno.” Simon shrugged, gave a small laugh. “It was comforting. You’d think we’d hate it after being trapped with our brains plugged in for so long. I know a lot of the other survivors do; a lot of people are fucking terrified of the skulljacks, and I get that. But for us, it just felt supportive to have someone who you knew understood. Just a little less lonely, I guess.”

Sarah nodded. “I understand, cause I’m one of those terrified people.” She said with total earnest calm. “I’m still learning to overcome it. Not gonna make this about me, though. Go on, please.”

“Well, that was kinda it for a while. Things were developing, we were learning to live in our weird way, it was all going okay. Then we got hit with the Status Quo retaliatory strike. And my James was the first person they shot.” Simon’s voice twisted into a strangled squeak at the end, but he waved off Sarah’s questioning look about if the should stop, and kept going. “I’m not gonna go into details. Because I don’t want to. But he died.” Simon paused for effect. “Mostly.”

“You were connected at the time.” Sarah stated, gently prompting.

“We were. And in a way, we still are. I caught as much of him as I could. There’s a sort of modern instinct to think of our bodies as hardware and our thoughts as software, and that’s fine I guess, but you know, if you have two hard drives in the same computer and you hit one with a hammer, it doesn’t save all the files on it. So I tried to make a backup, as fast as I could, while he was dying.” Simon snorted. “It sort of worked!”

“Sort of sounds better than not at all?” Sarah asked. “Especially for someone who had the option.”

“Well, I didn’t actually get a chance to ask first.” Simon said. “Also, afterward, it wasn’t like I had him in my head as a ghost or anything. I had his memories, emotions, instincts, favorite food and least favorite movie, crushes, whatever. Not all of it, but a lot. But a brain can only be one person at a time, as far as I can figure out. So it’s less like I’m two people in one body, and more like I’m… like I’m one person, who ate another mind, and merged it with my own.”

Sarah did her best to not let the sadness show in her eyes. “So, who are you?” She asked. “If that’s a valid question, even! Are you Simon, or James, or both, or something new?”

“Closer to both, but I’m still Simon.” He said with a sudden laugh. “I dunno if you knew my James very well, but he liked simplicity. And so, now I like simplicity. And this seemed easiest.”

“How does it feel? Is it ever too much?”

“It’s just me at this point. It used to be overwhelming, but I… I dunno, is it dumb to say I went through a deeply personal and semi-spiritual vision quest, came to terms with what we’d become, and accepted change as inevitable? Can I just say that?” Simon asked, like he was reaching for validation.

If anyone was going to give him that validation, it was Sarah. And she had no problem dispensing it. “Of course you can say that. Is it true?”

“Mostly!”

“So, did you meet him in a dream or something?”

“…yes. How did you know?” Simon gave her a suspicious look.

Sarah let out a peal of happy laughter that somehow put him at ease despite the suddenness of the laugh. “Because that’s how we solve problems around here! I can’t believe I nailed that! Wait, no, cut that part from the final edit, maintain my aura of mystique!” She tried to get her assistant’s attention, and was summarily ignored. “So what’s life feel like for you now? Has your day to day changed much?”

“What, like, tactically?” Simon asked, confused.

Sarah eyed him to see if he was playing dumb. “No no, personally. Does it make anything easier or harder, does it change how you see certain things, that sort of stuff.”

“It made me better at baseball. Also I like butts now?” Simon raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t used to. I didn’t actually care, but now I care. Actually there’s a bunch of stuff I care about now that I didn’t really register before. But I didn’t lose anything, that’s the weird part. It’s like if you put two people in a room and they both got to yell about their niche hobbies and then they both got super into the other person’s niche hobby, except it’s just me yelling at myself. Does that make sense?”

“Not yet, give me a second to process it.” Sarah drummed her fingers on her forehead. “Okay! Kind of! Last question for you, and it’s a heavy one. Ready?”

“I just spent a week in an endless library getting yelled at by belligerent crows and interrogated on my personal life by the most enthusiastic camraconda in the Order. I’m prepared for anything.”

Sarah gave him a worried line of a smile. “Do you regret it?”

Simon sucked in a short breath, though as soon as he realized that he regretted saying he was prepared, he realized something else, too. “I regret that the person I was closest to in the whole world died.” He said. “I regret that he didn’t get the chance to teach me about baseball and asses the old fashioned way. But saving as much of him as I could? Do I regret that?” He smiled serenely, even as he found hot tears dripping down his cheeks. “Never.”

Reaching across the recording table and settling a hand over his, Sarah took a moment to make sure her own voice was steady before she finished up her own point. “That’s really sweet.” She said in a peaceful murmur. “Thanks for coming on today Simon. And thanks to everyone for listening. This has been part three of our series. Join us for the next one, where we’ll be continuing to look into new ways of living as we adapt to our magic and technology, and where we try to find a better word for that.”

_____

“Hey, you got a minute?” El’s voice got James to look up from what he was reviewing as she walked into his office and sat down without waiting for an answer.

James and Rufus both just observed her silently as she kicked the extra chair into position so she could prop her feet up on it, the steel toed boots that covered most of her shins getting bits of barkdust and grass on the office furniture. “I do…” James admitted. Especially since there was no longer a podcast playing; El had annoyingly good timing. “Get your feet off my chair.” He said, and then got prodded by one of Rufus’ legs. “Our chair.” James corrected without hesitation.

“I’ll clean it up before I go.” El said while refusing to actually move. “So I’ve actually got a few things. I’ve been saving up, because you’re never here.”

“You literally have my personal number. You know where I live.” James pointed out. “Just send me a message on the Order’s discussion server. Send an email.”

“Ew, no.” El’s reaction was visceral distaste at the idea of most forms of communication. Which, while James understood, he found exhausting to be on the receiving end of. Was this what he did to other people when he refused to make phone calls? He didn’t want to know. “Anyway, I got a tip you were actually at your desk today.”

“Yeah, one of the meetings Karen scheduled me for could not, in fact, just be a .mem.” James said as he reflexively accepted a sheet of printer paper from Rufus and moved it to his incoming stack. “Anyway, what’s up? Start with the least important thing.”

El stopped trying to retie her hair, and let the whole mess drop around her shoulders as she crossed her arms at him. “I can’t fuckin’ do that, dude, and you know it. I don’t know how to rank things around here. Last time I thought something wasn’t important it was the end of the world. Though! That’s a good transition to me saying I think you sort of roundabout caused that end of the world!”

James and Rufus both stopped pretending they were going to get any more work done, and shared an exhausted look. “…explain.” James said after a long sigh.

“So, for the youth group, the older age bracket one, we’re doing a thing on learning how to research this month.” El started to explain by going on a wild tangent. “And some of them are working on a timeline of the Order.”

“Neat? Neat!” James actually thought that sounded like a great idea because he didn’t remember shit about his own personal timeline, and was still pretty sure he had only been a dungeon delver for about three months. A patently false statement, but a feeling he couldn’t completely shake. “What went wrong?”

El narrowed her eyes at him before she realized something. “God, it’s always things going wrong with you, isn’t it? You never just have stuff happen, stuff only ever explodes around you.”

“Hey…”

“Whatever. So, the timing on this is sorta suspect, but I wanna see if you think this lines up, okay?” El looked at him like she was waiting for confirmation that James was paying attention, before she continued. “So in order… that’s not a pun, Rufus stop stapler-giggling… we attack Status Quo. Status Quo attacks back. We lose some people, including an infomorph that we can’t remember.”

“That… that probably happened, yes.” James forced himself to sit straighter, pushing his shoulders down against the instinct to tense up and curl into a ball at the painful memory. “And I’m almost certain that what’s left of them became-“

“Hidden?” El interrupted. “Yeah. So that happens. No idea why, but an eleven year old girl ends up with a fragment of the nuclear bomb of informorphs living as her younger sister. Then Ava’s mom takes them to visit family on a road trip. Then, I arrive back at my hometown, about a week after they stop there.”

“Okay, yeah. I follow so far.” James was curious where this was going.

El made a spiraling motion with her hands. “Rewind slightly! Between them arriving, and me arriving, the Horizonist cult upped their activities. When you were poking your nose into things, you found it weird that they’d bought so much of the town, but they really started to accelerate their acquisitions almost the day that Ava and Hidden got there. Jump forward, and the dungeon is trying to siren call them into it, while the Horizonists are hunting them.”

“Then Anesh and I arrive, at your request, I was there for this part.” James nodded. “And while I did get hit in the head again that time, I remember that much. They were after Ava for the mechanic’s whole ritual sacrifice thing. And Hidden was calling out to anyone who they had a link to, which happened to be us.”

“Yeah. They were.” El kicked her feet off the chair and spun to stand and start pacing the room. “They were after Ava. Specifically. And you know what I was today years old when I learned? That the mechanic needed someone who was ‘touched by the unseen’ to finish his stupid creepy ritual murder shit.”

“Ah.” James got it. “So, whoever our friend was, whose remnant ended up growing into Hidden, died because of our fight with Status Quo. And then created the conditions to kick off the mechanic and his cult’s plans.”

“Pretty much.” El said, toying with one of the patches on her shirt. “Just kinda thought you should know. I dunno if it’s important.”

James took a deep breath. He didn’t even know if it was. It didn’t seem super relevant to anything right now, but he could never be sure about shit like this. He was surprised to find that it didn’t actually make him feel any worse; both times now, he found that the decision to throw down with Status Quo had been morally correct. The fact that one of the casualties had caused this… well, even that wasn’t true, was it? It didn’t cause anything, it just created the circumstances where a bitter old asshole put a target on his victim. James was pretty sure that if Ava, or someone like her, hadn’t shown up in time, the mechanic would have just done a casual mass murder just out of spite.

He jolted as Rufus patted him on the arm, the growing stapler misunderstanding his quiet contemplation. “Heh. Thanks buddy.” James said, petting gently along Rufus’s hull. “Anyway, nah, not important now. We should maybe consider telling Ava before any rumors get around, make it clear that nothing is her fault.”

“Shit, good point.” El said, dropping back into the chair. “Anyway, second thing, dungeon stuff?”

“…what about it?” James asked.

“Are you doing it?”

“…yes? Yes. There’s an expedition starting in two days. You are way too late to get on the roster.” James told her bluntly. “Also it’s not for Route Horizon, so I don’t even think you’d want to. But I’ll save you some magic or something?” He offered.

El rolled her eyes at him. “Hey, don’t look at me, I don’t wanna go. But Momo’s on this one, and I wanna make sure you’re not gonna get my girfend killed.”

“Girfend?” James tried not to smirk at the mumbled word.

El flipped him off, face slowly turning bright red. “It’s fuckin’ hard to say, okay?!” She badly defended herself. “I like this chick and don’t want her to die and she already got shot and I know that sort of thing stacks up! So, like… just tell me it’s gonna be okay, right?”

“Hey. El.” James slapped his hands onto the spread of documents on his desk. “It’s gonna be fine. No one died on the last expedition, I’ll keep Momers from doing anything stup- I’ll keep her from doing anything too stupid.”

“That’s weirdly reassuring.”

“I hear that a lot. Anything else before Rufus and I go back to reading resumes for teachers?” James asked.

The girl got a distant look, like she was trying to remember something, before snapping her ink covered fingers. “Right! Research is making a program to find interesting people with high potential so we can recruit them.” El said. “Something from the emerald chips. They’ve got a few versions in the works.”

James’ felt his face drop in a heartbeat, and felt as well as saw as El reacted to his sudden angry expression. “Go tell them to stop doing that, right now.” He stated.

“Sure.” She said, placatingly serious. “Do I get to know why?”

“The whole point of this, of the Order, of our ideology, is that anyone can be better. If you take away fear of poverty, fear of violence, and fear of future instability, and replace it with strong community and a little magic, anyone can be anything. Everyone has a chance to shine, and to figure out who and what they want to be.” James hissed out a breath as he opened up a balled fist into a clawed hand. “That shit? That thing they’re doing? That’s the opposite. That’s saying you have to be special to come play in our yard. Fuck that. Go tell them to stop. If they really want to find people we should recruit, get them to make a program that finds us kids that have trouble in school, single parents that are overwhelmed, and climate refugees.” James said.

El stood up again and dusted off the chair she’d gotten barkdust on, accomplishing absolutely nothing but getting the bits of barkdust more stuck in the cushion. “You know, I think you’re wrong about about maybe half the shit you say.” El said.

“Thanks…?”

“But I’m with you on this. It felt shitty as soon as they said it, I just wanted to know why.”

“Oh. Uh. Sorry, I wasn’t trying to be angry at you.” James apologized.

El shrugged. “No worries. You wanna maybe email them or something, tell them yourself?”

“I hate email.” James said. “But thanks for letting me know. And yeah, I promise to keep Momo safe, don’t worry.” He looked down at the stapler next to him that was gesturing in a complex pattern of pen leg motions. “Rufus also promises.”

“Rufus is going, and I’m not?” El squinted. “Am I the boring one?”

“You’re the one who didn’t want to be on delves or in fights.” James said. “And until you tell me otherwise, I’m gonna respect the shit out of that choice.”

“…you’re a fucking weird cult leader, man.” El told him as she left his office.

James grumbled to Rufus about that for the next twenty minutes, until the stapler finally got fed up with them not getting any work done and just started poking James with every off topic complaint he made.