A follow up on the rabbit-hole day, except that this one is really about surgery
Frvi, Orat
I pulled this one out of the bottom of a stack. It's old enough now that it's separate, divorced from my now-here-self enough to share without making (as) vulnerable. Enjoy.
It was dated eight years earlier than my previous letter. Hope you get it... now. I mean when else are you going to be reading this but when you get it? But I guess that I hope that your "now" is, for the "now" of me writing this, soon.
Your crechemate,
- Kazt
The only person you trust more than the one who chooses to sleep beside you is the one that you choose to sleep beside.
- For my warm one,
Kasha Tsizan
For me, falling asleep on a train or zepplin is a mild religious experience. Not an ecstatic one, just one that confirms my faith. You make your plans, go to sleep. You wake up, and you're somewhere else. Everything is still turning. The Made Way moves without you. That's why it's The Made Way after all. And that is why, and how we make it.
But I am scared.
Three years there. Four years on-site. Three years back. I find it hard to believe that I'll actually spend more time getting there and back than I'll spend on-site. I find it harder to believe that I (hope I) won't be aware of time passing, or the cold, or the box. I find it hardest to believe that I'm supposed to be okay with this.
I remember talking to Tam; Tam-the-Terran; after his turn on Artemis. That's why he's called Tam-the-Terran now. Thawing out groggy to find out that the ship has left and that he didn't recognize the constellations with no more explanation than -
"Date is twenty months over estimate. Original destination too hot. Your skills (probably) needed here. Ship outbound anyway. Next ship through in half a year - message carrier only. Next return cargo/cryonaut pickup in two years. Apologies for inconvenience. Long live the Union."
- kinda broke his (self-described "chirpy") faith in the Union. About fesking time too. He says that it's a good thing he was thawed out amidst a bunch of xenophobic caste-ridden sexless clones or he might never have got the hint.
That phenonemon, also known as "redirection" scares me. Had he been conscious, had he had control, he could have swapped over to another ship and been dropped off on a site both more needed of his talents and closer to home.
Of course, had he been conscious, he'd have spent several years looking at the inside of an Aijateh, with only seven-to-fourteen staffies to keep him company. Not his idea of fun.
Not like the Union will let you do it anyway. Probably for the best?
And he could have stayed home too. But he'd rather be awake on a trip than at home.
Strangely, the idea of cold-dreams scare me. There's some limited synaptic activity on the way in and out of cryo, but many voyagers report long and strange dreams. We thought that it was just anxiety manifesting in a back-built narrative; they only dreamed that they'd been dreaming for three years. But some of our most skilled dreamists have taken the voyage under, and co-suggest confirming that this is likely a-thing-that-can-be.
The character of these dreams is said to be different. A falling apart, and coming back together. And in-between they say that time is different even than usual dream time. Aye, you could hone your sight, and learn to sculpt, but what if it collapses on you? What if you have a nightmare? Or if I am stuck in the repetitive dream of taking and turning boxes from my year in the stores?
Could you dream for three years? Live your life in sleep? Would that would mean being aware without control, or would I learn quickly?
Of course much worse things happen to yoyagers than cold-dreams or redirections. There are delays. Misfilings. Accidents. Malfunctions. Bad reactions. Slavers. And the Fortean shit is equal parts fascinating and terrifying.
You could wake up dead, or broken, or worse, or not wake up at all. And the cause of things would be out of your control. And it's consequences might linger, come back to hurt you later, or never go away.
Of course most of these things don't happen much, or we wouldn't use cryo, but the possibility is there.
(Am I in control when I'm awake?)
Am I expected to just fall back into the hands of some healther? To be frozen, boxed, shipped, sorted, unloaded and thawed unpacked by some other healther there!?
Yes. Yes I am.
Where is the routine-of-trust? To pass hold of my mind and my body and my health to someone I've met once!? And then to leave again, to not see them again, and so as to free them from their bonds-of-trust and the proper shadow of clan feuds? Prsh!
I'm angry at myself. I am Luthani, and invested in it. And "Luthani" means "self-planned-culture." Aren't we supposed to trust in The Made Way? That the world, once turning, will turn without us?
Am I more annoyed at myself for not having faith, or at The-Made-Way-as-is for falling short of what I'd thought? Or is it that I had such faith that bothers me?
I ask myself, "If it turned out poorly, would it still be worth the trip?"
I cannot speak as that future self, but, I can guess. And "yes, I think so."
Am I actually thinking of going through with this?
Since I've booked passage and am easing into a fifteen-turn chemically/driven chelation of protectant-interferants from my blood, I suppose that the answer is "yes."
Box me up, ship me off, and don't forget to thaw me,
- Kazt
I pulled this one out of the bottom of a stack. It's old enough now that it's separate, divorced from my now-here-self enough to share without making (as) vulnerable. Enjoy.
It was dated eight years earlier than my previous letter. Hope you get it... now. I mean when else are you going to be reading this but when you get it? But I guess that I hope that your "now" is, for the "now" of me writing this, soon.
Your crechemate,
- Kazt
The only person you trust more than the one who chooses to sleep beside you is the one that you choose to sleep beside.
- For my warm one,
Kasha Tsizan
For me, falling asleep on a train or zepplin is a mild religious experience. Not an ecstatic one, just one that confirms my faith. You make your plans, go to sleep. You wake up, and you're somewhere else. Everything is still turning. The Made Way moves without you. That's why it's The Made Way after all. And that is why, and how we make it.
But I am scared.
Three years there. Four years on-site. Three years back. I find it hard to believe that I'll actually spend more time getting there and back than I'll spend on-site. I find it harder to believe that I (hope I) won't be aware of time passing, or the cold, or the box. I find it hardest to believe that I'm supposed to be okay with this.
I remember talking to Tam; Tam-the-Terran; after his turn on Artemis. That's why he's called Tam-the-Terran now. Thawing out groggy to find out that the ship has left and that he didn't recognize the constellations with no more explanation than -
"Date is twenty months over estimate. Original destination too hot. Your skills (probably) needed here. Ship outbound anyway. Next ship through in half a year - message carrier only. Next return cargo/cryonaut pickup in two years. Apologies for inconvenience. Long live the Union."
- kinda broke his (self-described "chirpy") faith in the Union. About fesking time too. He says that it's a good thing he was thawed out amidst a bunch of xenophobic caste-ridden sexless clones or he might never have got the hint.
That phenonemon, also known as "redirection" scares me. Had he been conscious, had he had control, he could have swapped over to another ship and been dropped off on a site both more needed of his talents and closer to home.
Of course, had he been conscious, he'd have spent several years looking at the inside of an Aijateh, with only seven-to-fourteen staffies to keep him company. Not his idea of fun.
Not like the Union will let you do it anyway. Probably for the best?
And he could have stayed home too. But he'd rather be awake on a trip than at home.
Strangely, the idea of cold-dreams scare me. There's some limited synaptic activity on the way in and out of cryo, but many voyagers report long and strange dreams. We thought that it was just anxiety manifesting in a back-built narrative; they only dreamed that they'd been dreaming for three years. But some of our most skilled dreamists have taken the voyage under, and co-suggest confirming that this is likely a-thing-that-can-be.
The character of these dreams is said to be different. A falling apart, and coming back together. And in-between they say that time is different even than usual dream time. Aye, you could hone your sight, and learn to sculpt, but what if it collapses on you? What if you have a nightmare? Or if I am stuck in the repetitive dream of taking and turning boxes from my year in the stores?
Could you dream for three years? Live your life in sleep? Would that would mean being aware without control, or would I learn quickly?
Of course much worse things happen to yoyagers than cold-dreams or redirections. There are delays. Misfilings. Accidents. Malfunctions. Bad reactions. Slavers. And the Fortean shit is equal parts fascinating and terrifying.
You could wake up dead, or broken, or worse, or not wake up at all. And the cause of things would be out of your control. And it's consequences might linger, come back to hurt you later, or never go away.
Of course most of these things don't happen much, or we wouldn't use cryo, but the possibility is there.
(Am I in control when I'm awake?)
Am I expected to just fall back into the hands of some healther? To be frozen, boxed, shipped, sorted, unloaded and thawed unpacked by some other healther there!?
Yes. Yes I am.
Where is the routine-of-trust? To pass hold of my mind and my body and my health to someone I've met once!? And then to leave again, to not see them again, and so as to free them from their bonds-of-trust and the proper shadow of clan feuds? Prsh!
I'm angry at myself. I am Luthani, and invested in it. And "Luthani" means "self-planned-culture." Aren't we supposed to trust in The Made Way? That the world, once turning, will turn without us?
Am I more annoyed at myself for not having faith, or at The-Made-Way-as-is for falling short of what I'd thought? Or is it that I had such faith that bothers me?
I ask myself, "If it turned out poorly, would it still be worth the trip?"
I cannot speak as that future self, but, I can guess. And "yes, I think so."
Am I actually thinking of going through with this?
Since I've booked passage and am easing into a fifteen-turn chemically/driven chelation of protectant-interferants from my blood, I suppose that the answer is "yes."
Box me up, ship me off, and don't forget to thaw me,
- Kazt