ataraxion | oo3. text.

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oo3. text.

Good evening, Tranquility. I have two queries, unrelated. With regards to the science department, I'd like to be directed towards any appointed leaders in this structure, as I have some general questions that might save me a bit of reading. Both in regards to whether I can be of assistance, and what has happened previously. I refer, of course, to the laboratories. My second question pertains to the red-worded Smiley character. I think it wants this Charlotte person harmed, as opposed to simply found. As much as I too find her posting rather concerning, I'm moved to wonder what it could possibly gain from her being stopped. Or silenced. I realise neither of those possess a single question mark. You'll have to humour me. You're welcome to use the picture/sound communications if that's easier. Cheers, Prof. Charles Xavier Addendum: A third question, for those with technological and/or magic skill. Apropos of nothing, is there a means of securing a posting against one individual?

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Learning a thing or two about encryptions wouldn't do me any harm, even so. Perhaps I'll take you up on it when I'm particularly desperate for something to do.

As for Smiley, I'm not sure I could keep up. But I found the encouragement towards siccing scared, angry kidnapped passengers after this woman fairly suspect.

How much do you trust it?

I can write you the code if you'd rather just slip it in where you need it.

[ He's thinking of Erik. ]

I don't trust it at all. I know it's up to something, that it has motivations of it's own, and that it wants us to do its bidding almost as much as it supposedly wants to warn us of our impending doom. It's like a mirage drawing you deeper into the desert with tastes of salvation. It'll save you, but it wants its price.

I'd appreciate that, thank you.

[ And Nathan would be right. Not that domestic sock talk was a state of emergency, but god knows it could be handy. ]

Right.

[ He pauses. Discomforted. ]

It's what sealed the doors and opened them again, yes?

We only know for sure it opened the doors. I'm actually of the belief that the doors closed because of a time-space distortion of some kind, like...a temporal weather front exerting pressure outward, and if what it says about 'clearing the way' is true, then it's capable of merely manipulating that distortion somehow.

Then again it could just be magic, like Caffrey said.

[ He doesn't actually remotely believe it. ]

I think this is the moment it's been preparing us for. Whatever happens next--it changes everything.

I think to call it magic or not magic is an oversimplification of the situation, Senator. And I'm not convinced that the doors closing as they did wasn't part of a conscious, malicious decision, just as they opened.

[ There is a briskness to his tone. It's still all very recent. ]

What transpired within it-- yes, a distortion. A concentrated, entropic event, as seen throughout the ship. I can believe that Smiley could create such an environment, and that it did.

[ He mellows out a little by the end of this, so that his inquiry is ponderous, gentle; ] What sort of changes?

You can believe it if you wish; I think it merely took advantage of it, as it has all along. Took advantage of us dying. Took advantage of our suspicion of Ward and Resnik. This isn't our first rodeo. And believe me, magic sounds like just as much bullshit to me, but ask around enough here and you'll find people who can perform it--who can make teacups dance and change themselves into dogs and cats and cockroaches and God only knows what else. I've been warned about limiting my perspective before, that's all I'm saying, and given that you've seen how limited I can allow my perspective to be, I trust you understand my reservations.

[ It's just...very complicated. The distortions in communication, aged like Gallagher's out of time audio clips, the woman in Engineering who believed that a scant month had passed since the first jump, and that door, too, closed from one side while space and time distorted within. The skeletons of those long dead.

Suffice is to say that he responds to briskness with briskness, and then his tone drops and he sounds rattled and apologetic: ]

I'm sorry. There's...a lot bouncing around in my head. [ And repeated attempts at rendering him mad had brought the barriers down, loosened his usual restraint. ] Changes? Yes, there's...things are about to change. Everything hinges on how we handle this event, on whether she succeeds or fails. She's right to suspect the Jump drives of being involved somehow; it could have caused these problems just by turning on, or else the present destruction may be responsible for our predicament. It's a blind gambit.

[ Charles lets Nathan speak -- somewhere, he is listed back as he listens, watching the ceiling. This whole first part, he never responds to. He could clarify his position on the matter, or argue the point, but there are more pressing debates to be had.

Except he isn't debating, he is listening. Nathan's apology is allowed to swim on by, too, no interruption. ]

Then let us employ Occam's Razor. We don't trust Smiley. Smiley has vested interest in the girl being stopped, perhaps killed. The things that she does, the things that she knows, are either a danger to it or an advantage to us.

I fear for her, I really do.

Occam's Razor - the simplest truth - would be that Smiley is just doing what it always has: telling us how not to die. It holds a great deal of stock in our survival. It enjoys watching us. 'I can't wait to see what you'll do next.' We already proved that we're no use to it dead.

[ But he concedes, inclining his head. ]

But I do believe that she's in danger - a great deal of it - both from us, and from others. This won't end well for her. Like it or not, we can't protect her from something which has demonstrated just how capable it is of manipulating the ship around us.

I know.

[ Which is probably why he is sitting here. In his room. Dicking around on the network. Vague contempt for his own knowing is an edge in his tone. ]

I can put the question out there, anyway. Christ knows if anyone'll consider it. And as for Smiley, it may be telling us how not to die, but stands to reason it doesn't want us to leave, either.

Which brings us right back to make or break; fix it, or deliberately pull the whole thing apart just to spite it, because it's quite possible that all it wants is to reset the clock on all of us, send us back to the beginning, reset the board, and play again.

[ He sounds positively grim. ]

I think I could use a drink. And I'm starting to see why even if it kills us has become a necessary qualifier in most endeavours.

[ There's a low exhale of a sigh on Nathan's end. ]

That's just the version where this is a real ship. Or, in other words: Try two years of it.

A friend of mine left half a bottle with me last week, I don't suppose you'd be interested in sharing it once this is over? Since home, I've made it a habit never to drink alone.

More than happy to save you from yourself, Senator.

Assuming we survive this, I'll hold you to it, Professor.

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