Microstory 681: A Lost Man Made to Remember

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Few illnesses in the modern day are incurable. Fate—or The Darkness, if you prefer—seemed to think that this was an unfortunate condition, and so it came up with an entirely new class of medical issues. We call them quantum diseases, and they only inflict people who have, to varying degrees, merged themselves with technology. Any standard human can be treated to near a hundred percent health using medical techniques that we’ve had for centuries. It would be hard to find out which was the last disease medical science has cured. We keep encountering new ones, like when we travel to new worlds, but we even make quick work of those. Quantum diseases are different, however, in that they are the blending of biological pathogens, and computer viruses. There is treatment for some of these conditions, but not many have been cured, because no machine built yet is capable of calculating curative scenarios. Even if such technology did exist, the data necessary to rebuild whatever has been lost from any given disease may be long gone. One man, named Meliton Rete recently experienced an extremely rare disorder called episodic quantum amnesia, also known as EQUA. Doctors first discovered EQUA two decades ago when the first case presented itself on a transhuman-run asteroid orbiting Arithmi called Feulon, after its founding family. Data is often corrupted when attempting to transfer a subject’s consciousness into some other substrate, which is something often done on Feulon. Most of the time, this data can be recovered, and the process can be restarted. In other cases, there is not so much a corruption as the data simply disappears without a trace. Now, this sort of thing happens in the natural world all the time. Particles blink in and out of existence periodically, and we still don’t really know how, or why. Since consciousness transference is only practical using quantum computers, however, this phenomenon can sometimes have an effect on consciousness uploading, which is just one danger of such practices. Meliton Rete was faced with this truth while trying to upgrade to a new body. He was left the shell of a man, with no memory of who he was, or what he had been through. Like most quantum diseases, there is no cure for EQUA, because no one knows where the information disappears to. Even if its path could somehow be found, it will have by then lost its cohesion, and become randomly spread across spacetime. As a miracle, nonetheless, this is what happened, on its own. As if by magnets, Meliton’s memories suddenly returned to his original substrate, which he had been stuck with in a care facility for the last several years. He could remember everything that ever happened to him, with even greater accuracy than he ever had before. No one knows how the memories came back to him, or where they had been this whole time. Some believe they were never really gone, but instead skipped through the timestream, returning to their origin as if they had never left. With these memories came his ideas and notions, some of which would help us find the best ways of achieving the next taikon in the list.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: April 8, 2024

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Things looked quite familiar after Arcadia apported them back to Earth in the past. She sent them off rather late in the day, for a reason they did not yet know. They weren’t given any warning that it was coming, and weren’t even standing in a group when it happened. They looked around, eventually coming across one of those old newspaper stands. It was April 8, 2024 in Makanda, Illinois. There were just a ton of people walking around, an especially large number of people for how small the town appeared to be. A man was stopping people, trying to sell them something, and a few people were actually buying.

“I never experienced this year,” Mateo noted.

“Oh, that’s right,” Leona said. “That was when you went far into the future. Yeah, you gave us quite a scare. Worst two years of my life, waiting for you.”

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Mateo said. “I’m here now!”

“Great.”

The salesman approached them. “You guys have your glasses?” he asked.

“What glasses?” Serif asked.

“Your eclipse glasses,” he clarified. “I got as many as you need. Five bucks...four each if everyone in your party wants one.”

They all looked to Leona, who nodded. “That’s a good deal.”

“Does anyone have human money?” Darko joked.

“Wait, where’s Lincoln?” Serif asked. They hadn’t noticed him missing until now.

“No, just four bucks, remember?” the man said, not understanding, and a little nervous about the human money joke.

“He’s taking care of Dar’cy,” Marcy told them. “Arcadia wanted it this way, I don’t know why.” She took out a twenty dollar bill and handed it to the man, who handed her five pairs of glasses.

“I see.”

“Wait,” Leona ordered as the man was trying to walk off and find new customers. “I need to test them first.” Ever the thorough one, she tested each of the pair of glasses, looking up at the sun to make sure they wouldn’t make them go blind. “All right, you’re good,” she said once she was done. The man was happy to be done with them.

“I don’t know why we did that,” Darko said. “She didn’t bring us here to watch whatever eclipse this is. We’re here to help someone.”

“If it can make you go blind, maybe we’re supposed to stop that from happening to someone important.” Mateo suggested.

“Anyone remember a celebrity who went blind in 2024?” Darko asked.

“Don’t look at me,” Serif said. “I didn’t exist.”

“What?”

Leona was looking at Mario’s special watch. “One minute to totality.”

“Do celestial events have any effect on time travelers?” Marcy asked. She then had to ignore a passerby who had heard what she said.

“I don’t think so,” Darko said.

“That’s not possible,” Leona pointed out. “Maybe a solar flare could do something, maybe.”

“Hey, you never know,” Darko returned. “We still don’t understand why citrus explodes when exposed to the timestream.”

“Okay, everybody look around,” Mateo stepped in. “Look for a horse that’s about to kick someone in the head, or a disease that all the children have.”

They spread out a little bit, but walked in the same general direction, looking for anything suspicious, stopping only to witness the eclipse for a few minutes. It held his interest for a few seconds before Mateo got bored with it. He found it more compelling to watch everyone in town staring at the sky with their weird glasses, all at once, like the most unsettling flash mob flash ever. One woman had no interest in it either. She was weaving through the crowd, holding a baby, and making sure that no one was following her. He was going to alert the rest of the group, but they were too fascinated by a moon, so he just decided to investigate himself. Presumably just as bored, Darko noticed this and came along.

The woman ducked into an alley with such earnest that they could now hear her heavy, fearful breaths. As Mateo and Darko were about to turn the corner, they noticed a man coming from the opposite direction, about to do the same.

He stopped when he saw them. “Who the hell are you?” he asked in a tone.

“I don’t know,” Mateo said.

“What, you have amnesia?”

“And if I do?”

He shook it off, because he didn’t really care. “Catalina!” he called up to the woman.

She turned around at the sound of her name, which instantly doubled her fear. She held her baby closer to her chest, trying to look for a way out.

“Looks like she don’t wanna see you,” Darko told him.

“Looks like it’s none of your business,” the man spat back. “He wants you back in Kansas City,” he said to Catalina. “You took his baby, that’s not okay.”

“It’s not his!” she argued.

“He’d like his own doctors to test that,” the predator said.

“He doesn’t control KC anymore,” Catalina argued. “And he sure as shit don’t control me.”

“I think you need to go.” Mateo placed his hand on the predator’s shoulder, knowing it was a bad idea.

The predator backhanded him in the face, knocking him to the ground.

Darko made no attempt to help Mateo up, instead remaining stoic and collected. “You definitely need to go,” he echoed.

“You don’t wanna mess with me.”

Darko raised his voice a little, “no, sir, you don’t want to mess with me. You need to go. Now.”

“Catalina, who are these guys?”

“You don’t wanna find out,” she answered with confidence. She was a pretty good actor, quickly catching onto the fact that they were there to help.

“Do you know who I work for?” the predator asked, giving Darko his full attention now.

“I don’t really give a shit. Anyone who threatens Catalina’s safety, or her baby’s, will have to face me.”

The predator took out a knife, which Darko reacted to immediately. He made quick work of knocking it out of his hand, and then proceeded to use his fighting skills against him. The predator was a decent fighter himself, but in the end, it was no real competition. When it was over, the predator was unconscious on the ground, half of his face lying in a puddle of mud.

“Darko,” Marcy said simply. The whole group had arrived, having finished enjoying the eclipse.

“I had to, Marcy. He was a threat.”

She breathed in deeply and found her center. “I understand.”

“Who are you people?” Catalina asked.

“Are you running from him?” Darko asked.

“Not him, exactly. He’s just a lieutenant. It’s his boss I’m afraid of. He thinks my baby is his.”

“Is it?”

“Maybe.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Mateo said. “We have to protect her; from anyone, and everyone.”

“Of course. I know a guy, but first, we need to find a safe place to hole up.”

Leona used the internet, and her intuition, to find them a barn on the edge of town where no one would look for any of them. Serif and Marcy were then sent off to gather something from whatever store they could find it in. They returned a couple hours later with a ticket dispenser.

“What’s this for?” Mateo asked.

“This is April 8, 2024, right?”

“Right,” Leona confirmed.

“Why do you not know what the date is?” Catalina asked, confused.

Darko set up the dispenser and took the first three numbers out quickly, letting them drop to the floor. He handed the fourth to Mateo, and let the next three drop before handing the eighth to Mateo as well. He kept doing this until Mateo was holding the 4, 8, 20, and 24. “Just be happy it’s not 2099, or something, or that we didn’t need more than one dispenser.”

“What exactly is happening?” Serif asked, just as confused as Catalina.

Darko set the tickets on a workbench in order. “Everybody find a place to sit and wait. We’re at the DMV, this might take awhile.”

“What?”

They did as they were told, sitting in relative silence for the next couple hours. Suddenly, a man appeared from the shadows and stood on the other side of the workbench. “Number one!” he called out. “Who’s got number one!”

“I do,” Darko said, jumping up. “Jesus Christ, step out of character for a second.”

“Darko Matic, it’s been awhile.”

“I need two new identities. One is an infant.”

The man looked at Catalina, and her child.

“Under whose authorization?”

“Under mine.”

“Darko, you know the rules. I’m salmon, I can’t just give anyone I wish new papers.”

“This is a Kingmaker situation,” Darko explained.

“But, you’re not...”

“I am. Today I am.”

“Well, who is she? Rather, who is she gonna be?”

“I don’t know, that’s not my job. But she needs to disappear, and you need to help us with that.”

The man weighed his options. “All right. But if the powers that be come down on me, I’m callin’ you in.”

“Fair enough.”

“Approach the counter, please, ma’am,” he requested.

Still anxious, but starting to feel grateful, Catalina did as she was asked.

“I have a few questions. Firstly, what would you like your new name to be?”

As they were working new identities, Mateo spoke to his brother privately.

“Who is this guy?”

“The Forger. He sets up new identities for other salmon when they travel to new times and places. He’ll do it for choosers too, which is how we met, but only if he’s allowed.

“I could have used him from time to time,” Mateo said.

“Matic!” the Forger called out. “Is she staying in this time period?”

“That’s up to her!” Darko responded.

“Is he good?” Mateo then asked. “Will she be safe?”

“Perfectly. His IDs are the real thing. He doesn’t have to use a dead baby’s social security number, or anything. His papers literally rewrite history, very powerful stuff. He worked on Operation Second Wind.”

Catalina walked up to them holding a packet. “Wow, that was quick. In the movies, it takes, like, twenty-four hours.”

“But you’re good?”

“Yeah, they look great. I wanted to thank you for everything you did for me. I don’t know why you’re helping me, but I greatly appreciate it. How could I repay you?”

“Just take care of your child, and stay out of trouble.”

“I will. Specifically,” she opened her passport, “Tasha Rutherford will.”

“Rutherford?” Mateo asked.

“Yeah, it was the name of a guy who helped my older brother out of a jam a couple years back. I owe him everything, so I figured this was the best way to honor him since I can never actually see him again.”

“What, was he a lawyer, or something?”

“Yeah. Well, he was in law school at the time, but he did end up passing the bar. Thank you so much again. Sabine and I should be getting out of town.”

“Of course,” Darko said. “Be careful. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, except have fun.”

She smiled and left the barn.

“Lincoln Rutherford?” Mateo asked rhetorically. “That’s why he’s not here. Arcadia didn’t want her recognizing him.”

Marcy walked up, looking at the barn doors with them. “That was Tasha Rutherford.”

“Indeed,” Darko confirmed. “You know of her? Does she cure cancer?”

“No,” Marcy said with a laugh. “Her granddaughter does. Marcy Rutherford. I think I was named after her.”

“I think, maybe...” Leona began, trying to do the math in her head, “...she was named after you.”

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The Mystery of Springfield, Kansas: Chapter Two

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“Your daughter was in Springfield?” I ask.

“Yes,” Hokusai answers.

“You’re sure of this?”

“Yes, I know she was there. What happened?”

“Yet...you remember her?”

“Of course I do. How could I forget my own child?”

“That’s what normally happens.”

“What are you talking about?”

So I tell her everything I know. I draw a crude map of the original Springfield city, and start covering up and redrawing the borders to illustrate how it shrunk over the years. I talk about the people that we’ve lost; the children, and their families’ memories. I speak of the Cave of Requirement, as I sometimes call it; the cylicones that can turn ordinary objects into time devices; the house that disappears; the other dimension; and people we’ve lost. I tell her that her daughter is gone, along with everyone else.

“How do you know?” she asks after listening to my story with impressive patience.

“How do I know what?”

“How do you know that we can’t get them back?”

“Well...” I say, not knowing how to answer that.

“All you know is that they disappeared, not where they went, or if they went anywhere. You think they’ve been destroyed, because people’s memories have been wiped, but that’s not necessarily true. No one has ever heard of parts of a city being ripped out of time, so that’s not something the average individual is capable of fathoming. If they can’t fathom it, maybe it can’t be real for them. We don’t know much about how the human brain works, but we know that memories and thoughts aren’t just files in a computer. We remember things through categories and associations. If there’s ever any missing information, the brain will fill in the gaps. Kallias, it will literally make things up to protect us from inconsistencies. This helps us make sense of the world, but it also causes conflict. Since each of us has our own brain, this phenomenon itself occurs inconsistently, which means that two people will never remember the same event the same way, giving rise to disagreements, and sometimes even violence.”

“I follow you, but I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“You made a logical conclusion that the city has been destroyed because people’s memories of it have been destroyed. But memories can’t be destroyed, only the connections between neurons, so your reasoning is already flawed. You didn’t see any fire, or bolts of lightning, you just saw buildings and other landmarks blink out of existence. What if that’s not really what happened? What if the city just...went somewhere else?”

“Where would it go?”

“Maybe that other dimension you were talking about. Or maybe some other dimension. Maybe it’s just invisible, and the only other thing that’s changed is our memories and perceptions. Maybe my daughter is standing in front of me right now, trying desperately to get me to hear her voice.”

“And do you?”

“Do I...hear her voice?” She waits for a moment, then turns away to examine the forest. “No.” She turns back and continues, “but now that I’ve brainstormed the possibility that she is, her voice is all I hear.”

“How old is she?” I ask.

“She’s nineteen. I know what you’re thinking, and yes, I had her very young. Very young. It was...not my choice.”

“To have her, or to...?” I don’t want to finish my question.

“The second one,” she says solemnly.

“I’m sorry to hear that. That’s terrible.”

“It was. But if what you say, and what I think, are right, then Hilde may be safe afterall. If Springfield really is somewhere else, then her father will never be able to find her.”

“If what you say is right, then we absolutely must. We have to figure out exactly what happened to Springfield.”

“So you believe me?”

“That it’s possible the city is just waiting for us somewhere else? I was a detective. It’s not my job to believe things; just to investigate.”

We decide to head to the invisible house, because if any part of the town is going to remain behind while everything else is swept away, it’s going to be that bloody house. I was correct in my assumption. It takes some searching, since all navigational landmarks—like street signs and other houses—have been erased. It looks exactly as it always has, though; like a perfectly normal house. We walk inside, up the steps, and into the special room. The door to the dimensional elevator is still there, but the elevator itself has been replaced by a regular closet, as it does from time to time.

“What did she say it was?” Hokusai asks.

“A map,” I reply with a shrug. When she was just a little girl, my friend’s daughter witnessed the disappearance of Rothko Ladhiffe. Afterwards, she came up to this room, and drew on the door. I tried asking about it when I found her still working on it, but we were sidelined by the news of Rothko. I completely forgot about it as I moved on, trying to get people to leave their homes, so I never got a chance to ask again.

“I mean, it looks like nothing,” Hokusai says. “I don’t just mean that it’s a child’s drawing, but some of these lines don’t even connect. It looks entirely random.”

“There must be some pattern to it,” I say.

“Must there?”

“I dunno, but she was a genius. If anyone could crack this case, it would be her. People with her level of intelligence don’t just learn that at school. She was born with it; with that special something. I guess I’ve just gotten into the habit of thinking everything I encounter is meaningful.”

She squints a bit and keeps staring at the door. “Like what? What else have you encountered?”

“The Escher Knob, and the Rothko Torch, notably.” I pull them both out of my bag. “This can open any door, and this...uh, is a flashlight. I know it has powers, because it’s one of those cylicones I was telling you about, but I don’t know what it does.”

“Give it here,” she asks. She shines it around the room, and on her hand, before pointing it at the door. The lines that Hogarth had drawn begin moving around. They join together, they change size, and they slip away from the door to become three-dimensional. The shapes, now floating in the air, start multiplying and clumping together. It takes about a thirty seconds before we can see that they’re forming into a book. After it’s finished being created, the book threatens to fall to the floor, but Hokusai catches it just before it does.

“What is it?” I ask of her as she’s flipping through the pages.

“The answers,” she replies.

“Answers to what?”

“Everything I wanted to know about my daughter.” She closes the books and tenses up.”

“Hokusai. What’s goin’ on? What exactly is in that book?”

She starts backing away towards the door.

“Hokusai, where are you going?”

“This is for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s my book.”

“I’m not trying to steal it from you, but now I’m wondering why you’re so paranoid about it. Has it gotten ahold of you somehow?”

“It was written for me. Only I’m allowed to see it.” She passes over the threshold and looks back so she doesn’t fall down the stairs.

“And...did the book tell you that?”

“It did, actually, yes. I can find her,” she claims. “This will tell me how to do it. It won’t be easy, but it breaks the whole thing down for me.”

“Just tell me where she is. Can you at least give me this much? You’re not the only one who cared about people there. I’ve been dealing with this for over twenty-five years. I deserve answers more than anyone.”

“You’ll have to find them somewhere else. I’m sorry, Detective Bran, I can’t help you.”

“The woman I helped raise, like a niece, drew that map! I should see it too. I think it’s done something to you. You’re not thinking straight.”

“You’re wrong. Everything will become clear because of this. It lays it all out. I need it.”

“Hokusai, don’t do this,” I plead.

“I’m sorry.” She spins around and jumps onto the staircase, skipping the first few steps.

She’s practically down to the the first level before I get onto the steps myself. I race down, and try to follow her to the other side of the house. She flips the Rothko Torch on again, shining it on the back wall where they forgot to build a door. It begins to shimmer and sparkle in a more pronounced way than it usually does. Hokusai doesn’t stop as she’s bolting towards it, and I fear she’s about to hurt herself, but she doesn’t. She jumps right through the wall as if it were not even there. I try following her, but can’t. The glimmer has died down, returning the wall to its solid self.

“That’s my flashlight!” I scream to her, not knowing where she is, or if she can hear me. “Maybe that’s your book, but I found that flashlight, and I want it back!”

The flashlight passes back through the wall and starts rolling on the floor. I reach for it and try to turn it back on, but it won’t. I twist off the bottom, noticing how much lighter it is than it used to be. “The batteries? Really?” I yell. “Goddammit, now I have to go find more!”

By the time I drive all the way out to the next, and now only, town nearby, she has at least an hour head start on me. No matter, my only choice is to pursue. I switch the magic flashlight on once more, point it at the wall, and walk through like some kind of boy wizard in a train station.

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Microstory 680: Clean of Heart

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While staying on Earth, we encountered a ritual that some of the natives practiced known as baptism. Though some of our traditions are based on those of the Earthans, we know that their religion, called Chistianity is incorrect, because it conflicts with ours. This convention, however, spurred a bit of a disagreement amongst Lightseers. We know that the Light can have a powerful transformational effect on individuals, which—with its use of water instead—baptisms are designed to create. The water washes over their bodies and removes sin from their souls. The reluctance for most Lightseers to do anything remotely like this has to do with the concept of choice. Though Lightseers tend to raise their children as Lightseers, we respect the idea that everyone has the right to choose their path. We encourage our patrons to seek understanding by their own accord. If any Lightseer is only this way because they know nothing else, their beliefs could not possibly be real. Baptism on Earth is generally performed not long after birth, which means the child is completely incapable of fathoming what is being forced upon them. Most of us find this to be abhorrent, but there are those who accept it, and replicate it. The deep irony in this is that with the freedom the galaxy provides comes without the right to tell people how to raise their kids. In fact, the Sacred Savior seems to have some level of respect for these people, and foretold that the Lightseed baptism analog, gelen would be performed on a mainstream infant. It involves a special form of light therapy. Knowing the Book of Light to be absolute truth, the Highlightseers consented to this order. They went out and found a couple who had recently given birth. They completed the ceremony on the couple’s son, Baldovin. The passage in the Book of Light for the taikon predicted that this would the beginning of something important to come many years in the future, theoretically long after the taikon have been completed. We shall have to wait and see.

Microstory 679: Fruit of Dedication

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Every year, a new group of faithful followers committing themselves to a life of service to the Light are acknowledged and inducted into the Lucidares. The Lucidares area in a special class of Lightseers, just above the common man, but still below the Highlightseers. They do not have any say in the policy of our faith, but they are leaders in their community. They are lifelines to their friends and family, providing ad hoc comfort and guidance in times of desperation. Anyone can apply to be a Lucidare, but not everyone will make it. Those that do are honored at special events around the galaxy. Certain venues would be capable of housing them all at once, but we choose not to do this. The Light is meant to shine over everything, which means concentrating it would be defeating its purpose. Plus, if all of our leadership is in one place, then all of our leadership is in the same amount of danger from some hypothetical threat. This year, the Dedication Ceremonies were meant to be held a few months from now, but the Highlightseers decided to move up the occasion in order to coincide with the Fruit of Dedication taikon prediction. As it turned out, the event with off without any problems, and nothing particularly special that happened. Food was eaten, there was dancing and laughter, and the Lucidares were sent on their Initiation Missions. Not all taikon will ultimately alter the fate of the galaxy, or the faith. Some are rather normal, and even capable of being recreated. But that’s okay. Life is a series of events full of more than defining moments.

Microstory 678: Conflux Swarm

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Not long after arriving in this galaxy, scientists began spreading out and studying the new worlds. They were looking for which ones would be ready to support human life, and which ones would be dangerous. They were also just scientifically curious, as some people have a stronger thirst for knowledge than others. One planet in particular, later named Perihodos, presented them with an interesting case study. They discovered that it was covered with insects. Most of these insects were extremely large from having evolved on a world with a higher concentration of oxygen than ones where humans evolved. It’s not terribly uncommon; with trillions of stars that have been studied so far, it’s only natural that a percentage of them will have the right chemical composition. These insects, in fact, weren’t the only ones of their kind. They are what is known as periodic, in that they live most of their lives underground, only surfacing every once in awhile to propagate the species. There are many completely separate species of these creatures, each with their own period, and developmental processes. Some go into hibernation before emerging, others are active in their tunnels, and others do some mixture of both. Each species, and even subspecies, is on its own periodical cycle, which means that though each one will come up infrequently, there is always at least one species present at any one time. While some have doubted that the taikon have truly been happening, others were relieved that they started when they did. This is a special year for Perihodos, for it is what is known as the Conflux Swarm. As stated, each subspecies of each species operates on its own period, but this year is the mathematical consequence of all of them; the ultimate swarm. Each major species’ period has led it to rise from the ground at the same time as all the others. The world will be teeming with this life. They will fight for space, trying to signal potential mates through the cacophony of others attempting the same. They said that anyone caught on the planet would be killed by being bludgeoned by the flying varieties, from being choked out of resources, or by being rendered deaf by their songs. The taikon could only have happened now, or in another 1092 years. Though confluxa happen more often than that, only now is the time that brings nearly all of them together. It will be no more exciting than this. And it occurred just in time, because one of these insects is a delicacy that can only be seen every 364 years. It pairs well with the fruit of dedication.

Microstory 677: Punishment for Thieves?

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Theft is not illegal throughout most of Fostea. All planets and system civilizations are free to make their own rules, and devise their own punishments for “crimes” but they don’t necessarily have to, which is why we tend to not use that word at all. Instead, we have the term aggression. When you carry out an act of aggression against someone, they will generally be completely within their rights to respond accordingly. Even murder is legal in most states, but the punishment is more often than not death, and is usually executed by the victim’s family. That’s why people don’t just go around killing anyone who done them wrong. When Sotiren Zahir was structuring the galaxy, he questioned this, though. All prior civilizations had some centralized adjudicative system in place, and that seemed to work out for them, for the most part. He was, in particular, concerned with theft. His family had experienced a long history of theft. For many generations, this was how they made their money; by taking from others, and selling their possessions. He was ashamed of his family’s past, spoke little of it in his memoirs, and didn’t mention it in the Book of Light. Still, logic prevailed, and all aggressions were deemed lawful to the galaxy. In the taikon, however, he left the window open for this to be altered, should his contemporary’s descendants feel differently. Eido Tamsin’s replacement, Sanctius Viktorov was chosen to manage an interstellar vote while the last several taikon were taking place. About half the galaxy decided that they would like theft to be punishable unilaterally, while the other half liked things the way that they were. So a compromise was made that hopefully serves both sides equally. Theft, like all other aggressions, remains legal. The difference now is that if any victim wishes to relinquish their personal justice in favor of a new committee designed to punish aggressors, they may do so, for a nominal fee. Technically businesses such as this one already exist, however, in this case, compensation will be set at a fixed price. The committee will operate outside the general market, and will be required to accept every case that comes to them, regardless of its worth. This is a new thing we’re trying here, and we’ll have to see if it works. The Sacred Savior has left for us another window of opportunity to repeal this decision later, if need be.

Microstory 676: Replace Eido Giacomo

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There’s a lot of ambiguity and misinformation regarding Eido Giacomo. He is said to have committed the first murder in Fostea upon its original settlement. Though we can’t know this to be true without going back in time and taking a closer look, this is accepted in the historical records. Giacomo went on to a great many things after this, none of which included killing anyone else. His vow of nonviolence is as far as our certainty goes, for the rest of his life is filled with mystery and doubt. Many actions were attributed to him that he probably had nothing to do with. He was often conflated with Eido Seamus, and even Sacred Savior, Sotiren Zahir’s foster brother, Hamish. His true history is not important, only his teachings. We do know that Giacomo contributed greatly to the writings in the Book of Light. It is even believed that Sotiren dictated much, if not all, of the text to Giacomo, who copied the thoughts in shorthand, and then transcribed them in his own words. Yes, it is believed by many, and not irreligiously, that Eido Giacomo was the true writer of the book that our people hold dearest. This is a problem for some, but not most, as the words themselves hold value regardless of who wrote them down, or even who thought of them. Perhaps the Savior recruited Giacomo for this purpose, knowing that it was the best outlet for Giacomo’s feelings. Whether this is true or not, he is now longed passed, and must be replaced by someone new. The presumption was that whoever managed to remake the Club of Death would automatically be accepted as the replacement for Giacomo, but this is not how the taikon operate. Though these events are interwoven in a cohesive story, each one capable of affecting all others, that doesn’t mean everything fits perfectly and understandably. The Light works on a level that mere humans could not hope to fathom. Truth comes in many forms...from all directions. It was decided that the new eido would be determined in a more formal way. While other eidos were replaced by some trick of circumstance, this was not so of Andrea. Ileana Ulaire was chosen from a long list of candidates whose traits best matched her predecessor’s personality and achievements. These candidates have been closely monitored for much of their lives, and are cycled out of the system upon reaching a certain age to make room for more. They are essentially a backup plan in case no other possibility appears organically. This has been going on for centuries since we could not know when the taikon would come to pass. Giacomo’s successor was decided this same way. After a time of paring the candidates down to a shorter list, the Highlightseers eventually found that a little girl named Yladene Carey would fit the role perfectly. Though extremely young, she shows the greatest amount of potential. The Highlightseers did not so much choose her as she was chosen by the Light, which does not see age.