[SESSION id=1.14]: Balance
Why, for the life of us,
In all your terror for it all,
Could you not find the one thing,
That would have solved everything.
— L.
The Rule of Thirds
"When I was a girl," Mother began, not even stalling for a second when I asked, "my friends told me about something beautiful, something impossible, something perfect. A simulation of reality."
"Can we skip the formalities, Mother?" I pleaded with her, to little effect. "The System. It seems to simulate reality, except when it doesn't."
"And that's where you're thinking conveyance before destination, daughter," she sat next to me on the bed. "Because The System is only the path we're taking, not the end goal."
"Fine. I'll listen, but I won't be happy about it." I grinned, hoping it would communicate enough for her to keep going.
"The simulation they stumbled into wasn't The System, but something related to it." She hummed a long second. As she shook her head, her hair swung like a hundred pendulums, all in time. "Okay. How do I explain. Have you ever logged into a workstation on a network?"
"I used to when I worked for Rain. At least until she saw that I preferred paperwork." My shrug was high. "My username is Lillian.Thorn on that network," I offered without asking. She raised a brow at something, but continued anyway.
"Good. In this simulation we worked with, everyone seemed to already have a username." Mother held up a finger on each hand to indicate something. "A one-to-one relationship between people and accounts. Perfect symmetry. Except for one." She dropped one of the hands. "If you trolled the whole database, there was no entry for Diana Leaflet or Diana Thorn. There were no entries for any Diana."
We sat in silence for several seconds as I processed the information. She waited, watching my face as I pieced together where she might be going.
"A couple of years later," she added, "I started hacking. I started on that other simulation, hoping to learn something, anything. And I did. No one believed me. So I let myself believe it wasn't true. Until I moved on to The System.
"Two accounts. One with null permissions. One with full access. Both touching every single file in a single act some trillions of years ago." A deep breath steadied her. "Both in the other simulation, and in The System, but there were different names. Lawrence Antella and Jazz Moon in one. Lillian Thorn and Jazz Star in the other.
"Ever wonder why I picked the name Lillian?" She tilted her head to the side. "I never wondered. It was the only name I could give you. Lion said the same thing of Jazz. Like it was meant to be. The goddesses decreed it so, and it was. Jazz and Lillian. Praise be." Her tone was irreverent as she said the last few things. Mother had never been religious and didn't understand my obsession with Aria and Nihil.
"Does Jazz know this story?" My mind was racing around the possibilities. "Or about the other simulation?"
"Probably not. On either count," Mother sighed. "The other simulation vanished from the networks ages ago. Only The System remains."
"On Erasure." I whispered. "Tell me about Rose."
"So far as I can tell, Rose is the origin of everything." She coughed. It was a tiny thing. Enough that it probably tickled something down deep inside her. "No one knows how to access her account. People have tried. Rose seems to be a sort of holy land for hackers everywhere. 'If I could just get to Rose,' they whinge, 'I could cure System Sickness'. Of course that's just wishful nonsense."
"Is it? What can Rose do? Why not that?"
"Because of the Princess." Her reply was flat, leaving no room for confusion. "Any change you make to the System gets reverted by that account before anything comes of it. We can't even be certain that it would do anything."
"That makes no sense." My head was starting to ache. "Even if you have infinite power, someone comes behind you and fixes it?"
"Her account has the same permissions, if rumours are to be believed. Privileged scheduler." Mother shrugged. "I tried for ages to get into Rose, but no luck. And what do I have to show for it? System Sickness!"
"Is it worth it?" I knew the answer, but it meant everything to hear it directly. "Because Jazz has it too."
Mother's expression turned to horror just long enough to notice. She managed to school it back into care quickly enough, but I had already seen. "It's only worth it to people who know about it ahead of time. Think of all the fools who didn't know it exists. Suddenly falling apart from the inside with no explanation."
"What if someone suddenly had access to both accounts?"
"They'd be the most powerful and sickly woman in the world."
So then why wasn't I?
Offset
I didn't beg Mother for any more. It all led back to the same question anyway. I had touched the goddesses directly, and I was unscathed. Mother had merely viewed them, and she was slowly falling to pieces. Same for Jazz. Why? What made me different?
Mother mentioned two accounts. One had null permissions, while the other had max permissions. She never said which or how or why. But that the account sharing its name with me was the culprit within The System. Was that why Jazz left?
Surely Jazz had checked her own permissions. So what?
There was absolutely no way she would have been upset by null permissions. And even if she were, she'd be at minimum thankful that she wouldn't get System Sickness because she couldn't touch The System. Except that she had, which would mean I had the null permissions.
I powered on the old workstation and was grateful that it was no longer logged into Rose, even if that's what I needed.
login: Flower_Princess
Flower_Princess @ System in /
└──── /usr/share/db/system.shWelcome, Rose. ╭─Rose@δόμος in (0.0.1) ~/ ╰─⏣: user probe -pli Lillian.Thorn``` username: Lillian.Thorn userid: 2107101987 ```
╭─Rose@δόμος in (0.0.1) ~/ ╰─⏣: userdbctl --limit 1 --first 2107101987 --vital | ~/usetable.sh``` | user | age | s | c | p | flags | | ------------- | ---------------- | - | - | - | -------- | | Lillian.Thorn | 10500000461501F0 | F | F | | FFC447FF | ```
What the fuck?
I stared at the thing for probably far longer than I should've. What did any of it mean? Well, I knew what it meant. Where my permissions should've been was a blank entry. The account's age was impossibly old, verging on half as old as Rose. The flags were bizarre.
So what had Jazz seen that made her hurry out on me?
My call device rang. Unknown Number.
"Not now," I answered the call. "Unless you're going to explain something for real this time." The hum spoke almost as loudly as words would've. "Who am I?"
"Finally asking good questions, Doll," the voice almost moaned. I still couldn't place it. "Couldn't even get you to do that before things got weird."
"Jazz?"
"No, I'm Jazz. You're Lillian Thorn," she giggled through the words. "Ask another."
"Which Jazz?"
"Oh now that takes the fun out of the game, doesn't it, beautiful woman." The vis-screen lit up. The face wasn't any Jazz I'd met before, and yet she was unmistakably the real thing. "If you don't recognise this face, then you got to this point earlier this time."
"I don't understand," I mumbled, piecing things together slower than I had any right to. "How many?"
She set a finger to her lips. "Last count? Six. Probable count," her hands waved like leaves on a tree, "who knows. You are insane, after all." After a moment of silence, Jazz suddenly jumped. "Well, not you. You're one of the sane ones. Most of Lillian is insane."
"Why call me?" I barely got the words out before I realised. "You can't call any of the others." She nodded. "I still don't remember, for what it's worth."
"See how asking good questions moves the conversation forward?" Jazz shook her head, apparently disappointed in something. "Ask one more question, then I have to let you go."
"What am I forgetting that you are forced to remember?"
"The beginning."
She disconnected the call before I could ask anything else. I was left with as many questions as answers, almost none of which matched. How peculiar that I continued to populate this field of questions with so few clear answers.
I reached to turn off the workstation again. No sense risking harm if I'm right about everything. My hand stopped though, a hair's breadth from stopping, when I had an idea.
After several minutes' deliberation, I found a file in The System that couldn't be overlooked. I left a simple enough comment in it. Just a test. A way for everyone to know I'd been there.
Regression to Mean
"I don't know how they did it," Jazz's voice – my Jazz's voice – was refreshing to hear, "but someone got past the Princess. And they did it in a way so delicious. Lillian, don't you understand, someone did the impossible."
"Jazz, as relieved as I am to see your face on this vis-call, as happy as I am to hear you speak to me," I did my best to snarl at her, but I was truly overjoyed, "it's been almost three work-weeks. And you call me and launch directly into your news without a word of grace or apology."
She smirked at me, and all ire I had melted. "Fine. Be that way, princess," she challenged, "did you figure it out, or did you guess it?"
"To be fair to me, I did much more than that, if you can believe it," I said with complete calm. "But lilium wasn't the most difficult password you could've set. Rhododendron would've been harder to crack."
"No one likes rhododendron, Lillian," she groaned. "But point taken. So how did you get in?"
"I didn't."
"But you said —"
"Jazz, I said I did more. I didn't say that was included in more." My words were as much an assault on her as they were a triumph. Her smile told me she agreed. "But I'm not telling you anything else until we are in the same space together."
"I take it that means you're going to zip it and not speak from here?" She rolled her eyes at me. "Fine. No worries. Whoever did it left a comment in one of the core files. 'Hey princess, try and stop me'. They signed it with a character shaped like a flower. Normally, that sort of thing would've reverted immediately, but it's still there. I've refreshed the file almost a dozen times just since starting the call."
We stared each other down for several seconds before she continued.
"Fine. I spoke to Omi. They said if someone is willing to manage the conveyance, and if someone is willing to make sure you see a doctor in Central, and if someone is willing to stay with you at your place – which is a fuck tonne of 'if', Lillian – you can return to the city." She blinked a few times. "Can I come get you?"
I nodded, but didn't say anything else.
"Then I'll be there before you wake up in the morning."
"Good girl."
Jazz was blushing and sputtering as I disconnected the call and climbed into bed. I was dizzy from such a small exertion. Maybe I was getting System Sickness. Except I wasn't. This was just a symptom of the head injury. Recovering from concussion was a challenge.
I awoke under the weight of Jazz Thorn. Not the place we'd lived together for a year. It was the first place I'd met her. Her body was light compared to the body I occupied. Before Other Lillian corrected everything. But after she started toying with corrections, if the body was any indication.
"You're awake down there, Lillian," Jazz said with a sigh. "What domiciles do you live in?" When I didn't immediately answer, she lifted her head. "Good, you're still here."
"Technically, I've returned," I said with a grin. "But I suppose from your perspective, I've not left. Hope that's not too disappointing."
"I said 'good', did I not?" She pinched my arm. "Stop disparaging yourself."
"An important question," I began with some hesitation, "how much of your book have you written?"
Her body flushed, and I felt the heat pass through our clothes. "All of it?"
"So you lied to me." I was smiling. "If there's one thing I know about Jazz Thorn, it's that she keeps her cards close."
"Probably true of your Jazz, too," she pushed herself up as she spoke, "so if you don't like that, you should run as fast as possible away from her."
"What do you know about rose?"
"Goddess doesn't cut it," Jazz said while she straightened her top. She stood and moved to the kitchen. "Oh. Thanks for letting me cry yesterday. I needed that."
"Clearly."
"Stim-Brew?"
"I really genuinely prefer tea."
Jazz shrugged as she worked at something. "More for me, Miss Thorn. Now, why not let's have a chat. What do you know about the beginning?"
"A different Jazz asked the same question," I admitted, uncertain what it meant, "or at least, she brought it to my attention."
"How many of me have you seduced now?" Jazz's teasing made both of us laugh. "Judging by your face, you will seduce at least two or have from your perspective. Am I one of them?"
"Shut up." I covered my face with a pillow. "I don't know anything about the beginning. What should I know?"
"In the beginning were the flowers."
I woke to Jazz Star's face in front of me. She was sitting on the floor, legs crossed, just like she'd been a few times before. Her eyes were a little too bright, but it was her, for certain.
"What do you know about the beginning, Jazz?"
Her brow quirked oddly. "Like, cosmologically? Epistemologically? Biologically?" Her stupid smile made me mirror the expression. "I could go on forever like this, but I'll make it frank. I know what's in the books. If it's not in a book, then I know practically nothing. But good for you, I've read a mountain of books."
"Figuratively?"
"Literally," she gently shoved my arm, "they even named it Mount Star after me, and we have drunken naked parties at the summit once every five years."
"No longer afraid of me, or simply afraid of something much bigger than me?" I sat up, only realising I had slept nude as the blanket slipped off and her eyes went wide. "Oh stop. You've seen this dozens of times, Jazz."
"And I've missed it for the last thirty days, so forgive me for basking in it." After several seconds, she realised there was a question attached to my indignity. "And the second one. You're terrifying, sure, and I assume you know why, but someone changing The System? That's big."
"What did you find on the workstation, by the by?" I knew what she found in the user database, sure, but nothing much more. "Was it proof that I was secretly the very same Princess who has been the bane of your existence?"
"Oh that? Nothing so fun." She moved to sit beside me. "Your workstation has a direct link to another workstation running autonomously with the username that corresponds to you in The System." She took a deep breath and held it for entirely too long before blurting out a lot more. "So I looked up your account and found it had almost all of the fundamental information missing like you don't even have a mother in there and you have no permissions not like zero permissions but it's empty empty and your vital stats are blank and your flags show that you automatically get assigned to every single group and —" she gasped for air and was about to start again when I held up a hand.
"Got it," I chuckled, "you found the impossible. Have you looked up your own account in there?"
"Never had a reason. Always had just enough access to do as I needed by using Silver Thorn to bypass things." She put an arm around me. The warmth of her hand on my waist reminded me that I still hadn't dressed.
I shoved her off of me and grabbed a nearby shirt. Throwing it on, I realised there were more questions to ask. "What exactly is Silver Thorn?"
"It's laid out in On Creation," she said, a disappointed look on her face as she continued staring at my chest, "but I suppose you hadn't started cheating, so you didn't see it when you read the thing."
"Suppose not," I said with a shrug. "Give me three minutes."
The workstation's whirring and humming was beginning to feel like comfort. I ran the same commands as before, but with Jazz's name. Jazz Star was exactly as expected. I shrank the terminal window so that she couldn't see what I'd done. Only the evidence stood before her.
"Huh." Jazz just stared at the three lines of text. "So you have access to the database. Neat."
"No comment about the permissions that match Rose's?" I was awestruck that she took it so calmly.
"Eh, not like I can use the account. Don't know how to login to the thing." She shrugged again then pulled me up from my seat. "How are you feeling?"
"Not good enough for the face you're making," I waggled my brows at her. "Though I could probably play princess of the pillows for you." I winked at that and lay in the bed.
"Fine, but if your mother comes home, we're stopping, loading up the conveyance, and getting ourselves back to Central."
Mother did not interrupt. And when we were finished, we loaded up her conveyance anyway, but we waited for Mother to return. It was curious. When she walked through the door, I was certain there was more colour in her cheeks, but that thought passed quickly. She was standing taller as well.
"Girls," she said once she processed the two of us sitting happily on the couch, "we're going to the cafe. Have a proper lunch as a mother, her daughter, and whatever in Nihil's name you are to Lillian, Jazz." She giggled at herself.
"You sure, Mrs. Thorn? I can cook for you." Jazz stood and was already at the door before she finished speaking.
"No she can't," I corrected with a sly look at Jazz. "I could, but if you want to go see Layn, I'm all for it."
"Perfect!"
We rode together in Jazz's conveyance to the cafe. Layn smiled at all three of us as we entered. Dr. Stella and Nona Stella were set up at a table in the corner.
"Go sit down girls," Mother said as she approached the counter. "Make nice with family."
"Ah," Jazz breathed. "A set up. Well, better get it over with."
Immediately as we sat down at the table the questioning started.
"What are your intentions with my daughter, Miss Thorn?" Dr. Stella to me.
"Romance." Quick, clean answer. They appreciated that.
"Do you understand, sister, that if you break it you can't just return it?" Nona directed at Jazz.
"Obviously." Again, as clean as possible.
"Are you girls serious, or is this just a fling?" Both of them, daughter and outher united.
"Like it or not, we're kind of tied together, so." Jazz beat me to it.
"Not sure I like the sound of that, but — Oh! Diana. So lovely to see you!" Lion Stella brightened instantly as Mother sat beside them. "We were just —"
"Harassing your daughter and mine." She leaned in and kissed Lion on the cheek. "Don't stop on my account. Have you told them to stop having intimate encounters in my house?"
"You could tell?" Jazz spoke through her teeth. "Sorry about that."
"It's fine, dear," Mother said as she put a hand on Jazz's. "Lil should've told you the rules."
"Omi and Da used to have the same rules, ma'am," Jazz grimaced, "so I could've made the leap."
"So long as you don't do it again."
"Yes, ma'am."
The meal itself was pleasant after that. Nothing particularly fascinating beyond the ease with which they all shared space. Once we were finished, the long drive back to Central City was ahead of us, and I fell asleep before we even left Lake Town. Apparently lunch was too much exertion after, well, everything else that morning.
I woke when Jazz leaned over me from outside my door. We were there, apparently. I was still groggy, so I let her guide me into my home, where I went straight to the couch. Four books on the table. Three black, one blue. Perfect.
Might have managed to fall asleep. Was almost there when I realised what I'd just seen.
The blue book was just Principles of Composition. But the others, the black books. Same cloth cover. Same embossing work. Contrasted only in colour. Emerald text. Ruby text. Amethyst marvel of artistic vision.
It was distinctly my artwork. I had drawn that very cover art the first time I sat with Jazz Thorn when she tried to explain [world] to me. Scroll work with vines and leaves, four flowers – one at each colour – a workstation monitor occupying the central feature. Just below that, the title.
On Integration and Dissolution of Harmony, A love letter to the concept of love and the loss of agency in the name of perfection. By Jazz Thorn. Illustrated by Lillian Thorn.