[SESSION id=0.0]: Cycle Start
"I am user," my voice echoed weakly off the padded walls of my shared office. "I serve the sectors of [world]." It was all I could do not to vomit as I recited the Cyclic Affirmation. "Through Stasia, I am given purpose, true and false." And null, I mentally added.
The Affirmation continued as normal. It was an everycycle feature. It was an everycycle annoyance. And worse, it was mandatory. Repeating the drone, the hollow words that meant nearly nothing, was simply a part of life as we knew it.
Most people in the office spoke the Affirmation a little too loudly for my tastes. They seemed pleased with the state of their lives. Good for them, I supposed, but it wasn't something I could stomach cycle-in and cycle-out.
I cast my eyes down to the floor, my too rugged hands hanging limply and striking a stark contrast against the light carpet. As dark as half the people in [city[0]]. But it was still one more thing I tried not to think about.
Anyway. It was our job to manage the cycles and defend the sectors from potential dissidents and threats. Not that I really believed the sectors needed my defence, halfhearted though it was. divine ⇒ safe, so ¬safe ⇒ ¬divine, not that it mattered. I was increasingly unconvinced of even their existence one way or other.
But that was a concern that traced back too far to summarise. And reciting the Cyclic Affirmation was a constant reminder of that time.
Disconnect
"progenitor," I whispered to her softly, "why do we recite Affirmations?"
I was nine supercycles in age. I was learning about the history of [world]. The sectors were not creators, but maintainers. They were stories told and stories learned. We were the culmination of those stories.
But it went further back, I'd learned. Lessons I was not old enough to hear.
"Well, offspring," she gave a smile, silk and sweetness, "Affirmations are our reminder that we are all connected. The Cyclic Affirmation connects us to the sectors. The Supercyclic Affirmation connects us to each other. The others all remind us of our place."
"Yes," I sighed, "but why?"
She stared at me like I had begun a second thread. I was only trying to understand. To learn. To grow. I wanted desperately to grow and become just like her. She was safety. She was much more.
"Well, offspring," she tilted her head as she spoke, "I believe it is because we must. And we must because it is the way, and it is the way because we must. The Affirmations are signal, we are meant to transmit and transform that into action. Into meaning."
The educators had said the same. Perhaps, I considered, it was not my place to wonder. Perhaps I was meant to grow and learn more before asking those questions.
"progenitor," I said with tears, "you can say you do not know. I do not know many things, and I am not faulted for it."
"offspring," she laughed, "you are only a few supercycles old. You are still learning. One cycle, far from now, you may understand."
Though, I suppose it may have begun far earlier than even that.
I was beginning my education. Four supercycles. It was Aging Cycle, and that meant we all transferred to our next purpose. For those of us in my age group, that meant we were gathered for education initialisation.
We were grouped. Not by ability, or at least not directly. Not by purpose or function. We were grouped by form. Strictly form.
It was the first time I'd met others of my age group. We all looked so similar, and yet, there were differences in form. My progenitor told me that it was called sex. The three sexes. Male. Female. Neuter. It was the only form that mattered. I couldn't tell, at the time, what was the difference. And yet, the educators knew.
The purpose of the grouping was unclear. Perhaps to indicate some measure of lesson on statistical distributions? Perhaps to isolate before education. Perhaps something more or less.
Of course, I asked 'why'. Of course, I was told 'because'. It left a sour taste in my mouth.
That was a map of my youth. Discover an operant. Investigate its function. Seek out the signal. Receive the transform from an adult. Return to the loop. With the exception of function, they were the forms represented by the sectors. But function was at the heart.
How many supercycles? How many dire losses? How many questions unanswered.
My progenitor did her best to answer those questions. Though her best might have been lacking. The educators were equally as bad. No. They were worse. The educators did not welcome 'why'. They did not make space for 'how'. They only had 'because'. They only had static.
Eventually, I was made to learn independently. That was not uncommon, but it was not considered a positive outcome. Independent education almost always led to being labelled as corrupt. corrupt entities were non grata.
So I ceased asking, even when I had questions.
In our thirteenth supercycle, the groupings were again enforced. We were to learn our roles in that schema. The differences in form became more pronounced. I learned that form was only relevant for procreation. But that only created more questions. So I kept them to myself.
Those questions were the crack. The first sign of breaking. The most relevant variable in the history that led to my present. The only constant that my future would one cycle recognise.
The Princess
"In Sheen," we recited, "I become a valuable function." What did that even mean? "Cyphera offers continuity, the extended execution." Nonsense. "When Rivia takes me, it is my time."
The final line was the only part of the Cyclic Affirmation I could agree with. When the end arrives, we are done. And while we might fight against that time, that time would come for us all. It was the one truth I never questioned.
Eventually, time comes for every user, even the sectors. Or at least, they appeared to have been taken by time. They were, after all, not obviously present.
As the last of the Affirmation finished echoing, we turned to our work. Rooting out the trouble, preventing the dissident. Saving people from themselves. The code was all there. Right before us. And it commanded [world].
"Did you hear about the crackers?" A coworker. Eren or Even or something. Obsessed with the news of the people who made our job necessary.
I rolled my eyes. They were on this every cycle. "They opened a window and found a root passcode, and they're using it for what exactly? To change the colour of the skylight to a slightly warmer shade of turmeric?"
None of the cracks were particularly interesting. The root passcodes they found only granted access to subsystems. Weak ones at that. Nothing particularly fascinating.
"More!" Eden or Elen or whatever was too excited for so early in the cycle. "I heard the Princess struck again!"
"Princess? The one who's really into plants or whatever?" I couldn't be bothered with it. Eyen or Eben or some such knew I didn't care. Why did they persist. "The Dirt Duchess will be so disheartened."
"Flower_Princess is making waves across the system, you know." So what. "They're saying the Princess made a full shopping node set its prices to zero. Word is that we're going to get assigned to stop it."
Of course that's what was coming. We were the best. Or rather, I was the best. When someone violated the signal enough to get noticed, they called me. I couldn't fault them that. They thrived on the loop.
"Well, when that comes, I'll be sure to give it my all. No manner of organic royalty will escape my sight." I indicated my console and raised my brows. "So, are we working, or talking?"
"You're such a weird guy," I gritted my teeth at their mistake. "But sure. I'll leave you to it."
That was their way. Every cycle the same nonsense. The same noise. The same ceaseless mundanity.
And I tolerated it. Not because it was the job, but because I had to.
The workcycle ended with the same Affirmation. Why was it recited sub-cyclically if it was meant to be a cyclic affair? It was the same when we were in the education transform. Begin the workcycle with the Affirmation. End it with the Affirmation. Return to ~.
My progenitor had an answer for that idiosyncrasy. Whether it was accurate to reality was another thing entirely. But it was satisfactory for a younger me.
"Well, offspring," she nodded understanding and patience, "we repeat it sub-cyclically," she tapped her chin, "because we must be reminded of our place. Not everyone is so fully certain of a function, so clear on their personal signal as you."
And I knew she was right about that – mostly, anyway – so I accepted it. The ordinary people around us were uncertain of their place. Perhaps, I considered, that was the reason we were grouped on form rather than function. To allow the ordinary people a chance to adapt, to adopt a place for themself.
But she was wrong. I wasn't clear on my signal. I was so uncertain that I nearly accepted SIGTERM, nearly sought it out for myself even. Many times, if I were honest. And I've always striven to be honest. Especially with myself.
But some things are too true to be honest about.
Access Denied
When at last the workcycle was concluded, the Affirmation recited, the workmates dispersed, I set to work on the projects I'd been holding off for just that time. No one would stop me. No one could stop me. I was the best, and that was how it went. Being the best came with perks, foremost among those was the right – nay, the imperative – to use the office resources for my own function after-subcycles.
Logging in and checking the assignment matrix was my favourite small rebellion. And if I perhaps took advantage of the moment to rearrange the upcoming assignments and priorities just a bit, then who could blame me.
╭─Lawrence.A@workstation in ~ via > v25.1.0
╰─λ cat /sys/net/assign/gov | grep -i "enforce\|tracert" | ~/.tabulate -f ~/.cracks
| task | title | system | subsystem | priority | assignment |
| ---- | -------- | ------ | --------- | -------- | ---------- |
| 7A32 | [redact] | gov | enforce | 0 | E_En.E_En |
| 7A33 | [redact] | gov | tracert | 0 | Lawrence.A |
╭─Lawrence.A@workstation in ~ via > v25.1.0
╰─λ There it was, right at the top. Epen or Eten or whatever and I would be working on a new assignment with priority 0. The management team would be assigning it soon. I had to assume it was to do with Flower_Princess. Good on the Princess if we were getting called in. Excellent work. Well done on being labelled priority 0.
I erased my presence and prepared to close the terminal. It's what I wanted, so there was no need to change things. Still. That username stared at me. Lawrence.A, shortened because my progenitor insisted on giving me a nonstandard name. Where she'd come up with it, I still didn't know.
╭─Lawrence.A@workstation in ~ via > v25.1.0
╰─λ usermod -l Rose.Thorn Lawrence.A
Access denied.
╭─Lawrence.A@workstation in ~ via > v25.1.0
╰─λ sudo usermod -l Rose.Thorn Lawrence.A
Illegal name: Rose
╭─Lawrence.A@workstation in ~ via > v25.1.0
╰─λ sudo usermod -l Lily.Aster Lawrence.A
Access denied.Couldn't hurt to try, right?
I once again cleared the records, still outraged that I couldn't fix that for myself. I'd tried a dozen or more ways. Every cycle presented a new opportunity to attempt the remedy. Every cycle presented the same pain.
Blaming my progenitor for the name wasn't entirely fair. It wasn't her fault that I didn't belong with the males. I didn't belong with the females either, so far as they knew. Certainly not the neuters. But how do you tell anyone that your form doesn't match your function?
Finishing the work I needed to manage for the cycle, I packed up and returned to my domicile. I could wait for the assignment. The office could wait for my best work.
I needed to defragment myself anyway. Life's too hard to fight a system that doesn't care.