[SESSION id=0.9]: Transfer Complete
Stasia Refuted
Lillian Thorn, Flower_Princess
Erasure, creation, dissolution, and hackingThe Core
- Any hack that harms any person is a sin.
- Performing any hack that harms any person is grounds for termination.
- Performing any hack without understanding its reach is grounds for termination.
- No hack should be performed without comprehensive documentation and knowledge that it does not violate this rule.
- Any hack that is not elegant is a sin.
- Performing any hack that is not elegant is grounds for termination.
- No hack should be performed without confirming its elegance through at least two third-parties.
- Any hack that is not efficient is a sin.
- Performing any hack that is not efficient is grounds for termination.
- Efficiency tests should be performed prior to any further action.
- No hack should be performed without confirming its efficiency through at least one third-party.
- Any hack that is not effective is an abomination.
- Performing a hack that is not effective is grounds for remediation.
- Do not be that girl.
I stared at the list. I couldn't send it to anyone without removing one or the other of my names, but I also couldn't send it to anyone without violating the first rule. Not yet anyway. It was to be the core of my new philosophy. But it felt entirely too stuffy, hence the last line's derailing of tone.
Still, it felt good. It felt like I was finally becoming the L.A. Thorn I'd created in my head as a child. That L.A. Thorn wouldn't charge headfirst into destiny. Not without first having a proper plan. I had until the end of the cycle to have this plan ironed out. My first cycle back from leave would be important for setting the stage.
They couldn't catch me cleaning logs if I only cleaned the ones that showed me breaking rules and left the others in place. I counted myself lucky that I had the original cleaner script. It was the perfect tool for doing things I shouldn't, as it focused on one console session.
I removed the title and attribution from the document. I couldn't easily work with it without someone reading it first. Two messenger windows stared at me, both in the middle of conversation. What was the harm in sending it to both? One of my rules required two extra bodies anyway.
LA:
> I have a document I need an extra pair of eyes for. Preferably two.
> Can I send it?LT:
> Girlfriend of mine. I have a request. If you don't mind terribly.
> Can you read over something I've written?My eyes scanned both windows every so often waiting for a reply. As I did, I added one more provision. They responded within seconds of each other.
JN:
> Send it. Can't be having you do things on your own.ST:
> Why wouldn't I read more of your pedestrian ramblings?
> I'm kidding. Please send it.Once it was on its way, I let the thing slip from my mind. No point worrying over it. Instead, I turned to something else. A curiosity gripped me. So I booted up the garden and waited.
The noise reminded me of my past, and I just bathed in it, letting everything wash gently away.
At last, I was greeted with my favourite shade of terminal green, and I turned to trying to accomplish the impossible.
rose@garden in ~: sudo su
rose@garden in #: ssh @.TERRA.tracert -u Lillian.Thorn
No such user.
rose@garden in #: ssh @.TERRA.tracert -u Lawrence.A
password: ********************
Logging in ...
Welcome back, Lawrence Antella.
╭─Lawrence.A@TERRA.tracert in ~ via > v25.4.2
╰─λ user probe -pl
username: Lawrence.A
permissions: 0xE27CA512
╭─Lawrence.A@TERRA.tracert in ~ via > v25.4.2
╰─λ su phyllo
password: meadow
╭─phyllo@Ω in ~ via > 0.0.b
╰─ω man userdbctl
No manual entry for userdbctl
╭─phyllo@Ω in ~ via > 0.0.b
╰─ω userdbctl --help
I stared at the screen. Amazed I'd gotten this far. My chest tightened around the possibility that I might destroy my favoured computing unit if I executed the command. As I stared at it, both pings came back at once from JN and Jazz. The files were nearly identical.
On the Philosophy of Benevolent Hacking
To contrast the theory of the crack.Core
- Harmless. Elegant. Efficient. Effective. In that order.
- Failing any of these is a sin and punishable by
SIGKILL.- All possible fallout should be measured, verified, and mitigated against these possible sins. Failure to do so is punishable by
SIGKILL.- All hacks must be verified by one other hacker before execution.
- Irreversible. Untraceable.
- Failing either of these is abomination and punishable by auto-
SIGTERM.- All hacks must be verified by one other hacker before execution.
To be amended as signatory parties see fit.
Signatories: Lillian Thorn
They'd each put their own names on there. JN Flowers and Jazz Thorn. Why had she signed it that way? In any case, why were the two documents so strikingly similar. Both the same type of edit. Both the same structure. The only real difference aside from name is that JN had only called for SIGINT of all hacking by the offending party, not SIGKILL or SIGTERM.
Forked from the same codebase was an understatement.
As I stared at the files, the hashes associated with them, the various inconsistencies, I entirely forgot to execute the command, leaving myself to worry over it in the morning. userdbctl could wait.
true/false/null
I awoke in a thrashing mess as morning came. Immediately I knew I'd lost something, some definite and clear connection to truth I'd been subtly missing for cycles. Possibly supercycles. It was right there, on the edges of consciousness.
Then there was a knock on the door. Twice in the span of less than a complete cycle.
Opening the door, I was unsurprised to find Jazz. I was terribly shocked she was holding two cups and a small box that smelled vaguely sweet. Noticing clothes wasn't my strong suit, but she was dressed in full business, makeup applied flawlessly, hair carefully tied into something vaguely intimidating.
"Go. Sit at the table. Try this again, Lillian. You look like someone SIGTERMed." She was serious.
I crossed to the nearby table and sat. She closed the door, waited a few seconds, and knocked again. My mouth stretched into a smile as I hurried to the door and opened it, still grinning.
"Good morning, Jazz!" It was a genuine delight, and it felt alien. "What is it, ten degrees before light? I wasn't expecting you, but please come in."
She smirked. "Good girl." Her words made me shiver as she stepped in, ignoring me for a moment to empty her hands. "Not perfect, but an improvement. First cycle back at the office, we have to have you looking good."
Just as I opened my mouth to respond, she grabbed my face and pulled me into a kiss. A proper one. The first time since our very first. I lost myself in it, barely remembering to close the door as my breath quickly left me.
"Sit, Lillian. Eat breakfast. I told Lyra I'd be managing your morning up to the point you arrive at work." I sat back in the same spot, and she slid me one of the drinks. "Not your normal stim-brew. This will make you relax. It's going to be a tough morning."
I took a sip. It was soft. Sweet. As it slid down my throat, I felt everything relax. Jazz left me to it, taking the box with her and returning with a plate of food I knew I didn't have on hand. Eggs. Protein supplements. Fruit. Vegetables. And my usual layer pastry.
Jazz spoke. I ate.
"A new project fell in my lap while you were on administrative leave." She grinned. "It's my favourite project in supercycles, Lillian. And it comes with some perks. Foremost, I will be working in [city[1]] for a little bit. Then in [city[3]]. But more than that, I get to take a plus-one.
"What I need from you," she took a sip from the other cup, "is to be good for the next five cycles. Good enough they feel like probation is overkill." Her hand found one of mine. "That way, they'll let you work at satellite offices while I'm on assignment."
Our eyes met. She was serious. "How good do I need to be? I have a lot of work to recover in the next few cycles. Can I at least rebuild my walls?"
Her lips met the back of my hand. "If you don't, then even if you do well, I'll leave you behind. That idea of yours. Introducing the first real hacker actions in ages. You and I are going to plot it out. Together." She suddenly noticed the sound. garden was still running, still had the command typed and ready to execute. "What's that sound?"
"Have I told you about my own little garden?" I grinned. "An old computing unit. From before the modern workstations. It was my first workstation. And how I —"
"Met your first love?" Of course I blushed at that. "A rogue ping in a pile of hundreds. A badly written love poem?"
Did she know? I knew she was connected, somehow, to JN. But did she know about our history? My face must have given me away. She shifted into something resembling playfulness.
"I'm kidding, Lillian," she stood and followed the sound. "Keep eating." As she got into the next room, I heard her whistle. "You really don't know how to stay out of trouble."
There was a click. The sound of a submit key being pressed. No time to worry. If it caused issues, then that was it.
"Did you know the root user database had such a comprehensive help message?" She came back in the room. "Also, that phyllo shell is creepy. You should look at changing it."
"So it didn't fry my oldest workstation? It didn't kill the power grid?" I nearly knocked the table over as I stood and raced toward the other room. Jazz stood in the way. "Move! I need to —"
"Honey. No. You need to work." She sniffed the air. "And before that, you need a shower. Finish breakfast. I'm walking you to the office. I know how bad your navigation skills are."
"What?"
She delivered me almost to the front entrance of the office. How did she know where I worked? Had I told her it was this office? Wait. Network addresses map to physical ones. Obviously.
Just before leaving me to go to her own job, she pulled me in for another kiss. "I'll be right here when you get done, Lillian, my sweet flower. Don't get in trouble. Do rebuild your various protective walls. And don't let the pressure get to you."
Walking into the office, I could feel the eyes of every person on the ground floor. The badge reader outside the lift showed a green light. Full access again. That was a good sign. I stepped into the lift just as a familiar pressure settled on my shoulder.
"Antella," Even Even's voice was a welcome refuge, even if it was riddled with pity. "I've missed you. Two full rest cycles since we last had the champ at a desk doing work."
Why were they talking like that. Was that how they always spoke to me?
"So how is my favourite workmate doing?" Their question was friendly, but it was weird. What was it they were doing differently. "When the supervisor said she found our ace in the middle of a breakdown, I was sure you would be back in a cycle tick." That was almost normal. But not quite.
"I appreciate that, Even," I forced a gentle smile. "My girlfriend took good care of me, and the supervisor had a good chat with me about the incident."
"Probably said something like 'you're a good kid, you know, but you should take better care of that mind' right?" Why couldn't I place what was different about their words?
"Anyway, Antella, I just wanted to say thanks for coming back. You're a real good one."
The lift doors opened, and we stepped out. The scorch marks were still there. The workstation was still gone. The supervisor was standing, waiting for me.
"Hello there," she said, not quite with venom, "come with me. You've been moved to a private office. I must say, friend, that I wish I had your connections." She was doing it too.
I followed her to a door at the opposite corner of the space from her own office. She opened the door, then handed me a key. "You have a key, but that doesn't mean you should be locking the door, except when you leave for the cycle. Per your probation, no late post-workcycle business. Get in there, ace."
Awkwardly, I stepped in. I left the door open and moved to the desk. A bit smaller than the supervisor's office and desk, but something nice nonetheless. I was struck with the scene. I looked important.
Stepping over to the workstation, I saw a message on the screen.
JN:
> Apologies. I went a bit overboard.
> If it's too much, I'll make them switch it back. Glad you're back at it.
> Good luck today, Miss Thorn.
LA:
> The office is fine. I'm more concerned with how everyone is acting.
> Was that you?
JN:
> I *might* have told Miss Rain Cloud that if you're that valuable, you need ...
> comfort. And you deserve at least a bit more comfort. It was a long chat.
> Almost took over the office myself.
LA:
> You could've warned me, but I appreciate the sentiment."Hey, Antella," Even leaned into the room, "can we chat?"
"Can it wait until the Affirmation?" Play by the rules for five cycles.
"You don't even like the Affirmation." Even smiled. "To be honest, I don't love it. But it's an important part of the cycle. Unity and such, you know."
Sure. I knew it. Didn't love it. But it wasn't exactly harmful. "That's true. But I've had something of an eye-opening experience and a bit more profound respect of Rivia."
"Oh yeah. The ..." they waved their hands about mysteriously, "... incident. I'm glad you're okay. My lady friend was worried about you too. If you want to make time for that outing, you know ... all four of us. We can start looking in something like ten cycles."
"Honest to Rivia? I'd like that." My smile was genuine. I could feel it. But my words were anything but.
true to her word, Jazz was waiting for me in the exact spot she'd kissed me earlier in the cycle. Workcycles typically ended around forty-five degrees before dark, so it was confusingly bright as I stepped out of the building and looked left, then right, and eventually spotted her, skulking in the shade of the next building.
"We're going back to my place tonight," she said, pushing off of the building and closing the space between us. "I need to show you something."
"I won't be able to get home from a new place, Jazz," I admitted. "Navigating the streets is not my strong suit. I can barely find my way off of a public transit vehicle."
"Hopeless, helpless, hapless," she said, taking my hand. "The point was for you to not need to go back to your place until tomorrow."
I blushed as I considered the implication. "Well, what about clothes? What about garden? What about F— That is to say, what about the work I'm doing?"
"You will find," she said softly, "that you will not go wanting in any capacity. I stole your spare key this morning and gathered the least offensive outfit I could. So far as garden, we will just have to find a way to occupy ourselves without your nostalgia machine tonight."
"But what about —"
"Lillian. You're stuck in the past. J.N. Flowers will understand. She's got her own things going on." She pulled me to a stop and met my eyes, a new expression colouring her next words. "Just for tonight, stay in the present with me. I'm sure she'll understand."
My hand released its hold on hers. Something wasn't right.
"Why are you so worried over it? Jazz, what's the deal? What's going on?" Her expression shifted. "So there's something." A scowl. "If you told me right now to never talk to JN Flowers again in my life, I might just do it."
"I can't tell you that, Lillian. Not without hurting both of us." She turned away from me. Hurt in her voice. "But I don't think you understand that."
"Because of the ultimatum?"
"No. Because of the truth." Her breath was getting short. "The truth I've known for almost a hundred cycles, but couldn't admit until twenty cycles past."
"I don't understand."
"You wouldn't, would you?" She was almost growling the words, still not looking at me. "You compartmentalise everything so thoroughly that you can't see the garden for the one flower you're fixated on."
"What does that mean?"
"It means you have a problem. You need to solve it. How do you solve problems, Lillian? How does LA Thorn solve her problems?"
"Asking questions no one wants to answer." I said it, thinking back to the original manifesto. "Then seeking the answers behind the inevitable 'because', regardless of who gets hurt."
"What if you get hurt by seeking the answers?"
"It was worth it to find the truth."
Jazz turned to face me. Tears were streaming down her face. "Then why aren't you seeking the truth. I knew it was you the moment I saw the first report. I knew it was you when I stumbled into your clever work. I followed you for eighty cycles before you noticed me. But you didn't notice me following you. You noticed me following her. A trail I left so long ago I'd almost forgotten it.
"Damnit Lillian. Look at me." I was looking right at her. "Ask. The. Questions. When did you give up seeking truth? Was it when you met Flower_Princess? Did she change you that much."
"She changed everything, Jazz. She changed me. She changed [world]. She changed JN." I listed off the names before realising I was missing one. "Apparently she changed you, too. Flower_Princess was the biggest mistake I ever made."
Her face twisted into something different. Recognition. Understanding. "No." Her hands found my collar. "No. It can't be. You gave up on me. On us. For your own vanity?"
"What in Cyphera's name are you talking about, Jazz?" I took a sharp breath. "I thought you knew it was me."
The slap was quick. Hot. Well-deserved. "Call me by my name. Stop playing games. How do you not know by now?"
"Know. What?"
"Still not asking questions. Certainly not the right ones."
"How am I to know the right questions if I don't know the problem?"
"Fair. Problem. You have two women you deeply love. One is your past. One is your present. Who do you choose?"
"Why do I have to choose?"
"Good question. Wrong one, but good. You have to choose because I'm making you."
"How do I choose?"
"Try again."
"Both of you are in my present Jazz. That tells me something." I couldn't admit it. That was too much. Too dangerous. "Something that fundamentally cannot be true. Because you kissed me. And she hasn't forgiven me."
"Neither have I."
"Because."
"Are you actually there this time, or is this another famed LA Thorn swing and miss?"
"Don't call me that. My name is Lillian. You gave me that name. Use it."
"You get Lillian back when you answer me. Who gave you that name?"
"Both of you. You when I told you about being cross-coded. And you, when you introduced me to your sister."
"Say it, then."
"J.N. Flowers. She's you."
Her teeth were bared until the moment I said it. Her face was streaked with tears. "Do you hate me, princess?"
"Never." I didn't deserve to hate her or anyone else. "You know it's all been for you. When did you figure out I was Flower_Princess?"
"About ninety cycle ticks ago. But I had my suspicions." She laughed. "We're both idiots, Lillian. Come back to my place?"
"Seriously? Even after that?"
"Especially after that."