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for the next 210 days of this year, exhaust drains will [[drench|this drone]] the entire residential column with the black chalk clouds of chemical runoff from the orbital spire.
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my mind was <<revise panic "racing">>.\n\n<<revision panic>>the money wasn’t important.<<gains>> i didn’t really need the pay levels.<<gains>> but i did need the job-<<gains>> with it came the habitation rights for my quarters aboard the station,<<gains>> and more importantly the protection of a government position,<<gains>> without that, my former bosses from the Lotus could hunt me with impunity,<<gains>> and even the Orion Syndicate might find me,<<gains>> but working for the Interim government i at least had security,<<gains>> but now that was all<<gains>> thoroughly<<gains>> fucked,<<gains>> and i wondered where my new assignment would be<<gains>> and what itchingly tedious work i’d be doing,<<gains>> and how could i have been<<gains>> STUPID ENOUGH to believe that i could keep something good going,<<gains>> after all the mistakes,<<gains>> after alllll the mistakes,<<gains>> how the fuck<<gains>> did the data ministry find out i was a net-girl,<<gains>> and why were they even looking,<<gains>> and even if they hadn’t found out they’d probably have laid me off anyway,<<gains>> i had seen the numbers,<<gains>> i knew the brewing financial storm showed no signs of slowing down,<<gains>> had run the analysis myself,<<gains>> should have been better prepared for this,<<gains>> why did i let things come to this again,<<gains>> maybe i’d feel better if i talked to my mother,<<gains>> but she’s probably sleeping,<<gains>> i’ll call her later,<<gains>> i promise this time,<<gains>> Sonam you piece of shit,<<gains>> just man the fuck up and kill yourself,<<gains>> you could overload the oxygen culvert in your quarters and you’d just go to sleep and then it would be all gone and you wouldn’t be stuck here in this skyless place with yourself.<<endrevision>>\n\nrunning [[wasn’t helping|w]].\n
i tried hard to keep my thoughts <<revise a1 "inside" end>> my lungs.<<insertion a1>>\n\norbiting above the white surface of Nuna’s only moon, Lunar Seventeen had been my home for thirteen weeks. narrow circular [[hallways|super]] ringed malnourished offices and grimy recreation areas, connecting them to habitats for the two dozen inhabitants. i was glad that at this hour, most of them were asleep.<<endinsertion>>
[[77 hours]]
i tend to get [[restless|ten dozen star systems]].<<later>>\n\nif a drone stays stationary for a period of more than 28 hours, its neural pathways begin to degrade.<<endlater>>
“you’re a real gossip, you know that? it’s kind of a pain.”\n\nCebelrai just looked at me and sat down on one of the cushioned benches facing the center of the room. i let out a sigh and sat down next to them. <<timedreplace 4s>><<gains>>after a moment, i realized that i wanted to [[talk]] about it.<<endtimedreplace>>\n
"hey, CZ, you're on Nuna, right? do you know how my mom's doing? i, um."\n\nmy throat decided i was done talking.\n\n\t“she misses you. and she’ll welcome you, when you’re ready to talk to her. and... i happen to know she’s <<revise a1 "not the only one"end>>.”\n<<insertion a1>>\nmore than anything, that last sentence pushed tears into my eyes. for the tenth time that morning i thought of Izumi, and how <<cyclinglink "she had been my friend" "i had betrayed her" "i didn’t deserve to live">>. \n\n"[[thanks]], CZ."
The Solitary Convert\n\n[[chapter 0- Cebelrai CX44|Cebelrai CX44]]\n[[chapter 1- Sonam|Sonam]]\n[[chapter 2- Sonam|47]]\n[[chapter 3- Sonam|46]]\n\n//by James Shasha\nusing CSS and macros by Leon Arnott\n\nuse your browser's "back" button at any time to go back a page\n\ncontent warning: suicidal ideation, imperialism, bleak shit etc//\n[[printable version (with page numbers) here|https://docs.google.com/document/d/1dkO9248ENhjX2AK-UTUbzPfR47JBJNEUbAEpgNcf8Fo/edit?usp=sharing]]
it wasn’t speculation; Cebelrai knew everything that happened on the station. Cebelrai knew everything that happened in the entire sector, and a lot beyond: they were a collective, a hive-mind spread out over billions of bodies, all thinking and feeling together. they were also the best <<revise a1 "friend"end>> i’d ever had.<<insertion a1>>\n\n“in case you haven’t noticed, i don’t really get along with <<revise a2 "people"end>> the way you do.”\n\nthe dispenser spat a soothing stream of cool, clean water over my head.<<insertion a2>>\n\n“humanoids are okay. it’s computers i can’t stand.”\nthey <<revise a3 "looked over at me"end>> as i wiped the water off.<<insertion a3>>\n\n“speaking of which. i heard what happened. [[are you okay]]?”<<endinsertion>><<endinsertion>><<endinsertion>>\n
<<timedreplace .6s>><<gains>><<replace>>“hey there.”<<gains>>\nsomehow, i was never surprised when Cebelrai snuck up on me like this.\n\n“you know, <<revise a1 "being friends with you" end>> is like being friends with the walls. i just can’t get away from you.”<<insertion a1>>\n\nCebelrai <<revise x "laughed"end>>, displaying a row of smooth, flat teeth. i was still sitting with my back to the air recycler, focusing on the sensation of sweat slowly evaporating off my skin.<<insertion x>>\n\n“humanoids are always telling me that. [[CZ7|Cebelrai]], they say, why must you be constantly everywhere at once? but they don’t know how to listen when i answer.”\n\nthey helped me up and i <<revise a2 "walked over"end>> to a water dispenser.<<insertion a2>>\n\n“why do you run here, anyway? there’s plenty of exercise machines in the health tower. you’re the [[only person]] who uses these levels.”<<endinsertion>><<endinsertion>><<endinsertion>><<endreplace>><<endtimedreplace>>
the residential column of spire S929 is a warren of <<revise a1 "derelict" end>> plastic apartments. to the north, the rooms are open to a chasm where a turbolift shaft once lay. sheathes of ice flowers accumulate around the edges of the failing ion shielding.<<insertion a1>>\n\ni can [[remember]] a time at the start of this century when the coiled streets of the mid-hive swarmed with the cubicled lives of the intern nobility.<<endinsertion>>
with four hands, Cebelrai gently rubbed my back. my tension immediately started to melt.\n\n\t“<<revise a1 "of course" end>>. i should let you finish your run.”\n\n\ta starship blinked across the window. after a moment, i stood up and stretched and wiped the tears off my face.\n\t<<insertion a1>>\n“actually, do you wanna [[join me]]? i was only gonna do a few more laps.”<<endinsertion>>\n\t
i shook my head and tried to say “no,” but my mouth wouldn’t <<replace>>cooperate.<<gains>>\n\nthe supervisor hastily disconnected with an idiotic “thanks so much,” no doubt relieved to return to his peaceful world of solitary bureaucracy. the holoscreen blinked off, leaving me [[alone]] in the close, dark air.<<endreplace>>
“...but when i asked her, Pema <<revise a1 "insisted" end>> that she had nothing to do with it! it’s plain see to that Pasang is lying. truthfully, this isn’t the first time she’s been seen walking alone to the north monastery.”<<insertion a1>>\n\n“Dolkar, you are growing senile! leave the poor girl alone- Pasang takes herself far too seriously to forget her celibacy”\n\nthe fan sputtered and stopped turning. Dolkar and Tashi were too busy [[laughing]] to notice.<<endinsertion>>
<<timedreplace 2s>><<gains>>on the holoscreen, my supervisor fidgeted with his collar again. his eyes kept glancing upward, away from the lens, and i knew he was staring at the blue arrow tattooed on my bare head.\n\n<<replace>>“Yes, well, you see…”<<gains>> he began aimlessly, trying [[desperately]] to pretend he knew what he was doing. <<endreplace>><<endtimedreplace>>
<<timedreplace 2s>><<gains>>when i first come across it, the 19-exobyte packet of information offers no indication that it will ultimately lead to my <<revise a1 "death"end>>.<<insertion a1>>\n\ni'm in an apartment in <<revision a2>>municipal spire S929<<becomes>>[[municipal spire S929]]<<endrevision>>. the familiar taste of argon blistering off the tetryon storms greets <<revise a2 "my lungs" end>> with icy wind.<<insertion a2>>\n\nat this altitude, the sky turns to a frothing slush of frozen radiation blasting across the bottom of Nuna’s stratosphere, 44 kilometers above the desolate surface.<<endinsertion>><<endinsertion>><<endtimedreplace>>
19 billion gigabytes of licensing records, decades-old financial data, and census reports. \n\nit must have wound up down here by accident, landing short of some lost connection, bleeding out into the wastes of the netstreams. i salvage it and mark it <<revise a1 "for sale"end>>.<<insertion a1>>\n\nwithin milliseconds, swarms of unseen bots scan the package, wiring the sale information to their distant employers.\n\noutside, on the other side of the storm, the moon rises.\n\n[[<<<|Start]]<<endinsertion>>
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“of all the things i’ve done, i didn’t think working the net was going to <<revise a1 "bite me in the ass" end>> like this.”<<insertion a1>>\n\n“hey, come on. there’s still plenty of time for them to find out about the treason, extortion, and <<revise a2 "espionage"end>>.”<<endinsertion>>\n<<insertion a2>>\ni knew it was a joke. but suddenly my throat was <<revise a3 "closing"end>> again.<<insertion a3>>\n\n“i keep telling myself that things are changing, that i’m changing. i stopped spying. i got out of Lotus. but every fucking <<revise a4 "time-"end>>”<<insertion a4>>\n\nthey cut me off with a silent hug. I looked up and saw another Cebelrai walk in, the same grey eyes smiling kindly at me from two places at once. they sat down on my other side, joining the embrace. For a minute, we watched the little planet [[rise]] above the moon below.<<endinsertion>><<endinsertion>><<endinsertion>><<endinsertion>>
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the 6,000 year-old bridges and courtyards hanging from the valley’s underside were still mostly empty, save for a few <<revise a1 "nuns" end>> heading to prayer-call.<<insertion a1>>\n\nall wore the same simple garments and blue air nomad [[tattoos]]. Tashi joked with the familiar faces as she <<revise a2 "passed"end>>. their laughter rose against the shrill scream of the unseen thoroughfares and the lingering pieces of sleep in their throats.<<insertion a2>>\n\nshe did not follow them to the halls of the south monastery. instead, she climbed a narrow stone [[stair]] that lead up towards the underside of the cliff.<<endinsertion>><<endinsertion>>
the sun was mirroring through gaps in the housing ridge by the time she reached the low grassy ledge that was her favorite meditation spot. pulling the incense from her sleeve, she began a wordless prayer.\n\n[[<<<|Start]]
[[46 hours]]
[[47 hours]]
<<timedreplace 1.5s>><<gains>><<insert "the atrium was too warm.">> \n\nTashi was sitting cross-legged behind the wooden table that functioned as the museum’s reception desk. it was midday, and the westerly wind carried [[hot air]] up from the ash wastes to bake the stone temple, sandwiched between the cliff and the housing megastructures.<<endinsertion>><<endtimedreplace>>
[[50 hours]]
most drones are with friends. one third are sleeping. half are in [[transit]]. all of them think and feel as one.<<later>>\n\n[[two million]] of me are here in spire S929, and they are my sister, CX44. this one has just woken up, and is curled into a [[computer terminal]], squinting at the nearest screens. the glow from the interface reef blinks through the stifling darkness.<<endlater>>
if i pushed and pulled [[the air|lungs]] just right, i could launch myself across the station's gravity plates, wind cushioning my fall.
<<timedreplace 2s>><<gains>>this late in the day cycle, the station’s interwoven promenades were even emptier than usual. as i [[ran]], sections of pink lighting flickered to life ahead of me. <<endtimedreplace>>
The Solitary Convert
over the fuzzy hologram, the tiny benders threw gusts of fire at each other. the defending team was losing- only their earthbender remained in the ring. the friends’ laughter gave way to the lazy drone from the <<insert "thoroughfare.">>\n\nfor no reason at all, Tashi decided to try calling me when her workday was over.\n\n[[<<<|Start]]<<endinsert>>
“it’s true that your records sheet for the past three months is, well, satisfactory, <<revise a1 "but-"end>>”<<insertion a1>> he was clearly bewildered. \n\ni guessed that he hadn’t enough time to prepare himself for employee interaction. after a moment, he decided on some <<replace>>suitable words:<<gains>> “in light of this apparent.. [[history of impropriety]].. it’s not in our hands.”<<endreplace>><<endinsertion>>
the crimson light of the holoscreen unseals itself. with the keyboard, <<revise a1 "i" end>> shuttle it along digital pathways into the canyon of [[computers]] that i've stretched across the miles of empty apartments below.<<insertion a1>>\n\nthis two million of me, CX44, clinging to the same spire of city against the empty stars, is the only sister i have who can use machines without my mind turning all to fraying static. for decades, i’ve been trawling the vast tides of information sent across the [[decaying netstreams]].<<endinsertion>>
in the ancient tradition, air nomads were ceremonially tattooed with blue arrows along the arms, spine, and forehead to designate mastery of the airbending arts.\n\nduring the recently-ended 300-year-reign of the Royal Corporate Meritocracy, air nomad culture was bought and sold and mass-produced across the quadrant until it was distorted beyond recognition.\n\nthough the airbending arts were still practiced in the Meritocracy, the ability to bend elements became less and less common. i could count myself among a small number of active airbenders. \n\nfor my mother and most of the monks at the temple, the tattoos were a symbol of an idealized Nuna, a glorified spiritual purity that had long ago been <<revise a1 "stamped out" end>> by genocide and oppression.<<insertion a1>>\n\ndid it occur to them that their tattoos would have been seen as deep sacrilege to the air nomads who built this [[temple|sandals]]?<<endinsertion>>
her robes didn’t help. though they were loose-fitting, the traditional //kasaya// were designed for a cooler planet than Nuna had become. visitors to the small <<revise a1 "museum"end>> were few, but they always expected to see air nomads in the traditional clothes.<<insertion a1>>\n\nthe atrium was a long room, open to the precipitous sky (and the thundering roar of traffic), with a rectangular reflecting pool running from the <<revise a2 "temple doors"end>> where my mother sat to the meager transit station at the far end. her friend Dolkar reclined next to her. behind them, a mural depicting a herd of frolicing air bison stretched to the vaulted rafters. <<insertion a2>>\n\nDolkar’s portable holoscreen faithfully displayed a miniature pro-bending match for the flies buzzing above the desk. next to the holoscreen, a replicated metal fan blew hot air feebly towards the two women. it was a slow business day (as usual), and only a half-dozen visitors had checked in. Dolkar was filling Tashi in on the [[morning’s gossip|gossip]]. <<endinsertion>><<endinsertion>>
as a young [[boy]], i would crawl into vents in the corners of the starbase where my family lived to test my newfound airbending ability on the [[push-pull|part of my body]] of atmosphere recyclers. i came to love moving air like it was part of my body. one day i got carried away by the sensation, and got caught after causing extensive damage to a fan system like this one. the memory still made me grimace.<<later>>\n\ni steadied myself against the [[recycler]] with a sudden wave of nausea.<<endlater>>
i was sitting in my workplace, a closet retrofitted with a secondhand holodesk, adjoining my equally tiny living quarters aboard Lunar Station Seventeen. i feigned patience and watched the sweating little man console himself as he [[fired me]].
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“Sonam, <<revise a1 "listen"end>>.”\n\tthey spoke very quietly, with both their voices at once, in perfect unison. i sniffled and stared out the window. their voice was the most soothing thing i could remember.\n<<insertion a1>>\n“i have a lot of friends. a lot of them are trying to make a new start. like, hundreds of millions of them. exactly <<revise a2 "none" end>> of them are having an easy time of it.”<<endinsertion>>\n<<insertion a2>>\ni let out a croaky laugh and looked at them. in the half-light from the moon below, their identical faces seemed a billion years old.\n\n\t“do you remember, on Idan##a, the summer after you transitioned? you can be -whoever- you want. maybe you don’t believe me, which is okay, but i know you have what it takes, and i know you aren’t [[alone|y]].”<<endinsertion>>
i had met another sister, CL5L, once before, long ago. it was a bizarre experience, like meeting your best friend's identical twin who had always been in the next room.\n\nafterwards, CZ7 explained how the boundaries between different facets of their personality shifted between stars like tides, how they mingled and blurred into one [[Cebelrai|46 hours]]. how, no matter where i went, the sisters there would know me.
the brown replicated cloth was warm but scratchy, and left a dry residue that [[accumulated|tower]] everywhere.
James Shasha
<<timedreplace 2s>><<gains>>my mother, Tashi, <<revise a1 "awoke" end>> early in the grey light before dawn. from the window, the ever-present wailing of the atmosphere processors mingled with the first deafening refrains of traffic.<<insertion a1>>\n\nshe clambered up from the simple mat where she slept and shuffled across the bare stone floor. chewing a hygiene capsule, she stared sleepily out into the [[dim morning]].<<endinsertion>><<endtimedreplace>>
<<revise a1 "Izumi"end>>.<<insertion a1>> on top of all this, Izumi was coming home. the thought eclipsed my brain back into silence, until all i could feel was the familiar crush of [[regret|away]].<<endinsertion>>
a lone delivery hovervan ambled past, beeping shrilly between the inverted stone towers of the <<replace>>western air temple museum.<<gains>>\n\nfrom her [[tower]], she could see across the entire complex to the northern end, where the cliffside was eaten up by the massive shadow of the distant housing ring. beyond it were the shorelines and ash wastes of the northern mainland, hopelessly dwarfed by the gleaming needles of the polar megacity. the growing light smeared the still air with a bluish haze.<<endreplace>>
the rush of blood in my ears didn't completely drown out the echoes of my supervisor's <<insert "words.">>\n\ni ran [[faster|hallways]].<<endinsert>>
he mispronounced my name, stretching the second syllable to rhyme with [["ham"|history of impropriety]].
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i don’t, of course, recognize its significance <<replace>>yet -<<gains>> <<replace>>how can i -<<gains>> but it could be valuable so i claw it out of the grubby transmission and let the computers chew at the <<revise a1 "security codes"end>>.<<insertion a1>><<timedreplace 2s>>.<<becomes>>..<<becomes>>[[...|gust]]<<endtimedreplace>><<endinsertion>><<endreplace>><<endreplace>>
only two million out of the ninety million Cebelrai on this planet are CX44. in this area of [[space|ten dozen star systems]], the vast majority of me are my sister CZ7.
now only me and the sealgulls inhabit the rusting midsection of the vast polar capital. those who were able have long since moved on to higher levels of the towering city. \n\n[[others fell]].
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a particularly strong gust of wind blows a squall of ionized clay through an outage in the apartment’s shielding.<<timedreplace 4.7s>><<becomes>>\n\nthe package’s neural wall collapses, and i read the [[contents]].<<endtimedreplace>>
it wasn't until much later, until after i had left home, that i learned to see myself as someone else. \n\n<<replace>>"boy"<<gains>> became <<replace>>"thing," <<gains>>then eventually <<replace>>"girl"<<gains>> and [["woman"|lungs]].<<endreplace>><<endreplace>><<endreplace>>
tirelessly filtering through the [[netstreams|computer terminal]], looking for anything worth finding.
after all, over a decade had [[passed|history of impropriety]] since i earned a living selling myself with a dataport.
the back of my throat hardened. when i was applying for this data analysis job for the Nunari Interim Government, i couldn’t exactly put “[[net-girl]]” on my resume. but the evidence of that particular past life had been well-hidden.<<later>>\n\nthe supervisor finally remembered his <<revise a1 "lines" end>>.<<insertion a1>>\n\n“so, [[Sonam|name]], i’m afraid you are being docked two pay levels, and you’ll be immediately re-assigned. do you have any more [[questions]] for me at this time?”<<endinsertion>><<endlater>>
<<timedreplace 4s>>i was pretty sure Cebelrai’s drones didn’t require exercise. but they both smiled at me, and said, “okay, why not” and we headed off for the far side of the station. behind us, the lights flickered off.<<gains>>\n\n[[<<<|Start]]
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“you hag- don’t remind me! we both know i just wish Pasang would sneak out to visit <<revise a1 "me"end>>!”<<insertion a1>>\n\nof course Tashi knew she was kidding. Dolkar took her celibacy quite as seriously as the other nuns. but they often joked like this; in the years since Dolkar arrived, they’d learned to use each other’s laughter to shore up the divide between their lives at the <<insert "temple,">> and what came [[before]].<<endinsert>><<endinsertion>>
i sank to the floor, clawing at my pocket-com for a <<revise h "distraction">>:<<cycle h>><<gains>>\n\n<<timedreplace .7s>><<gains>>-financial crisis grips economies across former NMC<<endtimedreplace>><<timedreplace 1.5s>><<gains>>\n-failing replicators blamed for energy debt<<endtimedreplace>><<timedreplace 1.9s>><<gains>>\n-Starfleet admiral T’Zora to give statement<<endtimedreplace>><<becomes>>\n<<timedreplace .2s>><<gains>>\n-pro-earthbender Shu acquitted in sexual assault trial<<endtimedreplace>><<timedreplace .4s>><<gains>>\n-president Okeg to Nuna: “the Federation will stand with you”<<endtimedreplace>><<timedreplace 1.1s>><<gains>>\n-Interim minister Sato responds to allegations<<endtimedreplace>><<becomes>>\n<<timedreplace .3s>><<gains>>\n[[-Orys finally confirms: the Avatar is alive|the Avatar]]<<endtimedreplace>><<timedreplace .9s>><<gains>>\n-tensions mount in aftermath of Narazq attacks<<endtimedreplace>><<timedreplace 1.1s>><<gains>>\n-11 rising outworld pro-bending champs<<endtimedreplace>><<timedreplace 1.9s>><<gains>>\n-Sato proposes bailout<<endtimedreplace>><<becomes>>\n<<timedreplace .4s>><<gains>>\n-//Kyoshi// prepares for launch ceremony<<endtimedreplace>><<timedreplace 1.1s>><<gains>>\n-the Orion Syndicate is revealing its strategy on key outworlds<<endtimedreplace>><<timedreplace 1.6s>><<gains>>\n[[-Federation ambassador hints to Avatar’s whereabouts|the Avatar]]<<endtimedreplace>><<timedreplace 1.8s>><<gains>>\n-why is pro-bending so popular on Andoria?<<endtimedreplace>><<endcycle>>
the modular hallway sections opened into a crescent-shaped observation room ringed with benches covered in decaying plastic cushions. <<revise a1 "somewhere" end>> above the low ceiling sat the station’s central spire. below the grated floor, a huge window filled the room with moonlight.<<insertion a1>>\n\nmy head hurt from running so i stopped in front of an ancient atmosphere recycler to catch my breath. the cold tasteless air filled my [[lungs]] with a quiet hum, and i felt the recycler pull at the ventilation arteries of the massive station.<<endinsertion>>
i feel and watch myself wake up in the gloom, blinking plastic dust from <<revise a1 "this drone"end>>’s eyes.<<insertion a1>>\n\ni'm known as <<revise a2 "Cebelrai" end>>. this drone has two of my nine billion eyes. like every other drone, it stands on two legs to a height of 1.7 meters, has two arms and pale lavender skin. it consumes only trace amounts of matter, and is highly durable.<<insertion a2>>\n\naround me, i’m breathing and sleeping and staring into quiet red screens. around me, i’m departing on starships bound for other parts of myself. \n\ni am living here in spire S929, and also along the surface of Nuna far below, and also across the closest [[ten dozen star systems]].<<endinsertion>><<endinsertion>>
the nets are awash with unparseable noise, the digital wake of a dead empire. the <<revise a1 "scraps" end>> of data that i am able to scavenge are usually barely worth enough to maintain my habitation rights to the residential tower.<<insertion a1>>\n\ntoday, a quiet chime draws my attention. the computer wants me to know it has found a possible <<revise a2 "data reservoir" end>>.<<insertion a2>>\n\nlying inconspicuously among several quintillion fragments of ancient ledgers and fuel logs gleams a nugget of glossy encryption, remarkably intact. \n\nit’s [[nineteen exobytes]] thick, and has been adrift for only six years. it’s unusual for me to find such a large amount of recent information.<<endinsertion>><<endinsertion>>
Tashi spat into the meager plastic sink. she pulled plain [[garments]] over her hunched, tattooed frame. the chronogram fixed to the wall read <<replace>>21%<<gains>>; she didn't have to open the museum for five more hours. \n\nshe took a stick of incense and a prayer bell from the room’s simple altar and tied her [[sandals]].<<endreplace>>
“according to the interim government’s employment policies, i’ve been docked two pay levels because of my <<revision a1>>‘history of impropriety’<<becomes>>[['history of impropriety'|x]]<<endrevision>>. they’re only reassigning me because i came highly recommended from Lotus, which scares the shit out of them.”\n\nCebelrai ruffled the feathery white plastic that grew on their head. below us, <<revise a1 "Nuna" end>> slowly crested the domed cities on the moon’s horizon. <<insertion a1>>from Lunar Seventeen the planet looked smaller than a coin, rusty greenish brown through the polarized aluminum window.<<endinsertion>>