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<h1 class="button">[[Sun-Day|Sun-Day1-1]]</h1><<cacheaudio "fan" "audio/fan.mp3">><<cacheaudio "watchslow" "audio/watchalarmslow.mp3">><<cacheaudio "watchfast" "audio/watchalarmfast.mp3">><<cacheaudio "watchshort" "audio/watchnotification.mp3">><<cacheaudio "crowd" "audio/smallcrowdlowpass.mp3">><<cacheaudio "fanquiet" "audio/fanlowpass.mp3">><<cacheaudio "vibrate" "audio/PhoneVibrate.mp3">><<cacheaudio "chomp" "audio/Crunch.mp3">><<cacheaudio "WatchChorus" "audio/watchchorus.mp3">><<cacheaudio "WatchChorusEnd" "audio/WatchChorusEnd.mp3">><<cacheaudio "KnockKnock" "audio/KnockKnock.mp3">><<cacheaudio "Knock" "audio/Knock.mp3">><<cacheaudio "KnockFinal" "audio/KnockFinal.mp3">><<cacheaudio "venice" "audio/Venice4.mp3">><<cacheaudio "roof" "audio/SoftWind.mp3">><<set $mc to 0>><<set $hc to 0>><<set $lie to 0>><<set $search to 0>><<set $read to 0>><<set $funeral to 0>><<set $nosound to 0>><<set $look to 0>><<script>>$('<div id="right-side-bar"></div>').appendTo(document.body);<</script>><<set $day to "Sun-Day">><<set $time to "Stay Indoors">><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "roof" loop volume 0.3 play>><<if $play isnot 1>><<audio "watchslow" loop volume 0.1 play>><<else>><<audio "watchfast" loop volume 0.1 play>><</if>><</if>>There is a hole in the sky where the sun once was, but light still shines through the gap in the opaque dome around the city. Shadows seem deeper, and that space of sunny nothing in the sky invites anyone who dares to look. <<if $play isnot 1>>[[You do.|Sun-Day1-2]]<<else>>@@.bb;You@@ do. <<linkreplace "@@.re;It can't be changed.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;It can't be changed.@@ [[If only she knew why you did it.|Tuesday]]<</linkreplace>><</if>><<audio "watchslow" stop>><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "watchfast" loop volume 0.1 play>><</if>><<timed 4s t8n>><<replace "#img1" t8n>>[img[art/lookingupblur.jpg]]<</replace>><</timed>>Three hundred floors up, a briefcase and a leash drop from your hands as your watch beeps frantically. <div class="view" id="img1">[img[art/lookingup.jpg]]</div>@@.bb;You@@ rise to the tips of your toes, back arching, face tilting up, up, up imperious as a queen, a dull grey rod clutched as your scepter. The place-where-the-sun-once-was calls. It does the rest of the work. Your feet leave the ground, but your dog doesn't care as you go up past the interlocked skyscrapers of the city. [[Everyone else is smart enough to stay inside.|Sun-Day1-3]]<<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "watchfast" stop>><</if>>They keep their heads down, wait it out. Then they go back to their days, alarms giving <<linkreplace "@@.re;one last beep across the city.@@" t8n>><<script>>$('body').addClass('shadow-fade')<</script>>@@.re2;one last beep across the city.@@ Three million small screens read: @@.note;It is now safe to resume normal activities.@@<<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "WatchChorusEnd" volume 0.1 play>><</if>> Your abandoned briefcase has ID in it, though the city would have noticed your absence without it. @@.bb;Hiroko Sato@@. The picture is out of date, showing a woman in her fifties, rather than sixties. A difference of less than a decade, [[but that decade has made all the difference.|Sun-Day1-4]]<</linkreplace>> <<set $day to "Tuesday">><h1 class="button">[[Tuesday|Tuesday1-1]]</h1><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "watchfast" stop>><<audio "roof" fadeout>><<audio "fan" loop volume 0 fadeto 0.1>><<set $day to "This Tuesday">><</if>><<set $time to "5:50 PM">>"If I could go," @@.aa;you@@ say, looking up, "what would I find?" Your mother's estate was signed over yesterday, and some part of @@.aa;you@@ tries to tell the other that this is a normal reaction. The funeral was the only significant interaction you've had with her since the last one. And yet. "Loss is a part of life, @@.aa;Mako@@," Priya says. She's your friend—one of the best and oldest @@.aa;you@@ have. "Focus on what you have." She's right, but @@.aa;you@@ say, "Where do they go?" "Up." She makes a farting noise as she points the direction. "Stop being so morbid. You're still young." Twenty-eight, and feeling every year. It's three days until next Sun-day, so @@.aa;you@@ have plenty of time to decide what this actually means to @@.aa;you@@. [[Would Mom have regretted it?|Tuesday1-2][$hc +=1]] / [[Or was it a long time coming?|Tuesday1-2]]<<set $time to "5:52 PM">><<if $hc gt 0>>"Mom would regret it, right?"<<else>>"Why?"<</if>> @@.aa;you@@ ask. Uselessly. "I don't know." Priya shrugs. "Sorry, I'm not as good at this as you." "It's okay." [[`"How about we grab some food?"`|Tuesday1-3]]<<set $time to "6:25 PM">>So, @@.aa;you@@ and Priya go for dinner, but you're looking past her and past the menu and past the food, out at the broken eggshells of the moon on the dirty star-loused carpet of the sky. She talks as @@.aa;you@@ pick away at the lukewarm platter of nachos between you, the cheese, chicken, tomato all dead flavours on your tongue. But what it comes down to is that you've lost three family members on Sun-Day and she's lost none. @@.aa;You@@ appreciate the words she methodically prescribes throughout dinner like pills, but [[you don't hear any of them.|Tuesday2-1]]<<set $day to "Last Tuesday">><<set $time to "7:20 PM">><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "fan" fadeout>><<audio "fanquiet" loop volume 0 fadeto 0.1>><</if>>Last Tuesday, @@.bb;you@@ ate a hot meal in your office. @@.bb;You@@ weren't just the owner of a company about to complete the world's most ambitious engineering experiment. @@.bb;You@@ weren't just a mother of two children who'd gone places you'd never imagined. //@@.bb;You@@ were @@.bb;Hiroko@@//, which was always enough. <<linkreplace "@@.re;Or it had been.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;Or it had been.@@ The meal was steamed beans and a melted-cheese mashed potato, sitting in its skin. The kind of thing @@.bb;you@@ normally enjoyed, and @@.bb;you@@ hadn't eaten since breakfast, papers piled on your desk, but a few mouthfuls were all @@.bb;you@@ could swallow. @@.bb;You@@ give up<<if $hc gt 0>> and [[give the rest to the dog.|Tuesday2-2]]<<else>> and [[throw the rest in the garbage.|Tuesday2-2]]<</if>><</linkreplace>><<set $time to "7:30 PM">><<if $hc gt 0>>The light clink of the plate on the floor woke him, tail wagging for the late-night snack. <</if>>Then @@.bb;you@@ swore. On the desk, a glob of mash had dripped onto a form @@.bb;you@@ were finishing. @@.bb;You@@ ripped it in half without thinking and threw the bits—three hours' worth of your time—on the ground to see if it was at least good enough for the dog, but he only licked it half heartedly. The dome was just two weeks from completion, but right now the paperwork felt insurmountable. A thousand orders to complete, salaries to pay, and the looming question of "What comes next?" that got asked at every board meeting. But that could be no more answered here than it was there. Still, should have printed another form. Should have sent another overdue email. Should have just pushed through and worked for another two or three hours, [[you told yourself on the way home.|Tuesday2-3]]<<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "fanquiet" fadeout>><<audio "fan" loop volume 0 fadeto 0.1>><</if>><<set $day to "This Tuesday">><<set $time to "7:00 PM">>Back at home, @@.aa;you@@ pay all the backed-up bills, neon eviction notice disappearing from your front door, and you're a moment from just moving the hell out. <<if $play isnot true>>It's one bedroom—if a box spring mattress stuck wall-to-wall can be called a bedroom—and one bath—if a shower that works at half pressure and a toilet with green-stained porcelain can be called a bathroom. The living room bleeds into the kitchen, an old wallpaper TV irreparably damaged by the heat of the nearby oven. And you're used to living here, stuck halfway up one of two-hundred identical <<linkreplace "@@.re;climbs.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;climbs.@@ They take their colloquial name from the three hundred floors they tower into the sky, circled by endless staircases. They have dozens of elevators, but everyone has at least one day in their life when the elevators are shot and they're stuck fifty floors from home.<</linkreplace>> <</if>>@@.aa;You@@ decide to stay, though, even if @@.aa;you@@ have the money to move. Oh, do @@.aa;you@@ ever have the money now. It's about seeing the //positives// in death, is what @@.aa;you@@ usually tell your clients. //Thanks, @@.bb;Mom@@//. The thought manages to be [[sincere.|Tuesday1-5][$mc +=1]] / [[frustrated.|Tuesday1-5]]<<set $time to "7:30 PM">><<if $mc gt 0>>The thought is sincere, but it's also tinged with guilt, because what have @@.aa;you@@ ever done to deserve it? There's no shortage of people in this city with real suffering.<<else>>The thought is frustrated. The money is like a child's unwelcome clap halfway into the final act to say, "Look, I made the final effort, and you'll never beat it." You'd rather burn it than spend it, when the bills aren't due.<</if>> But even considering the shoe box @@.aa;you@@ live in, @@.aa;you@@ got lucky, living on the 100th floor. Your floor has a <<linkreplace "@@.re;skyway.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;skyway@@—they're only every twenty-five floors and connect surrounding buildings. The cheap paint on their blocky exteriors makes them no more like the golden gate bridges they'd like to mimic. Sea level was the other option. But it's too long of a trek down when you'd just have to go back up for your job.<</linkreplace>> [[Focus on the positive.|Tuesday1-6]]<<set $time to "7:40 PM">>@@.aa;You@@ flip on the burnt TV and try to relax. When teaching people to deal with grief, @@.aa;you@@ tell them four things to get through the first week—if they can get through the first, they almost always make it through the year. <<if $play isnot true>><ol style="padding-left: 3em"><li>Find support in friends and family</li> <li>Be honest with yourself!</li> <li>Keep busy</li> <li>Sleep</li></ol> <</if>>In its own way, the shitty apartment is like family. It's creaky and consistent and too much bother to ever leave behind. So that's one step. @@.aa;You@@ can follow one more and [[go to bed.|Tuesday1-7]]<<set $time to "11:00 PM">>As @@.aa;you@@ fall asleep, a letter—yes, an ink-and-paper letter—slips under the front door. It's filled with a great many filling words ranging from kind greetings to vague introductions and farewells, and it has two very important sentences, all signed off with the letter "@@.type;I@@." [[Maybe you'll see it tomorrow.|Wednesday]] <<set $day to "Wednesday">><h1 class="button">[[Wednesday|Wednesday1-1]]</h1><<set $time to "12:13 PM">><<set $day to "This Wednesday">>"So, where do you want to eat today? My treat," Priya says from the other end of the line. It's two days until yet another Sun-Day, though it's hard to believe how frequent they've become. At least they keep @@.aa;you@@ in a job. You've called out of work again today. @@.aa;You@@ want to be alone even if, in theory, @@.aa;you@@ know better. Maybe it will make @@.aa;you@@ feel better. <<linkreplace "@@.re;Maybe you'll stop being angry.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;Maybe you'll@@ clean up the shattered picture frame in the corner of your bedroom.<</linkreplace>> @@.aa;You@@ laugh woodenly. At least you've got the friend down. "My treat. And it's whatever you want." She sighs. [[`"All right, Takkin's?"`|Wednesday1-2]]<<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "crowd" fadeout>><<audio "fan" fadeout>><<audio "fanquiet" loop volume 0 fadeto 0.1>><</if>><<set $time to "11:29 AM">><<set $day to "Last Wednesday">>Last Wednesday, @@.bb;you@@ went to the Library. It was hard to believe it had been three years since @@.bb;you@@ lost your husband. Another two since then that @@.bb;you@@ lost your sons.<<if $hc gt 1>> At least @@.bb;you@@ gained a daughter, even if @@.bb;you@@ didn't know her like @@.bb;you@@ should. Would she be lost next?<</if>> The use of the word "lost" in your mind was very intentional. They weren't //dead//. <<if $funeral is 0>>That's what you'd been thinking when your son was lost. That's what @@.bb;you@@ //said// when your husband was lost, too. But @@.aa;Mako@@<<if $hc lt 2>> (or Shun—he'd still been Shun then)<</if>> had cut your tearful eulogy short at the funeral.<<if $hc gte 1>> You'd tried to call <<if $hc is 1>>them<<else>>her<</if>> after that, but <<if $hc is 1>>they<<else>>she<</if>> never picked up.<<else>> You'd talked it through after, even if <<if $hc lte 1>>they<<else>>she<</if>> didn't understand.<</if>><<else>> Anyway, your family had a long history of open-casket funerals. There'd been no point in going without one.<</if>> //Where were they?// [[You hoped to find out.|Wednesday2-2]] <<set $day to "Thursday">><h1 class="button">[[Thursday|Thursday1-1]]</h1><<set $time to "12:34 PM">><<set $day to "This Thursday">><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "fanquiet" fadeout>><<audio "crowd" fadeout>><<audio "fan" loop volume 0 fadeto 0.1>><</if>>@@.aa;You@@ call work in the morning. Well, it's past noon, but it feels like morning. The tinted window in your room has a long streak that stopped changing months ago, guiding light into your eyes around 1 PM every god damn day. It works far better than any alarm clock could. "I'm sorry—can I. Just—" "This isn't paid leave." "Of course not, Justin. I'll be back soon," @@.aa;you@@ promise your boss. Yourself. Keep busy. "We're understaffed." "I'll be back." "Good." Then Justin's voice softens. "But you can come in, even if it's not for work," he says. But it wasn't an offer your mother ever took, [[so why should you?|Thursday1-2]]<<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "fan" fadeout>><<audio "fanquiet" loop volume 0 fadeto 0.1>><</if>><<set $time to "5:12 PM">><<set $day to "Last Thursday">>Last Thursday, @@.bb;you@@ were at home, and your dog snuffled at your hand hungrily, waiting for lunch. <<linkreplace "@@.re;You were busy turning a silver rod over in your hands.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;No, not silver. Gray@@, @@.bb;you@@ thought, the word having momentarily escaped @@.bb;you@@. It was dull and industrial with a massive screw in one flat end, the other capped with a smooth glass dome a little bigger than your thumb, the entire rod no longer than your forearm.<</linkreplace>> "Ow! Okay, one moment." @@.bb;You@@ rubbed at your elbow, put down the rod, and wandered over to the cupboard to get him some food. You'd never named the dog, probably because there was a level of responsibility required once you name something. <<if $hc gt 2>>And, despite your best efforts, you'd proven yourself unable to bear that responsibility. Five years later, and @@.bb;you@@ still struggled to lay to rest the last name you'd given.<<else>>At least the dog could never outgrow @@.bb;you@@—at least @@.bb;you@@ could never still get its name wrong, five years later.<</if>> With the dish full, [[you went back to the sitting room.|Thursday2-2]] <<if $lie is 1>><<script>>$('body').addClass('icarus')<</script>><<else>><<script>>$('body').addClass('mako')<</script>><</if>><<set $day to "Sun-Day">><h1 class="button">[[Sun-Day|Sun-Day2-1-1]]</h1><<set $time to "12:20 PM">>Takkin's is a mid-floor place, pretty good. Somewhat cheap, so @@.aa;you@@ approve, hang up, get dressed. <<linkreplace "@@.re;Damn.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;Damn.@@ Leaving the apartment, @@.aa;you@@ step past the letter, because no one keeps an eye out for mysterious letters in 2118. Not in San Francisco, anyway. It was more of a New York thing, when the city was still around. Still, there's two very important sentences. One that says @@.aa;you@@ should go to the 15th floor of the Library, and another that says your mother is alive. [[Tomorrow you'll see it, definitely.|Wednesday1-3]]<</linkreplace>><<set $time to "12:25 PM">>Priya lives on the same climb, 112th floor, so @@.aa;you@@ have to wait a few minutes for her to negotiate the elevators and meet @@.aa;you@@ at the entrance to the skyway on the 100th floor. It's a calm time of day, the sun shining through the transparent, nearly finished dome. There's no shouldering past people, just cleaners and kids skipping classes, treating the skyways like playgrounds. @@.aa;You@@ look like a couple, walking arm-in-arm across the skyway, but you're not. You've talked about it, tried it on like an awkward powdered wig to appear presentable in public, but discarded it as something that isn't //you//. <<linkreplace "@@.re;\"Shouldn't you be working today?\"@@" t8n>><<set $time to "12:28 PM">><<updatebar>>@@.re2;"Shouldn't you be working today?"@@ @@.aa;you@@ ask. It's a bit like breaching unseen depths to ask the question, which is all the more reason to keep yourself talking. You're already circling the next building to its eastern skyway, which will take you to the climb Takkin's is in. "Eh, shouldn't you?" "I called the day off." It's even true. "Then let's say I did too." <<if $mc gt 0>>"Pri, I might be set, but you can't afford—" The raised voice is coming out. Bad look. "Relax." She pats your arm, and @@.aa;you@@ try not to feel patronized. <<else>>"Hm. Sure." @@.aa;You@@ appreciate it, though. <</if>>"I could take a year off and they'd still want me working up there." "Lucky you." Your mom knew how to make jobs, if nothing else. [[You're grateful she helped someone.|Wednesday1-4][$mc +=1]] / [[You're angry she never helped you.|Wednesday1-4]]<</linkreplace>><<set $time to "12:33 PM">><<if ($mc lte 1) and ($hc gt 0)>>She'd been the one to call @@.aa;you@@ last. You'd been the one to not pick up. <</if>><<linkreplace "@@.re;In time with one another, watches beep from each and every person scattering the skyway.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;Your watch screen flashes an update to the Sun-Day forecast:@@ @@.note;//Avoid areas between the 157th and 159th climb between 12:45 and 12:51 PM this Friday. Watch for further updates.//@@<<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "watchshort" volume 0.1 play>><</if>><</linkreplace>> <<if $play isnot true>>There is an overhead view of San Francisco on the screen, the edges of the dome lightly sketched in, but the prominent feature is the yellow isosceles triangle overlaid on the indicated area, fitting neatly where the dome has yet to be completed. Compared to the whole city, it's a tiny slice. <</if>>Priya barely glances at her watch<<if $mc gte 1>>, instead gently dragging @@.aa;you@@ to the side so @@.aa;you@@ don't run head first into a cleaner's cart<<else>>. Together, you side-step the cleaner's cart coming down the skyway<</if>>. It's manned but moves with all the self-awareness of an inland freight train. [[`"Turn,"`|Wednesday1-5]] she says<<if $mc gte 2>> as @@.aa;you@@ brainlessly try to keep walking to the next skyway<</if>>.<<set $time to "12:36 PM">><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "crowd" loop volume 0 fadeto 0.5>><</if>>The turn brings you to the elevators of a highly-commercialized climb, the fact that the elevators run smoothly speaking to its prosperity. Where the residentials were calm, the commercial is booming, forcing @@.aa;you@@ to negotiate your way between people in some ridiculous dance as @@.aa;you@@ and Priya try to stay side-by-side. But finally, you're twenty floors down at Takkin's, the walk taking a period of time that wasn't worth registering as too much or too little. [[`"I'm sorry."`|Wednesday1-6]]<<set $time to "12:38 PM">>"I'm sorry," @@.aa;you@@ say, and focus on Priya in your grungy booth at Takkin's, a hand idly clasped on the plastic table. Be honest. "I should know better—I swear I was never like this with Dad or…" @@.aa;You@@ sigh. "I'm here now. Let's talk." "She was the last family you had," Priya says in a serious tone that is nevertheless a morbid parody of what @@.aa;you@@ say to people weekly. @@.aa;You@@ snort. <<if $mc is 0>>@@.bb;Mom@@ was barely anything.<<else>>@@.bb;Mom@@ was something.<</if>> [[Anyway, Priya moves on to lighter conversation.|Wednesday1-66]]<<set $time to "12:40 PM">><<if $funeral is 1>>And that had been before things got bad. Neither @@.aa;you@@ nor dad had ever asked her about it, though. Everyone had been walking on eggshells, afraid to say who might be right or wrong.<<if $mc lt 1>> It's easy now.<</if>><<else>>@@.bb;Mom@@ had once offered @@.aa;you@@ a job<<if $mc lte 1>>, and it had felt as backhanded as the money does now.<<else>>, and you'd only lasted a week before burning out because you just didn't have the same drive she did. The feeling is certainly relevant to what Priya is saying.<</if>> Could @@.aa;you@@ have done more? Should @@.aa;you@@?<</if>> Of course, those are useless thoughts. The only one of meaning is the two words "move on" branded in your brain like a mantra that smokes and burns. "Set a new benchmark," Priya continues. "It goes up like exponential growth. On to infinity. And it can be infinitely broken in halves. This buck I've got is half as much as I could have, but that's half as much as I—" @@.aa;You@@ smack her hand. "Oh, yeah. Eating today?" Priya jerks her head to the waiter waiting at the end of your table, a small stylus over a pad. The face is familiar, but neither of you actually know the guy's name, his name tag hidden behind a pudgy arm. "Pancakes." @@.aa;You@@ say it decisively, stabbing a finger down on the table, a promise to yourself of a fresh start. The waiter nods absently, scribbling it on the pad. "And hash browns," @@.aa;you@@ add. Priya looks conflicted for a moment, then shrugs. "Can I get some stuffed chicken? And two coffees? Yeah, two coffees. Please." The waiter finishes scribbling, nods, [[then wanders away to get your coffees.|Wednesday1-8]]<<set $time to "12:42 PM">>"Having money sure does suck," @@.aa;you@@ say sarcastically, picking up the conversation. "But I get it. I've had half a day off, and I'm not even sure what I'm doing. Would it be cheap to say I just want something to matter?" "Your job does matter. More than putting up big-ass panes of glass and—" "What you do matters way more than what I do," @@.aa;you@@ cut in. "You're making a safe future. I'm just dealing with fucked up pasts that never should have happened." She's momentarily silent, but before @@.aa;you@@ can apologize, she says, "You're making sure that someone still has a future." It's just too much. The pancake-calm is already <<if $mc gte 2>>being turned soggy with grief<<else>>giving way to frustration<</if>>. Why is this your world? Why was @@.bb;she@@ even necessary? <<if $mc is 0>>//Stay busy//, a calmer part tells @@.aa;you@@. "Do you want to travel? It'll be my treat, too." Taken aback, Priya almost looks like she's going to nod, but then she shakes her head. "All right, I can't skip that many days of work." "No worries, I didn't really have anywhere in mind yet." [[Maybe it's for the best.|Wednesday2-1]]<<else>>"I just wish I could have heard one last word," @@.aa;you@@ say. [[`"If only so I could know if she'd ever cared."`|Wednesday2-1]]<</if>><<set $time to "11:32 AM">>It was the very first Sun-Day when you'd lost your first son and—God—there'd been no knowing where or why for days. //Days//. <<if $funeral is 0>>@@.bb;You@@ can't help but think that if you hadn't given him that job, he wouldn't have even been out that day.<<if $hc gte 1>> You're almost grateful Shu—@@.aa;Mako@@ never had the brains for it in the first place.<</if>> <</if>>It's easy to tell now with the watch on your wrist (on everyone's wrists). It's not much different from your initial design: a pulsing red LED and crude GPS to let some government office know they have a family to inform because its wearer had gone off... somewhere, far past the dome. [[As you approached the Library, it beeps.|Wednesday2-3]]<<set $time to "11:33 AM">><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "watchshort" volume 0.1 play>><</if>>@@.note;//Avoid areas between the 120th and 123rd climb between 4:29 and 4:33 PM this Friday. Watch for further updates.//@@ Two days. <<timed 3s t8n>>Your heart caught—sooner the better<<if $hc gte 1>>, though that's not a lot of time to figure out how to explain it to @@.aa;Mako@@<<if $hc gte 2>> (can you really do this to her?)<</if>><</if>>.<<next 4s>><<goto "Wednesday2-4">><</timed>><<set $time to "11:35 AM">>The Library is formally the 150th climb, and @@.bb;you@@ entered it at the 250th floor (your floor), a few skyways away from home on the 200th climb. It was a nice walk, and your dog would be mad to have missed it, but big "NO DOGS ALLOWED" signs on every skyway to the Library have warded him off. It's full 300 floors of—well, not books, but that's the idea. Just rows and rows of cubicles with those off-white holo-screen terminals that flickered and sputtered, a decade out of date. The closest thing it had ever had to stacks were the data-farms every twenty floors. And, despite its grungy appearance, there's something about the quietness upon entering that made @@.bb;you@@ feel like you're underwater in the nicest way possible, the dull drone of air conditioning units and groan of building supports an echo of the ever-present whistling wind. Of course, all those thoughts kept @@.bb;you@@ from actually going past the doorway until an impatient man in a second-hand suit coughed politely <<linkreplace "@@.re;for the third time.@@" t8n>><<set $time to "11:38 AM">><<updatebar>>@@.re2;for the third time.@@ @@.bb;You@@ finally entered. <<if $hc lt 1>>The climb hadn't seen more than your name on a donation plaque for years. Which floor was it on?<<else>>It was probably the first time since you'd helped @@.aa;Mako@@ on <<if $hc gte 1>>his<<else>>her<</if>> final high school project, at least a decade ago.<</if>> //Move, @@.bb;Hiroko@@//, your thoughts pushed again. This wasn't about the Library. [[Just the 15th floor.|Wednesday2-5]]<</linkreplace>><<set $time to "11:59 AM">>The soft-starting elevator of the climb took a quarter of an hour to get down to the 15th, people getting on and off constantly, giving @@.bb;you@@ weird looks. Finally, @@.bb;you@@ were at another floor of cubicles, except a little darker and a lot dirtier. This far down, they could open the windows and let the waves wash it clean. @@.bb;You@@ almost laughed out loud at the thought, until @@.bb;you@@ saw a hand waving at @@.bb;you@@ from one of the cubicles. <<linkreplace "@@.re;Walk toward it.@@" t8n>><<set $time to "12:03 PM">><<updatebar>>@@.re2;Walk toward it.@@ The man in the cubicle was so tall he made it look comically child-sized. And again, @@.bb;you@@ might have laughed, if laughter <<if $hc is 0>>hadn't been more of a thought tucked away for someone else to appreciate<<else>> wouldn't've broken the perfect stillness<</if>>. "Is it you?" @@.bb;you@@ asked. [[`"Do you know where my family is?"`|Wednesday1-9]]<</linkreplace>><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "fanquiet" fadeout>><<audio "fan" loop volume 0 fadeto 0.1>><<audio "crowd" loop volume 0 fadeto 0.5>><</if>><<set $time to "12:47 PM">><<set $day to "This Wednesday">>The coffee arrives, and @@.aa;you@@ and Priya start the awkward process of blowing and sipping until it no longer looks like it's scorching. "Ah," @@.aa;you@@ say after a long sip. "The devil's piss." A little bit dribbles between Priya's lips, but she has iron-willed self-control and swallows the rest without laughing. "It's coffee." She takes another sip. "At least this piss has stimulants." "You need some standards." "Says the woman who gets pancakes for lunch." "Pri." @@.aa;You@@ let out a long, exaggerated breath. "It's food. I don't think it appreciates, or in fact cares, if it could, the linear concept of time we humans so bravely chain ourselves to like great titans on the shore." <<if $mc gte 1>>It feels like you're making a good stab at normal conversation now.<<elseif $mc is 0>>It feels good to finally unwind.<</if>> "Is this a Prometheus thing?" "Who? What?" @@.aa;You@@ look over your shoulder to see if food is coming yet. "No, I just think I can eat my goddamn pancakes whenever I want." "You're right," she says. "That's more an Icarus thing, flying too close to the sun. The sun being your completely unrestrained eating habits." [[You do your best to laugh.|Wednesday1-10]] <<set $time to "12:58 PM">>//Coping//, @@.aa;you@@ tell yourself, and ignore the rest of the imagery Priya's comment conjures. Eventually, your food arrives, though @@.aa;you@@ have to call the waiter back for the maple syrup-syrup. It's not the same as the real stuff, but @@.aa;you@@ can pretend it is. But even the maple syrup-syrup has your mind drawing allusions to a sun that is not a sun, and [[a mother who was not a mother.|Wednesday1-11][$mc +=1]] / [[a daughter who was never grateful.|Wednesday1-11][$hc +=1]]<<set $time to "1:13 PM">><<if $hc gte 2>>At one point, @@.bb;Mom@@ always called @@.aa;you@@ "Shu-shu." At one point, she always called @@.aa;you@@ "love." At one point, she never saw @@.aa;you@@ without a long hug.<<if $mc lte 1>> At one point, long ago, maybe she'd earned that.<</if>> But your brother's death was, obviously, one point.<<else>><<if $mc gte 2>>@@.aa;You@@ remember the last time she returned your hug. @@.aa;You@@ remember the last time she'd ignored your call. And maybe she would have picked up the next time, but the next time just hadn't happened because dad had been lost, and you'd both run out of things to say that could fill the gaps in the conversation two other people had filled.<<else>>Neither of you had really tried that hard though, had you? Dad had mediated until he'd been lost, leaving the two of you to make your own conversation, though the space between you was larger than even a hundred floors and a dozen climbs.<</if>><</if>> The last time @@.aa;you@@ and your mother had had a real conversation was when she'd said, "I have to grieve the loss of two sons, now," and @@.aa;you@@, honestly, had no idea how to respond. You'd still been there. Right in front of her. At least lunch is comfortable, filled with the sounds of plastic cutlery and burping and chewing around oversized mouthfuls. Being old friends means any dignity has already died between @@.aa;you@@ and Priya. [[You pay the bill.|Wednesday1-12]]<<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "crowd" fadeout>><<audio "fan" fadeout>><<audio "fanquiet" loop volume 0 fadeto 0.1>><</if>><<set $time to "12:00 PM">><<set $day to "Last Wednesday">>"Do you know where my family is?" @@.bb;you@@ asked, hand outstretched to the tall man in the cubicle. "Shhhh." He put a finger to his lips—the shush three times as loud as your "hello" had been—and stood up, ignoring your hand. "This way," he probably thought he whispered. If anyone looked, though, it would be to see a seven-foot-tall man waddle like a penguin, black suit and all, rather than to see what he or his companion might be doing on this dingy floor of the Library. <<if $hc gte 2>>Being there made @@.bb;you@@ want to call up @@.aa;Mako@@<<if $mc lt 2>>, if she would've picked up.<<else>>, even if @@.bb;you@@ knew @@.bb;you@@ still weren't ready. What would @@.bb;you@@ say when she picked up?<</if>><<else>>Maybe you could donate a bit more money to clean this floor up. To do something in your family's name, since you're long past the point of being able to do it face-to-face.<</if>> You walked to the far end of the floor and he tapped on a piece of the concrete wall, which swung outward like a piece of cheap cardboard. "I—" "Shhh." He ushered @@.bb;you@@ into the pitch-black room, the light only turning on when the faux-concrete door [[swung shut with a soft click.|Wednesday2-8]]<<set $time to "12:03 PM">><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "crowd" volume 0 fadeto 0.4>><</if>>@@.bb;You@@ might feel alone here, but there were at least a dozen other people. Standing. Waiting. The penguin man consulted a screen briefly before leaving, plunging the room back into darkness for the time it took for the door to //click// shut again. The room itself was furnished with //things//, more accurately "technology"—the ambiguous kind of glass tubes and bright neon lights, stainless steel and wound copper wire, ever more hidden beneath lumpy green tarps. None of it was for making glass or watches, so @@.bb;you@@ were at the end of your expertise. "@@.bb;Hiroko Sato@@?" a man asked. He was middle-aged, tanned, tired, but his eyes shone, and he held the confidence to say @@.bb;you@@ were here to see him. @@.bb;You@@ nodded and held out a hand, which he shook. "I'm here…" @@.bb;You@@ trailed off. "Your family." [[You nodded again.|Wednesday2-9]]<<if $hc gte 2>> Some of it.<</if>><<set $time to "12:05 PM">>There was no way @@.bb;you@@ could justify yourself in words<<if $hc lte 1>>. @@.bb;You@@ just wanted to move on before @@.bb;you@@ were left behind by everyone else<<else>>, but you'd rather run from burned bridges than see them fall, if there was somewhere else to cross. That was one justification to give yourself, anyway.<</if>> "You've made the best decision they could ever hope for," he said<<if $hc gte 2>>, as much a liar as @@.bb;you@@<</if>>. Then he put an arm around your shoulder, leading @@.bb;you@@ toward the technology, the other people observing silently. There was a little bit of loss on all those faces, smushed between anxiety and apathy and devotion, but at least in the man—Lee Chang, he said his name was—there was a little bit of found too. As he talked, it began to catch on @@.bb;you@@, too. No one mentioned that your name was (literally) on half the windows in the city. Or the dome. They probably had their own names too, but they don't give them. Even he didn't want his name much, only offering it out of politeness. [[He preferred Icarus.|Thursday]]<<set $time to "12:39 PM">>@@.aa;You@@ thank him and say goodbye, hanging up on his unshaven face. He looks grizzled and more than a little like a hobo, but there's a heart in him, and there was a reason he was the boss. He could read your best expressionless face like a book. You'd tried to make yourself cry at one point during the call. It hadn't worked. You'd just coughed instead, which seemed to get more sympathy than anything else. Well. Now @@.aa;you@@ can finally be alone for a day. You'd wanted that, though maybe @@.aa;you@@ shouldn't have it. Look at what your mom did when left alone. [[She was too stupid to admit she needed help.|Thursday1-3]] / [[She was too thoughtful to make it your problem.|Thursday1-3][$hc +=1]]<<set $time to "12:42 PM">>What the hell do @@.aa;you@@ know, though. The two of you hadn't said a word to one another for two years. Everything had been confused and awkward at first—it had been her not understanding, and @@.aa;you@@ not knowing how to help her because you'd left it so long @@.aa;you@@ didn't know her, and she didn't know @@.aa;you@@, //so what was the point?//<<if $mc gte 2>> But //what if @@.aa;you@@ had//? <<linkreplace "@@.re;Even once?@@" t8n>>@@.re2;Even once?@@<<timed 3s t8n>><<remove "#you">><</timed>><span id="you"> @@.re2;(((As if you would have)))@@</span><</linkreplace>> It could have changed so much.<</if>> That wasn't what this was about, though. This wasn't about @@.aa;you@@. This was all because @@.bb;Hiroko@@—//fucking//—@@.bb;Sato@@ did not know how to ask for help. <<if $mc is 0>>@@.aa;You@@ owe it to yourself to just move on. <</if>><<timed 3s t8n>><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "watchshort" volume 0.1 play>><</if>>Your watch beeps, the tiny screen fuzzing to life: @@.note;//Avoid areas between 158th and 160th climb between 12:53 and 12:57 PM. Watch for further updates.//@@ No wonder Justin was complaining about being understaffed. [[Sun-Day is tomorrow.|Thursday1-4]]<</timed>><<set $time to "12:44 PM">>It's unreal how frequent they've become, but at least they're predictable. At least there's the dome—mostly. At least your mother left something behind <<if $mc gte 2>>other than heartache<<else>>other than a knot of emotions and too much paperwork<</if>>. The little triangle on the map has shifted slightly, a bit farther away from your home on the 71st climb. Not that the numbers strictly denote closeness. <<if $play isnot true>>It's a mess, really. All two-hundred-and-whatever climbs had been built up by a dozen different contractors over a few decades, each trying to give their own flair to the same lame government-approved design. It had been a pitiful excuse to save the historic city from the rising water. It's more notable now for its failure to keep the old San Francisco feeling than its feats of engineering. Should have been abandoned. Hell, the money should have been put into stopping the water from rising, even if it had been too late by then. Not that @@.aa;you@@ think this; the entire conversation is playing out on the TV you've left on in the background, like a step-by-step rerun every other old history textbook. <</if>>Now, seriously, //[[do something with your free day.|Thursday1-5]]//<<set $time to "7:56 PM">>Being home brought other reminders, though. A photo of your family still on the mantle because that's the sort of thing a normal person should be able to look at without feeling lost, so it's good practice. Another photo of only <<if $hc lt 1>>Shun—<</if>>@@.aa;Mako@@ was a bitter reminder that @@.bb;you@@, in fact, still had family, even if @@.bb;you@@ didn't know how to approach them. <<if $hc lt 1>>Those pangs of emotions were short, messy, and familiar before @@.bb;you@@ returned to your research. There were a dozen open tabs on the screen @@.bb;you@@ wake gently with a few mashed keys. Most are garbage, telling @@.bb;you@@ the same <<linkreplace "@@.re;soundbyes anyone could offer.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;sound bites anyone could offer.@@ @@.note;<ul><li>The first Sun-Day took 51,000,000 people</li> <li>It changes gravitational waves</li> <li>No one knows why</li></ul>@@<<remove "#space">><</linkreplace>><span id="space"> </span> There is one person who promises something more, though. Nothing less than what you have, anyway. [[Let him know you're interested.|Tuesday1-4]]<<else>>The pangs of messy emotions were short and familiar, though, and a welcome distraction presented itself in the form of an unsigned message asking if @@.bb;you@@ wanted to know what happened to your family. [[Of course you did.|Tuesday1-4]]<</if>><<set $time to "12:56 PM">>You're glad, confused, interested, anxious—but at least not angry anymore—as @@.aa;you@@ stand at your apartment door. The world is at your fingertips and, oh—<<linkreplace "@@.re;what's that?" t8n>>@@.re2;what's that?@@ @@.aa;You@@ finally notice the letter, footprint and all on a faded white envelope. Inside is a single sheet of paper, the words on it looking as if they were written on a typewriter, the letters irregular and ink smudged. @@.aa;You@@ have to squint to read it at first, skimming past the polite nonsense to finally get to those <<linkreplace "@@.re;two important sentences.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;two important sentences.@@ @@.type;Your mother is alive. ... You can find out everything on the 15th floor of the Library, at your pleasure.@@<</linkreplace>> "Your mother is alive," @@.aa;you@@ mouth, think, roll over in your head like a soft ball before [[carefully folding the letter and tucking it away.|ThursdayFunnel]]<</linkreplace>><<set $time to "1:02 PM">>The conversation is pleasant<<if $mc gte 2>>, but it can't last forever. You lapse into what is, for Priya, probably a comfortable silence. For @@.aa;you@@, it's just more time to think as she hums along. Thankfully, she breaks the silence soon.<<else>> and you lapse into a comfortable silence as @@.aa;you@@ walk, Priya humming to herself. She's the one to break it eventually.<</if>> "Ow. Fuck. Idiots." She must be getting off the lift. "Anyway, you're coming from the east skyway?" <<linkreplace"@@.re;\"Yeah.\"@@" t8n>>"@@.re2;Yeah.@@ Please stop waving at me. You look like an idiot." "Not my zag, baby." @@.aa;You@@ hang up on her, but in a few moments, you've split the distance and she's beside @@.aa;you@@ loudly unpacking another power bar. "Want some?" <<if $mc gte 2>>[[`"I just had breakfast."`|Thursday1-9][$lie to 1]] <<else>>[[`"Sure."`|Thursday1-9]]<</if>><</linkreplace>><<set $time to "1:01 PM">>Your watch buzzes as @@.aa;you@@ head out the door. <<linkreplace "@@.re;Answer the call.@@" t8n>><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "vibrate" volume 0.1 play>><</if>>@@.aa;You@@ tap once on your palm, @@.re2;answering the call.@@ "Yo, yo, @@.aa;Mako@@," Priya says, trying and failing to make the rhyme catch. "Hey." "On lunch." @@.aa;You@@ can hear her chewing. "What are you doing?" "Heading to the library," @@.aa;you@@ say, stopping for a moment at a skyway. Would it be faster to go to the 170th or just keep going? @@.aa;You@@ shrug and keep going. "We can probably hang for a few mins up on 140th, if you get here quick. I'll be down there in—" She chomps another bite of food. "Uh, two minutes? God damn lifts are packed today." "Don't you only get fifteen off?" "Yeah, so get your ass out the door." Another chomp. "I'm already in the lift." @@.aa;You@@ say what @@.aa;you@@ know @@.aa;you@@ should: "I'm coming." [[It's only fifteen minutes.|Thursday2-1]]<</linkreplace>><<if $mc gte 2>> <<goto "Thursday1-6A">> <<else>> <<goto "Thursday1-6B">> <</if>><<set $time to "1:01 PM">><<if $mc lte 1>>Instead of leaving the apartment, @@.aa;you@@ head back to your room and pull out the old laptop. It takes forever to boot up, but it's chugging along eventually so @@.aa;you@@ can start looking up who the hell is leaving mysterious letters at your door. It seems like the kind of thing someone might do to execute a kidnapping, and so it's not surprising that the results your computer brings up are for some sort of... cult? There isn't much information, but it's more than enough to tell @@.aa;you@@ that even if @@.aa;you@@ were feeling self-destructive, there were less sketchy alternatives.<<else>>One moment of hesitation at the door, reading the words over another three or ten times, and then @@.aa;you@@ decide it's better to just rip up the fucking thing. Your mother is dead and gone, and you've counselled more than enough people to know the folly of trying to retroactively manufacture love where there was none. If your mother is alive—which she isn't—it's on her to contact @@.aa;you@@. Just like it always had.<</if>> Your watch buzzes as @@.aa;you@@<<if $mc lte 1>> finally<</if>> head out the door. <<linkreplace "@@.re;Answer the call.@@" t8n>><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "vibrate" volume 0.1 play>><</if>>@@.aa;You@@ tap one finger on your palm, @@.re2;answering the call.@@ "Yo, yo, @@.aa;Mako@@," Priya says, trying and failing to make the rhyme catch. "Hey." "On lunch." @@.aa;You@@ can hear her chewing. "What are you doing?" "Out for a walk," @@.aa;you@@ say, stopping for a moment at a skyway. "We can probably hang for a few mins up on 140th, if you get here quick. I'll be down there in—" She chomps another bite of food. "Uh, two minutes? God damn lifts are packed today." "Don't you only get fifteen off?" "Yeah, so get your ass out the door." Another chomp. "I'm already in the lift." @@.aa;You@@ shrug and pivot toward the 140th. Not like @@.aa;you@@ had other plans yet. Just a few minutes blocked off for this incredibly timed reminder that your mother is far from the only person in your life who matters. [[`"Coming."`|Thursday2-1]]<</linkreplace>><<set $time to "5:18 PM">>It was a comfy, open area with stuffed polyester chairs and French windows. The view used to be beautiful, but the dome, translucent as it was most of the time, made everything on the horizon look fuzzy, like paint smudged on canvas. Inland was some vague dream.<<if $hc gte 1>> A family trip indefinitely postponed.<</if>> @@.bb;You@@ picked up the rod again, even as the sound of the moving dish subsided and the soft scratching of claws on wood (real wood) floor shuffled back into the sitting room. "No. Go lay down." The dog was eyeing your elbow for another nip. "Later." He lay down, but kept his eyes trained on @@.bb;you@@<<if $hc lte 2>>, as if asking, //What happens after "later?"// and believing @@.bb;you@@ somehow had the answer<</if>>. @@.bb;You@@ tapped a finger lazily against the palm of a hand and a micro-screen flashed into view. @@.bb;You@@ flicked your eyes, selecting options, <<linkreplace "@@.re;opening the Sun-Day report.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;opening the Sun-Day report.@@ @@.note;//Avoid areas between the 121st and 123rd climb between 4:31 and 4:34 PM. Watch for further updates.//@@<</linkreplace>> @@.bb;You@@ turned the rod over in your hands again. [[One day.|Thursday2-3]]<<set $time to "5:23 PM">>A few more flicks and your alarm was set for 3:00 PM, //hm, no//. 2:30 PM. It was a long walk to the 121st, and it went nowhere near <<if $hc lte 2>>Shu—<</if>>Mako's place. <span id="today">Maybe today...</span><<timed 2s>><<replace "#today">>Maybe today— <<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "vibrate" volume 0.5 play>><</if>><<linkreplace "@@.re;Your watch buzzed.@@" t8n>>An involuntary twitch of a finger @@.re2;answered it.@@ "Mrs. Sato." The disapproving voice of your secretary came through loud and clear. "Sanchez calling." "All right," @@.bb;you@@ said. [[`"Hello Sanchez."`|Thursday2-4]]<</linkreplace>><</replace>><</timed>><<set $time to "5:25 PM">>There was a pause on his end before he finally said, "Where are you?"<<timed 3s t8n>> @@.bb;You@@ were looking out at the dome.<<timed 3s t8n>><span id="1"> "You've got a lot of orders piling up on your desk."</span><<timed 3s t8n>><<remove "#1">> There wasn't time for this. <<if $hc lte 1>>Shun<<else>>@@.aa;Mako@@<</if>> should have been home by now.<<timed 5s t8n>><span id="2"> "@@.bb;Hiroko@@. Finish these, finish the dome."</span><<timed 5s t8n>><<remove "#2">> <<if $hc gt 2>>@@.bb;You@@ don't want to give her more work... But you'd been close, once. She might listen to this.<<else>>She had to understand what it was like for @@.bb;you@@.<</if>><<timed 5s t8n>> "Send them over," @@.bb;you@@ said. "I'll take care of them here."<<if $hc gt 2>> It was almost sincere.<</if>><<timed 5s t8n>><span id="3"> "Mrs. Sato, a lot of it really needs to be signed //here//."</span><<timed 4s t8n>><<remove "#3">> @@.bb;You@@ sighed and continued to [[flip the rod over and over in your hand.|Thursday1-7]]<</timed>><</timed>><</timed>><</timed>><</timed>><</timed>><</timed>><</timed>><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "fanquiet" fadeout>><<audio "fan" loop volume 0 fadeto 0.1>><</if>><<set $day to "This Thursday">>@@.aa;You@@ turn around on the skyway, only just avoiding running into a grubby man walking behind @@.aa;you@@. "All right, yeah, I'm coming," @@.aa;you@@ say to Priya. <<linkreplace "@@.re;//Chomp.//@@" t8n>><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "chomp" volume 0.4 play>><</if>>@@.re2;//Chomp.//@@ "What the hell are you eating? It sounds like gravel." There is a moment of silence. "Imagine I just shrugged. It's some power bar they were giving out at work. Tastes like shit, but it kicks the ass of making my own lunch in the morning. Ya zig?" "What does that mean, Priya?" "Imagine me shrugging again. I'm just trying to be cool." "You're twenty-eight." "I'm not sure if you're trying to tell me I'm too old or too young." @@.aa;You@@ laugh<<if $mc gte 2>>, forcing muscles to expand, contract—to keep @@.aa;you@@ talking, walking, wondering what the fastest route to the Library will be from the 140th. <<else>>. <</if>>"I think a little of both," @@.aa;you@@ say. "There's a sweet spot when something's old enough to be cool to kids again, but I don't think either of us are in that zone yet. A few more years though, and we'll be cool like Jack Shoes." [[`"Nothing will be cool like Jack Shoes."`|Thursday1-8]]<</linkreplace>><<set $time to "1:07 PM">><<if $lie is 1>>The lie comes to your lips automatically. @@.aa;You@@ haven't eaten at all today. And @@.aa;you@@ wonder, briefly, if @@.bb;she@@ found it this easy to lie; if your whole family just had the //wrong// instincts when it came to trauma. But there @@.aa;you@@ go, being too analytical about it all. Justin was a firm believer that you could know others but never know yourself. He'd never had to think about who he was as much as @@.aa;you@@ did, so maybe it's not that uncalled for to dissect your feelings toward your mother like the autopsy she'd never get.<<if $mc is 3>> To make sense of why something so distant could still hurt so much.<</if>> Priya shrugs and takes a big bite as @@.aa;you@@ take a seat in the outer hallway of the 140th. There are a few other dome workers around, but they're all in a hurry, probably grabbing something or someone, too, before they have to get back to work. "Talk to me @@.aa;Mako@@." "I've already run all my gambits." "Jack Shoes and asking me what I'm eating?" [[Shrug.|Thursday1-10A]]<<else>>@@.aa;You@@ realize @@.aa;you@@ hadn't actually eaten before leaving, after the thing with the letter. If @@.aa;you@@ don't eat something now, you'll be grumpy all day. Priya breaks the bar in half, taut muscles straining for a moment to accomplish the feat, but she manages, and @@.aa;you@@ hold your half loosely. @@.aa;You@@ should take a bite. But. It's a bit of that behaviour @@.aa;you@@ observed in your mom, before the two of you lost contact completely. She'd be there, but she wouldn't be //there//. Though maybe you're getting a bit too analytical with yourself. Justin was a firm believer that you could know others but never know yourself. Fucking useless. He'd never had to think as much as @@.aa;you@@ did about who he was. Make it past Sun-Day, though, and everything will be fine. "@@.aa;Mako@@?" [[`"Sorry."`|Thursday1-10B]]<</if>><<set $time to "1:10 PM">>@@.aa;You@@ shrug and say, "Do you expect me to bring cue cards?" "Come on, just let me know how you've been enjoying your days off." She takes another bite and continues talking. "God, I'd love a day off. A real, big day off that isn't just recovering from work, you know? A day off now is a day to be exhausted and sore and feeling like I want to do nothing more than sleep until I've got to get up for the next shift." "People complain about that a lot, but honestly Pri, [[do you think we're entitled not to have to work a day in our lives?|Thursday1-11A]]@@.link;"@@<<set $time to "1:10 PM">>"Sorry," @@.aa;you@@ say and finally take a bite of the ungodly, chewy gravel bar. "I was spacing?" She nods. "What do you want to talk about?" She shrugs. "What do you want to talk about?" It's an invitation @@.aa;you@@ aren't sure you're ready to take yet. "Whatever." "Well." There's an eye roll. "Tell me about how your days off have been then. Doing anything nice for yourself?" "Uhhh. I'm getting there." "Would it help to... I don't know, I'm not as good with this as you are—but would it help to look again? See if your mom left anything?" [[`"I wish she did."`|Thursday1-11B][$mc +=1]] / [[`"I worry she did."`|Thursday1-11B][$hc +=1]]<<set $time to "1:12 PM">>Priya nods. "Okay. I just wish... I could help a bit more? You need closure." "Honestly, I'm fine," @@.aa;you@@ say, and it's definitely mostly true. Haven't had closure for five years so what else was fucking new. "Just shaken still. Promise." "Well, you don't have to shake your bake alone. I'm always around." @@.aa;You@@ laugh, because it's impossible for her to not make @@.aa;you@@ laugh. It would be nice to hang here forever, <<linkreplace "@@.re;but her watch begins to beep.@@" t8n>><<set $time to "1:15 PM">><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "watchslow" volume 0.1 loop>><</if>>@@.re2;but her watch is beeping.@@ "I'll call you," she says, already up and trying to squeeze into an arriving lift. "Keep busy!" That's an easy promise to keep, and there's a lot of great distractions close to home. Sadly, it's impossible for the idea of a letter not to push its way back into your thoughts, the same idea repeating itself. [[If you cared, you'd check to see if she left something.|Thursday2-5][$mc +=1;$search to 1]] / [[Even if you cared, there had to be nothing to find.|Thursday2-5]]<</linkreplace>><<set $time to "1:12 PM">>@@.aa;You@@ grab the power bar from her, taking a small nibble. Bad decision. @@.aa;You@@ almost spit it out before taking another bite and handing it back. "Animals don't take days off," @@.aa;you@@ say. "Animals don't get TV! I don't know, we like to make a big deal out of the fact that we only live to work, but it's not like that makes us unique." "Sorry," she says, though @@.aa;you@@ don't know why she's apologizing. "Would it be better to... I don't know, I'm not as good with this as you are—but would it help to look again? See if your mom left anything?" That was out of nowhere. Or maybe not. @@.aa;You@@ are acting a //little// on edge. [[`"She wouldn't have left anything, even if I wanted her to."`|Thursday1-12A][$mc +=1]] / [[`"She should have told me herself, even if she did."`|Thursday1-12A][$hc +=1]]<<set $time to "1:12 PM">>Priya nods. "Okay. I just wish... I could help a bit more?" "Honestly, I'm fine," @@.aa;you@@ say, since lying seems to come easily now. "Just shaken still. Promise." "I'm always here, @@.aa;Mako@@." You're about to speak again, to say that that's a bold promise to make in this world, <<linkreplace "@@.re;but her watch begins to beep.@@" t8n>><<set $time to "1:15 PM">><<updatebar>><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "watchslow" loop volume 0.1 play>><</if>>@@.re2;but her watch is beeping.@@ She jumps up. "I'll call you," she says, trying to squeeze into the lift that has just opened, as if on cue. "Keep busy!" That's an easy promise to keep as @@.aa;you@@ head to the Library moments after she's out of sight, since it feels like something [[you have to do.|Thursday2-5]] / [[you want to do.|Thursday2-5][$mc +=1]]<</linkreplace>><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "fan" fadeout>><<audio "watchslow" stop>><<audio "fanquiet" volume 0 fadeto 0.1>><</if>><<set $time to "5:26 PM">><<set $day to "Last Thursday">>Last Thursday, @@.bb;you@@ hung up on your secretary even as the printer began to work like a dying beast spitting out its last poisoned meal. It was churning out documents in a vain attempt to get @@.bb;you@@ to address your backed-up responsibilities—no, not your family<<if $hc gte 4>>. @@.bb;You@@ were still hoping to address those<</if>>. Just that last order of glass the Done-Day division was trying to push through. Then the printer stumbled, stopped. Cried for more paper now like a hungry child, [[even as you were leaving home, dog leash snug around your wrist.|Thursday2-6]]<<set $time to "5:30 PM">>Walkways and attached skyways bare of people made so much silence as @@.bb;you@@ found your way to the elevators. @@.bb;You@@ might've owned the whole 250th floor, but @@.bb;you@@ had to use the same elevator as everyone else on the climb, causing @@.bb;you@@ to wait fifteen minutes with the dog intermittently tugging at the leash until one arrived going down. @@.bb;You@@ needed the time.<<if $hc lt 2>> To decide if you wanted to go.<</if>> To collect your thoughts, and maybe even forget about the rod left on the sitting room table, [[for a few minutes.|Thursday2-7]]<<set $time to "5:50 PM">>The ride was mostly people making small talk to your dog in an attempt to avoid eye contact with the soft-spoken, well-dressed CEO. <<if $hc gte 2>>Despite how @@.bb;you@@ mimed chewing, your ears popped over and over during the descent. An uncomfortable shiver went up your spine each time, so @@.bb;you@@ were only too happy to finally get off at sea-level. Even if the floor was a mess. Your dog did his part, trying to mark a nearby spot the moment he left the elevator, but the shot went wild and whizzed past the austere railing and into the water beyond. @@.bb;You@@ had to admit you'd always held a romanticized view of sea-level, <<linkreplace "@@.re;before you'd had to smell it.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;before you'd had to smell it.@@ It was brine and sewage with just a faint chemical whiff from all the attempts to erase the smells of the former.<</linkreplace>> But, even light-headed, @@.bb;you@@ walked confidently down the steps to one of the waiting boats. The boatman looked uneasily at the dog, your suit. @@.bb;You@@ flashed a hand over the meter, [[banishing any misgivings.|Thursday2-8A]]<<else>>The best part of the elevators was how they made their passengers into frogs, swallowing every five or ten floors to fix the pressure in their ears. It made @@.bb;you@@ feel like @@.bb;you@@ were chewing over an idea: to see Shun or not. She was always so emotional, so @@.bb;you@@ really weren't sure it was the right thing to do. Your relationship seemed to have worked best for both of you when @@.bb;you@@ just accepted having fallen apart, as adults do. Nothing personal about it which, @@.bb;you@@ had to admit, was more reason than any that @@.bb;you@@ shouldn't be going. So, by the time the elevator stopped at the bottom floor and the sour sea smells wafted in, @@.bb;you@@ hit the button to go right back up to 250. A woman gave you an annoyed look as she waited for @@.bb;you@@ to get out of the elevator. The dog couldn't wait any longer to be out in the open, though. He peed in the elevator. The woman said she would get the next one. [[Back up you went.|Thursday2-8B]]<</if>><<set $time to "6:03 PM">><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "venice" loop volume 0 fadeto 0.5>><</if>>"71st climb," @@.bb;you@@ said, sitting on one of the (probably mouldy) seats. "Are you in a hurry, Miss?" the boatman asked, looking again at your suit. The boat was edging out slowly from its dock, motor letting out a low hum as he tried to maneuver it into the eight-wide stream of boats, which was only too reluctant to let him enter. "Missus. But no, I'm not." The sun had just the right angle to reach the boat as you pulled away from the 200th climb, and then continued to appear and disappear between the climbs and skyways as you moved onward in fits and starts. The city was like an artificial version of the great past <<linkreplace "@@.re;redwood forests.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;redwood forests@@—the climbs were the trunk, the skyways the branches, the people the ants, and of course the dome was the grand canopy, though now it seemed indifferent, letting any and all light pass through.<</linkreplace>> You'd done your part to help build this city, at first more modestly. So many buildings needed so many windows. Then the Sun-Days had begun, and the dome had been proposed, and losing your son was your motivation, not—[[whatever it wasn't now.|Thursday2-9A]]<<set $time to "6:47 PM">>The ride was like a forever punctuated by poor engineering and your own inane thoughts.<<if $hc gte 1>> @@.bb;You@@ really should have gone. But there wasn't a single word in @@.bb;you@@ that felt like it meant anything.<<else>> The dull excitement beginning to form, your last task now considered and abandoned, felt sweet.<</if>> As @@.bb;you@@ stepped off the elevator, <<linkreplace "@@.re;your watch beeped.@@" t8n>><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "WatchChorus" volume 0.1 play>><</if>>@@.re2;dozens of other watches beeped@@, the sound striking like an electric shock after the quiet ride up. @@.note;//Avoid areas between the 122nd and 125th climb between 4:30 and 4:33 PM. Watch for further updates.//@@<</linkreplace>> //Tomorrow.// The word rang in your head like a watch's beeps until @@.bb;you@@ weren't certain that time hadn't just sped up and brought @@.bb;you@@ to your destination. To the end. To the beginning. [[To home.|Thursday2-9B]]<<set $time to "6:04 PM">>Building the dome was like paying to pay a debt that could never be cashed in. It hadn’t helped your son. It hadn’t helped your husband, and so, by proxy, it hadn't helped @@.bb;you@@ and it hadn't helped @@.aa;Mako@@. A selfish thought to have, but @@.bb;you@@ were old enough to accept selfishness, so long as it wasn’t for @@.bb;you@@ alone. So, honestly, it was about time @@.bb;you@@ did something for yourself. <<if $hc gte 4>>Something for @@.aa;Mako@@.<</if>> <<linkreplace "@@.re;Your watch beeped.@@" t8n>><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "WatchChorus" volume 0.1 play>><</if>>@@.re2;A hundred other watches beeped within earshot@@, sound skipping over the water like pebbles. @@.note;//Avoid areas between the 122nd and 125th climb between 4:30 and 4:33PM. Watch for further updates.//@@<</linkreplace>> "Tomorrow?" the boatman asked, carefully steering past the wreckage of two boats. Their owners were screaming at one another from platforms on opposite sides of the waterway. [[The boatman flipped a finger at one of them, as if you weren't there.|Thursday2-10A]]<<set $time to "6:15 PM">>"Yeah, tomorrow," @@.bb;you@@ said. "Still near One-Two-One, One-Two-Three?" He said each number like the step of a jig. "Hundred-and-twenty-second and hundred-and-twenty-fifth. Four-thirty." He nodded. "Do you—" "You don't have to make small talk." He shrugged small shoulders. "All right, Missus. [[But we'll probably be another forty minutes.|Thursday2-11A]]@@.link;"@@<<set $time to "7:11 PM">>It was closer to fifty, not that @@.bb;you@@ were counting. @@.bb;You@@ got off the boat and onto a dingy dock that bobbed with each step @@.bb;you@@ took toward the lowest accessible floor of the 71st climb. The boatman waved a goodbye @@.bb;you@@ did not see and waited for his next fare. The first two or three floors were walled in by glass to keep back the murky water from its fearless residents. The layout was a bit different from what @@.bb;you@@ were used to, making the elevators difficult to locate. <<if $hc lte 3>>Just a bit longer and you'll be able to put this all behind @@.bb;you@@.<<else>>@@.bb;You@@ hadn't been successful at business by failing to get second opinions. It was good @@.bb;you@@ knew an expert—it was bad you'd stopped speaking to her.<</if>> The dog followed happily as @@.bb;you@@ searched, glad to be on his own four feet again and around fresh new smells, even if @@.bb;you@@ felt the need to pinch your nose. [[It was a shame he hadn't saved anything to mark his passing.|Thursday2-12A]]<<set $time to "7:46 PM">><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "venice" stop>><</if>>Once @@.bb;you@@ found it, the elevator was another thirty minutes going up, making it clear why @@.bb;you@@ had seen so many people resorting to the stairs. <<if $play isnot true>>The elevator regularly opened to floors with no people, or onto blank walls. At one point, a man simply crawled between the small gap it gave and smiled at @@.bb;you@@ sheepishly before getting off the same way a few floors later. <</if>>When @@.bb;you@@ arrived at the 100th floor, it let @@.bb;you@@ off gracefully. Before going farther, @@.bb;you@@ had to check your phone, scrolling through two years worth of recent conversations to find the last unanswered message<<if $mc gte $hc>> @@.aa;Mako@@ had sent @@.bb;you@@, saying which apartment was <<if $hc lte 2>>his<<else>>hers<</if>>—"@@.aa;If you need to talk.@@"<<else>> @@.bb;you@@ had sent to @@.aa;Mako@@—"@@.bb;I'll talk to you tomorrow.@@" <<if $hc lte 2>>His<<else>>Her<</if>> address was buried a few messages further back.<</if>> So the anxiously tugging dog was finally allowed to move again as @@.bb;you@@ circled the floor in search of the right number. @@.bb;You@@ found it eventually. //[[Ring ring.|Thursday2-13A]]//<<set $time to "7:51 PM">>After a minute, it struck @@.bb;you@@ that no bell actually rang. Must have been broken. So @@.bb;you@@ braced arthritic knuckles and knocked. <<linkreplace "@@.re;//Knock knock//.@@" t8n>><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "KnockKnock" volume 0.3 play>><</if>>@@.re2;//Knock knock.//@@ It echoed down the walkway and certainly deep inside the tiny apartment. <<linkreplace "@@.re;//Knock knock//.@@" t8n>><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "KnockKnock" volume 0.3 play>><</if>>@@.re2;//Knock knock.//@@ <<linkreplace "@@.re;//Knock//.@@" t8n>><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "Knock" volume 0.3 play>><</if>>@@.re2;//Knock.//@@ //[[Knock.|Thursday2-14A]]//<</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><<set $time to "8:25 PM">><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "KnockFinal" volume 0.3 play>><</if>>It'd been twenty minutes, and even your dog had stopped tugging at his leash. He was curled up on the floor, letting out small woofs as he twitched in his sleep. If @@.bb;you@@ left a note (the paper's in hand, the pencil is still) under her door, she would see it tomorrow. And @@.bb;you@@ did not need any more distractions tomorrow. @@.bb;You@@ could postdate it and email it and she'd have wait to because she would probably understand. [[But come on. Finish it.|Thursday2-15A]]<<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "fanquiet" fadeout>><<audio "fan" loop volume 0 fadeto 0.1>><</if>><<if $hc lt 2>><<script>>$('body').addClass('hiro');$('body').addClass('mako-hiro')<</script>><<else>><<script>>$('body').addClass('mako')<</script>><</if>><<set $day to "This Thursday">><<set $time to "1:39 PM">>With Priya back at work on the dome, @@.aa;you@@ walk a path mapped out in your head to the Library. It's not too far, but @@.aa;you@@ make it a fast walk. Climbs pass by, one after another, the scent of rain carried to @@.aa;you@@ by an updraft. A brief glance down shows fast moving rain clouds, quickly fading. By the time @@.aa;you@@ reach the Library, your feet are aching. This is more walking than you've done in ages, the trip to work a full ten minutes, outside the waiting in/for the elevator. The climb is familiar, <<if $hc gte 2>>a place where @@.aa;you@@ spent many hours with your mother, once.<<else>>a place @@.aa;you@@ spent many hours working on school projects, or just tearing around with Priya and your brother when @@.bb;Mom@@ was too busy for @@.aa;you@@.<</if>> @@.aa;You@@ barely notice the people sleeping in study cubicles, or the missing ceiling panels. [[It's the same, even if nothing else is.|Thursday1-14A]]<<set $time to "3:03 PM">><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "fanquiet" fadeout>><<audio "fan" loop volume 0 fadeto 0.1>><</if>><<if $hc lt 2>><<script>>$('body').addClass('hiro');$('body').addClass('mako-hiro')<</script>><<else>><<script>>$('body').addClass('mako')<</script>><</if>><<set $day to "This Thursday">>The rest of your day is null and void, blocked off for slacking and moping and wandering that should hopefully pave the way back to existing again. Sadly, you're still doing a bad job, bumping into a cleaning cart as @@.aa;you@@ head away from your meeting with Priya. Spatial awareness really isn't your strong suit. Climbs pass by, one after another, the scent of rain carried to @@.aa;you@@ by an updraft. A brief glance down shows fast moving rain clouds, quickly fading. Before @@.aa;you@@ know it, though, you're back at your own climb. Where had @@.aa;you@@ even been going before Priya called? Well, if you'd had a goal, it must have been one of those "I'll know when I get there" kind of goals (which hadn't happened).<<if $search is 1>> Part of @@.aa;you@@ wanted to check (just a small part) if @@.bb;Mom@@ had in fact left @@.aa;you@@ a note. Surely it would be buried in with the rest in your bursting closet, still untouched.<</if>> [[Back home it is.|Thursday1-14B]]<<set $time to "6:51 PM">>It felt empty. The dog was excited to see it, at least, excitedly yapping once you're both inside. It's dinner time, but the only bowl @@.bb;you@@ fill is the dogs before getting distracted by the idea of goodbyes. Because Shun<<if $hc gte 1>>—@@.aa;Mako@@?—<</if>> is still there in picture frames and spirit, even if you didn't go to see them. One picture is from when he was young—before you'd started to lose everything. When the only uneasy ground in your world was the rising tides and the only things @@.bb;you@@ lost were pens. He's young and he's smiling, but then so is she in the next one. Just five or six years ago, the hair is still short, but the face is different in shape, not just because the smile seems to come so much more naturally. Even if @@.bb;you@@ never see them again, [[you have to leave something.|Thursday2-10B]]<<set $time to "7:03 PM">>It couldn't be sent tomorrow, of course. @@.bb;You@@ had enough common sense to know it would probably be a hectic enough day as it is. You'd leave it with Icarus, and he'd pass it on if finding family is anywhere near as important to her as it was to @@.bb;you@@. Now, <<linkreplace "@@.re;start to write.@@">><<set $time to "7:20 PM">><<updatebar>>@@.re2;start to write.@@ <<linkreplace "@@.re;start to write.@@" t8n>><<set $time to "7:31 PM">><<updatebar>>@@.re2;start to write.@@ <<linkreplace "@@.re;start to write.@@" t8n>><<set $time to "7:45 PM">><<updatebar>>@@.re2;start to write.@@ <<linkreplace "@@.re;start to write.@@" t8n>><<set $time to "7:57 PM">><<updatebar>>@@.re2;start to write.@@<<timed 2s t8n>> <<set $time to "8:04 PM">><<updatebar>>You've still written nothing.<<next 3s>> [[Just tell the truth.|Thursday2-11B]]<</timed>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><<set $time to "8:11 PM">><span class="type" style="position: absolute">Dear Shun, It's for the best. Love, Mom.</span><span class="note" style="position: absolute">Dear Mako, It's for the best. Love, Hiroko.</span> <<if $lie is 1>>[[Good enough.|Thursday1-13A]]<<else>>[[Good enough.|Thursday1-13B]]<</if>><<set $time to "2:03 PM">>It's a brief trip down, the elevators free and running smoothly, letting @@.aa;you@@ off at a floor as dingy as all the rest. No signs point "cult meeting this way." Just a large hand waving from one of the cubicles. @@.aa;You@@ begin to turn away, but the man connected to the hand stands up, eyes clearly locked on //@@.aa;you@@//. He continues to wave, but he's so tall that once he's standing erect, his hand goes through the ceiling and breaks a panel. It doesn't look like the first. "It's you?" @@.aa;You@@ close the distance, and he does something like nod. "Where's my mother?" "Shhhhh," he says, holding a big finger to his lips. Some lands on your face. "What do you want?" He makes another big shushing noise and then starts moving. [[You follow.|Thursday1-15A]]<<set $time to "8:39 PM">>The problem was, the words just wouldn't come. Not in the way @@.bb;you@@ wanted. So you'd tucked away the pencil and paper and tried a few dashed notes on your phone. But there was just... the complete inability to commit, because tomorrow was going to be a weird day and there would be no way to put it into words until it happened. You'd leave a letter with Icarus and he'd know how to fill in the rest for her, if she cared to find it. So @@.bb;you@@ picked up your sleeping dog and went back down to the boats—with luck @@.bb;you@@ could be home by 10 PM. With luck, what @@.bb;you@@ leave @@.aa;Mako@@ will be enough<<if $hc lte 3>> to let her move on<<elseif $hc lte 4>> to let her know that @@.bb;you@@ knew she cared, and @@.bb;you@@ cared all the same.<<else>> to let her understand it was //because// of the family that @@.bb;you@@ did this, not despite. Never despite. Icarus said, //Nothing's lost that can't be found//<</if>>. <<if $lie is 1>>[[You'd done all you could.|Thursday1-13A]]<<else>>[[You'd done all you could.|Thursday1-13B]]<</if>><<set $time to "2:06 PM">>Three minutes later, you're at an unremarkable patch of concrete wall where, after furtively looking around with all the casualness of a horse in heat, he pokes at the wall, sliding it open. He makes another wide, urgent gesture pointing inside. There is only darkness. "This is how people get kidnapped," @@.aa;you@@ say.<<if $mc lte 3>> Your mother might not be worth this.<</if>> "Shhhhh." @@.aa;You@@ tap your watch and lie before entering: "I said I'd meet a friend at three. He knows I'm here." [[Then the door closes behind you.|Thursday1-16A]]<<set $time to "2:07 PM">>The brightness that follows inside is almost blinding. Light reflects off plates of metal, the unsheltered, archaic gaseous tube-lights hanging haphazardly from the ceiling. There is a single man within, the other one having left @@.aa;you@@ with him. "Mako Sato?" he asks. His face looks haggard, deep shadows cast by lines of age, but his eyes still manage to sparkle as he holds out a hand. "I'm Lee Chang." A pause. "Icarus." "Yes, I'm..." @@.aa;You@@ trail off, struck by the strange name and the strange place, but life has been strange for a long time, so @@.aa;you@@ stay on task. "My mother?" <<if $mc lt 5>>[[His hand is life hanging.|Thursday1-17A]]<<else>>[[Shake his hand.|Thursday1-17A]]<</if>><<set $time to "2:08 PM">><<if $mc gte 5>>@@.aa;You@@ take his hand readily, and then he passes a holo-screen over in one smooth movement.<<else>>As if he doesn't notice your hesitance, he sweeps his outstretched hand into another motion, picking up a holo-screen from a table. He hands it to @@.aa;you@@.<</if>> @@.aa;You@@ can only react with confusion as @@.aa;you@@ examine all the little graphs and notices on the screen—//is that a pie chart?// No, it's a dial of some sort. The graphs are mostly static, but every few seconds one of the lines jump and starts. Then calms down. Then goes haywire for fifteen or twenty seconds. Then it's smooth again. "Your mother is sending that back to us," he says, points. In the corner, it says "Hiroko Sato (G)" in a precise font. @@.aa;You@@ point at the graph, which is having another spasm of activity, disbelieving. <<if $mc gte 4>>"What is this saying? What is she saying? Where is she?"<<else>>"So. She did still go?" @@.aa;You@@ shouldn't have been surprised, and @@.aa;you@@ shouldn't feel the need to cry. But, as ever, @@.aa;you@@ don't.<</if>> "She's right where you think she is." He takes back the holo-screen and puts it aside. "We're recording all the data she sends back. Look." He's walked @@.aa;you@@ over to a wall with a massive screen almost ten feet wide and four feet tall. It's covered in columns and rows and folders and layers of numbers, enough to make your mind want to go numb. He runs a finger down one column. "We're learning so much." The data seems to have put him into some silent reverie while @@.aa;you@@ try to figure out what you're seeing in the first place. [[`"So, is she coming back?"`|Thursday1-18A]]<<set $time to "2:12 PM">>"Oh? We haven't learned that much yet. Not //yet//." He stresses the word, as if he believes it. As if he knows that @@.aa;you@@ want to as well<<if $mc lte 4>>, at least so you can move on—whatever that entails<</if>>. "But look at the sky—that's our sun. Our sun," he says. There are no windows, but he continues gesturing as if there are. "And then it's just... poof. Gone! Every couple weeks at first, just for a minute or two. But now it's weekly, and for four, five, six minutes at a time. How long, do you think, before it never comes back?" "About three-hundred years," @@.aa;you@@ say. The number is thrown around a lot. "What? No, anyway. No. In ten years, our world is going to be changed past imagining, beyond our power, because of these holes in space. I am readying us to //cope//. To cope with that." The gesturing turns into movement, and soon he's rifling through the piles of junk, booting up different holo-screens and tossing aside cracked tubing and enough watches to start a Lost & Found. "A year, at most, and I'll have enough data. Then we'll start bringing people back." He shakes his head and laughs. "Getting ahead of myself." @@.aa;You@@ wait in silence, then say again, [[`"My mother."`|Thursday1-19A]]<<set $time to "2:15 PM">><<set $look to 1>>"And your father, and your brother," he says, absent minded. A beat. "So?" He picks up the handheld holo-screen again, making a circuit around the room back to @@.aa;you@@, pressing a few buttons to show a different graph. It features an almost-static curve that scrolls slowly, trending upward, with axes labeled "Pulse" and "Throughput." He nudges the screen against your wrist, and the graph pops up on the watch. Neither measurements are familiar to @@.aa;you@@, but he jabs a finger at one of the spikes in the graph, where "Pulse" seems to peak. "They've helped so much. But we need more." Out from under a tarp, he grabs a rod and hands it to @@.aa;you@@. "Take this, and you can find them again. Nothing's lost that can't be found." It's not just a rod, though, that @@.aa;you@@ find in your hand. Paper crumples, soft and real, and when @@.aa;you@@ uncurl your fingers, @@.aa;you@@ can read the words, [[From Mom.|Sun-Day2]]<<set $time to "3:23 PM">><<if $search is 1>>All told, home found @@.aa;you@@ quickly, but the falling debris from your closet finds @@.aa;you@@ faster. Its contents had been stacked haphazardly as a warning, a threat, from ever touching what was inside. Now it made a mess of the scarce floorspace @@.aa;you@@ possessed. There's a personal terminal, a clunky briefcase, a watch, an external hard drive, and more. Was she the kind of the person who hid away a suicide note in an old tax folder? Or was she the kind who put it on the desktop. Big letters that screamed at you for attention. Or was she the kind who left nothing, past the will. That had been legalities and necessity and maybe a guilty conscience<<if $mc lt 1>>, at best<</if>>. But she'd once been a woman of many words, even if she didn't say them to @@.aa;you@@. They had to be somewhere. [[Start looking.|Thursday1-15B]]<<else>>It's all the same familiar place, except for one recent change: a stack of books teeters precariously in one corner of your living room, its previous haunt in the closet taken over by any of your mother's possessions that haven't been completely tossed yet. The closet is so packed @@.aa;you@@ doubt it will ever be usable again. Which is fine. The essentials are out in the open: books in the corner; computer in your room; a pyramid of food cans on the kitchen counter. But ten minutes of staring at the stack of books accomplish approximately and exactly //nothing//. They're almost all fiction, and for some reason, tearing yourself away from reality right now feels impossible. It's like you're bound to it by chains and tethers and the pressing awareness that @@.aa;you@@ should feel //something// when, quite honestly, @@.aa;you@@ <<linkreplace "@@.re;don't.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;can't?@@ <<linkreplace "@@.re;That's it.@@">>@@.re2;That's it.@@ Priya got to @@.aa;you@@. [[You're going to stop moping for good and clean.|Thursday1-15B]]<</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</if>><<set $time to "3:57 PM">><<if $search is 1>>After a bit of sorting, @@.aa;you@@ realize there's broken glass on the floor, but for the life of @@.aa;you@@, @@.aa;you@@ can't find what broke as the heap of your mother's junk gets turned into neat little piles of "might hold secrets," "probably an expensive toaster," "dangerous?" and "misc." Possibilities run through your head: donate it; Junk it; Find a hole in the warding of your floor and see if @@.aa;you@@ can hear when an old remote hits the water, five hundred feet down. Not that @@.aa;you@@ would ever do something so irresponsible. <<linkreplace "@@.re;You're not your mother.@@" t8n>><span id="remove">@@.re2;You're not your mother.@@ ((((Neither was she))))</span><<timed 4s>><<replace "#remove">>You're not your mother.<</replace>><</timed>><</linkreplace>> There's not much of interest in it all, anyway. All your categories could be further refined into "doesn't hold data" (//toaster//, //dangerous?//), "only holds business data" (//might hold secrets//), and "why was this even worth keeping" (//misc.//). So now your apartment is an absolute mess and you've just frustrated yourself trying to find something that's clearly not to be found. [[Clean up the mess.|Thursday1-16B]]<<else>>But, now—and this is at risk of being broody while @@.aa;you@@ clean—here's the thing. //Here's the //fucking// thing//, @@.aa;you@@ think while reorganizing the stack of books. @@.bb;Mom@@ never cared, so why should @@.aa;you@@? Why should @@.aa;you@@ be cut to shreds over something so fleeting it was easy to forget she existed, other than brief snatches of news with her name scrolling across the bottom of the screen and slipping from mouths like slugs. So, there's a vindictive pleasure in cleaning up the mess of the past week. Washing old bowls, tossing undone laundry in a basket, hitting the shower. All the little things that had been neglected as @@.aa;you@@ feigned grief. By the time your hair is dry, [[the apartment looks like a new place.|Thursday1-16B]]<</if>><<set $time to "4:44 PM">><<if $search is 1>>All said and done, your free day of relaxation is dead and gone by the time you've cleaned away the last of your mother's garbage. Anything that can be tossed is tossed, heaped elsewhere on the climb for anyone to claim. At least it led to your apartment getting an inadvertent cleaning. A classic TV show once said to ask yourself the question, "Does it spark joy?" And, well, dirty dishes certainly don't. It makes @@.aa;you@@ think that @@.aa;you@@ should really be doubling down on clients to do a bit of cleaning, since it feels so //good//. But—oh—//there//. Under the coffee table. Your mother's phone. It couldn't be anyone else's—Priya's is cracked and like six years old. Yours is, well, in your pocket. Hers is shiny and new and right there on your fucking floor like a spider you're too scared to squish. How does that feel? <span id="heavy"><<linkreplace "@@.re;Heavy.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;Heavy.@@<<remove "#angry">><<remove "#tired">><<remove "#slash1">><<remove "#slash2">> Once @@.aa;you@@ pick it up, the phone sits in your hand like a dead weight. Like an anchor drowning @@.aa;you@@ in whatever shallow hope might remain that there'd been something of value between you two. [[Probably not.|Thursday1-17B][$read to 1]]<</linkreplace>></span> <span id="slash1"> / </span><span id="angry"><<linkreplace "@@.re;Angry.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;Angry.@@<<remove "#heavy">><<remove "#tired">><<remove "#slash1">><<remove "#slash2">> The phone is a lot like your mother. Hot and alive in your hand even though it's dark, dead, and uncommunicative without a charge. If there's anything—anything—[[it has to be in there.|Thursday1-17B][$read to 1]]<</linkreplace>></span><span id="slash2"> / </span><span id="tired"><<linkreplace "@@.re;...@@" t8n>>@@.re2;...@@<<remove "#angry">><<remove "#heavy">><<remove "#slash1">><<remove "#slash2">> @@.aa;You@@ click its buttons and, well, nothing happens. It's been sitting there for days, charge all used up. This is all a waste of time. But @@.aa;you@@ have to move on, like Priya said. [[It has to have something, right?|Thursday1-17B][$read to 1]]<</linkreplace>></span><<else>>Light shines off surfaces that haven't seen the sun in weeks, maybe years. Fresh air flows through a grate you'd accidentally covered with a pile of old documents, giving new life to the room. The only thing to mar the scene is the curse that breaks the silence as @@.aa;you@@ stub your toe heading past the coffee table. It wasn't on the table, though. A phone slides across the linoleum-esque flooring of your living room to thunk lazily against the far (if four feet away could be called far) wall. It's not your phone, unfortunately. Maybe Priya left hers. Maybe one materialized out of the ether like the world's new gluttonous sun. Or, more likely, it was your mother's. Separated from the rest of her belongings to make this odd temptation. <<if $mc lt 1>>[[But fuck her.|Thursday1-17B]]<<else>>[[Maybe there's something on it.|Thursday1-17B][$read to 1]] [[But actually, why should you give a shit?|Thursday1-17B]]<</if>><</if>><<if ($search is 1) or ($read is 1)>><<set $time to "4:50 PM">>Thankfully, your charger works for Mom's phone, hers now likely tossed or lost to begin with. A slow swirling logo forms from blackness, eventually giving way to a lock screen. Right. She probably has a password. <<linkreplace "@@.re;Maybe your birthday.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;Maybe your birthday.@@ <<linkreplace "@@.re;Or hers?@@" t8n>>@@.re2;Or hers?@@ <<linkreplace "@@.re;What about dad's?@@" t8n>>@@.re2;What about dad's?@@ <<linkreplace "@@.re;Or—@@" t8n>>@@.re2;Or—@@ Oh. It has no lock. A quick swipe and the home screen lays itself lewdly bare, a dozen apps with 99+ notifications wiggling themselves for attention. @@.aa;You@@ quickly scramble to turn off the sounds and buzzes as a new wave hits from its stuttering reconnection to the world. [[Start searching.|Thursday1-18B]]<</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><<else>><<set $time to "6:05 PM">>It had been hard before to consider tossing out your mother's stuff, but now it feels easy. Simple. Justified. Because this was the last invasion she would ever get on your life. @@.aa;You@@ pick up the phone from its rest near the wall, making it the first thing to find a new home in the bottom of a garbage bag. The rest of the precariously packed closet follows (in a half dozen more bags) as @@.aa;you@@ tear in with your new-found cleaning vigour. In an hour, it's all falling one hundred floors down a garbage chute to make a wiry, glass-riddled mess for the bots to clean up. The only thing left of hers burning a hole in your pocket is the money. So the last task of the day is to call an exhausted-sounding Justin. "I'll be at work tomorrow," @@.aa;you@@ say. To which he replies, "Great, we'll need you." You both say your goodbyes, hang up, and your leg doesn't stop bouncing for the next three hours until bed as @@.aa;you@@ wait eagerly for the next paycheck to tell @@.aa;you@@ that [[your life is really yours again.|Sun-Day2]]<</if>><<if $lie is 1>><<script>>$('body').addClass('icarus-to-mako')<</script>><<else>><<script>>$('body').addClass('mako')<</script>><</if>><<set $time to "7:05 AM">><<set $day to "This Sun-Day">>"Good morning, @@.aa;Mako@@."<<timed 4s t8n>> Rolling out of bed—and it is a literal roll—lacks the comfort of your usual morning tumble. No more dirty laundry turning the floor into an extended bed, and so as @@.aa;you@@ reach for a pair of socks, the only thing @@.aa;you@@ grab is one of Priya's feet.<<next 4s>> "Good morning," she says one more time before dropping a t-shirt on your head, blotting out all light.<<next 3s>> [[Untangle yourself.|Sun-Day2-1-2]]<</timed>>It takes a few seconds of awkward clawing at the shirt before @@.aa;you@@ see yourself clear and pull it on. <<if $look is 1>><<set $time to "8:05 AM">>"What the fuck are you doing here?" @@.aa;You@@ check your watch. "You're late." A moment later, you're on your feet and pushing her out of the small bedroom, into the hallway, toward the door. "Hey, hey. Slow that zag down." "Okay," @@.aa;you@@ say but don't slow down. "No matter what zag means, you have to be using it wrong." She's bigger, though, and so once @@.aa;you@@ reach the door she simply plants her back hard against it. "Hold up. No construction today." <<linkreplace "@@.re;Is it finished?@@">>@@.re2;"Is it finished?"@@ The question is imbued with many more emotions than you'd expected, and @@.aa;you@@ could put names to approximately none of them. She shakes his head. "I don't know. Last I heard we had some shortages. Orders that didn't come through." @@.aa;You@@ try and pare back the feelings. The wheat and the chaff and all that. Hard to put words to what remains, though. [[You failed her.|Sun-Day2-1-3][$mc +=1]] / [[She failed what little she had left.|Sun-Day2-1-3]]<</linkreplace>><<else>><<set $time to "7:13 AM">>"Priya. It's early. Why are you in my room?" "You're working today, aren't you?" "Yeah, and I have an alarm, actually." Your watch says it definitely isn't 7:30 yet. Oh well. You're up now. "Uh. Breakfast?" Then @@.aa;you@@ wake up a little more. "Shouldn't you be getting ready for work?" "No construction today." "Shit," @@.aa;you@@ say. "Is it finally done?" She shakes her head and hands over the pair of socks you'd been looking for. "I don't know. Last I heard we had some shortages. Orders hadn't come through." "Oh." There are a few emotions locked up in the word, though they're hard to put any names to. To think the dome would stall //here//. [[Because you hadn't cared enough to talk to her.|Sun-Day2-1-3][$mc +=1]] / [[Because she chose to give up on the only thing she had left.|Sun-Day2-1-3]]<</if>>A brief thought wonders if she'd intended to sabotage herself, or if she'd just stopped caring that much by the end. <<if $mc lte 2>>@@.aa;You@@ don't know your mother well enough anymore to say.<</if>> <<if $look is 1>><<set $time to "8:08 AM">>"You could still get a daily hire?" @@.aa;you@@ say. "It's not too late to get down there. I think the closest is... 180th? 181st? God. I don't know." @@.aa;You@@ start flipping through pages on your phone to find the address. She puts a hand over it. "Don't worry about it. I was already going to—" "No, you weren't." Nervous energy runs at your fingertips. She needs to go. "Even if you're not going to work, //I am//." "No, you're not." "Yes, I am." At her raised eyebrows, @@.aa;you@@ add, "I only have so many days of good faith to mope around. Anyway, I've got to keep busy. Coping, and all that." Priya looks entirely unconvinced. "Your mother wouldn't—" <<if $hc lte 2>>[[`"My mother wouldn't give a shit."`|Sun-Day2-1-4]] / [[`"My mother would want me to move on."`|Sun-Day2-1-4][$hc +=1]]<<else>>[[`"My mother owed me better."`|Sun-Day2-1-4]] / [[`"My mother deserved better from me."`|Sun-Day2-1-4][$hc +=1]]<</if>><<else>><<set $time to "7:17 AM">>"You're not going to get a daily hire?" @@.aa;you@@ ask. "@@.aa;Mako@@, I'm not that broke," she says. "And. You just said you're treating me to breakfast, right?" <<linkreplace "@@.re;\"Right.\"@@" t8n>><<set $time to "7:43 AM">><<updatebar>>@@.re2;"Right."@@ It's a slow-but-enthusiastic start to a morning, once the first cup of coffee hits a little while later. You're making pancakes and Priya mocks their appearance before high noon. But @@.aa;you@@ tell her if she wants to eat anything, she'll stuff it. She meekly complies. "So, how are you doing?" Priya asks between one mouthful and the next. "Well. It's been a week." "Sure has." She's silent a bit longer before saying, "Your mother—" "Is gone." The look on her face is concerned, so @@.aa;you@@ try to soften your tone. "I'm moving on." [[Because she certainly did.|Sun-Day2-1-4]] / <<if $read is 1>>[[Because she obviously wanted you to.|Sun-Day2-1-4][$hc +=1]]<<else>>[[Because, maybe, she hoped you could.|Sun-Day2-1-4][$hc +=1]]<</if>><</linkreplace>><</if>><<if $look is 1>><<set $time to "8:10 AM">>"@@.aa;Mako@@..."<<if $hc lte 2>> Even if she never cared, for some dumb fucking reason, @@.aa;you@@ do. Maybe it's just to prove that you're better than her. Maybe it's just some fault in the way @@.aa;you@@ were made.<</if>> "How about let's not talk about her, okay?" @@.aa;you@@ say. "Get a temp, Priya. Get a temp because who knows when building will start again, and even then, it's almost finished. Maybe. @@.bb;Mom@@ was in charge of that and she fucked it up, she left us—" //left me//. Priya's silence is its own reply. "I'm going to work," @@.aa;you@@ say. "Okay." But she follows @@.aa;you@@ out your front door, not noticing the grey rod @@.aa;you@@ quickly grab and conceal in your bag. It fits snugly beside the letter you're too afraid to open. "Bye, Priya," @@.aa;you@@ say at the elevator. "Yeah, yeah." [[She gets on and hits the button for the 200th.|Sun-Day2-1-5]]<<else>><<set $time to "8:10 AM">>"@@.aa;Mako@@..."<<if $read is 1>> "Sorry." Your plates are almost empty now. "It's just, I found a note from my mom last night." "Oh." She taps a finger on the table. "Do you want to talk about it?" You take a breath. <<linkreplace "@@.re;\"I guess I should.\"@@" t8n>>@@.re2;"I guess I should."@@ The note is still banging around your head, despite your best efforts at forgetting it. "But can we talk while we walk? I've got to get to work." "Sure, yeah. Whatever you need." [[`"Thanks."`|Sun-Day2-1-5Note]]<</linkreplace>><<else>> "Sorry. It's just like I said..." Your plates are almost empty now. "It's been a week." "Don't worry," Priya says. "Everyone's having them." @@.aa;You@@ laugh, though @@.aa;you@@ wish there was a bit more heart in it. What a fucking week, huh. Moments of laughter and aimless sadness encapsulated by the feeling that there should be something grander at play. Anyway, breakfast is over, and so @@.aa;you@@ start cleaning up the plates and tell Priya it's time to leave for work. "Mind if I come?" She politely phrases it as a question, but she's coming anyway. So @@.aa;you@@ say, "Of course not," and [[head for the elevators.|Sun-Day2-1-5]]<</if>><</if>><<set $time to "8:13 AM">><<if $look is 1>>It's a silent elevator ride up, though it's the kind that speaks volumes. It's the kind that's Priya pleading for @@.aa;you@@ to speak and be normal for five minutes, but the feeling—that feeling of riding an elevator up when your insides just... disappear—sits with @@.aa;you@@ even after exiting the elevator. Two skyways later, you're at the door to work. @@.aa;You@@ try to say with your body that yes, //this// is where Priya leaves. But she doesn't, coming right into the small complex of rooms that bear little more than a simple, unornamented sign that says, "Grief Counseling" in block letters. The receptionist—Jen, you'd always liked them—smiles as @@.aa;you@@ enter. "Oh, hi @@.aa;Mako@@!" They pause. "Here to work, or... Should I get Justin?" <<linkreplace "@@.re;\"Work.\"@@" t8n>><<set $time to "8:24 AM">>@@.re2;"Work."@@ The word is clipped, and @@.aa;you@@ turn on Priya next. "Now //go//. I'm on the clock." "I'll see you at lunch," she says. "I'll be busy." "You might want to stay in," Jen adds unnecessarily. They tap their watch, which isn't beeping, but has a scrolling feed even in sleep: //@@.note;Avoid areas between the 159th and 160th climb between 12:44 and 12:48 PM. Watch for further updates.@@// "See," @@.aa;you@@ say. "Busy day." "Lunch," she says, [[claiming the last word.|Sun-Day2-2-1]]<</linkreplace>><<else>>Work is up on the 200th floor, so the two of you have 100 floors of small talk to make, not that it's difficult. The smooth conversation compensates for the stutters, starts, and stops the elevator makes on its way up, taking a full thirty minutes at this time of day. @@.aa;You@@ feel lighter getting off the elevator, and it's not even from the relative thinness of the air up here. It's the perfect mood for work, which the two of you arrive at <<linkreplace "@@.re;a few minutes later.@@">><<set $time to "8:24 AM">>@@.re2;a few minutes later.@@ "Thanks for coming with," @@.aa;you@@ say. "But please, //please// let me know if you do need a bit of money, okay? Especially if construction doesn't start back up and you can't find anything." Before she can protest, @@.aa;you@@ add, "That's not optional." "I'll come back at lunch?" she says and gives @@.aa;you@@ a hug, which you both hold for ten, twenty, thirty seconds outside the door to work. Breaking apart, @@.aa;you@@ glance at your watch. <<linkreplace "@@.re;It's just a scrolling feed.@@">>@@.re2;It's just a scrolling feed:@@ //@@.note;Avoid areas between the 159th and 160th climb between 12:44 and 12:48 PM. Watch for further updates.@@//<</linkreplace>> [[`"I'd appreciate that."`|Sun-Day2-1-6]]<</linkreplace>><</if>><<set $time to "8:13 AM">>You set off for your workplace together. It's a short walk to the elevators but a long ride up, going from home on the 100th floor to the 200th. The elevator takes five minutes just to arrive, and at this time of day the ride up is going to be an eternity. Plenty of time to talk. @@.aa;You@@ dance around the topic for far longer than necessary before finally saying, <<if $note is 1>>"It was completely fucking half-assed. Maybe I'm just thinking too much about it, but, fuck." "Yeah?" "Yeah. It was this piss off little thing. 'Shun' and just one fucking word: goodbye." "Well." Priya makes a sound that lets @@.aa;you@@ know she's about to say something tactless. "Not to speak ill of the dead, but fuck her." <<if $mc gte 2>>"I don't know. I guess it didn't look like something she meant to send." She shakes her head. "You don't have to defend her, @@.aa;Mako@@. If I'm not saying fuck her for that, I'll say fuck her for leaving you." "It couldn't have been that simple for her." "You don't know that." She's taken one of your hands. Just a few more floors before work. "I know your professional side will feel obligated to explain the profound complexities of love and depression and loss and how, if we'd just put ourselves in her shoes, maybe we'd understand." @@.aa;You@@ nod. "But you can understand that and still say she fucked you over. Still say your love and loss and depression and everything else is important, too, and that it's okay for her to have fucked with you, and for you to be angry. If you put yourself in //your// shoes, you'd understand." The elevator dings, and you're finally at the 200th floor, spilling out of the elevator with two other very uncomfortable bystanders who jet for the nearest skyway. "You should take my shift today," @@.aa;you@@ say. "Pardon?" @@.aa;You@@ laugh reflexively. "You're good at this." [[She gives you a hug.|Sun-Day2-1-6Note]]<<else>>"Yeah." @@.aa;You@@ nod. "Fuck her." Though there is a twinge of guilt, if only from your professional side. Dutifully, @@.aa;you@@ make sure to acknowledge that whatever she was going through was difficult (not that it was any different from @@.aa;you@@) and that it must have seemed like the only option to her (not that @@.aa;you@@ weren't around with a job tailored to help). "God. I'm bad at moving on." "Don't worry," she says. The elevator dings; you've finally arrived at the 200th floor, and two very awkward fellow riders jet off toward the nearest skyway. "It'll get easier." You're able to bite back the cynical side now that says Priya doesn't know what she's talking about, and just say, "Thanks." At the door to work, the two of you stop. [[She gives you a hug.|Sun-Day2-1-6Note]]<</if>><<elseif $note is 2>>"It was so half-assed. It literally just said, 'so //Shun// you miss bro and pa yeah? Me too! That's why I'm going to go fucking fling myself into the sun.'" @@.aa;You@@ frown. "Maybe I'm embellishing a little, but that was the gist of it." "Yeah?" "Yeah.<<if $mc gte 2>> And I guess I do understand, sort of. I do miss them. I hate that they're dead, but she can't even admit it. It's a horrible coping strategy, if I ever saw one." "You don't have to defend her." "I'm not. I'm just saying... Okay, I'm defending her a bit. But if I understood her better, I could have helped." She just raises an eyebrow. @@.aa;You@@ throw your hands up. "Sorry! Yes, I should know better." There's a checklist @@.aa;you@@ run through with each and every person @@.aa;you@@ counsel. At the top is just three words: Don't blame yourself. The elevator dings and you're finally at the 200th floor, two very awkward fellow riders jetting off to the nearest skyway at high speed. In a few more steps, you're at work. You both pause at the door, and [[Priya gives you a hug.|Sun-Day2-1-6Note]]<<else>> Oh well, I guess." Priya raises an eyebrow. "Oh well?" "Well, not 'oh well,' but you know." "Everything you're saying is nonsense, @@.aa;Mako@@." "Oh well." She looks like she's going to tear her hair out, and @@.aa;you@@ just laugh. "I'm hoping irreverence is the first step to moving on." "Fair enough." The elevator dings and you're finally at the 200th floor, two very awkward fellow riders jetting off to the nearest skyway at high speed. In a few more steps, you're at work. "If she wanted help, she could have come to me," @@.aa;you@@ say, stopped out front of work. "But she didn't, and she's not my god damn responsibility." It's more one of those things you tell yourselves in hopes that it's true than because it is, but it's the right start. It's where @@.aa;you@@ start with clients, anyway. [[She gives you a hug.|Sun-Day2-1-6Note]]<</if>><<elseif $note is 3>>"She got the name right," @@.aa;you@@ say with a <<if $mc is 2>>shaky <</if>>laugh. "It's been so long since I heard from her, I'm almost surprised." "Would it be cliché for me to suggest she cared, in her own way?" "Oh, definitely.<<if $mc is 2>> It didn't feel great, though. She thinks they're still alive. That she'll find them, and that that'll fix them." @@.aa;You@@ clench a fist. "//I'm right here//. If she cared so much, why not start with me?" Priya shrugged. "Is that the best question to ask?" @@.aa;You@@ sigh. "No, it's not." Five years' counseling experience, and @@.aa;you@@ can barely follow your own best practice. "Right. She screwed you over and I know this might not be something you'd tell a client, but it's okay to be mad at her. It's okay to stop caring about her. Every ounce of care she had for you is worth nothing if it's expressed in her suicide note. You deserve better." There's a dozen replies @@.aa;you@@ want to make—that it couldn't have been so easy for your mom, that @@.aa;you@@ should try and see things from her perspective, that maybe it was your fault for not seeking her out. But they all track down your list of things not to do when @@.aa;you@@ have Priya right there in front of @@.aa;you@@, forcing @@.aa;you@@ to be the patient, not the counselor. So your best response is, "Yeah, you're right." The elevator dings and you're finally at the 200th floor, two very awkward fellow riders jetting off to the nearest skyway at high speed. In a few more steps, you're at work. You both pause at the door, and [[Priya gives you a hug.|Sun-Day2-1-6Note]]<<else>> It just feels kinda shitty since, I don't know. It seems like she cared. And I... don't. I'm gutted I have no fucking family left. I feel like I'm reliving the loss of everyone all over again. But for her it's just..." "Family's more than blood, Mako." @@.aa;You@@ narrow your eyes at her. "Don't you //dare// quote 21st century TV at me, Priya." "I don't know, it went long enough to be almost 22nd century." "My point //is// that I still care that I don't care. What am I supposed to do with that? It's like a set of scales that will never balance. She left me everything." "//My// point is that it's okay not to care. See, that's the thing about relationships. At least to me. If one person cares and the other doesn't, then there isn't one. If someone I hardly knew anymore suddenly sent me a letter, do you know what I'd think?" "What?" "That they're a stalker. I wouldn't feel obligated to care back." "Okay, but she's my mother." Priya shrugs. "Honestly? Your life is gonna suck if you spend the rest of it trying to love someone you can never see again." Then she makes a strained face. "Oof. Okay. Sorry, I think that came out... a lot worse than I meant it to." It's hard to respond to, especially when she's right. "Don't worry, I get what you mean." The elevator dings and you're finally at the 200th floor, two very awkward fellow riders jetting off to the nearest skyway at high speed. In a few more steps, you're at work. You both pause at the door, and [[Priya gives you a hug.|Sun-Day2-1-6Note]]<</if>><</if>><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "fan" fadeout>><<audio "fanquiet" loop volume 0 fadeto 0.1>><</if>><<set $day to "Last Sun-Day">><<set $time to "2:25 PM">>Last Sun-Day, your home was a mess. Paper everywhere, not because @@.bb;you@@ liked to be messy, but because the stacks could only get so high, and when tails wagged so quickly, things got messy. Not like @@.bb;you@@ had time to clean it up. <<linkreplace "@@.re;Your watch was a scrolling warning now.@@">>@@.re2;Your watch was a scrolling warning now:@@ @@.note;//Avoid areas between the 122nd and 125th climb between 4:21 and 4:25 PM. Watch for further updates.//@@ Swiping past the latest update, @@.bb;you@@ saw it was already past 2 PM. Shouldn't have slept in. Should have called someone about the dog.<<if $hc gte 3>> Should have done something more about @@.aa;Mako@@, but what would that even be at this point.<</if>> Should have dealt with the papers, if nothing else—order your affairs, as Icarus had put it. Why should @@.bb;you@@? The flutter of joy was hard to overcome; @@.bb;you@@ were ready to leave. The grey rod didn't fit in your small purse, sticking out from it like an umbrella, so @@.bb;you@@ opted to just hold it in hand instead, the dog's leash going in the other. <span id="go">[[Go.|Sun-Day2-2-2]]</span><<if $hc gte 3>><span id="slash"> / </span><<linkreplace "Wait.">><<remove "#go">><<remove "#slash">>@@.re2;Wait.@@ What would it take to call @@.aa;Mako@@? What if @@.bb;you@@ just... walked into her work. Because your head wasn't on right, was it. Because flying up into the sun seemed like a good idea to @@.bb;you@@. But the thought of the sun catches and traps @@.bb;you@@ tight. The excitement. The anticipation. The desire to know and to see. And, more than anything, [[the desire to find.|Sun-Day2-2-2]]<</linkreplace>><</if>><</linkreplace>><<set $time to "8:24 AM">>Priya heads off to whatever she plans to do with her day, and @@.aa;you@@ head in to work, which is small complex of rooms that bear little more than a simple, unornamented sign saying, "Grief Counseling" in block letters. <<linkreplace "@@.re;\"Hey, Mako!\"@@" t8n>>@@.re2;"Hey, Mako!"@@ The receptionist, Jen, is already in the process of getting reception set up for the day. "Justin said you'd be in today. How are you doing?" @@.aa;You@@ take a breath. "Better." A smile. [[`"Thanks for asking."`|Sun-Day2-2-1]]<</linkreplace>><<set $time to "8:23 AM">>It lasts ten, twenty, thirty seconds before finally breaking. "I'll come back at lunch?" Priya asks. @@.aa;You@@ glance at your watch, which isn't beeping but has a scrolling feed even in sleep: //@@.note;Avoid areas between the 159th and 160th climb between 12:44 and 12:48 PM. Watch for further updates.@@// "Yeah. I'd appreciate that." "See you at lunch, then." [[`"See you at lunch."`|Sun-Day2-1-6]]<<set $time to "2:31 PM">>It's a way to the 122nd climb, and there's going to be a lot of stairs. Don't trust the elevators. But @@.bb;you@@ should have budgeted your time right. There was no way @@.bb;you@@ could wait until next Sun-Day. <span id="oh3">So keep moving. </span><span id="oh">Except... Had @@.bb;you@@ locked the door? You're already one skyway away from home, the world seeming to have breezed by. There was just a memory of the rod, the dog, stepping out into the light, and now @@.bb;you@@ were here. Might be good to— No. There was no looking back no distraction no fucking point thinking about a locked door you'd never walk through again. </span><<linkreplace "@@.re;(((Oh.)))@@" t8n>><<replace "#oh" t8n>><span id="oh2">@@.re2;(((Oh.)))@@</span><</replace>><<timed 3s t8n>><<replace "#oh3" t8n>><</replace>><<replace "#oh2" t8n>>@@.re2;So you picked up your pace,@@ the world sliding by like so much litter in the waterways. @@.bb;You@@ bounce with each step, [[the dog happily sharing your mood.|Sun-Day2-2-3]]<</replace>><</timed>><</linkreplace>><<set $time to "2:42 PM">>He barked grumpily—once—when @@.bb;you@@ dragged him away from some particularly interesting piss-stained corner of a skyway, but there were always others. The dog's legs worked furiously to keep up with your pace and gain enough time to sniff around. The journey gave so much time to think, which was a point @@.bb;you@@ were torn on. Were there things to come to peace with, or was it better to keep your brain on lockdown? Thoughts flitted in and out like bugs through a broken screen regardless—should they be squashed, swatted, saved? Considered, measured, realized? They came and went too quickly, the one overbearing beast in your consciousness taking up primary residence. <span id="go">[[You were going to see them.|Sun-Day2-2-4]]</span><<if $hc gte 3>><span id="slash"> / </span><<linkreplace "Wait—think, just for a second.">><<remove "#slash">><<remove "#go">>''@@.re2;Wait.@@'' This could have been a mistake. It really could have been. So maybe it would be good to just stop, sit, think. But your feet were still moving because, well, if @@.bb;you@@ didn't keep moving @@.bb;you@@ were going to be late @@.bb;you@@ were going to be late @@.bb;you@@ were going to be late @@.bb;you@@ were going to be late @@.bb;you@@ were going to be late @@.bb;you@@ [[were going to see them.|Sun-Day2-2-4]]<</linkreplace>><</if>><<set $time to "2:45 PM">><span id="floor9">There. </span><span id="floor8">The 122nd climb was under @@.bb;you@@, sore feet on your mind as @@.bb;you@@ eyed the elevators, but they still lagged and stalled and were no more trustworthy than the boats, so it was time for the stairs. Yes, stairs. </span><span id="floor6">@@.bb;You@@ lived on the 250th, so that meant—okay, the math was discouraging. Should have left sooner, or gone in the morning. But— </span><span id="floor5">@@.bb;You@@ kept walking. </span><span id="floor3">And it was easy, at first, for while malicious civil engineers and uncaring residents of the San Fran area hadn't done enough to avoid this horrible arrangement, they had, at least, tried to make the best of a bad situation. </span><span id="floor2">Sturdy railings and well-maintained steps meant, if nothing else, that the probability of slipping and dying were low. </span><<linkreplace "@@.re;50 floors to go.@@" t8n>><<script>>$('body').addClass('down-five');<</script>><<replace "#floor2" t8n>><</replace>><<set $time to "2:58 PM">><<updatebar>><div style="text-align: center"><<linkreplace "@@.re;45 floors to go.@@" t8n>>><<script>>$('body').addClass('down-ten');<</script>><<replace "#floor3" t8n>><</replace>><<set $time to "3:06 PM">><<updatebar>><<linkreplace "@@.re;40 floors to go.@@" t8n>>><<script>>$('body').addClass('down-fifteen');<</script>><<replace "#floor5" t8n>><</replace>><<set $time to "3:14 PM">><<updatebar>><<linkreplace "@@.re;35 floors to go.@@" t8n>>><<script>>$('body').addClass('down-twenty');<</script>><<replace "#floor6" t8n>><</replace>><<set $time to "3:23 PM">><<updatebar>><<linkreplace "@@.re;30 floors to go.@@" t8n>>><<script>>$('body').addClass('down-twenty-five');<</script>><<replace "#floor8" t8n>><</replace>><<set $time to "3:30 PM">><<updatebar>><<linkreplace "@@.re;25 floors to go.@@" t8n>>><<script>>$('body').addClass('down-thirty');<</script>><<replace "#floor9" t8n>><</replace>><<set $time to "3:35 PM">><<updatebar>>@@.re2;Halfway there.@@<<timed 5s t8n>> At this height, the low clouds that liked to hug the city were a distant memory. The air's so thin that all the floors were shelled in with glass <span id="glass">@@.re2;(((your glass)))@@</span> <<timed 10s>><<replace "#glass" t8n>><</replace>><</timed>>to go with the nets and warnings and stabilizers demanding compliance. The 122nd was still near the core of the city, but the dome felt so much closer than usual. Like it was just in reach. The hole brought in a welcome afternoon light and a building-swaying easterly breeze. [[Keep going.|Sun-Day2-2-5]]<<if $hc gte 3>> / [[Catch your breath.|Sun-Day2-2-4-2]]<</if>><</timed>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>></div><</linkreplace>><<set $time to "3:33 PM">><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "watchslow" loop volume 0.1 play>><</if>><div id="stop" style="font-size: 3em; text-align: center"> <<if visited("Sun-Day2-2-4-2")>>Stop wasting time.<<else>>You're running out of time.<</if>> </div><<timed 5s t8n>><<replace "#stop" t8n>><</replace>><span id="floor8">Twenty-five more floors will hopefully take no time at all, even if the lactic acid burned like all hell and now it'd been six floors since your last break but— </span>//There. <span id="floor9">Ah. Rest.</span>// <span id="floor7"> The dog looked exhausted, his tail stiff and reserved as he looked up with a gaze that asked, "Dinner?"<<if $hc gte 3>> But @@.bb;you@@ weren't stopping for @@.aa;Mako@@ so why would @@.bb;you@@ stop for him? Stupid little shit.<</if>> </span><span id="floor6">There was one man—and just one, the entire climb—who shot @@.bb;you@@ a look as he hurriedly took the steps down two-at-a-time. You'd nodded, so he'd shrugged and kept going. </span><span id="floor4">It's funny, though. @@.bb;You@@ should have gotten slower the higher @@.bb;you@@ got. Your body was never built for this.</span><span id="floor2"> But even with the screaming legs and the burning lungs, @@.bb;you@@ picked up the pace. </span> <<linkreplace "@@.re;20 floors to go.@@" t8n>><<script>>$('body').addClass('down-thirty-five');<</script>><<replace "#floor2" t8n>><</replace>><<set $time to "3:45 PM">><<updatebar>><div style="text-align: center"><<linkreplace "@@.re;15 floors to go.@@" t8n>>><<script>>$('body').addClass('down-forty');<</script>><<replace "#floor4" t8n>><</replace>><<set $time to "3:58 PM">><<updatebar>><<linkreplace "@@.re;10 floors to go.@@" t8n>>><<script>>$('body').addClass('down-forty-five');<</script>><<replace "#floor6" t8n>><</replace>><<set $time to "4:10 PM">><<updatebar>><<linkreplace "@@.re;5 floors to go.@@" t8n>>><<script>>$('body').addClass('down-forty-nine');<</script>><<replace "#floor7" t8n>><</replace>><<set $time to "4:16 PM">><<linkreplace "@@.re;One floor to go.@@" t8n>>><<script>>$('body').addClass('down-fifty');<</script>><<replace "#floor8" t8n>><</replace>><<replace "#floor9" t8n>><</replace>><<set $time to "4:20 PM">><<updatebar>><<timed 2s t8n>><div style="text-align: center">//Ah.//</div><<next 3s t8n>> <div style="text-align: right">//[[Rest.|Sun-Day2-2-6]]//</div><<next 2s>><<goto "Sun-Day2-2-6">><</timed>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>></div><</linkreplace>><</timed>> <div style="text-align: center; font-size: 3em">''[[You can't.|Sun-Day2-2-5]]''</div><<widget "updatebar">><<silently>> <<replace "#header">><<display "Header">><</replace>> <</silently>><</widget>><<set $time to "4:22 PM">><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "roof" loop volume 0 fadeto 0.3>><</if>>It was so nice up on the 300th floor. Your dog flagged on the last landing, and there'd been a moment of consideration—leave him?—before you'd picked him up and carried him up the last flight. It was a symbolic victory, of sorts, to see that through. There were no apartments or stores or bazaars or neat government cubicles up on the 300th. Just exhaust stacks belching burned garbage into the sky (propelled to vents in the dome) from the center of half the climbs. Ten-foot-tall barbed-wire fences curved in like fingers to prevent any climbers. And now, the dome above @@.bb;you@@ was tinted black as a night sky scrubbed clean of stars, except for that five-degree slice of open air, just off to your left and //up//. It showed the sun and an unfiltered sky hinting at life, somewhere else. The sun was too bright to look at for more than a split second, of course. Multi-hued disks burned themselves into your vision. But @@.bb;you@@ wanted to see what it looked like when it changed. Your watch was just a red-and-black countdown. [[One more minute.|Sun-Day2-2-7]]<<set $timer to 1>><<set $time to 59>><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "watchslow" stop>><<audio "watchfast" loop volume 0.1 play>><</if>>It was just @@.bb;you@@ and the sky and whatever garbage littered the roof, unable to escape those fences. A few moments to think. To think—think. Of? <<if $hc lte 1>><<linkreplace "@@.re;You're going to see them.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;You're going to see them.@@ You're going to see them. You're going to see them. You're going to see them. With the energy currently coursing through your body, it felt like @@.bb;you@@ could have reached them with a single jump. <<linkreplace "@@.re;Jump.@@" t8n>><<script>>$('body').addClass('jump');<</script>><<timed 1s>><<script>>$('body').removeClass('jump');<</script>><</timed>>@@.re2;Jump.@@ No. It didn't work. Stupid. Why did @@.bb;you@@ think it would? <<linkreplace "@@.re;Jump.@@" t8n>><<script>>$('body').addClass('jump');<</script>><<timed 1s>><<script>>$('body').removeClass('jump');<</script>><</timed>>@@.re2;Jump.@@ Still on the ground. Sun glared down; the rod grew sweaty in your hand. //Stupid.// <<linkreplace "@@.re;Jump.@@" t8n>><<script>>$('body').addClass('jump');<</script>><<timed 1s>><<script>>$('body').removeClass('jump');<</script>><</timed>>@@.re2;Jump.@@ Okay. That was the last one, your ankle crunching softly as @@.bb;you@@ landed off-centre on the roof's sun-bleached concrete. After the stairs, your body felt like it wanted to die—pain in your thigh, soles, ankles, back, hands gripped too-tight on leash and rod and the last few seconds you're going to have. //Relax.// It couldn't be long now. <<linkreplace "@@.re;Check your watch.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;Check your watch.@@ It only read: @@.note;00:$time@@. Still so long? Was it broken? <<linkreplace "@@.re;Count the seconds.@@" t8n>><<timed 4s>><<goto "Sun-Day2-2-8t8n">><</timed>>@@.re2;Count the seconds.@@ <div style="text-align: center" id="countdown">@@.note;00:$time@@</div><<silently>> <<repeat 1s>> <<if $time gt 0>> <<replace "#countdown">>@@.note;00:$time@@<</replace>><<updatebar>> <<else>> <<stop>> <</if>> <</repeat>> <</silently>>It would have been so great if there had been time to figure out a couple more things. Talk to Icarus about when you'd be coming back. Get the house ready. Tell @@.aa;Mako@@—well, you'd tell her something. It would make perfect sense, and she'd understand, and well. You've got to just put that behind @@.bb;you@@ now.<</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><<elseif $hc is 2>><<linkreplace "@@.re;This had to be the right decision.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;This had to be the right decision,@@ right? @@.bb;You@@ were a businesswoman, used to make hard decisions day-in and day-out because that was your //job//. And there'd never been a harder decision than this. <<linkreplace "@@.re;But you had to be rational.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;But you had to be rational.@@ @@.bb;You@@ did this for the same reason you'd started the construction of the dome—it wasn't //good// for people. The air quality had tanked and would only get worse. The sense that you were cordoned off from the world—both its good and its bad—made people feel like specimens in a jar. But it was good for them. It was, in fact, //best//, if no one was to be lost ever again. <<linkreplace "@@.re;(((Except for you.)))@@" t8n>><span id="you">@@.re2;(((Except for you.)))@@ </span><<timed 4s>><<remove "#you">><</timed>>The thought was there and then it was gone, because again, @@.bb;you@@ were being rational here. Shu—//no//—@@.aa;Mako@@. The correction was almost immediate and violent, because if @@.bb;you@@ could at least it get right now, if no where else. <<linkreplace "@@.re;See?@@" t8n>>@@.re2;See?@@ Rational—@@.bb;you@@ were leaving someone @@.bb;you@@ couldn't help for those @@.bb;you@@ could. It was a numbers game. So relax. It couldn't be long now. (((The world inside @@.bb;you@@ was on fire with... something.))) <<linkreplace "@@.re;Check your watch.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;Check your watch.@@ It only read: @@.note;00:$time@@. Still so long? Was it broken? <<linkreplace "@@.re;Count the seconds.@@" t8n>><<timed 4s>><<goto "Sun-Day2-2-8t8n">><</timed>>@@.re2;Count the seconds.@@ <div style="text-align: center" id="countdown">@@.note;00:$time@@</div><<silently>> <<repeat 1s>> <<if $time gt 0>> <<replace "#countdown">>@@.note;00:$time@@<</replace>><<updatebar>> <<else>> <<stop>> <</if>> <</repeat>> <</silently>>Maybe that was enough time to leave @@.aa;Mako@@ a little something more. Just a quick little message to reassure her—her—that really, //really// @@.bb;you@@ loved her—her—and always would. That @@.bb;you@@ were going to bring them back, and you'd all be happy again. And, yes, @@.bb;you@@ were selfish, but this was the kind of selfishness that would benefit everyone. The best kind.<</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><<elseif $hc lte 4>>@@.bb;You@@ shouldn't be thinking about @@.aa;Mako@@ now, <<linkreplace "@@.re;but it's hard not to.@@">>@@.re2;but it's hard not to.@@ It was something like a desperate hope, the hope that she would understand. @@.bb;You@@ could <<linkreplace "@@.re;bring them back to her.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;bring them back to both of you.@@ Sure, Icarus had said things weren't that far along. But that was why @@.bb;you@@ were doing this. //That's why @@.bb;you@@ were doing this.// <<linkreplace "@@.re;It just made sense.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;It just made sense.@@ @@.bb;You@@ hoped those weren't tears on your cheeks. It was getting hard to stand up there, the sun so bright a burn had already begun to scorch your face. The dome would still be finished. It didn't need @@.bb;you@@. <<linkreplace "@@.re;Take a breath.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;Take a breath.@@ It went in and out easy(ish). Good. @@.bb;You@@ just had to make it a //little// bit farther. <<linkreplace "@@.re;Breathe.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;Breathe.@@ //Please, breathe.// <<timed 4s>><<remove "#cry">><</timed>><span id="cry">Stop crying.</span> It couldn't be long now. <<linkreplace "@@.re;Check your watch.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;Check your watch.@@ It only read: @@.note;00:$time@@. Still so long? Was it broken? <<linkreplace "@@.re;Count the seconds.@@" t8n>><<timed 3s>><<goto "Sun-Day2-2-8t8n">><</timed>>@@.re2;Count the seconds.@@ <div style="text-align: center" id="countdown">@@.note;00:$time@@</div><<silently>> <<repeat 1s>> <<if $time gt 0>> <<replace "#countdown">>@@.note;00:$time@@<</replace>><<updatebar>> <<else>> <<stop>> <</if>> <</repeat>> <</silently>>Shit, this was it, wasn't it? @@.bb;you@@ thought. And thought. And thought. And thought. Conflicted and frustrated and angry because @@.bb;you@@ just wasted your last-minute thinking about //nothing// important. Could have thought about questions and answers. Maybe sent another real goodbye. But all @@.bb;you@@ did was this.<</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><<else>><<linkreplace "@@.re;Fuck.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;Fuck.@@ The tears should have come earlier, probably. Should have come a day or a week or years ago when @@.bb;you@@ first, intellectually, acknowledged that loss might be something @@.bb;you@@ were experiencing. What would have been the point, though? <<linkreplace "@@.re;They weren't helping now.@@">>@@.re2;They weren't helping now.@@ Anything but, really. It was hard to make coherent thought because there hadn't been anything that started the tears, had there? <<linkreplace "@@.re;Mako?@@" t8n>>@@.re2;Mako?@@ Oh, that definitely made things worse, if nothing else. A fresh sob stabbed at @@.bb;you@@ because why couldn't @@.bb;you@@ have done better? Why did @@.bb;you@@ have to leave her with grief? <<linkreplace "@@.re;You did have to, though.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;You did have to, though.@@ It would just have been nice to be able to explain better than the letter Icarus held onto for her. Something a little more... authentic. Something to let her know you'd be back. <<linkreplace "@@.re;Sooner or later.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;Sooner or later.@@ The thought was a promise, a mantra that started to repeat over and over until the thought finally broke in: was it time yet? <<linkreplace "@@.re;Check your watch.@@">>@@.re2;Check your watch.@@ It only read: @@.note;00:$time@@. Still so long? Was it broken? <<linkreplace "@@.re;Count the seconds.@@" t8n>><<timed 3s>><<goto "Sun-Day2-2-8t8n">><</timed>>@@.re2;Count the seconds.@@ <div style="text-align: center" id="countdown">@@.note;00:$time@@</div><<silently>> <<repeat 1s>> <<if $time gt 0>> <<replace "#countdown">>@@.note;00:$time@@<</replace>><<updatebar>> <<else>> <<stop>> <</if>> <</repeat>> <</silently>>The thinking didn't really solve anything, did it? It should have been a time to come to terms and make peace or whatever the fuck else people were supposed to do before they—went. @@.bb;You@@ would be back. @@.bb;You@@ would be back. @@.bb;You@@ would be back. @@.bb;You@@ would be back. @@.bb;You@@ would be back. @@.bb;You@@ would be back.<</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</if>><<silently>> <<repeat 1s>> <<set $time to $time - 1>> <<if $time gt 0>> <<updatebar>> <<else>> <<goto "Sun-Day2-2-8t8n">> <</if>> <</repeat>> <</silently>><<set $time to "Stay Indoors">><<set $timer to 0>><div class="view2; container"><span id="static">[img[art/ascentstatic.png]]</span><<timed 3s>><<remove "#static">>[img[art/ascent.gif]]<div class="centered" id="nar">The sun left.</div><<timed 2s t8n>><<replace "#nar" t8n>>The leash dropped.<</replace>><<next 3s>><<replace "#nar" t8n>>But the rod stayed tight in your hand.<</replace>><<next 3s>><<replace "#nar" t8n>>@@.bb;You@@ couldn't stop looking, even if @@.bb;you@@ wanted to.<</replace>><<next 4s>><<replace "#nar" t8n>>Even to let someone—anyone—know how much it hurt to look at something so bright.<</replace>><<next 4s>><<replace "#nar" t8n>>Was it cleansing fire?<</replace>><<next 3s>><<replace "#nar" t8n>>Divine judgement?<</replace>><<next 3s>><<replace "#nar" t8n>>Whatever it was, it was pain.<</replace>><<next 4s>><<goto "Sun-Day2-2-9">><</timed>><</timed>></div><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "watchfast" stop>><<audio "WatchChorusEnd" volume 0.1 play>><</if>>But there was none of that desperately clinging to life garbage, in the end. @@.bb;You@@ had decided, above everything else, that @@.bb;you@@ weren't going to die. @@.bb;You@@ were going to find<<if $hc gte 3>> @@.aa;Mako@@ something worth giving<</if>>. And maybe, just maybe, <<linkreplace "@@.re;be found.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;be found.@@ In thirty seconds, an alert would go off in some government office. In an hour, <<if $hc lt 3>>[[Mako would be trying to grieve.|Sun-DayEndFunnel]]<<else>>[[she would be trying to grieve.|Sun-DayEndFunnel]]<</if>><</linkreplace>><<if $look is 1>> <<goto "Sun-Day2-1-7A">> <<else>> <<if $read is 1>> <<goto "Sun-Day2-1-7B">> <<else>> <<goto "Sun-Day2-1-7C">> <</if>> <</if>><<set $day to "This Sun-Day">><<set $time to "12:17 PM">><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "fanquiet" fadeout>><<audio "roof" fadeout>><<audio "fan" loop volume 0 fadeto 0.1>><</if>>"I'm so grateful for everything—can I see you at the same time next week?" The woman has an anxious demeanor, but after talking to @@.aa;you@@ for more than her hour, she seems more relaxed. You've made a difference here, if nowhere else. Fancy that. "Jen'll set up an appointment for next week. With me." The last two words hold odd deliberation, but the woman takes them as sincerity. "Take a breather here. She'll have lunch out, too." [[`"That sounds very good. Very good. Thank you."`|Sun-Day2-1-8C]]<<set $day to "This Sun-Day">><<set $time to "12:01 PM">><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "fanquiet" fadeout>><<audio "roof" fadeout>><<audio "fan" loop volume 0 fadeto 0.1>><</if>>"I'm so grateful for everything—can I see you at the same time next week?" The woman has an anxious demeanor, but after talking to @@.aa;you@@ for an hour, she seems relaxed. @@.aa;You@@ open the door to your office to see her out and say, "Jen can set you up for an appointment next week." The statement brings a brief moment of vertigo, the last two words "with me" getting stuck in your throat. Instead, @@.aa;you@@ continue, "Take a breather in here and book the appointment." "That sounds very good. Very good. [[Thank you.|Sun-Day2-1-8A]]"<<set $day to "This Sun-Day">><<set $time to "12:17 PM">><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "fanquiet" fadeout>><<audio "roof" fadeout>><<audio "fan" loop volume 0 fadeto 0.1>><</if>>"I'm so grateful for everything—can I see you at the same time next week?" The woman has an anxious demeanor, but after talking to @@.aa;you@@ for more than her hour, she seems more relaxed. You've made a difference here, if nowhere else. Fancy that. "Jen'll set up an appointment for next week. With me." The last two words hold odd deliberation, but the woman takes them as sincerity. "Take a breather here. She'll have lunch out, too." [[`"That sounds very good. Very good. Thank you."`|Sun-Day2-1-8B]]<<set $time to "12:03 PM">>Reception is empty, other than Jen, who smiles at the two of you and starts chatting to the client about possible times and days for next week. "I'm going out for lunch," @@.aa;you@@ say. Jen might've answered, but @@.aa;you@@ were already out the door. And there Priya is, sitting against the opposite wall. "Did you even leave?" "Of course I did." She smiles and holds up two wrapped sandwiches. "I got us lunch." @@.aa;You@@ sidestep, trying to make sure the rod in your bag remains unobtrusive. "I'm getting something for myself." [[`"For fuck sake, Mako."`|Sun-Day2-1-9A]]<<set $time to "12:06 PM">>Priya might be seated, but she's poised to whip one of the sandwiches—at the wall, at @@.aa;you@@, it's not quite clear. Then she lowers it. "How can you just sit there for the entire fucking morning helping someone, and then come out like this?" "It's my job." "I'm no psychologist, but I've known you long enough to know what dissociating looks like. To know the bullshit you label as your own personal brand of coping." It looks like she might crush one of the sandwiches. "Can I say you're suicidal? Am I supposed to say that word out loud, or do we just dance around it for half a fucking afternoon? Whatever you're going to reply, you're not okay, @@.aa;Mako@@." Finally, she just tosses one of the sandwiches at @@.aa;you@@ with an underhand throw. <span id="catch"><<linkreplace "@@.re;Catch it.@@" t8n>><<remove "#drop">><<remove "#slash">><<set $time to "24:36">><<updatebar>>@@.re2;Catch it.@@ It's almost a fumble, but @@.aa;you@@ manage to hold on. Priya hardly notices since she's checking her watch. It's the same as yours, a bright red countdown: @@.note;24:36.@@ She isn't going to leave @@.aa;you@@ alone. [[Fine.|Sun-Day2-1-10A]]<</linkreplace>></span><span id="slash"> / </span><span id="drop"><<linkreplace "@@.re;Let it fall.@@" t8n>><<remove "#catch">><<remove "#slash">><<set $time to "24:36">><<updatebar>>@@.re2;Let it fall.@@ It bounces off @@.aa;you@@ like the world's saddest hacky sack. Priya makes a frustrated sound and gets up to force it into your hands. As she does so, @@.aa;you@@ can see the countdown standing out red and plain on her watch: @@.note;24:36.@@ She isn't going to leave @@.aa;you@@ alone. [[Fine.|Sun-Day2-1-10A]]<</linkreplace>></span><<set $time to "24:01">>Stuffing away the sandwich, @@.aa;you@@ swipe away the countdown on your watch and pop the graph open. "There, Priya. There she is." The graphs have hills and valleys and @@.bb;her@@ name in neat little letters on one side. "Right there. I'm not suicidal. I survived my brother leaving. I survived my dad leaving. It won't be a fucking challenge to survive my mom leaving when we haven't even talked for three years." "Where's the 'but,' Mako." It would be appropriate to cry now, @@.aa;you@@ allow, though it doesn't really happen. "The only 'but' is that I owe them more than I've given." And then @@.aa;you@@ start walking. You've been standing still for too long. "@@.aa;Mako@@!" Priya has to jog to catch up. "Where are you going? What the hell was that"—she gestures vaguely at your watch—"even supposed to mean." "It's her." [[`"So what?"`|Sun-Day2-1-11A]]<<set $time to "23:11">>"I've always hated your mom." Priya says it so matter-of-factly, it's hard not to nod along. "When was the last time she was over? When was the last time she called? When did she even start using your name? She didn't give a shit, and even if she's up there texting back fucking bar graphs with the Man in the Sun, you won't find the rest of them. You can't subsist on hope and space dust." She takes a breath. @@.aa;You@@ reach some elevators and <<linkreplace "@@.re;hit the call button.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;hit the call button.@@ "Sorry," she says. "It's fine." "I bet you're more diplomatic than this." "It takes practice." "Well, remind me of the rules. How would you put them?" [[Wait for elevator.|Sun-Day2-1-12A]]<</linkreplace>><<set $time to "22:25">>"Friends and family," she prompts and points at herself. When @@.aa;you@@ don't take it up, she continues, "Keep busy." She points at the sandwiches. "Sleep. Right?" "Right." An elevator finally arrives, but Priya tries to block the door. "How about I put it in my own words, then. //Honestly.// You're chasing a ghost, @@.aa;Mako@@. Not the CEO up in the clouds—a ghost of a mother who actually cared." "All right, fine," @@.aa;you@@ say. "If we're being honest, then: fuck off." [[You push past her onto the elevator.|Sun-Day2-2-13A]]<<set $time to "21:56">>She still follows, of course. Though she always had a talent to fill silences, now all she does is mash her sandwich into a fine paste as she clenches her fist in some emotion you're too distracted to try and read. Yours is shoved in the bag with the rod and your mother's unopened letter. You're collecting quite a trove, your mental state somehow grading eating responsibly on the same level of mental exertion as grief and closure. What a fucking mess, huh. But seriously, stop being so analytical about it. If @@.aa;you@@ want to read that letter, there's not time much left. But it's impossible to take out, the elevator ride eating another chunk of your remaining time. @@.aa;You@@ care, no matter what she has or hasn't said, so it's hard to face whatever words justify why @@.aa;you@@ weren't worth staying for. Who knows what name it's addressed to either, and the fear of not knowing should dissuade @@.aa;you@@ from <<linkreplace "@@.re;this@@" t8n>><<replace "#this">> @@.re2;(And what is //this//, hm?)@@<<timed 4s>><<remove "#this">><</timed>><</replace>>@@.re2;this@@<</linkreplace>> more than anything else. It hasn't yet, though.<span id="this"></span> "She's there, Priya," @@.aa;you@@ say into the silence. You're almost at the roof. [[`"Yeah?"`|Sun-Day2-1-14A]]<<set $time to "7:03">><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "roof" loop volume 0 fadeto 0.3>><</if>>"Yeah. I don't know how to make you understand. But she's //there//." You're repeating yourself. Priya doesn't have a reply, anyway. The elevator dings and there—there's the roof. It's a desert landscape of ill-mended skyways and trash vents. You could almost mistake the smoke and ash billowing out from them for what blackens the dome. There's one other person, off in the distance. [[Head toward them.|Sun-Day2-1-15A]]<<set $time to "4:23">><div style="text-align: center">@@.note;4:23.@@</div> Crossing one of the rooftop skyways, the city below glows dimly with the light of barred windows and empty hallways. Otherwise, there's just the thin slice of clean light from the gap in the dome like some sign from the god that fucked up and forgot you five years ago. "Can I just..." Priya starts. "Can I just make you answer one question?" "Not really. You don't have to try and relate what I feel to what you think you have." "Ouch." There's genuine hurt in her voice. "That's not what I was going to say." Apologize? No. You're going to hurt her no matter what. <<linkreplace "@@.re;Better make sure she's used to it.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;Better make sure she's used to it.@@<span id="just"> (((What the fuck kind of justification is that?)))</span><<timed 2s>><<remove "#just">><</timed>><<set $time to "3:59">><<updatebar>> [[`"Would they want you to do this?"`|Sun-Day2-1-16A]]<</linkreplace>><<set $time to "3:21">>"I don't know, they're not here," @@.aa;you@@ say. "Then this is about you then, not about them." "Thank you for the fucking psychoanalysis." "Well, I'm not wrong, am I? Do you think your brother would want you to go through all the bullshit of finding yourself, just to give it up? Neither would your dad. And I said I hated your mom, but would she even want it?" "Well, she left me a letter." Priya looks taken aback. "I thought she hadn't." @@.aa;You@@ shake your head. "What does it say?" @@.aa;You@@ laugh. [[`"I don't know."`|Sun-Day2-1-17A]]<<set $time to "1:59">>"You don't know?" As you cross one last skyway, @@.aa;you@@ reach into your bag to bring out the letter, brushing past the rod. "Still sealed." She seems to focus in on it like a lifeline. "Let's read it, @@.aa;Mako@@." She gestures at the dirty concrete rooftop, as if it's the perfect place for a picnic. Twenty feet away is a man staring hopelessly at the gap in the dome. "Let's read it and—and just see, okay? Please." She must have noticed the time because she's gone from affable-but-frustrated confidence to a demeanor more fitting of a wary child—eyes on the ground and afraid. "Read it. Read it. Then, um. Make your decision?" Fuck, there's tears in her eyes. And @@.aa;you@@ do want to read it. The fear is still there. The apprehension. The—whatever. The other man on the roof has grabbed your attention, a metal rod in his hand. [[`"Who are you looking for?"`|Sun-Day2-1-18A]]<<set $time to "1:21">><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "watchslow" loop volume 0.05 play>><</if>>He looks startled for a moment, blinded eyes drawn away from the gap as the beeping begins. "I'm not looking for anyone." He looks down at the rod, glances at his watch: @@.note;1:21@@. "There's something bigger than us up there. It's time that we flew too close to the sun again." There are equal parts terror and ecstasy on his face, and @@.aa;you@@ can't help but wonder if that's what your mother looked like. If that's what she thought. If maybe she didn't give any more shits about the rest of the family than she did @@.aa;you@@. [[Open the letter.|Sun-Day2-1-19A]]<<set $time to "0:23">>It takes a couple seconds to get a stubby fingernail into the letter, but @@.aa;you@@ manage it eventually, splitting the paper into two wildly unequal edges. In that time, Priya stepped close and put her hands on your shoulders, forehead against yours so you're both looking down at the letter from opposite angles. The sounds of other alarms drift up from the climbs below like sirens in the fog. "What does it say?" Her voice is shaky. <<if $hc lte 2>><<linkreplace "@@.re;\"Dear Shun.\"@@" t8n>><<script>>$('body').addClass('shadow')<</script>><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "watchslow" stop>><<audio "watchfast" loop volume 0.1 play>><</if>><<set $time to "Stay Indoors">><<updatebar>>@@.re2;"Dear Shun,"@@ @@.aa;you@@ begin, like a punch to the fucking gut. The world hasn't gone dark, but @@.aa;you@@ can feel the difference in the air. The light has a cold heat and the shadows of @@.aa;you@@ and Priya look like they're trying to escape, frayed at the edges. @@.aa;You@@ should just stop reading now, but it can be taken in at a glance, really. <<linkreplace "@@.re;So you keep reading it out loud.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;So you keep reading it out loud.@@ @@.note;"It's for the best. Love, Mom."@@ Tears splash on the page, though they're not yours. [[`"I told you I fucking hated her."`|Sun-Day2-1-20A]]<</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><<else>><<linkreplace "@@.re;\"Dear Mako.\"@@" t8n>><<script>>$('body').addClass('shadow')<</script>><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "watchslow" stop>><<audio "watchfast" loop volume 0.05 play>><</if>><<set $time to "Stay Indoors">><<updatebar>>@@.re2;"Dear Mako,"@@ @@.aa;you@@ begin, letting out a breath as the name passes your lips. Why should that mean so much now? The world hasn't gone dark, but @@.aa;you@@ can feel the difference in the air. The light has a cold heat and the shadows of @@.aa;you@@ and Priya look like they're trying to escape, frayed at the edges. <<linkreplace "@@.re;Keep reading.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;Keep reading.@@ @@.note;"I know it's been too long. I don't mean 'too long' as empty words. I mean it as an apology for the mother I've been."@@ Priya makes a disgusted noise. <<linkreplace "@@.re;You continue.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;You continue.@@ @@.note;"I'm sorry I didn't see you in person. But if you're here, you should at least understand. Whatever consolation it is, if it was you who were lost, I would try just as hard to find you. I would pull down the sky, if I could, just to get you back. I owed your brother and father the same. Love, [[`"Mom."`|Sun-Day2-1-20A]]@@<</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</if>><<if $hc lte 2>>Priya has a hand cupped around the back your neck now, forehead pressed so hard against yours it's starting to hurt. The shadows seem to stay grounded more by habit than natural law. @@.aa;You@@ shouldn't have expected any better. @@.aa;You@@ shouldn't have ripped your heart out and left it bleeding on this rooftop for her, but here @@.aa;you@@ fucking are. And the worst part? @@.aa;You@@ still want to look up. A half glance to your right shows an empty space where the other man once was, but Priya grips @@.aa;you@@ even tighter at the movement, all the hours working on the dome showing themselves. It's going to bruise. "@@.aa;Mako@@." It's not the start of a sentence, a question, a statement, a plea. Just your name. "@@.aa;Mako@@." So, what can you say? [[`"I miss them."`|Sun-Day2-1-21A]]<<else>>Priya has a hand cupped around the back your neck now, forehead pressed so hard against yours it's starting to hurt. The shadows seem to stay grounded more by habit than natural law. A half glance to your right shows an empty space where the other man once was, but Priya grips @@.aa;you@@ even tighter at the movement, all the hours working on the dome showing themselves. It's going to bruise. A look is all it'll take. And the letter? Some big—//big//—part had wanted it to be perfunctory. Uncaring. But now it was this; proof that it was always @@.aa;you@@ who'd been the weak link. [[`"I owe her as much."`|Sun-Day2-1-21A]]<</if>><<if $hc lte 2>>"That's okay," Priya says. On your watch, the graph is going crazy. 'Pulse' keeps climbing and climbing so fast its units turn exponential. 'Throughput' gets wider and wider, though there's still no indication of what it means. The little "@@.bb;Hiroko Sato@@ (G)" in the corner is steady as ever. One wrong gust of wind could knock @@.aa;you@@ right over, it feels like. But it is such a nice open space up here—it could be a nice place to help people readjust. Welcome them back to open air rather than a fear of the sun. And your stomach growls. With the hand that isn't on your neck, Priya reaches into her pocket for the crushed sandwich there and exchanges it for the letter. "Here, @@.aa;Mako@@," she says. [[Take it.|Sun-Day2-1-22A]]<<else>>"No you fucking don't." She's not letting go. "Make a will to have your body shot up into space when you're dead, but you don't owe her your life. Not when you're just starting to live it." She lets out a nervous laugh. "Hey, that almost sounded like good advice." "It wasn't bad." Your voice is a monotone. On your watch, the graph is going crazy. 'Pulse' keeps climbing and climbing so fast its units turn exponential. 'Throughput' gets wider and wider, though there's no indication still of what it means. The little "Hiroko Sato (G)" is still a steady reprimand. <<linkreplace "@@.re;Then your stomach growls.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;Then your stomach growls.@@ With the hand that isn't on your neck, Priya reaches into her pocket for the crushed sandwich there and exchanges it for the letter. "Here, @@.aa;Mako@@," she says. [[Take it.|Sun-Day2-1-22A]]<</linkreplace>><</if>><<if $hc lte 2>>It still doesn't seem like tears are your thing, but the world cracks a little around @@.aa;you@@, the fucking insanity of this all showing its face in the cracks. Its face is those two fucking words, "Dear Shun." @@.aa;You@@ should know better than anyone that grief is a tricky thing. It's not linear. It's not discernible. It just hurts. <<linkreplace "@@.re;Now it's silent again.@@" t8n>><<script>>$('#passage-sun-day2-1-22a').addClass('shadow-mid-fade')<</script>><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "watchfast" stop>><<timed 0.5s>><<audio "WatchChorusEnd" volume 0.1 play>><</timed>><</if>><<set $time to "12:50 PM">><<updatebar>>@@.re2;Now it's silent again.@@ The last foggy echoes of an alarm fade and there's only the smell of burned garbage to fill the silence as your shadows stick flat against the concrete once more. Just the two of them. "If you had to give yourself one piece of advice right now, @@.aa;Mako@@," Priya says, "what would it be?" There's a new kind of grief now—a missed opportunity. A broken promise. An abandoned family. [[`"I don't know."`|Sun-Day2-1-23A]]<</linkreplace>><<else>>The sandwich is mush your hands, replacing the letter which Priya effortlessly slipped from your fingers. Formless and scentless and a little bit of the reality that still feels as far from @@.aa;you@@ as the water, 300 floors down. As deep and dark and unknowable. <<linkreplace "@@.re;But now it's silent again.@@" t8n>><<script>>$('body').addClass('shadow-mid-fade')<</script>><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "watchfast" stop>><<timed 0.5s>><<audio "WatchChorusEnd" volume 0.1 play>><</timed>><</if>><<set $time to "12:50 PM">><<updatebar>>@@.re2;But now it's silent again.@@ The last foggy echoes of an alarm fade and there's only the smell of burned garbage to fill the silence as your shadows stick flat against the concrete once more. Just the two of them. It still doesn't seem like tears are your thing, but the world cracks a little around @@.aa;you@@, the fucking insanity of this all showing its face in the cracks. Its face is the fear @@.aa;you@@ can see in Priya's eyes through the bangs draped between you. @@.aa;You@@ should know better than anyone that grief is a tricky thing. It's not linear. It's not discernible. [[It just hurts.|Sun-Day2-1-22AA]]<</linkreplace>><</if>><<set $time to "12:52 PM">>"Just one thing, @@.aa;Mako@@," she presses. "Anything." "Fine," @@.aa;you@@ say. "I'd tell myself..." <span id="pls"><<display "EndHandler">></span><<timed 15s>><<goto "End">><</timed>><<stopallaudio>>I hope you've enjoyed playing San Francisco, 2118! It was written and coded by Leah Case! If you want to get in touch, you can tweet me @leahthecase or email me at leahthecase@gmail.com. To see the full credits, [[go here.|Credits]] You can also <<link "play again">><<run UI.restart()>><</link>> and see how your relationship might change.Thumbtack icon: Font Awesome Free 5.2.0 by @fontawesome - https://fontawesome.com [CC BY 4.0 ( https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0 )] The fan background noise ("Air Extractor Fan, Public Toilets, A.wav") and chomping sound ("Crunching, Wooden Fence, B.wav") were recorded by InspectorJ (www.jshaw.co.uk) of Freesound.org under CC 3.0 ( https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/ ) The watch alarm noise ("watch_alarm.aif") is by tim.kahn of freesound.org under CC 3.0 ( https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/ ) The phone vibrate sound ("phone vibrate") is by Cabeeno Rossley of freesound.org under CC 3.0 ( https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/ ) Thanks to Eric F for the dome base image. The background of the cover art was made with: https://metromapmaker.com/ All maps created there are in public domain. This game was made in Twine 2.2.1 Sugarcube. As usual, shout out to just about anyone who has ever asked or answered a question about twine because some days I feel like I've read every forum thread to figure out some nonsense or another. Button css adapted from: https://codepen.io/tmrDevelops/pen/VeRvKX Sticky note css adapted from: https://code.tutsplus.com/tutorials/create-a-sticky-note-effect-in-5-easy-steps-with-css3-and-html5--net-13934 <<return>><<set $time to "12:51 PM">>"If you had to give yourself one piece of advice right now, Mako," Priya says, "what would it be?" There's a new kind of grief now—a missed opportunity. A broken promise. An abandoned family. [[`"I don't know."`|Sun-Day2-1-23A]]<<set $time to "12:19 PM">>There are three things out in reception (well, there's a lot more, but not many that leave an impression). There's Jen at their small desk. There's the lunch on said desk. There's Priya sitting in one of the chairs against the far wall, pair of wrapped sandwiches in her lap. @@.aa;You@@ smile and hand over the client to Jen. "Hey, Priya," @@.aa;you@@ say, scratch at your temple. "Uh. Lunch in my office?" She nods. [[`"Sure."`|Sun-Day2-1-9B]]<<set $time to "12:21 PM">>The office is small and crowded—a desk, your chair and three others. There's a wallpaper TV on one wall, too. It's smaller than the one in your apartment, though this one isn't burnt. Priya hands over a sandwich, which @@.aa;you@@ unwrap and sniff. "Soy cheese?" "Not everyone is rolling in it like you are." @@.aa;You@@ roll your eyes. Take a bite, pause, and finally venture to ask, "Can we talk?" "Hell yeah," she says. "Of course." Neither of you have taken seats yet, so @@.aa;you@@ gesture for her to take the one behind the desk. Yours. <<linkreplace "@@.re;She raises an eyebrow.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;She raises an eyebrow.@@ While you're talking, your watch faces switch.<<set $time to "19:03">><<updatebar>> Just a countdown now: @@.note;19:03@@. "It's been a //weird// fucking week. And I don't want to talk about her, but can you just like. Try and do my job for me? Or, uh, with me." "I'm really not sure I can do it well," she says. "I wouldn't even know where to start. Any of your coworkers could do better." "Well, I'd like you to. All I need to do, Pri, all I need to do is make it past this Sun-Day. Check the top drawer—there." [[She does.|Sun-Day2-1-10B]]<</linkreplace>><<set $time to "17:22">>"Yeah, that page." It's simple black-and-white, bullet points. Your cheat-sheet for talking to clients, especially anyone new. "Just, um, start from the top." "This section?" She holds it up. "Resources?" @@.aa;You@@ avert your eyes. "Fake some confidence. Pretend you're me." She puts on a grumpy face. "Be //professional//." Finally, she shrugs. "All right, then. Miss..." @@.aa;You@@ laugh. "Sato. Call me @@.aa;Mako@@." "All right then, Miss @@.aa;Mako@@." She glances down at the sheet before fully engaging her mock-therapy persona. "I'm going to give you a few tools. Think of them as simple ideas to consider when you're unsure of what to do. First." She stabs a finger at the page. "Rely on friends and family." <<linkreplace "@@.re;You nod.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;You nod.@@ "Second, be honest with yourself." <<linkreplace "@@.re;Another nod.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;Another nod.@@ "Third, keep yourself busy." <<linkreplace "@@.re;Nod.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;Nod.@@ "And lastly." She smiles. "Sleep! Do you think you can do those things?" @@.aa;You@@ try to think back on the last week and how well you've actually followed those rules throughout it. Hasn't really been a stellar performance. Still, @@.aa;you@@ say, [[`"Of course."`|Sun-Day2-1-11B]]<</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>><<set $time to "14:11">>"Great," Priya says. "Then, uh." Professionalism returns after she references the sheet again and raises a decisive finger. "Now, I'm going to ask you some questions. Okay? First question: how do you feel?" The immediate response: "Fine." Priya makes a disbelieving noise. "You asked //me// to do this." "Sorry." Collect your thoughts. "I want to go back to feeling normal. But you remember what that first rule says? Rely on family." "And friends." "And friends," @@.aa;you@@ allow. "But there's no family now, for me. That's insane. That's crazy. That's." It feels like there should be some emotion in your voice or really just, in anything right now. But the most evocative part of @@.aa;you@@ is the leg bouncing up and down and up and down and up and down as @@.aa;you@@ look a few inches to Priya's right. @@.aa;You@@ are holding on to such a naive hope that somewhere in this conversation you'll be able to really put words to what you're feeling—or aren't—but now you're stalled on that last thought that's been biding its time in the back of your head. @@.aa;You@@ have no family left. "That's shitty," she says. Her facade breaks again. "I'm sorry. I genuinely don't know how to do this." [[`"Just keep me talking."`|Sun-Day2-1-12B]]<<set $time to "10:53">>Your watch shows ten minutes left now. Ignorant of the time, Priya runs a finger down the page to the next bullet point. @@.aa;You@@ know the question before it comes. "Miss @@.aa;Mako@@, have you had suicidal thoughts?" Then she grimaces. "Sorry, I can just ask the next one." @@.aa;You@@ shake your head. But again, there's an instinctive response: No, of course @@.aa;you@@ haven't. But @@.aa;you@@ pretend it's a professional and not Priya so @@.aa;you@@ can say <<linkreplace "@@.re;yes.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;yes, sort of.@@ "I think I have." Priya's lips waver, and though she's still just in the corner your eye, @@.aa;you@@ can tell she's holding back the emotions you're dropping the ball on. <<if $mc is 0>>"I don't even fucking understand it. We"—@@.aa;you@@ make a vague, expansive gesture in the air—"never had anything. Why should I feel like that? Because maybe they're all still alive? Because I'm insane? Because my fucking broken brain was just waiting for an excuse to go crazy again?" "It's trauma, Ma—Miss @@.aa;Mako@@. It's okay to feel like that." Her voice is nowhere as steady as yours. "I didn't //care//. Why the fuck is this doing... //this// to me." @@.aa;You@@ thought you'd be better at straight talk. "She was a shitty mother and a shittier—" @@.aa;You@@ cut yourself off. "Don't let me talk about her anymore." "Is that... something I should push you on?" [[`"No. Choose something else."`|Sun-Day2-1-13B]]<<else>>"We"—@@.aa;you@@ make a vague, expansive gesture in the air—"never had anything. So why should I feel like this? Because maybe they're all still alive? Because I'm insane? Because my fucking broken brain was just waiting for an excuse to go crazy again?" "It's trauma, Ma—Miss @@.aa;Mako@@. It's okay to feel like that." Her voice is nowhere as steady as yours. "But I'd promised, Priya. I'd promised that this wasn't going to be who this was. It was who he was." Now would be a good cue to cry, but @@.aa;you@@ don't. The leg keeps bouncing. "And now it's me too." Something about your clenched fists leaves an implied "FUCK" screamed at the top of your lungs. "You're just you, and you're here." She seems to know it's a weak offering, and @@.aa;you@@ shrug into the silence that follows. "Another question?" [[`"Yeah."`|Sun-Day2-1-13B]]<</if>><</linkreplace>><<set $time to "6:33">>"What do you have to look forward to?" "That's not the next question," @@.aa;you@@ accuse. "You said I could pick anything!" She raises the sheet defensively. "Answer the question." "Fine," @@.aa;you@@ say. "Um." "We can make some plan for Takkin's tomorrow, if that gives you somewhere to start." "Shush, be professional." "Fine, fine." "Ummm." It shouldn't be this hard. <span id="boat"><<linkreplace "@@.re;Tubing.@@" t8n>><<remove "#home">><<remove "#slash">>@@.re2;"Tubing. On the water."@@ "What! No way. It's been //years//." She catches herself. "Sorry. Please continue, miss." "I don't know, I just miss it, you know? Dad'd rent one of those old shitty motorboats with that dumb ass hand steering, you know?" @@.aa;You@@ mimed it, putting your hand into the empty air behind your chair. "Turn the opposite way from where you want to go, so you really just go the wrong way, panic, cut the other way, and bam, you've got a bunch of very upset, very wet friends and family. Whipping around whoever's in the tube you're pulling, of course." "Of course. I have heard that can happen." [[You snort.|Sun-Day2-1-14B]]<</linkreplace>></span><span id="slash"> / </span><span id="home"><<linkreplace "@@.re;Home.@@" t8n>><<remove "#boat">><<remove "#slash">>@@.re2;"Home."@@ "What about home do you have to look forward to?" "I don't know, really. It never changes? It's comfy and it's mine? And after this Sun-Day, I'll be good." "Yeah?" [[`"Yeah."`|Sun-Day2-1-14B]]<</linkreplace>></span><<set $time to "4:01">>The two of you lapse into silence. This isn't really working, is it? It's supposed to be cathartic or relaxing or at least... some sort of release. @@.aa;You@@ just feel more agitated than ever—watches are counting down, your leg won't stop bouncing, and Priya is, obviously, really uncomfortable with the whole thing, but there was //no// way @@.aa;you@@ were going to do this with Justin, so she's the best you've got, however unfair that is to her. <<linkreplace "@@.re;\"Let's watch it.\"@@" t8n>><<set $time to "3:23">><<updatebar>><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "watchslow" loop volume 0.05 play>><</if>>@@.re2;"Let's watch it,"@@ @@.aa;you@@ say finally. "It?" "The sun. This isn't really working." "Do you normally do that with clients?" She sounds skeptical. "Sometimes." "Does it help?" @@.aa;You@@ shrug. "I don't know, sometimes." A few flicks on your watch, swiping away the countdown, brings up the TV controls and turns it on. One or two more and— [[There.|Sun-Day2-1-15B]]<</linkreplace>><<set $time to "1:55">>The video stream of the sun looks atrocious. It's someone's home camera mounted in a window, slightly off-centre with terrible contrast, but it gets the idea across of the quaint lil' orb peaking through the gap in the dome, which has gone pitch black and impermeable in anticipation. It feels a little ridiculous now, just sitting around and watching it. But @@.aa;you@@ were running this gambit and trying to feel better because that was the adult thing to do, dammit, and it'd be real fuckin' hypocritical if @@.aa;you@@ couldn't even follow your own advice. "Should I ask you another question or something from the list?" Priya asks. "Hell if I know." Time's getting low, <<linkreplace "@@.re;less than a minute.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;less than a minute.@@<<set $time to "00:59">><<updatebar>><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "watchslow" stop>><<audio "watchfast" loop volume 0.05 play>><</if>> "You got any ideas?" "Like what?" "I don't know, Pri. Help me innovate." She sighs. "The best I've got is to bully you in front of Justin and see if you'll spill the beans there." "But I won't do that," @@.aa;you@@ say. "But you won't do that," [[she agrees.|Sun-Day2-1-16B]]<</linkreplace>><<set $time to "00:26">>"This wasn't my best idea," @@.aa;you@@ admit. Priya shrugs. "Worth a shot." <<linkreplace "@@.re;Ten seconds.@@" t8n>><<set $time to 10>><<updatebar>><<set $timer to 1>>@@.re2;Ten seconds.@@ <h1 id="countdown" style="text-align: center">@@.note;00:<<if $time lt 10>>0<</if>>$time@@</h1><<updatebar>><<silently>> <<repeat 1s>> <<set $time to $time - 1>> <<if $time gt 0>> <<replace "#countdown">>@@.note;00:<<if $time lt 10>>0<</if>>$time@@<</replace>><<updatebar>> <<else>> <<replace "#countdown">>@@.note;[[00:00|Sun-Day2-1-17B][$timer to 0]]@@<</replace>> <<stop>> <</if>> <</repeat>> <</silently>><</linkreplace>><<set $time to "Stay Indoors">>The sun still looks like a sun. There's a black speck in the sky, maybe. But that could also just be dust on the camera's lens. Who knows. "Helping?" Priya asks after a minute or two watching the grainy stream to the soundtrack of screaming watches. @@.aa;You@@ spread your hands, still staring at the screen. You're here, it's there. Simple, benign. <<linkreplace "@@.re;Nothing has changed.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;Nothing has changed,@@ which is probably the hardest part. But at least maybe you're good with that now? <span id="pls"><<display "EndHandler">></span><<timed 15s>><<goto "End">><</timed>><</linkreplace>><<if visited("Sun-Day2-1-23A")>><<timed 0.9s>><<replace "#pls">><<display "EndHandler">><</replace>><</timed>><<if $hc lte 2>><<print either("[[Sleep.|End]]", "[[I deserved better.|End]]", "[[She wasn't worth it.|End]]", "[[Just cry, idiot.|End]]", "[[Do better.|End]]", "[[Go home.|End]]")>><<else>><<print either("[[Just cry, idiot.|End]]", "[[Sleep.|End]]", "[[Use what you were left.|End]]", "[[Go home.|End]]", "[[Do better.|End]]")>><</if>><<elseif visited("Sun-Day2-1-17B")>><<timed 0.5s>><<replace "#pls">><<display "EndHandler">><</replace>><</timed>><<print either("[[Yes.|End]]", "[[No.|End]]", "[[It's reality, either way.|End]]", "[[Yes.|End]]", "[[No.|End]]", "[[Yes.|End]]", "[[No.|End]]")>><<else>><<timed 0.9s>><<replace "#pls">><<display "EndHandler">><</replace>><</timed>><<print either("[[She's right.|End]]", "[[You're doing better.|End]]", "[[She's gone.|End]]", "[[You're still hurting.|End]]", "[[You're an idiot.|End]]")>><</if>><<set $time to "12:19 PM">>There are three things out in reception (well, there's a lot more, but not many that leave an impression). There's Jen at their small desk. There's the lunch on said desk. There's Priya sitting in one of the chairs against the far wall, pair of wrapped sandwiches in her lap. @@.aa;You@@ smile and hand over the client to Jen. "Hey, Priya. Lunch in my office?" @@.aa;you@@ ask. [[`"Totes."`|Sun-Day2-1-9C]]<<set $time to "12:21 PM">>The office is small and crowded—a desk, your chair and three others. There's a wallpaper TV on one wall, too. It's smaller than the one in your apartment, even if it's not burnt. Priya hands over a sandwich, which @@.aa;you@@ unwrap and sniff. "Soy cheese?" "Not everyone is rolling in it like you are." @@.aa;You@@ roll your eyes. Take a bite, pause, and finally say, "I want to sleep." Another bite. "For like, a //million// years." Priya toasts @@.aa;you@@ with her sandwich. "If only there were so many hours in a day." "Twenty-four million?" "Yeah, duh." "That would be a long day." @@.aa;You@@ sigh loudly, dramatically, which Priya interprets easily. "And you've had a long week?" While you're talking, your watch faces switch. <<linkreplace "@@.re;Just a countdown now.@@" t8n>><<set $time to "22:36">><<updatebar>>@@.re2;Just a countdown now:@@ @@.note;22:36@@. [[`"Yeah."`|Sun-Day2-1-10C]]<</linkreplace>> <h1>San Francisco, 2118</h1> <h2>by Leah Case</h2> [[Play.|Sun-Day]] [[I'm playing again.|Sun-Day][$play to 1]] CW: Suicide. [[Credits]] <<linkreplace "@@.re;Click here@@">><<replace "#sound">>OFF<</replace>><<set $nosound to 1>><<linkreplace "@@.re;Click here@@">><<set $nosound to 0>><<goto "Start">><</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>> to toggle sound on/off: <span id="sound">ON</span>.<<set $time to "1:25 PM">>"I //will// be working tomorrow," Priya says. She scratches her head. "Probably no more days off until the damn thing is done. But we can do lunch or something still? They give me a few minutes for that." @@.aa;You@@ shrug. "They really don't like you having lives, do they? Sun-Day-Done-Day," @@.aa;you@@ parrot back to her, the silly slogan of the dome's construction. Of course, a short lunch may in fact be better than however many lives an extra week, month, year of construction might cost. She lets out a pained sigh—like a woman stretched out on the rack. "Please, I love you, but I will start wearing my earplugs home if I have to hear that around you too." @@.aa;You@@ laugh,<<if $mc gte 2>> but she has to hook your arm under hers to begin the dance back through the crowds, away from Takkin's, inseparable<<else>> and @@.aa;you@@ take her arm to begin the dance back through the crowd, away from Takkin's, inseparable<</if>>. Maybe even [[coping.|Wednesday2-7]]<<set $time to "21:02">>"I wish it was a bit easier to just, you know, get on with life." The sandwich is almost all gone after a few bites—tasty, but not quite enough. "I would give thoughtful, reasonable advice, but I'm dumb," Priya says. "And you probably already know everything anyway." "Yeah, yeah. The sleep and the friends and the keeping busy and all that. Good stuff." @@.aa;You@@ finish the sandwich. "Just gotta make it through this week, then things will be normal," @@.aa;you@@ tell yourself. Priya nods along into the comfortable-enough silence. Contented sighs and raised eyebrows make conversations as she eyes one thing or another in your messy office. A stack of unfiled papers in one corner, a heap of haphazard books in another. On your watches, <<linkreplace "@@.re;the time ticks under fifteen minutes.@@" t8n>><<set $time to "14:56">><<updatebar>>@@.re2;the time ticks under fifteen minutes@@, and she starts cleaning up the books after getting up to throw out her sandwich wrapper. "Keep busy," she mouths at @@.aa;you@@ when one eyebrow-raise questions what she's doing. "Well, I'm going to grab a bit more to eat from Jen," @@.aa;you@@ say. "Want anything?" "Nah," Priya says, and [[you nip out.|Sun-Day2-1-11C]]<</linkreplace>><<set $time to "14:25">>Your client is still out there, naturally, having a quiet conversation with Jen over the small platter of food. "Don't mind me," @@.aa;you@@ say, grabbing a few things off the tray. "You doing all right still?" Your client seems shaky, but she nods. "I'm heading home after it's over." "Of course," @@.aa;you@@ say. "Take all the time you need." It almost seems like she's going to say more, to break out or break down or something, a finger tapping anxiously on the table in time with the counting clock. But then she just shakes her head. "Thanks," she says. @@.aa;You@@ squeeze her on the shoulder and [[return to your office.|Sun-Day2-1-12C]]<<set $time to "11:03">>"Are you good, Mako?" It's the first thing Priya says the second the door closes. "Yeah," @@.aa;you@@ say. "Just hungry." She rolls her eyes. "That's not what I'm asking." "Sorry." The food is just crackers, some hummus. Some greens, some indiscernible blob doubtlessly meant to be umami or some shit like that. It all tastes fine. "No, I'm fine. I really am. But today's on my nerves and I just want to get past the next twenty minutes of my life." "Fair enough." She steals a cracker and a liberal dip of hummus. "I just wanna do my part, even if I'm bad at it." "Don't worry, Pri. If I needed more from you, I'd ask." The noise she makes isn't so much skeptical as riotously disbelieving. "Excuse me if I'm being too forward, but I'm pretty sure that because you have all the answers, you don't think you need to hear them from anyone else." @@.aa;You@@ shrug. "It's not like I'm spiralling or something. We've talked. Now, I just have to wait." "For what?" [[You tap your watch.|Sun-Day2-1-13C]]<<set $time to "7:21">>"Should I have brought champagne?" she asks. @@.aa;You@@ laugh. "Not a bad idea, actually. But I //am// following my own advice. If I make it past this, I'm good." @@.aa;You@@ spread your hands. "Perfect." "Yeah, sure. You keep saying that. Is there something we could do in the meantime, then? Dig into your psyche? Get all Freudian on your childhood?" "I'm going to have to fine you. That's a banned word here." "What?" "Freudian." She laughs loudly. "Sorry." "I forgive you." There's a lull. "I //really// should've brought some bottles to pop, now that you mention it." "Uh, how about if we just like..." She seems to be grasping for something but ends up shaking her head. "Uh. Make a wish?" [[`"A wish?"`|Sun-Day2-1-14C]]<<set $time to "4:51">><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "watchslow" loop volume 0.05 play>><</if>>"Sun-Days are people dying, Pri," @@.aa;you@@ say, punctuated by beginning of your watches' angry warnings. "Hardly shooting stars." "I don't know, then. Wish they wouldn't. I'm not good at this." She actually seems to be getting frustrated with herself. And, oh. You've been such a drag on her this past week, haven't @@.aa;you@@? Missed work shifts, hurried lunches, early mornings because—well. It would be unfair to say she didn't trust @@.aa;you@@. Rather... That she was worried. That she heard @@.aa;you@@ talk far too often about the appointments that never showed up and the longing with which @@.aa;you@@ sometimes looked up. It wasn't a kind of longing, though. More like looking for constellations, the sun spots that were your family. A little bit of wondering now if @@.bb;Mom@@ found something worth having more than @@.aa;you@@. But @@.aa;you@@ weren't //looking// for her. She and her cults and madness and abject fucking failure to spare a last meaningful thought. What was there to miss? "Let's just get through the next few minutes, okay?" [[The seconds tick down.|Sun-Day2-1-15C]]<<set $time to "3:11">>How many times have @@.aa;you@@ promised you'd move on already today? Three? Four times? How many times in the last week, too? Her absence was like ice forming on your shoulders—something @@.aa;you@@ had to shake off intermittently, lest @@.aa;you@@ catch cold. You've done well so far. The room is warm. The time's still counting down, and Priya is quiet, grabbing a few sandwich crumbs from where they've fallen on her shirt and popping them into her mouth. The snacks you'd grabbed are all eaten now, too, so it's just a matter of anticipating of one final shake. "One minute," @@.aa;you@@ say unnecessarily. <<linkreplace "@@.re;Priya nods.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;Priya nods.@@<<set $time to "1:00">><<updatebar>><<if $nosound is 0>><<audio "watchslow" stop>><<audio "watchfast" loop volume 0.05 play>><</if>> It's so stupid. So arbitrary. Just get over it now. Now. <<linkreplace "@@.re;//Now//.@@" t8n>>@@.re2;//Now//.@@<<set $time to "0:30">><<updatebar>> Of course, it isn't that easy. Which you've probably told clients a hundred times. //Yes, you didn't know him well, but it's still okay for you to feel the loss.// //But I must just want attention. I feel like a fucking idiot.// //Sometimes we miss things because—// The overplayed thought cuts itself short, the countdown becoming all that @@.aa;you@@ are. [[Ten seconds.|Sun-Day2-1-16C]]<</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>> <h1 style="text-align: center"><<set $time to "0:10">><span id="10" class="note">00:10</span><<timed 1s t8n>><<remove "#10">><span id="9">@@.note;00:09@@</span><<set $time to "00:09">><<updatebar>><<next 1s>><<remove "#9">><span id="8">@@.note;00:08@@</span><<set $time to "00:08">><<updatebar>><<next 1s>><<remove "#8">><span id="7">@@.note;00:07@@</span><<set $time to "00:07">><<updatebar>><<next 1s>><<remove "#7">><span id="6">@@.note;00:06@@</span><<set $time to "00:06">><<updatebar>><<next 1s>><<remove "#6">><span id="5">@@.note;00:05@@</span><<set $time to "00:05">><<updatebar>><<next 1s>><<remove "#5">><span id="4">@@.note;00:04@@</span><<set $time to "00:04">><<updatebar>><<next 1s>><<remove "#4">><span id="3">@@.note;00:03@@</span><<set $time to "00:03">><<updatebar>><<next 1s>><<remove "#3">><span id="2">@@.note;00:02@@</span><<set $time to "00:02">><<updatebar>><<next 1s>><<remove "#2">><span id="1">@@.note;00:01@@</span><<set $time to "00:01">><<updatebar>><<next 1s>><<remove "#1">><span id="0">@@.note;[[00:00|Sun-Day2-1-17C]]@@</span><<set $time to "00:00">><<updatebar>><</timed>></h1><<set $time to "Stay Indoors">>Outside, what's built of the dome is probably black. Someone has probably killed themselves, knowingly or not. Couldn't say for certain, though, because your office has no windows and it's just the uninterrupted beeping between @@.aa;you@@ and Priya with a hint of exasperation as @@.aa;you@@ wait for the revelation to reveal itself. Enlightenment, you know. Nirvana, as @@.aa;you@@ let go of all earthly ties and find true happiness. "Well, there we go," Priya says. "Have some wisdom for me?" <<linkreplace "@@.re;\"Uh. If you give me a second.\"@@" t8n>>@@.re2;"Uh. If you give me a second."@@ "Sure. Whenever you're ready." "Right." It's only a few more seconds before she says, "You're here." "And?" "What else is more important?" It's fake deep and it's stupid and it's an indisputable truism, but it makes @@.aa;you@@ smile. Makes @@.aa;you@@ think, between the screaming of the watches. <span id="pls"><<display "EndHandler">></span><<timed 22s>><<goto "End">><</timed>><</linkreplace>><div id="passage-header"><span id="header"><<display "Header">></span><<timed 0.01s>><<replace "#header">><<display "Header">><</replace>><</timed>></div>It misses the thinned hair that went from deep-black sprinkled with grey to a shock of white snow.<<timed 3s t8n>> It misses the lines of grief and the lines of anger.<<next 3s>> It misses whatever @@.bb;you@@ felt in that last moment.<<next 3s>> Your remaining family is contacted, a funeral is planned and almost forgotten—the dog runs away. [[If only she knew why you did it.|Tuesday]]<</timed>><div id="title-bar"><<print $day>></div><div class="flash" id="title-note"><<if $timer is 1>>00:<<if $time lt 10>>0<</if>><</if>><<print $time>></div><<set $time to "12:39 PM">>"Dad's zagging me to line up my next job," she says. "But really, what's there to find? I'm not gonna bend over backwards to be some stupid-ass gondola person just because it might pay fine." She momentarily lets go of your hand to mime pushing a boat with a plastic fork before resting it on yours again. "You know." A sly wink. "Hire me, I'll be your bodyguard." @@.aa;You@@ laugh—almost too loud—and she feigns hurt, clutching a hand over her heart. "I have to pay you to go away," @@.aa;you@@ say, then add, "I mean, if you really want..." She starts shaking her head immediately. "It's a joke, a joke. Nah. I've got really to be working." "Sure?" "Yeah, 'course. What do you even do when you've got that much money?" Your mind is quick to fill in the blanks. [[You miss your son's funeral.|Wednesday1-7][$funeral to 1]] / [[You give charity to estranged children.|Wednesday1-7][$hc +=1]]<<widget "updatetimebar">><<silently>> <<replace "#note-header-time">>[img[art/location_clean.png]] [img[art/wifi_icon_clean.png]] [img[art/low_battery_clean.png]] $time<</replace>> <</silently>><</widget>><li><a><h2>Call @@.high;Mako@@?</h2> <div id="date">Created Sep 9, 2115</div></a></li><li><a><h2>Shun=@@.high;Mako@@</h2> <div id="date">Created Jan 2, 2113</div></a></li><li><a><h2>@@.high;Shun@@'s Birthday!</h2><p>Next week!!</p><p>Don't forget!!!</p> <div id="date">Created Nov 2, 2003</div></a></li><li><a><h2>@@.high;Shun@@ gift ideas</h2><p>New phone</p><p>Rice cooker</p><p>?</p> <div id="date">Created Mar 2, 2112</div></a></li><li><a><h2>Pick @@.high;Shun@@ up after class</h2><p>3:30</p><p>100th/190</p> <div id="date">Created Sep 9, 2110</div></a></li> <li><a><h2>@@.high;Shun@@=Mako</h2> <div id="date">Created Jan 2, 2113</div></a></li><li><a><h2>@@.high;Shun@@/Priya playdate</h2><p>friday 4:30</p><p>120th/195</p> <div id="date">Created May 16, 2108</div></a></li> <li><a><h2><<linkreplace "@@.re;Shun note@@">><<script>>$('html, body').animate({ scrollTop: 0 }, 'slow');<</script>><<set $time to "5:05 PM">><<updatebar>><<updatetimebar>><<if $hc is 0>><<replace "#notes">><<display "LowHCNotes3">><</replace>><<replace "#narration">>No punctuation. <<timed 5s t8n>>Just the single unornamented word and some tabbed-but-forgotten lines.<<next 4s>> Arrogant to think you'd get anything more. [[You've seen enough.|Sun-Day2]]<</timed>><</replace>><<else>><<replace "#notes">><<display "LowHCNotes4">><</replace>><<replace "#narration">><<timed 4s t8n>>What had @@.aa;you@@ expected?<<next 6s>> For what @@.aa;you@@ gave, it made sense that this was what @@.aa;you@@ got. <<next 4s>>You'll try and feel bad about that another day, maybe. But your curiosity is sated. The last burning question of your life answered with a dead name a few dozen characters of plain text. Shitty. [[May as well move on, you suppose.|Sun-Day2]]<</timed>><</replace>><</if>><<replace "#scroll">><</replace>><<script>>$('a').attr('id', 'largenote')<</script>><</linkreplace>></h2><p>Dear @@.high;Shun@@</p> <div id="date">Created 8 days ago</div></a></li><li><a><div id="pin">[img[art/pin.png]]</div><h2>Finish Casgard orders</h2><p>Thursday!</p><p>at latest</p> <div id="date">Created 9 days ago</div></a></li><li><a><div id="pin">[img[art/pin.png]]</div><h2>Follow up inquiry</h2><p>you know</p> <div id="date">Created June 5, 2118</div></a></li><li><a><div id="pin">[img[art/pin.png]]</div><h2>Get back to Sanchez</h2><p>Also, Bea?</p> <div id="date">Created June 3, 2118</div></a></li> <li><a><div id="pin">[img[art/pin.png]]</div><h2>Go see</h2> <div id="date">Created June 3, 2118</div></a></li> <li><a><div id="pin">[img[art/pin.png]]</div><h2>After the dome</h2><p>space project?</p><p>$$$$ :/</p> <div id="date">Edited June 1, 2118</div></a></li> <li><a><div id="pin">[img[art/pin.png]]</div><h2>To do:</h2><p>walk dog</p><p>eat</p><p>finish things</p> <div id="date">Edited May 31, 2118</div></a></li><li><a><h2>Christmas cards?</h2><p>Lauren</p><p>Sanchez</p><p>@@.high;Mako@@?</p> <div id="date">Created Dec 25, 2115</div></a></li><li><a><h2>Shun=@@.high;Mako@@</h2><p>Shun=@@.high;Mako@@</p><p>Shun-=@@.high;Mako@@</p><p>Shun=@@.high;Mako@@</p><p>Shun=Mak</p><p>Shun=@@.high;Mako@@</p> <div id="date">Created Jan 2, 2113</div></a></li> <li><a><h2>@@.high;Mako@@ gift ideas</h2><p>New phone</p><p>Rice cooker</p><p>?</p> <div id="date">Created Mar 29, 2114</div></a></li><li><a><h2>Do tax stuff</h2><p></p><p>get @@.high;Mako@@'s returns</p> <div id="date">Created Feb 20, 2114</div></a></li> <li><a><h2>@@.high;Mako@@'s birthday</h2><p>4/10/90</p> <div id="date">Edited Jan 2, 2113</div></a></li> <li><a><h2><<linkreplace "@@.re;Mako Note@@">><<script>>$('html, body').animate({ scrollTop: 0 }, 'slow');<</script>><<set $time to "5:05 PM">><<updatebar>><<updatetimebar>><<replace "#notes">><<display "HighHCNotes2">><</replace>><<replace "#narration">><<timed 4s t8n>>@@.aa;You@@ laugh.<<next 6s>> //I would try just as hard for you.//<<next 4s>> You'd never taken her for a liar, but she'd written it. She'd made the decision that trying to speak to the dead was a more admirable goal—an //easier// goal—than finding what she already had. Ha. Hahahahahaha. To think you'd believed she'd have last words anymore sincere than the last text @@.aa;you@@ received from her. It had said, [[`"See you soon."`|Sun-Day2]]<</timed>><</replace>><<script>>$('a').attr('id', 'largenote')<</script>><</linkreplace>></h2><p>Dear Mako</p> <p>I know it's been too long.</p> <div id="date">Created 8 days ago</div></a></li><li><a><h2>@@.high;Mako@@ Note</h2><<set $note to 3>> Dear @@.high;Mako@@ I know it's been too long. I don't mean 'too long' as empty words. I mean them as an apology for the mother I've been. I went to your place to say it in person, but you weren't home. Whatever consolation it is, I would try just as hard for you. I would pull down the sky, just to get you back. I owed your father and brother the same. Love, Mom.</a></li><li><a><h2>@@.high;Shun@@ note</h2><<set $note to 1>> Dear @@.high;Shun@@ goodbye <div id="date">Created 8 days ago</div></a></li><div id="note-header"><div id="note-header-notif">[img[art/email_icon_clean.png]] [img[art/email_icon_clean.png]] [img[art/email_icon_clean.png]] [img[art/email_icon_clean.png]] [img[art/email_icon_clean.png]] [img[art/email_icon_clean.png]] [img[art/email_icon_clean.png]] [img[art/email_icon_clean.png]] [img[art/elip_clean.png]]</div><div id="note-header-time"> [img[art/location_clean.png]] [img[art/wifi_icon_clean.png]] [img[art/low_battery_clean.png]] $time</div></div><li><a><h2>@@.high;Shun@@ note</h2><<set $note to 2>> Dear @@.high;Shun@@, I'm sorry. But you have to miss your father, and your brother. I know I do, every single day. I'm going to find them. <div id="date">Created 8 days ago</div></a></li><<set $time to "5:00 PM">><div class="phonenote"><<display "PhoneHead">><div id="scroll">[img[art/scroll_bar_tall.png]]</div> <ul id="notes"><<display "NotesStart">></ul><div id="search-bar-tray"><div id="search-bar"><<linkreplace "@@.re;Search for your name.@@">><<script>>$('html, body').animate({ scrollTop: 0 }, 'slow');<</script>><<if $hc lt 3>><<replace "#scroll">><</replace>><<replace "#notes">><<display "LowHCNotes1">><</replace>><<replace "#narration">>That's it? But maybe @@.aa;you@@ shouldn't be surprised after all. She could have frequently deleted old notes, or just didn't make many about @@.aa;you@@. But, really, @@.aa;you@@ know there's a more likely situation, if you're willing to run another search.<</replace>><<linkreplace "@@.re;Search the other name?@@">><<script>>$('html, body').animate({ scrollTop: 0 }, 'slow');<</script>><<replace "#scroll">>[img[art/scroll_bar_tall.png]]<</replace>><<remove "#noname">><<set $time to "5:03 PM">><<updatebar>><<updatetimebar>>Shun<<replace "#notes">><<display "LowHCNotes2">><</replace>><<replace "#narration">>And, oh. Look at all the notes that show up now! Surprise surprise. She needed to delete some of these. They aged worse than her. But then your heart jumps—there. Open up that last one: //Created 8 days ago//.<</replace>><</linkreplace>><span id="noname"> | [[No. Fuck this.|Sun-Day2][$read to 0]]</span><<else>><<set $time to "5:03 PM">><<updatebar>><<updatetimebar>>Mako<<replace "#notes">><<display "HighHCNotes1">><</replace>><<replace "#narration">>@@.aa;You@@ release a breath as notes start responding to your query. Your presence in some is incidental. In others, it's more central. The one that says "Shun=@@.aa;Mako@@" looks like it was copy and pasted a hundred times, except for those typos. The note that says "Call @@.aa;Mako@@?" is dated for a day you'd never picked up. Those numbers are burned in your mind, an unread voicemail holding them like a cipher for the past two years. But look—//there//. There's the note your looking for. (Maybe) ((Hopefully?))<</replace>><</if>><</linkreplace>></div></div></div><div id="narration">The most promising spot in the phone is an app that looks like a messy cork board, dozens of little sticky notes in no discernible order. It seems well-used, if nothing else. The pinned notes go on forever, many not just from the last few months, but even the last few weeks. If she had anything else to say to @@.aa;you@@, hopefully she left it here. Then again, maybe what's on here isn't really for your eyes. There hadn't exactly been flashing neon signs pointing @@.aa;you@@ in this direction. But then again, she'd been the one not to put a lock on her phone. So may as well take a look.</div> <div style="text-align: center; font-size: 3em">Look up.</div><<timed 2s>><<goto "Sun-Day2-2-8">><</timed>>