Even though there’s now a calculator in my head, I find it really hard to think in their digits, so I only used it for the large multiplications and divisions, and did the workings in the back of my diary. Sa Lents said he found the way I write very interesting – kind of like cave-paintings to him, I bet.
Anyway, one Earth year is worth about three Tare years. Sa Lents is over a hundred Tare years old. Their living day is about twenty-six Earth hours long, though neatly divided into ten hours of a hundred minutes each. What they consider a second is not quite the same as an Earth second, and there’s a hundred of those in each minute. For every five of these days the planet has one solar day (which explains why it stayed dark outside so long). I don’t in the least understand how a planet can have a longer day but a shorter year than Earth’s, yet similar gravity.
The mind’s eye
Den = second
Joden = minute
Kasse = hour
Kaorone = living day
Kao = day (single day/night cycle)
So my name is a bit like a reference to time here. That’s better than the Earth meaning by far. Cassandra means she who entangles men, which has got to be the suckiest name meaning ever, and that’s not even getting into the whole cursed by Apollo and then everyone thinks you’re mad and you know everything’s going to end up a mess and can’t do anything about it part. I’ve never understood why Mum picked it, since she’s usually more sensible about names. I can think of ten million names I’d rather have than one which stands for tragic futility and madness.
That’s – it sounds circular saying it, but it drives me nuts, thinking that I’m really nuts. I mean, walking through cracks in the world to different planets and having computers installed in your head? The giggling in a straightjacket possibility seems so much more likely.
And I’m not. I’d know, somewhere deep down, I’d know if this was all imagination. Delusion. I’d never have made up being so sick, for a start, or those blisters. I’m not imagining any of this. I’m not.
…
Must sleep more and practice interface less. Then I wouldn’t get so worked up over stupidities.
Tuesday, December 25
From here to you
Merry Christmas Mum. Merry Christmas Dad. Merry Christmas Jules. If there was some way I could make you feel better right now, I would.
Wednesday, December 26
Moving on
I’ve been released from the Institute! I’m on parole with Sa Lents, after a final medical exam where they decided they don’t need to keep me under close observation any longer.
One thing the doctor told me just before she sent me off really brought home what kind of society I’ve found myself in. I currently have the barest access rights to the systems around me, but the government here has access rights to me. My interface isn’t just one way, and I’m not in control of it. It’s a school, entertainment, a health monitor and an alarm. It will send a distress signal if I’m sick or hurt, and it can stimulate my brain in a way which regulates hormones. I’ve automatically been regulated for birth control. Rules about having babies are really strict here, and you have to be given permission to conceive, for each and every baby you want. You have to pass some kind of parental worthiness test and everything.
Having someone else put me on birth control without my permission is just…I feel really strange about it, especially considering the uncomfortable conversation I had with Mum about babies at the beginning of the year, when I went out with Sean J. Sean and I have been friends a few years, and we were trying to see if we could be more, but it was totally a bad idea. We were careful enough, the couple of times we did it before the sheer awkwardness brought us to our senses, but if I’d wanted a baby, I could have walked down that path. I don’t get that choice here. I’d have to fill out a form first, and hope someone stamped it APPROVED.
Sa Lents is taking me to his family’s home on a place called Unara, which involves a long journey by plane (or tanz, as these spaceshippy flying machines are called – they don’t look at all like our planes). It’ll take a few hours, but my interface practice comes with me everywhere. I’ve a whole world of work installed in my head, and it’s powered by my own body, so won’t run low on batteries – unless I do.
I’m growing increasingly confident using the interface, now that I properly know a few basic words. The concepts aren’t very different from email or web browsers, just without a mouse or keyboard. I haven’t qualified for some of it yet, but have just stopped to write after sitting through the introductory lessons for how to record everything I see and hear, and keep a personal library. Every person on this planet is a CCTV system. I’m definitely going to have to remember that when I talk to anyone, or am in sight or earshot of anyone. I keep telling myself it’s not that different to everyone having a mobile phone and access to You Tube, but it’s hard not to be a little creeped out.
Talking to people remains a huge challenge. I’m more or less okay listening, at least to get the general gist, but it’s going to be a mid-sized forever before I can talk anything like normally. I don’t know any of the words. It’s not like a proper dictionary. I can’t look up cat and find nyar. Instead, I think cat and my head produces an oozy possibility of words and, increasingly, a lot of handy labelled pictures. But it can be hard to tell if it’s meant to be a picture of an animal or a predator or hunter or kitten – and abstract concepts are far more difficult. My head fills with pictures and feelings when people talk and an odd kind of certainty of knowing what they said without understanding how I know. The idea comes without necessarily an exact translation. I’m trying to figure out how to annotate my head with words I’m certain of.
Anyway, I’m pretty excited just to get out of that military facility.
Thursday, December 27
Overload
Until today, I’d hardly seen any people. Those couple of blacksuits back on Muina, and a few greensuits and greysuits and the guy who brought my meals. The only people who have spoken to me were Sa Lents and Ista Tremmar. At the KOTIS facility all I really saw were three rooms and a few corridors. And, biggest change of all, my interface was at the most minimal level possible.
During the flight – which was a military flight and not open to the public – Sa Lents taught me the different access options of my interface. This is a bit like choosing to have subtitles when watching a DVD, but so much more. I had to laugh when I turned on the Public information: people option, and you could see people’s names floating above their heads. World of Warcraft without the shoulder pads. You can’t hide your name, apparently, any more than you can absolutely shut the government out of your head.
There are tons of different display options or filters. Open is full of things everyone can see, and is broken down into different levels – emergency and directional and décor and advertisement and entertainment and so on. Then there’s closed or tight, which is things only you or a particular group can see. Having made sure I knew how to filter all these display levels on and off, Sa Lents had me turn all but directional and décor off before we reached Unara. This was a good move.