Oh, gosh. All the 'ze', 'hir' nonbinary designations? Weird but fun.
Lovely Martian setting, evil gov-corps doing horrible stuff and so on... Goshy-gosh! Scary and powerful stuff.
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Living with injustice is one of the hardest things in the world. (c)
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This need to prove that we are not the worst of ourselves can sometimes make us better people. (c)
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“Just because something is possible, it doesn’t make it plausible... What is the most plausible explanation here?” (c)
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This isn’t what happened to my father. I am in control and I know what is real. “I know what is real,” I whisper to myself. “This piece of paper is real.” The fear subsides. (c)
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All these perfect, balanced people here must make life as a shrink so dull. (c)
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How many times have I smiled at someone while hating them? (c)
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“Oh JeeMuh, we’re not seriously going to have an argument about whether scientific discovery only has merit if it increases corporate profits, are we? Because believe me, I’ve spent my entire career arguing with people about different forms of merit and I thought I’d left all that bullshit behind on Earth.” (c)
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Averages aren’t good enough when it comes to critical data. (c)
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... being on another planet, literally, is not conducive to deep and difficult conversations. (c)
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IF I AM going to accept that the note is real (and I have to; otherwise, I have just spent several hours hallucinating a detailed lab analysis), then it looks like I must also accept that I painted it myself. I needed more data, now I have it, and as a good scientist I have to accept the conclusion it points me toward. (c)
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As some put me on some unfathomable pedestal of womanhood, others downgraded me as just another baby factory, with a head addled by hormones. What a waste of a brilliant mind. I wanted to tear a new one in both kinds of people. (c)
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... I understand how people want things to be nice. They just want a sense of connection. Validation. Some moment of confirmation from another human being that what they feel is normal. Having never had that, I know how much it is needed. (c)
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“But why haven’t the drones recorded it?”
“Because of your friend and mine: the cost-benefit analysis, (c)
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If there’s one thing I know, it’s that hiding behind a mask all the time is really fucking tiring. (c)
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The pattern is more important than the detail. (c)
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Trust me to end up rediscovering my libido on Mars. (с)
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Questions about how I felt about my bear having to stay in the box when other children took theirs everywhere. Questions about whether I loved my bear, whether it made me sad to put him away afterward, whether I was angry at my parents for their attitudes toward it. It was so tedious. The first few times I’d point out that it had nothing to do with the problems I’d been having. Then I learned that there was no point telling a therapist that something is irrelevant. It’s all relevant to those bastards; every single sigh, every gesture, every insistence that they were barking up the wrong tree. I soon learned to stop resisting the direction they wanted to take. Better that than get frustrated with the fact that there was no way for them to ever be wrong. I much preferred comments about how guarded I was. (c)
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“What are you doing, Daddy?” How I hate the sound of my reedy childhood voice now.
“I’m protecting us,” he said.
“What from?”
“Monsters.” (c)
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Russian soul music from the ’50s (c) Ouch. Is there even such a thing?
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It’s unsettling to suddenly find yourself wondering if an AI is better at brinkmanship than you are. (c)
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“Ze hates being left out of anything,”...
“Yeah, especially finding dead bodies or monsters or a welcoming committee with guns,” (c)
Q:
I skim through transcriptions of private messages sent between top figures in the European government, discussing the problems my parents were causing. How they were single-handedly responsible for the groundswell movement that forced the European gov-corp to enshrine more human rights in their citizen-employee contracts. Things like the right to appeal the results of any legal dispute that relies upon a human judge. The right to change jobs. The right to equal maternity and paternity leave. All of these ideas, lost during the tumultuous ’20s and ’30s in the seismic dying throes of democracy, preserved and then reintroduced into online communities via a clever network of bots that masqueraded as people. My mother wrote the code that powered them and my father wrote the comments and posts and micro-updates that they scattered online. My parents convinced entire online populations that there were thousands of people out there who thought these rights were important and worth fighting for. The power was in the illusion of the consistent minority, the type of group that has so successfully shifted the attitudes of society in the past. I have a flash memory of my father talking to me about it when I was too young to understand. “It’s the consistency that’s important. It helps to form a pattern and that pattern is more important than the detail when it comes to changing people’s minds.” (c)
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Mars, in all its barren, rust-colored glory, will soon be a memory, merely the place I was when everything ended, and everything began. And for the first time, I have no doubts about where I am going or even about the hope that fills me. I will be with people I love, and that is all that matters. (c)