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Chapter 15

I fear the avatars with missing pages. What must it be like to lose a part of your core self but not know it is missing? I cannot begin to imagine the level of mental anguish these avatars endure every day.

Senator,

There is a meeting scheduled today to assess the validity of research on the connection between avatars and their Lifebooks. This topic is under your purview. You will approve it if you do not wish this request to go in a similar direction as the others.

~G

Kana tossed the wireless a little too forcefully onto the desk, but she couldn't bring herself to care at the moment. She got to pace beside the window. Like the rest of the capitol building, her walls were the standard off white set against the dark gray of the floor. She could have requested a change in color scheme when she took office, but she hadn't because... She... Huh. There was a reason, a good one, but she couldn't remember. She paced past the gray couch and the two white reading chairs without really seeing them. All she could see were the words on the wireless screen. Was she muttering to herself? She clamped her mouth tight and made two more circuits of the room. When she started ringing her hands together, she stopped and forced herself to stand straight by the window.

The city opened up below her, full of muted colors, sharp lines, and smooth duristone walls. All the skyscrapers in the city center were at least twenty stories tall, some topped out at fifty. The city was a part of her. These streets were home, however troubled it might be. She became a senator, against her parents' wishes, to make a difference.

The last time she'd called home her parents had... had... When had she called home last? A week ago? Two? Why couldn't she remember what they said? They usually came and ate lunch with her every few weeks at... at... Dusts, those memories couldn't be gone, could they? They wouldn't take memories of her parents. Would they? Yes, he would.

Her view of the city took on a whole new meaning as she searched it for landmarks she knew; there weren't as many as there should be. Everything was familiar and strange. Her memories were being stolen, snatched out of her soul without leaving even their scent behind. And there was nothing she could do about it. Well, almost nothing. She remembered the message again.

A rumbling from her desk startled her. She turned to look at the message: Conduct meeting in ten minutes. Chamber five. Sighing, she pocketed the wireless and walked calmly from her office. Just outside her door, she studied the sculpture opposite her office. It was made of forged metal, pounded and scored to look like a Lifebook, open to the middle pages for all of Pocalypse to see. She read the engraving for the thousandth time, slowly and hungrily: We each control our own story. No matter who reads our books, no matter who thinks to command the common avatar, we choose what directives we listen to. We each choose our own story, and it is those stories that define us all. How much did those words mean to her anymore? That was the question she had to answer, and soon.

Kana turned away from the art and strode quickly to the maglift. She was on the nineteenth floor, but the meeting was on the first floor. The lifts were fast, but her dread grew with each passing floor. By the time the doors slid open, she was wringing her hands again. She forced her arms to hang straight at her sides and stepped out into the crowd of avatars.

Chamber Five was close to the main maglift, so she walked at a brisk pace, not looking anyone directly in the eyes. Despite that, many of the avatars she passed waved and said hello. Kana waved back with a smile, but each unknown face made her question whether she had never known that avatar, or merely forgotten them recently. She would much prefer the first option.

When she entered the chamber, Senators Caine and Undirth were already in their respective seats. She hurried to take her place on Caine's left. Both senators wore gloves, just as Kana did, though hers had been a recently acquired habit. Everyone knew what the gloves signified, but nobody knew what faction controlled whom, so everyone just kept acting like life was normal. The Chamber of Law couldn't remove any of the velo affiliated senators for fear of looking suspicious, since they had their own pawns in the game, and the veloes controlled the majority vote, so they didn't care.