[video]

[candothat]

[The scene: a roof. Which roof is unclear, but, judging from the book and notebooks visible in the dim glow of the network device's screen, Chekov was probably stargazing. Of course. What else would a sensible person be doing on a roof in the middle of the night?]

I have asked this question to individuals, but I am curious: what, generally, is the opinion on becoming attached to others here? From what I have heard and read, most seem to think that suffering the loss of someone they have become close to when they leave the City is a small price to pay for companionship. Then there are a few--or maybe there are not so few as I think--who would prefer to stay unattached to avoid being hurt. Is this assessment correct?

And those who, in theory, believe that it is wisest not to grow close to people... are they successful, or do they form attachments in spite of what they believe to be best for themselves?

[His tone is one of genuine curiosity. This is not a rhetorical question.]

I am of two minds on the subject, but I dislike the thought of being alone for however long I may stay here enough to make remaining unattached distasteful. And, when I am not theorizing and simply talking to others, it is impossible not to form friendships. Even though friends will leave and forget all experiences in the City, I keep making them, and it seems very foolish and maybe reckless when I think about it--making friends, I mean--but I feel it is better to accept loss.

It is like home, in some ways. I have always been moving and now, at home, I am in a position where having friends die is very possible and has happened. Is it different, losing a friend to death and having a friend leave the City? Logically, death should be more difficult to accept, I think, but I am not finding that so.

[A contemplative pause.]

The curse where we were turned into dogs--there was a little girl who was good enough to feed me, and I would like to thank her now that I am a person again. I think she was ten, maybe, and very pale, with light hair.

As to this last weekend's curse, no, Lucy and I are not married, although she is very kind and I mean no insult to her when I say that I am pleased to be unmarried again. Sincere apologies to anyone who was anticipating the reception.


[Filtered to the Deities // Unhackable]

Hello. When you have a moment, I would like to discuss another exchange with you, please.

Comments

[rianofski]

I never said nor implied that I haven't had the opportunity.

[A pause.]

You're Russian, are you not?

[candothat]

Ah.

[Well. You've got him there.]

I am, sir, yes.

[rianofski]

I was born in Russia. I grew up there. Perhaps you're from a different time, but it was hardly a pleasant place. I'm surprised you seem so optimistic, if Russia is your homeland.

[candothat]

I can be fatalistic when necessary, as is my patriotic duty.

When were you born, sir? I imagine it was not near the year 2241.

[rianofski]

I was born in 1900. I can imagine things have changed by 2241, but I have no particular faith in Russia to have become a decent nation, especially not when enough people could have supported socialism to actually implement it.

[A pause.]

Though of course, that's all far before your time.

[candothat]

That was an exceptionally dark time in Russia's history.

[And Chekov will be avoiding politics, as a sort of socialism prevails at home and works quite well. Not that socialism has an excellent track record...]

I do know something of my country's history, sir.

[rianofski]

I hadn't meant to imply that you didn't. Only to suggest that perhaps things have changed enough in Russia for that to all be a distant and unpleasant memory.

[Not that he was particularly hopeful about it.]

Where in Russia are you from?

[Whether he likes Russia or not, he's always intrigued by fellow Russians.]

[candothat]

Russia has its problems, as many places do, but they are minor compared to the past. Mostly there is a division between those who accept the cultural homogenization that the Federation has brought about and those who wish to hold on to their culture.

[Everything is better in the future. Even Russia.]

Saint Petersburg--the Vyborgsky District. I have spent time as a student in Moscow, also. And you?

[rianofski]

The Federation?

[He sounds vaguely suspicious. Anything named the Federation probably has far too much power.]

A village near Minsk. I suppose all of that is now part of the Belorussian Soviet Socialist Republic.

[He sneers the words.]

[candothat]

The United Federation of Planets. It is an interplanetary federal republic that believes in universal equality, liberty, justice, peace, and cooperation.

[Chekov's tone is slightly wary. Anyone who hates the Federation and thinks so poorly of Russia's future is suspicious indeed.]

Minsk--I have heard that the weather there is very nice. And no, it is the capital of Belarus.

[rianofski]

Those sound like very idealistic beliefs. Of course, where I come from, the idea of an interplanetary anything is almost inconceivable, so perhaps things have changed significantly over the years.

[He doesn't sound entirely hopeful, but he'll try to maintain some positivity for the future.]

The weather is so-so. I wasn't overly fond of it. Moscow was preferable.

[candothat]

They have, and for the better.

I think that I would prefer Moscow, as well.

[rianofski]

I'm glad to hear that.

[Though he doesn't sound particularly convinced.]

What do you do where you come from?

[candothat]

I navigate a constitution-class spaceship, and sometimes man the science station or help in engineering. It has been over a year since I visited home.

[rianofski]

Interesting. A navigator and an engineer...

[Now he's far more intrigued.]

I consider myself a bit of an engineer as well, though I'm sure what I do must seem obsolete, at best.

[candothat]

And theoretical physicist and stellar cartographer. Ah--not to brag.

[In a few hours, unfortunately, the deity trade will take effect and he won't have any of those skills.]

You are? You do, I mean? I would be interested in what you know. My knowledge of historical engineering is... lacking.

[rianofski]

To some extent. I'm more of an industrialist, but you could call engineering a... particular passion of mine, especially weaponry. I'd be happy to discuss it with you at some point.

[candothat]

And I would be happy to learn what you are willing to discuss with me, sir.

[rianofski]

Then let's plan to meet up and discuss things in several days. I'd like to attempt to recreate some of my notes from home first, at the very least.

[candothat]

I can be available whenever you are.

[rianofski]

I'm glad to hear that. Ah, I don't believe I caught your name before. My apologies. I'm Andrew Ryan.

[candothat]

My apologies as well, Mr. Ryan, for not inquiring. I am Pavel Andreievich Chekov.

[rianofski]

Andreievich, eh?

[He smiles slightly.]

My given name is Andrei, of course. It seems we have a fair amount in common.

[candothat]

That much, at least. You Americanized your name?

[rianofski]

I did. It seemed prudent, given the time.