Deprogramming

I have to admit I don't know how to deprogram groups of cultists. I can't remember they ever taught us that at the Theology Council university. Or it must've been an elective I didn't take.

So, books to the rescue. 

The first few volumes I picked up were no help, really. Bishop Ainslie's "Breaking down Will" doesn't tell much about reconstructing a faith after the breakdown. "Exorcism for dummies", from the famous "for dummies"-series was not quite on topic. Hedion University Press's "Programming for Scientists and Engineers" did not say anything about deprogramming. It made me wonder though, why they make a distinction between scientists and engineers.

Finally I found what I needed in the Theology Council's "Short guide to deprogramming in six parts". Why is it that whenever a book title says "short introduction to..." these turn out to be massive tomes with at least 2000 pages? I think the authors want to brag that their subject is actually so difficult that even a short introduction will take you years to read. Or maybe academic handbook authors are all sarcastic.

Anyway, I could skip the first two parts, "Tome I. Kidnapping the Cultist" and "Tome II. Isolating and Breaking Down the Cultist". Those are better left to MIO professionals. And our cultists are already under guard in the Refugee Center.

Also, I skipped the third part, "Tome III. Discrediting the Cult Leader". I don't think it applied here, Luna is their "leader" against her will. She didn't try to take advantage of these people or lie to them, so I don't see why I have to discredit her. Also, applying Tome III's recipes will land me on the wrong side of an airlock with the book stapled to my chest.

I started with "Tome IV. Presenting contradictions". This is about confronting the false beliefs with reality that contradicts it. Or accounts that contradict it. The book says it is best done by former cult members, and I am glad to say there were some non-believers in the group. They didn't speak out before, because they didn't dare to. But now, encouraged by me, they help. We talk in small groups to the others and expose the nonsense and the contradiction. When Luna feels better, she can contribute to this, by telling people she's not a saint. If she tells it herself, this is much more powerful than when I tell it, and it keeps me on the right side of the airlock.

It's going well, and some groups have already moved on to "Tome V. Encouraging Confession", which is about the cultists themselves voicing their criticism about the cult. After that there's only "Tome VI. Crossing Back to Orthodoxy", which is about the cultists starting to identify themselves with the deprogrammers and seeing themselves as opponents to the cult rather than adherents of it. It is only at this stage that they are ready to see their sins and do penance to rejoin the True Faith.

Lunarism

The last couple of days have been very busy. I was called in for an emergency: a group of cultists arrived in the refugee center and they need to be "deprogrammed". Why this was an emergency -the cluster is full of heretics- was not clear to me, but I went down to the center as soon as I could.

There, it appeared that this particular cult worships our Directrix. Not in a figurative sense; not the benign  admiration that many corporation members have for her. No, they do so obsessively and they adhere to the delusion that she is a prophet of sorts. They were clamoring to see their "savior" and I had the greatest difficulty calming them down initially.

Now, the reader may wonder: what is the origin of Lunarism? 

Apparently, Lunarisse had an industrial plant, I think it was on a gas giant planet in Nibainkier. Seven years ago, she stopped planetary production orders. Probably she assumed that the Nibainkier colony would be simply disbanded, but there must have been a miscommunication. In stead of being evacuated, the colony was left to fend for itself, while colonists were waiting for new orders to come for what must have seemed an eternity.

During the long wait, the figure of Lunarisse as the bringer of goods from outside the colony started to get mythical proportions. Prayers for news from her became prayers to her. Folks were waiting for the coming of Luna like they were waiting for Sefrim to come down and bring deliverance. They adorned the landing pad with effigies of Luna. Megacorp CEO's in the State can only dream about this level of devotion (as I suspect they do).

Needless to say, it all went very wrong. There was a schism when some of them heard propaganda of Nauplius and turned Luna from a saint into a demon. Some sort of civil war ensued. Meanwhile, Luna, not knowing what had transpired, had remembered the planetary industry colony and wanted to check it out. As communications had broken down, she went over to find out what happed. What she found must have been a nasty surprise...

To cut a long story short, the colony is now really disbanded, and the Lunarists have been transported to Mehatoor, where I and lord Garion Avarr face the difficult task of deprogramming them...

War zone patrol

During the attack on Farthest Shore I regretted that I was not able to help more actively with the defense of this structure. I wished to do more.

I have taken a vow of non-agression, which forbids me to inflict damage ("dps") on other capsuleers. And frankly, I prefer peaceful exploration and research to any combat.

I fully intend to keep my vow, and so I must find a role in fleet that allows me to do just that. Logistics, repairing damage done to my fleet mates, fits for me and allows me to keep the vow. Yet I know nothing about fleets: even though I have the repair skills on paper, I have no experience. 

So I was happy that lord Gallus-Onzo organised a teaching fleet and patiently explained to me the basics of remote repairing in practice. That practice was actually a war zone patrol, where I did manage to briefly give repairs, before my little training frigate was primaried. Nevertheless, I was happy to join and experience the talent of lord Gallus-Onzo as a fleet commander and teacher.

Back in Mehatoor, I encountered lord-consort Newelle and lady Yassavi. They appeared congratulatory, content that even a scholar would contribute to the effort in the war zone. I think Lady Yassavi interpreted my participation as if I had finally laid down my fickle powerlessness, and have now embraced the power to harm others.

I'm afraid they have misread my motives. My goal is not the become a warzone soldier - it is to learn logi... I got the impression that lady Yassavi feels power only flows from the barrel of a weapon; this a fallacy all too common in military circles. It disregards the true power which is exerted by diplomats such as Amicia or Lunarisse. Making allies, friends, is what brings victory, in a way that a single pilot or terrorist blinded by the "power" of their gun can never match.

Cat flap

I started installing a cat flap in the door to my quarters, so Mittens can move from the library to my cell freely. 

Drama ensued. 

The station's quarters have a type of sliding doors full of electronics for proximity activation and breach detection. Little did I know I wasn't supposed to use a diamond blade jigsaw on that to make a hole for the cat flap. The breach had been detected, alarms were blaring in some control room, and half a brigade of armed security were moving in, stormtrooper formation.

Apparently there have been some security issues and attacks and such in the past at the Lamp and they're very very jittery. So when the alarms went off of someone sawing through a door they took no risks. But really, a stun grenade? Was that necessary?

And then you would think that they would be happy there was no real emergency this time (except for my eardrums), but no. I was told in a very impolite way to have the door replaced immediately and not to drill through it again.

To be honest, I was going to replace the door anyway. Turns out I hadn't thought it through very well: with the cat flap thing attached to it, the sliding door didn't manage to slide all the way any more, thunking the protruding cat flap against the side and going back and forth. 

Maybe I should make a hole in the wall next too the door?

Mittens settling in

The cat is adapting well to its new environment. My monk's cell is too small for it, so I let her go about in the SFRIM sections of the station, in particular the library. She's been given a tracking chip so I can find her when she would get lost. 

She's a brindle cat with an M on her forehead, and white paws. I've started to call it Mittens because of her paws, and she seems to agree with that name because she responds to it. I don't think she liked being called Saint Snuggles.

Unfortunately, Lunarisse is allergic to cats. It didn't take her long during one of her visits to the library to get full-fledged allergy symptoms... I'll put up a notice and get some extra vacuuming bots for the library, especially when Mittens is shedding fur.

Goodbye Farthest Shore

Farthest Shore is still on my mind today. I wonder why the pirates wanted to get rid of it soo much that they accepted great losses at the hands of our pilots.

The station did not have a flourishing market, being in a dead end system of an out-of the way constellation. It's significance as a reasearch outpost for the Gate has dried up since the coming of a brand new Kor-Azor research outpost. The scientists making observations of the gate prefer the new and state-of-the-art equipment at the new outpost.

Farthest shore did not have a military strategic significance. At least, not as long as Eve Gate doesn't miraculously re-opens, but only the Equilibrium of Mankind death cultists believe that, not the roadside brigands of White Sky.

Being highwaymen, they make a living of robbing and murdering pilgrims and visitors that travel the lonely path through Eve constellation towards New Eden. There are no public stations around for several systems around, so their victims can't dock up... unless they find Farthest Shore. It has a reputation of welcoming visitors. Of course, there are also some murderous psychopaths among the pirate capsuleers, who just wanted to murder for fun. 

But in the end I think that the station thwarted too many of their highway robbery attempts. And, I guess they had to strike now or never, before the Paladin fleet gets integrated in the alliance fleet... 

Anyhow, enough theorizing: I have to go get a litter box and cat litter. Farthest Cat chose a 300k ISK sister's core scanner probe as its favorite toilet substitute.

 

Battle at the Gate

What we feared has happened. Farthest Shore has been destroyed by the enemy, the brigands of White Sky and the pirates of No Forks Given.

Last night's evacuation went well, so the relics and the station clergy and personnel are safe and sound in highsec Empire space. Thank God, there are no civilian victims.

Lumen light brigade squadrons, helped by friends from Brave, stayed behind to face the enemy. And face them fiercely they did. Outnumbered and undershipped, our valiant fleet of assault frigates and harbingers nevertheless tore through the initial waves of attackers, forcing them to reship and bring ever larger vessels into the fray.

A dreadnought! They brought an Eater of Fleets. But Farthest Shore did not surrender. Its fighter pilots and station gunners pounded the dreadnought. The missile tubes of the station glowed red from the constant firing. Assisted by this barrage, the light brigade managed to destroy the dreadnought - making sure that any enemy victory would be pyrrhic at best.

At this point our enemies were out of their doctrine vessels, and were bringing in whatever kitchen sink ship they still had on hand at their barracks in Central Point. Another dreadnought and an Apostle capital ship were brought in. Ah, how close did the station gunners get to destroy it too! Alas, our fleet was getting whittled down from wave after wave of attack, and could achieve no additional miracle.

At 5:39, Farthest Shore's hull collapsed and the station exploded. 

Most of the light brigade fleet succeeded in retreating, using deep safe points that were made during all these years of observation in New Eden.

The last service at Farthest Light

All those that stayed on their post till the last evacuation vessel were gathered in Farthest Light chapel. The clergy and monastics of the Little Sisters of the Most Holy Sword were present. Also some station personnel that did a last sweep through the station attended. The burly barkeep of Farthest Star was still here, eyes wet now that the capsuleer bar has been dismantled and parts shipped off. Some pilots who fight in the battle in a few hours time were also here. I've only seen the pews soo full on one occasion, Luna and Franco's wedding...

The service was sober, and yet intense. There are three relics that sanctify the chapel: a book from Scripture, an artifact dating back from around the time the Gate must have closed, and a relic from saint Junip.They were all transfered to travel reliquaries, according to the prescripted rite of Translation of Relics. 

They were brought in procession to the blockade runner vessel that will fly them to safety, along with the clergy and the last station personnel. I followed in the Ratakh Hubrau.

Now only the pilots and their volunteer crews -knowing very well the risk- remain in the station. Maybe all in all a few hundred souls will spend a short tense night in this vast station, made to easily house tens of thousands.

I felt anguish as I closed the doors of the chapel, maybe for the last time. I will not sleep tonight, rather I will keep a vigil and pray for our soldiers.

Taking in a refugee

I docked up at Farthest Shore. The station looks battered and bruised, but at the same time there is a buildup of energy, nanites ready to repair it.

I don't have a lot of stuff here, mostly artifacts I gathered while exploring the system. I've loaded it all up in the Ratakh Hubrau, double checking that its cloaking modules and warp core are in perfect working order.

Luna has asked me to hold a service at Farthest Shore's chapel and perform a rite of Translation of Relics. The relics that sanctify the chapel will be moved to safety. They will be evacuated along with the clergy that is still around and the last of the station personnel evacuees. As these logs that you read are public, I will not write more about it today, but report on it tomorrow, after hopefully everyone is safe and sound in highsec Empire space.

I've taken on a refugee too, and she will accompany me home in the Ratakh Hubrau.

I found her in a part of the station that was already evacuated, or rather, she found me. 

As Brother Sarachem did not answer my call, I went to check if he is not meditating in his hermit's cell and missed the evac. He chose to live in a part of the station that is rather derelict even in normal times. But now, with the evac, it is downright ghostly there. There's no-one around, and many parts are already in low-power mode. Expensive enough stuff that can be moved has been removed, even from the walls, so some parts look as if they were ransacked.

The doors to Sarachem's cell were powered off, so I had to pry them open. He wasn't there. I couldn't decice what to do with his stuff, but in the end I decided to leave it there. There wasn't much in his ascetic cell anyway. 

I met her when I walked back through the abandoned passageways, not far from the hermit's cell. A scrawny cat, most probably a feral thing that hid in unused spaces. She came up to me and lept up, jumping on me and meowing. Purring when I picked her up, bumping her head against me. 

Animals feel when things are wrong, I am sure this kittycat feels the danger now. Maybe on a normal day she'd shred me if I tried to pet her, but now she treated me as if I was Gheinok himself. 

The other thing is, cats and kittens are my soft spot. They sense that as well. So I could not leave her behind... I brought her on board and fed her. I still have to find a name for her. I lean towards Gates, or maybe Farthest Cat, or maybe I'll ask for suggestions at the next callsign ceremony.

Evacuation notice

Now that Farthest Shore is reinforced to hull, evacuations are taking place of all personnel and equipment that is not strictly necessary for its hull defense.

So, I have sent word to warn my friends in New Eden of the precarious state of Farthest Shore. 

Professor Moriarty, an expert on ultra-high-velocity experimental ships, was in New Eden several months ago. We met and had very pleasant discussions. He taught me the stellar bounce manoeuver. Maybe he still has assets there? He is a bit distracted, almost stereotypical for a professor. I'm afraid any automated message about the hull reinforcement may have been snowed under by urgent messages from his students or his team members. Anyway, I sent him a message.

Then there's Brother Sarachem. He and Father Sartorius belong to the Goner sect that believes in a "Mother Earth" beyond the Gate. The sect is heterodox but that doesn't mean I shouldn't try to reach them. They fly to the Gate using corvettes. In between the long flights by which they slowly inch their bookmarks ever closer to the Gate, they rest up in the station, I can see them in the guest manifest. They can be quite... deeply meditating, and may not heed the evacuation notices. I sent a message, but I'm afraid it won't reach them in time.

They stay in parts of the station that are otherwise unused (Farthest Shore is far too big for a system that has as little traffic as New Eden). It helps them find peace and meditate. I'm afraid they will be overlooked. I plan to go over to Farthest Shore to get out some personal stuff I have there, and while I'm there I will check that brother Sarachem is safe.

Battle in New Eden

Moments of joy and moments of sorrow follow each other in quick succession in this universe that we inhabit. A few days ago, my heart was lifted by the news that the holy Paladins of PIE will join us in closer alliance. But today I feel anguished and worried, as I got the news that Farthest Shore, our Astrahus "house among the stars" in New Eden, is under attack by pirate scum. 

I have a personal connection with that station. When I started my quest as a capsuleer, one of the first theories I investigated is that the Ametat and Avetat are on a lost expedition between the New Eden star and Eve Gate. I spent quite some time in the system. 

Lunarisse was a stranger to me then, but she offered me access to Farthest Shore, and allowed me to use it as a base of operations, and showed me a bookmark closer to the Gate than I'd ever been before. Up till that moment, I had not trusted her, because I had read on the forums of her attack on an archeological expedition. Now I know that expedition was led by the heretic Nauplius, but back then I didn't know him yet.

It was that small token of trust that convinced me of her good intentions, and that made me think of joining SFRIM, and that in the end led to me finding a place in this corporation, the best that Amarr can offer for a friar-capsuleer. 

I've been back many times to Farthest Shore. For contemplative retreats. To continue a personal study of the Gate. To meet up with other explorers. To visit the new Kor-Azor research station. To join Lunarisse and Franco in marriage. To simply gaze at the whisps of plasma emanating from the Mouth of God while sitting on a pew in the Farthest Light chapel. 

These New Eden visits have helped my quest, through contacts and talks with the people in system. Through a gift of God, an encouragement in the form of an abandoned vessel that He put on my path.

I feel an acute sense of powerlessness. I am not a soldier and so I am unable to meaningfully assist in the military actions against the pirate scum that target Farthest Shore. In stead, I will do what I must do: pray to God and all the Saints for the defeat of the pirates.

A holy union

When I first looked into capsuleer corporations in the hope of learning about archeological expeditions, I was surprised to find some tension between PIE and SFRIM. One was like the Sword of the empire, the other was the Shield, and their strategies did not always fully align. I prayed at the time that these differences would be resolved - Sword and Shield are most powerful when both are wielded together by the warrior.

Today, I woke up to the joyous news that my prayers have been heard: PIE and SFRIM join together under the alliance umbrella of LUMEN. I look forward to meeting the PIE paladins in the halls of Mehatoor, and to strengthen the ties with their famous library and museum in Oris!

The fallacy of meritocracy

Our Caldari friends are organizing a conference to sing the praises of meritocracy, for their Union Day. Those not born and bred Caldari cannot participate, not even based on merit. Nevertheless, I felt inspired to write my thoughts on the subject.

First, the shield: a defense of our own system.

I note that State detractors of our Amarrian Holder system point out that a hereditary aristocracy is not “fair”, as it is based on the randomness of birth, whereas a meritocracy rewards one on one’s capacities and abilities. This has always seemed somewhat silly to me. On the one hand, people have acceded to nobility based on their achievements and work. On the other hand, one’s intellectual capacities or physical strength is also strongly influenced by one’s set of genes.

Smart people or Holders, both are part of a kind of lucky sperm club. 

 

Second, the sword, for the offense against meritocracy.

Meritocracy assumes in its essence that value can be narrowed down to a point where people can be ranked, placed in an ordered list according to their worth. But is the successful CEO who does not see his children superior to the lowly laborer who is an excellent father? Worth, merit, value: like beauty they all contain so many incomparable dimensions that creating a universally accepted ordered set out of a population is not possible.

Nevertheless, meritocratic corporations insist on selecting people from ranked lists. So how do they judge merit then? Typically, there will be a panel of meritorious men and women who will set up the criteria. In order not to run into a contradiction, the panel members must assign a high score of merit to these traits that they themselves possess. After all, it can only be a panel of meritorious people that is qualified to decide what is merit. And that's where it goes wrong.

Those that started out as meritous will by there definition only strengthen their merit, concentrating power to them and their favorite circle. Those that are not born talented -according to the panel's criteria- are deemed not to deserve success and growth in a meritocracy. Moreover, it's their own fault. The unmeritous are more irredeemable than our lowest slaves.

Many in today's State now protest their corporate leadership, decrying corruption and nepotism and yearning for a return to merit-based leadership. They fail to see that this concentration power in corrupt entitled leadership is the necessary outcome of a callous unrestrained meritocracy.

 

[[ooc comment: the term "lucky sperm club" to describe a talent-based aristocracy was, to the best of my knowledge, coined by Michael Young in his book "The Rise of Meritocracy". I found the book itself somewhat long-winded, but the author's short introduction to the transaction publisher's edition is brilliant]]

Association for Interdisciplinary Research

New opportunities may have arisen for research collaborations: the "Association for Interdisciplinary Research". It is supported by the Servant Sisters of Eve (who provide laboratory equipment) and Ishukone, and it is run by former members of these corporations.

Apart from making it easier for people to become a capsuleer and to grow their skills, it is at the moment unclear what they plan to do in practice. Both parent organizations have contributed technological breakthroughs, the most notorious being the Sister of Eve's exploration vessels. Maybe we will get new technology again?

I find it a bit uncharacteristic for the Servant Sisters of Eve - they usually keep their secrets to themselves, and have their own organisations for various purposes. They explore the Gate and want to unlock it, like so many other organizations that I come across during my own search. All roads to relics lead to the Gate it seems. But they do not share their knowledge freely, and so I do not fully trust them.

We'll see if this Association will be a true scientific society or a front for something else.

Reflection on the Achuran faith

I have been reflecting on my stay in the Achuran monastery. I've been thinking about their religion, and why it doesn't fit me.

I noticed that they are very open to exploration and understanding the universe, and I admire that. They try to see through the bias and refute the illusions that our mind adds to reality. Also that appeals to me.

All our sensory inputs are preprocessed by the mind before they enter our consciousness - otherwise we wouldn't be able to make sense of the cacophony of inputs that overwhelm our senses every second of every hour of every day. But this preprocessing also distorts and colors reality around us. We have evolved to see only cause and effect, and to divide the world into boundaried objects and categories. We create mental narratives to order incoherent impressions into a coherent framework. Through these narratives we are impelled to attach importance to certain silly things, such as pieces of paper with numbers printed on them, in order to infuse our life with an illusion of meaning and importance.

The Achuran monks want to pierce these illusions. In particular the monastery of the Seeing Blind that I stayed at tries to do this by exposing us to absurd stories, of which I have received my share. They are meant to shock us into dropping our filters and seeing raw reality.

What is the goal of that? I think it is do free us from the desires that stem from our constructs, the desire to be rich or powerful or popular. The desire to possess things and people. These desires are illusory, so they must stem from the filters and narratives that we put up in our mind, according to their reasoning. And these desires are what leads to our unhappiness and to evil. That last part, I can agree on.

Even though I can agree with these tenets, there was something that bothered me, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Until now. I realized that what I miss in Achur faith is the social dimension. As I understood it (imperfectly, given my extremely short exposure), it is most focused on freeing oneself, on personal improvement and growth and reaching enlightenment by and for oneself.

Our faith is not so much about raising ourselves up, our faith is much more about our relation to the others around us than it is about our own enlightenment. Of course both faiths talk about self-improvement as well as relations to others, but I'm discerning a nuance in focus. Our faith is more about lifting your neighbor out of the darkness. It's about sharing the fragile flame of faith with others, rather than freeing yourself from pain. 

That's what I missed, I think, in the Achur faith, or in what I could glimpse of it during my short stay with them.

The Gardens of the Empire

The week-long celebrations of Foundation day came to a close. For me, they ended yesterday in a grand finale - a tour of the "Gardens of the Empire", hosted by Lunarisse.

The gardens are inside a luxurious yacht, docked in Amarr. I had no idea our Directrix had a taste for such luxury vessels. Or maybe she hasn't, and the yacht is just an excellent place to house a mobile botanical exhibit.

To be honest, it is much more than a botanical garden or an arboretum. Each hall is an exquisitely composed biosphere, reproducing also the atmosphere of a place, and telling a story. There were foreigners and new capsuleers on our tour, and I think through these immersive life-size dioramas they learnt about our customs and our history.

The gardens bear a very personal touch. I was moved by the colonist's storm planet garden depicting life on Anath V, the planet where Lunarisse lived as a child with her parents until the fateful Blooder attack. And the oasis garden, it was modeled on the oases of Mishi IV, where Luna's family is from. 

So, while for the outsider the tour is glance into the Empire, for those that know Lunarisse they also offer a view into the places of her past. It is nice to know that there are some new gardens in the making, I think they will offer a view of her hopes for the future.

God's name

Elsebeth Rhiannon told a tale at the Inter-Galactic Summit that is very much intra-galactic. 

Ms. Rhiannon is not merely a terrorist but she is also a wonderful storyteller, and offers an insight into the mind of the apostate Minmatar. They believe in spirits that have names and live with us in this world, and God for them is merely one of these spirits, albeit a very powerful one. Of course, they see it as a malevolent spirit. To them, it is an angry spirit, cut off from the original world of spirits, and the only  nameless spirit. Their animistic religion mirrors the cruelty and violence of their society.

Nevertheless, the story of God's namelessness reminded me of a beautiful prayer of St. Gregory of Nahyeen:

God beyond all things earthly,
By no other name could I call You!
You are beyond words,
when all words stem from You.

You who name all names,
You are the only unnameable one.
How could I call you other than
God beyond all things earthly.

You see, our theologians agree that God does not have a name like John or Lisa. But rather than seeing this as a weakness or a punishment, it is a characteristic of strength, or rather of God's transcendent nature. He from who all names stem is beyond naming, as the Saint points out. 

 

((ooc attribution: this paraphrased short piece is part of a longer prayer on the trancendent nature of God by St. Gregory of Nazianzen, a fourth century archbishop of Constantinople who was clearly an Amarrian))

Tour guide

For Foundation day, tours of monuments and historic places in the Empire had been organised. I had the pleasure of being a tour guide for capsuleers, for a tour in space around Amarr. 

There are many additional things to see in lowsec space nearby, but we stuck to highsec, so we could get newly graduated capsuleers to join us. The tour brought us from Doriam's reign to Jamyl's reign to the current day. 

There were many places of wonder, such as the monument for one of the first miner tycoons and the fortified monastery of the Order of Tetrimon. There were also places that bring strong emotions - the Elder war memorial, the wreck of Jamyl's titan, and the space cemetery in Molea. I am amazed that there are so many wonders to see within a few jumps from Amarr, and I even left out some, like the conserved experimental construction site of the first Upwell astrahus.

I haven't been in space during many momentous events, such as the Elder war or the attack on saint Jamyl. Luna, and lord-consort Newelle were there, and while we visited these place I could sense how strongly it still affects them. The monument that evokes the strongest emotion in me is the Molea cemetary. It has this immense number of graves, the vastness of which you can only appreciate if you fully zoom out on the grid, each of which bears a message for a lost loved one. It reminds me how interconnected we are as capsuleers, how much we form our own community in between the stars.

Moon drill archeology

I read about a remarkable archeology incident that happened just a few days ago.

The idea appears lunatic to start with. Using a moon drill for archeology. Yes, a moon drill, that excavates a chunk of moon about a hundred kilometers across and drags it into orbit where it can be exploded into a moon ore belt.

As tools for planetside (or moonside) archeology, I am more used to the artifact chip brush for carefully removing dust from precious findings. If really necessary, a small hand shovel or an excavation knife can be used. If you are a real brute, you can add a rock hammer and a chisel to your toolkit. But a moon drill?

Reading more into the details, the idea becomes a bit less crazy (just a tiny bit). As the head of the project, ms. Lauralite Anne Brezia explains, the moon drill actually does not hit the center of the region that it excavates, it digs around it. It is a bit like moving a precious plant to a new spot in the garden, you use the shovel and keep a clod of earth around its roots intact. Yet as every gardener knows, the plant does suffer. At the center of the region that is extracted by the moon drill, there will be extremely strong seismic activity. So, you will need a lot of inertial stabilizers to keep any structure from collapsing. 

Also, buildings are constructed with gravity in mind, and often it is the weight of stone on stone which provides the structural stability of the construction. Bringing it off the moon into weightlessness requires special consolidation techniques. All this effort makes me think it is easier to disassemble the ruins stone by stone and reassemble them elsewhere.

Now for this ruin, disassembly may not have been possible. It is an underground structure, several kilometers wide and half a kilometer below the surface of Umai, the first moon of Eugales V. Indeed this is not something you can transport without a huge clod of earth around it. I do not know why it cannot be investigated in situ, though. 

There is also some mystery surrounding the particular relics that were in the ruins - they may be advanced AI's. This brings its own problems: it is a bit like thawing a virus from a chunck of ancient ice and hoping it isn't a lethal pathogen. It also of course brings its own opportunities - the AI could hold immensely valuable historical data.

Unfortunately, we will probably not know. The moon drill technique went wrong: the tractor beam failed and dropped the chunk back onto the moon. The crash was more than any intertial stabilizer can handle...

Foundation Day celebrations

Foundation day celebrations are in full swing. SFRIM and PIE organised a memorable parade fleet and fireworks display, and on Sunday I'm helping out with historical tours along the sights of highsec Amarr.

The Empress addressed her subjects, and reminded us of our destiny in a rousing speech. As a result I've seen there are many new capsuleers lining up to join SFRIM and I guess also PIE, to show their loyalty and the desire to serve, which burns strongly in their hart now. Ah on days like these I am full of confidence in the glorious future of our Empire!

Happy Foundation Day celebrations, all!

Riddles

A new mystery is always enjoyable. Yesterday, mr. Jason Statesman came to the library. He'd been there before, for books on Amarr customs. He is born in the Federation, but it is unmistakable: his noble face betrays Amarrian descent. His mother confessed on her deathbed that his father is indeed from our Empire, but he does not know the identity of his father.

Yesterday, he brought his heritage: a puzzle-box which appears (to me) to be made by Jin-Mei artisans. It contains three items: a book that has become wet so the pages fused, a small fist made of noble metals, and a badge with blast damage. I kept the book and the ornate fist for further investigations. 

I'm comparing the fist to existing depictions, used in family crests and corporation logos. Meanwhile, I have the book examined, planetside, with an X-ray fluorescence scanner (we don't have this type of equipment at the library). 

The mould has fused the pages together but this imaging technique allows to scan layer by layer without the need of opening the book. It shows where the chemical elements used for  pigments are located. Doing so, it reveals the text or print below another one, even if the text would have been overwritten. The microscopic three-dimensional reconstruction allows to reconstitute the text. A full restoration this way takes years and a dedicated research student so that will not be possible here. Nevertheless, in the span of a few days we should be able to identify the book by getting a glimpse of its first page.

I hope this reveals clues as to the identity of Jason's father - it would be so nice if they can be re-united.

A new challenge

I'm back in Mehatoor, at my familiar library. A bunch of mail was waiting for me, and a couple of surprises. 

The first one is that Lunarisse is expecting a baby. God has not waited long to bless her marriage, this is a good sign! Come to think of it, I did note a distinct uptick in motherhood books and baby-care books, in her library loans, but I didn't quite connect the dots till I saw her again.

The second surprise is a job offer. A new challenge! Gottin's Lamp chapel in Mehatoor is short-handed. Lord Baracca, the official chaplain, has been gone for Empire duties now for quite a while. From time to time, I provided a bit of spiritual help to people who would ask for it in the library, on those moments that it was too busy in the chapel.

Now, Lunarisse offered me the job of co-chaplain. I gladly accepted. It lies closer to my calling, and to my training. Although I am ordained, I might be a bit rusty since I haven't had to perform rites at the monastery. But in the past months I've been doing some: taking confessions, funeral rites, and of course a high-profile capsuleer wedding.

Of course that doesn't mean my quest ends, nor does my academic work at the library end. But I will be glad to let mr. Jensen handle administrative duties for the library. Oh, and I must get back in touch with Arne Maleto, Ishta's brother. He was looking for a job as a helper in the library, and extra hands there will be needed now.

Economic measures

As I return back from the remote corner of Achura where the monastery was, the contrast with the regular Caldari society strikes me again. I seem to reconnect with modernity and the busy daily worries of the capsuleer. Also my communications devices reconnected to galnet in full force, flooding my mind with news of the past weeks while the bullet train brings me back to the Saisio's central hub for interstellar travel. 

The most striking news is that the SCC central banking commissions are enacting a massive monetary operation, pumping trillions of ISK in the cluster's economy, mostly via direct grants to capsuleers. Some of this has already been plundered by the Gurista's! At the same time, the tax rates for market transactions have been strongly reduced. 

These are measures directed at reviving a stagnating economy, where income from mining has dropped, production is down, and prices are still going up. I hope the measures work - and I expect at least on the short term to see a boost in trading on the markets. With incentives to sell industrial stockpiles and flush money for capsuleers to buy ships, this is bound to happen. But if the measures overshoot the mark, on the long run this could lead to a serious inflation problem.

Goodbyes

I said goodbye to the friendly monks of the monastery of the Seeing Blind. It has been a nice and productive stay, I feel I learned a lot. I got the see a shard of the Rod of the Creator and get data on its composition and dating, so I can call my visit a success. Yet I feel that the monks always kept a certain polite distance in their interactions, and that is a bit a pity. I guess two weeks is not long enough to get to know people, but still. If anything, it makes me want to return and continue our discussions at some point.

White Song

My last couple of days in Saisio III. I feel that I've finally adapted to the temple routines. How typical for travel - just as you start getting the hang of a place you have to leave again. 

Don't get me wrong: I'm looking forward to returning to the library, I've missed it. But I have to admit that in Mehatoor it seems there is always some sort of emergency at hand. Here I enjoy the fact that there is nothing special to do - prayer and contemplation. I enjoy the rest and the quietness of this monastery, its mild-mannered monks, the interesting polite discussions on theology and the patient explanations of rites and customs. It is nice to pray and meditate while resting my eyes on the views of the lake from the mountain.

As a parting gift, and because master Drellken noticed that I like to go for a walk in the forests surrounding the monastery, he has fixed me a guide who could bring me to see Achuran White Song birds. They are beautiful creatures, completely white as their name suggests. Around dawn and around dusk they sing their songs, in always new enchanting variations. 

They are rare, and indeed I had not spotted a single one during any of my walks. They are also quite famous in the history of Achura. Long ago, when Achura was an independent empire, the White Song was a symbol of imperial power and purity. Commoners could not keep them in captivity, only in places like their Royal Tower they were kept. A war was fought over this, when one contender to the throne started keeping White Songs in his own palace. Nowadays, these birds still command the respect of the Achur people, who protect the populations and try to increase their numbers in the wild.

We left before dawn and it was good to have an experienced guide with me, to navigate the mountain paths in the dark. Saisio III does not have moons, and its asteroid belt is but the faintest trace of light on the sky. The guide took me to a grove where trees grow that bear a fruit the White Song love.

We could hear the birds already singing as we arrived at the grove. We found a good spot, and sat down. It is hard to see the birds in the trees, but I caught a few glimpses of them. Their song is definitely more impressive than the little birds themselves! Sometimes they appear to have a conversation, singing tunes one bird after another. Sometimes they make a choir, they synchronizing their songs when they sing at the same time. It was a beautiful dawn, I felt as if God had been granted me a few hours in paradise.

Data on the shard

Any ore that is mined contains a unique mix of rare element impurities, including radioisotopes. The particular relative abundances of these elements is like a fingerprint that can reveal from which system the ore comes, and sometimes even from which mine it comes.

On top of that, the radioisotopes will decay over time, resulting in a chain of decay products many of which are long-lived rare isotopes too. The ratios of the decay products in turn allows you to date the time when the ore was mined. The more unknowns there are, the more ratios need to be measured to provide a closed set of equations. It is an art on its own, at the crossroads between astrogeology, nuclear physics and history, to identify isotopes with useful decay chains for dating.

I was hoping to use the data from my ocular filter to do such dating and tracing on the shard, but the error bars I got on my estimates were still massive. 

Yet, it turns out that no subterfuge was needed to get such data. Master Drellken was happy to talk about the dating efforts on the relic. The Achur investigate their relics with great scientific rigor, and what he shared agrees with my own scarce and imperfect amateur measurement. 

They date their shard at 15000 years old, give or take a milennium. The rare element composition cannot be matched to any known system (excluding wormhole space and Jovian systems). The relic is nano-engineered with a precision not matched even by the Jove. 

Master Drellken explained that this is not unexceptional for relics found on Achura, especially the relics attributed in folklore to the "old Gods". The Elder Visionaries speculate on their origins, with a popular theory being that these relics are remnants of an advanced civilization that spanned the entire cluster before the dark age, before even the Talocan or the Jove. This would be the "Cradle of Mankind" civilization - the common ancestor of Amarr, Caldari, Gallente and Minmatar. Some, like the Goners, claim these ancestors come from beyond the gate.

While the relics may corroborate such theories, they are of course no proof!

According to the Achur themselves, Achura would have been an important planet for that ancient civilization, maybe even their homeworld. Some Achur patriots see themselves as the heirs to that mythical civilization...

I confess that I am curious whether our own Amarrian older relics have a similar composition - with my scan of the shard and the additional data I was given, I could figure out in principle. But I have to contain this unhealthy curiosity - it might invite the demon of pure thought to attack my soul. After all, the Code of Demeanor teaches us that the sin of pure thought is science that forgets the spiritual context of our relics.

A shard of the Rod

It was in the middle of the night when my exchange mentor, master Drellken, appeared at the cabin where I stayed, in the company of four armed guards.

A rude awakening.

I feared I had unknowingly made some unforgivable cultural misstep, maybe said some blasphemous thing by accident? Or maybe I failed to properly sign all the correct forms back at the immigration office? Was I going to be executed on the spot, imprisoned, or merely banished?

Luckily, it was nothing of the sort. The Elder Visionary leading the temple of the Seeing Blind has decided I am allowed to see their shard of the Rod of the Creator. As a precautionary measure they did not tell me in advance, so it would be more difficult if I were a thief preparing a heist.

I could not bring any scanning device to investigate the relic. In fact I could not bring anything else but the sandals on my feet and the pajama I was wearing - my favorite one with the sleeping kittens print. However, capsuleers never come fully unprepared, and this particular clone's implant slot 1 was equipped with ocular filter augmentations specialized in materials analysis. It would have to suffice.

The ocular filter wasn't much help at the start though, since I was blindfolded and led on a walk. I think I am pretty sure where we went, I came to know the grounds a bit, but I will not write it down here should rogue eyes read these logs.

The relic was displayed for me on a table, we were in a vault when my eyes were uncovered at last. The guards were tense. Master Drellken was here, as well as some other older monks I have not seen before. They were looking at me like an exam jury scrutinizing a student.

I offered a prayer of gratitude and meditated a bit in the presence of this relic, so holy to the Achur. I meditated a bit more as the ocular filter took its readings. To the unaugmented eye the shard looks deceptively unimpressive. A small black shard with a metallic shine, similar to black hematite or obsidian. On one side a few lines that were part of a carving of sorts, but nothing can be made from these line segments - they do not reveal the grander design that was covering the entire Rod when it was still in one piece. 

After a short while, the guards blindfolded me again. I thanked my hosts, and the guards took me back to my cabin. 

Of course I couldn't sleep any more.

The unlucky peasant

In today's discussion with my mentor we talked about how I hiked up to the monastery. I was telling him about the peasant that was looking at me from his field, and he seemed to know him. Master Drellken then told me another of his stories, which I try to recount here.

One day, the horse of the peasant ran away. It was his only horse. So the villagers pitied him, telling him  "That is so bad", and "You have really bad luck". He just answered "We'll see."

A couple days later, the horse returned, and there were two wild horses following it. The peasant now had three horses in stead of one, and the villagers went "Lucky you! That turned out all right". Again, the peasant said "We'll see.".

The peasant's only son tried to tame the wild horses, but he was thrown off and broke his leg and couldn't help any more in the field. You can imagine the villagers' reaction: "That's awful!", "I'm so sorry". But the peasant replied: "We'll see."

Soon after, the Caldari Navy recruiters came for the young men of the village, I think it was at the onset of the Triglavian war, but they passed over the peasant's son on account of his broken leg. Some villagers whose sons had signed up and who worried, told him "You got lucky!".  The peasant thought a while, and said: "We'll see."

That's the end of the story. As usual I don't quite know what to make of it. Is this referring to the fact that the State would go on to lose so many systems to the Triglavians? Or is it a tale about the wisdom of the peasant who sees beyond good and bad things? I asked what the peasant meant by his "we'll see"s, and my mentor answered,

"Ah, nothing probably. When the peasant was young he had a stroke, and was left with brain damage, a kind of aphasia. He can only speak this one sentence, 'we'll see', even though in his mind he thinks he's said something quite different. Doctors can't cure it. His wife learned to interpret the intonation of his 'we'll see's to figure out what he wants."

Stunned I said, "So... he's not wise, really?"

To my further surprise my mentor answered: "Oh no, even before his stroke I thought he is one of the wisest persons I have met."

I raised  my eyebrow at that. "Ah, such bad luck then that he had this stoke."

My mentor grinned and said "We'll see."

Stormy weather

Today there was a storm. This required the full attention of all the monks, as they prepared the monastery to withstand the torrential rains and the gale force winds. Stroms come in from the other side of the mountain range, where the sea lies, so usually they have lost their power when they arrive lakeside. Still, they can do a lot of damage, winds uprooting trees and lightning strikes causing destruction.

We were gathered in the central temple for the duration of the storm, to avoid people getting caught in accidents. It was fierce. And yet, some monks were allowed to stay outside, continuing their meditation, apparently unperturbed. 

I kept myself occupied with revising a text I am working on during my spare time here, a chronicle of our war in Pochven. But the storm made it hard for me to concentrate on this work.

The cleanup started as soon as the storm subsided. I'll be looking for the blue knitted caps of the statues in the woods for a while...

The challenger

I was still thinking about the grand master who thinks he is the best archer in the universe but doesn't know it is because his apprentices carefully paint bull's eyes around his arrows wherever they land. 

When master Drellken came to see how I was doing, I asked him if no-one ever told grand master Nori about the deception.

He thought for a bit, and then said, "Actually, one day, a young champion archer came to challenge the venerable Nori. He came to the training field, and showed off his skill. He shot an arrow right in the bull's eye from certainly one hundred meters. Then the took a second arrow, and shot it with an aim so good that the second arrow splintered the first arrow. He yelled out at master Nori to come and do better."

"So, grand master Nori took him to the forest, to a place where an old tree bridges a deep ravine. The tree is not stable and mushrooms feast on its rot. Master Nori carefully stepped on the tree and walked to the middle of the ravine. The tree creaked and cracked and shook and pieces fell into the deep, but master Nori didn't fall. He shot an arrow which landed in a tree trunk farther away. He then carefully stepped back and with a little leap made it back to the safe rock at the side."

"The challenger may have been an excellent archer, but he did not dare to stand on the rickety tree. As the champion bowed his head in defeat, master Nori explained to him 'you have trained your eyes and the muscles in your arms, but you forgot to train your mind'."

I guess that was my lecture for the day, as my mentor left and I still don't understand how master Nori can be thought of as the best archer in the universe.

The master archer

On several occasions during my walks through the forest I noticed, usually in places difficult to access, an archery target with a single arrow right in the middle of the bull's eye.

Curious about this, I asked my mentor Drellken about it.

He said those are from grand master Nori's archery sessions: "Grand master Nori is the best archer in the universe. Sometimes he wants to make sure he is still so good. Then, he instructs his apprentices to blindfold him, and to lead him to a random place in the woods where the target practice will take place. He doesn't know in advance where this will be."

"There they spin poor master Nori around and toss him around, and it is not rare that he falls and hurts himself, as he is already very old and gets easily disoriented. But then he stands up, and still as blindfolded as he was all the time, he takes his bow, places an arrow, aims without looking, and shoots."

"Only after the arrow has flown its course through the air and landed with a satisfying thud, master Nori allows himself to take off his blindfold. And every single time all can see that his shot has indeed again hit the bull's eye. What you encounter on your walks, are the results of such field archery exercises."

I was in awe, and without due deference I asked "But... if he can't see and doesn't know where the target is, how does take aim? Is God guiding the arrow for this holy man?"

"Probably not." my mentor answered, "As soon as the arrow leaves the bow, the apprentices run after it, and when it lands, they quickly paint a target around the arrow. They are good at this and train for it all year round, so they can do it without grand master Nori knowing."

As our directrix would say: Okies.

I asked "And... he never figured it out, grand master Nori?"

At this my mentor laughed heartily and replied "How do you expect an weary old man to notice if you yourself don't notice such things? You haven't even noticed the apprentices running around you!". Still laughing and shaking his head, he left me in my confusion.  

((ooc disclaimer: The stories Theodosius hears from the other monks during his stay in the Achura monestary do not come from my own imagination: I picked them from the folk tales and stories I collected while traveling around, told to me by the random people I meet during these travels.))

The role of idols in Achur faith

Life at the Achur monastery is peaceful and contemplative. It is strangely dissonant with anything I associate with Caldari corporatism. I've always mentally pictured the Caldari as a kind of "ant colony people", where the individual worker ants exhaust themselves for the good of the industrious colony. This monastery is about as far removed from that mental picture as possible. It is as if all the modernity and space technology cannot reach this ancient place. It doesn't want to build something new, or produce something tangible, it is meant to help individuals to discover some truth about themselves.

I've asked if I could be given a simple task to help my brothers. And so I've been tasked with maintenance work on the myriad of statues and idols that are on the monastery grounds. Some need cleaning of cobwebs, moss or leaves. Some wear blue knitted caps, and the caps must be replaced when they become too weathered or winds blew them off the statues.

I inquired with master Drellken about the statues. I thought that the Achur faith did not worship gods or saints, as I was told it ponders the universal truth and the redemption of the self.

He explained that while this is indeed so, common villagers don't care all that much about the deep practices of Achur faith and they think worshiping the spirits or old gods in the statues is a good deed. But in fact, the statues are just symbols, for example to pay tribute to wise men of the past who taught about the truth. They can be like images of a loved one you keep near and can look at to bring back memories. The monks don't worship them and know they cannot reach the truth by worshiping them. They use them in their rites to remember teachings and to help focus.

Something similar goes for relics, but they have in addition the property that maybe still something new can be learned from them, so they are treated with even more respect. Our discussion thus turned in a natural way to the topic of the rod of the creator shard they have in the monastery. My mentor will inquire if I may visit it - they are afraid of theft as many pieces held by various monasteries have been stolen and are still missing.

Matins

I am settling in. I have been housed in a very comfortable wooden cabin, with all amenities I could wish for. It has a deck with a magnificent view over the mountains, towards the lake that sometimes can be seen in the distance. The view lends itself to sitting down and meditating. I realize this cabin is a privileged lodge for pilgrims, and even though I marvel at the view a regular cell would have suited me just as well.

The day starts with matins. The monks gather at the temple and chant in front of their idols and relics. One of the monks, a man with the build of a tall wardrobe, beats a drum. The rhythm is rather fast, two beats per second. The others chant one syllable per drumbeat. From time to time - I haven't been able to discern a pattern- another monk strikes a cymbal. I been given a hand missal, but it is a translation so I cannot chant along, just listen. In addition, I am not sure it would be proper for me to do so. There are villagers and visitors attending the morning chanting - I have not seen many during the other hours.

After this morning liturgy, we have breakfast porridge. It is the only meal of the day that is not taken in the refectory, but in the public hall of the temple. Each monk sits at a table with one villager family or visitor group and they eat the breakfast porridge together. This is the occasion for the visitors to talk to the monks, to tell them their stories and plights and to ask for prayers.

Achur that have problems with their eyes visit this particular monastery, many come from far away to place offerings and pray in front of the statuettes of the eye idol. The monks give them a flask with which they can scoop up water from the temple source, as this water is said to have healing powers for eyesight troubles.  

I take breakfast with my mentor, master Drellken. We talk about our faiths and rites. I haven't yet brought up my main question - my request to see the piece of the rod of the creator that they keep in the inner temple.

The stairway of a thousand steps

I slept like a log last night, tired, but in a good way. So, I shall finish yesterday's story. 

I arrived at the stone lantern in the late afternoon. A monk was there, I do not know if he was waiting for me or if they saw me coming and had sent him down. Their clothing is simpler than our robes, and I did not see any signs of body augmentations. Next to the lantern was the start of a stone stairway that led up into the forest on the mountain slope.

My monastic colleague told me that this is the staircase of the thousand steps, and it is the entrance to the Monastery of the Seeing Blind at the top of the mountain. My courage sank at the prospect of having to climb it. I was starting to feel the exhaustion of the walk in the heat. But he insisted this was the proper way to go the monastery. 

He had some duties still at the lantern, but would come up later and rejoin me. I started the climb. To my surprise, the stairs were not well maintained, there are stretches were the stones are broken up and scattered, and this makes the ascension difficult. I wondered if the monastery would ever get visitors. There were also snakes in the cracks between the stones, so I had to tread carefully, which hampered the climb. I had to stop several times, to catch my breath and drink the last sips of my water. 

There's this compulsive thing I do - counting the steps of stairs. In this case, thousand. It's hard to stay focused, but usually I am within a few steps of the actual correct number. Here, I counted two thousand two hundred and fifty five. "Thousand steps", a figure of speech, indeed. Dusk was falling but the heat was sweltering by now. There was no breeze and the air was humid, despite being in the mountains.

After great effort, I arrived at the top of the staircase, at the entrance to the monastery. There was a water well nearby, and several peasants and monks. Also the monk I had met at the bottom was there. I hadn't seen anyone else on the staircase, and he never passed me, so I asked him how he got there. 

He said he just took his ground transportation vehicle along the road a little bit farther from where the stairs started, it leads to the parking lot of the monastery. I was dumbfounded - "But, wasn't this the proper way to enter the monastery? You told me so yourself!". He answered, as if he was talking to a kid, as if it had been plain and obvious: "Yes, proper way for you. Not for me, I live here."

I was parched so I wanted to drink from the well, which was equipped with a row of cups on a long stick. But I was not allowed to drink yet: the well is meant for ablution, you scoop up water and rinse your hands and arms. Actually, the cold water flowing over my arms gave relief from the heat.

After that, I was given water to drink and brought to my lodgings, where, as you already know, I fell asleep shortly after.

Reaching the monastery

It has been a long day, but I have reached the monastery. I've been welcomed by my mentor and shown my lodgings. I am tired, and feel I will fall asleep soon, but I want to record my day.

Early in the morning, I left Nizunpaska. There is and old railroad for plasma maglev trains that circles the lake. It is a bit of a tourist attraction, and there is a museum of plasma maglev technology at the starting station, where one can marvel at the old engines. 

image credit: Christian Chihaia

The track goes along the shore of the lake, offering nice views. I took the northern route to one of the many valleys where a mountain river meets the lake. The station where I stepped off the train was not much more than a platform - and it was deserted. As I stepped off, I felt the day was already starting to get hot. 

I started my walk following the river up the valley. There is some farming, mostly hydro-culture grain fields. I only saw one farmer, knee-deep in the water between his crop. He looked up and stared at me, I think he had never seen an Amarrian before.

The valley is rather wide at the start, and flat at the bottom where the river meanders. After two hours of walking, I came across a hill, in the middle of the flat valley. It was maybe thirty meters high, and looked very much out of place. There was a shrine at the top, and despite the heat I climbed up to the shrine. It was deserted, but there were nice statues of old gods and there were relics scribbled all over with undecipherable writing. It looked well maintained, even if there was no-one there at the time. I rested a while, praying and taking in the quietness of the place.

I continued my walk up the valley. It narrowed down and became more woody. My mentor for the exchange had told me to walk all the way up, past the foothills, until I arrived at a large stone lantern at the base of a mountain. 

Ah, I am falling asleep as I write, I will continue tomorrow once I'm rested.

The lake city

Today I took the "fast" land transit to Nizunpaska, the city by the lake. I put fast in quotation marks since it took most of the day to get there, crossing a large and desolate mountain range. Nizunpaska (its Napanii name as indicated in the stations is not the local name) is not a large city by any planetary standards. 

While its core districts are still markedly Caldari in the way we know it from Jita, the old lakeside part has a different feel to it. It is more relaxed and less efficiency-focused. The remoteness of the city with respect to major metropolitan areas also shows itself in the demographics: there are markedly less Deteis and Civire here than in the main hub I was yesterday.

The city is located at the eastern tip of the lake, so the sun sets over the lake. Right in front of the city, there is a small islet in the lake, deemed a holy place by the inhabitants. In the evening, they gather at the lakefront to watch the sunset. Even though it was a bit cloudy, I took a picture to remember this place.

After sunset I went for dinner, and had a simple meal, the local soup. It is a fish stock with fermented soybean, to which they add small clams from the lake and local vegetables. I was explained that there is quite an art to serving the soup, as the serving (in a bowl) must balance greens and non-greens in the soup, as well as balance floating elements (a kind of fungus) and parts that sink to the bottom of the bowl. Also the clams must have opened in exactly the right way. I hope I did justice to the dish...

Arrival on Achura

I traveled to Achura today, third planet in the Saisio system. Eager to start this adventure, and wondering about my counterpart heading to Mehatoor. For sure, he will have a more easy travel - he can just dock up and walk to the library, where mr. Jensen awaits him. 

Me, I have to travel to a mountain monastery, in a more remote part of the planet. Today, I stay in the large metropolis where my shuttle made planetfall, and where border officials checked my paperwork. I got a free Sukuuvestaa Mass Transit pass, allowing me to travel around for the duration of my stay.

The city is immense, but it and reminds me more of Jita than of Dam Torsad. Things are geared towards efficiency and industry, and there is less emphasis on historical relevance and of religion. The Sukuuvestaa corporation and its subsidiaries appears to be present everywhere. There are billboards and advertisements everywhere, and they try to personalize them to those who walk by. Mass transit is very well organised. I had difficulties orienting myself, but a mass transit employee went above and beyond in his efforts to show me exactly where to go.

I will rest up at a hostel for pilgrims. Tomorrow I will take the fast rail system to the city closest to the monastery. The town's name can be loosely translated as "water city". It is located at the top of a large inland lake, right at the mouth of the main river that feeds the lake. This will require me to take a long trip over land, over a mountainous range.

New recruits

Only a few days left before I leave for Saisio III. I am curious what I will find there. I am also thinking of my counterpart, who must be preparing now for the trip just as I do.

In the last couple of days I met several new recruits, the alliance appears to be growing at an accelerating pace. It seems to me that almost every time I enter Gottin's lamp bar for a coffee, there is an interview going on. One of the new recruits, Zohra Ismayil, spent time in a monastery before joining, and I felt a kinship even though she is very young. She is interested in exploration and books, so there's common ground. 

Another new recruit appears to be a former member of the order of St. Tetrimon. They have grown in importance. The recent troubles with Equilibrium of Mankind infiltrators -as highly placed as Alar Chakaid in the Theology council- have started inquisitions and purges to remove heretics from positions of power in the Empire. The Tetrimon, who from the very start suspected and apprehended Alar Chakaid, have proven themselves useful in the purification of our ranks, and I expect their power to increase further.

The Tetrimon also hold old manuscripts and old parts of Scripture, which are no longer the official canon but which may hold clues to the fate of the Avetat and Ametat. When I get back, I must find our Tetrimon corp member and talk to him.

Ishta's manumission part 2

It was a beautiful ceremony, in the SFRIM chapel. So many people were gathered, all supporting Ishta and being happy about her bright future. 

Lord Pitoojee delivered a magnificent speech, a mix of rejoicing and warning. Indeed, life as a free person comes with responsabilities and duties that you have to set yourself. No longer are you told what to do, you have to figure out all that yourself...

Ishta's family was also there. I met young Arne, Ishta's half brother if I'm correct. He is interested in the ministry, and feels the calling. He is still young, so his calling will meet tests of faith, but I plan to support him. I'll give him a little job in the library. He can prepare himself for the seminary and study scripture in the quiet hours.

There was a nice surprise at the end of the ceremony, one that further propels Ishta towards her future. So many developments are happening all at once...

Ishta's manumission

Later today, Ishta's manumission ceremony will take place. I am quite curious to see how it will go. I confess that I don't quite remember from my theology studies how these ceremonies work... back in the days it was just some sort of footnote.

You see, when I was young, it was a time when not many slaves were set free. Manumissions were rare, and I can't remember ever attending any. This was in Heideran's days, but it was well before the Pax Amarria. That was published while I was secluded in the monastery. The same goes for empress Jamyl's decrees, these occurred while I was not in touch with worldly affairs.

I came back to a changed Empire. Yet I think it is a change for the better. Manumissions show to those that are still enslaved that there is hope and a real goal to work towards. Praise be to exemplary holders such as lord Pitoojee who guided Ishta from a very dark place towards the light.

Rens incident

A few days ago, I was transiting in Rens, in Heimatar. The warp core of the Indigatrix was giving me warning messages, so I docked up for quick repairs. You don't want a warp core malfunction in between gates. I was waiting in a small bakery shop, with a coffee and a book, while the repairs took place.

In the Republic, it is not uncommon for us, Amarrians, to get yelled at and insulted. Never accept coffee that you did not see being brewed in front of your own eyes, unless you like the taste of spit. Now especially the tempers run high, as Minmatar pilots are all riled up by these foolish reenactments of battles against Amarr for Republic "liberation day" celebration. Like every year it ends up being a celebration of violence.

As I was waiting, a man came up to me menacingly. Judging by his clothes and demeanor, he was military. Pale skin, dark hair, rather tall. He had a Sebiestor face, with scars on his face but no visible tattoos. Maybe he didn't take the Voluval, maybe he was born in Empire space. He somehow knew I was in LUMEN, because he addressed me as "Lumen". He yelled it as he came towards me and looked quite disturbed. 

At that point I was trying to remember when I had last made a clone backup.

He did not draw a knife or gun, though. He just shouted at me, confusing language. About how I should tell Tamiroth that Howdahri was attacked and killed. Now, I know Tamiroth as the fourth planet of the Amarr home system. And I have no idea how I have to pass on a message to a planet. I concluded he had mental problems, and frankly, at the moment, I was too stunned to respond.

He added an accusation about the murderess of this Howdahri. I will not repeat it here as I do not want slander another member of LUMEN. The man turned and left before I could respond.

As I said, I thought these were the ramblings of a madman. So while I was a bit shocked I gave it no further thought.

That is, until I found out that Tamiroth is not only a planet, but also the name of one of our SFRIM members, apparently on leave now.

Preparations

I have started with the preparations of my visit to Achura. The advice, kindness and help of many Achur in our alliance has been invaluable - I am especially thankful to Franco, Aria, and Therese.

I plan to leave as soon as I can, but certainly not before Ishta's manumission ceremony on the 11th. Lord Pitoojee has deemed she is ready to be freed. Although she is still a bit a diamond in the rough I would humbly say I agree with his lordship's evaluation. 

Great changes are coming for her, and they come all at the same time. She also got her capsuleer licence, and will be acceding to the illustrious house deSilvestris. I hope she can cope with all these momentous changes in her life. My impression is that she starts with a lot of energy and idealism in her new life, with plans to make the Empire (or at least Nakri, the deSilvestris homeworld) a better place. I hope the cynicism of veteran nobles will not dissuade her.

The go-ahead

I met with Lunarisse and Franco today. Not in the context of their freshly minted marriage, but to ask their support and help for my plan to visit Achura (Franco's home world). 

I received permission from Lunarisse, as Directrix, for this exchange.

Franco gave me advice, supplementing the advice I also got from Aria and Therese. He would also look into the monastery that I chose, and see if he can find more information on it - maybe it is linked to the monastery close to where he lived! If that is the case, he was willing to recommend me, and that would certainly help me get a glimpse of the relic of the 'Rod of the Creator'.

So, I will go forward! And in a few days, enroll in the exchange. I am a bit anxious but mostly curious to what I will find there.

Beach barbeque

I was able to talk to Aria about the exchange with Achura. Lunarisse was also around, but the setting was not ideal. She had just returned with Franco from honeymoon. SFRIM had organised a beach BBQ in an picturesque atol with solitonic resonances leading to large waves. She was attempting to surf them. This is apparently a tradition after concluding wars.

It is unclear why this relaxation must envolve exposure to ionising solar radiation and corrosive fluids, but all seemed to enjoy the sun and sea. Aria shares with me a certain discomfort with such relaxation, or at least that is how it appeared to me. 

She reassured me that there will be no security concern to let an Achura monk take my place for a short while. But Aria also explained to me that Caldari society will not tolerate proselytizing. The silver tongued poison of Federation propaganda has made them wary of any foreign influence. So, while I am visiting, I should definitely lay low and keep my own rituals and practices very private. I will heed these wise warnings.

Monastery of the Seeing Blind

I looked more closely at the ACRE program, and found that I can apply to one of the monasteries that has a piece of the Rod of the Creator relic. 

The possibility that caught my eye is the "Monastery of the Seeing Blind". I would be able to visit them for about two weeks, staying in the monastery and learning about their rites and the relic. In exchange, a monk from their ranks would take my place in the library. It would be a capsuleer monk, trading places with me, a capsuleer friar. 

I haven't seen Aria around when I was in the library, but I hope to see her or Lunarisse tomorrow, for her approval of the exchange, or maybe a suggestion for a better exchange partner.

Collapse of the Takmahl empire

Yesterday I have been mulling over the question posed by dr. Valate: could the Takmahl have found Abyssal space? I concluded that they would not have done so while settling in Araz, nor do I think it is plausible that they did in the golden age of their civilization.

That of course leaves out the period of the late Takmahl empire. The downfall of their civilization was as meteoric as its rise to prominence was. The reasons for their quick demise are unknown. From an advanced civilization, in the timespan of merely a century, they collapsed to a pre-industrial state of barbarism.

Indeed, when scouts and explorers first reached the region, they found a backward stone age cannibalistic people that did not remember any of their former technology. The population had dwindled to a few semi-nomadic settlements in a decaying urban wilderness they no longer understood. The tools and edifices of their ancestors, the Takmahl, were venerated as relics left by ancient gods. Only the rites of the blood remained in practice, true to their long-lost Sabik origins.

What apocalypse befell the Takmahl? 

The standard theory followed in Hedion and other universities in the Empire is that at some point, the falsehood of their Sabik religion caught up with them. The depravities got worse and worse and collapsed their society, perhaps aided by the abuse of cyborgs in their cults. 

Another popular theory is ecosystem collapse. Most worlds in Araz are barren, and they relied on hydroculture in the ocean worlds in the constellation. Concurrent asteroid storms, inferred from cratering studies, appeared to have struck these worlds around the same time as the decline of their Empire.

Here now we may have a third theory. It is a variant of the theory formulated before by Valate once before in the context of Drifters, at the fourth SeyCon conference. That theory states that the Takmahl encountered a civilization much more advanced than they are, and perhaps unwittingly started a war with them. The new version of this theory would then involve Abyssal space. Maybe at some point they were able to reverse engineer the spatial rifts at the Labyrinth site enough to tinker with them and reached Abyssal space (or wormhole space). If they started looting it, who knows what they might have triggered. A reprisal by the Drifters? Or maybe the Triglavian's ancestors?

Takmahl in Abyssal space

Today I came across an interesting article by prof. Valate, a prominent Takmahl scholar whose works I track. Quite provocatively, she asks:

"was [it] possible that the Takmahl were able to create portals to abyssal realms, and made contact with someone or something there, not necessarily the Triglavians, during the time the Takmahl were active, some 1500-2000 years ago [?]"

Previous works (among which also those of Valate herself) assume a link between the Takmahl and the Talocan. The Sabik who fled Amarr at the height of Queron I's persecutions had technology no more advanced than cryoships. In a short timespan after they settled in the Araz constellation, they developed advanced cybernetics and ship fittings that still today we marvel about. Takmahl artefacts and materials are used to this day to produce advanced ship modules. 

So how could they so quickly go from refuguees to an interstellar empire? The consensus is that they stumbled upon Talocan technology left in Araz. The influences of Talocan technology on their society is visible through the artefacts and relics that are found in the ruins of their cities and space installations. It has always been implicitly assumed that they found this Talocan technology in deepspace pockets in Aphi and the other systems of the pentagram constellation.

I wonder about the track that is being explored - so far as I know without proof. Is dr. Valate suggesting that the Takmahl actually met the Talocan or their descendants in Abyssal space? It seems doubtful that in the initial stages, when they settled down, they would know about Abyssal space, let alone have the technology to go there. Filaments as we know them require more advanced ships than what they had.

Maybe the question is whether during the golden age of their Empire they would have found a way to go to Abyssal space. As ms. Jenneth suggests, traces of Isogen-10 would reveal this - but as far as I know there have been no such traces. Also, if they would have an influx of new knowledge and the ability to exploit Abyssal space, I would think this would give them a second boost, a second rapid expansion if not in territory then in technology. Again to the best of my knowledge there is no trace of that second spurt.

The Rod of the Creator

The Achura are a deeply spiritual people, which I find a bit at odds with the rest of the Caldari State. The Achura homeworld, Saisio III, is also the home of many relics. 

Those who believe that some long-lost civilization colonized our cluster through the Eve Gate often point to Saisio III as an important planet for that lost civilization. In their minds, the relics of the Ancient Gods are nothing but leftover technology from a thriving world before the Dark Ages.

There is one particular relic that interests me a lot - the Rod of the Creator. It is not one piece, rather it consists of different relics scattered over several monasteries. Some of these pieces have been stolen, some even hunted down and returned by loyal Caldari capsuleers. I've been fascinated by this relic, and in my mind I have come to link it to the Ametat, the Sceptre.

Now that my road forward with the Takmahl corpse is blocked, as I can't legally obtain a clone from someone else's DNA, this is the next route of investigation that I will pursue. Layla Accadis' corpse has been waiting for a thousand years, she can wait a bit more.

Could it be that the Sceptre, through some winding and mysterious path, at some point made it to Achura? They barely left the iron age a few centuries ago, so they would not have known its significance but surely they would have felt its power. How did it become fractured? Do the Achura have myths or tales of how it got there? I want to find out.

The monasteries on Achura are not readily accessible to visitors, at least not the interesting ones. But I have a plan.

To strengthen the ties between the Empire and the State, especially since the fall of Niarja, there are several cooperation and exchange programs. ACRE is one of these programmes, the "Amarr - Caldari Religious Exchange". The idea is that monks (friars are also eligible) from the Empire and the State trade places for a while. I would spend time in an Achura monastery, and an Achur monk would come to Mehatoor. 

I'll have to discuss this with Directrix Phonaga (yes, she took Franco's name). She'd be reluctant to let strangers into the SFRIM offices in Mehatoor, I think. So, maybe I'll first get Aria on my side. She is also from Achura, and linked to the monastic tradition. I have time, I suppose Lunarisse is now enjoying her honeymoon.

A wedding and a victory

They say misfortunes never come alone, but apparently that is also true of good things.

The wedding yesterday was magnificent. The Farthest Star chapel, usually a quiet place, was filled to the brim. Many Gallenteans came, to my surprise. The Gate seemed particularly active, throwing its whisps of light as if it was celebrating with us. 

The ceremony too was beautiful, the sedevacantist protesters from my nightmares were absent. There was only an interruption by Amadin, who mock objected like a jealous fool. The bride and the groom looked fantastic! There was a reception afterwards, but I may have dozed off a little. Maybe it was the release of the tension that I had felt officiating this wedding that made me sleepy afterwards.

Today, more good news arrived, probably the best wedding gift of all that were given. 

Our war with the Kybernauts comes to an end! God has given us victory! The fall of the Wirashoda Azbel was indeed the turning point, our victories multiplied afterwards. Their resistance crumbled before the onslaught of the unlikely alliance between LUMEN, Electus Matari and PNS. In their hasty retreat, the Kybernauts abandoned or burned down their own last fortresses. None remain, after yesterday's final mopping up operation.

Alas this was but a stage in a much longer war. For the Kybernauts are but the henchmen of their Triglavian overlords. The Triglavians are still strong, even if their servants have been defeated. With all their talk of proving, it stands to reason the Triglavians will not like failure. So, while some Kybernauts now try to seek refuge in the arms of their masters, hoping punishment will not be too harsh, others have chosen to run away and turn to piracy. 

Let us be gracious in our victory, and try to guide these wayward capsuleers back into the fold.

Preparations

I must admit I am somewhat nervous. I officiated weddings before, but never anything so high-profile.

Luna and Franco are getting married, and I have been given the honor of officiating their wedding. This is not merely a wedding, and not merely a capsuleer wedding! No, it is the wedding of our directrix! The wedding of someone I hold in high esteem and like to call my friend.

Everything is prepared, I went over the liturgy and ceremony with the couple. Scriptures are chosen, music is set, traditions picked among the many in the cluster.

And yet I had a nightmare that, as I was asking if anyone objects, a sedevacantist would stand up and start slandering the marriage as the groom is not of the faith - Franco hasn't converted yet. Franco has selected a paranymph - a member of the faith who will vouch for his character and ensure the children are raised in the faith. So there is no religious obstacle whatsoever to this wedding. But still, undercover agents under the influence of Nauplius would no doubt use the occasion to make a ruckus. And I know Aria would quickly take care of any heretic objecting, immediately helped by Ishta. But still.

Welcome mr. Jensen

Mr. Jensen arrived and took up his job as assistant librarian. He immediately made sure we acquire copies of the works of the laureates of the New Eden Literature contest. He is also applying the formalism that he invented, the Jensen index, to our book catalogue. Who would have known that octonion number geometry would be so convenient in library science?

I am glad to hear that mr. Jensen is adapting well as assistant librarian. Some of our customers have a hard time dealing with the disability that makes his slow in comparison to our neurological clocks, so I might consider hiring an additional "Overseer of the Shelves" - the rank just below assistant librarian to help mr. Jensen interacting with our customers.

There was today also an interesting question on the forums by prof. Valate. She wonders if the Takmahl may have knowledge of the Triglavian conduit portals. Probably the Triglavians were around in abyssal space then, but did they ever get contact with the Takmahl? This suggestions appears to me as thunder in a clear sky. I have not seen anything indicating it, but I am intrigued...

Naming ceremony

Yesterday there was a callsign naming ceremony in SFRIM. I think the idea is that a slight humiliation keeps capsuleers grounded, or humble. We had to tell embarrassing stories or failures, and then others would pound on it suggesting silly names. 

With drinks flowing profusely, I knew I had to be fast before the whole thing would degenerate. So, I volunteered first, and told the story of how my Abott called me Dozey, a play on the middle syllable  of my name, Theo-doze-eus. 

It appears that during sermons I meditate so deeply that other misconstrue this and think I doze off. The light humming I sometimes make, prayer during meditation, is also often misunderstood as snoring. Dozey will thus both remain and become my callsign during fleet operations.

I was right to go early in the evening. Some people who fell asleep got pounced on by their fellows and now will be known as Zonk. There's an Onion. There almost was a Fluffy. 

I think now of the joint fleet operations with Electus Matari and Phoenix Naval Systems, against the Triglavians. The proud Amarr fleet that joins our erstwhile enemies in a fight against a common threat. And insists to be called flitter, zonk, onion, ipsy and snoopy.

Stuck

I seem to be somewhat stuck. I finally obtained permission to examine the corpse of Layla Accadis and experiment on it, but I cannot get a clone. At wit's end I talked to a man of the Serpentis pirate faction. I was brought into contact with him by a low-level cryogenics engineer from Lai Dai who works at a clone facility.

I was hesitant. The man, Elaziel Sols, only wanted to meet me at some shady bar. I stood out like a sore thumb in that place. Mr. Sols had no difficulty identifying me. I explained my case, and he told me he can provide exactly what I want: a genetically identical body, without consciousness. I don't trust him. I think I want to talk to lord Garion about this first, he has been my moral lodestone.

In other news, I have decided what to do with my prize money. To keep it related to books, I have set up a skillbook fund. Up till the exhaustion of the fund, I will grant anyone from LUMEN who asks money for a skillbook the ISK to do so (up to a maximum amount of 65 million per applicant). That way, I can adhere to my vow of poverty and help our friends at the same time.

Conflicting emotions

Yesterday evening was the gala for the literature prizes. Even though such social events with famous people and parties and receptions are definitely not my biotope, I had planned to attend this event since it focuses on books. It warms my librarian heart to see writing celebrated, and I was amazed at the quality of the submitted works, and at creativity and wit of their writers.

But given the events of the past days I could not bring myself to partake in the festivities. Moreover, I had promised some families of our fallen soldiers to visit them. I cannot cut such visits short to go indulge myself. No matter how strongly I support this initiative, I couldn't make myself go.

I was happy to learn that my modest scribblings have earned me a prize! I am grateful to my promotor, lord Garion Avarr. Now I feel that I did the jury a grave disservice by not attending. Conflicting emotions, joy and vanity and a bit of guilt. 

I think there will be a monetary reward, and I have to think what to do with it. I fully intend to keep my vow of poverty, and at this moment I do not need more money to pursue my quest. I will reflect on how to put this to good use.

Bringing our fallen soldiers home

Even with all the learning, all the clerical training, even with my ordination to perform rites, I was not prepared for this. Not prepared for its weight, nor for its impact on me.

One of the Kybernauts reached out to us, with an offer to retrieve our dead. Our Directrix contacted me to help. I agreed to meet this compassionate Kyber in Hek, in Republic space close to the faction warfare zone. We easily demonize our enemies during war, but I was reminded by this action that Kybernauts can be honorable persons, who just like us worry about their families and honor the dead.

I was given access to a hangar where the Kyber had stored the remains of our fallen. The hangar had been purged of its toxic atmosphere and disinfected from mutaplasmids. My contact appeared only via holodrone. 

All the caskets and urns were there. I was shocked at the sheer amount of them. Thousands. I was overcome for a little while, and the Kybernaut let me pray in peace as I reached out to God for strength.

I barely could fit all of them in my cargo hold, I had to strip some stuff and leave probes and other material behind in Hek. Faced with this problem, to my own surprise I had switched from a state of disarray to a mechanical state of duty to be performed. I had turned into a kind of numb robot. I remember thinking about the optimal stacking problem in my cargo hold as if it was some abstract mathematical question.

I managed to fit all of them in my hold, and brought the most precious cargo I have ever transported back to Mehatoor, and from there it went forward to Nahyeen, to the memorial garden.

My "numb robot" state passed when the memorial ceremony began. It was as if, when I saw that I had completed my task, I could finally once again go back to experiencing feelings. They came over me as a shock wave. A wave of row upon row of flag draped caskets and urns. I said a few words during the ceremony, I cannot even remember what I said clearly now, I let my training and clerical instinct take over.

As I cannot fall asleep, I pray. I pray for strength. I pray for the fallen that journeyed home with me. And I pray that I may never get used to such missions.

The eerie quiet

Yesterday I flew to Bashyam in the Duchy of Fekhoya, hoping to meet the new candidates for conversion and to bring them into the fold. 

The trip was horrendous.

I got stopped three times by Royal Khanid Navy, and my shuttle got searched by the Chesm Khan. The first time, I was told that due to the recent operations, I could not land on Bashyam and certainly not at the Deritan estate. The only reason that in the end I could proceed on my way, was that I am a capsuleer and this grants special privileges. 

The second time, I started by using this prerogative, and could continue. The third time, they insisted on searching my ship first for contraband and weaponry to deliver to what they call "One Crown Unificationists". Of course they did not find anything, but they confiscated a vial of holy ointment I was planning to use, they took it for drug testing!

I finally was allowed to land at the estate, and what a difference it was with a week ago! No more trace of festivities. The estate looked rather abandoned as I was waiting in the courtyard. No friendly slave coming to bid me welcome and let me wait inside. Some furtive glances from inside the estate, but no-one came out. It was strangely quiet. I did not see the Duchess or any of her retinue coming or going, and waited for two hours. 

This worries me, has she been arrested? At least, there were no traces of violence or battle at the estate, not insofar my untrained eyes can see. I did notice that the Khanid stone garden seemed a bit neglected or ruffled, but that could be from last week's party - I cannot tell. 

I should have checked my appointment in advance, and waited for confirmation. It has been a week since the Duchess had asked me to come by, and many things happened since then. I could not contact anyone on the spot. I hope she was simply held up somewhere else...