1.10.08

Not TRG Central


The librarian from a repository in the Thousand Ruby Galaxy sends a memo through the ether. Her names translates as Samsara or suchlike and she (I don't know if she's really a she but I call her that because she's definitely not what I am) is from a small planet orbiting one of the suns in an outer arm of the galaxy and says there are gaps in their collection and perhaps I could help? She's apologetic - it's really a bureaucratic issue, the Grand Repository near TRG Central doesn't always keep them up to date and she thought she might be able to go straight to a human source. As it were. They are missing some of the dreams that Alexander had before he set out for Bactria ... I'm flattered but I do wonder why she chose me. Oh, she replies, it's your last post, we picked that up quick smart and thought you might be just what we need. Now I'm impressed. I knew I had a scatter of readers over at Andromeda, but in the TRG? That's big ... before I can really enjoy the contemplation of my trans-galactic notoriety she's back - these aliens are fast - with a list of other lacunae in their archives. My mind tips as I begin to scan: they're missing some names from the full list of the gods of the Dogon; they don't have all the letters that passed between Shakespeare and his Dark Lady; they lack documents concerning Sha Na Na and the Invention of the Fifties; they want to know what really happened at the Eureka Stockade. I say, hmmm, I say, yes, well, I say ... I say ... like my parents used to when they were about to say something. I don't really have a clue about any of this but figure it might be interesting to make something up. After all, insofar as Samsara and the rest of them over there are concerned, wouldn't a false memory be just as good as a true one? How would they know the difference? Quicker than thought she's back on my desktop, that strange symbol that I've never seen before and can't reproduce because each time I try to copy it the computer crashes. Oh, we know, she says. Our system fails each time we try to enter a lie. So don't even think about it. I think about it. Oh, I think. Oh.

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