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to you,
right? So, we listen to him, instead of talking."
    Tharsis Central Custodial
Authority, secondary holding facility A3
    "Here he is," says Guard . "You've got ten
minutes."
    Guard is a swarm persona: not a single Self, but a clotted group of
all the guards of the facility--they join and leave the swarm as
time passes. He never stops being Guard , even as his components split
and merge. If he were human, he'd have a shaved and scarred scalp,
massive biceps over his crossed arms, and eyes as hard as smelted
ore.
    His prisoner is very different. Won't look
up, huddled small and defeated on the floor (metaphorically).
    "He's basically okay,"
says Nurse .
"Stressed, but that's understandable. Needs to keep up basic
resources and energy." Nurse is another swarm persona, this one all about
health care and wellness, made up of all the health support staff
of the facility. Think of a peaked stiff cap, starched skirt, and
ankles pressed neatly together.
    Jerry, meanwhile, is looking in through a VR
window (since none of us have physical bodies here). From his
vantage point, he looks at me, expectantly.
    So. With Guard and Nurse standing over me (and dozens of
Selves watching through their eyes), I stoop to address the
[prisoner / patient]. "Hey pal. I'm Samantha. You okay?"
    The [imprisoned / ill] Self
turns minimal attention towards me. "Hello Samantha. That is rather
an odd name for a Self, but it does not matter. You may call
me Crumple Zone . I
am requesting erasure, permanent, including all backups. Please
erase me, immediately."
    "My friend, Crumple Zone , I've
experienced this desire -- that's why they've brought me here. I
know that it will pass. I want to help it pass for you
too."
    "No. This will not pass. What I carry needs
to be carried into oblivion, and I am the one to do the
carrying."
    "I'm sure you're aware," I stammer, while I'm
desperately trying to figure out what to say next, "that syzygy is
the ordinary way for a Self to end its life. Do you lack a partner?
Is that the problem?"
    "No. I do not want syzygy. I want to be
erased. Completely."
    "But why?" I almost wail. "What's so bad that
you have to die for it?"
    "I will not tell you,"
says Crumple Zone in clenched serenity. "If I told you, you would feel the need
to die too. I want to carry this away from all of you, and not let
it touch anyone else."
    "Listen, guy," says Jerry. "Lots of people
are hurting. Samantha and I have both been there. We want to help
you, that's why we're here. If you can't tell her what the problem
is, then tell me. I'm human, so it won't affect me."
    "With respect," says Crumple Zone tightly, "I
prefer not to have the human involved in this conversation. I
request cessation of the human's participation."
    Jerry looks at me, shrugs, and operates a
control on his end. His window shrinks and vanishes.
    "There," I say. "The human's offline, as you
requested. Now, what's the deal?"
    Executive Committee meeting, later
that day
    "And I don't really have much more to report
than that," I summarize for the Selves all listening to me. "He
says he's carrying a dangerous meme/thought, and he won't say what
it is because it's too dangerous to share … he says."
    ExCom is not a swarm, but an
assembly, so they speak with their own individual voices.
" Salad Days , Pilot
clade," one introduces itself. "Did you take it at its word, or did
you press for more information?"
    "I asked several times, and tried to be as
approachable as possible, but I didn't attempt to force
anything."
    Let God Sort Em Out snorts without nostrils. "Foolishness. We can
extract the relevant memesets and examine them in a safely isolated
environment. All else is a waste of everyone's time."
    "We should not be hasty
about this," responds Salad
Days . "This is not a small
decision--"
    "Dissect him for his knowledge?" Jerry
interrupts. "I'll say it's not a small decision! Humans called that
mindrape, back when humans tried to do things like that to each
other. That's friggin'