Hanin

Well, it’s time to write something. It can’t all be dumbfounded pictures. There’s work to be done. And courage to be found. Regrets to be discarded. And lives to be invented.

“Hanin”. There’s a first pick at the name of our narrator. Perhaps: he is injured before one of the station fights. He’s forced to sit aside with the infants and elders, is able to observe what the old ones remember they must do, what the children are too young to understand. First bug, when does the Cleanse of materials occur during the process of moving through the dance? I think maybe as a clan moves into a Bell, prepared for transport. Aside, one material that could not be confiscated would be the tattooed skin of the people. Do the elders record notes from the coded station battles in the skin of the infants? Such unreasoned pain to inflict upon a child. But perhaps that is a fundamental part of these people. The Bell arrives at a Station: the arriving clan is released into the transitional zone to meet the departing clan. Question: how do the Controls enforce the leaving of the leaving clan. How do they enforce the arrivals and departing not mix and go where they are not specified to go? Implanted chip coding? RFID tracking, and thus enforcement. I envision the Controls are attached to the ceiling much as the computer face in MOON. Perhaps they are also equipped with big people moving manipulators, and if the sorting of the arrivals and the departing does not occur voluntarily, the Controls enforce the design themselves. The RFID is implanted by Bell Controls shortly after birth.

[Other Guy, I wonder if you could create a drawing, crude as the ignorant peoples would create, showing the final visual description of the Dance, with the Bells included “keeping the time of the Dance”. Maybe something to be revealed later as the mystery develops.]  

Where were we? The material goods of a clan are Cleansed upon entering a Bell. The children under 8 are held by the Elders, calm for preparation before the Station Clash, they are tattooed by the elders during the fight. These markings live with them for the rest of their lives to continue the hunt for history’s truth. The Skin Notes would have to be made redundant. Not overly so, but maybe at least two copies. Maybe not. So much synthesis would occur one new Skin Notes are made, and everything could be correlated during the 30 year working hiatus at Jupe, or Mars/Belt, or Earth. Just to formalize what was discussed with the Other Guy, the Other Night 1: we wondered about the need for the mining in the Belt, and the Building it infers upon the plan of the Dance. We pondered a Dyson’s Sphere (not total inclusion) in the orbit of Earth, and the construction of Generation Ships in the orbit of Jupiter. It is a two-pronged grand ambition that maybe fits the rugged stricture of the Dance. Humankind at some point put into motion the loss of individual freedoms and understanding in trade for the dual accomplishments: harnessing the full power of the solar system energy and so progressing to a Type I civilization with the Dyson Sphere; and the dream of expansion and diaspora to other solar systems.  Why just focus on one, if you’re going to threaten the very nature of human nature, of human character, and human soul. It is a trade of the importance of the individual in respect of proven dangerous  human history. Conflict subtracted from the equation. Yet, loop holes allowed to continue the evolution of human culture and collective thought. There by the Dance is imperfect, yet resilient, strong and ultimately powerful. This is a narrative without alien interaction.  The force of the Other is the Cruel Decision that was made.   

Apologies, of course, for the sloppy herkey jerky nature of this writing. Allowances made by invoking the reading room, the study hall, the experimental lab. At some point we’ll have to correlate and make our own notes based on what we type in this blog. Though, we can probably forgo the ink needling of children. For now.

Again, where were we?  Hanin. I admit a leaning toward the name sound of an old, departed friend. A sound made new in a new endeavor. If that doesn’t work, it can change. Hanin is a father of a single daughter. The mother of his daughter already dead due to the mining/industrial accident that found them both. Hanin survived to find himself being prepared to take on the role of an elder, without all the confidence that comes with such practice and age. Is he made to tattoo his own child upon the Bell Ring? That sounds rough. I want to know more from the Other Guy what this physical, dance, violence, rumble code is.

Hanin has individual preferences in life. Sounds obvious, but I have to remind myself, this is how you make a believable character. And I know for god’s sake, GOOD STORIES ARE CHARACTER DRIVEN, NOT PLOT DRIVEN. So, Hanin experiences loss.  Loss of his mate, concern over his daughter.  Hmm, the daughter should have only been born during the route to Keller Station. Did the mother die en route from her injuries? Yet was able to give birth to their daughter before succumbing?  Yes, that tracks. He has the loss of his mate, the sudden change in job/station/tribe placement. And his new daughter. Now, I have to admit a lack of personal experience with having children and the sublime change of priorities it causes. The uncompromised love that blooms instantly upon first seeing the child, hearing its cries, laughter… the sudden understanding of why existence exists at all.  Am I getting that right? I hope so. I doubt it could be over blown. It’s understood to be fundamental to life. Human life.

And with those new notes we close. Not bad. We are moving forward in design and detail.

Thanks to the Other Guy for hanging out the Other Night 1. It helps to ponder these things together without time dilation, while yet dealing with the dazzling spinning saw blade of instant communication.