needshumility | 1.1.01.01.73: forbidden numbers.

As Victor has duly informed you all, he graduated. Not without considerable effort or thought on his part.

He has spoken for more than I ever could.

I am, however, about to go home. I cannot, truly, stay. I fear I would lose sight of what I have to do, of what I must do. There is a significant part of me which hates to surrender the freedoms I have gained here, but it would be selfish of me to keep those freedoms to myself. There is a whole society which has none of them - and I have to help bring them about.

Which can only bring me to my final note to you all - never take any freedom you have for granted. Never assume it will always be there. Even the inmates amongst you, who I know have less freedom than myself here. Remember, there is a freedom to love, there is a freedom of knowledge, there is a freedom to ask questions, a freedom to know there are questions that need asking, a freedom to tell someone to fuck right off if you want, and a freedom to take your tie off. It's hard to put freedoms down once you know they exist. Often you only notice how few you have when you see how others live.

Sacrifices for the good of the collective.

[Private to Chromie]

I'll leave you all my questionnaires and notes.

[Private to Jane]

I'm going to leave you with my swatch, and instructions. As well as the notes my father left me. You may want to tell a doctor, so they can ensure nothing goes wrong, or if you're unconscious, but I'll leave that choice to you.

Everything else... I'd like to say to you in person.

[Private to George]

Make sure Jane's alright when I'm gone. I'm sorry in advance if she punches you in the nose.

[Warden filter]

Although I'm leaving, my board will be exactly where I left it. Someone else might want to watch for offensive messages on it, though.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Thank you.

Keep an eye on Jane. Make sure someone doesn't get punched by Jane.

I will. And on the latter count, I will certainly do my level best.

Fair warning: I may be paying you a visit. Discreetly, of course. Just to see how you're getting on.

...Actually, Una, as much as I would really like a visit - can you not?

I think... one of the Previous arriving in our world for any reason might cause it to implode, rather than anything else. And there's no way you can hide that you're Previous.

People in my line of work are surprisingly adaptable ... but that being said, I understand. If I can find some way to observe from afar as it were, I may, but no more than that.

That being said...

You could easily be Apocryphal.

Couldn't leave without springing one last new term on me, could you?

What's that, then?

What we term things that exist... but shouldn't exist. We have to ignore their existance entirely.

We had an Apocryphal Man as a lodger. None of us ever knew why food kept disappearing. Must have been mice.

I finally did talk to him, though.

Don't take this the wrong way, but I think my inmate would find that incredibly impressive.

What was he like, this Apocryphal Man?

The Colourman? No, I imagine he would. I read that book, by the way.

He was a historian, he said. Answered questions for loganberry jam. He seemed very lonely.

What did you make of it?

I imagine he must have been quite lonely, after years of being more or less nonexistent. Was his colour perception like yours? Or like the Previous?

...It all seemed very familiar, to be honest. I felt awful for Winston. And I worry a little that the only reason I got around the Colourman was because he let me but... anyway.

You know, I never asked. I presume ours, somehow, but I don't know.

And the price of true freedom was having nobody know you existed. I'm not sure I'd have paid that.

I thought you might. It's a profoundly bleak work, although I have always felt that there is coded optimism in the fact that the epilogue on Newspeak is written in conventional English, and in the past tense.

True freedom always comes at a profound price.

That being said, I suppose the Apocrypha may be as good a disguise as any for a roaming chrononaut. Should it come to pass, I shan't make waves; that's your job. Yours and Jane's.

I... never thought about it like that. I presumed it was just the author filling us in. Although Newspeak reminded me of... obsolete words. And things like youknow instead of... well, you know.

Not just ours. She knows other people too. It'll... Maybe our Apocryphal Man was nothing but a friend of yours.

It is that, but I believe it's specifically intended to be from the perspective of someone within that world, much later than the main events of the novel.

He might be someone I know, it's true. Time is funny that way.

If I don't see you—or if I do and you don't remember me—good luck. I think you'll be fine.

Was that before, or after you had your inmate, that you believed that?

Thank you. The same to you. I still don't know if Colourmen can be reformed, but if anyone can do it...

Oh, before. I'd read a fair bit of Orwell before I even came here.

I do appreciate your faith in me. I hope it won't be proven wrong.

Has he written other things? I... didn't look.

It won't be.

If you get a chance before you go, look for Animal Farm. Or take in an essay or two. It'll be worth it.

Would it be wrong of me to steal all these books?

I won't tell. Replacements will probably be provided, anyway.

...I might just get a box.

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