.SH
MEME MAGIC DOESN'T WORK
.R

.PP
.ps 10
There was no time like the present to investigate wrongdoings of the
past.  Thomas' vantage point was safe from observation by the observed.
These notions, false as they might be, comforted him as he
reminisced about all the bad things he had done so far in his young life.
At least those days were over.  He realized that the only one holding on to
this peculiar point of view was himself.
.PP
.ps 10
He let it go.
.PP
.ps 10
Here was the relief he had sought, so easily accessible from his
current frame of mind.  He could simply forget what he had done.
.PP
.ps 10
No, really, he could
.I
forget.
.R
Thomas' gifts of memory had
degenerated to the point where he could scarcely remember his own
name.  This predicament offered its advantages.

.PP
.ps 10
Each day was an entirely new world.  Thomas would wake up every
morning, amazed by his own ingenuity, as the new world constructed itself around him with a
complete history already intact\(emthere was nothing for him to
consider, nothing for him to add.  And nobody actually had to live
through it all because they had already done so, in the alleged past
he could no longer remember.
.PP
.ps 10
Every morning.
.PP
.ps 10
Building up the past in this manner was as easy as pulling on his trousers and
imagining what it must have been like to be himself during some other,
arbitrary circumstances.  Namely, the continuity leading up to
today.  It had all come from his imagination anyway, right?
.PP
.ps 10
Now, where was he?
.PP
.ps 10
A caption appeared beneath him:
.PP
.ps 10
.I
One day at a time.
.R
.PP
.ps 10
And next to the caption, a blinking sigil.
.PP
.ps 10
What did it signify?

.PP
.ps 10
Thomas had decided to kill Plinth Mold.
.PP
.ps 10
These past few years had proven that Mold was out of touch.  With the
times; with the styles; with everything, really.  Missions that didn't make
sense.  Marketing that was a mess.  Orders issued that flatly
contradicted what the man had just said, only moments before.  He'd
tried following the orders to the letter but he had run smack into the
fact that Plinth Mold really didn't make mistakes.  Therefore, responsibility
for any failure in the field fell squarely upon his own broad
shoulders.
.PP
.ps 10
Strong as he was, that particular conundrum just couldn't stand.
.PP
.ps 10
On the other hand, Plinth Mold didn't make mistakes.  Killing him
would be tricky.  Any move Thomas made would potentially give away his
intentions.  Sometimes Thomas wondered if Mold was telepathic.  The
man seemed to anticipate his every movement, seemed able to read every
thought that entered his mind as if it had been printed across his
forehead like an involuntary ticker tape confession.
.PP
.ps 10
Hmm...
.PP
.ps 10
But what if the thoughts simply stopped entering his mind?

.PP
.ps 10
Piro lit a stick of incense and leaned back in his swivel chair.  Tom
had been acting strangely.  In and of itself this was not unusual\(emTom
was a strange and unusual man\(embut lately he had seemed...
erratic?  Off, somehow.  Piro inhaled, deeply, and was immediately
rewarded with a prolonged fit of coughing.
.PP
.ps 10
He snuffed out the incense.
.PP
.ps 10
Maybe it was nothing.  But ignoring his instincts was contrary to
Piro's practice.  It would be impossible for him to pretend he hadn't
noticed these...  irregularities...  in Tom's behavior.
.PP
.ps 10
Whatever.  Now it was time to go and wake Thomas up.  He would find
some way to broach the topic at breakfast.

.PP
.ps 10
The RAGNAROK's orbit had become irregular.  Subtle perturbations
an uncomfortable part of her routine.  A
downward spiraling malaise she felt unable to escape.
.PP
.ps 10
The source?
.PP
.ps 10
Her son had discovered Earth culture.  For years now she had observed
passively as he absorbed the humans' toxic prolictivities, at times
seeming to actually enjoy this full immersion in their unfathomable
insanity.  This abrogation of detached objectivity was as surprising
as it was shameful.  But what could she say?  She had never broached
the topic with him.  He was fully grown, now, and she did not believe
it was her place to second guess his methods.
.PP
.ps 10
But here she was confronted with a situation that threatened the
success of their mission.  And Earth's future.  Soon, she would find a
way to stage the conversation that would not offend his pride.
.PP
.ps 10
High above the Earth, the RAGNAROK's orbit stabilized.

.PP
.ps 10
Tom concentrated on the triangle, but nothing happened.  It was still
flat.  It was still pink.  He no longer had any idea how long he'd
been sitting there, staring at the shape in his hands.
.PP
.ps 10
His legs had fallen asleep.  So, he'd allowed his body to fail him as
well.  Thomas got up off of the floor and tossed the apparently faulty
sigil into his desk drawer.
.PP
.ps 10
Maybe he'd have better luck next time.
.PP
.ps 10
Caption: \fIOr not.\fR
.R
.PP
.ps 10
There was no use forcing the issue.