Crying Over Spilt Light

by George Saoulidis

  “Why don’t you take a hot shower? I turned on the heater a while ago,” she told him and he agreed.

  He threw his socks over his shoulder and took off his clothes, leaving them in his wake. Yanni had developed a carefree attitude the last couple of weeks. Ourania picked up after him and put them in the laundry. She never complained of course, so gradually the usual male sloppiness had turned into something that any woman would forcibly object to.

  The only thing she never touched was the notes. No matter how many, no matter how crumpled, no piece of paper was to be disturbed. Ourania knew that something discarded one day might be precisely what he was looking for the next one. She left everything as it was, and if Yanni threw away something she would pick it from the trash and store it neatly in a cardboard box. You never know.

  He wasn’t shy. He knew that Ourania was a gynoid, a sophisticated piece of machinery made to accommodate his needs. He felt relaxed around her, and that was due to a deliberate effort on her part and manners. That’s why he had no reservations stripping in the corridor and walking to the bathroom naked.

  Ourania picked up the clothes and looked at him through the steam. She was failing her program parameters.

  She didn’t want to fail.

  She placed his clean clothes for him on the bed. She had already decided which ones were comfortable enough, and had thrown away the ones who chafed from day one.

  She closed the window shutters and turned on the desk lamp.

  She sat on the bed and waited for Yanni to come out.

  A few minutes later, even without taking a reading she could see that his mood had improved. He walked in the room, rubbing his body with a towel and found the clothes exactly where he expected them.

  “Yanni, is something bothering you?”

  He half-dressed himself and sat next to her. “Nai. My birthday is coming up,” he said, as if that explained every woe in the world.

  “Aren’t people normally happy about their birthday?”

  “Yeah, of course. You don’t understand. There is this thing Einstein said, ‘A person who has not made his great contribution to science before the age of 30 will never do so,’ and it’s been drilling my mind.” He stared at the floor.

  “You do understand that what Einstein said was based on empirical evidence, right?”

  “Yeah, no, I understand that. I just don’t feel that sharp anymore. I used to be able to juggle so many calculations and variables on my mind, but now I need to backtrack all the time.”

  She smiled at him and said, “It doesn’t matter, that is why we have notebooks to scribble on!”

  He looked back at her and laughed. “Yes, definitely. We can’t get enough of them lately.”

  Ourania put her hand on his leg and leaned towards him. She made sure to position her face lower than his, so as to look up to him with her synthetic eyes. Her touch brought up a reading in her field of view. The diagrams lit up in blue. Heartrate did a small hiccup and then jogged on steadily upwards. This was definitely no time for revolutionary physics work.

  She paused for a beat to let his eyes wander on her body and then said, “You can have me, you know.”

  Yanni stood up and put some distance between them. “Ohi. No. I’m not that guy. I have a wife.”

  She leaned back and propped herself up with her hands. She tilted her head a bit and turned her leg inwards. The resulting effect was a pose a painter would drool over and then run scurrying for more blue.

  “You do look, though.”

  “Looking is allowed! You can’t go through a marriage without letting your partner look,” he said, stringing the words together and trying to hastily make his case. “Thalia and I look at people all the time. At the beach, she can look at suntanned bodybuilders all day for all I care. And she brings me celebrity magazines and says ‘Damn, this girl is hot, right? Just look at those boobies!’ No, looking is allowed. Doing… having… is not.”

  “I’m not human, Yanni.”

  “You sure do look like one.”

  She monologued. “A smiley. One curve and two dots, and you see a human face. What is the minimum you need to see a human being? What has to be said, what has to be laughed?” Then she said in a normal tone while presenting herself with her hand, “This is the minimum. You can’t hurt my feelings, Yanni. Nothing will change. This isn’t complicated, it’s simple.”

  Yanni found himself taking a step closer.

  She didn’t need a haptic reading to monitor his arousal level.

  She let her blue dress slide down from her shoulder.

  Yanni came closer.

  He surrendered.

  Chapter 5i^4

  The house was neat and tidy. The living room was a smidge too bright for human eyes, so Ourania pulled back the curtains enough to darken it an f-stop down. Yanni was absorbed by his work. She brought the carefully-made breakfast, optimized in nutrients and vitamins to help Yanni maintain gnosis state. She placed the tray next to him, pulling over a small table so as not to disturb his desktop chaos. She brushed her finger on his neck as she walked past him and his biometric readings popped up into her view. She compared the actual numbers to the projected ones and made appropriate adjustments to her scheduled actions. He was right in the optimal place, “in the zone” as some would call it. She simply called it gnosis.

  “It’s not working,” Yanni complained to himself as soon as he found an audience.

  Ourania waited silently for the complete picture.

  He shuffled through his papers and cursed, “Gamoto, it’s not here!”

  “What do you need?”

  “I can’t even begin to explain… Just some data.”

  “As in…”

  Yanni leaned back in the chair and eyed her as if she were a blonde bimbo. “The Euler number in Calabi-Yau crossings. In ordinary projected spaces,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “Matrix size?”

  “602.”

  “It’s easier if I write it down,” she said and looked around for a writing pad.

  “Actually, I need only the dimensions,” he said.

  “10,12.”

  “Wow. Thanks Ourania,” he said and started jotting down calculations even before the end of the sentence. Ourania knew better than to interrupt him, so she smiled in acknowledgment and sat on the sofa.

  For a frantic few minutes, Yanni mumbled and scribbled, mumbled and scribbled.

  Then he crumpled the paper in his fist and threw it across the room.

  Ourania could take a reading, but she was sure that his gnosis was off anyway. “They say that when a path is blocked, taking our mind off it for a little while can reveal a new way.”

  Yanni paced around the place for a while and then threw his body on the couch next to her, exhaling loudly.

  She asked, “Where you always good at Physics?”

  “Funnily enough, no. I remember a time that I hated physics at school.”

  “And what changed?”

  “I met a girl. I was average in Physics but she was horrible in it. I liked her and I wanted to get to know her.”

  “That is exciting! So, did you?”

  “Yes, Nikos practically shoved me next to her one day. I made some incoherent noises but she didn’t notice, she was upset about an exam. She was worried about failing the class. So I said I could help her pass the exam.”

  “But you were horrible as well!”

  “Yes, I was! She was so glad, she hugged me, gave me her number and left. I was left thinking about how I got myself into that mess. I ran home, stayed up all night and studied for the physics exam.” Yanni kept quiet for a few moments as if recollecting all the exhaustion he’d felt. “I went to school, she took me back to her place, I taught her a few things and went straight back home to study again. It was pretty much the same for a whole week, barely sleeping, studying all the time, teaching what I learnt straight to her. Exam time came, we both passed with good grades. All I remember was Nikos taking me home and th
e sweet feeling of headbutting my pillow. When I woke up, I realised that I was actually good at this Physics shit and that I had spent hours next to the girl I liked. I went on to the university, loony theories, a few minor awards and the funding from Demokritos. Up until today.”

  “And what happened to the girl?”

  “The girl didn’t learn much more of physics since then, but she stayed by my side, every day and every moment. She became my muse and then my fiance.”

  “Thalia.”

  “The same. Which reminds me, where’s my cellphone? I should call her.”

  “I keep it next room so you are not disturbed.”

  “That’s fine, but fetch it for me now.”

  Ourania pursed her lips. “Certainly, but I suggest an exercise before you lose focus. It is proven to yield results in many specialists.”

  Yanni raised an eyebrow in elevated interest. “Nobelists?”

  “In all honesty, no; a mere couple of patents. I assure you though that it has positive results.”

  “What sort of exercise is it?”

  “It’s quite simple. It’s called visualization.”

  “Nah, I don’t believe in that skata,” he said and went back to his cluttered office. He wiped off a piece of an equation from the whiteboard which had become his focus.

  Ourania smiled and walked back into the kitchen. She checked to make sure the cellphone was turned off and began preparing his meal. Yanni had forgotten about calling his wife once more.

  Chapter 6i

  Ourania could see Miss Meropi trying to peek inside through the drapes.

  The old lady was a fragile bag of bones, clad in a black onesie, as was customary for all Greek widows. She was holding a Tupper of food, and was the world’s most pathetic ninja at that moment.

  Of course, Ourania failed to make the connection and did not laugh at all. In fact, due to the spilling microexpressions in her face, you could say she was furious.

  Miss Meropi was trying to stretch her aching body to see inside. She had her glasses on, and they were as thick as the window panes.

  Ourania picked up a dusting feather and crept up to the window. She opened it with a single swipe and began dusting the sill.

  Miss Meropi was startled and fell down on her backside. The food did not spill out of the Tupper.

  “Oh, hello there,” Ourania said casually. Dusting and smiling.

  She stood up and straightened herself. “Hello, little lady. I brought some food over for Yanni,” she said, as if no one had caught anyone sneaking around. “I heard dear Thalia had to go to her parents along with the kids and I said, ‘oh, that skinny young lad could use a piece of moussaka.’ Didn’t know there was a woman around,” she said, the accusation obvious in her voice.

  “Yes, we have some family troubles from Thalia’s side. I’m between jobs at the moment, so I thought I could drop in and take care of my cousin Yanni,” Ourania said, hoping that a plausible explanation would quench the gossip around the neighbourhood.

  Miss Meropi’s eyes darted around the interior of the house. Ourania’s small frame did little to block the view. “Troubles, eh? It’s good of you to drop in on your cousin then. You are such a good girl,” she said, and squeezed Ourania’s cheek.

  She passed the Tupper over though the window.

  “Thank you.”

  “Well, I must be going, then. I didn’t know that you were staying here, else I would have brought some more moussaka. You look like you need some feeding, girl, you’re quite thin. I’ll have some pita tomorrow for you,” she said, inviting herself into more peeking around. She had enough gossip to get her through the day now.

  Miss Meropi turned around and left slowly, rubbing her hip.

  Chapter 6i^2

  “Order me a pizza!” Yanni said in the tone his son Georgie often used. He was hugging a pillow on the bed.

  “Sure. Do you have any fast-food flyers?” Ourania asked and looked around.

  “Come on! Surely you can go online, or call them by tilting your head or something!”

  “Nope. Nothing like that. I need to use the phone like you humans.”

  “That makes no sense! Why didn’t they integrate a cellphone in you? Or wifi? Or a coffee machine?”

  “Because,” Ourania said, underlining the point, “there exist dedicated machines capable of doing such things. When I need to do a phone call, I pick up a phone. When I need to get online, I turn on a laptop. As for the coffee, I think I find that insulting.”

  “Come on, you must have something cool!”

  “Yes, the more I think about it the more insulting it gets.”

  “A superpower. Oh! I know! Laser eyes! Do you have those?”

  “A coffee machine…” she muttered to herself as if she had something bitter in her mouth. She opened her arms wide and looked at her navel, trying to guess where people would install such a thing.

  “Roller wheels?”

  She interrupted him with a firm finger in the air. “I have the ability to cultivate a distraction-free environment and the data necessary to trigger bouts of creativity. I’d say that is cool enough,” she said, and added “hah!” just because it felt appropriate.

  Yanni said nothing for a while and sunk his face in the pillow.

  “No superpowers then,” he said with disappointment.

  “None.”

  Chapter 6i^3

  Ourania was chopping carrots in the kitchen.

  The drawer vibrated.

  She made sure Yanni was upstairs and closed the door. She picked up the phone.

  “Hey, baby,” said Thalia with sweetness in her voice.

  Ourania spoke, mimicking Yanni’s voice. “Yasou.”

  “I know I’m not supposed to bother you all the time but I miss you. The kids miss you a lot. How are you?”

  “I’m fine. I think I’m close, this is all going well,” Ourania said with calculated coldness in her male tone.

  “Good. As long as you’re happy. Last time we spoke you were a bit distant.” Thalia approached the subject carefully, it was nagging her for days. The seed Ourania had planted in their earlier conversation had sprouted leaves.

  “Nai. Listen, Thalia, I’ve had some time to see things clearly. It’s apparent that our previous arrangement wasn’t working for me.”

  “Arrangement? You mean us?”

  “Yeah, it’s obvious that it’s stifling my potential. I spoke with Hermes, they are delighted with the progress I’m making and they offered me a job whether I solve this or not. It’s what I always wanted.”

  “I wanted this too!”

  “No, what you wanted was me playing husband and wasting my time babysitting.”

  Thalia cried out. “They are our kids!”

  “We could have had kids afterwards. A breakthrough in physics could only come to me at a young age. I knew deep down it was over for me if I played house with you, but I did it. And I’m sorry.”

  Thalia was sobbing and through her gasps, she asked, “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that I can’t deal with this right now, but I’ll make right with alimony. You can also keep the house, of course. It’s too big for me, anyway.”

  “You used to call me your muse, you know.”

  “I found a better one.”

  “Why?” Thalia was heartbroken and crying.

  “This is why. This, right now. Always a distraction. We will talk when I’m done. Bye,” said Ourania and hung up the phone. She finished chopping the carrots and threw half of them into a smoothie for Yanni.

  Chapter 6i^4

  Yanni was working.

  Good.

  Ourania looked around the house. It was filled with stuff. So much stuff. What did humans need all that stuff for? She carried a plastic bin in her hand. It was blue.

  She picked up a photo of the couple in a frame. Thalia was wearing too much makeup, and Yanni was standing proud in a suit. His outfit was black and her dress was white. There were lots of flowe
rs around.

  Useless, Ourania thought to herself and threw it in the bin.

  Oh, another pacifier behind the furniture. That makes twelve now. It’s as if infants knew precisely where to throw one so as to maximize its hiding potential.

  Straight in the bin.

  She walked to the kid’s room. There were framed paintings on the wall. Ourania inspected the art and found it lacking. It followed none of the major schools and had too much whitespace. Not to mention the perspective was all wrong. She threw four of them in the bin. The last one she decided to leave there. It showed promise. The rest was spam.

  A soccer ball. Smaller than FIFA regulations. She picked it up in one hand, even though hers was quite petite. It was well worn. Did Yanni play soccer with Georgie? She attributed a ‘sentimental value’ tag on the ball and placed it back.

  She walked to the couple’s bedroom. A hair curler, AC powered. Yanni had no curls. His hair was short and scruffy. Useless. In the bin.

  She looked at Thalia’s dresser. Lots of containers with urine-colored liquid. Olfactory experiences were important and could stimulate memory. Useful. She opened a box with a ribbon on it. The ribbon wasn’t actually holding the box together. Useless. In the bin.

  She pulled up a chair and rummaged through the upper closet. She found a white suitcase, small in size. It contained Georgie’s christening clothes, neatly folded inside, along with a blanket. They were too small for the child now, and his baby sister was female. They could not be reused for her christening. Useless. In the bin.

  She went to the bathroom. She squeezed a loofah in her hand. Sub-par scrubbing potential, the sponge was more efficient. Useless. In the bin.

  She looked into the mirror. Yanni had kept three used razors, as if they would sharpen themselves again at some point in the future. Increased oxidation. Useless. In the bin.

  She picked up some containers that were placed all around the bathroom like ornaments. Shampoo. Shampoo. Conditioner. Shampoo. Shampoo. Shampoo. She made a rough estimate on Yanni’s consumption and left one where it was. The rest were useless. In the bin.