by Jen Greyson
Had the Samarians chosen this, and again, why?
I kicked my fins, lazily floating alongside Dirk, so overwhelmed by the continual explosions of color as fish darted in and out of the coral. He pointed to a cave on the ocean floor and gave a quick kick, sending him downward toward the dark spot that was big enough for us to enter—and something huge to leave.
Luckily, you couldn’t die in a sim. The thought made me laugh and he shot me a glance. That would be a first, creating a presentation where the pearl died.
Everything about this confused me. There was no point to diving during a presentation. He couldn’t talk to me, couldn’t show off. Diving was just… diving. It was simple, and for me, the best meditation I’d ever find. Here, the entire world retreated, even the sounds. I was forced to focus on each breath, unable to hold it too long, or fill my lungs too far and screw up my buoyancy. Diving forced me to be present in the moment, attentive to my surroundings.
Such a peculiar thing to waste sim time on, which was why I’d never asked Fransín to make one. Besides, the data space needed to create the illusion of weightlessness was massive. Whatever their reasons—either Dirk’s or the Samarian’s—they’d pulled out all the stops to make this one happen.
Begging the question even further as to their motives.
I frowned and had to pay attention to what Dirk was doing where he hovered a few inches above the ocean floor, fingertips grazing the white sand as he watched me descend to where he was so we could peer into the cave together.
My heartbeat escalated at the endless options the sim could create inside that blackness.
CHAPTER 4
I’D EXPECTED HER to panic a bit. Or ask a question about diving or the creatures that darted around us. None of that. Not a single moment of drama. Because of her training or familiarity with diving? The second seemed far less likely. And yet, she was a competent diver, managing her buoyancy like a pro and trusting all the hardware like she’d worn it before.
When the Samarians had chosen to start the sim with this, I’d wavered, but they’d convinced me that she’d be pleased and appreciate it. I hadn’t questioned, figuring they knew more about these things than I did. Now I was curious as to why.
She paused beside me and I gave her an “okay” sign which she immediately returned along with a small smile. Nice to see that she was capable. Maybe some of the other features the Samarians had added would pull a few more into view. I pointed toward the cave and again, she surprised me with a nod, no fear showing behind the clear glass of her mask.
I lifted my fingers off the sand and fluttered my fins, easing into the opening. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure she’d followed and, with Lility at my left hip, swept my attention left and right to pick up the opening I was looking for. I hadn’t done this part of the sim, but they’d told me what to look for. The cave’s width left plenty of room for us to move side by side, but I wasn’t sure if it would stay that way. I’d rather have her in front of me, but couldn’t until I found the right branch.
In here, more fish swam lazily through the shafts of sunlight filtering down from the holes in the roof above, spots where the rock had eroded and the serenity of the view made it hard to remember that we were in a simulation and not a naturally occurring formation on a lover’s planet like Bevi’s Rupliv. Tiny bubbles trickled past my mask where they leaked from a seal. I frowned, disliking that reality feature of the sim because it wasn’t like I could fix them after the dive. I shook off my need to have my hands in everything and tried to enjoy the exercise. Truth was, I was feeling more nervous with each passing minute in this presentation. Not being able to talk to her freely or hear her sighs of frustration plucked my nerves.
We rounded an easy corner in the cave and it opened into a wide pool with two branches on the far side. The left one would lead to the final part of this segment of the sim. I blew out a hard breath and hope she liked it.
“Everything okay?” Her voice echoed in my mask.
I rolled over on my back, kicking one fin lazily. “Depends, do you like it so far?”
She pressed her lips together in a fine line, mimicking one of the orange fish when we’d come in. I wasn’t sure if she was mocking me or trying to come up with an answer. “I do. It reminds me of home.”
Ah, well that explained why they’d added it. I’d forgotten that the pearl candidates were raised on Samaria; it had been a long time since I’d heard that but the fact came to me as we hung suspended in the blue waters. “How long has it been since you’ve been diving.”
“Years. Years and years. I’m surprised I even remember how.”
“You’re very good.” I rolled onto my belly and took us farther into the circular opening and toward the other cave.
“Thanks,” her answer was quiet and I smiled.
The left tunnel had a lower roof and downward slant that was almost immediately and I slowed, wanting her to stay beside me from this point forward. Her arms floated at her sides, our fingertips brushing as we moved closer. I waited for her to pull away, but she didn’t, surprising me yet again. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding and dropped eight inches as my buoyancy reset. “You okay?” she asked.
“Yeah. Need to grab a light.” I fumbled with the strap on my calf, flicking the flashlight free and turning it on. Light flooded the cavern, illuminating the water above and below us, revealing more caverns below us, long teeth of stalagmites touching their twins stretching down from the ceiling. Long, slender fish wound their way through the openings, ignoring us.
Lility moved closer, kicking herself into a position that kept her head below my chest and her fins moving fluidly with mine. My empty hand found a spot on the curve of her shoulder, loosely holding her in place. “Those are freaking me out.”
“Want me to get rid of them?” I had the access to adjust the sim as we went, though I didn’t mind that she’d turned to me for protection. “We’ll be past them in a second.”
“I guess I’m fine as long as you stay between me and those teeth.”
I laughed softly. “So as long as they bite me, it’s fine?”
She reached toward my hand and I thought she was going to shove it off, but she patted it. “You’re bigger, take longer to eat you and I can get away.”
“You’re sweeter. They’d rather have quality than quantity.” I nudged her waist with the butt of the light and forced her a good foot toward the fish. She squealed and fought her way back on the other side of me, making me laugh harder. She rolled onto her side and glared at me. “Not funny.”
“Funny,” I snorted. “Very funny.”
She scowled and swam back below me, edging left of center and I settled my hand on her upper arm, testing her limits. She left it and I exhaled softly, feeling the tiniest wave of success roll over me like we’d passed through a thermocline. I wanted to chat with her, build on the little bit of camaraderie, but before I could think of what to say, the first sparkle caught my eye.
She inhaled sharply. “What’s that.” Her body floated up into mine and she didn’t kick away immediately.
“That’s what we’ve come for.”
CHAPTER 5
AGAINST MY BETTER judgment, I’d trusted him throughout all of this. Other than the cudix looking fish that gave me the creeps, we’d had a nice time and I’d enjoyed it. I liked it a lot better with the extra light on, now that we’d gone deep enough into the second leg of the cave that the ceiling was too far below ground to have any holes like the previous segment, making my helmet lights penetrate a mere few feet and surrounding us in an inky blackness that was probably filled with cudix fish.
I swam ahead of him, toward the curious sparkling things half-hidden behind a rocky outcropping jutting up from the floor. All around the rocks, the floor fell away like we were standing atop a giant cliff instead of floating. I swallowed and nibbled my lower lip, trying to control my curiosity but wanting a closer look.
“Go ahead,” Dirk said,
shining the light directly on the spot.
I blinked and swam closer, able now to make out the heaps of jewels. “What is all this?”
“Buried treasure.”
I laughed. There wasn’t any such thing anymore, all assets on each planet catalogued, inventoried, and accounted for in the universal store room. If one planet needed more Gubun leather off the Spiznwix planet, they got it, same for Molvip metal out of the Bevi galaxy and Yunglin tea off Tipper. Unhidden treasures didn’t exist, but I couldn’t help but be enamored with the effort he’d gone to create some. I touched the emeralds and rubies, doing my best to hide my smile.
He exhaled and sunk down beside me, handing me a common diamond and a pretty sapphire. “I forgot to bring a bag to put our booty in.”
“Here.” I unzipped the top of my wetsuit a few inches and stuck a couple against my left breast. He cleared his throat and my gaze flew to his, surprised at his wide-eyed stare. After a few long moments while he watched me put six jewels in (no point in taking the diamonds) he turned back to the pile. “Hold on.”
Silt rose around us like a cloud as he sifted through the pile, finally coming up with a single small bead, holding it up for me to see. I smiled and held out my cupped hand. Without looking at me, he lowered the pearl softly and a current moved it in a slow circle against the bowl of my palm. It was a rare cream one, a color once common on the planet that had birthed the humans.
I stared at it, forcing myself not to search his face for answers. Mostly, I wanted to know how much of this sim the Samarians had created, and how much Dirk had added. The pearl twirled and danced against my skin; had Dirk been any other representative, I would have been delighted at the significance. As it was, the tiny jewel troubled me.
I didn’t understand why he’d gone to such lengths for the presentation. I mean, most representatives did, but they were actually trying to win me. Dirk wasn’t. He was a placeholder, one I still hadn’t figured out. I couldn’t choose him, so why go to all this trouble? And for things that were so human and my favorites, like he’d actually spent time learning me from a presentation, like I would have done for him had he been a real representative.
And if he was… why hadn’t the Samarian’s sent a packet? There was so much about this that I didn’t understand.
Before I could ask any questions, the ocean around us dissolved until we were back in our original outfits, standing on a beach at sunset—an honest to goodness beach. A simple blue sky stretched to the edge of the horizon, a single bright yellow sun hovering above it. A dozen feet away, lazy waves tumbled toward a stretch of sandy white beach at our feet, unmarred by another being. Salty air filled my lungs and I breathed it deep, tasting it on the back of my tongue and teasing the corners of my eyes with joyful tears. I’d forgotten the beauty of simple.
Never, in all my dates, both these arranged ones with all their rules and vastly different presentations and the ones Francine had created, had I encountered this sim. It was too simple, too mundane, too archaic and old-school.
It was everything I enjoyed about the databanks. And while I was nearly positive this was a simulation of Earth, I didn’t want to rob him of revealing the data, since it would be a big deal to either him or the Samarians, whoever had put this level of thought into he creation. “Where are we?”
He shrugged it off. “I’d heard there’s never been anything to compare to an Earth sunset, something about the atmosphere when it was still around made the sun turn the entire sky to fire. I’ve never seen one myself, but I asked them to program it in.” We turned and stared at the horizon, his answer stunning me into silence while I pondered the reason.
The heat of his body warmed my arm and I wanted to say something to break the moment, to keep us from being entranced by the magic of the giant yellow ball dipping into the ocean. I believed what he said and had certainly never seen anything like this before. The sky was no longer blue, but a rich mixture of pink and purple and orange, impossible colors that were reflected off the ocean’s surface.
When he spoke, his voice was quiet, another shush like the waves sliding along the sand. “The Samarians thought you’d appreciate some humanness, since they sent me.” Another shrug. “There used to be a human saying that a perfect date was long walks on a beach.”
I knew that. I knew it like the sound of my own breath. The saying had been in the same databank where we’d stumbled on all the fantastic old-world sayings and quirks I treasured about the past. I’d instantly fallen for the idea of a long walk on the beach and had thought about asking Francine to make me a sim of it, but she’d laughed at the idea of a beach walk—went on for a lengthy tirade, actually—squelching my admission of how much I’d wanted to try it.
But he’d done it. Dirk, of all people, had created a sim of a desire so secretive I hadn’t told my best friend, my soul mate, my sister from another mister.
Why? I studied him out of the corner of my eye. He seemed genuinely interested in watching the sun slide into the horizon, enraptured by the shifting colors of the sky. I was so confused. He wasn’t anything like I’d been led to believe—another trick from the Samarians? And why would they, of all the galaxies, send me such an unsuitable replacement to represent who they were as a species? This was a presentation for planet’s sake, not a festival, not a high council meeting, this was their deliberate submission for the union. Not only had they defied rules they themselves had helped define, but they’d sent him with a sim that was straight out of my soul, one that no one could have known, no one. For every stroke forward, I took a hundred backward, leaving me exhausted from the effort.
I turned away from him, taking a few steps to put space between us. This wasn’t right. I needed a grip on who he was. He wasn’t a Samarian. This wasn’t his presentation. This was all the Samarian’s creation and they’d sent him to give it. I couldn’t allow my lifelong bond with them to muddy the facts. Dirk Battleship was NOT a Samarian. He wasn’t.
A wave slid toward my feet and I stopped beyond its reach, desperate to suck in air. Again, the mixture felt off, like I wasn’t getting enough oxygen. I’d never been so off balance during a presentation; there’d never been a reason to. Even the Spiznwix debacle with all its issues hadn’t compared to this unsettling feeling in my stomach. The LinnOw had been boring, the Mercev too brief, the Foley too political. But I’d been fine, handling them as was expected of me, with respect and dignity and no difficulty.
This was something altogether different. I’d thought that I’d resigned myself to the Samarian’s deceit and had been doing a fine job of receiving Dirk as their choice, but this sim… it was getting to me. Tears stung my eyes as the sun slipped the last few inches below the horizon, flashing brilliantly in a final sendoff. The ocean’s blue turned indigo, reflecting the sky’s purples, oranges, pinks and colors I had no name for. They were the richness of Pia flowers, the swirling mixtures of Bevi storms, all combined here, on a planet that didn’t exist, the one responsible for starting our species.
I could feel him back there, breathing in all my oxygen, matching the filling of his similar lungs with mine. It was weird. And yet… comforting.
I tucked my hands inside the sleeves of my junhitoe, cupping my elbows. What if I just let go and stopped trying to figure him out? Fluttering erupted in my stomach. I’d learned so much about the Foleys and LinnOws and Spiznwix during their presentations once I’d let go of the option to pick them. They’d become research for me and I’d catalogued every nuance and detail that would help me rule. There’d be no need for that with Dirk. I’d never rule a human, never need to know the reasons that made up his decisions. After a lifetime of databanks and research and propriety, there was not a single thing I needed to learn over the remainder of this presentation.
I was free of all obligations.
And he’d given me the sim I’d secretly dreamed of.
I bit my lower lip, sucking all Fransín’s hard work off the tender skin. Did it matter now? I didn’t need to
look a certain way for him, didn’t need his approval, didn’t need him to report back. I could be me and he could be whoever the hell he wanted. I drew a deep breath and trailed my fingers down my forearms, pulling them apart. The chance at a few days of freedom sent a thrill through me. This was my last chance at it, far more so than with Fransín last night. We had the sim at our disposal and I was near positive I could convince him to do anything I wanted.
A smile played at my lips as I weighed the consequences, but there weren’t any. He was still in charge of the presentation, I’d just been allowed to give myself over to it, heart and body and soul without a single obligation. And enjoying it didn’t mean I had to pick him. I still couldn’t pick him and everyone knew it.
I chewed my lip.
Except… as they’d sent me a male in a female/male year… I technically could pick a Samarian, if I wanted. Which I didn’t.
Still, I sighed, there was no harm in allowing myself to be entertained by the presentation. Wrestling with my disappointment was exhausting and there was no need for it. Dirk couldn’t do anything about the royals who’d sent him and this presentation, so being mad at him didn’t serve me of anything other than robbing me of having a good time.
I shifted subtly so I could watch him, studying his obnoxiously chiseled features as the lighting shifted across his skin. A millennia ago, he’d have been the pinnacle of human maleness, strikingly handsome and strong. I’d spent too many years with other species, attributing so many better qualities on the scale of importance. And yet, he’d made this sim for me.
The waning sunlight kissed my robes, bringing them to life, illuminating the satin and sparkling threads. The jewels at my temples cast a light show across my body and the sand, tossing spots of light on Dirk’s suit. I turned to face him, watching them traverse his body, entertained for a moment and caught up in the simple pleasure of a sun spot. “I’m not really dressed for the beach.” I smiled with the statement, wanting him to know that I’d buried my bias and predisposed notions of who he was and what the next three days would bring.