Made an addition to Nabe and the MC's conversation. After re-reading it, I felt it wasn't wholly organic and was missing something that, without it, made the MC appear out of character.
Their names were Finnea and Amrynn.
Finnea was exotic, unlike the others with her tannish skin and funny accent, green lipstick and highlights accentuating a wood-elf grace and figure with her dark teal dress. Her friend, too, was tan but in a Spanish way, wearing tight fitting jeans and a shirt which exposed her midriff in a way that made her fairy-like. We talked for hours, my attempts to communicate ‘cute’ in their words. From what I understood, they both had finished ‘school’ and wanted to start a family. By the evening, they dragged me by hand to the pool below, both dressing down to just panties and boxers. I followed and made love to them throughout the night.
The next day came, Finnea and Amrynn leaving after a morning tumble, giving hugs and kisses goodbye. There was no workout as my muscles felt shredded, that a single twitch left either an arm and leg screaming.
Pyria returned, we resumed our lessons, and she left by noon. Hours into the afternoon, I studied, then greeted by another.
Lierin was by herself, an incredibly shy and gorgeous girl whose pink hair fell above her rear, adorning a ruffled dress fairer than her. Despite my attempts, I couldn’t converse with her, either because she couldn’t understand me or because she refused to talk, giving one or two-word answers. It was to my disappointment that nothing happened. She left that evening at my suggestion.
The bed was cold that night. I didn’t like it.
Another day proved the same as the one before yesterday: morning workout, lessons with Pyria, and two more.
Nith and Renes were sisters of one mother and two other Procreates, sharing the same white-tan skin and amber eyes, their hair a wolfish grey and snow white. Both were skinny, Nith oozing confidence and charm, the other the complete opposite. They too wanted to start a family with their mother and friends, back in their home town of ‘Liereosar.’ They ‘searched’ for me for a reason I didn't understand. Something I had said about Renes’s hair color offended her, and it was only with her sister that we shared veracious sexual energy in the bathtub. It was by morning she joined in, but it was reserved and tense.
At the haste of Renes, both left earlier than had Finnea and Amrynn, much to Nith’s reluctance.
Their visit, along with Lierin’s, had shown that simply being a ‘Loyeidia’ wasn’t enough. Thelamein’s looks couldn’t save her, and neither did her role. Taylor would have to step in.
Over those passionate days melancholia brewed, a string of certain thoughts that persisted, and it was clawing from within. My setbacks hadn’t helped, eroding confidence as sand on a beach.
Probably just need more company, I told myself.
“You look troubled.”
Naberoa’s pad translated as she began removing the three patches from my head, the process more delicate as she tried to instill less discomfort since her last visit.
Why it was her instead of Pyria had something to do with ‘an academic meeting.’ I didn’t question it.
Exhaling, I answered, “I am.”
Sitting in the chair beside me, she tilted her head, midnight silky hair and bangs falling to one side as delicate fabric. “Are you depressed?”
The nuances of Vinlis were more apparent, and I could sense when someone expressed joy, frustration, ecstasy, anger, lust, and even indifference. It was the last tone that not even a British-Germanic voice could hide from me. The possibility that I was wrong was not entertained.
“... I don’t know. Maybe.”
Nabe’s golden-orange eyes gazed at me with an intensity, one that her current dress suited. The new wardrobe was a yellow toga-sash over a starkly black sweater, white mock-turtleneck with slate-hued dress pants, and odd white, high heeled boots (they looked liked something out of a Vogue magazine) giving a look of an exotic, high society member, accentuating hidden sensual curves and bends, and that voluptuous bust. Her makeup was similar as before, that of black eyeliner but with purple lipstick, not too much, not too little.
That smell of something like lavender hadn’t helped alleviate my annoyance at her.
“Is it because you miss your home?”
I looked away.
“You cry at night. It’s not healthy to bottle yourself up.”
Her comment should have bothered me, but in a way it was comforting knowing that someone was watching… except when I’m deep inside a chick.
“... Why did we come to this world?” I asked.
She looked taken aback, remaining stoic.
“We had a choice to stay on Earth, but we chose Kessithi,” and God knows how many light years they traveled. “Why?”
There was no immediate answer, her eyes glazing over for the briefest of moments. “That is a distant history, not one that will have any good answer.”
“Was Earth destroyed?”
“… No, at least not since we left.”
“Why did we leave?”
She tapped a finger several times before answering. “Fading welfare, politics, and unrest have a way of inspiring a flight to the stars. Our mothers and fathers searched and found hundreds of possible homes and a way to cross the void. There was an arc ship… Boötes, and it was said that 500,000 slept for a millenia and then more. They paid dearly for their journey, and more when Kessithi was discovered.”
For a moment, I looked away in my own thoughts. “What do we know… before the… journey? What happened?”
“The societies of Earth, Mars, presumably Terra Nova, and the dozens of habitats suffered from cycles of instability and fragmenting, oligarchical societies which the greatest minds and machines could not… rectify.”
“It wasn’t overpopulation?”
“For Earth, it was for a time.”
“Just how bad did things get?”
“There was a dark age, mass migration, unrest, and death.” Against her usual character, Nabe’s brows furrowed. “It is too sad to talk about.”
“Right,” I nodded once, “it’s just… This doesn’t seem right.”
“What doesn’t?”
“That I’m here. Why was it me?”
“... We assume you came from the memories of the Boötes, a dormant enneagram, but only Amsa knows.”
What the hell? I gave her an incredulous look as a thousand new questions flooded my head. “You… don’t know where I came from?”
“Yes.”
“But… who… Who found me? Where was I found?”
“Orthoea,” she answered before falling silent.
“... Was I created?”
There was not an immediate answer. “That is not likely.”
“Then–”
“We simply do not know. The CM would need to be asked, but that might be difficult given her current occupation.”
“Hold on, what’s a ‘CM’?”
She blinked before saying, “Created Mind.”
I thought back to the server room tour with Dara. She had mentioned that there is ‘mind’ inside the machines but never elaborated.
Long and hard did I mull on the implications. Not ‘likely’ created, but found. I was on the Boötes, but I have no memories of boarding and ‘sleeping’ on it, so I must have been some sort of… corpse? A brain in a jar? A clone? A digitized copy? The mention of ‘the memories of the Boötes,’ and me being an ‘enneagram,’ led me to think it was the last one, and if that were so, why?
Why me?
“Tae-lor?”
My attention shot back to her. Had I zoned out?
“It’s… not why I asked my last question.”
“Which question?”
“Why… why was it just me?” Knowing what my family and friends had likely gone through did little to ease me. I escaped, and they had been damned to whatever cruel hand human history dealt to them.
Worse was how unremarkable my last moment… my last memory was in the face of the unthinkable. Before that night there were many like it, less and less clear the further back they went, that in those nights Juane and Adam would drag me in front of girls; that we’d compete in how many shots we’d take; that Adam made us laugh silly at poop jokes; that Sylvia and Brooke would critique my wardrobe and bitch about their jobs boyfriend(s), and of some episode of Love Island; that Xander gaslight us into thinking Kermit really had committed 9/11; that Haley threw hissy fits over how steak wasn’t vegan; and that Juane brought home two latinas with bruises from a fist fight. That last night was tamer, that despite the bar hopping, loud music, and cold approaching, the others behaved themselves… They were giving me more attention, more hugs and stronger drinks, more than typical, almost as though we were celebrating my last night, and that I would be off to war…
It should have been a normal night, and I should have woken up to another typical day. I can’t make sense of it, except for the hospital…
“Your presence could never be your choice,” Nabe assured and shook her head once. “You cannot blame yourself for what has or hasn't happened. Now only matters.”
“I know…” and maybe I couldn’t have done anything.Does that make it worse? Part of me wanted to ask her, the other part of me already knew.
“I wish there was a better answer,” she said unconvincingly.
There was a curious look from her, and she remained silent for a long moment. “Do you mean Thelamein, Tae-lor?” Nabe asked.
I shook my head. It was hard to feel sadness for someone you hardly knew, a stranger whose shoes you wear for the sake of others. But the fact that, for every morning, I have to face her in the mirror is a surreal visage, and it would remind me who I was and was not. Even this morning, it was like a shard of ice pierced my spine.
This despite the fact I found her attractive.
“What century?”
“... What?”
“What Sol century was your last memory?”
“The… 21st?”
There was a nod from her. “You must understand that Pre-Exodus history spans thousands of years. Your loved ones had the fortune to live in one of the few golden ages.”
What the hell happened to make 2026 a golden year?
Or… shit, was it 2028?
I shook my head. “I should have been there, or at least said goodby.”
Silence took us as I mulled, as she waited patiently.
“You have family?” I asked.
Again, she was taken aback, and for the faintest moment something flashed in her eyes. “I have mothers.”
“Mothers?” She doesn’t sound too proud of them.
“One I hardly see. The other… she is my Procreate.”
Well duh. “Everyone has parents. I guess what I’m asking is if you were close to them.”
She didn’t answer.
“What about siblings?”
“My birth Mother only had me, then she left. The sisters I had were from my other parent…
“Sisters… what were they like?”
“They did not like me.”
“There must have been one.”
“… There was… There were two.”
“Why just two–?”
“Why are you asking?” The pad was undercut by Nabe’s elevated inflection, emphasizing the ‘why’ in her Vinlis speech, and her features grew tense.
“… Forget I asked.”
“Please do.”
I gazed at her with annoyance. What the hell is her problem?
She seemed to ease, shutting her eyes as she exhaled. “What about your siblings?”
“… What?”
Still in that damn, flat and disinterested tone, she elaborated, “I would much rather know about yours, since you were keen to know about mine.”
“… I think we’re done.”
Surprise flashed in her eyes as I stood, striding across the room with my back to her, making my way toward the bedroom. Nothing else was said. I was too pissed.
Part of me thought Naberoa would try to follow, yet she didn’t seem the kind of girl to barge in on someone changing into something warmer for chilly weather (something like a loose sweater) and then follow them into the lower court yards, pavilions, and gardens where there was fresh air. She was welcome to try.
Leaving the bedroom, I found her standing by the table, her brief case packed and closed. “Thelamein?” she asked with a hint of emotion.
I ignored her as I made my way toward the entrance. When the doors did not part on their own, I placed my hand on the white pad, only for it to flash red.
Turning to her, I asked, “Can I leave?”
She stared at me for a long moment.
“Naberoa, please.”
There was a blink, then a nod from her. Confusion took me as I looked back at the entrance and to Nabe, waiting for her to do something else.
Slowly, my hand again met the white pad. At a flash of green, the doors parted. I was past them as soon as they had.