by Edward Zajac
“Hmm?” said Aurora, turning. “Oh, no, not really. I just thought we should meet. Hello.”
“Hello,” repeated Zagarat.
Aurora chewed her lower lip nervously. “So, how you doing?”
“Good,” said Zagarat, nodding. “Good. All things considered. You?”
“Can’t complain,” said Aurora, mirroring his nod. “Can’t complain.”
“That’s good.”
An attar of awkwardness filled the air, its heady musk nearly palpable as the two nodded inanely at each other like two bobble head dolls. Aurora seemed more awkward at sentient interaction than Zag, and that didn’t seem sentiently possible because Zagarat had an honorary Master’s degree in Social Awkwardness with a Minor in Foot-in-Mouth Insertion.
“Soooo,” said Aurora, eventually. “How do you like your room?”
“It’s very nice. Thank you.” Aurora nodded again, smiling perfunctorily. “Was there something you wanted, Aurora?”
“Actually,” said Aurora. “Yes, there is. I’d like you to stay. Not forever, mind you. Just until Fletcher resolves this whole Galustay situation.” Aurora held out her hands, preempting any argument from Zag. “I know it’s a lot to ask. It’s just that… Fletcher needs you even though he doesn’t know that he needs you.”
“He doesn’t need me,” said Zagarat, chuckling at the mere notion. “He might need a therapist, but he doesn’t need me.”
“Are you kidding me?” said Aurora, her voice slightly lilting. “He desperately needs someone like you. You know that plan about scaling the building in the middle of the night? He wasn’t joking about that. That was his actual plan for getting the information.” Her eyes drifted to the side. “And the weird thing is it probably would have worked.” She shook her head. “I don’t know how he does it, but it always works.” Her expression suddenly turned somber. “Well, nearly always works. Sometimes, it doesn’t. And that why he needs someone like you.”
“That’s very kind of you to say,” said Zagarat. “But I think you’re wrong. Plus, I really need to get back to my mother.”
“I understand,” said Aurora. “It’s just that…” She motioned to sit, but passed right through the bed. “Darn it. Could we do this face to face? This way is too impersonal.”
“You want to meet in person?” asked Zagarat. His eyes grew wide. A hologram wanted to meet him in person. That was new. Most holograms were willing to talk to him, 5 credits for the first minute, 1 credit for each additional minute, but this was new. “Is that even possible? I mean, you’re a…” Aurora blinked innocently at him. “And I’m a…” She continued to stare. Zag made a dismissive gesture in the air. “You know what? Sure. Let’s meet. Are you gonna teleport here?”
“No, you big silly,” said Aurora, swatting his arm playfully. “You have to come to me.”
“I have to come to you. Okay, sure.” Zagarat motioned towards the door. “Lead the way.”
Aurora actually yipped as she hopped happily in place. “Oh, this is gonna be so much fun.” The door swished open. “I haven’t had visitors in so long.”
The vivid wallpaper in the hallways had changed from a beachscape to a craggy ravine; umber brown with red striations. Whorls of ruddy dust clouds whirled in the air, casting small pebbles all around Zag, but never at him.
It was utterly authentic. And utterly surreal.
“So, do you really think I’m a sexy bitch?” asked Aurora coyly as they walked.
Zagarat blanched. “Oh, you heard that?” he said, grimacing. “Sorry about that. I didn’t know you were listening. Or even existed.”
“Don’t be silly,” said Aurora, swatting playfully at him. “That was the nicest thing anyone has said to me in years.” She frowned. “Fletcher doesn’t say nice things like that to me anymore.”
Zagarat sidestepped a stone in the middle of the hallway before realizing that it wasn’t actually there. “Have you two been together long?” he asked.
The question seemed to trigger something in Aurora. She looked away wistfully. Yet there was something rueful about her expression, aging her well beyond her affected years. “Ages.”
“Well, it must be nice having someone to travel with.”
“It can be,” said Aurora, young and vibrant once more. “Except when Fletcher’s being a total rectum.”
“What do you mean?” said Zagarat, finding himself strangely at ease in Aurora’s company.
“It’s not any one thing, really,” said Aurora. “It’s just…” She paused. “It’s like he does things just to get on my nerves.”
“Like what?”
“He always argues with me or says things just to get under my skin.”
“Oh,” said Zagarat, chuckling. “That just means he likes you.”
Aurora stopped and turned. “What do you mean?”
“It’s nothing,” said Zagarat, gesturing with his left hand. “Forget it.”
“No,” said Aurora. “Tell me.”
Zagarat sighed. “I used to do the same thing when I was in school. There was a girl in my class named Fazy Ahn. Oh, I had the biggest crush on her. I would pull the hair on her chin all the time or call her names. You know, because I liked her.”
“Why would you do that if you liked her?” asked Aurora, genuinely intrigued.
“Because I liked her,” said Zagarat, as if it were self-explanatory. Evidently, it wasn’t because Aurora still looked perplexed. “You haven’t met many Lerandan males, have you?”
Aurora placed her hands on her hips. “I’ve met Lerandan males,” she said obdurately. “I’ve met all sorts of males. Why wouldn’t I?”
“No reason,” said Zagarat, holding out his hands. “No reason. It’s just that sometimes feelings can be scary and it’s easier to dance around them than with them. If that makes any sense.”
From Aurora’s expression, it evidently didn’t make any sense, but she continued down the hallways nonetheless. As they turned a corner, Zagarat saw Devon standing in the middle of the corridor, his head tilted to one side as he stared at a single point in space.
But that wasn’t what was strange. It was his eyes. They were completely white, devoid of irises or pupils. Just perfectly white sclera, large and pearlescent.
“What’s wrong with him?” asked Zagarat.
“Hmm?” said Aurora, as if lost in her own little universe. She turned. “Oh, that’s just Devon. He’s, uh, different.”
“But his eyes…”
“Yeah, they do that sometimes.” The maglift doors opened and Aurora walked inside. “Are you coming?”
“Uh, yeah,” said Zagarat, staring at Devon for a moment before following Aurora inside. “Where are we going?”
“To me,” said Aurora, smiling.
If the maglift moved, Zagarat didn’t feel it. Everything was still and quiet, entirely motionless even though the ship itself was probably travelling at astronomical speeds.
At least, astronomical to Zag.
The doors opened onto what looked like an enormous garden, lush and resplendent with flora from various planets. There were Bylarian pansies, Thoran lilies, even Lerandan Pickawillies. A gift from the comedy gods if ever there was one.
But the most beautiful flowers, at least to Zagarat, were the aurora roses. They were simple yet exquisite, with a smell that was absolutely sublime. In many respects, their origins were one of the universe’s great mysteries. For countless millennia, most sentients had never even seen a rose before. Not until the Magi Corporation introduced them some fifty years ago. Now, they could be found on most habitable planets.
“You like?” asked Aurora coyly.
Zagarat looked around at the splendor before him. “It’s amazing.”
Aurora grinned. “Come on. There’s still one other thing I want to show you.”
She skipped down a windy cobble walkway that weaved in a serpentine fashion through the garden. Zagarat dawdled behind her, taking his time in order to admire the flowers. He even bent down to sm
ell a perfect crimson rose, its intoxicating scent filling his senses. But when he reached out to caress its silken petals, his hand passed right through it.
“Amazing,” said Zagarat, running his hands through the image two more times.
Aurora poked her head out from behind a Parson Shrub. “You coming?”
“Yeah,” said Zagarat. “Sorry.”
Zagarat followed a skipping Aurora down the windy path until, with a flourish of her arms, she stopped before what looked like an enormous globe. It must have been nearly fifty feet in diameter, filled with a clear, gelatinous liquid and golden flecks that glittered in the light. In the center of this surreal space globe was a female biped, completely naked save for a few strategically placed white straps.
At first, Zagarat didn’t recognize the woman. But then he did. “Wait. Is that…”
“Yep,” said Aurora, posing before herself. “That’s me. See? I am the ship and I’m not the ship.” She then smiled coyly at Zag. “So, what do you think? Am I still a sexy bitch?”
“The sexiest I’ve ever seen,” he said, his eyes wide with awe.
Aurora’s white cheeks turned red. “Oh, stop it, you charmer.”
“Are you in some kind of suspended animation?”
“Something like that,” said Aurora.
“How are you linked to the ship? I don’t see any wires or couplings.”
“Intelligel,” said Aurora, tapping the glass. “Gives me direct access to the whole ship.”
“I’ve never heard of it,” said Zagarat.
“Makes sense,” said Aurora. “It’s kind of new.”
A thought suddenly occurred to Zagarat. “Are you like Fletcher’s prisoner or something? Is he holding you here against your will?”
“Oh, you’re sweet,” said Aurora. “No, I’m not his slave. Far from it. In fact, he saved my life.” She looked up at the original Aurora, Aurora 1.0 with a sort of whimsy in her eyes. “If it wasn’t for him, I’d be dead right now.”
“What happened?” asked Zagarat.
Aurora’s mien turned more serious. “That’s kind of personal,” she said.
“Of course,” said Zagarat, holding up his hands apologetically. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
“It’s okay,” said Aurora. “I just don’t know you well enough to tell you that. Not yet.”
“I understand,” said Zagarat. His eyes drifted up to Aurora 1.0. “So, are you stuck in there forever?”
“I wouldn’t say I’m stuck,” said Aurora. “This is just where I live right now.” She turned. “And now I want you to live inside me for a while.”
Zagarat smirked. “Don’t I normally have to buy you dinner first?”
“What?” said Aurora, seemingly confused. Then she gasped, holding out her hands. “Oh, no, no, no. That’s not what I meant. I meant I want you to travel with us, that’s all. That’s all.”
“I know,” said Zag. “I was just messing with you.”
“Oh,” said Aurora, smiling shyly. “I see.”
Zagarat drew closer to the globe. “Have you ever tried leaving?” he asked.
“Why would I want to leave?” sad Aurora. “I have everything I need here. Besides, Fletcher needs me. And I need him.” She glanced up at Zag. “And he needs you.”
Zagarat met her glance and raised her a stare. “Really? He needs me?”
“Yes,” said Aurora. “Fletcher needs someone to keep him from being… well, Fletcher.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” said Zagarat.
“It will,” said Aurora, with an omniscient smile. “You see, Fletcher doesn’t think. He acts. He puts his head down and barrels through whatever’s in front of him as if it’s the universe’s job to get out of his way. He can be impetuous, careless, and a pain in the rectum.” She paused, looking up at herself with a mélange of sadness and wonder. “But he can also do amazing things. Wonderful, amazing things. I can honestly say you’ll never meet anyone as infuriating, annoying, and absolutely amazing as him.”
The events on Mayoo suddenly came to mind. “What is he?” asked Zagarat.
Aurora smiled though it barely reached her eyes. “He’s Fletcher.” She reached out as if to touch Zagarat then pulled her hand back, remembering herself. “He’s a man who saved a little girl when no one else would. He’s a man who protects a race no one else cares about.” She glanced up at Zagarat. “And he’s a man who inspired a timid tech to hack into the Deus database and then break into a sentient’s apartment, all to help a race he knew nothing about.”
Zagarat felt a tingle down his spine as the realization dawned on him. He had done all those things, hadn’t he? Suns, he had.
Aurora’s eyes danced at Zagarat’s reaction. “You didn’t even think about it, did you?” she asked. “You just felt a need to help him.” She nodded. “Yeah, he does that. He makes you want to be better than you are. And that’s why I think he’d be good for you.”
Zag didn’t know why, but he took some umbrage at that. “What do you mean by that?”
“Fletcher chose you for a reason,” said Aurora. “What that reason is, I don’t know, but I think he sees something in you that you don’t see in yourself.” She walked forward until she was inches away from Zagarat. Even though the logical part of his mind told him that she wasn’t actually standing there in front of him, it… she looked so real.
“Just think about it,” said Aurora. “Okay?”
“I will,” said Zagarat, softly. “I promise.”
“Good,” said Aurora. “Because I have to go. Fletcher wants an update on the information you gathered. I don’t know what kind of encryption you used, but it’s very secure.”
Zagarat felt his cheeks warm again at the compliment. The ones on his face, that is. He had a cream for his other… never mind. “I coded it myself,” he said.
“That explains it,” said Aurora. “You really are an amazing tech.” She then rolled her eyes up towards the ceiling and sighed. “Would you relax? I’ll be there in a second.” She shook her head. “I swear, one day that man is going to drive me insane.”
Zagarat chuckled. It really was like watching an old married couple.
“You really care for him, huh?” asked Zagarat.
The question did not get the response Zag expected. He had expected Aurora to smile or blush at the question, but all she did was frown, tears forming in her eyes.
“I do,” she said softly. “That’s why I want you to help him. I think you two would be good for each other. Please think about it.”
Zagarat sighed. “What’s the point? He’s whatever the suns he is and I’m…” He scoffed. “Whatever the suns I am.”
“You’re something special,” said Aurora, tenderly. “You just have to start believing it. Just think about it, okay?” She then sighed, rolling her eyes in exasperation as he looked up at the ceiling. “For Setton’s sake. Relax. I’m coming. I’m coming, you pain in the…”
Aurora suddenly disappeared, leaving Zagarat all alone in this ersatz gardenscape with only his thoughts for company. And that was never a good thing.
agarat didn’t remember the trip back to his room. The copilot of his mind took over mid-flight while the pilot disappeared to the bathroom for some much needed relief.
Now, Zag found himself in the middle of his bed, thinking to himself. Because thinking to someone else was telepathy and that was just weird.
He’d had a good life until now. Nothing particularly exciting, but nothing particularly tragic either. Just a perfectly normal, sentient life.
And then Fletcher Griffin came along and ruined everything.
First, he’d convinced Zag to hack into the Deus database, which was probably a felony. Then they broke into Bent’s apartment, which was probably also a felony. Zag suffered severe food poisoning, which should have been a felony. And then, to round out the adventure, he had nearly been killed by a bunch of thugs, who were all probably felons.
Just to help out a race called the Weiy
lans.
Damn it, thought Zagarat, pounding his fist in the mattress. Why were those mega-corps always so damn greedy? Why did they always…
Zagarat stopped himself. It wasn’t the corporation. It was never the corporation. It always came back to one sentient. One sent who either authorized the behavior or looked the other way then reaped the benefits. A sentient who never took the fall.
And maybe that was why the universe needed more sentients like Fletcher.
Zagarat scoffed. Now, there was a thought. A universe with even more bumbling privateers. Privateers who were lucky to be alive. Privateers who were pains in the asteroids.
Privateers who could do the extraordinary.
A small ping suddenly rang overhead. “Zagarat, there’s someone on the comm for you.”
“Oh,” said Zagarat in surprise. “Thanks, Aurora. Where should I…”
Before he could finish his question, Margarat Cole appeared at the foot of his bed, dressed in a fluffy white robe. And facing the wrong direction.
“Hello. Hello. Is this thing on?”
“Hi, mom. It’s me, Zag. I’m right here.”
“Hello, hello,” she continued. “Could someone help me with this sunning thing?”
“Mom,” said Zagarat, calmly. His mother and technology had always had somewhat of an antagonistic relationship, without any of the sexual undertones. At least, he hoped there were no sexual undertones, just as he hoped that buzzing in her room was just the air purifier. Suns, he really hoped that was just the air purifier. “Mom, you’re facing the wrong direction.”
“Zag? Is that you?”
“Yeah, ma. It’s me. You just gotta turn around and face the little dot. There you go. No, no. Too close. Too close. You don’t have to sit so close.”
“What?!” yelled Margarat.
“You don’t need to yell, ma. The audio sensors will pick up your voice just fine.”
“Oh, there you are,” said Margarat, smiling as she sat back. “Hello, Zagarat.”
“Hi, mommen,” said Zagarat. “You look good.”
“Don’t I know it,” said Margarat, primping her hair. “I’ve already had three marriage proposals. Would you like a Folian step-father, a Bylarian step-mother, or a Heesen looks-like-someone-stepped-on-her-face?”
