by Jen Greyson
“Nor I.” He bent over and sifted through the sand, straightening and holding out a delicate seashell. “Maybe that doesn’t matter?”
I took the shell from him, a bright red swirl cutting through the outer white shell. I traced the pattern and the shell’s smooth surface. “Thank you.”
With his arm still extended, he opened his palm, offering me both himself and the view before us.
“Do you like it?” He asked softly, making me think my answer mattered. All the representatives asked the same question at some point in their presentation, checking in to make sure they were honoring the pearl, wary of my wrath—or of their own Ambassador back home. For some reason I couldn’t explain, he’d made the question sound like he wasn’t asking for anyone else’s benefit than his own. Perhaps he’d had more hand in the design of the sim than I’d given him credit for.
I tucked the shell in the tie at my waist, smiled, and covered his palm with mine, quickly hiding my surprise at the electricity there again. “I do. Thank you.”
He laced our fingers. “Will you walk on the beach with me?”
I squeezed his hand like it was the most natural thing in the universe. “Only if it’s a long walk.” The sim curled around me in complete and utter transportation to this beach, a million light years and several lifetimes away from where I’d started this morning.
CHAPTER 6
WITH A YES from her, the sim adapted, swapping out a pair of navy swim trunks for my suit and transforming her silken robes and jewels into a white bikini peeking from beneath a white lace coverup that draped her from shoulders to toes, yet still exposing the swells of her breasts in the plunging neckline and hinting at what lay beneath through the patterned holes in the fabric. I wanted to curse and praise the Samarians. Clothing during the sims was as manipulated and designs as the colors of the fish swimming through the water.
I swallowed and turned away, tugging her forward and along the wet sand of the beach. Her hand was warm in mine and now I regretted linking our fingers together, trapping me and making it impossible to pull away without making it awkward. I’d fully expected her to refuse.
I frowned and ran my free hand through my hair. Maybe she couldn’t? She’d said there was a protocol for the greeting, did that mean that protocol dictated all her responses during the presentation? I hadn’t thought to ask that because how ludicrous of a situation did that put the pearl in if she didn’t have a say in how things went during these things? Dates were supposed to be give and take and the freedom to walk away when it pleased you. That’s what I liked about them. Well, one of the things.
I guess on one hand, trapping her in a protocol kept her here for three days instead of flipping me the bird and marching back to her ship. It also made it damn near impossible to accurately gauge her reactions to things. For all I knew, she hated the beach and couldn’t tell me so. I risked a sideways glance, noting how peacefully content she looked in the moment, the waning sunlight kissing her cheeks and lips with a rose-gold glow. Too bad this was the sweetest most platonic thing I’d ever done with a woman, leaving me no point of reference for whether we were headed toward complete disaster.
This was the first portion of the sim I’d had a hand in and now I wished I’d have requested the databanks that held her other presentations to give me insight into her. So far, I’d had her pegged wrong the entire time.
When they’d bailed me out of the situation with the LinnOw, I’d only paid attention enough to get my freedom. Now I wished I’d asked the Samarians more questions about how this whole thing worked. I’d agreed to ensure Lility picked me, but what if she did? I’d always planned on walking away, figuring any girl who agreed to devote her life to this kind of commitment didn’t have a whole lot going for her. Lility seemed different, like given the opportunity she could be anything. Like Canna.
I cleared my throat and risked another glance at her, catching her staring at me. She didn’t flinch and look away, but smiled.
I returned it and kept walking, the slide of the sand beneath our feet mixing softly with the breaking waves as they slid toward us. After another few feet, I leaned toward her and whispered loudly, “What do you think they talk about on these things?”
She laughed and bent forward as it claimed her body. “I was thinking the same thing.” I let her pull away from me and clasped my hands behind my back. I hadn’t thought through the rest of this part, figured we’d watch the sun set and be on to the next part of the Samarian’s program. If she really was enjoying this as much as she was letting on, I wanted to stretch it as long as we could. She turned, smiling. “What do you want to talk about? Aramo whisky?”
I shook my head. “What do you normally discuss with representatives?”
She sighed and kicked at the froth of a wave that came too close. “Trade routes, their galaxy’s architecture, pending proposals before the courts, our probably first assignment and how we’d manage it together.” The water soaked the lower rim of her coverup but she didn’t squeal and dash out of the water, upset that it was ruining her outfit—as I’d expected, which was turning into the norm. If I was going to make our time together work for my benefit, I had to quit pre-judging her, but it was hard. She was so very different from who I’d planned for. I frowned and she looked up at that moment, misinterpreting my scowl. “We can, I mean, you’re the Samarian, so I wasn’t planning on it anyway, but I don’t mind if we discuss that, I just…” She looked away. “I was enjoying not talking about that stuff.”
My scowl deepened and she caught me again before I could recover at how much she was throwing me off.
“But we can. Okay, um, so odds are the first assignment is going to be a final ruling on the trade routes through the Pai galaxy even though it’s before the council right now. They’re never going to come to a resolution—”
“Lility.” I stepped closer, sliding my fingers beneath her elbow and tugging her closer. She scanned my face, her warm breath tracing the path her eyes made. Another wave crashed into us, drenching us from the waist down. I didn’t move and she didn’t pull away. “I don’t want to talk about that either.”
She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and I held her gaze, too caught up in trying to figure her out. The Samarians had gone out of their way to find me for her. Why? And did it matter. We were here, she wanted to have a good time; if I dropped my curiosity and focused on courting her, maybe I’d have half a chance of being her choice. “What do you want to do?”
I stared at her for far longer than was probably proper, but I couldn’t ignore the way my blood poured through my body, so loud I was certain she could hear it. I wanted to taste her, hold her, draw her closer, ask her why she’d taken on all this responsibility, and what she’d do to me when I walked away. Mostly, I wanted to kiss her.
She wet her lips and I inhaled, my grip on her arm tightening. Then I grinned and let go. “I want to go for a swim.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
I stepped away and ran into the waves, diving into a huge one as it rose up to meet me. The cold water stunned my breath and I relished the silence and shock to my system. What the fuck was I doing, flirting with her like that, grabbing her and lusting after her like she was a common streetswiveler? This was no night with a Bevi bimbal, Dirk. She was the pearl! Get it together.
I rose to the surface, breaking it and exhaling the salt from my mouth and nose. I ran my hands over my hair, sluicing the water down my neck.
Lility stood half in, half out, watching me. I waved her forward but she shook her head. “I dove enough today.”
“Come on.” Was this her first rebellion of the presentation? The thought shot a thrill through me. If she had choices in this, then the last few hours meant something completely different. She’d dove with me because she’d wanted to, she’d let me hold her hand because she’d wanted to. She’d let me almost kiss her because she’d wanted to. Was it too much to ask that she choose me over whoever she’d been discussing t
rade routes with?
She shook her head again. “Let’s keep walking. I’ll come up with something to talk about that isn’t boring politics.”
“Like what?” I swam closer, floating on the surface and walking my fingers along the sandy floor beneath me. Waves caressed my legs then passed my body to do the same to hers. “Entice me.”
She laughed. “That’s your job.” She took half a step back and lifted the skirt of her long coverup, revealing swirling colors on her bare calves.
I stared at her, letting every enticing thing I’d been thinking show. “That drastically changed the direction of this presentation.” The low rumble of my voice thrummed through my chest.
She inhaled swiftly, hand at her throat, and took another step back. Pursuing her, I stood, water running down my bare skin and off my fingers to meet the ocean again. The warm air kissed my wet skin, lifting goosebumps across my body. “I’m game.”
She retreated and I lunged toward her, the waves splashing around us, soaking the white fabric and plastering it against her thighs. She squealed and ran down the shore, hopping over the waves as they receded. “I’ll entice you! I’ll do it!”
I laughed. “Great! That changes it even more!”
She ran out of the water and up the beach, pausing where the wet sand ended only long enough to glance over her shoulder. Her chest heaved with each breath and her hands fluttered to various parts of her body, only lighting for a moment like she couldn’t figure out where to put them. I loved it. “You’re not being very proper.”
“You’d better get used to that if we’re going to hang out—” A flash caught my eye as a wave flowed out and I bent quickly, submerging my arms to the elbows. My fingers sifted through the pile of shells and I withdrew a large Magnif shell, its green and purple shell sparkling brightly against the dark surface of the rocks. Without a word, I marched to the shore and knelt before her, arms outstretched with the offering above my bowed head. “Your Highness.”
Her swift intake of breath pleased me. Her light touch as her fingers took the shell filled me with a warmth that had nothing to do with the sun-heated sand beneath my legs. After a long moment, I lifted my head and watched her watching me, the shell clutched to her chest; confusion reigned over her features and I liked that too, liked that maybe she couldn’t quite figure me out. “Better?”
She nodded. “Maybe somewhere between the two,” she said softly, a smile playing at the corners of her lips.
“Check.” I nodded, stood and retreated to the water, unable to conceal a grin. Waves lapped at my calves and I kept going, searching the seabed for something else to present her with. I wasn’t ready for this part of the presentation to be over yet. She intrigued me more with every moment I spent with her and some of her reactions caught me off guard enough that I wanted to keep it up.
“Favorite color?” I asked, not bothering to look at her.
“Oh! Um, well, I’m not sure I have—”
“Stop being political. There’s no wrong answer, I’m a Samarian, remember.”
If she had a reaction to that, the crash of the waves swallowed it and I fought the urge to look at her, still scanning the ocean bed for something more unique than the Magnif. My grin widened at a fleeting thought of which one would be perfect and I wondered where they’d have put the sim controls here so I could make modifications. No chance they’d have had the foresight for something so obscure as the truest pearl in creation.
“What’s yours?”
“Depends on the day,” I answered, still scanning. “Some days is the inky black of space, other days it’s the orange of a Foley sunrise, every now and then it’s the amber of a—”
There! A thrill shot through me and I dove toward the ocean floor, hoping to grab the shell before it tumbled away. How the hell was it here? Were they watching the presentation and modifying the sim as we went? That was a little more obtrusive than I would have preferred but I supposed it was possible and highly likely. A genius strategy, really, modifying the situation minute by minute to ensure the best possible outcome. Bugged me though if they were doing that, that they didn’t trust me to get the job done. I always got the job done, just not always how everyone wanted it.
And I would get this pearl for her. Bubbles trailed from my nose as I held my breath and kicked myself closer into position. Sand swirled over my fingers but I dug deeper, fighting the current as it tugged my body toward the end of the shelf ten feet away.
I curled one arm around a protruding rock and thrust my fingers below the surface of the sand, digging for the shell. I should have programmed this in from the beginning and made sure it was somewhere easy to grab instead of down here where I was going to run out of air before I extracted it from this perfect hiding spot. My fingers grazed the rounded body and the shell slipped between my fingers and fell into a crevice in the coral out here at the shelf’s edge. I swam over the edge and tried to come at it from another angle, my eyes glued to the spot where I’d last seen it. I wanted this bad.
Forcing the sim to relinquish this price into my hands wouldn’t work, I wanted to battle the sea for this and come up as victor. I kicked my feet, careful not to stir up the bottom and obscure my view.
Now that I was in the sim, I was starting to understand why they’d done it. Beyond being able to manipulate every moment, by creating an alternate reality for us to interact, they’d allowed her a space to be free of the constraints they knew all too well. Waves pounded the top of my head, driving me deeper; my lungs screamed at the need for fresh oxygen. Just… one… more… inch. In here, she wasn’t the pearl. She was a woman, doing silly—possibly even mundane—things like walking on a beach with a simple man. And a human man, at that, one she’d probably had little interaction with since being selected years ago for her jewel training.
They’d given her a gift of time, like one final pause button before duty and honor claimed her every moment.
Which made sense, on some level that I couldn’t relate to, but still didn’t answer the question of why me? Why not just make a rule that the pearl gets a day off before announcing her decision? Seemed simple, but then, politics rarely were. Now I wanted to ask her about it, see if the burden was too much, if she was nervous or scared about giving every spare second of the rest of her life over to ruling the universe.
My fingers closed over the tip of the shell, but it tumbled away with an incoming wave, sliding down a long canyon on the outside of the coral. Salt burned my eyes. I almost had it.
Another wave pulled me out over the abyss and I couldn’t take the pressure on my lungs. I kicked toward the surface, took a fast breath, then dove again, determined to win or die trying.
CHAPTER 7
“DIRK?” I WATCHED the waves, angrier now than they’d been when the sun had first set, like a storm brewed on the far side of some invisible shoreline. I hadn’t thought the bottom was that deep, but now that I stared into the depths, I could make out the tip of the coral and the darker blue water beyond. There must be a big shelf here where the beach fell off. I’d dove them before and with the sets of waves pounding into shore, the outgoing tide created a fierce undercurrent, one that could easily drag a diver out to sea.
I’d thought he was just grabbing something right there off the sand, but when his head had popped up and disappeared again, a sudden pang of fear had shot through me. I waded in until the water reached my thighs. My outer robe was already soaked, but now it was tugging me into the water with each wave. Without taking my eyes off the spot where I’d last seen him, I bent over and rolled the fabric upward, tying it in a dripping knot at my belly.
Shadows moved in the abyss beyond the coral. I clenched my fists, then flattened them again the water. Another wave crashed into me, knocking me back a step. Surely he’d come up again. Surely he was playing, teasing me.
Half a dozen waves came and went, still no Dirk. Sand rushed over my feet as the waves pulled it out and I widened my stance to stay balanced. I picked at the
paint on my fingernails, worrying my thumbnail clean. Where was he?
After another set of waves, I couldn’t take it and stripped off my coverup, tossing it over my shoulder toward the shore and flexed my knees to dive.
He popped up, gasping for breath, his hands cupped against his stomach. I rushed toward him as fast as I could, high-stepping it over the water. When I reached him, I grabbed his arm and shook him. “You scared me to death!”
His eyes widened and the lashes clung together like the spikes of a Rinlok. “Really?”
A rush of embarrassment came over me; I pressed my lips together and dropped my hand.
He licked his lips and ran a hand through his hair, the other still cupped to his stomach. “Are you hurt?” I tried to imbue my words with political concern over a representative instead of the strange emotions that had pulled at different places while he’d been underwater.
“No. Sorry I worried you.” He opened his hand, a Curlyweb filling his cupped palm, its rounded shell curled tightly into a ball.
I stepped closer. “It’s been years since I’ve seen one.”
He slid his other hand beneath and extended both, letting me get a closer look. The black shell shimmered like polished onyx, water droplets beading and sliding off the surface to pool in his hands. I hadn’t seen one of these since I was a child and the reminder both terrified me and made me long for the glee and wonder of a childhood long-since gone.
