The Nazca Lines are a series of ancient geoglyphs located in the Nazca Desert in southern Peru. The hundreds of individual figures range in complexity from simple lines to stylized hummingbirds, spiders, monkeys, fish, sharks, orcas, llamas, and lizards.
– Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia
As busy as her days were with the simulation and her other classes, Jem always took an hour off to be by herself for lunch on the weekends. That day, bundled up in a warm coat, she sat on a park bench, chewing slowly on her sandwich. Her black coat and gloves were dotted with breadcrumbs. The smart thing to do would have been to take the gloves off while eating, but it was too cold. The even smarter thing would have been to eat her lunch indoors where it was warm, but she did not want to miss her monthly appointment.
The squeal of laughing children rang through the park. Trinestra was a quiet, upper-middle class neighborhood popular with professors and graduate students, especially those with families. The neighborhood park was an eternally green expanse of artificial grass—a playground for young children. Every weekend, Jem ate lunch at the park and watched the children play.
In a way, that weekend was no different from any other. It could not look different from any other weekend. A life was at stake.
Jem forced herself to stay in her relaxed pose as a man led his young son into the park. The boy, scarcely older than five, was bundled in a heavy coat, and he wore a cap over a head of red hair. The boy’s mother, heavily pregnant, followed at a distance. With a visible sigh, she sat on a bench as the boy and his father played tag. The boy shrieked, screaming with laughter, when his father tackled him and he collapsed into giggles when his father tickled him.
Lukas was no longer a toddler, trotting on unsteady feet. He had left his infancy behind, and with it, the terrifying memories of being abandoned by his family.
He had probably forgotten her too.
Jem pressed her lips together and told herself that she was happy, even though her chest ached with tears she could not shed.
She brushed the crumbs off her gloves and her jacket before unfolding her astral workstation. SimOne appeared when summoned, her astral image serene and lovely. “What can I do for you, Jem?”
“I’d like to insert something into our planet.”
“A life form?”
Jem shook her head. “No. I’m thinking of a game, perhaps books with hints of mysteries beyond the grasp of the human mind. Deciphering the books will keep the humans occupied in between their wars.”
“How would you like to interface with the humans?”
“Through dreams or drug-induced hallucinations, I don’t care,” Jem said. The lump no longer clogged her throat. The fog of grief and regret no longer clouded her mind. Purpose gave her strength and determination. “This will be an on-going project through the end of the year. I want you to identify possible hosts—humans who will write the books.”
As unorthodox as the request must have seemed to the android, SimOne did not protest. “Certainly. When can I expect an upload of the game data?”
“You won’t. I’ll handle the interface with the humans directly.”
SimOne’s delicate eyebrows drew together in an expression of disapproval. “This does not follow the standard protocols—”
“I’m aware of that.” The information, however, was too important to entrust to anyone. “Just find my hosts, SimOne. I’ll handle everything else.” Jem cut off the communication link with SimOne and leaned against the back of the wooden bench to watch the child at play. She shivered, tugging her coat tightly around her. The wind had a chill that cut to the bone, and the boy’s laughter cut straight to her heart.
That evening, Jem coiled into a comfortable chair in her darkened bedroom, her eyes closed, and the rhythm of her breath steady. Her mind, with SimOne as the neural interface, melded with that of a human from her simulated planet. The joining was simple and flawless, which surprised her, though perhaps it should not have. After all, she had designed her planet’s humans based on the humans of Sylvania who were the dominant species on multiple planets across multiple star systems.
With the concern of a parent and the pride of a creator, she stood back to admire her handiwork. The simulated human mind was fascinating, seemingly filled in equal portions with dark cobwebs of fears as with shining threads of hope. It was messy and cluttered, and therefore, pleasantly familiar. It was also discouraging. I should have designed them better. Instead, they’ve turned out just like me.
At her touch, the simulated human mind quivered, hovering between disbelief and delight. She smiled at its infusion of wonder. Did it think it was touching a greater consciousness, like that of a god? Sorry, it’s just me, a girl with something to prove, and something to protect, and you’re going to help me do it.
She whispered, watching as the simulated human mind seized her words and spun its own visions. She hoped the visions were more dream than nightmare, but both would serve her ends. The human would wake, and he would write. He, and many others across time, would write the manuscripts she demanded.
The mysterious manuscripts would hint of greater truths, but all of them would be lies and decoys, save one which alone would contain the truth of Lukas’s birthright.
Temperatures cooled as the seasons turned and brought with it the promise of the winter vacation and its seasonal festivity, the Genitura. Jem and Kir met up at the simulation laboratory for the last time prior to the semester break.
“Your eastern empire, the one with the ridiculous wall, is still going strong, isn’t it?” Kir asked morosely after they had scanned SimOne’s reports.
“Yup,” Jem said. It was impolite to gloat, but damn, she had earned it.
“How are you planning to stay on top of it through the winter vacation?” he asked.
“We have these little things called ‘communicators,’ and SimOne knows when to alert me. I’ve noticed that you’ve been on top of your empire, too.” The run-in with the Atlante team had apparently convinced Kir that the planet’s inhabitants could not be left to their own devices.
“I’ve watched them more closely, but I haven’t done anything to interfere. Typically, another empire does a good job of picking up the pieces when one falls apart. Not unlike all those dynastic changes happening in your empire.”
“A minor change is typically easier on the people, trust me on that.”
Kir nodded. He seemed out of sorts, his usual good humor missing. “I guess so.”
“Didn’t you get enough sleep?” she asked.
“Huh? Oh, no, not that.” He tried for a smile, but it looked forced. “I’m not looking forward Genitura this year.”
She could not imagine anyone not enjoying Genitura; it celebrated life and love, hearth and home in the heart of the coldest season of the year. “Are you going back home for vacation?”
“Home’s right here,” he said. “What about you?”
“Rio invited me to his home.”
“Are you meeting his parents?” Kir asked, grinning widely.
Jem shrugged and hoped that the gesture did not look as awkward as she felt.
“First time?”
She nodded.
He nodded too, the expression on his face oddly regretful. “Good luck.”
“Thanks.” She twitched through the awkward silence and then asked, “So you’re not going home for the winter celebrations?”
“There’s no home to go back to. My parents passed away last year.”
Her jaw dropped. “Oh…” With some effort, she remembered to close her month. “I’m so sorry. What about Kav? Where does he live?”
“He lives with me now. I managed to get custody of him just as the semester started. That’s when he came in to the laboratory and flooded the planet. Before that, he lived in foster homes for about nine months.”
“That’s rough. I’m sorry.”
“The first couple of weeks back with me were rough, but he’s pretty much over it now, I think. Kids bounce back fast.”
“Yeah. Hey, what are you doing to the planet?” She lunged at him and grabbed his hand.
He stared at the stylus he held and blinked hard. “Sorry. I just got distracted.”
“Next time, get distracted without something in your hand. What the hell are you doing?”
“Drawing. I do that when I’m stressed.” The corner of his mouth tugged up into a smile. “I hope no one down there got hurt.”
Jem peered closer at the planet. “That’s a halfway decent representation of a bird.”
“Considering it was done with little more than a stylus, that’s better than halfway decent. By the way, it’s a heron. The hummingbird is over there.”
“Is that thing over there a spider?” Jem asked.
“Uh huh, and that’s a monkey.”
“What’s with his curly tail?”
Kir shrugged. “I got carried away, I guess.”
Jem snorted. “You know, one day, someone is going to realize that there are monster-sized drawings in the sand, and he’ll spend his entire life speculating on how they got there.”
“Surely there are better things to do with life, but just in case there isn’t, I might as well give them something to get heartburn over.” His grin was wicked.
Jem looked over his shoulder as he traced outlines in the sand. “Is that a person?”
“It’s supposed to be a Tujunga humanoid. See the big eyes?”
“Your bird pictures are great. The Tujunga, not so much.”
“It’s stylized,” he protested.
“Juvenile is more like it. Kav could do better,” she said with humor instead of heat.
Kir squinted at his work of art. “It’s probably true. So, are you heading out at the end of this week after class?”
“Yes, I am. I’ll be spending a week with Rio, then I’ll be back.”
“Back here? So soon? The vacation is a full three weeks. Aren’t you going home?”
“Probably not this time,” Jem said. She kept her voice casual, the tone light. “Communicators notwithstanding, I’m not really comfortable letting the simulation run on its own for that long.”
“I’m here. I’ll keep an eye on the simulation. If you want, I can even come in every day and take a peek.”
She shook her head. “It’s your vacation too. It’s just a week. It’ll be fine.”
Try as she might, Jem could not purge the memory of the quiet sadness in Kir’s eyes when he had talked about Genitura and his home, or the lack thereof. It plagued her while she was packing for her all-important visit with Rio’s family. Finally driven to distraction, she did what she always did when faced with a problem—she tried to fix it.
It led to her standing outside the door of Kir’s apartment. Jem tugged nervously at her coat, her shoulders subtly hunched against the chill night air. To say that she felt stupid and awkward would have been an incredible understatement. She could not believe the amount of willpower she had to dredge up before she could ring the doorbell, or the amount of willpower it took not to run away.
The door opened before she could change her mind. “Jem?” Kir asked. He looked comfortable in an old sweater and a faded pair of trousers. “Are you all right? What are you doing here?”
“Ah, I…don’t need to come in. I wanted to drop this bag off.” She held out a large bag filled with boxes of various sizes.
“Come in. You look cold. I can fix you a drink.” Kir reached out, caught her by the wrist, and tugged her into his apartment. “Come on, sit down. Kav, we have a guest,” he shouted and then walked barefoot toward the kitchen.
Kir’s apartment, one of many that housed students on the campus, was not unlike hers in layout, though it was—as she had expected—messy. Toys and books were scattered over the colorful rugs, and a hot dinner was on the stove. It was the home of a young man, scarcely out of his teenaged years, trying to care for a young child.
Kav came running out of one of the bedrooms and skidded to a stop when he saw her. He chewed on his lower lip and then looked at his brother.
“It’s all right, Kav,” Kir assured him. “Cider for you?” He offered Jem a cup of a honey-brown liquid. Steam rose from its surface, melting the accompanying dollop of whipped cream.
The scent of familiar spices wafted around her, evoking memories of pleasant evenings spent in front of the fireplace. She inhaled deeply and relaxed into a smile as she accepted the cup. “Yes, thank you.”
Kir sat across from her. “Are you all right?” he asked again, his brow furrowing.
“Yes, yes, I’m fine. I wanted to bring this bag over since I’m leaving tomorrow morning and won’t see you again until after Genitura.” With a nudge of her boot, she pushed the bag toward him. “It’s just a small thing or two for you and Kav.”
“Presents!” Kir pounced on the bag. “Hey, Kav, Jem brought presents! Check them out!”
Kav rushed forward, and Jem prudently held her cup of cider away from the child as he threw himself over the brightly wrapped gifts. The little boy’s eyes lit with delight. “So many presents!”
“Not until the eve of the celebration,” Kir warned. “Put them next to your bed.”
“Please, Kir. Just one…”
Kir looked at her. Jem shrugged and smiled.
Kir relented. “Fine, just one.”
“Cool!” Kav grabbed one of the gifts and started tearing through the paper.
Kir smiled. “Thanks for the gifts. It means a lot that you thought about us.”
“It’s nothing.” She stared down at her boots. It was easier than meeting his penetrating gaze. “I thought he’d like them.”
“That’s not remotely in doubt,” Kir said, wincing as utter chaos broke out.
Kav ran around the house, his new spaceship toy hovering over his head, keeping pace with him. “Look, Kir. I have an alien friend! Look!”
“I see.” Kir gave Jem a dirty look that by now she had come to recognize as good humor. “You couldn’t find anything without lights and sounds, could you?”
“It’s too hard to find toys without lights and sounds.”
“Thank you.”
She shrugged. “You’re welcome.”
“No, really. Thank you.” Kir seemed to hesitate before reaching out to touch her hand. He waited until she looked up and met his gaze. “Our parents were killed in a transporter accident on the eve of Genitura, and I’m glad Kav will have something else to think about this season.”
She flushed. Gratitude made her nervous, as did his direct stare. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s not ‘nothing.’ Thank you. Thank you for thinking about us.”
Kir’s simple appreciation lingered with Jem as she dressed for dinner the following evening, but not even the warmth of the memory could tug her from her introspective mood. She looked up and smiled wanly at Rio’s reflection in the mirror as he strode into the guest suite.
He looked dashing in his formal dark gray evening suit, his golden hair slicked back in the latest style. Rio grinned. “Aren’t we quite the pair?”
Jem’s critical gaze shuttled between him and her own reflection. She wore an emerald green evening gown that would have complemented her real color far better, but just then, with her short, spiky hair and ordinary features, she looked like a street punk dressing up as a princess. She sighed, her shoulders sagging in a concession of defeat.
Rio pressed a kiss to her cheek. “It’s all right. My parents aren’t ogres.”
“Could it be because ogres went out of style together with fairy tales?” She tugged up the zip on her dress and then smoothed down the silky material. “Big dinner parties aren’t my forte.”
“It’s not big. It’s just seven people at dinner. Come on. You look great.” He paused. “Are you sure you don’t want to go as yourself?”
She glared at him. “I am myself.”
Rio slid a hand into a pocket, his pose casual. “You know what I mean.”
Jem strove to keep her voice even. Rio wanted the beautiful and elegant Livia Jemeran Meira, not the scrappy college student, Jem Moran. I just can’t win. “I like Jem Moran, and I’m not in the mood to be the real me today.” If I even knew the real me…
Rio shook his head. “Someday, you’ll have to be.”
Well, she intended to push the day of reckoning as far into the future as possible. “I’m going as me. This me.”
Rio conceded without further argument and without any apparent distress. He took her hand and escorted her from the guest suite of his parents’ home. They walked down the curved staircase together and into a formal sitting room. Rio’s family home was an older mansion, anchored on the ground instead of floating on anti-gravity platforms. That fact alone was testament to great wealth; the rest of the house overflowed with evidence of it. Crystal chandeliers and delicate porcelain vases—remnants from an older age where beauty was appreciated for its own sake—accentuated the interior of the home. It was, in Jem’s opinion, an excessive display of wealth, but at least it was tasteful.
“Ah, Rio, there you are. Our guests have arrived.” Rio’s mother, Sare, took him by the arm and guided him toward the three people standing by the blazing fireplace, leaving Jem to follow. “You remember Senator Helden, Lady Keyes-Helden, and their daughter Calliste, of course? You used to play together as children.”
That young woman, Calliste, had to be an android. The long blond waves that framed her face and fell past her shoulders could not be real, nor could the sky-blue eyes and perfectly shaped pouty lips.
Calliste’s eyes narrowed. Her expression transformed from speculative to possessive.
Jem stifled a chuckle. Never mind, Calliste was human. She was most definitely human.
Rio grinned at Calliste. “Of course. How are you? You look spectacular.”
“It’s been awhile, Rio,” Calliste said, her voice a sultry drawl as she extended her hand to Rio.
Rio brushed his lips over the perfectly manicured fingertips. He then turned slightly. “This is Jem Moran. Jem, Calliste Helden, Lady Keyes-Helden, and Senator Helden.”
With a smile fixed on her face, Jem shook their hands. “Good evening.” She tried not to flinch, though it was hard to keep her smile steady under their critical glances.
“Shall we go in to dinner?” Sare Loren suggested and led the way toward the dining room.
Jem was seated between Sare Loren and Lady Keyes-Helden, and she listened in silence as the conversation bustled around her. Sare Loren and Lady Keyes-Helden had many common acquaintances and seemed determined to share the life histories of each. On the other side of the table, Rio’s father, Laird Loren, engaged Senator Helden in a discussion on politics, leaving Rio and Calliste to entertain each other with witty banter.
Jem ate in silence, tasting little of her food. She supposed that she was technically capable of jealousy, but rationality had always been her strong suit. Calliste Helden had nothing on Livia Jemeran Meira, and was therefore not worth the bother. Instead, Jem’s mind ran in circles, spinning with frustration over what was clearly going to be a wasted week spent in Rio’s home. Neither of Rio’s parents seemed interested in talking to her. She could have been at the university, immersed in her simulation. She had so much more work to do with the manuscripts—
“You young folks appear to be having a good time,” Sare said to her son as the main course was cleared away. “What are you talking about?”
“Calliste was just telling me that she’s been accepted into the Academy,” Rio said.
“You have?” Sare beamed at the golden-haired young woman. “Congratulations. Rio’s headed there next year too. You’ll be classmates.”
Calliste smiled, radiant. “Yes, it’ll be a wonderful experience.”
“The next generation of leaders is stepping up to the challenge of governing the many colonies in the Etherian quadrant. Exactly what we need, wouldn’t you say so, Laird?”
“Indeed. They’re examples of what should be. So many young people out there follow their heart in college and don’t think about what they need to do to build the future for themselves and society.” Laird Loren looked directly at Jem, as if criticizing her decision to major in Biology and Philosophy.
Jem resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Her choice of majors was irrelevant. Only death would allow her to escape her inevitable future in planetary government.
Rio chuckled. “If all goes well, Jem may join me at the Academy too.”
“Isn’t she just an undergraduate, Rio, and a Biology and Philosophy major?” Sare looked at Jem as if she were a quaint virus under a microscope. “I thought that the Academy only accepts graduate students with backgrounds in government affairs.”
Rio grinned at Jem. “Jem is in the World Simulation program. All students in that class are automatically considered for accelerated acceptance into the Academy, based on their performance in the simulation.”
“The World Simulation program?” Senator Helden looked at Jem, and for the first time, she did not feel the critical weight of his gaze.
“Yes, sir,” Jem said.
“That program is very prestigious. I wasn’t even aware they accepted undergraduates,” the senator said.
“There are only two in the program.”
“Impressive, very impressive, Jem. How are you doing in the program?”
Oh, we nearly drove our world to extinction several times in under a week. My teammate’s younger brother almost drowned it. I poisoned its longest river with my blood. We managed to disentangle ourselves from a galactic conflict, but in the process, were responsible for wiping out another planet. And that’s just the good news. Did you want to hear the bad news too? “We’re doing fine. Our planet is still…very young. We’re not quite into interplanetary travel just yet.”
Calliste smirked. “That’s a shame.”
“Those young planets are the best to work with,” the senator said as if he had not heard his daughter speak. “You still have a chance of shaping its direction before the heated influences from the rest of the universe prevail against cooler heads. I want to hear how you’re doing. Will you keep me informed?”
“Yes, of course.”
Rio grinned across the table at her. He looked proud of her.
Jem almost forgave him.
Jem escaped the dinner gathering as soon as she could, though it was several hours longer than she would have liked. To her surprise, Rio bid Calliste and her parents good evening, and then followed Jem upstairs to her guest suite.
“I thought dinner went well,” Rio said. He leaned against the doorframe, a satisfied smile on his lips.
Jem rolled her eyes. Had he been at the same dinner she had attended?
“You definitely made a good impression on the senator,” he said.
“Your parents don’t like me.”
“They don’t like any girl I bring home.”
Jem scowled at her reflection in the mirror. If she had used her real looks, she would have fared better, but what was the point? Her gaze shifted, and she glared at Rio’s reflection instead. “So why did you bring me home? Why put both of us through this misery?”
He laughed. “I don’t consider spending time with you ‘misery.’ I’ve missed you. You’ve been at your laboratory for days and nights.”
She dragged her fingers through her hair, the gesture born of frustration. “The simulation is a total time suck, and the planet is a pain in the ass.”
“It’s a good thing you didn’t say that to the senator, though I think he’d understand. The rest of us talk about planetary government, but the senator is the only person who really knows what it means. After him, you’ve got the next best imitation of it.”
“Whatever.” She shrugged him off. “Your parents like Calliste.”
“They like the idea of being connected with Senator Helden. I happen to know that my mother doesn’t like Calliste.”
Jem’s eyes narrowed. “Is it always so complicated with you wealthy types?”
“No, I think Mother likes to complicate things just because she’s a woman.”
“I’m a woman.”
“I don’t think of you that way.”
Shock flared through her, followed by a hard punch of pain. She spun around, but Rio reached out and grabbed her hand before she could stalk away.
He shook his head. “No, wait, I didn’t mean it that way. I just wanted to say that you’re a part of my life now, a part of me. I don’t really think of you a separate and discrete entity.”
“This is looking pretty separate and discrete to me.” Jem yanked her hand out of his and turned her back on him.
“You could give a guy an easier time when he’s trying to propose.”
She stopped short. She didn’t say anything. She couldn’t, not with her throat locking up from a potent combination of fear and disbelief.
Jem heard the soft rustling of sound behind her. “I know this is dreadfully old-fashioned, but I wanted to do it this way,” Rio said. He took her hand and slipped a ring onto her finger. She allowed herself to be turned around and stared at the ring she now wore, a tear-shaped sapphire surrounded by small diamonds.
Rio went down on one knee. “Will you marry me?”
“I…why?”
Rio chuckled. “Only you would ask why. Because you’re cute and adorable, and you’re beautiful when you smile. You’ve got a brain like a laser and a viciously sharp sense of humor that shows up only when you’re relaxed. You hate social interactions, but you attend them anyway because I asked. Those are just the perks, though. The real reason I want to marry you is because my brain has finally figured out that you’re an extension of me.”
“Huh?”
“That was very ineloquent, even for you. I’ve always needed to be alone to recharge my energy. The social interactions are as draining for me as they are for you, even though I look like I’m handling them far better. I knew you were the one when I realized that I no longer needed to be really alone to recharge. Being with you is like being alone for me.”
She narrowed her eyes at him.
“That didn’t come out right, did it?” Rio asked with a sheepish smile.
Jem shook her head. “No, but I understood it.” Nowhere in his declaration of love had he mentioned or even implied Livia Jemeran Meira. Had she finally found someone who wanted Jem Moran? She threw her arms around him and held him tight.
Rio returned the hug with equal fervency. “Is that a yes?”
She smiled through the tears trickling down her face. “Yes.”
The week she spent with Rio offered a much-needed break from the endless grind of the simulation, though she checked in daily with SimOne, who apparently had no planetary disasters to report. Jem was briefly assuaged, until she realized that her definition of “major disaster” likely differed from SimOne’s definition of “major disaster.” Jem spent an hour or two each day scanning the reports that SimOne dutifully delivered, but it appeared that SimOne was right. The planet was thriving in spite of, or perhaps because of the neglect from their questionable managers.
Jem, nevertheless, went back to work the day she returned to the university even though the winter break would last for another two weeks. The classroom, as she had expected, was empty except for the android. It was just as well she had called ahead to have SimOne meet her. Jem was not afraid of the simulation laboratory, but the universe could feel dreadfully cold and empty if she knew that she was the only one in there.
She smiled at the android. “Good evening, SimOne.”
“Good evening. Did you have a good vacation?”
“Yes, I did. Thank you. Did you have a break, too?”
“I was at maintenance. The technicians refused to implement the sarcasm program that Kir Davos requested. They insist that no such program exists.”
“It’s a conspiracy,” she told the android. “They just don’t want to give it to you.”
“Should I report them to the university’s Android Oversight Committee?”
“Sounds like a great idea,” Jem said, straight-faced, and then nodded at the door of the laboratory. “Let’s go.”
It was miserably cold in the simulation laboratory, far colder than she had remembered. “Is there any way you can warm up this place, SimOne?”
“No, I cannot. Raising the ambient heat of the universe will throw off the planetary heat regulation systems and lead to global warming.”
“Got it. Bad idea. How’s my little eastern empire doing?”
“Brilliantly. Two succeeding dynasties have driven technology and culture to its zenith. Philosophy and the arts have prospered. The population doubled within a hundred star revolutions as a result of expanded agriculture and the production of abundant food surpluses. There are now in excess of a hundred million people within your borders.”
Jem looked down with surprise at her little empire. It was not so little anymore. “Maybe I should take a vacation more often. How is Kir’s western empire doing?”
“Poorly.”
“What?”
“A period of cultural and economic deterioration followed the decline of his fourth empire.”
“Is his empire gone?” Jem asked.
“The vassal states have broken away. In contrast, another empire is rising to the south and it is flourishing. Its philosophers, scientists, and engineers have contributed enormously to technology and culture, both by preserving earlier traditions and by adding their own inventions and innovations. Scientific and intellectual achievements have blossomed.”
“So, you’re saying that two out of three empires are doing well, and one less so.”
“Precisely.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?” Jem asked.
“That would depend on your point of view,” Kir said as he walked toward them. “How was your vacation?”
“Good.” She shoved her hands into her coat pockets, as much to keep them warm as to conceal her engagement ring from him.
“I’ve been thinking about my empire, wondering whether to intervene,” Kir said.
She arched an eyebrow in mock surprise. “You, really? You’ve finally decided to do something?”
He shook his head. “I thought about it, but decided not to. We need an experiment to determine whether empires are drivers or roadblocks of innovation.”
She waved her hand at the planet. “The evidence would suggest that empires are drivers of innovation.”
“You weren’t saying the same thing when your first emperor burned all the books.”
She shrugged. “A necessary though temporary measure. What’s your point?”
“Risk diversification. Empires rise or fall on the whim of a single person. Under benevolent and enlightened rulers, they soar, which is what the eastern and southern empires are doing now. Under weak rulers, they collapse, as the western one did, and when they do, it’s not pretty. They drag vast areas of their empire under with them.”
Jem snorted. Great. She would have to work on adding “benevolent” and “enlightened” to her personality profile. No pressure there either. She refocused on Kir with a scowl. “So?”
“So, I’m diversifying. I’m spreading out the risk across many small countries in the hope that not all of them will be pathetic at the same time. If an idea fails in one country, it may have a chance of succeeding in another.”
“Competition.”
“Precisely.” Kir grinned. “I’m creating competition.”
Jem rolled her eyes. “You mean war.”
“Sometimes, but not necessarily. Competition isn’t a bad thing. You, of all people, should know that.”
“So you’re okay with your empire falling apart?”
“I like to think of it as an interim state on the way to something better.”
“Which is?”
“I haven’t decided yet. The rest of my brain is still on vacation,” Kir confessed.
Jem folded her arms across her chest and glowered at him, her eyes narrowed. “We need a plan.”
Kir chuckled. “Plan. Right. It seems I’ve heard you mention something like that before. How about we put one together over dinner?”
“Why?”
“Because I need to eat at some point, and it’s cold in here. Besides, I owe you one for helping me salvage Genitura for a little boy.”
She smiled faintly. “All right.”
Kir looked at the android. “Coming, SimOne?”
The android’s blue eyes widened.
Jem laughed softly. Kir had done the impossible. He had shocked the android into silence.
“Yes, I will come,” SimOne said.
“Shall we head back to my place?” Kir suggested. “I can cook something up, and we can talk over dinner.”
“Sure. I’ll just let Rio know.” She turned on her personal device and sent Rio a quick message.
“Nice ring,” Kir said quietly as they walked out of the laboratory together, SimOne trailing along behind them.
Jem glanced at it and flushed. “Thank you.”
“It looks like dinner with his parents went well.”
“Dinner was actually a disaster.”
“Well, we’ve got lots of experience turning disasters into successes. Congratulations. Have you set a date?”
“Not yet. We thought we’d wait and see how the simulation turns out. Rio’s been accepted to the Academy, and if I do well enough here, I might get in too.”
“That explains the obsession with winning.”
Jem’s eyes narrowed sharply. “Wanting to win the simulation and attend the Academy has nothing to do with Rio.”
“Then what?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
Jem shook her head and changed the subject. “Where’s Kav?” she asked as she stepped into Kir’s quiet apartment.
“At daycare. I dropped him off when I went down to the lab to meet you.”
“Bring him home. He can have dinner with us, right?”
Kir arched his eyebrows. “Are you sure? Won’t it be too chaotic?”
Jem shrugged. “There’s no planet to spill water on. How chaotic could it be?”
“Okay, great. I’ll call the center. They’ll bring him home.”
Jem glanced over her shoulder. SimOne stood in the center of the living room and looked completely out of place. “Is this the first time you’ve been to a residence?” Jem asked the android.
“Yes. I am an academic android. My experiences thus far have been limited to the university.”
“And to dirty oyster bars,” Jem added.
“Yes, and to dirty oyster bars.”
“Well, relax. It’s going to be hard enough eating dinner with you just looking on.”
“I have not been programmed to understand or appreciate the virtue of eating.”
“Depending on the cook, it may have more or less virtue,” Kir said as he put down his personal device. “In this case, it’ll tend toward less. Kav will be here in about twenty minutes. I’m going to get dinner started. We should talk before he gets here because we may not be able to after he arrives.”
Jem leaned against the wall and watched him move around the tiny kitchen with efficient grace. “So, the plan…”
“Right, the plan.”
“Where exactly are we going with this?” she asked.
“I thought you knew.”
“Very funny, Kir. We’re in the middle of the course, and our humans are finally starting to get a glimmer of inspiration, sans Atlante interference. We can’t shut out the rest of the universe forever. We need to start thinking about how to integrate their influence without freaking our people out.”
“Consider them freaked. They’ve seen Niseag, by the way,” Kir said, a chuckle in his voice.
“What?”
“Apparently, Niseag mistook a human for a midday snack. Several of the human’s companions got away, and it’s now officially known that a water beast exists.”
Jem pressed her lips together to keep her mouth from twitching into a smile. “You’re having way too much fun with this.”
“Got to get fun from somewhere,” he agreed. “But, as you were saying: the plan?”
“We can’t have a portion of the planet lagging behind. We’ll need to get your part up to par again.”
“My part?”
“Yes, the remnants of your fallen empire.”
“Honestly, my preference is to leave it alone. There are two flourishing empires. You can work with those. The remnants of my empire will find its own way.”
“It’s not working, Kir. What will it take to convince you that indifference is not the way?”
“And what will it take to convince you that these humans we’ve created are smart enough to figure things out on their own? We’re not going to be around forever. Our job is to diversify the risk, not breathe their air for them. The sooner the humans figure out how to think for themselves, how to get into trouble, and how to get out of it, the better it’ll be for them and us.”
Jem scowled and shook her head. “There are appropriate levels of independence. You don’t give a toddler the launch codes for a space shuttle. The humans aren’t ready.”
“And they never will be if you keep coddling them. We’re halfway through this course. When are you going to start letting go? The day before graduation? Suddenly letting go of the reins is the surest way to drive human society to collapse.”
Jem rolled her eyes at him.
Kir sighed. “Look, I know you want a plan. I’d be happy to sit down and help you come up with a plan for your empire and the southern one too. But the west? I say we just leave it alone.”
The doorbell rang. Jem pushed away from the wall, went to the door, and opened it. “Hi there, Kav.”
“Hi, Jem. Hi, Jem. Hi, Jem,” he greeted cheerfully as he dashed into the apartment. “Let me show you all my cool new toys and books.”
“Sure.” She let him take her by the hand.
Interacting with a child was not as difficult as she had feared. Kav was more than happy to fill the silence with chatter, and all she had to do was fill in the gaps with the appropriate sound of approval. After the toy inspection, he had wanted her to read to him. She could do that, too. In less time than she had expected, Kir called them to the table for dinner.
The meal was simple, but tasty and filling. SimOne was quiet, but the alert glow in her blue eyes confirmed that she was paying close attention. What was she learning, Jem wondered, and more importantly, was SimOne allowed to learn it, or had that part been deliberately omitted from her programming?
“The plan?” Jem asked deliberately once dinner was done.
Kir chuckled. “Damn, but you’re tenacious.”
“What good is an experiment if you can’t actually draw meaningful comparisons from it? We have two empires at their height and one cluster of countries down in the dump. That’s not comparable. They’re not starting in the same place.”
Kir sighed. “Fine. I give up. If it’s going to make you happy, I’ll focus on getting the remnants of my former empire up to par, and then I’ll turn them loose to run and see where they go. Happy now?”
“Can I go to the lab tomorrow, please, Kir?” Kav asked. “I promise I won’t spill water.”
Kir snorted. “That would be because you’re not getting anywhere near the planet with water.”
“Can I go, please?”
Kir looked over at Jem and then at SimOne.
Jem concealed a chuckle. Kav was such a sweetheart; his eyes were large and pleading, and his smile winsome. Jem shrugged, and SimOne did a reasonably good job of mimicking Jem’s shrug.
Kir hesitated and then said, “Sure. Just for a while. Don’t let me regret it, okay, Kav?”