“Why?”
“For taking his past away.”
Thane looks confused. “But that’s its purpose. Why would anyone want the past back?”
Aris shrugs. Like Thane, she doesn’t see the point. Tabula Rasa is the reason they have peace.
“Although you should have seen the expression on the guy he grabbed. He was looking at his watch and wasn’t paying attention.” She couldn’t help but laugh.
“That’s not funny. Disturbing the peace in the Four Cities is an offense.”
Aris scrunches her nose.
“Listen,” Thane says, “I have something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
Her watch beeps.
“Sorry.” She glances at it and smiles at the message.
“Something good?”
“Looks like I have a date tomorrow night,” she says.
“Another first date?”
“Are there others worth having?” She remembers. “You have something to ask me?”
“Uh, when can you do docent duty again?”
She rolls her eyes and walks off, leaving Thane to the collection of dead animals.
Metis’s practiced hands move in quick, successive motions. His fingers are like waves as they travel across the ocean of azure paper, changing its shape in a choreographed dance he has made countless times this cycle. He finds the task meditative—a meandering journey from one thought to another, to different places and times.
Always, the path leads him to the same face. Her face. It rises like a phoenix from the ashes of dreams.
“You see that over there? That’s called the Summer Triangle,” she said, holding his finger and drawing with it an imaginary triangle.
In the nature preserve on the outskirts of the Four Cities, they can see the night sky in all its magnificence.
“What are the stars?” he asked.
“Altair, Deneb, and Vega, the brightest stars in their constellations.” Silence followed before she continued, “You should really get to know Vega. It’s the next most important star in the sky after the Sun.”
“Oh yeah?”
“It’s the second brightest star in the northern hemisphere. It was the northern pole star around 12,000 BC and will be again around the year 13,700.”
“Do you think we’ll still be around?” he asked.
“No, we’ll be long dead.”
“I meant humanity.”
She laughed. “I know that’s what you meant. It’s such a human-centric question. But whatever I say would just be a guess.”
He touched the tip of her chin and turned it to face him.
“I’ll still be around,” he whispered.
She made a sound in her throat that implied her skepticism.
“My soul will fly to Vega. I’ll be watching over you for eternity.” He pressed his lips on hers. Her skin was warm from the summer heat, making her scent all the more intoxicating. She smelled like lavender, sweet and grassy.
She pulled away. One side of her lips curled into a smile. Without another word, she climbed on top of him, her hands on his chest. Her body overwhelmed the sky, just as she did his heart. His hands traveled to her waist, encircling it. The thinness of her body felt fragile in his hands.
“Sweet husband,” she said, “If anyone’s going to be doing the looking down, it’ll be me. You’re staying here with me until we become stardust when the earth collapses.”
Metis folds one side of the paper down, making a triangle shape. He runs the top of his nail along the edge to form a sharp crease. He picks the folded form up with one hand and pulls at the tail with another. A crane, the bird of happiness, appears. He places it on the wooden table, joining it with the rest of the flock as blue and freeing as the sky.
Chapter Five
Aris plays with a corner of the tablecloth. The feel of the crisp material against her index finger relaxes her. Linens in expensive restaurants have the best texture. Her date chose the place.
Golden light shines through a perforated metal ceiling, creating geometric patterns on the floor below. The walls are a combination of rough-hewn granite and dark taupe paint. Thick mahogany tables paired with tailored chairs in soft mohair are strategically placed in the intimate space to give each table privacy.
She takes a sip of red wine and looks around. The restaurant is popular with couples. Aris loves first dates. There are few things more enjoyable than the thrill of discovering a new person. It’s like unwrapping a present—before discovering the flaws, the nasty habits, the trite dramas. For that reason, she doesn’t do second dates.
A serial first dater, Thane once called her. Why not, when the food is always better? She looks at the dinner menu and gasps at the entertainment points for each item. She thinks she will forego dessert this time.
A black-and-white-clad server droid assigned to her table comes by with a pitcher of water and refills her half-empty glass.
“May I take your order?” he asks.
“I’m still waiting for my date.”
He’s fifteen minutes late.
The droid stares at her blankly, his eyes unblinking.
“Come back when he’s here, please,” she says.
The droid nods and walks off. Even though their eyes and smiles lack the warmth of humans, Aris likes them. They do not judge. The Planner created them to serve the functions no humans wanted to—waiting on other humans and cleaning up after them. Together with the AIs, they run the infrastructure and maintain consistencies in the Four Cities. They are what allow the four-year cycle to work.
The energy in the room changes. She looks up and sees a tall man entering the room. Heads turn as he passes. The light from the ceiling catches his golden-brown hair, and Aris catches her breath. He sees her and smiles.
He makes his way toward her, strolling with the calmness of someone walking through an art museum. Her heart skips a beat, and she thanks the accuracy of her proclivity tests.
One of the pretty ones.
She wonders if he’s an artist. The best of them live in the city of Lysithea, in a section with beautiful and grand Victorian “Painted Ladies.” The painters, the sculptors, the poets, the actors, the musicians. In the Four Cities, where creativity is celebrated, the good ones are discovered quickly. The great ones become stars.
He stops
