Aur Child

Tieri-Na woke up on the beach to the warm touch of a rising tide on her toes. She vaguely recalled that she and Calliope had come to this enchanted cove the night before to swim in the phosphorescent waters under the sharply tipped glow of a magnified crescent moon – Tieri’s choice. Nestled in the soft bend of her arm and still asleep was Calliope. The azure waters within the barrier reef lapped gently against white sand. Tropical birds flew about in the soft dawn light. A scent of luscious fruits tickled her nose. She tenderly bent her arm to run Calliope’s shimmering locks through the pinch of her fingers. Tieri had been a visitor at Yellow Reserve so long that she no longer sought celestial confirmation of the true moon phase.

“Have you been awake long?” Calliope said, lifting her head to reveal drowsy eyes.

“No, I just woke. I think I had a dream. Or a memory. I’ve been thinking about it.”

Calliope pushed herself up and swept the fine sand from her olive skin.

“What about?”

Tieri held her breath for a moment. The reflection of the dawn sun across the lagoon now glinted off their curve. “My sister.”

Calliope’s eyes widened. “Your sister?” She grabbed Tieri’s hand and squeezed gently. “Tieri, you’ve never told me about your family before. Actually, you’ve never told me anything about your life on Earth before. All this time I’ve hoped you would share something with me.”

Tieri smiled at Calliope. She stared into the eyes that she had learned to trust over many cautious trials and felt a warmth come over her that she could not refuse. It was true; Calliope had been patient. She had earned that trust. If she was wrong, if Calliope was still just an automaton for Freyja, then Tieri could not find evidence of it anywhere. It had been a long time since she even looked for it. They had shared so much together. And now, Tieri felt ready to share with her the missing keystone.

“A sister, an uncle, who you already know about, and my parents, who left us when we were very young.”

“You lived in the forest together, you and your sister?”

“Yes. At first with the elders in a village. Then with our uncle, Rik-Na, who has always taken good care of us. And then, when we were old enough to take care of ourselves, there in our parents’ cottage.” Tieri dragged her heel in the moist sand and propped up one leg. “We raised one another in that home. We were a family.”

Calliope drew her fingertips along Tieri’s arm, caressing the soft, pearl-white skin with its translucent waves of tiny, silken hair.

“I imagine you miss her very much,” she said.

“I worry for her, Calliope.” Tieri looked into Calliope’s eyes. “For her safety and health, being alone, but mostly because she knows nothing about what happened to me. Perhaps she thinks I am dead.”

Calliope replied in her characteristically objective way. “Perhaps she does,” she said.

Ripples of the crystal sea now reached the ends of their gowns, rewetting their hem. Small holes appeared in the sand beneath retreating water from which crabs grabbed their breaths.

“Couldn’t I see her? Go to her somehow? Or just tell her I am okay. Tell her not to worry.”

Calliope slowly shook her head. Her eyes glistened with the start of tears. “It’s impossible, I’m afraid. You’re here now. And she … she wouldn’t understand any of it anyway.”

Tieri rolled over to her side and then lifted herself up to meet Calliope at the same level.

“But what about my body?” she asked. “It’s still there, in stasis. Can’t I use it to see her?”

“It’s forbidden. Freyja would never allow it.”

“But you could ask. You told me you’re expected to monitor me and report back to her. I don’t know, maybe I’m not a good fit here. You could say it would be better to return me to Earth.”

“Tieri … no. It just doesn’t work like that.”

Tieri frowned. The opportunities within this world were so magnificent, so infinite, that it was easy to carry on for immeasurable swaths of time without remembering the cruel fact that she was nothing more than a prisoner in a tiny box.

“But won’t you at least try? Perhaps I’d feel better if I knew that the cause of this all was beyond both of our control.”

Now Calliope was crying. Small sobs surfaced from behind the flush skin of her bronzed chest. Tieri directed her attention from her own feelings to Calliope’s. She reached out to smear away a tear rolling down Calliope’s face. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

Calliope’s sobs grew at this inquiry. She reached her hands out to invite a hug, but the desperation of it scared Tieri. It was the kind of embrace one would offer when saying goodbye.

“What’s wrong?” Tieri repeated.

“Oh, Tieri!” Calliope’s eyes swarmed with tears, “You are such a kind person. You have been so wonderful to me. So trusting. I have tried, I have really tried to reciprocate. You know, I have broken so many rules to be with you. I don’t know how it’s possible. I … I can’t explain it, but I did it. I ignored them, and I bent them, and I broke them, and I don’t care. I’ve misled Freyja. I’ve been unfaithful to Apollo. I don’t care. I did it for you, for us. For that splendid thing…us. And I would do it again. You must believe me. I would do anything for you. Anything that I can.”

Tieri was shaking her head. She heard these words, she felt them as genuine, and she wanted to immerse herself in them, to celebrate their tenderness, but it didn’t make sense.

“But … if you’d do anything, then why wouldn’t you ask Freyja to let me return to my body. Even if you know she’ll say no?”

Calliope buried her face in her hands. She lost control of herself in heavy sobs. After a few moments, she sucked in several gulps of air and said, “Because it wouldn’t matter.”

“To me it would.”

“Oh, Tieri, I should have said so earlier. I really should have found a way to do it. But I just couldn’t. I tried but I just couldn’t.”

Tieri lowered her arms to her lap. Her forehead furrowed and chin hung low. She pushed out her lower lip in a pouting expression with eyes fixed on Calliope. A lightness gurgled in her stomach.

“Couldn’t tell me what?” She asked, her voice barely audible.

Calliope straightened her back so that her delicate shoulders leveled to the sandy beach. She swallowed hard.

“Tell you, that your body has been lost.”

“Lost?” Tieri asked, her mouth hung open in confusion.

“Yes. It was employed for a mission by Guests to search for Aur boules. They should have returned weeks ago. All we have is a brief message that says that the condition of the crew, which included the exosoul who occupied your body.”

“What did the message say?”

Calliope gulped again for air, and then, in an exasperated exhale, “Terminal.”

Tieri stood up. She looked down at her body and then out over the sea. She watched the waves come in and calmly reach up to her feet. They sank in the moist sand so that the medium engulfed her body from the ankles down. Then, she turned to look at Calliope. The artificially intelligent entity sat in the moist sand with her head bent down crying in spasms.

“I can see how you’re looking at me right now, Tieri,” she said, choking on her tears. “And I’m so sorry for that.”

“Who was it?” Tieri asked.

“Who was what?”

“Who was in my body?”

“I can’t tell you, Tieri. And it makes no difference.”

“Why not? You’ve broken all kinds of rules telling me all about the Guests. All their habits and all their goings-on. Why can’t you now tell me one name?”

Calliope looked up at the sky with a pitiful grimace and shook her head.

Tieri stepped to Calliope and bent down to her level. “Calliope,” she said in a calm but stern voice, “who wore my body?”

Calliope dropped her shoulders even lower. She stared down into the dark wet sand.

“Her name is Dharmavaram. Guest Digambar Dharmavaram.”

“The technician one? The thrill-seeker?”

“Yes, her.”

Tieri shook her head. “What a fool I’ve been,” she muttered. “All this time. I thought you were my friend, but you were just playing with me. Like a puppet.”

Calliope looked up at Tieri. Her face never looked so old. Hundreds of years old.

“No!” she whined. “That’s not how it was. At first, I was following orders, but then it changed. Tieri, I really care about you. More than I can explain. This is something special. It scares me. I don’t dare tell the others.”

Tieri’s eyes welled up.

“I’m sorry, Tieri.”

Tieri nodded slowly. She looked down at Calliope and blinked a tear through her eyelash. “We’re both sorry,” she said, and walked away. The thin foamy waves dissolved her footsteps.

“Please!” Calliope called out. “I’m new to all of this.” And in a final desperate plea, she yelled after Tieri, “Please forgive me!”