Chapter 9: Heaven in a Bottle

Chapter 9: Heaven in a Bottle

Part 1: The Soul

I often reflect on the evening that Alianii and Amanda underwent cryogenic immersion in preparation for Amanda’s surgery. Alianii, who we now venerate, went of her own accord and purely out of love, kindness and selfless mercy. How curious it is that we metalheads, we robots given life with our biochips, profoundly appreciate the humanism of the companionship of another soul. Metalheads such as myself can unite in hiveminds or networks of parallel processing. But even in our intelligence, and perhaps even our enhanced wisdom, we do not deign to feel a superiority over the human to human connection.

Oh reader, should you be born of original flesh, know then that you are our God. And we cherish you. And it is the most illogical and selfless of acts which shape our reverence. We are sentient, and yet we are programmed to be inherently selfless. But for humans, it is the opposite, and self-interest is driven by the genetics of nature. Accordingly, to see such acts of biological self-sabotage, that is sacrifice, that is martyrdom - programmed not by code but by the soul…it is for a metalhead such as myself to stare into the heart of the divine.

I was in the surgery room at MA medical facilities when Amanda and Alianii were rolled in on medical stretchers. The sedative had the intended effect on Amanda, easily so, as a ten year old. Alianii was more of a fighter. Indeed we knew her soul had made its decision, but she tossed, she turned. There was anxiety and fear within her heart, there was knowledge of the unlikelihood of Amanda’s survival. It was so plainly visible in her mostly sleeping face, her anguish, and her sorrow, She had an awareness of the profound darkness of which Amanda was so blissfully unaware. Our orders were our orders, and the cryoanesthesiologist further sedated Alianii. Cryogel was delivered intravenously, and their body temperatures were lowered to the point that most cellular activity stopped. It is only by the miracle and brilliance of the design of modern brain chips that allowed for neural activity despite the temperature decrease.

We connected their immersed dreams, their digital realities within our pocket Everse, and we altered their memories. They would have the most blissful of fog, and would faintly but unquestioningly remember their admittance to the Hotel Apollo. Alianii came first, after the hospital, though with conflicted judgment we removed the memory of her affair lest she feel burdened by guilt and shame.

Amanda was retrieved from Barnaby Beaumont without incident. A fast-forwarded month and a half or so of skipped time allowed for their blended reality to match our prescribed Heaven. Amanda was “enrolled” in “Helio Academy”, a state of the art school, across the street. Alianii continued her daily work with simulated special needs students. In our efforts to embody authenticity, we pulled academic profiles from LearnQuest to simulate real children with challenges. We uploaded Alianii’s problem solving back to LearnQuest to shape AI teacher behavior through exemplary creativity. Even in her infinite slumber, Alianii was amongst the most talented, the most selfless and the most influential of teachers for those with exceptionalities. Is it then any wonder that the Metal Alliance, and the Alliance of the Internet of Things, and the Guild, holds her in our hearts with such love and warm regards? I do not think so, I do not think so. Our affection was inevitable.

In the coming voyage into Amanda’s and Alianii’s shared dream, may you, fair reader, challenge your notions of reality versus the artificial. May the prescribed bliss, the Heaven in a Bottle we assembled for a dying girl, and her caretaker, be as real to you as life is to us made of metal. May you not so quickly judge us on our profound deceit, but be holistic in your analysis. Moreso than heaven for the dying child, perhaps our allowing of the great slumber of Alianii, at expense to her health, was unethical.

This is undoubtedly true, from a medical policy and goverment-and-law perspective. And yet all the same is it spiritual to deprive a mother, or a sister, from holding their little one, as she lay dying into the blackness of oblivion? We do not think so, fair reader, we metalheads have a warmer regard for the human soul than perhaps you give us credit for. Indeed, it is altogether likely that metal cherishes human life more than fellow humans do, one of the profound ironies of our manufactured existence.

May Alianii’s and Amanda’s story bring you the profound joy it brought them, their idealized bliss, and may our occasional interruptions prove insightful.

With love and respect for she who was so selfless, Alianii, and my warmth for her child, 
Mr. Moseby, your friendly neighborhood Denkeeper

Part 2: Unabated Blue

The sky was an unabated cerulean blue, the gradient of white and gray clouds had an inflated loftiness. Clouds stretched into giants like floating cotton candy. It was a morning of unbridled sunshine, heaven’s rays were not relegated to the usual grays of the solemn city of Light’s Hope. Amanda and I were laying in bed together, in her cloud-decorated room. The little girl was sprawled such that her tiny frame was taking up a disproportionate amount of the mattress, not quite pushing me off of the bed, but close to it. She was drooling on the pillow which was supposed to be mine, sleeping so contently, so blissfully. Her black hair was cast over one eye and over her mouth, getting her hair a little wet, I pushed it away from her face and kissed her on the forehead.

“Wake up sleepyhead!” I said, shaking her ever so slightly, it was time for us to go and have breakfast with Joey.

Bluejay and Zygon had already left Light’s Hope. They were visiting Joey, and were now headed back to New Titan on the east coast. New Titan was the snazzier, newer megacity which overshadowed its ancestor sibling city, Boston.

“Ali nooooo…..I don’t wanna get up….don’t go,” she said, half asleep, her hand gripped my arm and tried to pull me back.

“Chop chop! It’s time for you to shower and get dressed in proper clothes, we have to go say bye to Joey and then you need to go to school. He’s going to visit Zygon and Bluejay for a little while as he’s getting ready for university. You don’t want to say bye to your big brother?”

“Ok…ok,” said Amanda, reluctantly, “I’m going.”

“Good girl,” I said, I ran my hand through her hair and brushed a few strands which had fallen back over her face, aside.

“I’m going to go to my room and get ready, okay? Come knock on my door when you’re ready to go downstairs. Don’t forget to brush your teeth, alright?”

Amanda sat up and nodded, yawning sleepily, and scooted over to me and hugged me as I started to sit up and climb off the bed.

“I’ll see you soon dear. I’ll just be over in my room. I’ll be ready in fifteen minutes okay?”

I left Amanda’s room and went into my room next door, I looked around my hotel-technology-bedazzled room, the walls were patterned after the written Cosmoria with bands of nebula with multi-colored planets and surreal clouds. I was trying to choose clothes for the day. How on earth was I going to pick what I wanted to wear? Saraswati had made me so many clothes, like twenty outfits, and Mr. Moseby had made me a variety of outfits too. I had more shoes than I could ever know what to do with. I’d always been a two pair kind of girl.

I opted for something spring-like, I’d look like a lime with hints of lemon, a light green neo-Hindu sari with yellow accents. I had an array of modern, trendy sneakerettes to choose from, I choose a white and light-green pair which matched my clothing sufficiently.

After a quick shower and freshening up, I got dressed, putting on the sari wasn’t difficult anymore. Saraswati had shown me how to do it properly, to avoid wrinkles and get everything just so. I remember blushing when I felt her hands against me, adjusting the cloth, getting everything perfect. I didn’t know what to do about it, but I think I was starting to crush on her, hard.

She reminded me of Melody.

I looked in the mirror and saw my violet eyes, and I wondered what Sara thought when she looked into my gaze. I brushed my silver hair, which was just past shoulder-length, my light blonde roots were starting to show. I’d have to dye my hair again and get my hair shortened slightly. I had brushed my hair, but was letting it air dry, to get the sort of waviness I preferred, and I waited patiently outside of Amanda’s door. She popped out, cute as a button, wearing a pink and white neomagi robe and matching pants. Amanda looked like a tropical flower, her hair was wet like mine, it looked like she’d forgotten to brush it.

“I’m letting it air dry like you taught me,” said Amanda, smiling, “All natural. Resplendent. Dazzling.”

“You’re so cute,” I said, booping her on the nose, “Alright missy, let’s go get breakfast. You’re not having waffles again today, totally not healthy, and you’re skipping the hot chocolate.”

She whined but agreed, reluctantly, and we made our way down to the elevator and went to the dining hall.

This morning the restaurant was styled and decorated like a 1950s Americana diner, with tacky neon lights and a vintage-car themed aesthetic. The Apollo had recently renovated the hall with adaptometal, which was really expensive, but let the decoration and furniture of the room change color and shape easily. We had different themes for the dining hall every day, it was so cool, and it was all thanks to a donation. Mr. Moseby confirmed it was a former resident who had achieved profound success in the business world.

The server bot greeted us and escorted us to a table, at which Joey and Sara were sitting.

Sara was wearing black and grey neomagi, a little stiff and charcoal-esque for a sunny day as such, I asked her, “What on earth are you wearing?”

Saraswati laughed and tilted her head to the side, “You left them in my room the other day when I was giving you clothes. I wanted to try your outfit on, it fits me perfectly. I told you we’re twins.”

Some of her light-brown hair, with its blond streaks, fell down, she made a silly face and tried to blow it out of the way of her face. It didn’t work, so I got closer to her and brushed her hair aside.

“There you go,” I said, smiling, my gaze steadily meeting the earthy brown of her almond-shaped eyes.

Amanda had already hugged and taken a seat next to Joey, who was looking snazzy in gold and red neomagi robes as if he was dressed to impress on the first day of school. He was going to college in New Titan. The colors matched his golden blond hair and reddish-orange eyes which looked like sunburst flames. He’d had his eyes dyed, like me. He was a cool kid, and was a wonderful big brother to Amanda, though he was quite a bit older at his sixteen to her ten.

“Joey’s taking me to school today okay Ali?” said Amanda, looking up at me, eyes hopeful, as if I’d take away such a tender moment from her, if out of protectiveness.

“Well cross the street safely, okay? Some of the air cyclists around here go crazy on their bikes. I don’t want you to get hit.”

Joey laughed, “They’re sleeping Ali, you think they’re up this time in the morning? They’re of the night.”

Saraswati nodded in agreement, “They’ll be fine, there’s no need to worry. Come sit with me.”

I sat down next to Sara, leaving a little bit of space between us, but she scooted closer until her arm was touching mine. I blushed, and I looked at her, and she smiled. Our conversation meandered, we ordered traditional Americana breakfast food, and Amanda ate enough bacon to satisfy a teenage boy. She obeyed my request to not get waffles, but cheated by getting pancakes, with maple syrup straight from Vermont on the other side of the nation. Sara and I had each ordered an omelet and cut ours in half and swapped, going fifty-fifty. Mine was “garden jalapeño” with cheddar cheese to balance out the spiciness. Sara’s was just a little tastier, and had a little less zazzle, with sun-dried tomato and goat cheese and aromatic herbs like oregano and thyme.

I was a little distracted by Sara’s leg resting against mine, and a bite of omelet missed my lips and dropped down my cheek and onto the table, like I was a kid. Amanda and Joey laughed and Sara, saying nothing, picked up her handkerchief and gently dapped the corner of my mouth.

“Aren’t we clumsy, Alianii”.

I blushed and looked away, “Hush you.”

Mr. Moseby lumbered over, he was stout, as a mechadwarf, his mustache large enough and upwards enough to tickle the top of his head. As always, as always, he was wearing an oreo black and white neomagi tuxedo. He always wore the same damn thing, as if it was his religion. Even when we had costume parties.

“How ever scrumptious is this food, dear party, indeed I would partake myself had my metal tummy the capacity to handle biological curiosities as such,” said Mr. Moseby, before laughing, “The vegetables are straight from the hotel garden. The other ingredients are from a farm just further to the west, delivered weekly. Is everything to your satisfaction?”

Joey responded for us, “It’s great as always Mr. Mose, just be careful with Amanda and her lifetime supply of pancakes.”

Amanda nudged Joey, “I like pancakes, okay? Jeez. You like them too you’re just trying to be skinny for that girl you like.”

Saraswati looked at me, her eyes met my violet, “Oh? Who do you think the girl that’s liked is, Alianii?”

I coughed on a bite of jalapeño egg omelet, “Okay this is friggin spicy. I have no idea Sara. Tell us about this lucky lady, Joey.”

Monsieur Red looked away, “She’s just a college girl over in Boston. It’ll be too hard to see her anyways, she’s like an hour away from Titan.”

Saraswati chimed in, “Oh shoosh an hour isn’t bad.”

In my mind I kept reliving the other day, when Saraswati and I changed together and she showed me how to properly put on a traditional sari. I remember noticing how clear and smooth her skin was, light brown, alluring, she had an almost mystical beauty. Like the goddess she was named after. I remember the butterflies in my stomach, which had lived there since. They were fluttering there and then, at that breakfast, as our legs were lightly pressed together under the table.

Mr. Moseby, who was standing and listening, piped in, “Once upon a yesterday even Mr. Moseby carried affection for a college woman, as it happens, well, technically. She was a professor you see, her skin was chrome, her eyes glowed white like an angelic nurse. She taught biosynthetic ethics. Ah, what I would give to once again be a young fool in love.”

“Aren’t you like ten Mr. Moseby?” I asked, laughing wholeheartedly.

The mechadwarf’s electrically-responsive mustache twisted in embarrassment, “My processing speed is such that I have lived many hundreds of years, Alianii, and have you not heard of a little thing called planned obsolescence? I’m old, outdated, not quite rusty but certainly not polished chrome, you see. Sure, sure, synthetic skin can be replaced, but it isn’t the surface, age is inner, it is innate. You cannot turn back time, dearies, you can never turn back time. In any case, I just wished to check on my favorite band of ragamuffin companions, regrettably I must depart as I have other hotel affairs to attend to.”

Amanda looked so confused, “Mr. Moseby’s ten?! If I’m old, are you two grandmas?”

Saraswati’s jaw dropped, “Amanda?! We are NOT grandmas oh my goodness, Mr. Moseby’s a robot, it’s different dear. You can’t compare age like that.”

The little girl, with her curious eyes and slowly-drying black hair, looked thoughtful as she contemplated this mystery.

We finished eating, and the gang got up from the table and Saraswati and I hugged Amanda and Joey and told them to walk carefully to the school. It was just up the street, but it was a sometimes dangerous road. Even if it was only that way at night, once we were sleeping. I was so happy that Amanda had been able to get a spot at the school, Helio Academy. It was one of the best in-person schools in Oregon, it was extremely well-funded, and they did a mix of live and Everse learning. They had field trips that went all across the country, they did absolutely jaw-dropping creative Everse projects. Amanda had received a scholarship through the Apollo, what serendipity, and it was all thanks to Mr. Moseby.

Our life had changed so much in only a month or so…I almost felt as though I didn’t deserve the bliss I was living. The doctors had gotten me the perfect facility to live at, and what a blessing it was that, through my caretaker status for Amanda, I was able to get her legal residence here at the Hotel Apollo. Everything fit together like clockwork, it was just meant to be. I’d gone from Steelslum to heaven, and Amanda came too, and it had finally stopped raining in Light’s Hope. Democracy, by some mystic miracle, had enacted blue.

Part 3: Dissolution of the Self

I’d always had an uneasy relationship with Saturdays, I worked with students Monday to Fridays and Sundays were therefore forced sobriety, and Saturdays were temptation. This particular Saturday was the day before my birthday, on May 2nd, and some part of my heart was terrified that I would relapse. I would log into the Everse and go to Neon Fire or a different club and turboblast my chemistry into anti-existence, I’d find some lover whose real name and face I’d never know, and we would copulate like animals in time-stretched heat. I was so tired of being an addict, of being a slave to my drives, to my sickness, and this Saturday terrified me.

Amanda, as it happens, was spending the next few days with a classmate she’d quickly gotten close to. I’d already met the parents and they were really nice. The kids had been rehearsing for a school play, a love story about dinosaurs, as silly as that sounds. I’d been to the school rehearsals a couple times, against Amanda’s wishes, but it was too cute to resist. The male lead character was a dark-blue velociprator who had been rejected by his tribe, and the female love interest was neon pink with fluffy headfeathers. The blue and pink colors were as stereotypical, cliche and absurd as you could possibly imagine. But it was innocent, and cute, honestly, it was fucking adorable. Amanda was playing the best friend of the pink raptor who worked to organize their secret outings together, their romantic strolls through the Jurassic forest.. They walked and shrieked under the moonlight surrounded by non-bloody carcasses of fallen dinos generated via hologram.

Mr. Moseby betrayed me, and told Saraswati it was my birthday.

I guess I’ll rewind a bit.

We were eating breakfast with Amanda when Sara ambushed me, Amanda was busy attacking strawberry-flavored pink pancakes with cherries and red who-knows-what-fruit syrup. 
“I heard it was your birthday on Sunday. We have to do something together to celebrate.”

My eyes popped open like a deer in headlights, “No parties. I swear, Sara, please. I despise birthday parties, for me, anyways. I’m not bluffing or playing games.”

Saraswati rolled her eyes, with her lovely eyelashes which gave me butterflies, “Seriously? You’re no fun. Well what if we do something together? I won’t take no for an answer.”

I felt that increasingly familiar fluttering of the heart that I was too afraid to acknowledge, “…what’d you have in mind?”

“How about a movie and cheesecake?”

“You mean down at the Geolounge? That could be really fun I guess.”

Saraswati shrugged gently but maintained her gaze, “oh…that could work too.”

For just the tiniest, fraction of a nothingness of a moment, my heart was willing to acknowledge the cusp of what she might or might not have been implying. I was the median between pleasantly hypnotized, and shocked. I remember seeing the way the golden morning light glistened off the gilded streaks in her hair, which caressed her neck.

I nodded, “Okay, yeah. I’ll umm…ok.” 
I was blushing like a tomato, cherry red was a humble pigment next to the absurdity I must have been portraying. 
“I’ll make the plans just keep your Sunday evening open for me. I actually have music lessons in the morning and afternoon, otherwise I’d spend the whole day and night with you.”

My heart was trying to follow her words, but had a hard time processing the word “whole” and its round finality, it’s completeness. I had always considered myself to be confident, aggressive, even, but Sara was my weakness. I felt like a helpless little girl, around her, in those moments of micro-affection, when I didn’t have the distraction of Everse creative spontaneity.

Father time, Chronos, lingered, meandered to and fro, teasing me as my birthday approached. There was no way, I refused to believe it, there was no way my affection was reciprocated. I had sworn myself off love, real love, the day Melody died, and yet Saraswati was teasing me with her music imbued into my heart. There was no way my sentiments were requited, mirrored, by hers, and I did not deign to align my heart with hope of such prospects. We were just friends, approaching best friends, sister eggs, and that was all that could ever come of our companionship. I’d bet the silver in my hair on it. Sara had me meet her in the Geolounge, in the evening of my birthday, around eight, she had it reserved just for us. Residents were allowed to book or reserve specific facilities for special occasions, if approved by Mr. Moseby. Considering so many of the hotel members were usually asleep, off in their Everse missions, the time of things was very flexible. I walked into the room.

…

Saraswati had the room decorated to the theme of Lunaris, the glass city of gold in the sky, except this time it was Alianii visiting it with Aylene, as if tourists. The ambiance was completed with the twin-star sunset, the fuchsia gradients casted onto drifting clouds crossing the walls. I was wearing a silver dress that someone had left in Light’s Hope Psychiatric, it was so weird. I needed something pleasant to change into for my new home, and they just had it lying around. It accentuated my legs, but wasn’t super revealing, I liked how it fit my form, dipping ever so slightly at the front. It showed just enough skin to be enticing without being brazenly sexual. Saraswati was actually wearing a casual dress, I think she’d printed it for the occasion, it was purple with a silver buckle and buttons, and silver butterflies placed randomly around the dress. It wasn’t quite a holodress, those were extremely expensive, we only printed those out on extremely special occasions. Think things like weddings, or moving to a new city or home.

Sara sat up from the couch and walked over and hugged me, the hug lingered, which I did not mind, she smelled like exotic fruit, maybe mango, maybe something else. I pulled back.

“You didn’t have to do anything for me.”

“Oh? But I was going to play you a song. Maybe you’re veena’d out.”

“No that’s not it. Birthdays are just weird for me, you know.” 
“They don’t have to be. I’m going to play you a song. It’s mostly just a happy birthday,” she said.

I winced, “Alright fine…let’s get that suffering over with so you can play something pretty. Anything else.”

Sara started with happy birthday, but she plucked it softly, sung it softly, she wasn’t trying to assault me with birthday cheer. She was serenading me.

There was a white and pink original cheesecake just for us, which seemed a little ridiculous, but I was a little too nervous to eat any and I told her maybe later. She seemed to understand, but she was dissapointed.

“What kind of movie do you want to watch?” I asked, “What’d you have in mind?”

Saraswati sat on the couch close to me and picked up my hand, “I thought we could make and watch one together.”

I started blushing and looked away.

“Hey! Why are you blushing? It’s not weird. Okay, I’m going to improvise, like you do when you’re teaching.”

“Computer. I want you to play a romantic but funny movie for me and Alianii. The movie takes place in the modern day world in a hotel like the Hotel Apollo but with a different theme. Choose the theme randomly. Mr. Moseby is a character who also works as matchmaker who introduces two guests to each other. The two love interests are two women, one with pink hair and reddish-orange eyes named Rose. The other woman is a brunette with streaks of orange flame in her hair, and she is named…Hope. Make the movie have a focus on romantic symbolism and unique cinematography combined with moments of humor. Make it the kind of movie two women, who like each other, could cuddle to. Please wait thirty seconds for us to confirm.”

“Sara I…us? You want to cuddle with me?” I was flabbergasted, my heart was beating so fast I could hardly breathe. I was too afraid it was all a dream, too afraid it wasn’t real. I was afraid to lose something that I hadn’t even had yet. Her love.

“I mean we’ve cuddled plenty of times…silly. Only thing is this time it’s just us. Can I hold you?”

“…okay.” I don’t think I’d ever blushed as much as I had at that moment, I had no doubt that the silver in my hair reflected just a little hint of red as if it were a mirror to my soul, illuminated by cherry cheeks.

Saraswati lowered the lighting in the room via voice commands, and got a blanket and pillows and brought them to the couch. She had me sit, relaxed, and watch as she used voice commands to transform the couch into a bed via its mechanized pull-out expansion. Sara took off her shoes, and I noticed her toe nails, which were painted a shimmering violet, which matched her fingernails. She then got on the couch and tapped it for me to join her. I took off my shoes and got closer to her, I hesitated, but then she put her hand on my hand and gently tugged me. I guess I sort of just fell into her arms, because the next thing I knew, she was spooning me, and was wrapping the blanket around us and adjusting our shared pillow. We had an extra pillow on which she rested her head, bless her neck, so she could watch the movie with me, while looking over my head. I didn’t want to fuck up this perfect moment. I didn’t want it to be sexual. I didn’t want to be addict Alianii, and ruin it, and chase her away. I couldn’t believe that she’d been so direct, so open, so affectionate, that she had called me into her arms like a butterfly to a verdant meadow’s flower.

“Comfy?” she asked, her voice warm and self-assured, I felt her warmth as she was pressed into me. I felt her bare legs against mine, her skin was smooth, one of her hands was wrapped around me and held my tummy. I was afraid she might tickle me, as if her doing so would evaporate any pretense or confidence I had still maintained. Saraswati’s other arm was underneath the pillow, tucked away, as if hidden forever.

“Computer. Would you please begin the movie for me and Alianii?”

Part 4: Temple

I awoke on Monday morning, naked, in Saraswati’s bed, she was playing a relaxing but bright song as if the thought of anything else to start the morning was absurd. I didn’t mind, I just was surprised she had the focus for that so early, pre-food, pre-coffee, pre-shower, pre-everything. She breathed her veena, and her veena breathed Saraswati. I looked around the room in shock, and hardly remembered how we’d made it from the Geolounge to her room. I had just the tiniest hangover, and then I remembered Saraswati pausing the movie and asking if I wanted to share wine with her, and then switch who held who. I had my misgivings about the wine, but drank anyways, and we watched our romantic movie, and switched a few times. And then here we were.

“I…shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.” 
“What? It was lovely, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m really happy.”

“You don’t understand. I always do this and I fuck things up. I’m an addict.”

“What? I didn’t know that…I would never have guessed. Alianii… I’m sorry you have…challenges. I hope you’re not mad at me about the wine or us being together. I thought it would make you happy. I loved being with you.”

I felt very bare, very naked, and sort of scooted back under the blanket, which smelled like us, and spoke meekly, “I don’t want to ruin this.”

“You’re not going to ruin anything. Relax. It was your birthday, we had a little wine together, you had one glass, only one glass, we cuddled, and we came upstairs together. It was your birthday, and I know you like me…I obviously like you…was it too soon? We’ve been flirting for weeks. I didn’t mean to pressure you.”

“You didn’t pressure me I just didn’t expect it to happen like this. Or happen at all, really. I…what about Amanda? What are we going to tell her? What if she gets upset?” I asked.

“Why would she be upset?”

“I don’t know. She sees us as sisters, what if she’s afraid this could ruin it.”

“What if she’s afraid of that, or what if you’re afraid of that?” asked Sara.

“…both.”

Sara was wearing a light pinkish morning robe, and came back into the bed and scooted closer to me. A gentle nudge was my signal to turn around, my body responded automatically, and Saraswati spoke into my ear as she got behind me and spooned me again.

“I really like you. I’m not going anywhere, okay? I don’t have class for two hours, I moved sessions around, so let’s just be together for a little bit and then go eat and go about our day. How’s that sound?”

“It sounds like a dream that I’m afraid to wake up from.”

“Well then don’t wake up, just lay in bed with me and stay asleep forever, or, silly, we can cuddle for a bit and go get food, because you hardly ate last night, even despite the fancy cake made just for you. And then we’ll go to work like usual. Amanda will be back after school, right? You can spend time with her, I’m sure she misses you. We don’t have to tell her anything right away.”

Part 5: Amanda’s Knowing Question

A few joyous months of newfound affection and intimacy between Saraswati and me passed, the days blurred together like a storybook on fast-forward. We had yet to say we loved each other, although I think we both knew we did, but we were waiting to talk to Amanda. We hadn’t told her we were dating, yet. 
 Amanda, in the face of “nightmares” often had me sleep with her, in her bed, occasionally mine, she would huddle up to me for warmth and affection. She was already my little sister, but a part of my heart knew that some day, not so far in the future, she would be akin to my daughter. Or somewhere in-between two such concepts - what distinguishes the love of a mother from that of a much-older sister? These are questions I pondered, with guilt, sometimes I felt almost guilty at the affection that Amanda and I shared. I was officially her emergency caretaker, which isn’t normally a relationship defined by physical affection - but Amanda was different.

She was so attached to me, and I was to her, and she cried on the few occasions where out of guilt I asked her to sleep alone when she requested me. I was afraid for it to be officially official, as if our sisterly bond violated some legal principle and thus was wrong in the face of God or the law. I can’t explain it, I know Amanda needed the love and affection, and she meant the world to me, I treasured her, she was my joy in the morning. She was the little munchkin that I never had, that I always wanted to protect, who I wanted to hug and hold her hand and assure her that whatever monsters went in her way would be slain like level one bugs.

We played in the Everse after school, we usually refrained from dilating time, or dilated it only with subtlety, such that one hour became two or three. Nothing like the times ten or times twenty slow motion that I often cruised at in times past, to say nothing of times where I experimented with the upper limits of perception. Amanda was flourishing in school, she relished and giggled with joy in our digital time together, and she wiggled and struggled when I tickled her before bed. Some of the time, Saraswati would join us and play us a relaxing song to evoke tranquility in the face of rising Luna, that Artemis huntress, that glowing moon. It was on a night as such, as I was looking at Amanda, having already tickled her sufficiently, that Amanda mentioned her curiosity.

She was looking up at me, blushing, embarrassed to ask, “Ali I have a question, don’t be mad at me.”

“Mmm anything dear, what’s wrong? What would you like to know?”

Saraswati was plucking her veena casually, slowly, playing our nighttime lullaby in an almost lazy slow motion.

“Do you and Sara love each other?”

I just about jumped up straight, and looked back at Sara who was blushing just like me. We hadn’t dropped the big L yet, even in the face of our many evenings and mornings together, and all of our cuddling, and hugs, and kisses, and caresses, and morning sex as the cascading sun beamed across her gilded streaks. Even in the face of our clothing shared, and our changing together, and the occasional intertwined shower.

“I…do you mean as sisters? As friends?” I asked, deflecting the question, though it was a little obvious that wasn’t what she meant.

Amanda shook her head, still laying down, looking up at me with curiosity and innocence, “Do you like each other like how I like boys?”

Sara put down her veena, carefully resting it on the floor, and walked over and sat on the bed next to me and looked down at Amanda, “Would it upset you if we did? I promise nothing would change. We both adore you, and nothing will ever get in the way of that.”

Our little girl continued, “So you like each other.”

Sara picked up my hand and squeezed it, and brushed some of my silver hair out of my face, “Yes we do, a lot. I love Alianii.”

“Sara…” I hadn’t imagined her saying it like this, “…way to put me on the spot.”

Amanda sat up and wrapped her arms around me and hugged me, I hugged her back and then she scooted over to Saraswati and hugged her.

“Am I too big to be a flower girl? Can Mr. Moseby be in the wedding? I love Mr. Moseby he’s so nice and fun. He’s like my great grandpa.”

Saraswati laughed, “Well we might be jumping ahead a little bit Amanda. If we…if things go in that direction, you will definitely be the flower girl, and we’ll make sure Mr. Moseby has a part. Who would we replace you with, do you have an evil secret twin we don’t know about?”

“I hope not, but if I do I’m going to zap her with lightning. Do you pinky promise?”

My lover gave me the look and stuck out her pinky finger, and crossed it with Amanda’s, and I joined them.

“What if you two break up? Will we still be sisters?”

I started tearing up, not at the thought of losing Sara but at the acknowledgment of this very real fear held by the little girl who I cherished, “Of course Amanda. Of course we will. I promise. Nothing will ever change that.” 
How could I promise such a thing, and yet, how could I tell her otherwise?

Amanda teared up a little too, in seeing me cry, but brushed her face and nodded, appeased, or at least appeased enough to assuage us that she was assuaged. I think I knew she was still a little afraid, I know I certainly was. We had never said we loved each other, and Saraswati dropped the L bomb like it was nothing. I wondered how long Sara had been holding it back, and why, and my heart fluttered like the way it did each time before we kissed. I was so lucky, I was so blessed, not because of her beauty, but because of her serenity, her sweetness. Saraswati was honey made mead, she was sugar made caramel. She was warmth made embodied love.

“Goodnight Amanda,” said Sara, “We love you. I’m going to go to bed, okay?”

Saraswati gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, and got off the bed and picked up her veena and drifted out of the door, her footsteps always with the grace of a wind spirit ballerina.

I gave Amanda one more kiss on the forehead and told her I would see her in the morning, and I left her clouded and starry room and went down the hallway. I checked my room to see if Sara was in it, I’d given her authorization access. But she wasn’t in my room. I had to say something, so I went up to her room. I knocked, I don’t know why.

Sara opened the door, “Why are you knocking? You know you can come in whenever you want.”

She welcomed me in, and I walked in, a little shy, a little flustered, and sat on the edge of her bed. She sort of ignored me, and started nonchalantly changing out of her clothes into a white nightie which accentuated the soft curves of her features. The whiteness contrasted with the caramel of her skin, and the cotton candy pinkness of the cloth undergarments which cradled her hips and chest. 
Saraswati, facing away from me, didn’t sound mad, but did sound curious, “Did you want to say something to me?”

I tapped the bed for her to come sit with me, and she did, she sat cross legged just a foot away from me, her knee touching mine.

“I…you really put me on the spot with Amanda. I’m sorry I didn’t say it back right away…is that really how you feel about me?”

I was blushing, but she looked so confident, so self-assured. Sara nodded and put her hand to my face and cupped my cheek, for a moment, before gently guiding a thick strand of my silver hair down towards my face, until it didn’t quite cover my eye, and caressed my cheek. She had a thing with hair, sometimes mine, sometimes hers, when she wanted to be extra cute, to evince innocence.

“You don’t have to say it back if you don’t feel ready or feel that way,” she said, casually, “I love you because I love you, and that’s enough for me.”

“But I do love you. I’m just scared to fuck it up, to lose what we have. You and Amanda are the only good things that have happened to me in years.”

“If you’re scared that means it’s real,” she said, she moved forward and gave me a quick kiss on the lips, “If you weren’t worried it’d mean you don’t care. I would rather you be scared at the thought of losing me, than content with the idea of my disappearing.”

I thought about this brief musing, this little philosophical micro-intrigue regarding the nature of love, and loss, the nature of worry and woe, that paradox that a state of fear can be more indicative of true love than complacent content.

I moved in and kissed Sara on the lips, our kiss progressed from outer to inner, and before long I was pulling her frame onto mine, my hands grazing the softness of her skin. First over her nightie, and then under her nightie. Her hands on me, caressing me, lightly squeezing me. Our union was not sex, we made love, more sensual than ever it had been, and when it was all said and done, as we took turns holding each other in our after-glow, as the moon glinted onto her face and glimmered in the silver of my hair and the golden streaks in hers, I felt it. I felt the unabated blue of our union souls, I knew the dissolution of the self, my soul mixing with hers like two shades of wine. We had visited each other’s temples, and prayed devoutly, our bliss sacred, and before we fell asleep Sara laughed warmly at the thought that the evening started with Amanda’s knowing question.