“So, what do you think of our ship?” Bridgers asked.

The restaurant he’d taken her to was spacious but warm. Everything about it communicated that it was a high class establishment - even the touches which skewed it more towards ‘homey’ were obviously curated and carefully arranged. 

In the dim, orange, lighting everything seemed to have a jewel glaze that sparkled in the corner of one’s eye - as if walking through a memory preserved in amber. 

Pearl had stood near the entrance and watched a fish tank for several minutes, unaware that she was supposed to ask the person at the front desk where to sit. On Opranov it would be considered impolite to walk up to someone and begin a conversation in such an environment.

 She’d watched the fish and waited until a harried looking woman called her over and asked if she was Pearl. When she confirmed her identity the woman seemed only mildly relieved. 

“He told me you might be wandering around. Follow me.”

When Bridgers saw Pearl his eyes had lit up and he’d told her she looked lovely. After a bit of small talk about the restaurant and the travel and the food (a two sided conversation by only the strictest definition), he’d asked her what she thought about the ship.

Pearl scanned the menu for fish. “I have nothing to compare it to.”

Bridgers laughed gently. “That’s true, forgive me if I’ve come on a bit too strong. I’m proud of the Arbutus and her crew so I can’t help the urge to brag.”

Pearl thought about the fish in the tank. None of them seemed particularly healthy. She hoped they didn’t serve them - it would bring her estimation of the restaurant’s quality down.

She remembered Olaan taking her to a restaurant where the fish would swim around the two of them and the patrons were expected to select and catch them just as they were expected to grab a ticket at the front door and wait for the seats to be called. They’d both practiced for weeks beforehand so they’d get it right right away without having to ask anyone. It’d been their first time dining out at such an establishment and they’d both wanted to look dignified.  

Suddenly Bridgers spoke again, interrupting her thoughts. “You know, my grandfather was the photographer on the sole contact mission.”

Pearl waited to see if the man would continue but he simply stared back at her, an eager expression on his face. 

“I see.”

Though he looked temporarily disappointed, Bridgers quickly continued with renewed enthusiasm. “Because of that I’ve been fascinated by Novians ever since I was young. My grandfather was the closest a Human has ever gotten to them and I would annoy him endlessly, asking him to tell me every little detail of that relatively short encounter.”

Bridgers splayed his hands to either side, his tone taking on a note of grandiosity. 

“When I heard about you I was immediately captivated - a Human who lived amongst Novians her entire life? It might be childish but the first thing I thought was how much I wanted to sit down with you and hear your story. That’s always been my approach to space travel and it’s probably why I was chosen to be the first to greet you. I love meeting new people.”

He leaned forward, steepling his hands. Pearl took note of how often they moved. Apparently meaningless movement. What did it signify?

“However, even I was worried about how you’d acclimate.” Bridgers admitted, sounding lightly apologetic. “There’s a difference between meeting someone briefly and knowing them for a lifetime but Pearl? I want to let you know that you’ve exceeded everyone’s expectations of you.”

Pearl stared at him, wondering what sort of expectations she’d apparently soared so grandly beyond. She’d had the impression for months that she was failing some sort of test, or barely scraping by. Even the people who were kind to her seemed to be viewing her as merely ‘good enough’ - an acknowledgement that she was trying her best, even if it so often fell short.

A waiter stopped by the table and they ordered. Two waters were set down in front of them and Pearl began to drink hers as Bridgers continued to talk.

“In around a month’s time we’ll be returning to Earth.” he told her. “Ever since you first called asking for our help I’ve wanted to show it to you. It’s a beautiful planet, one of the galaxy’s finest if I do say so myself.”

We say the same about our planet, she thought before catching the comment. The crewmembers she’d met and compared to Novians seemed to become uneasy, saying; “Well, it’s not exactly the same…”

Pearl continued to drink, staring at Bridgers who appeared to be searching for something in her. Then he laughed as if tossing something silly aside - another test she’d failed. How low had their expectations for her been?

"All this to say I’d like to be a bit selfish and claim something for myself if you’ll allow me,” he said, grinning as he spread his arms. “Welcome to Earth.”

Pearl waited for more and when none came she set her empty glass on the table, her throat numb from the ice water. “Ah…thank you,” she said, because he had the tone of someone giving something.

In the restaurant's lights Bridgers seemed to be sculpted from gold. Stiff yellow hair, shining white teeth, a glint in his eye, a sheen to the suit he was wearing which drank in the scenery and reflected it outward. 

Pearl’s eye in the mirror had been a solitary black hole.

Bridgers laughed again. “Sorry, sorry. I know I have my eccentricities! Imani’s always saying-”

“No. Truly, Bridgers.” Pearl interrupted, holding the cold glass tightly with both hands. 

She felt strange, embarrassed. Her face wasn’t covered. Why was that lovely? He hadn’t called her lovely before. There had been no fish on the menu. 

“I am…very thankful to you,” she finished.

“Well then, you’re welcome.” Bridgers said, smiling warmly. He reached his hand across the table and let it settle just in front of her empty glass. “And please remember, no matter what anyone might try to say - you’re a Human being. You can tell them Ken Bridgers himself is behind you, for whatever that’s worth!”

I thought I was girl.

No matter what anyone might try to say - you’re a Human being.

I am woman, not HoH.

Have you never seen a black Human before?

I am Novian, I will always be Novian.

Pearl suddenly felt near unbearably tired. She wanted to lay down on the floor and sleep. She wanted to vanish beneath the waves. She wanted to be home. She wanted to know where that was.

Looking across the table, however, she didn’t want to disappoint Bridgers yet again. If she didn’t have what he wanted hidden behind her eyes or in the recesses of her heart then she could at least offer him something she knew he’d appreciate. 

“If you would like, I can tell you a few stories of my own. About life on Opranov.”

To Pearl’s relief, the man sitting across from her immediately lit up. She was nearly forced to squint.

“I’d love to listen,” he said, looking hungry.

For a moment Pearl continued to stare at him, thinking of the time in the restaurant - the one she’d gone to with Olaan. She had a feeling that the captain could catch a fish on the first try without practice - that he wouldn’t even think to practice, and the thought, like so many others, filled her with a potent mix of jealousy and despair.

If only I were Human she thought at the same time she thought If only I were Novian.

Then she began to speak.