The Arbutus had left Jeria one week ago and they would be at the rendezvous point in another. Pearl had tucked Hakeem’s card into the vanity’s mirror between the glass and the faux-wooden shell and it drew her eye whenever she was in the room. Luckily, she was rarely in the room.

The Arbutus was a busy ship and there was always something to do even when they were merely traveling from one place to another. It was easy to keep her head down and work with a single minded focus; take notes, design meager inventions she never looked at again, immerse herself in study, arrange meetings with Imani and Bridgers, etc. She did anything to keep herself busy until she could finally stumble into her room without her eye being drawn anywhere but the bed. She barely even thought about how empty it was anymore.

“The diplomatic relations between the U.U.C and the Kellemari aren’t going well to say the least,” Bridgers sighed during one of their meetings.

Imani shook her head while eating a salad and Pearl looked down at her personal communicator, scrolling down in vain. The words didn’t move. She’d messaged Olaan days ago and had received no answer. It was the first time her friend had ever ignored her outright.

“Pearl?”

She quickly looked up then bowed her head, palms up. “Yes?”

“Do you think you could help us? We think the Kellemari might listen to you. They have their reservations about joining the U.U.C and I think hearing your story might really give them something to think about.”

Imani leaned forward, blocking Bridgers from view with a calm smile. “Of course, you shouldn’t feel obligated. Ken’s a bit excitable.”

“Isn’t it exciting?” Bridgers asked, grinning as he sat up straighter to be seen above Imani’s head. “Besides, I know a certain someone who once got a stomach ache at the thought of speaking to a certain Zal dignitary…”

“That was coincidence! Pure coincidence!” Imani protested, leading the two of them into a light argument wherein they smiled and bickered back and forth. 

Pearl watched the exchange curiously. She’d seen similar conversations play out time and time again amongst Humans and she didn’t understand it. The exposed teeth, the loud noises and the overfamiliarity bordering on aggression and the movements which meant nothing. 

There were moments when it all became so grotesque, so alien, that she longed to run away - to leap out of a window and into the ocean. 

“Captain,” Pearl interrupted, glancing downward at her lap where her personal communicator showed Olaan to be reachable as her message continued to go unanswered. “Would you allow me a request?”

Bridgers grinned, unabashedly eager as he glanced toward Imani before looking back at Pearl. Obviously, they’d been anticipating something. “Certainly! What can I do for you?”

Pearl looked up, letting the communicator’s screen fade to black as she affixed it back onto her belt. 

“I would like to see the pictures your grandfather took.”

   *

If Pearl thought her own rooms were extravagant, Bridgers’ were larger than life - as if someone had endeavored to fit a palace into one segmented corridor and succeeded wildly. 

The floors deviated between thick white carpet and what looked to be marble though Pearl knew it was likely only mimicking the appearance. It was the same with the wood paneling in the halls. Ueda had told her it felt nothing like the real thing. 

“Have a seat, I’ll pull up the photos.” Bridgers encouraged, gesturing to a plush pink couch as he left the room.

Pearl glanced towards the couch then took out her messenger, confirming that Olaan had not replied to her in the several hours that had lapsed. She sent another message, asking if co was alright. 

Bridgers walked back into the room carrying something in his hands. “So, what do you think of the place? It’s a bit too loud in my opinion but it makes quite the statement when I bring the odd visiting dignitary through.”

He opened a hidden panel in the wall and inserted the item he’d brought into it.

“We do not have carpet on Opranov,” Pearl said. She didn’t know what Bridgers meant by loud. He resided on the ship’s highest level, far from any noise.

“Do you like it?” Bridgers asked, shutting the panel again.

Pearl considered. “...Yes. It is soft.”

“Let’s install some in your room then,” Bridgers said, smiling as the room went dark. 

Before Pearl could respond, a beam of light shot out of the panel and onto the adjoining wall. Bridgers fussed a bit with a dial, helping the image come into focus.

It was a picture of several Novians standing in front of one of the only land buildings - the welcome center. Pearl knew it well and it hadn’t changed at all since the picture had been taken except that the very sparse list on the outer wall noting Opranov’s contacts had been updated to read ‘Humanity etc.’, the other species being detailed separately beneath the abbreviation. The newest always came first.

Pearl remembered taking the words in. Humanity etc. Her mind had been heavy at the time, her motivation to keep moving diminishing with every step. She was humanity etc. Etcetera etcetera….

“Most of these you won’t get to see anywhere else,” Bridgers commented. “Grandpa took a lot of photos. He said he wished he’d been able to take a moving panorama.”

Bridgers went through several photos; A blurry image of the On High gathered together, interior shots of the architecture, a window through which one could see the ocean. Every sight was intimately familiar to Pearl and she felt a myriad of emotions run through her at once - irritation and boredom at remembering her own time in the building, warmth at seeing Novian structures again, interest in what the photographer had deemed worthy of capture.

The last image was a small group of government workers, low level by their badges and the lack of adornment on their uniforms, greeting the cameraman with the utmost formality.

Pearl exhaled, amused. They were probably around her age and startled at the sight of a Human wandering the halls. She could tell by their widened eyes, the way some seemed to be moving backward quickly.

Bridgers, picking up on her noise, made one of his own - a deep hum and a soft shake of the head. When he spoke his voice was full of awe but there was something else there, something new laced through.

“It’s a bit frightening, isn’t it?”

Pearl blinked. Frightening? 

Her tongue was stone. Heavy as her heartbeat. She was filling with it again - the water and the muck which kept her lying down and miserable. 

That’s what everyone wanted from her. More than stories, more than to meet her, more than to shake her hand and say they’d had the pleasure - they wanted her to tell them that Opranov was a frightening place. That it was cold and dreary and that the people there were monsters who’d driven her away. That Novians were just as appalling as imagined. That they were rescuing her from something terrible.

“-Now I know that Opranov’s just someone’s home, like everywhere else.” 

A shaft of light shot through her, like the beam of the image projection system, and Pearl saw it again: That smile. The sun. It melted whatever was attempting to settle in her and drag her down.

At that moment Pearl knew.

“Captain Bridgers,” she said, standing straighter as she looked at the projection again. The image staring back at her was an ocean. Water as far as the eye could see. Her voice was calm. “I am afraid I will be unable to join you on Earth.”