2: The Beach
"Come with me."
"Where are we going?"
"I want to show you something."
"A sunrise?"
"Better."
"Are we allowed?"
"We're allowed to do anything we want."
"Anything? But there are rules, you told me…"
"Quorra."
"…Sam?"
"Do you trust me?"
"Of course."
"Good." She took his hand and he slowly applied pressure, pulling her away from the seat. Her hand brushed the cold metal, held on for a fraction of a second longer than her mind, and then she pulled away, subconsciously freed from the coldness of her prison.
"There are guards?"
"Alan took care of them."
"Mr. Bradley? But he was adamant I remain. So he has removed himself from the equation?"
"For our sakes, yes."
"You mean a lot to him? Mean a lot," she repeated, as if the words didn't sound quite right.
"I… I guess." He didn't know what else to say to this question. He had never thought it over before. How much did he mean to Alan Bradley? The man had stepped in after his father had disappeared, taken it upon himself to see some guidance brought down on the headstrong young boy his oldest friend had left behind. Sam paused for a moment at the door, reflecting on it. What had he said to Alan, right before he had left? It had been something like "I appreciate you playing the foster parent before, but can we pick these meeting up in you know… another ten years?" He couldn't quite pull it together.
"Sam?" He realized he had stopped in the doorway, one foot in, one foot out. Quorra's smooth hand was still gripped in his, and at her inquiry, he snapped out of his reflection and guided her along.
"I'm fine. Really," he murmured softly as he saw her eyebrows come together, concerned. He smiled at the look on her face, and she tentatively reflected the look back.
"Come on. We don't have much time."
On the back of the motorcycle, Sam was quiet. Quorra sensed that his mind was elsewhere and did not press him with questions. He wouldn't have minded, he never minded when she asked him things, he found wonder in the fact that she found wonder, it refreshed him, seeing such delight on her face. Delight seldom appeared in this world anymore and he was glad to have a constant source of it.
He felt her arms shift around his chest and knew she was looking up at the moon. She loved to look at the moon, almost as much as the sun. It intrigued her. He felt the weight of her head on his shoulder as she lay it down carefully.
"Amazing," she had whispered the first time she saw it, "and yet you tell me is a negative part of the system, yes?"
"Well, not negative. It's just, sort of a bad omen."
"Bad omen?"
"Well on a full moon, like this one… people just get superstitious."
"On the grid, there was only one omen… when we saw a blackguard, we knew to run." He had quieted as she said this. He did not want to be reminded, but he wanted her to get it out, to talk freely about what she had seen and experienced. And as much as he hated hearing it, he knew it would be the only way both of them could move on.
"Well… there are dangers in this world too. But not as bad as that, at least not here."
"Good. I'm glad. I feel saferer."
"Saferer?"
"Yes. Knowing there are not as many dangers as in my world."
"That's technically not a word."
"I already felt safer. When you just told me made me feel even more."
"Why did you feel safer?"
"I am with you." She said it in such a simple way, as if it was strange he did not understand.
"You feel safe with me?" he muttered softly. She frowned. He hated it when she frowned. Her lips weren't made for it.
"Of course."
He stopped the bike and dismounted. Quorra slipped off behind him and turned her head quizzically at the boom and crash in the near distance.
"Sound familiar?" He asked. She nodded and almost eagerly stepped past him, heading for the nearby bluff.
"It sounds like…" she grasped his fingers tightly in her own, he could feel the excitement buzzing through her, "an ocean," she whispered as they crested the hill and looked out into the darkness of the open sea, stretching on into near oblivion, as far as the eye could see, as distant as the mind could stretch. Quorra closed her eyes and slowly raised her arms and spread them out to the side, like she was flying, and a breeze swept over her face and stirred her dark hair. She breathed in deeply and laughed her laugh, she opened her mouth and breathed in the salt that rushed up to meet them. Sam could not help but share in her energy, it was part of the reason he so enjoyed being with her.
"Like the sea… the sea of simulation," she murmured, and opened her eyes. "An immense desert, where man is never lonely, for he feels life…" she whispered and Sam instinctively knew the words to finish.
"Stirring on all sides." Quorra smiled a dazzling smile at this.
"You read it, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. Jules Verne!"
"I had to. How could I spend time with you and not brush up on him?" She could only smile harder and he could not hold back any longer. He laughed. She dragged him down to the sand, walked in her heels, ignored the pull from the sand as they sunk deep into the wet grains. She just wanted to reach the shore. She knelt at its side and put her hand down, let the cold, shifting sea slide through her fingers like she wanted to capture it. And all the while she was smiling. Sam stood at her side, looking out over into the distance, almost like he could see his father, feel his father, out there. He felt his smile flicker, but looked quickly down to Quorra to bring it back. They did not speak for some time, he just watched her enjoy the sea. He felt a warmth on his face, his eyes no longer had to strain to see her pale face. She did not seem to notice
"Quorra," he murmured when he could resist no longer. She looked up to him and for the first time, noticed the first rays of the breaking sun, shining over the distant hilltops. The golden rays shot out, illuminating all in their path, casting a shining, flickering sheen over the darkness of the water. It was illuminated for only a moment in complete silence, a silence of life bleeding back into the world, or hope springing up from the oblivion. Quorra stepped back so she could see both at the same time, the light from the hills, the darkness of the water, shining and blending together in a million patterns that had no end or containment. He stepped back with her and watched as well, felt the heat pouring in, and he close his eyes looking out into the sea. His father was out there somewhere, watching him, watching them.
"He's closer than we think, just over the edge I think," Quorra murmured, reading his thoughts. She had a way of doing that. He turned to look at her, standing in the wet sand, shaking with pent up nerves threatening to burst free. Her eyes had never been wider. He reached a hand out, offered it palm up. She took it carefully and he stepped back to her side so they could watch it together, the unfolding of their own private miracle, the miracle he had missed so many days until he had met her. He felt one of her hands tighten in his own and with her other she had gripped the hood of his jacket, stepping slightly behind him as if to shield herself from the strength of the growing sun. And he knew she was smiling, he could just feel it in the way she was breathing. She leaned her chin down onto his shoulder, the same as she had done on the motorcycle, in free and unbroken peace. He felt himself slip into it too and he titled his head sideways into hers so they touched.
"How did you know this would happen?" she whispered.
"It happens every day. Most people are just too blind to see it."
"Their eyes don't see it?"
"Oh they see it, but they don't understand it, not like you do."
"But I don't. There's so much I don't know." He smiled and closed his eyes, felt the cold spray and the warm rays.
"You know more than I do. You're the teacher now."
"What am I teaching you?"
"How to live again." Quorra tilted her head and looked sideways at him. He turned his head to meet her eyes.
"I'm not teaching you."
"No?"
"I'm reminding you. We never stop living Sam, that's what your father told me." Sam smiled.
"Smart man."
"The smartest. I can feel him out there, he's waiting for us to do something, something great," she whispered.
"I can feel him too," he whispered, copying her. She giggled at this.
"I know." Sam turned in the sand to look up to the sun, and lifted one arm to wrap around her shoulders. They walked down the beach, one eye to the light, the other to the dark, sandwiched right between. He felt Quorra bouncing at his side as she glanced from shell to shell caught in the sand. Sam looked back out to the water a final time and nodded his final farewell, a mere dip of the head, something from both of them.
"Good-bye dad." He looked to the woman next to him. "And thank you."