Matte Lilac Pearl

Every Gem is created with a certain degree of knowledge. Basic skills, background information, a base level of competency. They will still need to be trained, of course, but they have enough information about the universe and their role in it that they can immediately begin work on any task that they're assigned.

As such, when Pearl first emerges and is given her position, she is aware enough to know that it is unusual.

She makes no comment on it, but the Kindergarten Technicians processing her do. "Really?" the first one says. "She's being given to a morganite?"

"Apparently," responds the other, as she types away on her computer. "Said she wants an extra pair of hands around the lab."

"And she couldn't do better than a pearl?"

Those are the words humming through her head as Pearl warps for the first time, as she's lead through a twisting labyrinth of sterile white corridors, as she's finally lead to her post. A plain white door, with a hand-locked keyed to a specific gem signature. She's allowed inside, and is met with a laboratory. One filled filled with gleaming glass equipment, vials of bubbling liquids, huge computer screens covered in line after line of code and data.

Those are the words burning in her when she first meets her master, Morganite.

Morganite is a head taller than Pearl, though almost as slender. She has long, clever fingers, and a harsh, severe expression. Her clothes are simple and practical, her purple hair short, so as not to catch on anything dangerous. She is a scientist and an inventor, and Pearl is to be her aide.

This is not what pearls are made for. Pearl knows this. But seeing her new post, she realises; she will have to do better than a pearl.

So she watches, and she learns, and she works.

She holds and carries beakers, vials, cylinders, always careful not to spill; the chemicals inside are dangerous and delicate. She measures and pipettes them. She studies mathematics, statistics, gemetic code. She listens to instructions and obeys them carefully. She monitors instruments, records data, notes any changes. She reports everything she finds.

Morganite is not sweet, nor soft. Her voice is clipped, her tone is sharp, and she expects her instructions to be followed to the letter. Morganite is, above all, a professional.

But she is not unkind. She listens to Pearl when she has something to say. And when Pearl does well, she commends her. Sometimes, she even gives Pearl a well-earned smile.

It is a satisfying feeling. Not quite as satisfying as finding the results to a perfectly executed experiment, but satisfying, nonetheless. Perhaps this isn't the role pearls were made for, but she feels suited for it, nonetheless. She is an excellent aide. Other pearls can dance and relay messages; this Pearl is perfectly satisfied with calculations, data and experiments.

Never did she suspect that she was an experiment herself.

One of Pearl's main contributions to the laboratory is navigating the computer system. Morganite is many thousands of years older than her, and while this grants a great deal of intelligence and experience, it also means that she's somewhat slow at adapting the more recent computer operating systems. She can use them, but is far slower and more clumsy at navigating the interface, so for the most part, she's happy to allow Pearl write and access files.

Morganite is out at a meeting, leaving Pearl to do preliminary research for their next project. It's something of a mystery, and Pearl only has basic information to work on— something about Kindergarten efficiency. She's digging deep through the system, trying to find original reports for fact checking. It's taking a while; many of the older files are poorly organised, and can be difficult to track down.

Then she comes across one which sticks out to her, only because it is unfamiliar. It is not dated. Its naming doesn't fit any traditional format, and its title offers little explanation as to its subject.

Since there's nothing that gets a scientist twitching quite like a mystery, Pearl clicks on the file titled 'Project Adaptation'.

The file's subtitle is more informative. It says: 'On the Training of Presumed Sub-Optimal Gem Typings into Unconventional Roles for the Advancement of Gem Society'.

She doesn't read it aloud, yet the words seem to echo, making some part of her feel dull and hollow. Unable to stop, Pearl reads. She makes her way through the abstract; the background information; the experiment proposal; the outline…

She is about a quarter of the way through the experimental logs when there's there whoosh of the lab's automatic door. Pearl stifles a yelp, tries to stand at attention while frantically attempting to tab out at the same time. She's too slow. A shadow falls over her.

"Ah," says Morganite. "I see you've found 'Project Adaptation'."

There's no use lying.

"Yes," Pearl says.

"How much did you read?"

"Enough."

Morganite eyes close. And through the numbness, the horror, the embarrassment, Pearl feels anger rise. She should stay silent, should be quiet— but she can't, and the words burst out of her. "Is this all I am?" she demands, yells. "Just— just a test? An experiment? 'Sub-Optimal'?" She quotes the proposal; "An assessment into the possibility of adapting pearls to other roles in order to make their production more cost-effective?"

But what else could she be? What else could she have ever been? Pearls aren't made to work in labs. They are made to dance, and sing, and hold things, and be pretty. Why else would they possibility assign her to a role from so far out of her field, if not as part of some grand experiment?

But she'd never even considered. She'd let herself get deluded into thinking she was something else— an inventor, a scientist, an equal—

"Pearl," Morganite says. "I'm sorry."

Pearl stops. Tense, faced flushed, she watches as Morganite falls into a seat at the nearest work table. The other Gem runs a hand of her face. "I should have realised you'd discover the truth. I should have told you. But… yes. You're part of an experiment. An important one.

"There's an… opinion, among certain groups of Gems. An opinion that the current system— the system of assigning each Gem type to a specific role, and only ever training them in that role— is limiting. That we could accomplish so much more, all of us, if only given the chance.

"I wanted empirical evidence. Irrefutable proof that Gems could learn roles outside their designated purposes. So I proposed a study to test my hypothesis. You're part of that study."

Pearl forces her voiced to be detached, clinical, when she asks, "Why a pearl?"

What she means is: why me?

"Practicality, foremost," says Morganite. "I knew they'd never allow me to use a rare or highly specialised Gem for the test. Pearl duties are seen as non-essential, so they could afford to spare one. Not to mention that although Pearls are coveted, their rarity is artificially constructed. Pearls are, in fact, relatively fast to produce. Part of my proposal argued that, should pearls be proven trainable in other positions, new batches could be produced more quickly and efficiently than Gems of other types. It was a tempting prospect, one that they couldn't turn down out-of-hand. And..." Morganite begins to say, but then she trails off.

Pearl narrows her eyes. "And what?"

Morganite sighs, again. The sound is heavy and bitter and wistful. "And there were… stories. Rumours, legends, almost. They say that there was once a Pearl who rose above her station— that she was a warrior, a scientist, and a general. I wanted to see if the results could be replicated." Morganite droops, as though drained, exhausted. Her holds her head in her hands. "It was foolish."

Pearl's anger feels drained. She's never seen Morganite like this. "It doesn't seem foolish to me. Replicable results is the foundation of the scientific method."

Morganite looks up, offers her a wan smile.

"So," Pearl says, voice trembling a little. "Have the results matched your hypothesis?"

"They have." Morganite stands, strides towards her, puts a hand on her shoulder. It's the first time she's ever touched her. "You've performed perfectly, Pearl. You're intelligent, adaptable, quick thinking. You've proven yourself exceptionally capable."

Pearl's core burns with pride.

Pride, but something else too. She tries to put a word to the feeling. Joy? Excitement? Curiosity?

Yes, all of that. But also— eagerness.

Pearl's part of an experiment, yes. But an important experiment, a successful one! Her face splits into a grin. "So— when are you going to report your findings? I know I'm only the first stage of the experiment, I read the report— when are moving onto the next? One is far too small a sample size to prove anything. Can we get more pearls to train? Or perhaps another Gem type entirely— I saw you suggest both rubies and corals—"

"Pearl." Morganite raises a hand. "There isn't going to be a next stage in the experiment."

"But—" Pearl stammers, her momentum gone. "Why not? You have it all planned-"

"Because they're afraid," she snarls. "They don't care about evidence or rationality. They don't want to see the truth. They don't want to believe that a Pearl could be smart or capable. Because if that happens, what does that mean for everyone else? There was a rebellion over this, Cycles and Cycles ago. The Diamonds won't risk another one.

"Haven't you noticed Pearl?" Morganite asks, suddenly. "How I work in this laboratory, completely alone, except for you? No other morganite dares to associate with me. I don't blame them. I'm this close to being shattered! This close. Shattered, with you along with me." She was pacing now, her gem glowing brilliant pink with fury and frustration. "So they're shutting it done. No continuation, no publicised results. No one's allowed to know."

Pearl's shivering. Shivering.

She doesn't want to die. She doesn't want her Morganite to die either.

"What can we do?" she asks.

Morganite stops. Looks at her. "We toe the line."

Abruptly, Morganite moves towards the door. For a moment, Pearl thinks she's going to storm out, but she doesn't. Instead, she picks up a bag. Pearl hadn't noticed it before, in her anger and frustration, but Morganite must have brought it in with her. "What's that?" she asks.

"Our last chance," says Morganite. "I'm a heretic, and the Diamonds would be quite content to kill me. But Morganites are difficult to produce, and I'm useful, so they're willing to let me live as long as I produce results. So they've given me a new assignment with which to prove my loyalty.

"Older Gems, it seems, are having difficulty adapting to new technology." Morganite smiles ruefully, acknowledging her own weakness. "Of course, you've proven that pearls can adapt quite easily, but they refuse to acknowledge that. No, instead they want me to design an entirely new Gem-type. Intelligent, science-oriented, but not as high ranking as morganites. Technicians. A Gem to manage structures and systems throughout the Empire, able to keep pace with advancing technology. This is the mineral they've chosen for the purpose."

Throughout the speech, Morganite began to pull five boxes out of the bag and lay them in a neat line across the nearest counter. Now, she lifts the lid off each box one-by-one, to show the mineral samples inside. Pearl inspects them critically. She vaguely recognises them from photographs from a report she read not long ago. If she recalls correctly, they're from one of the more newly acquired planets, one still early in the colonisation process.

Though all the same mineral, these samples differer drastically in purity and quality. The one at the far right is a large, rough stone, predominantly grey in colour, but with veins of green running through it. The rocks grow steadily greener the further left they're position. The second-to-last box holds a stone who's left side is entirely covered in small, green crystals. The final stone is easily the most splendid: about the size of a fist, it glitters in the laboratory lights, a light pure green all the way through.

This is not a Gem. It is just a gemstone, natural, unworked. But it is filled with potential.

Pearl remembers the mineral's name. "Peridotite."

Morganite nods.

Already, Pearl's mind is filling with ideas, possibilities. A technician? Well— you'd want them to be cheap to produce, but since their turnover rate would be relatively low, you could afford a longer incubation period. You'd want a smaller Gem, someone who could easily fit into small places.

Then again, it would sometimes be helpful for them to be larger— to carry equipment, to minimize the chance of damage. But maybe— maybe their projected bodies wouldn't have to be that large? Could there be a way to vary their size post-incubation, without resorting to the energy drain of shapeshifting? Perhaps— perhaps instead they could use robotic enhancements of some sort?

Yes! Yes, that would be perfect. These are technicians. Build into them the inherent ability to interact smoothly and directly with technology, to the point where they always have personal computers— Maybe they could even use those new, experimental holographic screens—

It's Morganite's voice that breaks her out of her wild speculation, draws her back to the present. "Sorry?" says Pearl. "Could you repeat that?"

Morganite's looks amused. "I said— will you help me with Project Peridot?"

Pearl can't say 'yes' fast enough.

oOoOoOo

Author's Note: I'm back! Wisdom teeth removal went smoothly, and after getting over it and some writer's block, expect more regular updates.

Also, I've been trying and trying to get the outgoing link to the piece of fanart I mentioned last chapter to work, but alas, no matter what I do, the site just redirects it to my profile. If anyone has any idea how to stop that from happening, drop me a line.