At the back of every person's mind- sleeping, lying dormant- is an inevitability. A quandary to their existence. A question that Pearl could never answer. What permanence can they offer to a world that only gives them a short hundred years to live? For most, the issue comes to their attention only when they realize that their days are, in fact, finite. And for every moment they do not spend building something that can outlast them, they are one moment closer to disappearing. Traceless. An inkling of a memory in a sea of thoughts that will eventually fade.
But, despite their fragile existence, some humans manage to leave behind something... timeless. It was an astounding trait of theirs that always amazed Pearl. And it wasn't the ones who conquered nations or built empires or erected anything to their own glory. Those waned with the will of the weather, or the sway of a people's hearts. No; it was the ones who found something new. A single drop of insight into the vast sea of knowledge- the source from which all humans learn from and build off of- that will last. At least, for as long as human civilization does.
Pearl frowned. She had never found out what causes some humans to wake from their mortal stupor and strive for something lasting. But what troubled her greater was that some Gems- no, many Gems- never find out either. They steal the life out of any planet they happen upon, they tarnish it down to its warm core, and they move on. They erect fantastically complex feats of engineering and wisdom, and they watch them crumble into the sea. Because they can; because there's always another planet. There's always another bastion of life and warmth waiting for Gem control. And a legacy? What worth is a legacy when all of time is laid out before you, waiting for you to act and think and create? No- many Gems never find a worthwhile calling. For themselves, or for each other.
Except for you, Rose.
Pearl sighed. Gems have a choice. They can choose whether they want to spend their days on something as eternal as they are. Whether they want to leave something behind. Humans? They are pushed to it. They must, or they disappear.
I can still choose, Pearl ruminated, making her way down the shoreline to Greg's car-wash. For now, I guess I'll just... scout out the prospects.
Pearl had made sure to leave the beach house that morning precisely at nine fifty-five. That gave her exactly five minutes to reach the car-wash, at which time it will be ten o'clock and the car wash will open for business.
Then, as Alan's contractual obligation compels him to be on time for work, I will arrive right when he does. A fool-proof plan!
Pearl held her head high, preparing to revel in the moment when all the pieces of her self-arranged puzzle came perfectly together. But as she approached the car-wash, she heard a familiar pair of voices in the air. Both dismayed, both flailing in pitch and garbled syllables, but one noticeably more coarse and middle-aged. Pearl's brow furrowed as she prepared for the worst.
Just how much danger can one encounter at an establishment that serves no other purpose than cleaning vehicles?
As she rounded the corner of the main building, Pearl stopped dead in her tracks. There, at the center of the car-wash's cracked pavement, was Alan. Soaking wet, very distressed, and wrestling with some sort of large, green serpent.
No, wait- that's a hose.
A hose that was very angrily gushing water into the morning air, covering Alan, and everything around him, with a high-pressure deluge that the young physicist seemed hopeless against. Greg was standing a safe distance away, holding the sides of his head and glancing back and forth between Alan and the once-tame cleaning implement going wild in his hands.
"Woah! Hold on kid, help's comin'!" Greg bravely declared. He ran through Alan's morning shower to a spigot on the side of the main building. Then, gritting his teeth, he grabbed the valve and spun it has hard as he could.
...increasing the hose's flow dramatically and knocking Alan to the ground. Pearl watched the pair finally get the large, rubber tube under control, which involved a lot of panicked valve-twisting and a lot of Alan squirming around helplessly on the pavement. Pearl might have helped, but she knew she could not repair the damage that the scene had caused to her opinion of Alan.
I... underestimated how fool-proof my plan would have to be, the spectating Gem concluded, making a mental note to factor Alan's morning commute, how early he intended to show up to work on average, and how much time she thought they would waste wrestling with cleaning equipment into her next batch of time-estimate calculations. Alan spent a couple of long, relatively peaceful seconds lying on his back on the pavement, as though he wasn't sure it was worth it to continue a day that was already going so poorly. Brow still furrowed, though now more in incredulity than concern, Pearl marched up to Alan and stared down at his soaked face.
"Good morning. Is... this a bad time?"
With a small yelp, Alan quickly righted himself and stood with a shaky, water-logged motion. "No! Nothing about this time is bad. Except for the, uh, hose... thing. That- that I guess you saw."
"Sorry about that, kid!" Greg waved sheepishly from across the pavement, spooling the hose into a messy pile next to its valve. Pearl sighed, slapping a hand to her brow.
"Yes, the hose thing. It was... quite the feat."
Alan laughed nervously, trying as best he could not to touch himself with his cold, dripping clothes. "So, what can I help you with?"
What can you help me with?
"I was wondering if we might discuss something."
Alan perked noticeably, splashing Pearl with a small drizzle of clothes-water that made her shiver. "I-is it about my paper?"
"That quaint document that you formulated is relevant to the topic at hand-"
"Then yes, we can absolutely discuss something!"
Alan took a step, remembered that he was sopping wet, then gave Pearl an abashed look and ran for his closet. When he returned with a relatively dry outfit, Pearl was tapping her foot impatiently. "Okay, now I can speak without, you know... being covered in water."
Pearl nodded with half-interest. "That's great. But may we go somewhere less of a, um... car-wash?"
"I suppose- what did you have in mind?"
"Hmm," Pearl mused.
Okay. To elicit the most natural response from him, I should choose a location that he associates with meeting me. Thus far, we have met at three locations: Greg's car-wash, the beach house, and the library. As we are trying to leave the car-wash, only two of those locations are valid. And, of the two, the one where we have encountered each other most frequently is the library. Therefore, to have the most positive and familiar influence on Alan, we must go to the library. Yes, this is a sound plan!
Pearl donned a sly, victorious grin, which Alan met with a tense, unsure smile.
"We're going to the library."
Pearl stepped methodically through a row of fresh, book-ladened shelves, neatly arranged and carrying a soft hint of new wood and varnish. The Gem smiled- such ordered organization and logical placement put her mind at ease. She was sure she had seen a lounge area the last time she visited, but, much to her regret, she hadn't taken note of the subjects proximal to it. More concerning, however, was how tense and jittery Alan was acting. Pearl shot a worried glance behind her. Alan was following several paces too far back, stopping very suddenly whenever Pearl as much as slowed down.
Hm. I was sure this place would make him feel more comfortable. What would Steven do in a predicament like this?
"Alan, are you feeling out of place? You're acting as though you're in some measure of discomfort."
Oh, that didn't really sound how I meant it to. How has that little boy managed to figure all this out?
"H-haha, discomfort? Me? Nooo..."
Pearl narrowed her eyes suspiciously. She halted mid-stride. Alan, predictably, stopped as well, almost tripping over his own feet.
Oh no. Have I conditioned Alan to fear me when I'm in the library?
"I just don't want to bump into you. Again. And fall all over the place like, um, last time," Alan offered in explanation. "Or, you know, make you run away to take care of more dryers or... something."
Pearl felt heat rush to her cheeks. I can't believe I thought that excuse would sound valid. No, wait, that isn't accurate. I never believed it would sound valid, but I used it anyway and that's even worse.
"O-ho, yes, about that. Well, you see... I was, actually- how should I put this... lying," Pearl admitted, letting the last word catch on her tongue and slip slowly into the open air.
"Yeah! No, I mean, that's what I figured. I just didn't want to be rude about it or anything."
Would that be considered rude? I would have been the first person to call me out if I had said something like that to me. Hm. Which is probably the reason I'm having such a hard time now.
Pearl checked on her charge again. She found, to her relief, that he was following at a more typical distance behind her. His shoulders weren't as tensed up as they were earlier, and he was allowing himself to look at more than just the floor directly in front of his feet. Pearl congratulated herself, grinning and tilting her head up, just so, in victory.
Ah, I see. By admitting my mistakes, I make myself seem more flawed and, thus, more approachable. Hah! See that, Steven? You're not the only one with social clout.
The Gem stopped abruptly when she noticed where they had wandered into. Before them was a collection of comfortable, single-body armchairs, adorning a small clearing in the forest of shelves surrounding the lounge. Before she could pick a chair to sit in- the cleanest one, if she could- Pearl felt something weak push against her back, followed by a quiet thud on the floor behind her.
Again?
Confirming her suspicions, Pearl turned around to find Alan sitting on the floor, dazed. With a sigh, she tentatively offered him a hand. "You know, perhaps you should look where you're walking."
Alan stared at the extended limb, causing Pearl to raise an eyebrow in doubt.
Was this the correct gesture? Maybe if I withdraw my hand I can still-
"Thank you," Alan beamed, grabbing her hand. Pearl pulled him up with ease- like plucking a jacket off the floor- and, as soon as he was stable, very efficiently removed her hand from his.
As long as his hand-using habits remain unknown to me, I cannot assume that they are clean, Pearl thought, shaking her fingers suspiciously. She took a seat in one of the chairs- the cleanest one, she made sure- and, following her cue, Alan claimed the one across from her.
Alright. Now that we are in a comfortable, familiar place, a conversation may commence.
The pair stared at each other, locked in a strange game of conversational chicken; Pearl, certain that a dialogue would spring naturally out of thin air at any moment and unwilling to break the delicate environmental balance she had crafted, and Alan, reluctant to speak on the off chance that Pearl hadn't started the conversation for a good reason.
Hm. This isn't how this is supposed to go at all. I suppose I should start with some- what was it called- small talk?
"So, Alan," Pearl probed, "where are you from?"
"Oh, I'm from around."
That is hardly specific enough to constitute appropriate small talk.
"Around...?" Pearl urged.
"Hm? Oh! Around the, uh... area?"
Which area?
"And that area would be...?" Pearl continued, raising an eyebrow.
"Delmarva?" Alan offered uncertainly, eliciting a nod from Pearl affirming that he had completed the chain of questions correctly.
"Oh! Delmarva! How wonderful. I, too, am from 'around,'" Pearl said, forming air quotes to qualify her use of the term 'around.'
It was Alan's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Around...?"
Oh, how could that possibly have been ambiguous? We have already defined 'around' as 'the area,' and 'the area' as 'Delmarva.' But, for the sake of common ground...
"Around the area. The area of Delmarva."
"Then is 'around' where you're originally from?"
Pearl opened her mouth to begin proudly regaling him about the temple and the myriad places she'd been prior and the various distinct definitions of the concept 'originally from,' especially relative to where she was now, that she could base her answer off of. But, before a single, incriminating syllable could pass her lips, the Gem had a thought.
I haven't decided how much to reveal to him.
Her mouth snapped shut, causing Alan to jump slightly in his chair.
What was I thinking, I can't just tell him I'm from outer space! That is far from a regular place to be from. But... if I'm going to be teaching him anyway, then does lying now benefit anyone? He may not even believe me; he may just try to 'not be rude.'
With an unsure look, Pearl opened her mouth again. Then, remembering that she hadn't actually decided what to say, she closed it.
If I start lying now- no, if I keep lying now- what value does anything I say have? If he has to devote his mental faculties to filtering through what is true and what is false... just how much can I possibly teach him like this?
She grew more concerned, a mental state that expressed itself in the furrow of her brow and the idle movement of her hands. Alan started an empathetic fidgeting, shifting about in his seat.
"If you don't want to talk about it, then- well, it's not like you have to tell me or, you know, anything like... like that."
Pearl's eyes widened. That's right; I don't have to tell him everything, and I don't have to lie to him. If... if he understands that, then maybe...
"Why did you come here?"
Even as she said it, the question surprised Pearl. But even more surprising was the lack of delay in Alan's response. It was a response that would stay with Pearl for some time to come. And every time she looked at Alan, the twisting, interconnected modules of her memory would link her, if only ever so faintly, to the way he was at this very moment; the hushed intensity in his voice, the spark of excitement near imperceptibly widening his eyes, the genuine smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. And the words that formed from his lips.
"To discover something fantastic."
A hush fell over the pair. One that Pearl didn't want to break, lest she disturb the dusty, book-scented air that still carried the echo of his words. And one that Alan simply didn't know how to deal with, from a social perspective.
Is this the person I want to entrust my knowledge to?
Some small part of her, still grappling with Alan's response, gave her a decisive, enthusiastic affirmation. But the rest of her, grounded in wisdom, caution, and care for more than the fleeting emotions of the here-and-now, stayed her hand.
No, this is something that deserves more than a minute's deliberation. Think, Pearl. You have all the time in the world.
Daring a glance at Alan, Pearl saw that he was back to looking at the ground and shifting about in his seat nervously.
I have all the time in the world. But I don't have to spend it doing nothing.
Pearl stood abruptly. To her slight amusement, Alan stood with her, not wanting to be left behind or commit some social faux-pas.
"W-wait," the flustered physicist stammered, "I- well, I thought we were going to be talking about my paper-"
"I said that it was relevant to our discussion, not that it would be the centerpiece of it," Pearl said with an air of satisfaction at her own mastery of semantic exactness. "And it was relevant. Now, I believe I-"
Wait, nothing untrue.
"-wish to... leave. And so I will. Thank you for speaking with me-"
What's a proper salutation for this situation? Oh, I'll just use his name. Surely that's personal enough without being too intrusive.
"-Alan."
"Oh, um, not a problem. It was... nice, Pearl."
As Pearl lead them out of the library, with Alan following even farther behind than before, a small smile spread across her face.
Yes, tomorrow. Tomorrow, I can choose. No- tomorrow, I get to choose.