I’m rambling again. Stop talking.
But she couldn’t seem to stop. The words kept spilling out, tumbling over each other in their eagerness to escape.
“I have so many questions. About the settlements, about your pack, about what it’s like to walk through the jungle and feel the ground under your feet. About food that isn’t synthesized or grown in a greenhouse. About... About everything. And you could tell me. If you wanted. If you don’t have somewhere else to be.”
He was silent for so long that she began to worry she’d offended him somehow. Made herself seem desperate or pathetic. Maybe people in the outside world didn’t ask strangers to stay with them. Maybe there were social protocols she didn’t understand or unwritten rules she’d violated.
“Please,” she added, softer now. “I know it’s a lot to ask. You came here looking for something, and I don’t even know what that is. But if you could just?—”
“I’ll stay.”
The words were rough, almost reluctant, but they flooded her with relief so intense it nearly buckled her knees.
“You will?”
“For a while.” He held up a hand, forestalling whatever she’d been about to say next. “I have questions too. About this tower, about you, about how any of this came to be. It seems we both have things to learn.”
Her face split into a smile so wide it hurt. She couldn’t help it—happiness was welling up inside her like water from a spring, unstoppable and overwhelming. Another person was going to stay. She was going to have someone to talk to, someone toshare meals with, someone who existed outside the confines of speakers and data streams.
“I should make dinner,” she said, the words tumbling out in a rush. “Real dinner, not just nutrient packets. I have fresh vegetables from the garden, and there’s protein stock in storage, and I can make bread. Susan taught me to make bread when I was ten, and I’m quite good at it now?—”
“Liora.”
She stopped, breathless, and found him almost smiling. Not a full smile—she wasn’t sure his face knew how to do that—but something close. Something warm.
“Dinner sounds good,” he said.
She beamed at him again, then spun towards the stairs before she could embarrass herself further. Her feet flew down the metal treads, her mind already racing through recipes and ingredients. She wanted to make something special, something impressive, something that would show him she wasn’t just a lonely woman locked in a tower but a capable person with skills and knowledge and value.
Slow down,she told herself.You’re acting like a child.
But she couldn’t slow down. Excitement was fizzing through her veins like carbonated water, making everything seem brighter and more vivid than it had been that morning. The walls of the stairwell, usually so familiar she barely saw them, seemed to glow with possibility. The hum of the tower’s systems, constant background noise she’d long since stopped hearing, felt like music.
She burst into the kitchen level and immediately began pulling ingredients from storage. Carrots, onions, and herbs from the greenhouse. Protein stock that could be transformed into something resembling meat with the right techniques. Flour and yeast and salt for bread.
“You seem agitated,” ARIS observed, its voice emerging from the kitchen speakers with its usual calm. “Your heart rate is elevated, and your movements are showing signs of nervous energy.”
“I’m not agitated. I’m happy.” She set a pot on the heating element and began chopping onions. “There’s a difference.”
“The physiological indicators are similar.”
“The emotional context isn’t.” She scraped the onions into the pot, savoring the sizzle as they hit the hot surface. “Ari, I have a guest. A real, living person who’s going to eat dinner with me. Do you understand what that means?”
“I understand that you have been isolated for an extended period and that novel social interaction is causing a significant dopamine response. I am... pleased that you are experiencing positive emotions.”
Something in the AI’s tone made her pause, knife hovering over a carrot.
“But?” she prompted.
“I have concerns about the visitor’s intentions. His questioning of my protocols suggests a potential desire to alter your circumstances in ways that could compromise your safety.”
“He’s curious. That’s not the same as dangerous.”
“Curiosity can lead to action. And action, in this context, could have serious consequences.”
She resumed chopping, her movements slower now. “What kind of consequences?”
“If Baylin were to convince you to leave the tower?—”
