OBSIDIAN: Birth to Venus

2119

By 2119, three years had passed since sentients had been discovered, and the search for the Eldest had grown cold, but interest in sentients had not. The networks reported on what they could: the science. They focused on one human scientist in particular: Dr. Jensen. At the forefront of sentient research, he’d published at length about “Patient X,” a male sentient whose data comprised the most significant contribution to sentient science thus far. Dr. Jensen guarded Patient X’s identity with the utmost care and, though his lab would have benefited significantly from the “donations” being thrown at him, he declined anything that required him to disclose Patient X’s identity. Dr. Jensen even went so far as to hire a liaison to handle the influx of network interviews, all of which he eschewed. Instead, he let his publication record speak for itself. But, instead of quelling the storm, the media hounded him, attending every conference talk he gave. They even televised his most recent public lecture. There, for the first time, Dr. Jensen released X’s birth year, a year no other confirmed sentient had surpassed: 2066.

Joy paused the newsfeed and laughed. “2066? He’s only 53 years old, Jai. Just imagine if they knew you’re a 2050 baby!”

“Don’t want to,” Jai said, leaning over the kitchen island. She stuffed her mouth with a slice of pizza, and mumbled, “Privacy’s just fine, thank you very much.”

Joy twisted on the couch, to look back over her shoulder. She flashed a knowing smile. “Can’t say I blame you,” she said, and turned her attention back to the news. “I wouldn’t want those vultures sweeping down on me, either.”

Jai laughed and popped a hot pepper into her mouth. “Which ones?”

“Take your pick. The newscasters. The scientists with their needles to poke and prod. The unending companies looking for another pretty face to endorse their product. I’m all for scientific posterity, but the Cover Girl offers were quite nauseating.” Joy motioned to the stack of mail from the latest fashion house that was after Jai. “Can’t say I’d mind taking a peek at Patient X, though. Maybe you could do a blind date, and I’d get some pretty grandkids out of it.” She laughed. “Or, X could look like a donkey’s ass, like that sentient in Denver. Did you see him?”

Jai shook her head and rolled her eyes. Dating was a foreign concept to her. Back in her 20′s, long before sentients had been discovered, she’d dabbled in dating. Eventually she’d given up, wondering what good would it do. Why put in the time and energy if she’d have to disappear a decade or so later, before her youthfulness outed her? Her 20’s were over. But, discovering sentients didn’t alter much. And, it had been decades since she’d been interested in anyone.

Joy did have a point, though. Many sentients were reportedly beautiful, but they were not universally so. Scientists emphasized their intellectual and athletic skills far more than their physical appearance. But, modern America? The news networks? Advertising? They were infatuated with looks. Over a century had passed since companies had started investing billions of dollars into youth-centric research. If it wasn’t a laser or a cream, it was a probiotic or other dietary fad. Now, “Youth In a Bottle” was a common advertisement plastered above a vial of sentient blood. Numerous companies were willing to pay top dollar to research sentient blood, to bring whatever sentients had to market for the regular, age-fighting populace.

Jai could appreciate the urge to appear young, but she’d grown numb to her looks. She had a penchant for hiding under baseball caps, hoodies, shawls, whatever took her fancy. Joy found it extremely humorous and let her know it was an exercise in futility. “Stop trying,” she would say. “You’ve grown increasingly beautiful with each passing year.” Jai’s long brown locks and thick eyelashes had a satin-sheen. Her high cheek bones emphasized a full, pillowy pout. Her ripe, supple breasts were the envy of her girlfriends. And, her legs went “on for miles,” as they say. Endless compliments blared in the background, with so many talent agents and modeling companies coming after her, asking her to pose for their latest edition, to walk the catwalk for their spring/summer show, to find someway, somehow to plaster her face and sprawl her body on some thing. After decades of headache, Jai finally resolved to wipe her electronic footprint clean. She anointed Caleb as a figurehead for her companies, and hoarded her privacy. A polite grin was all she could muster in public and, when that didn’t suffice, she put her telepathy to work. She’d found a way to hide herself, a mental cloak that shielded herself from view. A quick stare and she could distract anyone for a quick getaway. She didn’t bother to concern herself with the regret they would feel after they’d “lost” her in a crowd.

Jai closed the pizza box and carried the last slice to the couch. “Altogether I’m rather impressed with the public,” she said, handing Joy the pizza. “At least they’re approaching sentients with an open mind.”

“So far,” Joy said, only half-joking. She took a few bites and paused. “Humans have the capacity to accept change. Or not. Don’t be surprised if they fight it, kicking and screaming.” She swallowed, hard. “Which is the perfect segue-way…you’re meeting your new instructor tomorrow.”

“Come again?” Jai hated surprises.

“Jai, you know I haven’t been able to spar with you…physically, I mean. It’s been years. It’s not fair to you.”

“It’s fine, Joy. Our mental spars are enough.” Jai enjoyed their mental spars as much as their meditation sessions. When their minds synced, Joy was a force to be reckoned with, just as fast and lethal a fighter as she’d ever been.

Joy smiled. “I know I still kick your butt in there,” she said, tilting her head down. “But, that’s not what I’m talking about. Practicing martial arts is more than your mind, love. You need the physical component too.”

“Seriously, Joy.” Jai groaned. “I’m fine without it. It’s not like I’m wasting away over here.”

Joy pushed lightly against Jai’s arm, and put the last bit of pizza in Jai’s mouth, cutting off any excuse. “2 p.m. He’ll be waiting for you.”