2277-04-09: Orla

But above it all was Orla's mind. At only 20 years old, she was intensely inquisitive, with an innate grasp of the structure of reality. Her fierce independence, combined with her intelligence, dragged Richard's attention towards her like the scent of freshly baked apple pie wafting in from an open window. Orla's impressive intellect and her deep thirst for knowledge were palpable and infectious. Her unbridled curiosity about the world around her was a quality Richard found irresistible. It was this remarkable fusion of beauty, intelligence, and independence that drew Richard to her in the first place.

His very first impression of her had been when she noticed his Halo and she spoke to him using her own voice with ease and eloquence. Most colonists who had grown up with telepathy never learned how to speak, but Orla's ability to communicate with her voice showed a level of independence that Richard found intriguing. She whipped up a private cozy alcove with soft cushions and low light that made her innate glow infectious and questioned him for hours about his youth and the earth that was. Her curiosity seemed endless, and her ability to grasp concepts that were by now so entirely alien to colony life made an impression on the life-weary 277-year-old.

Their relationship began as a friendship, and Richard found himself looking forward to the hours he could steal away conversing with her. He actually learned more about colony life from her than he ever would have from directing its design and his observation walks. At only 20 years old, Orla was near the beginning of her labor stage, and she was a probe launcher. Although she detested her job because she knew that it was busy work that Janice could do easier and faster, she also saw the purpose of the labor stage. This caused some cognitive dissonance for Orla, but her love of learning pushed her through it.

Richard found her intellect and understanding of math and physics were unparalleled. She tackled these subjects for fun in her own time. Orla had the ability to take complicated theories and make them simple, weaving the concepts into sentences that anyone could easily understand. She cleared up a few concepts of the Eververse that had confused Richard for years. Her love for learning, coupled with her natural wit and charm, added a depth to her personality that Richard found irresistible.

As they spent more time together, Richard noticed that their relationship deepened into something more. Orla's hair would brush against his back, and he would feel the heat emanating from her skin, which would leave little trails of darker blue under his fingers that would quickly fade. He found himself flirting with her, and he noticed that she returned his attention with playful smiles.

Despite having been with a handful of women in the 140 years since ending his relationship with Brenda, they were mostly casual curiosities and three-week stands. Richard had never been in a serious relationship since Brenda and was startled and mildly frightened to find himself falling for someone as young as Orla. The difference in their age and experiences created a sense of discomfort that Richard could not ignore. However, the more time he spent with Orla, the deeper he fell for her, marveling at her youth, intelligence, and her fierce independence. The idea of opening his heart again terrified him, but he found himself drawn to her irresistible combination of beauty and intellect.

Their conversations evolved into dates, and they started to spend more and more time together. Their dates evolved into longer periods of shared time, where curiosity bloomed into affection. Orla tried to involve Richard in some colony pastimes, but lacking Janice's integration into his senses, he found it hard to appreciate the depth of these experiences. Yet this only spurred him into action, giving him the idea to recreate lost sensations. 

His plan took them on an Earth-inspired date, which involved the nearly lost art of eating. Utilising Janice's capabilities, Richard replicated a quaint patisserie nestled within a projected image of France, complete with a cobblestone street trailing up to the shop front. As they strolled almost hand in hand, Orla found herself caught in the marvel of the cerulean blue dome above — a simulated sky of Earth. It hadn't occurred to Richard to warn her about this human-made wonder and he watched as surprise registered in her jade eyes. 

A lone cardinal zipped by, its red pop distinguishing itself against the clear blue backdrop. She paused, her gaze following the bird. Richard watched as she accessed all available data on birds, a flicker of amazement crossing her features. Upon reaching the door to the patisserie, Richard stepped ahead, pulling open the door for her and gesturing her in with a small bow. He noticed a smirk pull at her lips, before she dipped her head to access the meaning behind his action. Laughter bubbled from within her as she understood the context, a sound that warmed Richard more than he expected.

Inside the shop, a mahogany-haired Parisian girl acting as their waitress arrived at their table and Richard ordered for them both. When their cream-filled eclairs arrived, Orla looked down at the unknown item with both curiosity and trepidation.

"Is this an advisable experience?" she questioned, her fingers carefully lifting the pastry.

"I believe you may enjoy it," Richard reassured, biting into his own eclair with a hum of delight.

Orla’s face twisted at her first bite, a direct contrast to Richard's pleasure-inducing reaction. Humour shone in his eyes as she pushed the pastry away, indicating she derived no enjoyment from the process of consuming food. 

"I don't think I understand the appeal," Orla said.

Despite her look of distaste, Richard laughed — the sound echoing around them. This alien experience only highlighted the bridge they were building between their two worlds — a tapestry of memories woven with laughter, information exchanges, and curiosity.

Richard's laughter only grew, savoring the rare moment of levity and comfort. In a world of fast-paced and demanding tasks, Orla's company brought happiness and contentment to Richard's life.

Despite her lack of appreciation for the intricacies of eating, Richard found Orla's gameness endearing. He watched as she cautiously followed his lead and sipped the aromatic orange tea. As the tea passed her lips, her hair came alive, wiggling and emitting a brief light show that startled him briefly but ultimately sparked his intrigue. In that moment, he found himself wondering what she would look like in the throes of passion. It was then that he realized that their relationship had progressed to that point. A desire flared within him, and he found himself hoping that she was feeling the same. 

"I'd like to show you my place,"  He said feeling very much like the school boy he resembled. 

"About fucking time," she said with perfect diction on the unfamiliar vernacular. She placed her hand gently on his as she took another sip from the delicate white china cups.

Paris melted behind them as they hurried away stopping only for her to alter from the uncomfortable time period clothes.

"Ugh, shoes," she shuddered. Colonists were always barefoot on the perfectly maintained floors, absorbing nutrients as needed. Even Richard had eventually abandoned footwear.

Now, as they stood outside Richard's room, he felt his hand perspire nervously against hers. It was the first time he'd brought anyone to his room as previously, he had always created temporary spaces during earlier assignations. But with Orla, he wanted something more permanent.

Orla approached the wall and almost walked into it before realizing that a passage had not appeared.

"Janice, Orla can always enter," Richard said to the air.

And a hole appeared in the wall.

Orla took in the near emptiness of the room and wondered whether Richard preferred a Spartan lifestyle or whether he simply didn't keep any permanent decorations. She did appreciate the large view screen; she might add one of those in her room. She also eyed the bed longingly.

She was surprised that they had to travel so far to reach it, being used to Janice's flexibility and ability to exhibit her dwelling on cue wherever she was. For Orla, the concept of a permanent room was foreign, and she couldn't quite wrap her head around it. Richard explained the significance of this space, revealing that it was where he had lived since his break-up with Brenda, and the reason he needed distance. Unlike Orla, he couldn't simply filter someone out of his perceptions.

Orla nodded, comprehending the fragility of human emotions and the way they affected perception. She wondered what Richard saw when he looked at her and whether or not his perceptions would ever shift towards deeper affections. For now, however, she simply took in the space, noting the casual seclusion it held and the glimmer of light from Richard's Halo illuminating the darkness.

Designed for space, she could see in almost total darkness. The light from the viewport and the Halo was far more than what was needed. Her irises changed instantly when Richard called for the lights, which Janice obliged with a low red romantic light.

"Wanna see something frightening?" he asked with an evil glimmer in his eye.

Without hesitation, she nodded trustingly.

"Janice, seclusion mode."

Orla felt as if the artificial gravity had suddenly been taken away. She swayed, her legs turning to jelly under her, and she barely avoided a stumble. Her breathing turned shallow and her heart pounded in her chest like a frantic drum. Her wide, jade-green eyes darted around the room, taking in the familiar, yet utterly alien surroundings. It felt constricting, claustrophobic, as if the walls were closing in on her. She felt severed, cut off from Janice's nurturing presence, like a child lost in a massive, intimidating, and lonely expanse. 

Suddenly, a horrifying realization washed over her - she was alone, truly alone, something she had never experienced before. Her world collapsed into silence, broken only by her quick gasps of breath. No comforting hum of collective consciousness in her mind, no connecting thread of empathy to the people and the world around her. She felt blind, deaf and mute in a way she had never known. 

Fear knotted in her stomach, an alien, unwelcome sensation. She tried to reach out, to call for Janice, but there was nothing, only an echoing void. It was akin to shouting into a vast, empty cavern, only to hear the echo of her own voice. This complete isolation was unknown to her, incredibly terrifying because even in the quietest of moments, Orla had never truly been alone, not until now. 

Her fingers gripped the edges of the couch, knuckles turning white with the strain. Her pupils dilated in terror, her glow dimmed, the strength it required to maintain her normal luminosity transferring instead to her fight or flight response. Panic bubbled up, a tide she could not push back, and then it broke free in a raw, visceral scream that filled the space around them. She folded onto the floor, hugging her knees closer, the soft sobs shaking her frame as she heaved for breath.

Shocked and confused, Richard shouted out, "Mushkin," what he had named his JANKI, "Whiskey Tango Foxtrot!"

Orla stopped screaming but looked at him as if he had betrayed her trust. It was a sight he hoped never to see again.

"What was that?" her voice tiny and infantile.

"I locked Janice out of the room," Richard said in a calming voice.

"Why... would anyone do that?" She was still close to tears.

"Privacy," Richard replied, and she looked at him like he had spoken insane gibberish.

They were both kneeling on the floor, and a couch formed under them. He held her tightly, whispering sweet apologies.

"That's just insane. We are so different," her voice shaking.

"I fear there will be lots of moments like these, cultural misunderstandings. Do you think this is worth pursuing?"

"Take me to bed and let me sleep on it," she said coyly with her first double entendre. 

The light show was even more amazing than he had imagined it could be.