Chapter 2: First Date

That morning, I was dreaming about Iris; we were just holding hands and talking in the dream. I don't know how long the dream actually was, but it felt like an hour. And then the dream Iris started to glow brighter and brighter and became an angel. I was in awe, and would have stared for a long time, but she got so bright I couldn't look at her anymore. The light got so bright that I woke up and realized that the sun was shining right in my eyes. Birds were chirping, and it was all like something out of a daydream, and I turned over in bed and burrowed under the blankets to keep out the sun. I wanted to sleep, and dream of Iris more, but after what felt like 15 minutes, I knew it was no good, so reluctantly I got up and began my day.

Unlike the day before, I was calm. I guess it was because I knew Iris, and however well or badly the date went, it was probably unlikely to end in anything worse than just being friends and no more. Sure, I probably could have corrected myself with all the many horrible ways things could go wrong, including horrible accidents where we both tragically lose our lives, or I heroically sacrifice my own to save Iris's (which I would totally do for any child, even one I didn't know, but for kids I didn't know, I would probably at least hesitate a second or two first), but, well, I try not to think that way. I don't always succeed, but if I catch myself starting to go down roads like that, I can usually redirect my own thoughts. Didn't need to it that morning, though.

I sat down with a bowl of cereal to watch some three-vee cartoons as though I were Iris's age instead of 30 (hey, give me a break, I'm only 10 years out of my adolescence, and I have about 140 years of life left to live!). I hadn't dressed yet, so I was still in panties and an over-sized t-shirt that served as a night shirt. As I ate, a part of my mind looked forward to the day when Iris and I could do a morning routine like this together. This made me lose track of the show's plot as I daydreamed about the ways that could happen. I was unsurprised to find that it didn't matter how it happened; even just having her kip in the spare bedroom, everything totally platonic – just two friends having a sleepover, was enough for me. Maybe it was too soon to know, but nonetheless I knew she was my soul-mate, whether the relationship would ever be ever sexual or not.

After breakfast I showered, shaving my legs as I did. Then I lounged around the house nude and sat on the couch, the three-vee off, reading a biography of Barack Obama, a man who had once been the President of a country called the United States of America. As I read it, some of the events I read about seemed so outlandish – mostly the work of the Republicans – that I wondered how badly the histories had been warped over the centuries. Surely nobody sane enough to be elected to public office would threaten to default on their country's loans and threaten economic collapse and possibly government downfall just to try to ruin a leader they didn't like? And surely no more than a couple people like that could ever exist at a time! This was starting to sound like a book about conspiracy theories, but less amusing. I put down the book with a snort of disbelieving disgust and picked up a novel instead. It was about creatures from outside of our reality trying to destroy us all, and sounded far more plausible to me.

Later, deciding what to wear was a lot easier than the day before. I didn't have to impress anyone I didn't know, so I just wore something comfortable but nice enough to get away with wearing at most church services. It was a purple dress with a black short-sleeved sweater, as it wasn't terribly hot outside, and we'd be mostly indoors anyway. All in all, it took me maybe half an hour to get ready and go out to the car, and I wasn't even trying to be fast.

Yes, I had walked to her house the day before, but this time we would be going downtown, so it made no sense to walk all the way there when I was just going to have to have the car pick us up anyway. Speaking of which, the silly car sounded almost annoyed as I turned it on and set the location, almost as though it was annoyed it was being woken up for such a short trip. This wasn't the first time I'd wondered just how smart the AI in my car really was, if maybe the rise of the machines was indeed almost upon us.

"Your journey is less than 10 blocks, Rianna," it said churlishly, "are you sure you wouldn't rather walk?"

"Don't be rude, Jeeves, you tangled neural net; I'm picking up a date and then we're going downtown. If I want advice, I'll ask."

"Yes, Rianna," it replied, chastised but still petulant. I put the seat back a little and placed my hands behind my head, relaxing as Jeeves – the car's AI – carefully backed up and drove exactly the speed limit the short distance to Iris's house. As we pulled up, Jeeves sent a message to the house's AI, but it was unnecessary, because Iris threw the door open hard enough to where, even from this distance, I could hear the house's AI chastising her, and ran out to the car. Out of courtesy, I got out and met her partway. Matria walked calmly up toward us as I met Iris. I looked her over, and was impressed by her pale pink dress and white leather sandals. As I reached her, I got down on one knee before my little darling, her face flashing with startled bewilderment until I took her hand in mine and kissed it gently.

"My princess," I addressed her. "Your coach awaits."

She blinked at me a moment, then sighed with visible relief and amusement. I raised a single eyebrow questioningly.

"Wow, for a moment there I thought you were gonna propose marriage, and I was gonna say you're getting ahead of yourself!"

I laughed at this and hugged her. "Also," she told me seriously, "I prefer to be addressed as 'My Queen' or 'My Royal Highness.'"

"Of course, my Queen," I answered, kissing her on the forehead. I looked up at Matria, who had reached us. "So, ground rules?"

"Yes. I want her back by eleven. And I want her back safe and happy. I'll understand if she's unhappy for something that wasn't your fault, but if it was your fault, well ... my response depends on what's happened."

"I'll guard her with my life, and get her home safely or die trying."

She chuckled. "Okay, I think that's a little excessive given the circumstances, but I'll take it."

"Wait, eleven? That late?"

"Well, the show ends at 10, so I'm taking into account driving time and, er..." she leaned forward and said quietly in my ear, "an after-show treat, if you feel inclined to offer it."

"Gotcha."

Iris frowned up at her mother. "Whatcha talkin bout that's so secret?"

"Nothing huge," Matria said, "I just didn't want to give you any ideas that she might not want to be pressured into."

Iris's frown turned into a very serious and yet hilarious attempt at side-eye, and we both chuckled at her expression. She just shook her head at rolled her eyes at the both of us.

"Any other ground rules?"

"Hmm ... I think that about covers it. Oh, one more: have fun, you two."

"We will, mama," Iris ran up to peck Matria on the cheek as I opened the door, then literally hopped in like a little bunny. I made sure her fingers and dress were clear before I closed the door and went around to the "driver's" side myself.

Once we got in, I told Jeeves we were headed to whichever Taco Tavio's was closest to the Metropolitan Centre. I put up my seat most of the way so I could see where we were, and to talk with Iris as the car drove us there. As it pulled away, Iris excitedly waved farewell to her mother.

"Lavernia Metropolitan Centre For the Fine and Performing Arts," Jeeves commented. "There is a showing of-"

"Yes, Jeeves, we know. No need for commentary. We have tickets. Just shut up and drive."

"Yes, Rianna," he said. I could practically hear him roll his eyes at me; or he would, if he had eyes rather than cameras. We ignored him and talked while he drove.

If you're unfamiliar with Paxum's traffic control system, it's simple. The cars are AIs, which can mimic human behavior and might possibly be alive, but there's been no proof yet. Anyway, they're connected to a traffic-only Mesh (as opposed to the primary Mesh we use for almost everything else, which back in the 21st century would have been called the Internet). The local Traffic Mesh, or Traffic Grid as some people call it, was comprised of every single car in the region, cameras that watched traffic flow and looked out for pedestrians and other hazards, the solar roadways that lit up wherever they sensed something potentially dangerous or in danger on them, and Processing Nodes, which are basically Mesh servers that keep track of it all and make corrections wherever needed. Thus car accidents are extremely rare on Paxum. Probably Lucem, too, but I don't know a lot about that planet. (Those solar roadways, by the way, supply the planet with 90% of its power, wind and water power getting the other 10%. Some places have fusion generators, too, but those are places that need a lot more power to do science experiments, unusually high-energy industrial stuff, and the like.)

After maybe 40 minutes of talking while Jeeves took us sedately to the taco place, which seemed like a lot less because of our conversation, he neatly pulled up to the door and informed us we were there. Excitedly, Iris flung her door open and slammed it closed, while I got out more gently so as not to irritate Jeeves too much. Once we were safely to the door and out of his way, Jeeves drove off to find a place to park himself.

"Iris honey," I said gently and quietly as we walked in, "from now on do you think you could open and close the doors of the car more gently? Jeeves gets irritated when people manhandle his doors."

"Oh okay, sorry bout that. I just was really excited. I'll try to remember that."

We sat down across from each other in a couple of booths, and picked up the e-scrip menu to study it. They apparently had sensors in them that read the sizes of our hands, or were connected via Mesh or private Intramesh to the restaurant's cameras, because Iris's menu tried to suggest the Kid's Menu to her, but mine did not do the same thing. She ignored its advice and insisted on seeing the normal menu. It complied without any fuss, as it wasn't complex enough to have a personality like Jeeves did. It was just a regular computer. Hundreds of times faster than anything the 21st century ever had, but still just a computer, not an AI.

Aside from giggling a little at "fish tacos," which I admit I did too, Iris was very serious while contemplating her choices. Finally, though, she chose a five-taco meal and a small drink.

"You gonna eat all that?" I asked in astonishment.

"Yup."

"You gonna be able to walk to the Centre without bursting or puking?"

She gave me a very pointed yet slightly amused look and said, "Yes, I'll be fine."

"If you insist," I said, the corners of my mouth twitching. I looked at her order again, noticing this time that she'd ordered the tacos with 5-alarm sauce on them. I opened my mouth to say something, but knowing Iris's intelligence as I did, I quickly shut it again. Either she knew what she was doing or she'd soon learn a very powerful lesson. As tempted as I was to say something, I figured it was more likely she knew what she was doing. Though that didn't stop me worrying enough to have a hard time concentrating on what I wanted to order.

Iris's menu must have assumed we were ordering together, because her order blinked "pending" while I continued to struggle. Finally, I decided to get what she was having, but with sour cream and shredded spinach on mine. Also I opted for 3-alarm sauce, not being brave enough for 5-alarm. I ordered, we submitted our orders, and while we waited for our food we went back to our discussion of Dargon's history book, which she had finished a couple nights ago, though she hadn't had a chance to get the next volume yet.

I was just beginning to add in comments about what I'd read in the Barack Obama biography I'd read that morning, when a woman in uniform brought our meals over to us. We thanked her and soon, we had our mouths too full of spicy tacos to do any talking. I almost choked on my food when Iris took a third bite of one taco with no sign so far that the taco was at all spicy, whereas I was already taking a drink to recover from my first bite, and mine was two alarms less spicy than hers. She noticed, and gave me a look that plainly said 'ha, told you so!' without words.

"I guess that'll teach me not to make any assumptions about you, Iris."

"Darn right," she said with a smirk before taking her first bite of a second taco.

For the most part, we quietly ate our tacos. I supposed Iris's reason was the same as mine: the food was just so good that, despite the heat of it, I wanted to savor the flavor, and whenever I swallowed, my mouth began to crave more. So there wasn't really time to talk while we were busy granting the wishes of our mouths.

Halfway through her third taco, Iris slopped some down the front of her dress. I started to go into panic mode, wondering if I was going to have to run to a clothing kiosk for a replacement, but she just wiped it off with a napkin, leaving no stain or even a wet spot behind. I was confused, and Iris noticed this. "Oh," she explained, "it's a meta-material fabric. Looks and even kinda feels like cotton, but it's designed so stuff just comes right off. Makes cleaning up after four kids a lot easier, according to Mama."

"Oh. Wow. I'll have to remember to get the template for that, it sounds dead useful. Do they still have to be laundered?"

She shrugged. "Not much. Mama just dunks em in plain water for a minute or two and then hangs them up. They dry in a couple minutes, since they don't retain water or much of anything else. They do it by wicking moisture away. Amazing to wear in the summertime, even more comfy than runnin around nudie." She winked at me with a grin as she took another bite of taco, and I blushed as I imagined her running around the house or even the yard nude. Of course, I knew she could; our culture not being into body shame or sex shame, anyone could go almost anywhere nude at pretty much any time. Exceptions were made for safety, of course, but otherwise nobody gave a shit one way or the other what, if anything, anyone wore. Well, most people anyway.

I chuckled inwardly as I ate some more of my taco. Iris was turning out to be a little flirt. She made it clear last night that she wasn't ready for any "kissy or sexy stuff" yet, but that didn't mean she couldn't flirt and tease. It wasn't encouraged behavior, but neither was it discouraged. The way our culture worked, you had a greater chance of being killed by a shark while being nowhere near water than you did of being sexually assaulted; most people on Paxum, if they got too "excited," would just run to a nearby restroom to rub one out, try to kill their own mood by thinking of something gross or boring, or else just stew in their own juices. Some people even got excited by that last one. As for me, her wink merely made me a little more flustered than I'd been before.

After she finished her tacos and her drink, Iris asked if I wanted my last taco. I refrained from making a comment about getting her hollow legs ahead of schedule, and simply shook my head. I was still hungry for it. She shrugged and looked back at the menu, though by her expression I think she wasn't really hungry enough to order anything else. Probably just her mouth still craving more taco.

Putting the menu down, she began to talk at me, apparently not expecting a response. "I could eat here every day, for every meal, if Mama let me. But she says tacos are a sometimes food, since I eat so many at a time. I try to come here at least once a week, though. Maybe you can come with me when I do. I can work round your work schedule." I half-grinned at her pronouncing the word like "shed-jull" but had my mouth full of the last bit of taco, so I couldn't respond.

Iris rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Oh wait, you have a lunch break I guess. So we could go on your lunch break, if you wanted to. Or I could bring you some to the library. Or, well ... no, on second thought I guess grease and librarians don't mix, at least not days they're working. Though I suppose you'd have to wash your hands anyway."

I chewed and swallowed, smiling at her prattle. I didn't mind that it wasn't her usual astute conversation, that it was more like the kind of prattle one would normally expect from an eight year old. I just liked hearing her speak, in that moment. Hearing that one-sided, half-to-herself babbling was like soothing music to me. It hadn't really dawned on me until that moment just how much I liked hearing her voice. There was something about its pitch and timbre that was almost hypnotic, but without dulling the mind.