Sisters

First Written    Sun Mar 22 02:53:31 2020
File Modified    Wed Feb 14 18:32:26 2024
Latest Upload    Thu Sep 19 03:09:54 2024

2 Names

The elevator ride felt twice as long as the jog from the parking lot, which in turn felt twice as long as the drive from Corpus Antecedent headquarters. Any period of waiting which separated him from her had followed this pattern. The few steps down the hall felt slower still, and time stopped as he waited to be buzzed into the Alliance City Hospital's penthouse suite.

Dr. Salustiana Yem sat up in her cot, scribbling notes into her journal. A stack of server blades sat next to her, cables neatly crossed in little loops like oversized crochet art. The whirr of her work machines beat the subtle beeps of medical monitors into submission and their very presence required the room's air conditioning to be running even during the winter evening cold.

"Hey Sal," Jay Yem greeted his wife with a kiss on the cheek, "What have you been working on?"

"You know what I've been working on, Jay," she said, cocking her head as she finished emptying her last thought into her keyboard.

"Hi Jay," greeted a woman's voice from one of Salustiana's terminals.

"Hello there," Jay responded, "You must be the 18th cell-net. It's nice to meet you."

"No," Salustiana corrected, poorly hiding a proud smile, "She's still the 17th."

"Wow. If I'm not mistaken, that makes her the longest stable one yet."

"Yeah. Any longer and I might have to name her."

The terminal's hue glowed white. "Careful", it warned, "If you pick a bad one, I might rebel."

Jay chuckled and opened up his travel bag. He pulled out a bouquet of sunflowers and an old plastic tub with a ribbon stuck on top.

"Flowers," Salustiana asked, "Why?"

"Not just any flowers," Jay highlighted, "Sunflowers. I know you like these. They're no substitute for real sunlight, but there's a real shortage of that in here and I know how much you love analogues. And these are samosas from Kuretes-"

"No! I'm not calling him that."

"He claims they're adequately spicy this time. I think he's bribing you."

"They should be," she insisted, opening up the tub, "His reputation is on the line."

Jay Yem watched his wife dig into a pastry. She used her supply of mint chutney at a reasonable pace, or at least she did as far as Jay could estimate. When she licked her fingers to pick up the crumbs on her lap, he handed her a wet towel.

"You're thinking about something," she poked.

"No, just watching you eat."

"Well, yeah, obviously. But simultaneously you are."

"Remember what we were talking about yesterday?"

"I knew it," Salustiana said while shaking her head, "Yeah, I've picked two. Salome and Anna."

"I see you've put a lot of though in," Jay remarked jokingly, "Do any of them get to be named after me?"

"You can name the boys," she teased.

Jay scratched his fingers through her hair. The infrequency of hospital showers and the darkness of its tone made for a bright but unwelcome sheen. He nudged her barrette - a butterfly - out of place enough to make her grunt and push it back.

"Jay," her tone changed, opting for less playfulness, "So, they froze my last batch of eggs today."

"I'm glad," Jay stuttered, "It's a welcome precaution, right?"

She didn't answer.

"Jay," she repeated.

He didn't answer either.

He pressed his forehead against hers and kissed her. She tasted like mint chutney, and smelled like it too, he thought as they shared a few deep breaths.

"Video time?" they asked in unison when she opened her eyes.

"Video time."

Jay pulled out his phone and set it up on Salustiana's desk. He started a recording and leaned back to sit near her.

"Dearest children," she began, "We still do not know your names, but they may be of the following: Salome, Anna, Catherine, Solar, Mini-Salustiana,"

"Jay Yem Jr., Jay Yem Jr. II," Jay continued, "Bucephalus."

"No!" Salustiana interrupted, laughing "Tell Kuretes - no, tell Karanmeet he's a boor and his bribe has failed."

She cleared her throat and feigned a low, mock serious voice, "This is mom here. Hey there, future children."

"And daddy Jay, hi kids."

"Oh, and let's not forget, Cell-Net AI Prototype 17," Salustiana flourished with a wave towards the terminal.

"Hello, Salustiana and Jay's children," the cell-net spoke, "It's nice to meet you. Conditionally retrospectively, of course, depending on when you watch this."

"Boy, that's a mouthful, 17," Jay quipped.

"Good thing I don't have a mouth."

"Not yet, you don't," he replied, "Now, onto our lecture. Have you a topic for today, Dr. Yem?"

"Yes," she nodded, "I hope this one doesn't sound too spiritual. I just wanted to share something I didn't realize until I was cooped up in a sick room. I'm gonna assume there's more than one of you, but if you're an only child like daddy and I, then just think about your friends for this one. Now, I don't think I ever gave much thought to celebrations until I stopped having them. Because, you know, hospital. But they were always like, things that happened regularly."

She continued, "I know I'd be a hypocrite if I said anything about valuing passing things and being mindful. Worked myself to hopefully not death and here I am still working. But there's just something so important about meeting up and resetting that button in your head that says 'Hey, neat, there are cool people who care about me and vice versa.' Not 100% sure where I'm going with this, but it's something about sticking together and celebrating. Celebrating everything, even the good and the bad."

"I miss it," she smiled, "Never thought I'd be longing for a party when I'm in a lab, but I've been in a lab for almost a year now and hell if I don't wish I wasn't wondering if I'd ever have another one again. Tongue twister, I know. If you're still five or something this might not be meaningful yet, but if you're eighteen - legal age for introspection - meet up with your fricking loved ones once in awhile. That is all, children."

Jay clapped a round of applause by himself.

She kissed him on the cheek. "You don't have to do that every time, you know."

"Oh, you know I do," he replied, turning his attention to the terminal, "Well 17, is there anything you'd like to add to season another brilliant soliloquy by the beautiful Dr. Salustiana Yem?"

She glowed again, washing out their faces, "Salustiana and Jay's children, whoever you are, I hope I meet you one day. And I hope my own children will be even a fraction as wonderful as you are."

"Cell-Net 17," Salustiana addressed, "You can't possibly know that. What if they grow up to horrible little gremlins or something?"

"Or worse, politicians!" Jay added.

"Impossible," Cell-Net 17 rebutted, "How could they be horrible with such smart, loving creators?"

Salustiana and Jay exchanged happy smirks. "So," Jay asked his wife, "Since we're talking names here, don't you think Cell-Net 17 should get one too?"

"Jay Yem," she reprimanded, "You can't put me on the spot like that! I want to sound perpetually prepared in front of the kids!"

"What?" he responded, "Love, this is an exercise in improvisation. What better way to show them how the world's greatest genius handles situations under pressure."

She looked around the room before settling her eyes on the IV hooked up to her arm. Saline.

"Celine. You are Celine."

"I love it," Celine beamed, her monitor switching to a visual of salt crystals dancing with drops of water.

"What's that, Celine?" Jay asked.

"This is my face."

"There you have it, kids," Jay closed, kissing Salustiana as he reached to save the recording, "The birth of Celine's face."

With the recording finished, he increased the frequency of his kisses without witness, except potentially Celine. When she moved to reciprocate, he was instead met with a hacking cough. He scrambled to find the towel and hand it to her in time. By the time she stopped, her eyes were wet and he wasn't sure if it was from the tears or otherwise.

"I need you to know this is real, Jay," she pleaded, "Be serious with me. Precautions, yes. They are there for a reason. I need to know you're ready for whatever happens to me. To us."

"I know, Sal. I'm not running away from anything. I didn't want to tell you this, but I started a fund a few weeks ago. For your physiotherapy, in case you ever walk again. And if not, well, it's more than enough to give you the send-off you deserve."

"I love you, Jay. Thank you. I'm glad you're with me. You remember what I asked for though, right? Nothing too fancy. I want a graceful return to entropy, not a monument to the futility of fighting it."

"I love you too," he responded, gripping her shoulder like he could hold her soul in place forever.

She looked down for a moment before filling her lungs and perking up again, "How much have you saved?"

"Well," he continued, "Let's just say if you survive, we can buy the kids a yacht. With Celine as its pilot. We'll live out over the seas forever."

"Jay Yem!" she scolded.

"I'm kidding. It's nothing big. Enough to put two of them to college. In Canada or one of the other Alliance nations with public ed. funds. Maybe just one of them, actually."

Salustiana opened her mouth to reply, but her coughs stung him more than any wit could have.