She laughed again.
‘So,’ she said, ‘it’s worth getting gull shit all over your hair for the sake of a cold beer?’
‘That depends on the beer,’ he smiled. ‘But you might just be so lucky, that it is.’
I wouldn’t know, Amaranthine thought all of a sudden. If I wished for a cold beer whilst doing a beach simulation with Eiko, I’d just order it. But then why would I want a cold beer when I’m experiencing the beach in room temperature?
She was silent for a while.
‘A penny for your thoughts,’ Daniel said.
She looked at him, hesitating. She’d been thinking about asking him why he remained mortal, but she didn’t want to cause awkward atmosphere. They had a two-hour flight ahead of them.
‘What is it?’ he asked.
‘Nothing,’ she still couldn’t make up her mind. But she really wanted to know his reasons. To understand.
‘You want to know why I remain mortal, don’t you.’
‘How did you know?’ she was embarrassed, as if caught naked. ‘I… I mean… you don’t have to answer that.’
‘I don’t mind,’ he said.
‘Ok, if you’re sure,’ she said. ‘I… presume you don’t have children.’
‘Nope.’
‘And you’re not religious. You don’t believe being immortal is against God’s will.’
‘Nope.’
‘So why not take the Cure until you decide to have kids? Why risk that… you know…’ she was still unsure how to form her questions so as not to insult him.
‘That I’ll get too old before I meet the right person to have the kids with?’
‘Yes,’ she was glad she didn’t have to say it. ‘I mean, even if you do eventually want to have them and be mortal, you could extend your life until that moment comes.’
‘In theory, yes,’ he said. ‘But I don’t believe in these sort of half-measures. You are who you are and you have to make up your mind once and for all.’
‘Why? Don’t you believe people can change?’
‘I do,’ he said. ‘But you have to be who you are at the given moment in time. You can’t be biologically immortal, but in the back of your head think of yourself as a Mortal. How could you have any integrity if you did that?’
Amari considered his words. He was right – how could he function amongst Immortals, with their values of individuality, casual relationships and freedom from family responsibilities, if all the while he longed for something completely opposite? And how could he do it while his family remained mortal and aged at a stable pace?
‘I’m beginning to understand,’ she said. ‘But aren’t you ever worried that you may never find that person you want to have kids with? What then?’
‘Tough luck,’ he said, ‘nobody promised all of us that we’d live happily ever after. I guess I just believe in fate. Phit’s fir ye, ah’ll no pass ye beh, as my grandmother always says.
‘What does that mean?’
‘What’s for you, will not pass you by,’ he explained. ‘But I also think the more we give out, the more comes back to us. Effort yields rewards. Good karma returns to us. A sacrifice in one area of life can result in something extraordinary happening in the other, often something we wouldn’t expect in our wildest dreams. That’s what I would call faith.’
‘But you don’t believe in God?’
‘No, I don’t. I believe in Nature’s cycles, an unending flow of energy that constantly transforms things, people, plants and animals into different, fascinating forms. But I don’t believe in any figure that would control it all, or interfere with our lives, in a good or a bad way.’
‘So what about afterlife?’
‘I have no idea. I think it’s wiser to enjoy the present day than worry about the future.’
‘But you must have had some thoughts about what happens to you after death.’
‘I suppose. But it’s not a set system of beliefs. Maybe the energy from my body will be used by an oak seed, and I’ll end up being a tree for a few hundred years. Then someone will chop me down and burn me and the ash will serve as fertilizer for some crops that will then get eaten by animals, then by people and I’ll return to human shape. Or maybe I won’t. Who knows?’
‘So you don’t fear death, even though you don’t know what’s going to happen to you?’
‘Not yet,’ he smiled. ‘It’s human nature to be in denial of death until it draws near, isn’t it? Otherwise we’d all go crazy.’
Amaranthine fell silent. Friday night’s events came back to her for a moment with frightening vividness. Fear, hopelessness and despair overwhelmed her all of a sudden.
‘Are you ok?’ Daniel asked with concern.
‘Yeah,’ she forced a smile. ‘I just had a flashback of Friday night… I was so scared, and I was sure I was going to die in there.’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you…’
‘No, it’s not you,’ she said quickly. ‘You’re right. We do live in denial of death, us Immortals more than anybody. The Cure made us pretty arrogant about these things, I guess. But we forget that we aren’t really immortal, we just don’t age. We can still die in accidents, and we are so unprepared for that. When I sat there, by the fire exit, before you came for me, I kept thinking what if there is something on the other side, but only if you imagine it while you are alive? What if the whole idea of believing in heaven is to give your consciousness something to do after your body dies? And if you share the same vision with others, maybe it does come true for you together?’
‘Do you have such a vision?’
‘No, I don’t,’ she said. ‘And I think that was partly why I was so scared. I was facing this cold emptiness, a black hole. At that moment I wished I’d had a vision of afterlife.’
‘Wow, I never thought about it this way,’ Daniel said slowly. ‘But then I’ve never had a near-death experience.’
‘What do you mean?’ she couldn’t believe him. ‘How was Friday night not a near-death experience for you? You could have died a dozen times over!’
‘That was different,’ he said too quickly, and then, before he could stop himself, he blurted out, ‘I wasn’t thinking about me then.’
Tokyo was exactly what Amaranthine needed.
The news of the April 23rd attack was being analyzed here probably no less than in America, but it was all in Japanese. She could, of course, activate the translation feature on her idatron, which would switch all visual and audio signals to English before they would reach her eyes or ears, giving this Asian city a more or less American look and sound. She could, if she wanted to. But she didn’t want to hear any more about it.
She needed a break from the constant stream of new details, interviews with witnesses and the families of the victims. There was absolutely nothing else on any of the networks, constantly reminding her of her Friday night ordeal. Immortals, as in every rare case involving fatalities, horrified and fascinated at the same time, demanded more and more coverage and further details regarding the horrific night. The media met that demand, constantly bombarding the public with footage, comments, simulations and speculations. It was impossible to hide from it all. But when it was delivered in a language she didn’t understand, it was easier to ignore it, to distance herself from it and get distracted by the new place.
She had visited Tokyo through one of Eiko’s simulations before and she didn’t expect it to be much different from what she remembered. After all, Eiko’s software was state of the art. And she would probably be familiar with the area if their hotel was in one of the famous spots in the city center. But it wasn’t. Daniel and his team had chosen a small boutique hotel on the border between the Mortal and the Immortal districts.
‘This way it’s easier to keep the band’s whereabouts secret,’ he explained. ‘Immortals expect the stars of that caliber to stay in a hotel with no less than six stars, and those only exist within the Immortal districts. Mortals, of course, are convinced that we are staying in the Mortal qu
arters. No one is looking in between. It’s our little trick.’
‘Very clever.’
So now she was surrounded by a completely unfamiliar cityscape, which kept her senses busy and tired her physically and mentally; so much so that when she got into her room and lay down on the bed to relax, she immediately fell asleep.
She woke up a couple of hours later, refreshed. Friday’s terrorist attack seemed to have happened weeks ago, as if her nap was some sort of time-jumping trance.
The hotel may have been only five stars, but it was, like almost all buildings in Japan’s capital by now, a hovering one. The Japanese were the first to start applying hovering technology to buildings; they had finally found the perfect solution to their earthquake problem. Starting with the biggest cities, they gradually raised all the buildings off the ground, gaining more expertise in the industry than anyone else on the planet. The architect who designed The Universe, ‘the first hovering nightclub on Earth’, and the majority of the engineers, were Japanese.
Amaranthine took a long bath, thinking of nothing else than the fact that she was away from New York, her devastated office and the nightmare she went through on the other side of the world. It felt like vacation, not work; Carpe Diem’s concerts were not until Friday and Saturday, the media were far too busy grilling the topic of the April 23rd attack, and it was a gorgeous Sunday afternoon, which she was going to spend with Daniel.
He told her a lot about Japan on the way over and said there were a few nice things he wanted to show her, but it would be a surprise.
Daniel’s ready when you are, resounded in her head as she was drying her hair.
Great, she sent the reply to her idatron via a mental signal, please let him know I’ll be ready in less than twenty minutes.
And he says to wear comfortable shoes.
Oh, she blinked with surprise. Ok.
When she got down to the lobby, he was waiting for her at the bar. He looked great in a casual shirt, unbuttoned at the top, and black jeans. His hair was disheveled, as usual.
‘Fancy a drink before we head out?’ he greeted her.
‘Sure, why not?’ she smiled back and sat next to him on a high stool.
‘A mojito?’
‘Do you think they can make it the way Steel Magnolias do?’ she asked.
‘They most certainly can,’ he said, signaling the order to the barman, ‘since we’ve stayed here for a few days already, I had them trained on the secret recipe.’
‘You revealed the secret mojito recipe to the staff here?’ she was surprised. ‘Steel Magnolias wouldn’t like it if they knew.’
‘Well, about that –’
‘My lips are sealed,’ she said, ‘don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.’
‘I appreciate your discretion, but it won’t be necessary,’ he said.
‘How do you mean?’
‘Well, it’s not so much me using Steel Magnolias’ recipe as Steel Magnolias using mine.’
‘You came up with that recipe? The secret ingredient, that was your idea?’
‘Yeah, I made it up when I worked there,’ he explained.
‘And you kept yourself busy by enhancing traditional cocktails with mysterious additives that no doubt had your customers coming back for more,’ she guessed, ‘why didn’t you tell me earlier?’
‘I’m a very humble guy,’ he said with a playful smile. ‘I take after my father.’
‘Is that so.’
‘It is. But I didn’t want you to think that I go around the world betraying somebody’s trade secrets by training local staff. Or instructing my friends’ mind-reading computers.’
‘You programmed Eiko to make your mojito in my house?’
‘Yes, I did.’
‘Thank you.’
‘It’s my pleasure.’
Their drinks arrived and they looked just like the ones she had at Steel Magnolias. The pink leaves she still couldn’t identify, gave the mojito the same rosy tint and that elusive floral scent.
‘What should we toast to?’ Daniel raised his glass.
‘Having business partners who save your life in the event of a massive terrorist attack.’
‘Cheers, then.’
‘Cheers.’
The mojito tasted amazing.
‘So,’ she said, ‘you intrigued me with the comfortable shoes request. What’s that about?’
‘You’ll see,’ he replied, and reached down under his stool, from where he fished out a backpack, clearly stuffed to the brim.
‘Ok, Mr. Mystery,’ she gave up. He clearly had a plan for the evening, and she was excited for every minute of it.
When they left the hotel, his hovermobile was not waiting outside. Amaranthine looked at Daniel, but didn’t say anything. It must have been a part of his plan.
They waited for a couple of minutes. The air was fresh and clear, and the sun was still high but it was slowly making its way towards the horizon.
The hotel’s connector cabin hovered towards them from below and brought them all the way down to the ground.
‘We are going to walk to dinner,’ Daniel explained as they got out, ‘don’t worry, it’s not too far.’
It was a very strange sensation, walking right beside him along the wide paved path, with massive buildings high up above their heads. Fields, meadows and parks stretched on the ground as far as they could see. Amaranthine had never experienced anything like it.
There were lots of other people walking in both directions, slowly, leisurely. Others jogged along, or rode bicycles, which Amaranthine found bizarre; she didn’t realize people still exercised outdoors in this day and age. There were couples holding hands and families with children, mostly very young ones. She gathered they were walking into the Mortal part of the city.
She wondered where he was taking her, but she didn’t ask. Having someone else plan an evening and entertain her was nice so she decided to enjoy it as it unfolded. They kept walking, leaving the hovering buildings behind, and they could see the sky now. It was perfectly blue. Rows of trees covered in white and pink blossom grew on both sides of the path.
‘Cherry blossom,’ Amaranthine inhaled with delight. ‘I’ve seen it so many times on Eiko’s simulations, but they are definitely much more beautiful in reality. And they smell amazing.’
‘I thought you might like them,’ Daniel said. ‘It’s still one of the most popular pastimes here in spring. Just strolling along and watching the trees bloom. One of the simplest, yet one of the most enjoyable little things in life.’
Amaranthine just smiled in response. He was right.
They walked in silence for another quarter of an hour or so, each absorbing the view and the atmosphere.
The path led up a mild hill, covered by a big park. It must have been quite old, judging by the size of the trees. Around the massive trunks, in the shade of the long branches growing at ninety degree angles, there were grassy areas where people sat, right on the ground, with their blankets and baskets of food. The park was crisscrossed with narrow paths, cherry trees blooming on both sides of them. The paths looked like long, white tunnels and smelled so sweet that Amari would swear the little white flowers covering each branch were made of candy floss.
They reached the top of the hill and made a left into a very narrow path that seemed to lead into the thick of the park. It was a little darker here, although long rays of the sun came slanting through the canopy, lilluminating the area with beams of light and casting long shadows at the same time.
When they reached an opening, the view stretching out ahead had Amaranthine sigh in awe.
The sun was just a few inches above the clear line of the horizon. The big, golden ball hung there, as if waiting for them to come and admire it. There was no one else around.
‘They call Japan the country of the rising sun,’ Daniel said, ‘but you’ll see the sunset first. I hope you’ve worked up an appetite.’
He opened his backpack and took out a big blanket that he s
tretched on the soft grass. Next came boxes of food, a bottle of wine and glasses.
‘This may seem like an awful cliché to you,’ he smiled, ‘but for a simple guy like me, there’s nothing like watching a nice sunset whilst eating good food and drinking good wine.’
‘It’s absolutely beautiful here,’ she said, sitting down. ‘How did you discover this spot?’
‘I spent one of my college summers here,’ he said. ‘It was a long time ago, but not much has changed here since.’
Daniel opened the boxes he had brought and the smell of fresh sushi immediately made her mouth water. He handed her a pair of chopsticks.
‘Bon appetite.’
Amaranthine ate, drank the wine and watched the golden ball of the sun turn orange, and then red, tinting the surrounding sky, and slowly lowering itself behind the horizon. There was something amazingly peaceful in the whole experience. The time seemed to run slower, every minute and every second filled with pure pleasure.
She knew, though, that it wasn’t just the beauty of the surroundings, the taste of the food and the intoxicating effect of the wine and the blooming trees. It was the company of the man who not only saved her life, but was now showing her how to appreciate it.
They walked back to the hotel as slowly as it was physically possible, but the moment when they had to say goodnight and go to their own rooms still came far too soon. They had a meeting with the team first thing in the morning, then they would spend time with the band members, gathering information for their new marketing strategy. Amaranthine knew she had to be as professional as usual and focus on the job, but she refused to think about it tonight. All she wanted was for this night to last as long as possible, and she was getting a notion Daniel wasn’t in the rush to retire to bed either.
They decided to have one last drink at the bar.
‘So how did you actually get into PR and advertising?’ she asked three mojitos later.
‘It actually all started at Steel Magnolias,’ he said, ‘after a couple of years behind the bar I was made the manager and I wanted to bring more customers in. I started experimenting with promotional offers, having various bands play live music, and advertising through different media.’
‘Is that how you met Gary?’
‘No, we met a few years earlier. We were in a band together in high school.’
‘You were in a band? What did you play?’