What's that old saying?
"Silence is deafening"
? I always thought it was just a poetic metaphor for social injustice or a clever way for a romantic partner to encourage a fight. But at that moment, I fully understood. My ears were ringing with everything and nothing while Lizzy stared into my eyes, my own looking straight through her at everything and nothing. I could feel the color drain from my face, smell the perspiration forming on the palms of my hands, and almost taste the remnants of stale air in my lungs from a time that no longer existed. My inner monologue was ball-gagged, a result of too many thoughts and implications colliding at once. All I could do was stare slack-jawed at nothing until Lizzy spoke again.
"I know this is a shock. Trust me," she said, leaning in closer to my face. "I dreamed of something like this, but everyone told me it was impossible." Her eyes dropped slightly, examining my nose, then my mouth. "They even threw me in jail for even suggesting this could happen.
Crimes of Misinformation and Malfeasance,
they said. But even then, I never stopped believing, hoping, praying." A delicate hand reached out, painted nails grazing the soft flesh of my cheek. "A man. A male. An extinct gender here in the thirty-third century. And out of all the places in the universe, you're here. With me. You returned... for me."
Her words finally cut through the fog in my brain like a lighthouse; a pink-topped, beautiful lighthouse.
I'm... the only male that exists? How is that even possible? If that were true, the human species would have gone extinct a thousand years ago.
I found the concentration to blink, my arid eyes grateful for the reprieve and causing Lizzy to withdraw her hand, the sudden lucidity briefly startling her.
"What you're saying is not possible," I said defiantly, shaking my head. "I need to speak with Dr. Ross, right now."
My body made an effort to stand up, but Lizzy's hands latched onto my thighs, forcing me back down to her bunk. "Please... please stay. I'll do anything. Just... don't go." In that moment, she was the most fragile and delicate I had seen her. Gone was the excitable young woman and in her stead was a girl begging me with pleading eyes. "Not yet. Please. Once everyone finds out..." She trails off, her eyes looking beside me at her bunk with a troubled expression. "I want to pretend that it's just you and me, at least for a little while. Can you do that?" She returned her gaze to mine, searching my face for any indication of an answer.
Despite myself, I found my head nodding in agreement.
I need answers. I need information. But this beautiful girl is not only allowing me to spend time with her, she's begging me. A long time ago - a VERY long time ago - I would have sacrificed a choice few body parts just to have this. And she's desperate. How much of an asshole would I have to be to break this poor girl's heart? Answers will still be there in an hour or a day.
"Okay. I'll stay."
Her entire body vibrated with excitement, hands clutched at her chest. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice wavering as she did so. Her eyes closed and opened in rapid succession, the time between them too long to be considered a blink. Each eye opening was precipitated by a subtle intake of air and increased pressure on my thigh from her fingers.
"What... what are you doing?" I inquired. I could smell something vaguely similar to bubble gum with every exhale, a heady undercurrent of grease punctuating the sweet scent.
She averted her eyes at my question, a shy smile forming on her lips. "I'm sorry. I must look like an idiot. I just keep thinking that all of this is a dream or a hallucination. Every time I blink or look away, I'm half-expecting you to disappear."
This is a first: I'm not the awkward opposite sex person for once. And the way she's looking at me, the nervousness; was this how girls viewed me whenever I would approach them? Was this how Jasmine saw me?
I tried my best to give a genuine smile, the muscles in my face protesting the movement after years of atrophy even before being frozen.
Go on, say something you idiot. She's vulnerable and unsure. Remember when you were like this and you would give anything for the other person to throw you a life preserver?
"Lizzy? I heard Dr. Ross call you Elizabeth back in the medical whatever-it-is. Is that your real name?"
Okay, it's not as reassuring as I would have hoped, but at least it will get us talking about something other than gender extinction.
Her eyes dart back to mine. "Elizabeth Chambers, but everyone just calls me 'Lizzy' unless I'm in trouble or bothering someone. Which happens from time to time..." As she spoke, her teeth bit into her bottom lip on the right side, clearly still nervous and unsure of how to interact with me. I reached for her hand, unclasping it from my thigh and taking it in my hand. My head motioned to a spot on the bunk next to me as I gently pat the unyielding mattress with my free hand.
"Well then, Lizzy, why don't you sit with me? It feels weird having you kneeling like I'm royalty or something."
Her eyes widened ever so slightly at my request and her hand gripped mine. She slowly rose from the floor and took a seat next to me, adjusting her distance several times as if internally judging an appropriate gap between our bodies. When she was finally settled, she was at least two feet away, my arm outstretched with her firm grip still on my hand. I raised a questioning eyebrow as I spoke. "You know, you can sit closer. I'm not contagious or anything."
Before my sentence even finished, Lizzy had scooted against me, her thighs jammed against mine. "S-Sorry. I didn't know how close I should be, how close girls are supposed to sit to boys. Is this right?" Her expression was one of genuine concern, as if she was petrified of doing the wrong thing in my presence. My heart lurched at the close contact, her face now so close that her sweet scent seemed to envelope me.
Holy shit, this is the closest I've ever been to a woman, besides my mom. And, unless this is some smutty online erotica, that doesn't count.
I swallowed the lump in my throat.
"Yeah, this is right," I said, nodding emphatically. "Well, it's a little close for people that aren't familiar. But it's fine! I... like you being this close." I had to quickly qualify my statement when she began to move away. "So, uh, you probably have a billion questions for me." I let the statement-implied-question linger in the air, waiting for any feedback other than awe or trepidation.
Lizzy let out a giggle-sigh. "More than you know," she responded, dreamily. "But there's one thing I've wanted to know since the moment I learned how to read." She lifted her eyes to meet mine, the wetness from her tears making them sparkle even in the harsh lighting of her quarters. "What's it like to kiss someone?"
My eyebrows arched in surprise at her direct question.
Out of everything that she could possibly want to know about the twenty-first century, playing tonsil hockey is the one thing more important above all else?
I clear my throat while regaining my composure. "What do you mean? No one kisses anymore?"
Lizzy shrugged, a forlorn wrinkle creasing her brow. "Some women do, but most don't see any reason anymore. Outside of a few communities, everyone just lives platonically. The only reason I know anything about it is from my books." She made a sweeping gesture to her treasures adorning her walls. Her eyes lit up with pride. "I have kissing books. LOTS of kissing books."
Yeah, she does. And she's talking to the one guy in history who has less experience in this area than anyone alive. The only man alive is also the most inexperienced one. Boy, does she have bad luck.
