The park had become a dazzling kaleidoscope of colour – bright oranges, reds and yellows, interspersed with the usual greens and browns. Alice’s meadow was blanketed in small purple flowers, many of their long stems reaching up past her knees. Olivia felt a tickle in her nose, but fortunately she hadn’t had to blow her nose yet. She didn’t have a handkerchief or tissues or anything, all she had was her sleeve – which she would prefer not to use while Alice could see her. She wasn’t chat, she wouldn’t respond to Olivia’s unmuted sniffles with ‘wow, for free?’ Olivia looked over the park – the view was colourful, yet calm. When Alice had been busy, Olivia had realized just how much this view had become a part of her routine. “The burned area looks a lot better. There’s way more green, and there’s almost no black now. They must have been doing a lot of work over the last week.”

  Alice nodded from behind her canvas. She seemed to be nearly finished – Olivia felt like she was getting a better sense for when Alice was deeply concentrating and shouldn’t be disturbed, and when she was doing routine detail work and could put some mental energy towards conversation. “Androids are still brining in sod every day, and there were some people out planting trees just yesterday. It’ll still be a long time before the trees grow in enough to fill the gap, but it’s started healing.”

  Olivia nodded pensively. There were a few things she wanted to say, and both felt weird to bring up with no lead up. She gave herself five minutes to come up with something natural, then gave up and said, “Hey, I’m going to a university lecture next Tuesday, and it’s during the day, so if you’re not busy, I was wondering if you wanted to come along?”

  Alice quizzically stared at Olivia for a moment, then sighed lightly. “I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

  “Ah, okay, just thought I’d ask. It’s probably not going to be all that interesting anyway.”

  Alice returned to her painting, meticulously adding in a few details around the edge. It seemed like a gentle no was all she was going to say, before she suddenly offered up more context. “You learn to avoid crowds when your face is plastered on corporate safety programs with a caption underneath saying ‘Beware of the Priestess!’ – it’s awkward at best and at worst it can even be dangerous. There’s too many people out there looking for something, anything to worship, and worshippers make the worst kind of stalkers.”

  “I’m sure you don’t have anything to worry about stalkers. Just, you know, bweewm.” Olivia did her best mime of shooting out a laser beam from her palm.

  Alice’s long stare clued her in that she’d said something wrong. “Life’s not that convenient. I don’t control Eclipse, I’m just a conduit, a channel. If I open that channel, there’s no space left for me. He’s simply too large - I get pushed aside, swallowed up, overruled. When the channel’s open, when he’s manifest, there’s nothing of ‘me’ left, and when… if he leaves, there’s no guarantee I’ll still be there afterwards. Or…” Alice’s voice got quiet, “There’s no guarantee that there’ll be a world left for me to come back to.”

  Olivia imagined for a moment what living on that precipice must be like. She thought back to the sense-less void she’d fallen into, that still haunted the barriers between her sleep and waking hours. Was that what it was like, to be pushed out of your own body? Then what about Alice the night the devil appeared – when her anger released the Eclipse? Back then… Alice had no idea if the sun would return? If she would return? That was a horrible thing to have to live with, and Olivia had just made a dumb joke about it. “I’m sorry. I’m, um, kind of stupid, so I can be kind of thoughtless sometimes. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

  Olivia talked online all the time, and she thought she had a pretty good sense of what she could joke about, what to take seriously, and what topics to avoid entirely. Why was she only stupid when it actually mattered? Alice seemed to notice how wretched Olivia was feeling – she set down her paintbrush, walked over to Olivia, extended her arms, walked another step forward, then closed her arms behind Olivia’s back. It was a hug. An almost laughably awkward hug, but a hug none the less, and in the cool autumn air, it was warm. “Please don’t beat yourself up about it. If you had more common sense I don’t think we’d be friends.”

  The hug ended as suddenly as it started, and Olivia was left trying to blink away tears. Friends - there were far too many people on the net who dismissed it, called it cringe when characters talked about friendship as something wonderful and precious and the source of their power and determination. But friendship was wonderful, and it was precious, and it was absolutely worthy of giving one’s all to protect it. “H-hey. Would you… Sorry, I have to blow my nose,” she ended up using her sleeve after all, “Would you like to watch the first episode of the new Justice Detective season with me? When it comes out? We could do it at my apartment, or your apartment would be fine too.”

  Alice was still just a single step away, and she was smiling. “I would’ve thought you’d be watching it with your chat.”

  “Nah,” Olivia shook her head, “I tried that with season 4 and it was a mess. I was thinking so much about what I should say and when I could say it, I ended up barely paying attention to the story. For season 5 I watched it on my own first, then watched it with chat, and that works sooo much better. I can actually discuss episodes properly instead of just reacting as stuff happens with a ‘wow!’ or ‘that’s crazy!’.”

  “So you are smart about things sometimes. I’m joking. I wouldn’t have thought about that at all.”

  “I didn’t think much about it either, until I tried it and it didn’t work. A lot of live-streaming is just trying stuff and seeing what works and what doesn’t.”

  Alice chuckled, “Art is the same, really. You need to try out different techniques and styles to learn what works for you. Like there was one artist who swore by putting down your first layer of paint before doing any line art. I tried it out, and it just didn’t click for me.”

  Olivia nodded, “That sounds like it’s true for a lot of things. Maybe that’s just life in general.”

  If that was the case, she was glad she had tried making a friend. She looked out over the park, admiring the colours as the sun crept towards the horizon, bathing the scenery in an orange glow. She felt a sneeze coming on, and once again her sleeve was all she had available.

  **********

  Olivia had taken several university courses after high school in an attempt to build her credentials for a normal, credible job. However, each of these courses were stand-alone, certificate courses that taught certain skills but never built up to a degree or major field of study. Which was to say, while everything from the subway station to the uneven stone streets were familiar, they didn’t invoke the kind of nostalgia that would accompany those who spent years of their life among the quiet stone streets and venerable old buildings, who’d remember cramming for a test under that stairwell, or meeting with friends under that tree, or drinking far too much at that campus corner bar. It also meant that even after looking up Professor Niirisu’s open lecture hours, it still took Olivia the better part of an hour to find the building it was held in.

  Settling into one of the well-worn wooden chairs in the lecture hall, Olivia felt painfully out of place. It wasn’t her age – there were plenty of students pursuing masters or doctorate programs that would be her age or older. For once it wasn’t even her clothing – she’d dug out her one suit out of her closet for today. It was tighter in some places than she remembered (not in the way chat would like to imagine – she’d seen their fan art), awkwardly short in others (had she actually grown taller, or were the pant legs always that short and she’d never noticed?), and even she could recognize the material was unpleasantly cheap. Despite that, it at least didn’t leave her out of place among the students and other well-dressed visitors. What had Olivia feeling out of place was the buzzing energy of the place, lively enough to be near overwhelming. A cacophony of conversation fragments about research paper reviews, term assignments, test results, course grades, recent insightful lectures, and the best coffee on campus. Olivia’s memories of her own school days were far more subdued – students focused on their computer screens, and teachers droning on, quietly resigned to the fact most of their class wasn’t typing notes, but rather typing conversations with AI teaching assistants, at best asking them to rephrase and summarize the lecture, and more realistically just talking about anything but the class. And that was the in-person classes – the online classes were even more morose and disconnected.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  The chatter around the lecture hall was focused, stimulated – and above all, excited. Eager in a way that was entirely alien to Olivia’s own recollections of education. Was the university just like this? The university courses Olivia had taken certainly weren’t this energetic. Or was this the passion and interest an elite professor like Niirisu attracted? The buzzing communal energy of the place felt like an alien world – and it might as well have been compared to the life of a live-streamer. Then Olivia caught a glimpse of someone’s laptop screen, which was showing a silent clip of Limi playing something that looked like a horror game, and heard a snatch of debate about whether Limi or ChocoMint were cuter, and suddenly Olivia was worried the two worlds might not be that far apart after all. If she spoke here, would anyone in this mass recognize her voice? Would speaking here be nothing short of doxing herself to a live audience? From being quietly overwhelmed by the energized mass of humanity around her, Olivia felt her focus crashingly return to herself with a worried wave of sudden self-consciousness.

  The chatter fell away almost immediately when Professor Niirisu entered the room, and it was dead silent by the time he arrived at the podium. He was a clean-shaven, sharp-chinned, blonde-haired man of an inscrutable age – he could have been 30, or a healthy 60. Between his good looks, crystal clear and purposeful way of talking, and the evident respect he commanded whenever he entered a room, Olivia quietly wondered if the professor had a sizable fan club. Where impressionable young students would trade photos of him and post weird thirst trap video edits online, filled with people who would swoon when he told them their research paper had ‘solid scientific acumen’. Olivia probably watched too many high-school drama series – it didn’t help that a lot of magical girl series also borrowed the same tropes. Then the professor began his speech, and Olivia’s thoughts were immediately reigned in – his diction forcefully drawing in her focus and attention.

  “We think of science as a looking glass, like a microscope or a telescope, in that it is a tool to observe the greater universe around us. Science is, in truth, a mirror. Our minds are structures of atomic particles and electric impulses – so we build our model of the universe around particles and energy. Our primary perceptive organ is based on light, so we have learned a great deal from observing our universe based on its light. Technology advances in a way that follows and builds on this mirrored reality. Through technology, we can extend our vision to see past the visible spectrum and view light in the infrared and ultraviolet, but this is still observations built on light. Likewise forces we consider fundamental, like gravity, are discovered and measured by their effect on matter.

  “Gravity offers a good example of the limits of our mirror science. Our observations of gravity begin to break down at cosmic scales. To explain this discrepancy, we introduce the concept of dark matter – which in truth is neither dark nor is it even necessarily matter, it is merely unobserved reality. A shadow from behind our mirror. A hint that the universe we observe is not a full measure of all of reality. The end goal of science as a field is to understand reality as a whole, and to understand the rules that govern it. We have advanced far in our understanding of the universe visible in the mirror, so now our attention must turn to the greater reality beyond. We can not break our mirror without also breaking ourselves, so instead we must to learn by observing the shadows that press against it. Meticulously measuring them, cataloguing them, and comparing them. In so doing, we expand our view of the true reality.

  “And so we come to what I’m sure is the reason many of you have come to this lecture. In observing these shadows beyond the mirror, our greatest surprise was that some of these shadows began to observe us in turn. In our mirror universe it was shocking to discover there was no measure of life beyond our single, solitary planet – that from all we could perceive, the universe was a cold, sterile place in which we were alone as the only measurable intelligence. Equally shocking was the discovery that the universe teems with life beyond the mirror. Beyond our perception, consciousness, and even sentience, exist on a scale that can scarcely be imagined. Even now, after centuries of peering at the shadows, we are still regularly cataloguing new categories of minds. More exciting still, we are beginning to understand some of the principles these minds are built around, and discovering ways of interacting, even communicating with some of them.

  “However, while we learn to peer past the mirror into the shadows, the minds within the shadows learn we are not mere scenery – we discover and are discovered in turn. Which means we must learn to take our place among the wider universe, or accept our own doom. This is why the corporation places such a great importance on the immortality project. It is not only the attempt to shed death from the human experience, but it is also an attempt to secure humanity’s future. Humans are a race currently existing within our own mirror; we must change if we are to be able to stand among the shadows beyond. So if you are a student here, I encourage you to persist in your studies with a sense of purpose. No matter how trivial it may feel, everyone within the university is part of humanity’s greatest collective project. And if you are a visitor here, you are no less vital. New students may spark the next great discovery. The corporation plays a vital role as well, supporting the university and the many research institutes that push along knowledge in their own, specialized fields. You are all part of this project, because this project is the current frontier of all humanity.”

  Olivia was in awe – no wonder the class had been so energized before the lecture, and so rapturous when it began. As the professor’s speech ended and a question segment began, Olivia was able to again contemplate her own thoughts – and found herself wondering where exactly a live-streamer was meant to fall into ‘humanity’s grand project.’ In fact, the more she began to cast her mind over everything she considered important – magical girls shows, games, her friendship with Alice – the more she began to wonder if the professor had left a blind spot in his world view. It may be a trivial list to most people, mere amusements, and some might even cynically dismiss them as undesirable distractions, but it was the artistry, the human intent behind them. It was a form of communication that Olivia held as deeply important – worthy of devoting her life to. What would the professor think? What would he think of artistic pursuit in general? Olivia was overcome with an urge to ask, and began raising her hand, before remembering the reason she had come here in the first place was not to ask about art, but to ask about Atlanteans. And quite naturally, just as she gathered the resolve to raise her hand and ask her question, the question period was over, and the Professor was thanking the audience for attending.

  Olivia felt a surge of panic, before reminding herself she could always return another day. But still… she was here now. Maybe she could find him outside the lecture hall? She hastily stood up from the desk and made a beeline for the door. Fortunately, she was seated near the back of the room, and most attendees were back to talking excitedly amongst themselves, so the doors were still uncrowded. She looked around, and realized the stage would exit onto the floor below hers, so she raced for the stairs. She didn’t see anyone around, but this was the ground floor, so she aimed for the nearest door and looked out the campus outside. After a moment adjusting to the sudden light, she spotted a familiar suit topped with familiar blonde hair. She nearly ran after him, but reconsidered and pursued him at a speedy walk. He was walking with purpose, but not rushed, so she caught up to him quickly. “Ah! Um, excuse me Professor.”

  He stopped walking and turned. His eyebrow was raised – no doubt he was judging her voice. It was always people’s first impression of her, and she couldn’t help it, it was just her voice. “Sorry for interrupting, but would it be okay if I asked you a question? I didn’t get a chance in the lecture hall.”

  She caught his eyes flitting to the side – he was considering escape routes. “If you don’t mind asking it as we walk. I’m afraid I have an appointment coming up.”

  “Ah, s-sure,” he was already walking, “I heard you’re an expert on consciousnesses and stuff. Do you… hah… do you know much about Atlanteans?”

  Walking and talking was strangely exhausting. Not for the first time, Olivia reflected she wasn’t in great shape. “Atlanteans? Like from Plato? Or are you referring to video games?”

  Olivia was settling into Niirisu’s walking rhythm. “No. Nothing like that. I heard it from a Security guy… he said it was type blue, I think?”

  “Ah, I see. Forgive me, I misunderstood. What was it you wanted to know about them?”

  “I had one kind of, um, haunting me? And now I can’t find her. I wanted to meet her again, but I have no idea where to even start.”

  He stopped walking so abruptly Olivia nearly ran into him. He looked back at her, as if looking for any evidence she was making a joke. He turned back around and resumed walking, “You are a strange one. When did you notice the Atlantean?”

  “Around two or three months ago. It was in my room practicing talking about pizza.”

  “Haha, pizza was it? And what time did it stop manifesting?”

  “A few weeks ago. I think… there was someone she didn’t like me hanging out with.”

  “Hmm,” the professor was still walking steadily, “Do you think you are an interesting person?”

  The question momentarily stumped Olivia, “I’m… not sure? I mean, I’m a live-streamer, so I guess I’m kind of interesting, but I just eat and sleep and go to the store and do normal stuff mostly.”

  The professor again stopped walking, and turned to address Olivia directly. His voice sounded unexpectedly kind. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Atlanteans aren’t known for short-term attachments – much like humans with our pets, it tends to be a lifelong commitment. There’s a good chance it was observing you far before you noticed it, and it’s most likely finding ways of following you even now. Patience is all I can recommend if you want to see it again – it’s not wise to chase after shadows.”

  He smiled, then turned and resumed walking. He seemed surprised when she kept pace alongside him. There was one more thing she wanted to ask. “What’s your opinion on art?”