Uranus Is a Lonely Place

"Make me come," she hissed. He flicked his eyes, and she moaned, shuddering against him in that familiar way. And he found himself stroking along her back, because there was something weirdly vulnerable about her right now. She didn't make the slightest fucking sense.

"OK?" Alvar asked eventually. "We have a deal?"

There was a long silence, and then Calliope hopped off him, flicking semen off her abdomen, the globs disappearing slowly on their long arcs.

"Be seeing you," she said with a lopsided smile.

He half expected her to vanish on her own, but she did something almost as unexpected, expression going completely blank. Like she'd turned off her own program.

"Huh," he said, staring at Calliope's still body. A shell of a shell. He shook his head and dismissed her, then put himself the fuck to sleep.

* * *

Riding his back, halfway through her own orgasm, Xyxxta started singing a shitty pop song. Horribly off-key. She squeezed his cock to the beat as he leapt.

"Jesus, Calliope, I get it. You don't have to abuse Xyxx. What do you need this time?"

"You've got a lot of time, don't you?" Calliope said in Xyxxta's voice. He sighed, dismissing Xyxxta and summoning Calliope. The other woman jumped on his back just like Xyxxta, and Alvar shook his head. "Yeah, OK. You know I'm not going to fuck you, not while I run."

His dick throbbed painfully, though. He wanted her, badly. How the fuck had he gotten himself turned around like this?

"Mm," she said. "Tell you what, I'll let you fuck me just the way you like, and stop interrupting you for a while. But you've got to catch me."

He sighed. She'd done this several times, little games of catch, or hide-and-seek. It was often pretty dull compared to when he did it with Jamila, who could lead a hell of a chase. But sometimes Calliope came up with a weird twist. That time she'd disappeared, and it turned out she was wedged into a crevice—that had been some ridiculous sex, lying across the gap, thrusting as if he was fucking the scarp itself. And then there was other time, when she'd found a small cave, one he intended to go back to when he had time. She had a thing for underground places, apparently.

"Go for it, then," he said. Calliope immediately disappeared.

He planted, leaped, and then squinted. Sometimes this was most of the game, the finding. At the apex, he saw her, and started laughing. She was waving her arms on the other side of the crater to his left, a good half kilometer distant. He started around the crater, picking his spots carefully among the shattered rocks near the rim. But she was cheating, flying through the air to exactly match his speed. He slowed, until he was hopping in place. At the top of each hop, there she was, hopping exactly to match him. She gestured wildly, the gist obvious enough: come straight at me.

He eyed the crater. It would take a couple hops, and they couldn't be long hops, because it was deep enough that the drop could injure him. Carefully he picked a path, and took the first hop.

"Way too slow," came her voice in his ear. "One leap, Al. I bet you can do it."

He bounced to a halt. "I'm not magic, and there aren't rocket boosters in this thing. That's twice as far as I've ever jumped on the smoothest plain out here."

"Giving up so easy? I promise I'll make it worth it. I bet you can do it. You're just scared."

"Damn right," he said. "C'mon, let's go find a spot here in the crater. I see some that look nice."

She started singing that godawful song in his ears, and he considered dismissing her to put them both out of his misery. But then she'd just start up again with whatever shell he chose next.

"Dammit, Calliope, would you knock it off? I mean, you win, and I want to fuck you more than anything right about now, but you know me. I'm good at this, and I know when something's too dangerous. Actually, I don't think it's even possible. No air resistance, but I've got to get up enough speed. Pretty sure the speed I'd need for that is beyond my ability to catch the ground and kick. Faster than my fastest leg speed, even with suit assist."

She just sang louder, and he frowned. Did Calliope know something he didn't? Not likely. She'd tried to get him to come down that crevice after her, and he just didn't fit. But then he'd been the one to suggest the compromise, and it'd been a lot of stupid fun in the end. She was probably looking for something like that, just provoking him until he thought of something new. That's what she liked, more than anything.

He shook his head, more and more convinced it was impossible. Leg speed, that was definitely the issue. Especially with a little suit assist, you never got close to that limitation on higher gravity moons, because even he wouldn't be foolish enough to approach the limiting speed there. It was a shame, because even at high speeds on Titania, he still had muscle strength to spare, if only—

The idea came to him all of a sudden, and he laughed out loud. Calliope shut up for a minute.

"Figure something out?"

"No," he said. "It's the stupidest goddamn idea ever. I'm trying to forget I ever thought it."

"Sounds perfect!" Calliope popped next to him, rubbing her ass against his cock for a half second, and then disappeared again.

It was utterly idiotic, and if anyone could pull it off, he could.

He might be an idiot, but he still practiced first alongside the crater. Calliope told him he was very clever after the first try, and then she sang loudly in his ear the next ten times. But he needed to survive this if he was going to keep doing gloriously stupid things next week, or next month. Next year.

He retrieved the boulder and bounced out to the real starting position. The leaps felt almost natural now, though the boulder weighed as much as he did, suit included. At a twenty-fifth g, with the muscles he had, it was no strain. Most of his motion was freefall, where the boulder didn't matter at all.

The only difference was where the action always was, on the landing. He couldn't plant and push off as quickly with the extra mass, but it was almost identical to the feeling of heavier gravity, and he knew how to adapt. In this case the slower turnaround was exactly what he needed.

"Can I ride?" Calliope got on his back without waiting for the answer.

"Kind of defeats the purpose of jumping over to you, doesn't it?"

"I'll be silent," she said, wheedling. "No distractions. I know this is tricky and I won't do anything dumb. I won't move. I just want to see what it's like."

He smiled, stroking the leg that floated near his thigh. Somehow he knew he could trust her in this.

"Hang on, then," he said, and took his first modest leap.

He held the boulder in one arm, high on his chest, and he had to use the suit to see through it, but that was ordinary enough. He'd plotted every step in his head, and so far he was hitting them close enough. Faster, faster, his acceleration a little under half the usual, but to do this ludicrous stunt, he didn't need to get any faster than his ordinary maximum speed. That was the trick.

The last two steps were the crucial, dangerous ones, in the ejecta rubble. Impact, bend, spring. The boulder didn't shift, and now the rim of the canyon approached with terrifying, exhilarating speed. One more step. He was going too fast. For a moment he thought he'd fucked it, that he'd miss the lip, but then there was no time to think. Barely a half meter from the edge, he planted both feet and pushed hard.

His wild launch left him rotating slightly. But now he raised the boulder towards zenith, his feet stretching for the floor a hundred meters below, and he knew the spin wouldn't matter. This was still the easy part, after all.

Alvar reached the peak, as high as he'd ever soared, the view curving across the fractured plain, all the way to the edge of Messina. Then he began to fall, and despite Calliope's promise he felt her hug tighter, gasping softly. It was terrifying, even though he'd known it was coming. Everything screamed at him that he was plummeting to his death, but he had to time this just right.

The moment arrived, a bit past halfway across, and he moved. Hard as he could, he yanked down on the boulder, just like moving a mass in zero-g. Down, down, as close to his body as he could, but already he was spinning forward and up, the boulder pushing him just as hard, until he was shoving off of it in a final handspring. The horizon spun dizzily, Uranus flying around like a mad marble, but he was pretty sure he'd done it.

The boulder plummeted down, a dwindling dot below him, and he rose, a second glorious leap stolen from air itself. He stretched out, slowing his spin as best he could, feeling the press of Calliope against his back. One flip, another, and he knew it'd be tricky, but there was nothing to do now but watch and choose his spot. Coming far too fast, maybe that—

He saw his chance, and he slammed both feet forward, desperately trying to hit the rubble. The smash jarred his entire body, but the debris shifted, just as he'd hoped it would, and it ate far more of his momentum than he'd had the right to expect. On the next landing, he slowed himself with another wild kick, but now he was spinning wildly, his luck finally running out. He curled up, protecting his hands and faceplate, stiffening the suit, and then he landed hard on his side, bouncing and skidding to a halt in a massive plume of ice crystals and dust.

No warnings: the suit hadn't even gone into emergency mode. And suddenly there was Calliope, laughing ecstatically, kissing him, rubbing herself against him before he'd even made it past the shock.

"This!" she shouted, crying. "Goddamn, it's almost like living."

* * *

He finished the day a solid ninety minutes late, and then he just sat against the drill housing, gazing at the thick crescent of the gas planet, looking for the few stars bright enough to see in the black sky of day. The other big moons were there, of course, a widely spaced row of tiny crescents lit exactly like Uranus. Like they were trying to impress their father. The gas giant had faint rings as well, but you couldn't see them edge on.

An hour left on the clock, and he didn't even care. He was as happy as he could remember, and finally ready to talk to Ysabel.

She appeared, and smiled almost immediately. His mood must have been obvious.

"Good day, I guess?"

"Can't fool you," he agreed. "And I suppose your rule holds. I've got an hour left."

Her chair sat perfectly on the plain, as though it'd always been there. She'd never even gotten up, in all the times he'd talked to her. But he hadn't asked her to, either.

"Could you sit next to me?" he asked. "I mean, just sit. I'm so peaceful right now."

Ysabel smiled and stood up, moving like someone in Martian gravity. He wouldn't hold that against her. She settled against the wall, not quite touching him.

"Have you thought about what I said last time?"

"Of course," he said. "And it's all right. I'm not crazy, Ysabel. And neither is Calliope. She's bizarre, but I think I get her, now. She's exactly what she said she was. Someone to make my life more interesting. Ysabel, I can think about the future now. I didn't even realize I'd been missing that. I see why you were so worried about me."

Ysabel nodded and waited, and he started to tell her. A lot more than he expected, though of course he skipped some. She smiled with him as he described his impossible, stunning feat that afternoon. The longest jump in Titanian history.

"I'd love to see that," Ysabel said, and he nodded eagerly, showing her the video. It was still astonishing to watch. Terrifying. It'd been foolhardy, obviously, but he'd done it. Ysabel seemed just as interested in Calliope, smiling as she watched the shell's exuberant reaction. He cut the video hastily, before the serious sex started up.

"Alvar, I think it's time you showed me the video of my missing time."

"I don't really think—"

"Alvar, please. This is important to me."

He blinked. She'd never made that sort of personal request to him before. Could she secretly be fretting about what Calliope had done with her shell?

"It's really not that terrible, I guess," he said reluctantly. "I just wish you didn't have to see it."

He found the video, playing it. Ysabel's expression didn't change.

"Alvar, I know how important Calliope is to you, and I want to understand her better. I don't dislike her, and I'm not jealous of her. I know there are other videos you don't want me to see, maybe one especially. It's all right. I just want to see that one video, the thing you most don't want to think about. Calliope is what she is, and I'm what I am. A video won't change either."

He knew the one she would want, but he'd worked so hard not to think about the last time with Jamila. He hadn't called up that shell since.

Finally he nodded, selecting the video and closing his eyes.

When it was over, he spoke quickly. "Calliope can be—I don't know. Yes, I guess she frightens me sometimes, but maybe I need that. Maybe that's what pushed me out of being stuck."

Ysabel nodded, sighing. "Alvar, I need you to think very hard now. Can you ever remember another person here? Even vaguely, like a dream? Think back to your first days, maybe even before you met me. On the ship, when you came. Were you always alone here?"

He frowned. He might be fucked up in some ways, but his memory wasn't fuzzy. He remembered all sorts of shit he'd rather not. "I'm positive," he said. "What is it you're trying to get at? I can describe everything about that horribly dull trip over, until the last week when I first got to try on the suit. That whole period, right through landing and everything. Maybe I was high on those chemicals from the start, but they don't fuck with my memory, and we can go dig up videos. The videos have always matched what I told you, haven't they?"

"Yes," she agreed sadly. "Alvar, Calliope is not a shell, or if she is, she's so far from my understanding that I can't give you any advice about her at all. But I do know you reasonably well, and I know your capabilities. Do you know what I saw when I watched the video of that jump? I saw a frustrated, brilliant man. Creative, foolhardy, and utterly stifled by a meaningless job and the fetters forged by circumstance and his own mind. When I watch Calliope, what do you think I see?"

He shook his head. He had an idea what was coming, but it wasn't true.

"I see your own hopes, dreams, fears, and fantasies. You fear disrupting the relationship you have with my shell, and Calliope shows you that fear. You're terrified that you'll run out of novelty in your life, and Calliope forces you to confront that fear, and yes, maybe find some dangerous ways to move past it. You crave and fear true intimacy, with another human, and she shows you that pain. I look at Calliope, and I see someone you could have created. Not a shell, exactly. Probably an existing shell, with your own additions. It would explain the sudden personality changes from her. Even when she interrupts other shells, there is a profound lack of the consistency I would expect from a shell. But multiple fragments, essentially partial shells, sometimes augmented with your own voice in real time? This is conceivable. You can probably already see how it could work, technically, can't you? You are the one with the access to all of it."

It did make a horrible sense. He would be capable of doing all of that, with enough effort. If he could hide it from himself. Partial shell training, subvocal speech, like an old ventriloquist trick. It wouldn't require any heroic hacking skills, just a person who was a lot closer to cracking up than Alvar thought he was. Could Alvar do everything he seemed to do each day, remembering a perfectly consistent story even as he fucked—himself? It was creepy even to think about.

"Ysabel—could you humor me? Suppose that isn't the explanation. Suppose Calliope really is a weird, brilliant, maybe kind of broken shell. What would that mean? Is it even slightly possible?"

Ysabel nodded. "As I said, her behavior is well beyond my ability to explain from a shell. If that's what she is, and she already has the kind of access to your equipment that she does, I think you would be in terrible danger. Whatever benefits she does seem to be providing you, she is encouraging what I hope you begin to see is a class of manic risk-taking behavior. But I think now you understand why I strongly prefer the first explanation, no matter how painful it is."

* * *

He hadn't cracked apart. The next morning, he was still Alvar, the same walking ball of hormones stuffed into a sad human. Ysabel said she truly wasn't qualified to help him with a serious mental problem, that he should talk to someone professional, but he knew he wasn't going to. So he spent the morning off the chemicals, miserable, trying to find loopholes. There really weren't any, though. Ysabel was far too logical, more logical than he was.

Calliope might not be a real shell, but she seemed to be bound by the same rules. She never appeared except as a shell, never showed any evidence in other systems. Ysabel said it was because he believed she was a shell, and her not-a-professional advice was to keep interacting with Calliope that way, because he clearly needed to see these parts of himself. He just needed to avoid acting on her more dangerous suggestions, which seemed within his power. He wasn't sorry to have the memory of the crater jump, but it was looking like a stupider decision all the time. A manic episode, she'd called it, and it didn't take much research to see how well a lot of his stupidest life decisions could be explained by a few related conditions. He'd been willfully ignorant, not to know that after all these years. There were even pills for the conditions, though they mostly didn't mix with the chemicals he needed.

Anyway, even if he somehow quit the chemicals and figured out the right pills, that wouldn't make him a normal person. He'd still be the guy who'd rather be by himself with his fantasies than spend time with other human beings. The guy without any life goals except the next orgasm. God, it was depressing to be off the chemicals.

Still, he'd gotten some thinking done as he ran, and there were facts that didn't mesh well with Ysabel's explanation. He'd gone to download a separate, fresh copy of Calliope, something he should have tried a long time ago, whatever his personal qualms about multiple copies. But there was no Calliope. Where the fuck had she come from, if not the usual shell feeds? Well, it pointed all the more obviously to himself. But whatever mess Calliope was, the sum of her seemed at least as complicated as a heavily trained shell. Alvar was nearly sure he couldn't train a shell like that, given his mediocre efforts in the past. Even the top experts took months or years for their sophisticated shells, working full-time, but he couldn't find any video evidence of himself doing that work.

Frankly he couldn't find any suit video at all to corroborate Ysabel's theory, and it was hard to believe his alter ego was so clever that it was also avoiding all possible recording of its activities. That would make it smarter than he was, for sure. But then again, maybe the evidence was in plain sight, and he was looking right past it. He was obviously capable of that sort of willful ignorance.

There was nowhere to go but forward, he supposed. He ground his teeth, resisted the pull of the chemicals, and called up Calliope.

"Hey, boss," she said. "Told you I wouldn't bother you for a while, but I won't say no if you come knocking. That was brilliant, yesterday."

He watched her, but she didn't seem particularly suspicious of him, or nervous. She seemed right back to ordinary Calliope.