The Lord of the Sands of Time by Jim Hubbert

feel actual jealousy. This astonished him, but it delighted him even more. He hadn’t expected to discover it this way, yet it confirmed his feelings for Sayaka. But this was no time for celebration; the officer had already wormed his way into the conversation and was casting frequent glances at her. The moment of truth would be along soon enough. No, there it was—the officer had requested the pleasure of her company, probably over at the long bar, and was already rising from his chair. Orville stood up.
    When he reached the table, everyone turned to look at him. Sayaka, hand in hand with the now standing officer, was rising from her chair. She had just drawn a wry laugh from him, probably thanks to some cutting remark of hers, but she didn’t seem to be refusing him either. When she saw Orville, her face froze along with her body, half out of the chair.
    One of the group motioned with his glass for Orville to join them. “Hey, Orville. Good timing. We’ve got a vacancy. Have a seat.”
    “Thanks, not right now. Sayaka, I need to talk to you,” said Orville.
    “Gosh, I’m sorry. I’m busy just now. Later, possibly—”
    “It won’t keep. It’s probably the same thing he wants to tell you.” Orville gulped and prepared to deliver his message, but Sayaka sensed what was coming and held up her hand.
    “Wait. All right, Orville. Let’s go over there. Next time, Yansen.”
    While the stymied officer struggled for something to say, Sayaka lowered her eyes, slipped past him, and went to the bar, Orville in tow. As soon as they sat down, she emptied her glass and stared straight ahead.
    “All right, you first. I might be making the wrong assumption.”
    “You probably aren’t. I want a relationship with you. As a man,” said Orville.
    “So I thought. Why the timing? Worried he’d beat you to the finish line?” she asked.
    “Partly that, but I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. And so have you.” Orville waited for her answer. He was not optimistic. If Sayaka were inclined to accept him, her slender eyebrows would not be almost touching now. Still, he couldn’t help but be struck by her profile in the dim light of the bar. She was beautiful. Tightly pulled back, her hairline curved across her forehead like a glowing copper comb. The gently sloping line of her bare shoulders, the angled wrist holding her glass—she was more than just lovely form. Sayaka was delight. No human artifice could replicate it. This manifestation of decades of movement, animated by the mysteries of thought and experience, was something only humans possessed.
    “You’ll go.” Her voice was a hoarse whisper. “You can’t stay with me. You’ll be deployed, that’s for sure. How can you talk like this?”
    “Is it wrong?”
    “It’s awful. Don’t you think?”
    “No, I don’t,” said Orville. “If it were, there’d be no point to love. This isn’t like you. Are you so afraid of the future?”
    “Of course I’m afraid!” She was staring at him now. Her amethyst eyes flashed with anger. “I’ve always tried to live with an eye on the future. How wonderful things will be when this war is over. Even with everything coming at us, military service and everything else, I thought things would just get better and better the more time passed. But if I fall in love with a Messenger, it’ll all be for nothing.”
    “Is that what’s been worrying you?” said Orville.
    “You knew?”
    “I know how to look. Maybe women have suffered the same kind of anxiety since the beginning. But if you care about me, try to understand how I feel. We Messengers don’t even have a future to dream about.”
    “Orville…” Sayaka’s eyes filled with tears. In a distant corner of his heart, Orville tasted bitterness. The logic of seduction that he was deploying to such effect was not his. It was the logic of the designers who made him. It was agonizing to realize he was simply fulfilling that design. But the desire he felt for