Sublimation(95)

“Sure,” you say.

You would be different. You would have made different choices. You had never known you would want to change until you did.



* * *



You had imagined what would have happened if you hadn’t instanced, when you were in college. If you had finished your semester abroad and gone home. You wouldn’t be living Yujin’s life, you don’t think. You had been more ambitious than he was. You wouldn’t have met and had your heart broken by Petra. You wouldn’t have reconnected with Soyoung. You would have probably gotten a different job. You’d probably still be living at home. You wouldn’t have been consciously thinking about immigrating anywhere. You might have traveled more—you might have had more money for travel, and you wouldn’t have the niggling fear in the back of your mind every time you got on a plane. You would have seen your parents more. You wouldn’t have lost touch with your high school friends. You might be less lonely. Or not: Maybe everything about you was agnostic to where you lived.



* * *



“What do you think?” he says. “You disagree?”

This is a question that functions as a trap.

You imagine pushing back. You imagine telling Drew that you do disagree. Not that you do. You do and you don’t. You think the future he’s describing is an inevitability. What does it matter that it comes in one year or five? But you’re tired of being jerked around.

“Why are you so scared of instancing? The planes, the travel, the—all of it. Why that?”

He frowns.

“I’ll answer your question in a second. I’ve just always been curious,” you say.

Drew looks away from you. At the horizon. The direction he’s looking in is a straight shot down a Manhattan street. On the solstice, the sun lines up perfectly down the cavern. You’ve never seen it, even though you’ve lived in New York for a long time. You always seem to miss the exact date.

“I’ve always thought of having instances as—that’s your life they’re stealing, you know? You hear a lot of horror stories in the instancing industry—you know. I know you’ve got one you like, but not everyone has a good time. I’ve been traveling a long time. Never really felt attached anywhere—like, a hotel in Amsterdam’s the same thing as a hotel in San Antonio, right? I’m concerned that if I get attached, I’ll end up instancing when I leave. But hey—I’m lucky enough that the flying makes sense for my job. Back on topic though. What are your thoughts on all of this?”

“I think that you’re very lucky to be able to travel like that,” you say.

“C’mon, man,” he says. “Look, aren’t you trying to get dual citizenship out of this? That’s the same thing. You just aren’t thinking big enough.”

“Drew. It’s obvious that you promoted me because I need this job for my visa, so you could control me by leveraging the speed at which my application for citizenship is processed.”

He’s silent for a moment.

“Well, you don’t have to say it like that.”



* * *



In many ways, the serpent is the model for rebellion. His fall from grace is the precursor to the actions that Adam and Eve take.



* * *



“You know that if you fire me, I’m just going to get another job here, or I’m going to go back to Korea. It’ll be fine. I’m not the sort of noncitizen that you can intimidate with deportation. I have options. Sure, they’re not my first-choice options. But the trajectory of my life is going to be fine, so you can—”

“You added another person to the recombination trial,” Drew says. “Who is she?”

“Soyoung?”

Her name slips off your tongue before you can stop it. You weren’t expecting to have to hide Soyoung’s existence during this conversation.

“Yeah, Soyoung Kang. Rose.” Drew pronounces her name all American, all the syllables slightly wrong. “Who’s she?”

“Why were you looking at the trial data?”

“Is she your friend?”

“That’s not your business,” you say, because you don’t know what to say.

“Okay, sure,” he says. “But Soyoung, Rose, she’s supposed to be two people. She’s not registered as reintegrated. So. I’m not going to ask what’s going on with her. But.”

“Are you threatening—”

“I’m not trying to threaten anyone,” Drew says. “But I’m saying that even if you don’t care about yourself or your instance, that—citizenship, you might care about other people.”



* * *



Soyoung sitting in the bar, leaning forward and speaking so intently about her other self. Soyoung sitting on the roof, speaking softly about what had happened to her. The way she smiles at you. The way she handed you the USB drive so easily. The way her mouth felt on yours.



* * *



If Adam was offered the apple before Eve, would he give it to her?



* * *



“So, you know. Let me know what you want.”



* * *



You are tired of acceptance. You are tired of just saying okay. You are thinking about standing in your living room after Petra left and not chasing after her. You are thinking about every time you’ve laughed with other people about the pronunciation of your name. You are thinking about when you said yes to the promotion. You are thinking about how many things you have just accepted without asking. You want to tell Drew to shove it. You want to push him off the rooftop.