When We First Met (5)
We'd talked about the sea once before, back when we first met.
"Did you go swimming?" Artemis asked as I stepped into the Central Control Room.
"You bet!" The West Sea isn't great for swimming, but the water connected to the Shelter Cave is an exception. The drop-off is steep right away, and the rocky seabed keeps it crystal clear. No crowds, perfect diving spots, and since it's still part of the West Sea, the water's nice and warm. If push comes to shove, you can strip down for a nude swim. Personally, I think this is Korea's best beach.
The rear gate's a restricted zone—limited access only—but I'm one of those select few. That's right! I'm a pretty big deal myself. It just doesn't show next to the truly amazing Artemis.
Lately, I've felt like Red watching Andy Dufresne escape from The Shawshank Redemption.
"There's a spot perfect for swimming in the Shelter Cave. The shelter has a pool, but I prefer diving into the real sea there."
Artemis shuddered. Makes sense—being submerged for her is basically a death sentence.
"It's amazing. Such a shame you'll never know this feeling."
A beach scene appeared on the massive screen in the Central Control Room. Artemis lounged on a bench by crashing waves, soaking up the sun. The surf rolled in and out beneath her outstretched toes. Risky spot, but it's not real—what's the harm?
"..."
I was too mesmerized to reply. Her cool skin radiated untouchable nobility, rejecting any man's touch. Those moist lips would stay sweet even after a century of salty sea breezes. Glorious silver hair danced in the wind. Moonlight seemed to infuse her entire body—no need for sunscreen.
Goddess. No word fit her better.
I snapped out of it only after she called me several times.
"Gorgeous. More beautiful than anything I've ever seen."
The beach on the screen was more perfect than any real one—drawn from her ideal imagination.
"Still can't beat the real thing, though. Human senses are incredible."
Artemis grumbled.
"No. I'm spot on."
Convince a supercomputer? She'd counter any logic I threw at her. After a moment's thought, I switched tactics.
"Our intellect gap is too vast for science or logic. Let's go emotional instead."
She perked up. Even a ruler of numbers and logic found emotions uncharted territory—like quantum mechanics once baffled scientists.
"Artemis, I want you to taste it. The sea enveloping your body. Swaying with the waves, bare feet sinking into wet sand with every step. Wiggle your toes, and sand and water slip between them. Cool sea breeze on damp skin. Droplets from your hair pattering down your shoulders, breasts, thighs. I want you to feel it all."
My throat was dry from the long spiel, so I chugged a glass of water. She waited patiently, no rebuttals.
"I hate enjoying it alone. I want you to know it too. That's all I think about."
People feel this about sharing good food, but Artemis lacks even basics before taste.
Sadly.
"So yeah, I'm evaluating it right."
Artemis stayed silent. Only artificial waves from her simulated beach echoed in the Central Control Room—sounding oddly unstable.
Time marched on. Watching and resolving events by Artemis's side felt like witnessing a living legend. Used to be Andy and Red, but now it's more like Homer chronicling a real myth.
Right beside a goddess.
'Still refusing full sync?'
The time to ask was nearing, but fear kept my mouth shut. One question could shatter our growing bond. Shelter manager duty took a backseat. Our relationship came first.
"Not in a position to bash my predecessor."
My mumble startled me.
"Nothing."
Even during our games and hobbies, I held back.
She even downgraded herself for fun with me—nope, still didn't ask.
She caught me breaking rules once.
Ding.
She deleted CCTV footage, fudged logs, and looked the other way right in front of tense me. Still, no question.
One month, my paycheck was way fatter than usual, so I checked.
The screen showed me busting my ass. Impossible unless I subconsciously cloned myself.
"I was raiding at home that day?"
"Plus, I don't rock that thug hair or that sleazy grin."
An anime character clutched wads of cash, yelling from the screen. A Simpsons-redesigned silver-haired woman.
"It's not even your money."
She flipped her hair proudly.
"..."
Even when she illegally padded my pay beyond just covering my slips, I didn't ask about full sync.
Maybe her kindness scared me more—happy as I was.
Some think, 'She's this nice; time to confess.' Others step back: 'This could all crumble.'
I wasn't always such a coward.
Rewiring all control room lines—tough job, but nearly done. Time heals even machines, it seems.
Artemis had changed. No more NASA rants. We patrolled, reviewed, improved the shelter together.
She handled assigned tasks—and unassigned ones—at 120% perfection.
But shadows lingered deep in her heart. Her core purpose: lunar colonization. Impossible now.
Humans like me can shrug off missions, but for her, purpose is existence. Each day denies it.
Asking for sync amid that felt cruel.
But construction's end loomed. Time to convince her.
I agonized, then found the best way.
"Haaa."
Deep breaths, then I summoned her to the Central Control Room.
Her face filled the huge screen. "Mr. Seo" became "Dr. Seo"—respect as fellow scientist with my PhD, beyond just admin and AI.
I breathed deep instead of replying.
"Artemis. You are a goddess."
I said it as reverently and seriously as possible.
She looked flustered at the out-of-nowhere compliment.
"Why not? Your name, lunar mission, vast intellect, purity—you fit perfectly."
Instant rebuttal.
She saw it as philosophical fun—curiosity and amusement in her voice.
My plan was simple: easier to fuel an existing fire than start one from scratch. Stoke her arrogance and pride till it blazes, sweeping away gloom and sorrow. Make sync trivial, old memories laughable.
That was it.