The Night Market

Ricke had been right. Old Brooks was beautiful at night, magical in a way I had never experienced before. The sky above us was tinted dark with blue and purple hues, while down here on the ground, the streets were lit up with warm strings of light. There were also many wandering bots around, flashing their own lights to the rhythm of the music that came from one of the many side streets. The sound of flutes and string instruments carried over to the heart of the Night market, where the merchants showed off their wares on big, colorful stands.

We walked along as I looked at the wares. Everything was just so different from what I knew back home—the spices and fruits, the dishes that were cooked here had a distinct smell to them that I didn't recognize, but which was warm and comforting all the same. Someone had baked little buns in geometric shapes, decorated with nuts and sugary glazes, while others served hearty soups or multicolored, sparkling drinks.

There were craftsmen, as well. One lady was carving a new instrument as we walked by, with others shown off in front of her, twisting and turning in smooth shapes. Someone else was crafting little dolls with mechanical skeletons, which jumped and danced around on his table, their clothes as fluffy as a bird's plumage. I watched them frolic around, and when one of them turned around and waved at me, I waved back, instinctively. I smiled.

Really, this had been a great idea to come here. Otherwise, I would have missed this.

And I would have missed Emelyse's wonder as well. She couldn't turn her head around fast enough, as she drank in all the experiences around her. She was typing quickly on her device, and I could see that her mind was working on several layers. But all the while, she had a bright smile on her face.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" I asked her.

"This is fascinating," she muttered.

"Yeah, it's special."

"So it's not something normal?"

I shook my head. "Well, not in the way they do it here. We have markets everywhere, but... not many at night. Not lit up like this."

My eyes caught a man sitting on a striped rug, tinkering with bots. "Ah!"

I went over to him, but his prices (which were adequate, no doubt) quickly deterred me again. I couldn't afford new bots, not to mention any custom ones! I would have to get back to customizing them myself once this trip was over.

Over... only a few days ago, I would have loved for all of this to be over in an instant. To teleport Lottie away and just be done with it. But now... I felt torn. Sure, Lottie still drove me mad with her slow speed and cheery attitude, but I was growing fond of her. And the journey itself (while, still cramped) wasn't so bad, either.

Faintly, I could remember that I had visited something like this market in holo reality some time ago. I couldn't remember the details, but I knew the colors had been even brighter, the movements of everything faster, and the whole thing had been programmed to be even more spectacular. So why couldn't I remember one specific thing?

There were so many experiences in holo that I had gone through. Concerts, amusement parks, natural wonders. It all paled in comparison to this. Here, I truly felt alive. My heart was beating in my chest, and I couldn't stop myself from smiling. I wanted to drink it all up - the sounds, the scents, the food and drink and laughter of the people. Watching others sing and dance, without the perfect movements of bots or pre-rendered experiences, was wonderful. Back home, I usually didn't pay them attention when I saw people on the street performing their art. I usually played my own music, maybe a video over my lenses if I really wanted to take some information in.

Just how much had I missed out on? It felt like I was slowly understanding what my parents had meant. I couldn't even roll my eyes at them anymore. That's just what you wanted, huh? Me, enjoying this trip. Huh.

Sure, it would have been even better with Lia and Been to experience this, but... I winced. I had acted like a real jerk. I should have said something. But what would I have said? And how hurt would I have been, if they refused to come with me? No, my reaction had been alright. Maybe, in the future, I would do it differently. I might get the courage to talk to them, to open up. Maybe. Just maybe.

"You are thinking a lot," Emelyse said.

"Huh? Oh, yeah."

I blinked, and looked around. Right.

"Do you want to get something to eat?"

It didn't look like we would be able to stock up on provisions here, but we could get at least something for dinner. Emelyse nodded.

"Here, I want to try this."

She grabbed my hand and led me to a stall at the edge of the market. There, a woman - small and wrinkled - put little pastel blobs of something into tiny clear crystals.

"What's this?" Emelyse asked.

"You're not from here, hm?" The woman asked. "These are sugar stars, handspun by me. Here, try one."

She put a pink star on a stick in Emelyse's hand.

"You, too, dearie," she continued, and gave me one as well.

I looked at the sugary thing. The tiny sugar crystals on the outside glittered in the lights, giving it its own shine. My star was a pale blue, and one of its arms was a little crooked. I didn't care. When I bit into it, I was surprised at the crunchy outer shell. Together with the sugar it created a rough, yet interesting texture that contrasted the smooth jelly on the inside. And in the very middle was a liquid core which tasted like sour blueberry. Together with the almost overwhelming sweetness of the rest, it was tasty enough that I immediately bought three more for each of us. The woman put them in a small box, and I was pretty sure she slipped in one more. I smiled as I paid, and we went on.

"This is nice," I said.

"It really is." Emelyse put more into her little device.

This time, I couldn't help but ask. "What are you doing there?"

She looked at me. "Documenting, of course."

"What? Human behavior?"

"Not only. Right now, I'm documenting this evening," she said. "I want to keep it in my memory, forever."

I smiled at her. "I understand. I feel the same."

This moment was precious. And while I was sure I had already burned it into my memory, into my heart, I wanted something more. I touched the palm of my right hand, and a lens whirred to life.

"How about we take a picture, then?"

Emelyse looked at me, then at my palm. "That sounds good."

Without a photo bot, it was difficult to get a good shot, especially after I shut off the AI to correct my photos. Old school, just like Mom and Dad liked to take them. I would have to print them in some shop, but until then, I would ask Lottie to display them as holos. That would suffice, for the moment.

My smile was lopsided, and I showed too much teeth. Emelyse did, as well. She didn't close her eyes but stared right at the camera. Sometimes, her glasses would catch the light, and her eyes wouldn't even be visible. I, on the other hand, couldn't manage a picture with both my eyes fully open. Some of them were blurry. Others were shaky, when my hand brushed against the people. Some were too bright, and others too dark. But they all managed to catch the feeling of that particular night, even for decades to come. I knew, even back then, that this moment was precious. Not just the photos, but the act of taking them, as well. As imperfect as they were, they were just right.

We were laughing, and drinking in the night, glowing just as bright as the lights around us. Maybe, if you watched from space, you could even see our own shine, waving at you.