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I’d know who my match was in less than twenty-four hours.
At least, that’s what my wrist com told me. Absentmindedly, I brushed my finger over the metal wristband on my right arm and the holo screen visible only to me popped up before my eyes. In the upper left-hand corner was a countdown, indicating when the computer would be finished calculating my match.
I licked my lips.
I wondered what he’d be like.
If he’d be cruel. Loving. Tame. Boring.
That is, if I’d even match at all.
I wondered if maybe I’d be the first female in history at the dating agency to fail the match process. Become a crazy cat lady or something. That was what they said about old unwedded spinsters, right?
The woman lecturing up front continued to drone on.
My sister would be put in the matching pool soon, but it would probably be some time before they ended up matching her. They’d take the time to scan her and assess her over time. They liked to have a lot of data before they attempted the match process. The people who ran the dating agency claimed that was one of the reasons that their success rate was so high. Ninety-nine-point nine percent, they said.
I couldn’t help but think about that small, zero-point-one percent. Who were those women? What happened when their match didn’t work out? Did they match again? Did they get sent off somewhere to live a life of loneliness?
The pessimist inside of me assumed I’d end up like one of them.
I crossed my legs and sat back, pretending like I was paying attention to the lecture when I was just watching the clock on my personal screen. Five more minutes and then I’d be free to use the rest of the day for whatever I wanted. Usually, our days were
pretty structured with various courses and electives, but today I was given more free time than usual.
The dating agency believed that the women they match should be intelligent and well-rounded, meaning we had to learn the material ourselves rather than just using the search function of our coms or data uploads to our brain microchips. It was a total pain in the ass, but it kept me busy at least. Kept my mind off my future alien husband.
One of the courses I’d elected to take was self-defense. I’d learned to fight with a knife, a gun, a hydrogen-powered revolver, as well as my own body. I mastered everything because I knew how important it was for me to remain strong, to own the rights to my own body even though I was about to be matched to some random alien that was probably going to be bigger, stronger, and more powerful than me. Supposedly.
I’d take care of myself. I’d fight. No matter what it took.
Finally, the clock beeped once, a low monotone sound that indicated that it was time for lunch. The woman up front nodded once and disappeared, one of the many holograms they used to teach the more basic lectures. My stomach growled excitedly, and I licked my lips.
I got up and walked out of the room. Lea bounced out of the door across the hall and grinned when she saw me.
“So, are you nervous?” she questioned excitedly.
“No, I really just want it to be over with,” I responded.
“I’m going to miss you,” she whispered forlornly, and I wrapped my arm around her shoulder.
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head,” I chided. “Once you get your own match, you’ll forget about me.”
“I’ll never forget you,” she replied with a pout.
“Don’t forget our coms. They work all over space and I’ll get your messages there. Wherever we end up, we’ll always have that. Pen pals for life,” I grinned.
Her lips drew back up into a smile.
“You’re right,” she said, her eyes crinkling at the corners with her joy. She studied me for a long moment, searching in my gaze for something I couldn’t quite identify.
I looked away, afraid she would see my hesitancy. Walking down the hall, I grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward the cafeteria.
“Come on. I’m hungry. I think they had pizza on the menu for today and you know that’s one of my favorites,” I exclaimed, hoping to distract her from whatever she was thinking.
She took the bait.
“I love pizza! I hope they have jalapeños and pepperoni on it this time!”
