Pearl Canyon Like You’ve Never Seen It Before

Leo was tired and his neck hurt, thanks to a long, uncomfortable ride on the night train. But, his mood was upbeat. After several dull weeks cooped up at home during his seasonal employment furlough, the circled day on his calendar had finally arrived. Vacation day.

Now, he was second in line at the reception desk at the Pearl Canyon National Park visitor center, behind a tall, foreign-looking woman. The receptionist, a frumpy woman huddled over a chart, tapped the desk.

“Pass?”

The tall woman handed over a vacation voucher.

“Laborer or engineer?”

“Neither. Artist.” She spoke with a slight accent.

The receptionist grunted and looked up. “Well, look at you.” With an expression that appeared equally admiring and disdainful, she marked her chart with a capital A. “What sort of art?”

“Have you ever seen sand sculptures on the beach?”

“I’ve never been to the beach.”

“Well, I make those.”

“Huh. I didn’t know that was a job.”

With this brief foray into extracurricular chatter now concluded, the receptionist resumed her prescribed line of questioning. “Hike, aerial tour, or river ride?”

“Aerial tour.”

“Your tour leaves from Landing Pad 1, as soon as a second passenger signs up.” She added the voucher to the proper stack and handed over a green tour pass and a glossy pamphlet, titled: Pearl Canyon Like You’ve Never Seen It Before!

“Next!”

Leo stepped up to the desk.

“Pass?”

He handed her his voucher.

“Laborer or engineer?”

“Laborer.”

“Hike, aerial tour, or river ride?”

He’d been looking forward to a hike.

But he’d never met an artist before.

***

They waited on a bench. Leo managed to introduce himself and get his travel companion’s name—Dawn—but he didn’t push for a conversation.

After a few minutes, the pilot arrived. He was an older fellow, surely in his last year or two before retirement. He shook hands with the two passengers, then took a few steps back before speaking, as if he were addressing a much larger audience.

“Today’s tour will take four hours. You can trace our route on the map in your pamphlet. The scenic landmarks are numbered. The pamphlet includes a description of each landmark.”

With added emphasis, he continued, “The pamphlet is your tour guide. I am your pilot. While I am operating the aircraft, I cannot see you, and I cannot hear you. If you have a medical emergency, press the red button on the ceiling above your seat. Any questions?”

Dawn smiled and pointed at the drone. “Is this a Model 9?”

“Yes.”

“Does it have a full tank of fuel?”

The pilot squinted doubtfully at Dawn, but seemed uninterested in taking whatever conversational bait was being dangled in front of him. “Yes, it does. Any other questions?”

***

Leo and Dawn climbed aboard. The pilot closed the doors behind them, seated himself up front, and promptly started their flight.

A few moments after takeoff, they soared over a sharp cliff.

Named for its beautiful off-white sheen, Pearl Canyon’s surface was smooth, wavy, and infinite.

Leo took in the splendor while coping with the unpleasant physical and psychological sensations that accompanied his first experience flying in such a small aircraft. His companion seemed more at ease. She faced him with a friendly expression, but it was the sort of smile that an adult presents to a child.

“Did you know that this used to be a forest?”

“Really?”

Dawn sighed. “And then it was a mine. That glassy color, it’s from the chemicals left behind from the mining process. That’s why nothing grows here.”

Dawn said the strangest things, but spoke with an unnatural confidence. Leo felt uneasy, unguarded.

“Is that something they taught you in sand sculpting school?”

Dawn grinned.

Leo pressed on. “You’re not really a sand sculptor, are you. There’s no such job.”

“Oh, there is. And I am. You should see my work, it’s quite good. But if you’re thinking that I’m also something else, you’re right about that.”

“What else are you?”

Dawn looked into his eyes. “Look. I can tell you more about myself later. Right now, I have to ask you a question. I already know the answer, but I want you to tell it to me: do you know how to fly this drone?”

“Of course not. I work in a chemicals factory.”

“Okay. I need you to understand this: I do know how to fly this thing. And in about two minutes, the pilot is going to pass out. A very strong sedative is already moving through his bloodstream. When he falls asleep, you’re going to help me move him into my seat, and I’m going to take his place.”

“You poisoned him.”

“When I shook his hand, I injected him with a dose of a harmless sedative. He’ll be fine after a nice, long nap.”

Leo’s eyes darted up to the big red button above his head.

Dawn put a hand on his knee. “That won’t help. Even if he turns us around right now, he’ll be unconscious before he can get us back to the park.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Leo, do you know what’s to the east of Pearl Canyon?”

“The ocean.”

“No. Well, yes, there’s an ocean, but first there’s a forest. And mountains. And farms, and cities. And I’m going to take you there. You’ll be able to return home later, if you want to. You and the pilot. But stealing this drone was the only way for me to get back to where I come from.”

“Why did you bring me along?”

“You weren’t chosen. You’re here because you saw a chance for some one-on-one time with a pretty stranger.”

“I see.”

“We live in a world that’s been split in two. There was a war, then a separation. Your people and mine, we put a great distance between us, and we lost contact. Your kind chose to forget about us. But my people have kept our history.

“A few months ago, I was sent across the divide to make contact. But when I arrived, I found a dying civilization. I was sent to open up communications, to make a fresh start. But that wasn’t possible. Your leaders would have locked me up or killed me. So I hid away, learned how to blend in, and planned my return trip.”

“A dying civilization? We’re stronger than we’ve ever been.”

“You’re dying. You all are.

“How much of your world have you actually seen? The few blocks around your apartment? Once per year, your government lets you travel, and the most appealing destination is a wasteland like this?” Dawn flicked her wrist to indicate Pearl Canyon.

Leo turned away and stared down at the canyon. There were no borders in sight, just a repetitive, lifeless expanse. Was it pearl-like? Or simply gray?

He looked back at Dawn and started to speak. He wanted to know if the canyon truly used to be a forest. He wanted to know more about where she came from, about their shared history. He wanted to defy her, or to join her; he wanted to say something profound.

She cut him off. “Leo. There’s no conspiracy. You just live in an awful world, and I’m going to show you a better one. Then, you can do whatever you want. We’ll talk more when we get there. Right now, I just need you to help me move this guy.”

As he had done his whole life, whenever someone—anyone at all—gave him an order, Leo did as he was told.