“There’s going to be a queer and non-gender binary mixer later this week,” Klara piped up. “But I know that regardless, this speed-dating event must feel very exclusionary.”
Since when did Klara care about making things more equitable for all? Then I caught her stealing a glance over at Elliot. Seeking his approval? Was every woman I knew interested in him?
“Speaking of the app,” Klara went on, “everyone going tonight, don’t forget to fill out the dating questionnaire. It’s required to participate. Leo, are you going?”
Suddenly all eyes were on me.
“I guess so?”
With a groan, I pulled out my tab, looking for that “bloody rose,” as Evgenia called it. When I tried to tap on the dating questionnaire, I was prompted to fill out my personal profile first—which contained a whopping two hundred questions. Taking a long drag of my drink, I settled in to play catch-up. It seemed I would be participating in the Valg, whether I liked it or not.
Seven
The digi-deck was nearly at the bottom of the ship, two decks down from the royal quarters and located in the same forward section. The back half of the deck was all servants’ quarters. Outside the entrance to the digi-deck, the walls were painted with dynamic Earth landscapes and serene sunsets, a preview of the delights on offer. Or perhaps they were a way to keep us calm so we wouldn’t remember we were about to enter a giant windowless box. Though, really, weren’t we already on a giant box, floating in space? Did the windows make it better? I took a deep breath.
The digi-deck was the Scandinavian’s passport to escape, a cavernous space that offered a 360-degree virtual experience of your choice. There were props to sell the lie, like the sand at Klara’s beach party, and they even had rigs you’d strap into that jerked you to and fro, aiding the illusion that you were hang-gliding, or mountain climbing, or what have you.
I was not a big fan.
And so of course the speed-dating event was being held here. Two things I didn’t care for, rolled into one. I was surrounded on all sides by a sea of smarmy, smug boys who were already scoping out the women—I noticed their eyes skim over and past me, settling on the younger, prettier, wealthier girls on either side. This was going to be a trial in self-control. Already I wanted to leave, and we hadn’t even started.
We were corralled inside the digi-deck proper by Captain Lind, who made us line up in front of a series of doors arranged in a horseshoe shape, girls facing boys. Then she explained.
“First off, congratulations on arriving early and making the cut,” she began as I cursed under my breath. They’d capped the event at the first twenty-five girls and boys to arrive, and I’d been stupid enough to be on time. “The digi-deck has been partitioned off into individual chambers, into which you ladies will go and sit. A young man will join you, and you’ll be whisked away onto his idea of a perfect date.”
I raised my hand. “What about our ideal dates? We had to answer a ton of questions on the Valg app about that.”
“This event is about the men wooing the women. Go with it, Leonie,” Captain Lind snapped.
My cheeks burned at her censure. I edged for the exit, imagining I could just slip away and escape this torture, but my sister caught me.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” She grabbed me by the arm and held me fast to her side while I squirmed. Quite the role-reversal for us.
“Every five minutes, a buzzer will sound and a new gentleman will join you,” my aunt continued. “Gentlemen, you move to your right on each rotation.”
I glanced across at my first “date,” Theo Madsen. Like his sister, Asta, Theo was lanky, with short honey-blond hair and deep blue eyes, which were currently focused to my right, at my sister. Also to my right, next up for me, was Lukas Hagen. This was going to go so well.
“Now, you are each wearing a special sensor on your lapel that will pull up each other’s profiles on your Valg app and offer you a yes-or-no option. At the end of the evening, we’ll notify you of any mutual matches, and you can see your compatibility score based on your questionnaire. Easy!”
I fussed with my sensor, which I’d pinned awkwardly to my dress, whose unfortunately plunging neckline meant I kept feeling the sensor slip down into my cleavage. I righted it once more and caught Lukas enjoying the view.
“All right, ladies, head inside!” Lind called out, leaving me no time to do anything about it.
I slunk uneasily into a ten-by-ten room that was wall-to-wall screens. A dull purple light illuminated the space, barely. Even the floor was made of glass that would conform to the illusion. I didn’t see any props in the room, which made me curious what Theo’s ideal date would be. He’d always been a bit wild, so I was just relieved there weren’t any rigs indicating an extreme-sport activity.
After about thirty seconds of waiting, the door shuttled open and Theo stepped inside. He offered a little wave, a nod to our having known each other pretty much our whole lives and yet rarely speaking.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.”
And then we fell into silence as we waited for the door to seal and the room to plunge us into Theo’s fantasy date.
First the screens went black. Then the room swelled suddenly with loud music—insistent percussion, growling guitar riffs, and men screeching at the top of their voices. The light on the screens came up, just slightly, and we were in the middle of a crowded club. Well, the illusion of one. On one wall was a stage with a band playing its instruments with aggressive feeling, and on all other sides were people swaying, jumping, shoving one another.
“What the hell is this?” I screamed over at Theo, who had his eyes closed as he bounced up and down to the beat.
“PROG METAL!” Theo shouted back with a full-on grin.
“This is your idea of a great date?”
“Don’t you like it?”
“Uh.” I loved dance music, like EDM, and this had the barest hints of that. But it was just a bit beyond me. “It’s fine,” I hedged.
For a minute, I tried to dance, let Theo have his fun. But then he remembered that the point of this, theoretically, was to talk to each other. He pulled in close, talking loudly into my ear.
“What are you thinking?”
“Is that a trick question?” I didn’t trust too-attractive people. And Asta was always playing tricks in school. Theo was three years older than we were, so I wasn’t sure where he stood.
He shrugged. “Just a conversation starter.”
“Okay . . .” I tried to think of something semi-clever and not too personal. “I’m thinking it’s very weird that the captain is moderating a speed-dating event. Bit below her pay grade.”
“She’s your family, so I figured you’d have guessed.”
“Dressed?” I shouted back, mightily confused.
He shook his head, leaning in even closer and pitching his voice louder. “She’s glad-handing. For elections. At least a quarter of us here are voting age, and another quarter may very well marry the quarter of us who live here. Lots of new voters to woo. I think she wants us all to think she’s hip and fun.”
“She is neither of those things.”
Theo threw back his head and gave a great laugh. And then for a minute we danced. Or, more accurately, leaped around a bit. You couldn’t say I didn’t try. The song, at least, had levels, and during a slightly quieter bridge section, I took up the conversation again.