FIFTEEN YEARS EARLIER
The Fortitude ship, Protagoras, rocked and jostled. Intermediate flashing lights and sharp chirps signaled to the crew and passengers the need for moderate caution.
"Sam, please sit down and strap in. I don't want you hurt." Tama Jans looked to her husband and nodded to the seat next to her, the harness straps empty.
Sam acknowledged his petite wife with a wink and a smile. Then ignored her. Hunched over a little, he continued walking around the small chamber. With each lurch of the ship he stuck his long arms straight out, bracing himself momentarily against opposite sides of the room, his palms flat against the cool metal walls.
"Sam. You're not proving anything."
"Am too." His deep voice contrasted with the high pitch alarm.
Tama rolled her eyes, half smiling. "And what, exactly, is that?"
"That those restraints—"
"Safety seats."
"—Restraints that you love so much are unnecessary and worthless." Sam hung his hands to his side and kicked his feet in a jig. "See—" The large ship lurched, sending Sam into a sprawl that ended with the loud thud of Sam's head colliding against the empty seat next to Tama. "Blightin' Bernie Pilot!" Sam cursed and shook his head.
Tama laughed, knowing it took a lot more than a knock on the head to bring her stout husband down. "See. You'd not bang your head if you'd sat next to me in the safety seat."
Sam grumbled and stood, one hand bracing himself, the other rubbing the rising lump on his forehead. "Ha. It was the damn seat that did this to me! Unnecessary, worthless, and dangerous!"
Shaking her head, Tama laughed. "You're impossible."
"That's what makes me so irresistible."
"Says the man sprouting lumps from his face."
"One lump. More like a battle wound. The Jans Death Seat Conflict. It was a close battle, but the hero arose again, shaking off the empirical tyranny of the restrictive seat." Sam stood up in an attempt to look majestic and banged his head against the ceiling. He leaned against the wall, both hands rubbing his head.
Tama stifled her laugh. "Only to be brought down in the Low Ceiling Skirmish."
"Leave it to the Bernies to keep a man from his full potential."
"Yes, the Hibernarii designed this whole spaceship with the sole purpose of thwarting Samuel Jans and his bulkiness."
"Sturdiness. Not bulk. I'm sturdy." The ship pitched again, throwing the unrestrained Sam to the ground. He shot a glance at his wife, who was about to say something. "Don't."
"What?" Not even attempting to hide her smile.
"Just don't say anything." He sprawled out where he lay, his body covering most of the floor in the small chamber.
"What are you doing now? Come sit down. It's filthy down there."
"Stinks too. Like old grav-boots—all metal and musty." He put his hands behind his head. "It's comfortable down here. Wake me up when the damned Bernie pilots stop taking the back-roads."
"We're in the outskirts. Every route out here is a back-road."
The ship settled, the ride smoothing out. The ever-present low hum of the ships engine filled the void left by the, now silent, alarm.
"Thank Yuan." Sam sat down in the seat next to Tama. "Glad that's over and I can sit finally."
Shaking her head, Tama unbuckled her restraints. "You. Are. Impossible." She leaned over and kissed Sam. He pulled her to him, making the kiss more intense and longer than Tama had planned. She pushed away from him, laughing when Sam tried to pull her back. Despite his immense strength, Sam was a gentle husband. He could have held Tama to him with no chance of her escaping, but he'd never do that to her. Tama broke his grip with a small push and stood up.
He frowned at her. "The ride is smooth now. No reason we can't set it to rocking again."
"Oh yes," Tama said, her voice staccato, rolling her eyes, "you've charmed me into it. Your lumpy forehead and stink of dirty floor... so irresistible."
"Great. C'mon back here then."
"Go take a shower, Sam. A cold one."
Sam slouched back into his seat, lips pursed, head hanging down.
"No pouting." Tama leaned over and kissed the red bump visible through Sam's light red hair, but skipped back before he could grab her again, which he tried to do. "You're the biggest baby I know."
"Just trying to eat up dead time. 'Sides, when we get to Brunning, we'll be too busy setting up our house, the horticulture, all of that. Plus you'll be with child. I'll fulfill my purpose for existence. You won't need me anymore."
"Okay, you win."
Sam perked up. "Really?"
"Yep, nothing is more attractive than a pity party." Tama layered the sarcasm thick enough to crush any pretense or hope Sam had. "Go take a shower. I told Emese I'd visit her today. We'll talk later."
"And by talk, you mean..."
"Go take a shower, Sam." Tama slipped past Sam and out the door to their cabin.
Alone, Sam chuckled and did another jig, this one more successful. He grabbed a fresh set of clothes and headed out for the shower.
The Protagoras was a transport ship, a human transport ship—little better than a livestock carrier. UV lights and air filters attempted at a more comfortable environment than mere animals were usually afforded.
The Hibernarii pilots had their own special accommodations and in the three months on the ship, Sam had seen the augmented beings a few times. So he was surprised to see them a few doors down exiting the Absalom's cabin. The two males ignored Sam and walked the other way down the tight corridor. The female looked at Sam, one eyebrow raised, appraising Sam like a farmer would an impressive cattle or equine specimen. But only for a few seconds, then she strode after her companions.
"Damn Bernies." Sam muttered under his breath.
Sam knew they were lower-class Hibernarii because the three pilots looked almost exactly like a normal humans—except for the way they moved and carried themselves. They operated with a physical efficiency bordering on the other side of unnatural, almost like the two men and the single woman were designed to be pilots. With those freak cores in their hearts, they probably were, he thought.
He paused outside of Absalom's cabin, curious. He sniffed at his underarm and thought better of it. He did need a shower.
Outside of the sanitary station he heard a small laugh from within. "Xander, lad," he called inside, "you better not be making a swimming pool again."
The laughter cut short, followed by a few splashes. Sam chuckled and walked into the bright white room. Barely larger than his cabin, the bathroom had a few sinks, sanitation stalls, and past that, a shower chamber with only a waist-high door for privacy.
Sam sneaked to the door and threw it open. Water burst out, a small four-year old boy only in his underbriefs with it. Sprawled out on his back, surprise and shock painted the boy's face. Sam tried to give Xander a stern glare, but couldn't hold in his amusement. His deep, rumbling laughter bounced off the walls in the bathroom, joined shortly by a higher snicker.
"You scared me, Sam. That was awesome." Xander sat up, fully clothed and drenched. "Don't tell my dad. Please."
"I should, you know. Shouldn't be wasting water. Should you?"
"Aw, no big deal. Mom told me about filters."
"And that they take resources, energy." Sam kicked some of the draining water at the boy. "Plus, you little demon, you made a mess."
Xander shrugged. "There's drains."
Sam couldn't help but smile at the boy. "You got answers for everything, don't you."
"Yep." Xander splashed Sam, soaking his pants.
A water fight ensued. The Protagoras offered little by the way of distraction, much less entertainment. The seven other couples on the ship were decent folk and Sam carried on fine with them, but he really enjoyed time with Xander, the only child on the ship. At the onset of the journey, Xander had been weak, consequences from a recent surgery[[ mbccluff, 4/12/2017 8:58:40 AM
This is crucial... extremely so. Xander is Hibernarii and doesnt even know it. No one does.]], but the boy recovered, and fast. Their time together often ended in some degree of scolding from Xander's mom and Sam's wife.
Soon Sam was soaked to the bone. "Alright, lad." He held up his hands in surrender, backing to the exit door. "You win."
"Ha!" Xander stood up straight, fists to hips. "The great Xander Floros conquers the space-beast! Oh—" The smile melted from his face. "Hi, Dad."
A response came from behind Sam. "Xander, Sam."
Sam stiffened. "Absalom," he said, slowly turning around, "the boy and I were just cleaning the bathroom. Busy work, you know."
Absalom shook his head, half smiling. "Is that so? Xander?"
"Uh-huh." The boy nodded emphatically, showering droplets from his hair and sprinkling his father. "Oops."
Sam clenched his teeth, trying to fight back a laugh, but succeeded in snorting.
Xander grinned to his ears and Sam let loose, roaring out a laugh. Absalom wiped the water from his face, his stomach shaking in quiet laughter.
Sam truly admired the man. Absalom had given up everything—position, influence, and potential—the man was the closest a human could come to being Hibernarii without actually being one. He walked among circles and societies completely foreign to Sam. Hibernarii deferred to Absalom, they respected him, the Sthenos clan almost saw him as part of their family, not just another human to be used to further yet another higher Hibernarii cause. Almost an equal. Almost.
Whatever motivated Absalom to give everything up and lead a colonization into the Fringe was a mystery to Sam, but he'd served Absalom's family since he was a boy and Absalom a teenager. And when Absalom approached Sam with the opportunity to leave Tatmus Delta and all of the Hibernarii behind, the decision was easy. He trusted Absalom implicitly. He'd follow the man to Hell.
"Xander," Absalom smiled at his son, "your mother is out walking with Mrs. Jans. I suggest you go change while she is out of the room." He winked at Xander. The boy's grin grew larger. He rushed his father, wrapping his little soaked self around Absalom's legs. Xander bolted off, giggling. "And don't let her find your wet clothes either," Absalom called down the corridor after him.
"And you're sure Tama can't have a boy?" Sam chuckled.
Absalom arched an eyebrow at Sam.
"I know. I know." Sam spoke before Absalom could. "Mine and Tama's genetics will ensure a strong female for the settlement."
"True. But I wasn't going to say that."
"You weren't?"
"No. I was going to say girls are easier." Absalom held out a towel to Sam. "Less mischief."
"Aw. Now mischief I understand, we're old friends." Sam wiped his hair and face, not even bothering with his wet clothes. "Women, on the other hand, are always a guessing game of chance, no amount of strategy can help you. Girls are just compacted versions of the same."
Absalom nodded. "Meeting in the galley. We'll wait for you to change into something dry." He walked into the corridor.
Ignoring the wet clothes, Sam followed. "But don't think I'm not grateful." Truth was, Tama and him were ecstatic to have a child. In the couple's five years together, they'd never dreamed of the privilege of parenthood. The Hibernarii regulated human reproduction on Tatmus Delta, reserving the right for prime specimens, not serving class like Sam. Even then, the next generation was grown in labs. Because of Absalom, Tama and Sam would have their own child—a natural child. "Because I am grateful. Seeing you and Xander...the way he adores you...I'm excited for that for myself and Tama. I don't even know our Alana yet, but I'd die for her."
"Alana?"
"Tama chose the name. I know, a bit early."
"Not at all. Preparation is key to our success. Which is why I came for you just now. I had an interesting conversation with our pilots."
"They gonna be at the galley?"
"No."
"Good. That female rubs me the wrong way."
"All Hibernarii rub you the wrong way, Sam."
"Yes, there's that, but I think that one in particular wants to rub me the wrong way. A way Tama wouldn't like at all."
Absalom smiled and huffed out a small laugh. "And you would?"
"Blight no!" Sam shook his head emphatically. "Insults me you would even think it. Wouldn't touch a Bernie if I had to."
"They're not so far off from human, Sam. They have faults and desires just like we do."
"Faults, definitely. Desires, bleh. Like us? Never."
Absalom stopped outside of the galley entrance. "You should change."
Sam stepped back from his friend, scowling. "Now, Absalom, I respect your progressive nature, but asking me to think different of the Hibernarii—"
"No, Sam." Absalom laughed, patting Sam's wet shoulder. "Your clothes, Sam. Your clothes. I wouldn't ask you to change anything else."
"Oh...but the meeting?"
"Ten hours and we're done."
"Done?"
"The pilots took some risks, shortcuts. Ten hours and we're at Erimia. Our new home. I'm sure the other families will have questions. Go, change, sleep. I'll need your strength when we arrive." Absalom squeezed his shoulder and walked through the galley doors. Inside, Sam saw six couples already seated—the Larkins, Orquellos, Aldans, Suizas, Sumats, and Gosnans. Twelve pairs of eyes glued to Absalom.
Sam loped back to his cabin. Excitement brimmed off of him like electricity. He'd finally be done with the Protagoras. No more cramped, artificial living. Standing on real ground, letting the sun soak into his skin sounded amazing.
Rushing through his cabin door he almost collided into Tama.
"You're back!" They both said at the same time. Her voice just as excited as his.
Sam wrapped his arms around Tama, spinning her. "I take it Emese told you the news then?"
Tama giggled. "Yep!" She kissed him, then pushed him away. "You're wet."
"Took a shower."
"With your clothes on?"
"Washed myself and my clothes. I'm the pique of efficiency!"
"You're impossible." She smiled at him, smoothing down her wet shirt. "Now we both have to get something dry on."
Sam took off his shirt and started on his pants. "My love, we've a new life ahead for us. A family. A home. Perfection."
"We should get some rest before then."
"Agreed." He swept Tama into his bare arms. She squealed and giggled at him. "But first, let's celebrate."