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“I want to get the base going again,” Skull said to Rae as they ate dinner, the quads two a side next to them at the table. While his avatar didn’t need to do so, he’d equipped it with senses as similar to a human as possible in order to share his family’s experience, and to maintain the illusion of normality.
“I want to help,” Andrew piped up.
“You always want to help with something new, until it actually comes time to help,” Leslie snarked.
“Kids, please,” Skull shushed them. “I think it might be useful.”
“Why?” Rae asked. “It’s barely alive, and the comet it’s on isn’t all that stable. Slap an engine on it and it might break apart.”
“All right,” he said reasonably, “we can find a better base body – a good solid asteroid. Zeke can keep his eyes peeled for one and let us know.”
“I still don’t understand why,” Rae replied. “We have everything we need on the ship.”
“It’s all our eggs in one basket, though, isn’t it?” Skull observed reasonably. “And that biomass is a lot easier to digest than raw rocks and comets. I could recycle some of it, make a new fresh young base, and consume the rest.”
“Ew,” Stephanie said, holding her nose. “That’s like, cannibalism or something, isn’t it, Daddy?”
“For a standard human it would be,” he replied. He found it always paid to be matter-of-fact when it came to discussing sensitive topics with adolescents. The more you get wrapped around the axle about something, the more they focus on it and become fascinated by it. Nothing like going into the details of digestion, elimination and reproduction to demystify the process and make it not interesting and “ew.”
“But,” he went on, “Meme ships are made to consume and reprocess just about anything. They like biomass best of all. If we ever discovered plants that could grow on asteroids without atmosphere, we’d have an ideal food source. Or if we could graze on Earth.”
“Humans don’t like Meme ships,” Charles said. “The tabloids are always talking about how they could go rogue or create another plague or something.”
“Standard humans,” Leslie corrected him.
“You know what I mean,” he replied.
“Why don’t you say what you mean then?” she answered.
“No bickering at dinner,” Rae said, her voice rising a bit. “You know the rules.” The two subsided with mutual glares. “All right, I can see your point,” she said to Skull again. “It might be useful to have a mobile base for ourselves.”
“A secret base?” Andrew asked, playing with his spaghetti.
The rest of the family stared at him for a moment before Skull replied, “That’s a damned fine point, Andrew. Yes, a secret base. Why not? We can always tell them if we need to.”
Everyone knew who “them” were. Standard humans. No matter how often they reminded each other they also were human, everyone knew they were very, very different.
“All right, I guess,” Rae conceded. “We’ll see what Ezekiel comes up with.”
“Hmm-hmm,” Skull replied, his mouth full of meatball. “Good spaghetti, hon.”
Rae smiled. “Grandma’s recipe’s still the best.”
The next ship day Skull presented Rae with three choices of asteroid.
“These all look suspiciously well selected,” she said.
“I had Zeke looking already,” Skull admitted. “I didn’t see you saying no.”
“All right. Then let’s get to work. When will we get there?”
“We have to go eat the old base first. I’ll ask Zeke to meet us there to help.”
“Good,” Rae exclaimed. “Always nice to see our firstborn.” Her eyes took on that faraway quality known to mothers everywhere when contemplating their offspring.
Skull couldn’t understand it, but he’d gotten used to it. He put his head close to hers and tightened up the room’s seal. Their children’s’ hearing was preternaturally keen. “Frankly, I miss him. He was such a good kid. People say an ordinary childhood goes by fast...try a Blend.”
“He’s almost grown up now,” Rae replied, still with that look. “Tall and handsome just like you were. Are, I mean. Oh...” Her expression fell. “Sorry.”
“It’s all right. You forget sometimes, and so do I.”
That I’m not really me, but just a cheap-ass copy.
“That’s why I call you Alan,” Rae went on lamely.
“Because I’m not him. I know.”
“Because you’re better,” she insisted. “You’ve grown...outgrown your old weaknesses. And you have a family now. Fatherhood suits you.”
“It does.” For now. I’m actually glad that they grow so fast. Less guilt when they’re grown. He wished he could really talk to his wife, but how could he fully trust someone who once reached inside his mind and tinkered with it like a Harley mechanic?
That’s what we lost when I died. Full trust. Or at least the chance at it. Once that trust shattered into a thousand pieces, it’s damn hard to glue it back together.
Skull shoved that out of his mind as he did every time his brooding thoughts threatened to overwhelm him. He put on a smile and changed the subject. “So let’s go build us a new base.”
