by Robert Mills
The autumn term ended and we were on holiday again. My father spent most of the time when he was not at work in his study as usual, but on a wet afternoon between Christmas and New Year he suddenly emerged and invited me to join him.
“I think it’s time we had a little chat,” he said, pacing the room uneasily.
“OK,” I said.
“The thing is, you are growing up and there are things which you need to know.” After clearing his throat he continued, “I am referring to the question of relations with the opposite sex.” He turned and looked directly at me. “Have you heard much about it at school?”
“Not really,” I said. I could feel myself beginning to blush. The garbled account of sex that I had heard from my fellow pupils was not something I wished to repeat in my father’s hearing.
“I see,” he said. “Well, you may have noticed changes in your body.” One would have had to be pretty unobservant not to, but I decided to let this comment pass without challenge. “You may also have noticed changes in girls’ bodies.” I nodded, trying not to display too much enthusiasm. “These changes are, um er, in preparation for…” He closed his eyes as he struggled to find the right words. “For, well um, reproduction.”
He sank into his chair as if exhausted by the effort of giving birth to this sentence. “The important thing,” he continued, “is that relations between men and women are only acceptable within marriage. Is that clear?” He fixed me with an earnest stare.
“Oh yes, perfectly,” I said.
“That’s good. I’m glad we had this little chat.” It was clear that interview was at an end and so I rose to leave. I had almost reached the door when he said, “I haven’t seen that pretty girl with the curly hair round here recently. Have you two fallen out?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Pity, I liked the look of her.” My father had not spoken a single word to Gardenia during the entire time I’d known her and I was uncertain that he’d noticed her presence during her visits to our house. Clearly I was mistaken. I closed the door behind me.
And so my sex education was complete. Fortunately I was able to acquire some more practical guidance by searching on the internet. It wasn’t easy because the architects of the ‘new age of innocence’ had placed as many barriers as they could between the young and this information. In any case, my first experience of sex was informed more by instinct and desire than factual knowledge, but more of that later.
My school days were coming to an end and my last year was overshadowed by the approaching assessments. I applied myself sufficiently to pass my exams and was able to look forward to the prospect of reading business administration at the Central London University. I didn’t exactly choose this subject myself. It was suggested by my father who worked for a large multi-planetary company.
During that long, hot summer before my first term at university Marvin once again became my regular companion. Soon after his return to Oakwood he proposed an expedition by bicycle along the newly opened North Oakwood Cycle Track. Cycling was enjoying a renaissance at that time as part of a campaign to stir the young from their sedentary existences. I had recently taken it up and was a keen but inexperienced cyclist.
Our route took us through a forest of ultra-high-rise apartment blocks and then along the bank of the River Darent. It was a fine day and we passed a number of other cyclists on our way. Our aim was to reach the hills on the northern edge of the city and enjoy the view across the thin strip of countryside that separated Oakwood from Greater London. The climb to the summit was hard going but it was a clear day and we were rewarded with a fine view of the towering buildings of central London which appeared to touch the cloudless sky.
“I don’t know about you but I’m thirsty,” said Marvin. “We passed a bar down the hill a bit. Let’s go in for a drink.”
“I’m not old enough to go into bars,” I protested.
Marvin gave me a withering look. “Oh come on,” he said. “You’re nearly eighteen and you look older. There won’t be a problem.”
At that time I’d never drunk alcohol, but I assumed that I could have a Supa-soda instead, so I raised no objection. Marvin approached the counter ahead of me and to my horror ordered two glasses of beer. I thought that he would think me childish if I objected, so I said nothing. The barmaid looked us up and down with an air of skepticism but, probably to avoid a confrontation, pressed the button on the dispenser marked Best Bitter.
We retired to a table by the window and I took my first sip. The froth at the top of the glass tickled my upper lip and the fluid beneath tasted bitter and unappealing, but I tried not to show my disgust. However, progress was slow.
“Are you enjoying that?” asked Marvin.
“Yes, it’s fine,” I replied with as much conviction as I could muster.
“I could always get you a lager instead, if you’d prefer.”
“No, no, I’ll stick to this,” I said. The prospect of starting on another drink when I was already part way through the first was daunting, as I was already starting to feel rather peculiar.
Marvin returned to the bar and bought some snacks. These complemented the beer well and gradually my glass emptied. Feeling the call of nature, I made a brief expedition to the toilet and then settled in front of my glass once more. As I continued to drink I noticed that I was feeling increasingly disorientated, but once again I made no comment to save face. Marvin had told me previously that he’d begun drinking beer soon after he started at university, explaining that it was pretty much expected if you wanted to fit in. My parents rarely drank and had never offered me any alcohol, presumably because I was under age.
Marvin finished his beer before me and said, “Come on, drink up, we ought to go.” As a result the last quarter of my drink was downed in one and as we rose to go my legs felt somewhat out of control. Much to my relief, I successfully mounted my bicycle and we set off. When we reached the river once more, Marvin urged me to pedal faster and I obeyed with the result that I lost control, wobbled helplessly and plunged into the water. Marvin collapsed into helpless laughter before coming to my assistance. For weeks after that he reminded me of my accident, adding comments like: “You’ll have to take more water with it!” It was only months later that he confessed that he’d topped up my glass from his own when I was in the toilet, so that I’d drunk far more than him.
When I got home I sneaked into the house and retired to my room to dry off and get some fresh clothes. I certainly didn’t want my mother to smell my breath or see me in my bedraggled state.
Chapter Seven
Despite once again having been the butt of one of Marvin’s jokes, I spent a lot of my free time in his company during my first term at university. He introduced me to the delights of the youth scene in London. It was an exciting new world of bars and restaurants, of talking late into the night and sleeping on fellow students’ floors when it was too late to return to my dormitory. Above all, it was a life free of the restrictions imposed by the tenets of ‘active parenting’.
I soon found that my course didn’t interest me greatly. I was also a little concerned that I had no idea as to what kind of employment I would seek when I graduated. In first year I simply put this to the back of my mind and concentrated on enjoying myself. Marvin, on the other hand, was now in his final year and spoke of looking for a job as soon as he graduated. At the last minute he changed his mind and announced that he was taking a short course in business studies. The merit of this was that he remained in London as a student for a further year and that we were studying in the same faculty, which suited me very well.
During this period both Marvin and I had relationships with a number of female fellow students. It was with one of these, a curvaceous chemistry student called Mhari, that I had my first experience of sex. It was a fumbling, less than satisfactory affair and as I embarked on the act I felt like an inexperienced shuttle pilot t
rying to dock with an orbiting space terminal for the first time. After a brief period of inept foreplay I rolled over on top of her, only to become painfully aware that there was still only limited stiffness in my cock. It seemed that I had reached a point of no return so I croaked hoarsely, “Help me.” To my great relief she grasped me and guided me to my target and I felt myself stiffen as I entered her. It was all over much sooner than I’d expected and I lay on her immobile with a great sense of relief.
“Have you finished?” she asked testily. I could feel myself blush and I hastily withdrew and rolled off her onto my back.
After a few minutes Mhari broke the silence by saying, “I’d expected more. I don’t know what exactly. Don’t get me wrong, it was nice, but if that’s all there is to it I’d have to say I think it’s rather over-rated. How was it for you?”
“Great, I had a great time,” I said. I felt that my tone of tone of voice betrayed the fact that this statement was not entirely true, so I added, “I expect it gets better if you do it regularly. Most things improve with practice.”
She brightened. “You’re probably right. Come on then.”
I hadn’t expected to be asked to perform again quite so soon and was uncertain if this was actually physically possible. All too soon she pulled me over on top of her, breathing, “I’m ready now, do it to me again.”
Somehow I managed to respond successfully to her request and when it was over I sank back onto my pillow with a great sense of achievement. To my great relief she fell asleep soon afterwards.
In subsequent years I was to develop and improve my sexual technique, but Mhari did not benefit from my growing expertise. It wasn’t long afterwards that she dumped me in favour of a fellow student with the ultimate sexual advantage: a flashy car. I was disappointed at the time, but I think that I’d already decided that she was not suitable material for a life-long partner.
For me none of these relationships were particularly significant and I believe that the same was true of Marvin. However, in 2152 he introduced me to someone who was to change both our lives. I remember the first time I met Liv very clearly. I was in second year and I’d moved into a flat with a couple of fellow students. We had the top floor of a decrepit building in an unfashionable suburb of the city. That evening Marvin was to collect me at around 7pm and we were to go to a local bar called The Star Ship for a drink. I thought that Marvin would like it because of the space-travel-themed décor and ‘sexy-girl’ robot waitresses. When the doorbell symbol flashed on the control panel of our smartscreen accompanied by the familiar synthetic ringing sound, I went down to find Marvin on the doorstop with a slim dark-haired girl.
“This is Liv,” he said by way of introduction.
She was rather too thin then, I thought, but undeniably pretty with her long, thick, dark brown hair and large grey eyes. My first thought was that she was just another in Marvin’s long line of girlfriends and that she would disappear from the scene after a few weeks. As she stood there in her all-weather coat looking shy and uneasy I had no way of knowing that she was to become so important to me.
We walked the short distance to the bar, ordered our drinks and chose a table in the corner where it was quiet. Marvin wasn’t his usual talkative self and sat holding Liv’s hand in his. I decided to find out more about her. “Are you a student?” I asked.
“No, I work in a technology shop in Fleet Street,” she said, with a shy little smile.
“How did you two meet?”
“I went in to buy a new wrist tablet and came away with more than I’d bargained for,” said Marvin, smiling broadly.
“It was funny, actually,” said Liv, her whole face lighting up. “I noticed him moving about the shop pretending to look at the stuff in the displays and wondered what he was up to. I thought he might be a thief planning a robbery, or something.”
“Of course I was just looking at her,” broke in Marvin. “I wouldn’t make a very good thief, or a spy for that matter.” He kissed Liv lightly on the cheek, and they smiled at each other in a conspiratorial manner.
She continued, “Eventually he came up to the counter and asked me if we had any wrist tablets that weren’t on display. He wanted something special.”
“It was the new 94g+ model actually.”
“I’d forgotten. Anyway, I had to check to see if we had it and I could see that he was staring at me. It’s not at all like me, but I said ‘What are you staring at?’ and he said ‘You’. I could feel myself blushing and then he said ‘Can I buy you a cup of coffee?’ and I said ‘I’m working’ and he said ‘What about later on?’ I don’t normally do things like that but I said ‘OK’.”
I got the second round of drinks and by the time I returned to the table Marvin had his arm round Liv and was nibbling her neck. “Stop it,” she said, blushing deeply. I felt decidedly out of it and somewhat embarrassed, so I was glad when Liv said that she had a transit vehicle to catch and we headed to the nearest station. Liv boarded her ATV and Marvin and I walked back to my flat.
Marvin was in high spirits. “Isn’t she great?” he said. “I think she’s ‘the one’, Symon, I really do.”
“What do you mean ‘the one’?”
“The one for me, of course, I really think I could spend the rest of my life with her.”
“But you’ve only just met her. You can’t know what she’s really like.”
“You don’t understand these things do you,” he said shaking his head. “It’s love. It hits you like a bolt of lightning and you don’t need to waste time thinking about it or worry about getting to know each other or any of that crap. You just know it’s right.”
“Does Liv feel the same?”
“I think so.”
“You haven’t asked her?”
“Not yet.”
“Shouldn’t you be telling her all this instead of me?”
“All in good time. Oh Symon, I just feel on top of the world right now.”
I knew from past experience that Marvin could be impulsive, but he generally had enough common sense to avoid getting into serious trouble. I imagined that he would either lose interest in Liv, like all the others, or their relationship would develop with time into something more permanent. I told him I was happy for him.
After his business course Marvin got a job at a medium-sized robotics company. He reported that the work was boring, but that the experience was valuable. He clearly enjoyed earning money at last and before long Liv was sporting an engagement ring, but there was no indication when the wedding would take place. I gained the impression that Liv was more eager to set a date than he was.
During my last year at university I saw less of Marvin, because he spent so much of his free time with Liv. This had the advantage of allowing me to develop a wider circle of friends. Marvin and I were still able to spend a certain amount of time together, when I was able to detach him from the possessive Liv, but all too often when I suggested that we should spend an evening together, he would have to decline because he’d already agreed to do something with her. This made me feel my own lack of a regular female companion more keenly.
As I was now at the start my final year I began to give serious thought to what I would do when I graduated. I really had no idea how I wanted to spend the rest of my life and in particular what field of business would suit me. As time went by I began to be quite concerned about the lack of direction in my life. It seemed that most of my contemporaries had their futures mapped out, or at least had some vague idea of where they were going in life.
Chapter Eight
In 2153 I obtained my degree, much to the delight of my parents, and returned home in triumph for the long summer holiday. After allowing myself a well-earned break during the early weeks of the vacation, I decided that it was time to consider the question of my future. I applied for a number of management traineeships but was invited to interview for only
one, with a company called the British Retail Consortium or BRC, a large corporation that owned many of the dwindling number of high street shops and a large online retailing operation.
Much of the centre of London had changed little in outward appearance over the preceding hundred years. It was not that it hadn’t been redeveloped but, because of planning laws, the buildings had been remodelled on the inside while retaining their historically important or supposedly architecturally meritorious facades. In the other areas the demolition squads had been given free rein and multi-storey towers constructed with more efficient modern materials had replaced the traditional buildings of the past. My interview was held in one of these areas, a wilderness of commercial properties rising imposingly into the sky.
I arrived early and was directed to an office where I was subjected to virtual environment aptitude and psychometric testing. Two young women in dark business suits conducted the interview itself. They sat behind a desk on which there was a response analyser, which was switched on and clearly trained on me. The larger of the two women, a sour-faced creature with glasses, did most of the talking. The questions were predictable: what projects had I done during my course, what area of business administration interested me, where did I see myself in ten years’ time, etcetera? I responded with my pre-prepared answers.
Finally the other woman spoke: “Have you considered working in one of the off-world colonies?” she asked. “Callisto is a major growth area in retailing right now.”
“No, I haven’t,” I said. “Do you send your trainees there?”
“No, the training post is on Earth; my question refers to what you might want to do when you finish your year in the scheme, should we appoint you.”
“Well, I haven’t thought about it, but I don’t see why not.”
