by Corey Furman
Harry paused to roll another one, and as he lit up, he began the story. “I was allowed to have two simulants because of the job I was doing – it would be too much for just two. Anyway, Steven was his name. He and Sirvon were mated –”
“Yeah – chromas, I guess.”
“Yes. Like I was saying, they pretty much did all of the inflight repairs. Well, on the last run we made, the drive malfunctioned and locked itself into a runaway process that just kept dumping fuel into the core. Once it completely saturated the chamber, we would have dropped out of hyperspace at full tilt. It could have happened at any moment. The ship wouldn’t have been able to withstand the inertial forces, and we’d have been torn apart.”
“Okay, I guess I follow close enough.”
Harry drew in a deep breath, and sweat began to stand out on his brow. He looked away as he continued to describe the scene, and his voice took on a faraway quality as the visceral memories pulled him back to that place. “There was only one way to stop the runaway process. Someone was going to have to crawl behind the shielding on that damn drive and pull the plug on the fuel manually.” He inhaled a lungful of smoke and let it out slowly, the cloud of it enveloping his face. “He didn’t even think about it. I mean he knew what would happen, what it meant, but Steveo went in there anyway. Once he got in there he could tell that there was enough fuel in play that it didn’t matter, so he scrammed the drive instead of killing the fuel. It was risky as hell, but he made the right call.” He gave a little laugh. “Steveo was the best engineer I ever knew! And he was my friend, too.”
Harry sighed. “Exposure to all of that raw radiation killed him fast… but not fast enough. I could tell the moment he died.” He turned to Joss. “The screaming had stopped, but I don’t know, maybe thirty or forty seconds later he gasped out his last death rattle. He might have been trying to stop the fuel by then, but I couldn’t be sure. Sirvon was shrieking at the top of her lungs, but I could hear his breathing over the comm anyway, and then it stopped, and I knew... She got away from me and went in part way after him before I could grab her again. The ship was safe from being slammed into real space, but the fuel kept dumping into the intermix chamber and it exploded. She was hit by chunks that had spalled off the drive, and she was torn up pretty bad.”
He paused to drag on his smoke again.
“Anyway, we still dropped out hard. The inertial dampeners couldn’t keep up with a deceleration that rapid, and it felt like we’d collided with something. The jolt tossed me like a sack of laundry into a bulkhead, and I cracked a bunch of ribs and a collarbone. Nasty concussion, too. The shoulder still aches sometimes.” He squeezed his left shoulder through his light jacket. “But I sealed her wounds as best I could and managed to get her into their hyper-sleep pod. By the time I got the emergency beacon activated, I was coughing up blood. I crawled into the pod beside her and shut us down until we could be rescued.
“Holy shit,” said Joss.
“Yeah, I know,” he replied. “But you see where this is heading. I got out of piloting after that, and took her with me. I was tired of the loner in space thing, and she was desperate for some companionship. They say simulants adapt better in pairs. So, our friendship became dependence on each other, and I married her nearly fourteen years ago.” He took another pull of smoke, finding that it had stopped satisfying him. With a look of disgust, he dropped nearly a third of it on the ground and ignored it.
“What about the lifespan? How did she survive?”
“A lot of the high end tech simulants are engineered to live normal lifespans. It’s just too expensive to let them expire in ten years. You’d never know it to look at her, but she’s a hyper drive specialist, and a really good one at that. Anyway, we moved around and got lost in the crowd for a few years after the accident. I got her a legit-looking ID from a friend of a friend of a friend, married her, and we settled here. Been that way ever since.”
“And the kids? I thought they were all sterile. Oh, wait –”
“yeah, simulants. We special ordered Amber as a prepubescent duplicate of Sirvon. No tech skills. We got Aaron to keep her company.”
“Do they know… what they are?”
“We had to tell them. They’ve got real ID’s, but they’d always need to be careful. Anything more specific than a blood test and the situation would be blown wide open.”
Joss was reeled with the info. He’d heard more about his friend in the last few minutes than he’d ever known. “Holy shit – this is crazy. Who else knows?”
“Just you, now. My parents are gone and I haven’t seen my brother in more than twenty years; don’t even know where he is. I’m telling you because we’re friends and to maybe give you some perspective, maybe help you see that however they’re made, they’re still just people. I don’t give a damn what the government says.”
“I’m not as down on them as I used to be, but they aren’t human, man. Doesn’t any of that register with you?”
“Most people would agree, more or less, Joss, but no, I don’t.” Harry took the edge that had crept into his voice out. “I’m not asking you to change everything you’ve ever felt, just giving you something to think over. On the job, sometimes I’m not sure you get how to work with them. If you treat them decent enough they’ll just do their jobs. They know they aren’t human, but if you make them feel like garbage, there will be problems.”
Joss held his hands up. “Okay, I guess I’ll think about it. In the meantime, I’ll… try harder to get along with the crews, man.”
Harry smiled. “That’s all I’m asking for.” He waved his hands. “Let me think about dinner. I’ll talk to Sirvon, okay?”
On Thursday morning two days later, Harry got back to Joss. He had a peculiar look on his face as he spoke. “Okay, here’s the deal. I spoke to Sirvon, and she suggested we do dinner at your house. We’d be glad to bring the food.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad.”
“Yeah, well, there’s a small catch – two really. We can’t just leave the kids by themselves, so we’ll have to bring Aaron and Amber.”
“You know my place is kind of small…”
“Smaller than mine, smartass?”
“Alright, I get your point. I just haven’t spent any time around kids. Are they like regular kids?”
“Are you kidding? Of course they are.”
“Okay, when?”
“Tomorrow’s Friday; how about then?”
Joss stuck his hands in his pockets. “Okay, see you then.”
Not sure what to say to the girls, he was nervous as he went home that night.
Their kiss the night of Maré’s birthday was still upsetting him. Sisters shouldn’t act like that. He knew that his history with previous pairs was affecting his view of them, that they weren’t really like a family, but he was starting to remember how things had been. Sometimes it seemed like the timeline was a little jumbled around, but he didn’t dwell on it. In any case, it would be nice to have love in the house again – Riss would have wanted it that way for the kids – but the kiss had changed everything. So he had kept them at more than arm’s length. Now he needed to pretend that everything in the house was okay.
But there had been a not-so-subtle change in their behavior, ever since their not-so-subtle show of affection. He supposed that they must have sensed the change it had caused, because he hardly ever saw them touching each other now, and they kept to themselves whenever they were allowed to.
He decided he was going to have to bring up both subjects over dinner.
Except for the occasional clink of utensils on the plates, they ate in mild tension. He had trouble finding the right words to get started, and his gut was churning over it. Their world was very small; the present tension aside, it had been good, maybe even pretty well. He didn’t want to ruin it. He decided it was best to just say what needed to be said, so he broke the silence.
“Girls, we need to discuss a couple
of things.”
They looked up from their plates. “Are we in trouble, Sir?” said Maré nervously.
“What? No – something special is happening tomorrow night.”
Luna looked at him with curiosity, but he read fear in Maré’s face when he saw the whites in her eyes. He held his hand up towards her in a braking gesture. “Easy, nothing to be defensive about,” he said, though if she relaxed it wasn’t visible. He plodded on. “A friend of mine from work, Harry is coming to dinner tomorrow night. He’s bringing his wife and their two kids, Aaron and Amber. Sirvon and the kids are simulants.”
Maré froze with her mouth part way open as if she were going to say something, but then forgot what it was. Breylin couldn’t help smiling as he thrilled a little to see her reaction to his words. Looking at her he said, “close your mouth, dear, you look foolish.”
Looking back at him stunned, she clicked it shut.
Luna spoke into the quiet that followed. “Neither of us has ever met a simulant from another line, Mr. Breylin.”
“Don’t stress over it. Everything will be fine.”
Maré spoke quietly. “I haven’t met anyone else on this planet…”
Luna took her hand and squeezed it. To Breylin she said, “What needs to be done? What do you want us to cook?”
“Actually, they will be bringing the food. You girls only need to make sure this place is very clean.”
“We won’t displease you, Sir,” Maré said softly.
“I’m not concerned about that… but there is one thing that does give me pause – the other thing we need to talk about.”
“What is it, Mr. Breylin?” said Luna.
“It’s the nature of your… relationship.”
Maré sat up straight and looked directly at him, surprising Breylin. “We haven’t done anything wrong, Sir.”
Looking between the two of them, he spoke. “I don’t know that you have or haven’t. I simply want to caution the two of you in front of my company. If they see anything inappropriate happen, I’ll become very cross. Maré, have you explained what happens to Luna when I become cross?”
“I understand, Sir.”
“Very good. It’s been very quiet around here, and I’d appreciate it if we could continue to avoid any issues,” he said lightheartedly as he stood up. “Make sure the kitchen is clean before you retire for the night.”
He started to leave but he paused and turned in the doorway. “Good night, girls.” Then he left.
In bed, Maré had her body pressed up against the gentle curves of Luna’s back. In an effort to relax her, she was using the pads of her fingers to lightly smooth the outlines of her ear, neck, shoulder.
“He scares me, Maré.”
“He should. It seems like he’s been okay these past few weeks, but he’s still capable of terrible things.”
Luna rolled over. “Aren’t you scared?”
“Yes, I am, but I’m not going to worry about tomorrow.” She reached down to knead her breast as she spoke. “We have now, my Chroma.”
“I know… but I’m still getting used to this place. And that was the first real taste I’ve had of his dark side.”
“I think I can make you forget about it for a while.” Maré moved over her, first kissing her lips delicately, then beneath her ear, then down the contours of her throat. Downward she traced, finally taking the taut peak of her breast into her mouth. She sucked, drawing as much of it into her mouth as she could while she dragged her tongue around the sensitive areola in slow, easy circles.
“Ahhh… that’s nice, Maré,” she said as she laced her fingers through her hair.
Breylin stood transfixed staring at the vid screen in his bedroom that showed what was going on in the other bedroom. For long minutes he had been unable to stop watching, but now he just couldn’t watch it any more. Reaching over to its lower corner, he stabbed at the button turning the unit off. He slowly angled to the rest of the empty room. Wiping his brow without thinking, he mechanically moved to the bed, then sat down.
He ran his hand through his hair, and tried to figure out what he was feeling… but I’m all confused. This isn’t my bedroom. Where the hell am I?
He shook himself. Reaching onto the bed behind him, he spoke with a muddled voice. “Riss, help me. I don’t know what’s happening…”
When his wife didn’t answer he turned and saw that the bed was empty, and still made up. He was all alone. What the hell is going on around here? “Riss, dammit, where are you…?”
Then the horror came back to him, and he remembered where Riss was.
Forgetting about the girls, Breylin’s mind began to retreat as he rolled onto his side and protectively curled into a ball. His last thought before the darkness took his was Who the hell is crying like that? I hope they’ll be okay…
The next morning, Breylin’s confusion of the night before was a distant memory that he was only partially aware of. What remained real to him was the bitter loss of Riss being gone. He had forgotten how helpless it had made him feel for a time, but then he’d remembered it all at once. Now that tired feeling of uselessness had returned to sit heavily on his shoulders, giving him the sense that once again he was unable to stop the train of consequences.
The other thing that remained with him was the sight of the girls engaged in sex. He had very mixed feelings about that.
He understood at an intellectual level that Maré and Luna weren’t sisters, or even human. More importantly, they weren’t those he had called daughter, the ones he and Riss had taken on camping trips and listened to music with in the living room. These two hadn’t drawn crude pictures of the sunset. They were also far less innocent.
But they looked a lot like his daughters, and that’s what was crawling around under his skin. Their lovemaking had been darkly erotic.
At a quarter after 5, he found himself hesitating before their door with his hand on the latch. He knew he wouldn’t find them fooling around, but seeing them in their bed with his own eyes would make it more difficult to detach from what he had witnessed the night before. Uneasily, he wondered how Riss would have handled this.
Shaking himself out of such foolish notions, he scowled and jerked the handle. Inside, he found them asleep in each other’s arms, naked but covered with a sheet. “Girls,” he said a bit less harshly than he had intended, “it’s nearly five thirty. Time to get up and get started.” As they began to stir, he turned and retreated, telling himself that he wasn’t rushing to avoid seeing their slender, bare frames.
Normally he would let the girls get his things around for the day, but he was interested in getting out of there once he said the things he intended to. He had already packed the food for the day and was pouring his coffee into a portable carafe when the girls came into the kitchen.
“Okay, so here’s the deal,” he said as he brushed his hands off into the sink. “This place is to be spotless when I get home.”
“Yes, Mr. Breylin. Everything will be perfect,” said Maré.
“Okay…” He wiped his face. “Sit down, the both of you, for a minute.”
Uncertain what was going on, they sat at the table. Maré looked at him, while Luna looked at her with a question on her face. Maré must have felt her gaze on her; without looking at Luna she reached across and took her hand and squeezed.
He sipped his coffee as he leaned against the kitchen counter and nervously considered how to begin. Looking at the ceiling and then the floor, anywhere but towards them, he spoke. “I’ve been thinking… about how this house has been for a long time.”
He could feel both of them looking at him now as sweat began to dampen his armpits. “Sometimes I’m… confused. I speak as if my wife was still here.” As he paused he had to step on some unpleasant feelings that were trying to ooze their way up to the surface. When he had himself more under control, he continued. “Sometimes, I even get a little… belligerent, hurtful.”
“Plea
se, Mr. Breylin,” said Maré as she started to rise. “We don’t want you to become upset over it.”
He motioned for her to sit down, and she slowly complied.
“You mean cross, don’t you Maré? No, don’t answer. Look.” He wiped his face again. “It’s best you just let me get it out. This is hard enough.”
He raked his fingers through his hair and sat down opposite them. “There was a time here when my wife and I had a pair of girls just like the two of you. Maré and Luna.” His tone continue to soften as he spoke. “We called them our daughters, and they called us Mom and Dad.”
Luna was clearly studying him across the table, hanging on his words. Maré just goggled at him. He’d never opened up nearly this much before.
“It was a long time ago, before… before my wife died. It may seem hard to believe but we were a family.” He wet his throat with a slug of coffee while he let that sink in.
“I’ve seen the two of you together, and I guess I’ve had trouble accepting that you two could love… but I’ve been wrong. I know that you do, now. I’d like there to be love in this house again.”
They looked at each other. The small smile on Luna’s face was tender, but she raised her eyebrows in silent question. Maré replied with a tiny shrug. “We do love each other, Sir,” she stated. “But we’re not sure what you mean.”
“Ah. I’d like it if we could put the past behind us and maybe we could try to be a family again.”
They just looked at him. The only sound in the room came from the wind sighing around the house.
“Do you think you could… I don’t know, think of me as a father?”
Maré let a short laugh escape before she could clamp a hand over her mouth. “Forgive me, Mr. Breylin.”
