Paradise Reclaimed

by Raymond Harris

  The problem was that their presence caused unease amongst some people; especially once the implications of Alice’s report were understood. To achieve the kind of population expansion she suggested, the colonists would have to abandon traditional monogamy. The Crickets were arguing for a radical transhumanist vision of human sexuality. It was relentlessly logical but it challenged deeply embedded moral views and it was especially challenging when presented by precocious adolescents. He had tried to find a rational objection but simply could not. He had to agree that it was absolutely essential that the colonists be as genetically fit and diverse as possible, and at every turn the Crickets proved themselves to be highly competent and fully conscious of what they were arguing.

  He came to the uncomfortable conclusion that the resistance to the Crickets was due to a deep-seated suspicion of the highly intelligent, a suspicion based on irrational fears and prejudices, fears and prejudices he himself had faced. People felt threatened by the Crickets. This left him with a stark choice. If the Crickets were in, those who could not accept the Crickets were out.

  This decision troubled him and even though he had wanted to keep his own counsel until he was certain, he was not in control of his unconscious motivations. It was Freja and Li Li who detected his discomfort.

  “You look troubled,” said Freja as she sat opposite him over a lunch meeting to discuss her suggestions for tightening the selection process.

  He tried to look at her calmly but her gentle, open expression made him feel strangely guilty. She tilted her head slightly in recognition of the shift in micro-expressions on his face. She smiled again and waited patiently for him to explain.

  Li Li picked up on the change in mood. “What troubles you Akash?”

  He sighed and tried to make a joke of it. “Can’t hide anything from you can I?”

  Freja shrugged her shoulders. “Your face says it all. You are afraid to say something that you want to.”

  She smiled again. He felt drawn to her, almost hypnotised by blue eyes framed by impossibly platinum-blonde eyebrows. “People have been saying things…”

  “About us?” asked Li Li. “Yes, we know. It’s to be expected.”

  “Expected?”

  “We already know,” said Freja reaching out a hand to reassure him. “It happens all the time. We know we freak people out.”

  “We know you understand,” said Li Li, adopting the same tone as Freja. “It happened to you as a child prodigy. People are fearful of things they don’t understand and we know we have been pushing the boundaries. It’s mostly amongst the support crew; the expeditionary team is more accepting now that they have been enhanced, now that this is open to them too. I’m working on it. Things will change when we are on Eden.”

  “We’ve all seen the looks, heard the whispers. Alice sensed it almost immediately. We tell her she has to learn to be more diplomatic.”

  “Alice?”

  “Alice is very astute but she carries a mutation that predisposes her to ignore certain emotional or social signals. It’s not really a problem. She just doesn’t understand or easily tolerate people’s emotional reactions, especially if they are immature,” said Li Li.

  “But she’s young,” he objected, implying that it was a question of maturity.

  Freja shook her head. “No, it’s not that. Alice has effectively reached cognitive and emotional adulthood. It just that she’s radically postconventional, an arch-rationalist. She won’t change much. The mutation has been marked. We know exactly where it is. We just haven’t found a way to adjust it without affecting her other abilities. It also gives her superior pattern recognition skills. It is who Alice is.”

  He nodded. “But this is what freaks people out, the fact that you talk this way.”

  “We know, especially when it comes to procreation,” said Freja calmly.

  “We just can’t afford the usual process of intellectual and emotional integration. Time is against us,” said Li Li. “The program must be accelerated.”

  “Integration?” he asked, unfamiliar with the term used in this particular context.

  “Yes, we are pushing radical interpersonal cultural change,” said Freja. “It takes people time to process the change. Some will integrate it faster, others will resist. How they adapt depends on their level of intelligence…”

  “Or on certain genetic markers that incline them to ideational conservatism…”

  “If I may say, your psychometrics have missed some critical indicators…” Freja added.

  “I was told it was robust,” he said defensively.

  “Please don’t misunderstand,” said Freja. “It is very good, but every test carries the bias of the people who constructed the test. It is selecting exactly the type of people the designers thought would be needed.”

  “But not the people you would select?” he asked, suddenly realising that they were manipulating him toward their transhumanist agenda.

  “Relax Akash, we are not ganging up on you,” said Freja, immediately reading his expression.

  “You have every right to select who you wish,” added Li Li. “But remember, the composition of the first colonists will determine the nature of the colony itself. If you accidentally select people genetically predisposed toward conservatism then you will get a conservative society.”

  “It is a political decision,” said Freja. “What sort of society do you want? I think that what unsettles people is that we have a very clear idea. We have thought this through. The question is: what do you want?”

  “I haven’t decided,” he said almost apologetically.

  “We know,” said Freja again reaching out to reassure him again. “You are still going through your own process of integration. Perhaps if you talk with Tshering…”

  “Tshering?” he asked, noting a tone of defensive anger in his voice.

  “Yes,” said Freja squeezing his lower arm gently with her hand. “We haven’t mentioned it but it must have crossed your mind. Both of your genomes are strong with a number of beneficial mutations. We would like you to considering fathering several new lines and Tshering to likewise mother at least two.”

  “We think your relationship is strong enough to include others. We do not believe either of you are strictly monogamous, not really. Few people are if given a choice.”

  He was stunned into silence.

  “You know this to be true,” said Freja. “Hasn’t Tshering dropped enough hints already? And perhaps you have not been paying enough attention to your unconscious. Why did you choose Bhutan, if not for its unique poly traditions?” She released her grip and let her hand stroke his arm gently as she returned it to her lap. “I must admit I laughed when I saw the traditional phallus painted on the house. Well, I thought, this house will surely make me pregnant. It is a joke amongst the Crickets. Ejaculating penises everywhere. We all have traditional carved ones now, for luck.” She smiled seductively. “It was a choice between Prosperous’s genome and yours, but Anaïs got in first, and although we could happily share, it might be too much for him, at least, all at once. But with Tshering’s permission, I would combine our genomes and carry your child. Personally I had planned to wait until I was older, but circumstances have changed rather dramatically.”

  He looked down, suddenly embarrassed. She had just offered herself to him and he realised he was sexually attracted, very attracted. She knew it and was inviting him to look. She was teasing him. No wonder people felt threatened by the Crickets. And yet she had been right all along. From the first moment he had met her he had been subliminally attracted. Of course it was taboo but that didn’t seem to concern them in the least. It was clear they had no regard for conventional morality.

  He stood and made excuses to leave. He knew that if he stayed he would embarrass himself. He also knew that both Freja and Li Li would simply be amused. It seemed that the Crickets had transcended sexual shame altogether.

  He finally understood just how much he had been in denial a few days late
r. Tshering’s brother’s monastery was hosting a traditional cham dance and Tshering had invited the team and the Crickets. He thought nothing of it and considered it a well-deserved break. They toured the monastery and met Tshering’s brother who gave them a traditional blessing, then they gathered with the crowds in the broad, paved courtyard. The horns blared and the cymbals and percussion clashed and brightly clad dancers began to spin and twirl, led by the traditional fool, the red-masked atsara. Somehow he had never really noticed the comical antics of the atsara before, perhaps because he had been too confused by the commotion, or because he had been distracted by his thoughts. But now he could not ignore the atsara who had singled them out for special attention and was waving his traditional giant wooden phallus at them. Pema was giggling with glee and the others were laughing and clapping. It was then he noticed the seating arrangements. The female Crickets had gathered around Tshering, and Freja was sitting next to her with Pema on her lap. He blinked with the realisation that the Crickets had obviously grown quite close to Tshering. Suddenly he saw it clearly. They obviously regarded Pema as one of them, a Cricket. Freja sensed his gaze and turned to meet it. Her eyes penetrated his defences and a chill ran up his spine. Tshering turned and looked at him with a gentle smile. The atsara tumbled away.

  That night he made love to Tshering and afterwards, as they rested in each other’s arms, she spoke softly and tenderly.

  “I understand husband, that Freja and Li Li have spoken to you.”

  He nodded.

  “If it does not upset you, I grant permission.”

  He remained still, barely breathing, not sure of what he had just heard.

  “I will remain your wife. They will be your consorts. They have explained it to me. This will benefit all humans. The children will be like bodhisattvas. All the signs are auspicious. The atsara gave his blessing. It is dharmic.”

  He knew that Tshering would not say these things if she had not thought about it seriously and meditated on it, seeking guidance from the Buddhist deities.

  “And you?”

  “With your permission… In a few years… I always thought the old ways had their virtues. You will not be jealous?”

  “Perhaps. Will you?”

  She turned and snuggled in close to him. “No. Husband I have a secret confession.”

  “And what is that?”

  “When I was younger I fooled around with other girls. It was all harmless play but I rather liked it and often initiated it. The desire has returned.”

  He stroked her hair. He found he was not shocked. “Who?”

  “Do not consider me wicked, but I like them all. I would invite them all into our bed.”

  “And do they know this about you?”

  “Yes, they sensed it immediately.”

  “So, they have seduced us both?”

  “Yes, with our unconscious participation.”

  “Unconscious?”

  “Yes, at some level we signalled our willingness. They would not have pursued the matter otherwise. I trust them. Whatever transpires they are Pema’s future – and this one’s,” she said stroking her stomach.

  60

  Biyu

  She was weaving in and out of the trees, pushing the dart to its limits, Torv hot on her tail. She liked the intuitive design of the dart, the way it moulded into her body and the way the controls acted as natural extensions of her limbs: her hands slipping into glove-like slots and reacting to hand and finger movements; her feet in stirrups that reacted to leg pressure to accelerate and decelerate; they way it reacted to a lateral shift in her weight to roll; an arch or forward bend of her back to climb or dive. It was as if she were flying. But there were shortcomings. There was an inconvenient time lag of a few microseconds and it would be better if it were designed for each individual torso rather than a generic average.

  She looked at the screen. Torv was still following her, attempting to get a lock. Torv was good, no doubt about it. She had attempted to lose her by taking her close to trees and cliffs, but she was still there. Then a crazy idea entered her head. She looked quickly behind her. Torv was too close. She stretched her leg and accelerated, looked again and with careful calculation somersaulted off the dart and twisted in the air. Torv was stunned and attempted to avoid a collision, but Biyu had been too quick. As she righted herself her arm grabbed Torv’s armour, pulled her off her dart and they tumbled through the air at high speed. Just as they were about to crash to the ground at a fatal velocity, Biyu’s antigrav counteracted and bought them to a gentle fall. At the last moment she twisted in the air so that Torv landed on her back, unfortunately in a patch of mud. Torv gasped as she was winded with the impact. “Gotcha,” laughed Biyu, holding a blade at her throat.

  “Fuck bitch, you’re crazy,” Torv gasped.

  “And the crazy bitch is the winner.” She leant forward and kissed Torv roughly on the mouth.

  “You could have killed us both,” said Torv as she struggled under Biyu’s weight, catching her breath.

  “Correction. Could have killed you. If I’d have had my blade out I could have decapitated you mid air.”

  “Shit Biyu. What were you thinking? You’re going in to have surgery in a few days. What if you had busted yourself up?”

  Biyu stood and adjusted her armour. She looked at her exposed flesh and felt around for breakages. “A few scratches, that’s all. You are such a pussy Torv.” She extended her hand to help Torv up just as the girls arrived on their darts and settled them on the ground.

  “Wow, we saw…”

  “Amazing…”

  “A new tactical manoeuver…”

  They ran up to Biyu and Torv, their skins oscillating with excitement.

  “You have to teach us acrobatic skills…”

  “Your spatial co-ordination…”

  “Yeah, yeah, I get it. She’s a genius,” spat Torv.

  “Jealous…”

  “Just cause she’s beating you at everything now…”

  “And you’ve got dirt up your crack,” laughed one.

  Torv reached behind her and pulled at a leaf. She looked down the front and saw dirt smeared in the folds of her vulva.

  “Oops,” said Biyu. “Maybe some sort of cunt protection isn’t such a bad idea.”

  One of the girls decided to be helpful and used her hand to help wipe more muck from her arse, using her spit in place of water.

  “It’s okay, leave it,” she said angrily. “I can wipe my own fucking arse.”

  The girls laughed at Torv’s cranky mood.

  Torv sighed. “Okay, have you had your fun? I’ll grant that I did not see that coming and yes, it was brilliant.”

  Biyu nodded with satisfaction. “I’m going to recommend some adjustments. The darts are too slow for my reflexes.”

  “Yes, I noticed that too,” she said squatting so she could feel for any more remnants in the folds of her labia. “Everything has to be tuned to our best pilots.” She pissed into her hand and used the urine to clean the rest of the dirt away. “I need a shower,” she said as she stood.

  “Have to agree with that,” said Biyu.

  The girls giggled and nodded in unison. “You look like you’ve shat yourself.”

  “She almost did,” said Biyu.

  Biyu and Torv summoned their darts and they settled on the ground in front of them.

  “Race you,” yelled Biyu as she jumped on. “Let’s see just how fast these fuckers can go.”

  She forced her dart to climb steeply by arching her back, with a twist she banked and then pushed hard with her legs and the dart accelerated. The girls mounted their darts with whoops and yells. Torv rolled her eyes. She would have to at least come second to save face, so she took her dart into a steep climb, then leant forward to minimise wind resistance and pushed her dart to the limit. She passed the girls who were still nervous of high speed, but Biyu was too hard to catch, skimming above the forest canopy at five-hundred kph, a speed she knew Biyu still thoug
ht was insufficient – she wanted everything to go higher and faster yet still spin, roll and tilt on a nipple.

  The mechs were always nervous as Biyu returned their equipment. It was a mixture of dread and excitement because she always managed to find a design flaw or to damage it in some way. She pushed everything to the limit, including them. This time she surprised them by coming in high, rolling the dart upside down and falling from it to land on her feet, rather than bring it to a complete stop and dismount the normal way, a move she figured would free her hands so that she could dismount with a sword or gun at the ready.

  “Magnus,” said mech Chanthara. “How was the run?” He looked up at the dart as it righted itself and settled on the ground: the scratches, mud and part of a branch lodged in a missile tube, evidence of rough treatment.

  She smiled and he knew what was coming. “Good, but I have some recommendations,” she said as she started to remove her armour with the assistance of a drone.

  “Yes, of course,” he nodded. “May I ask how the branch…”

  She lifted her breastplate and stood before him as naked as a defender, with no visible sign of her rank. He always found this disconcerting because like many he had followed her athletic career and had fantasised about her, and to have her standing within reach, every pore of her skin visible, the smell of her sweat visceral, was almost too much.

  “I was trying to shake Torv and went through a tree.”

  “Sorry, through?”

  She laughed. “Yes, Chanthara. Not around or over, through the canopy. I misjudged the gap by a fraction and collected some foliage. We need to tighten the response time.”

  He wanted to say it wasn’t designed to go through trees but he knew she wouldn’t accept excuses and her authority was absolute. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I’ll write up a full report…”

  At that moment Torv glided in and dismounted in the conventional way. His eyes widened when he saw the state she was in, but her scowl suggested he dared not ask.

  “What took you so long?” teased Biyu.

  Chanthara stood back and pretended he wasn’t listening. Biyu and Torv’s competitiveness was becoming legendary and it was best not to get involved.