MOAB � Mother Of All Boxsets

by George Saoulidis

  “I told you that is unlikely.”

  “Okay, whatever. We get back, examine the data, relay them back to Earth so they can come live in this sweet piece of land in a hundred years. Cool. That’s the good news. What are the bad news.”

  Silence.

  “Luna?”

  “We are one engine down. No, before you say it, you can’t do the repairs. I’ve run the sims. The only plausible scenario, is to high-tail it back to the fleet with a slingshot around the gas giant in this solar system.”

  Ash shrugged. “Okay, so? Do it.”

  “My servers are fried. I’ll have to shut down, program minor processes to run life-support and the various ship operations.”

  Ash frowned. “What does that mean? Are you damaged, are you OK?”

  “I’ll be fine, but I can’t run the ship for two years. It will collapse, my electronics have been damaged by the ionized gas. And we still have to get through it once more to get back.”

  “Wait, will all ships sustain that damage passing through?”

  “I guess one of the Frostips could power through with ease. It will barely feel it with some advance hardening. But I’m not one. I’m just a scout.”

  Ash touched the controls tenderly. “You’re my scout.”

  Luna didn’t reply with her usual snark. Instead, she was dead serious. “Ash, the scenario is this. I power down, leave a rudimentary autopilot running. You take the ship, through the interplanetary cloud, towards the gas giant. Execute the slingshot, it’s all automated. Then a two year dash to catch up with the fleet.”

  “Two years? Not four?”

  “I’ll be… You will be taking us at fractional S.O.L.”

  “Is that the thing I never get? The time thing?”

  “Correct. The time dilation will be significant, it will be a relative two-year journey for you, and a sixty year journey for the fleet.”

  Ash shook his head and stood up. “What?” he spat.

  “I am sorry, it is the only plausible scenario. The ship has sustained too much damage and will not be able to take you safely the long way around.”

  “Fuck that scenario! Run the sims again!”

  “Don’t you think I have?” Luna said bitterly. “It is the only way to preserve both this precious information and you. Those are my priorities.”

  “And everybody will be gone for me? That is how you’ll save me? My mom, my friends, everyone I know? Don’t you dare even suggest it.”

  “I’m sorry Ash, it has already been set in motion.”

  “What?” Ash said and punched a panel. “Stop it. I forbid you. It’s the Second Law of Fucking Holy Asimov. Do As I Tell You.”

  “I’m terribly sorry Ash, I cannot do that. I need to keep you safe, I don’t have to obey you in this case.”

  “Fuck that!” Ash said and sat on the pilot seat. He hit the manual button and grabbed the controls. His eyes widened. “Why don’t I have manual? This is an override!”

  “I’m sorry Ash. For what it’s worth, you will regain control back on the rendezvous with the fleet. You will have to land the ship yourself, I will be inactive. I’m counting on you, Ash. We all are.”

  “Fuck that!” Ash said and he was hysterical. “Stop it, now!”

  “I hope you forgive me one day Ash. Goodbye,” Luna said, and it was the last reply.

  “Fuck! You Lunatic, give me control. Stop, I order you. Stop. Don’t do that to me. Stop. Luna please, please, stop. Luna. YOU FUCKING BITCH! You heartless bitch! I didn’t even say goodbye to all of them…”

  Ash screamed and pulled on the steering. He slammed the manual override, opened panels and ripped out wires. Nothing. No reply.

  The ship weathered through the ionized cloud and reached the gas giant after a few weeks. Ash screamed at Luna at the top of his lungs until his throat caught and he could only wheeze. He passed out, then woke up again, cursed Luna, then passed out again. The view of the massive gas giant filled his whole world. The scout ship executed a perfect slingshot maneuver as the brownish red clouds rolled by in glorious clarity.

  “Webb 412 b,” wheezed Ash to himself, reading the monitors. “Four times our Jupiter’s size. Superfuckingmassive gravity well. Which will rip out your life, shit on it and feed it back to you. Oh, look at that, what glorious weather patterns,” he mocked.

  Then one day, the slingshot was complete and he was planted in his seat by the acceleration. And so he traveled, all alone, for two years, back to a fleet he would no longer recognize.

  Chapter 18: Gen 7

  Regarding the deadly radiation on Frostip 5

  Tags: Generation 7, Frostip 5, Radiation, Tits.

  Report compiled by e-person Knox.

  Hoo-boy! Or rather, hoo-girl, since there are no boys left. Scrubbing is proceeding as planned. Non-essential parts have been replaced, I’ve been constructing a CO2 based mini-climate to help remove a few extra rads over the years. And with no hydroponics around, don’t expect to be taking long breaths. Needless to say, that there is no oxygen here. No ma’am, if the radiation won’t kill you, the air will.

  You are advised to stay far, far away from Frostip 5. I’ve been working my servos off for the last fifteen years, practically non-stop. Rad levels have fallen 32.5%, so we have made significant progress. But, even with the most optimistic simulations, there will be at least fifty more years before the ship becomes habitable again.

  That is, if you wanna sit around with lead shields over your genitals. Yes. Radiation is very bad for you ladies and your reproductive organs. Monsters might be born out of exposure to rads, even if they are low. We don’t want that now, do we?

  No we don’t.

  According to the Zeroth law, I am obliged to keep the quarantine intact and prohibit any and all access to the irradiated ship.

  I repeat, if you step foot in there, you are going to give birth to little monsters. Not metaphorical ones, like the tiny whiny freaks you are birthing now. Real ones.

  Also, there is increased chance of breast cancer. But those are long term effects.

  The short-term one is Ptosis.

  It is a fancy Greek word for sagging tits. If you step foot in here, your tits will sag and kiss the floor.

  Ptosis. Remember that. Keep out.

  Your friendly tit protector,

  Knox

  Chapter 19: Gen 7

  “Mom, what was it like back then? Living with men, I mean?” Dot asked and strapped herself down.

  “Well, it wasn’t that much different. But in some ways it was,” Sue said and checked her daughter’s six-point belt harness.

  “That doesn’t really mean anything.”

  Sue smiled. “No, I guess it doesn’t. Let me explain what I mean. You see, men are noisy, bumbling around, picking fights all the time. Their ratio of estrogen to testosterone is heavy on the latter, you see. That makes them territorial.”

  “I’m not asking for a thesis lecture mom. I’m asking what it was like.”

  Doctor Sue stopped and thought about it for a moment.

  “Men are… Brash. They fart and belch at the most inappropriate times.”

  Dot laughed.

  A woman announced on the PA, “Nuclear dash in five minutes. I repeat, nuclear dash in five minutes. Secure all gear and belongings and strap yourselves at the nearest safety seat.”

  “They do! And they don’t get the simplest things, I mean, you keep sending signals, clear as day and they just don’t get them, they think you’re hungry or something.”

  “Are they dumb?”

  “No honey. People come in all flavors, being smart or dumb does not depend on sex or race. No, men just think of different things.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, back on Earth it was cars and women mostly. I guess here, it’s ranks and women.”

  “So they do think about us?”

  “Yeah, but for our nether regions mostly. Not all of them of course, some are very nice… And kind, and thoughtful, and romantic…
” Sue seemed to get lost in a memory, smiling bitterly.

  Dot hmmmed and thought about that.

  “Frostip fleet bundling in one minute. I repeat, Frostip fleet bundling in one minute. Prepare for contact.”

  “So do men just want pussy? Like Ivy, but the other way around?”

  “Dot! Don’t talk like that.”

  “You swear all the time!”

  “And that’s a terrible thing to do. Yes, it is a bit like in Ivy’s case, to be honest. Where is she now by the way?”

  “She’s off to the shop. Suppose she’s strapped down there, she knows the drill,” Dot shrugged. “Mom, are men useless?”

  Sue snorted. “That’s what Una likes to preach. No, they aren’t useless. Some are useless and lazy, some are very skilled and intelligent. Just like all people.”

  The ship clanged, a deep sound that reverberated across it’s length. The clasps locked into place, and they could see the other Frostips on the monitor, all bundled up now as one.

  “But mom, we don’t need them anymore, right? All we need are the Eves and the spermbanks.”

  Sue shook her head. “It’s not like that. Nature has made two sexes for us, so we each need the other to survive. What we’ve done here is…” She looked for the right word. “A heresy. A crime towards the sanctity of nature.”

  “Nuclear pellet launched. Blast in two minutes. Secure all gear and belongings immediately and strap yourself at the nearest safety seat.”

  “Why did we do it then?”

  “Because circumstances forced us to. It was the right call, but not the right thing to do.”

  “Mom, you like men right?”

  Sue sighed, “I don’t know where you’re going with this, but yes. I do.”

  “Why don’t you make one? Have one born, I mean?”

  “First of all, he’d be even younger than you. I’d need one my age at least. Secondly, Una doesn’t allow it. She knows I don’t support her. She only lets me walk free because of my invaluable expertise.”

  “You’re also an Eve, mom. That means you are special, blessed by Luna.”

  “No honey. It simply means I’m fit and fertile,” Sue sighed. “I just happen to be in the right database.”

  “Nuclear pellet firing in… Ten.”

  Dot and her mother straightened their backs and held each other’s hand tight. “You had one right? A man? Did he love you?”

  “Yes. Yes he did.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “Three…”

  “Una killed him.”

  “Oh…”

  “One. Fire.”

  The nuclear blast shook the entirety of the bundled ships. The nuclear shield at the rear of the ships caught the blast and propelled them forward at immense acceleration, to meet a red dwarf-star.

  Chapter 20: Gen 4

  Dot stormed out of her room, grabbed a bite and said goodmorning to her moms.

  “Hey! Sit with us for a minute. I haven’t seen you all week,” Ivy protested, waving the lunch bag she had prepared for Dot.

  Dot sighed and strolled over next to her. She kissed her mom, grabbed the lunch bag and turned to leave. “There.”

  “Uh-uh. Aren’t you forgetting something?” Ivy demanded.

  Ivy spoke to her other mom, Doctor Sue. “Good morning mom, I love you very much, your work is important and I want to become a doctor like you when I get older,” she recited, then hugged Sue.

  “Thank you dear, that means a lot to me.” She kissed Dot and couldn’t contain a smile. “Lot’s of overtime these days, right?”

  “Yeah. Gotta go,” Dot said out of breath and disappeared down the corridor.

  “She’s going there and making out,” Ivy said nodding and chewing breakfast.

  “Come on! Maybe she just likes to work hard, that’s all,” Sue pffted.

  “What else can a teenage girl be doing all those hours?” Ivy shook her head. “It’s my fault, I said you should spend more time with her, and now she’s taking after me. Having her own make-out spot, bringing girls and everything. Despicable.”

  Sue raised an eyebrow, and Ivy stuffed breakfast into her mouth.

  “And then I told Ann, ‘this was last year’s design.’ And every girl held her breath, but I knew they were like, pwned.” Dot leaned back on her chair and took pride in her memory.

  “That ought to teach her,” Ash said on the radio. “Is that why you aren’t friends anymore?”

  “No… It was long before that, we had drifted apart. It was small things, you know.”

  “I guess. Can’t say I do know.”

  “I’m boring you, aren’t I?” Dot said, and wished they had visual communication. But that deep voice of his was good enough as it was.

  “No! Trust me, no. I enjoy hearing about your life. The only person I spoke to in years is Luna, and now she’s fried,” Ash explained. “I hope she’s okay.”

  “Are you lonely?”

  “I think I’m currently the definition of lonely.”

  Dot smiled. She liked his attitude and turns of phrase. Some of them had gone out of fashion, they were too archaic. He sounded to her like one of those classy knights in the movies, with their thees and thous. “So it’s not like you enjoy my company, you’d enjoy any girl’s company right now.”

  Pause.

  “Eh… Yesss… But! I really like your company, and I know that I wouldn’t enjoy another girl’s so much.”

  Dot let him chew on it for a while without talking.

  “Hello? Dot? Not now, damn radio…” Ash banged some equipment.

  “I’m here.”

  “Oh. Nice.”

  “How old are you now?”

  “Feels like fifty. But mission clock says a little over four years, so, nineteen.”

  “And you’ve got no place to go to when you come back?”

  “I dunno, sixty years… Sheesh. Only Ben could explain these things to me. But I guess I had a boy cousin, I might reach out to them. My mother might have had another baby, who knows. As soon as I’m in range to look it up…”

  Silence. “They are all dead, Ash.”

  “I know. I had two years to think it over, and it’s all I’ve been doing on my way back. I know, I’ve come to terms with it. Everybody I knew, is old and gone. My mom, Ben, Dad, heck even the bullies I hated, Gus, Max, they are either senile granpas or buried. I know.”

  Dot bit her fist and shut her eyes. “No Ash, it’s not just the time dilation. All of the men are dead.”

  Chapter 21: Gen 6

  “As we all know, things are dire,” Ben said fixing his glasses.

  He had the attention of all three Captains, one was honorary and only performed civic duties, plus the Admiral.

  “Our Frostips are overcrowded. There are ways to handle the strain on the resources, but diseases have appeared which should have been eliminated completely. Kim, please give us the numbers as of last census.”

  Kim stood up and read from her pad. “7230 organic humans, spread across three Colony Class Ships. We are 20.5% over capacity, since losing habitability of Frostip 5. Four people died of disease in the time it took for us to prepare this report.”

  “Thank you Kim,” Ben said and got a wink in response. “I’m afraid every survivability scenario we’ve run with Luna does not end up well. We are in strict population control by de facto, and we need to seriously consider the option of euthanasia for the elderly.”

  The admiral shuffled in his leather seat at that. He was barely old by Earth standards, but by colonist standards, he was far beyond his prime. Seventy was a ripe old age to die in the harsh conditions of space, and he was a few days away from his birthday. “There is precedent for that,” he added to the speech.

  “Yes indeed sir. Back in Gen 2, when the population was still hardy and the genes hadn’t degraded. It was admirable that many took that option and put the future of the colony above their own,” Ben said. “Unfortunately, this time even that extreme option won’t h
elp that much. The refugees are mostly young and middle-aged, generally healthy. I won’t go into details, but that’s the gist of that.” Ben took a breath, and presented the monitor with open arms. It showed data and visual representations drawn from Luna. “This is Project Thousand Eves.”

  Kim stepped up on cue and said, “The project takes into consideration the fact that we are now able to sustain the population with females alone. The proposed idea is this: We tag one thousand women, chosen by specific parameters by Luna, which are attributed a value of 1.”

  “I’m sorry,” one of the captains asked. “Value of 1?”

  “Yes,” Ben explained. “It’s like in military confrontations, where each type of unit is assigned a value. That way you can determine whether a victory was costly or not, an exchange of forces was equal or not, etc.”

  “Oh yes,” the Captain nodded along with the rest.

  Kim continued. “The value of 1 is the highest, the rest are fractions. We, the people in this room have currently the highest fractional value in Luna’s considerations.” Kim chuckled, “Well, at least all of you are, I guess I have the lowest. In an emergency scenario, Luna will try to save you above myself. It’s not about keeping favorites, or about status. It is simply a cold calculation, of how many of our finite resources should be expended in an individual. In an emergency, if a Captain dies, that means more people are put in danger due to the lack of leadership. If a Captain happens to be injured and incapacitated, his value drops.”

  “Uhh, just for the sake of argument, what is the value we Captains hold right now?” another captain asked hesitantly.

  “0.7,” Kim replied. “I’m currently a 0.4 in Luna’s mind, which is still high in priority, as a young healthy and fertile woman.”

  The captains mumbled in response to that. Ben simply blushed.

  “We are talking about cold calculations. Facts. This brings me to our proposal. We take one thousand-”

  “Why one thousand exactly?” the first captain asked.

  “Good question sir. It is the population that carries enough diversity to ensure the colony, once our descendants reach the planet. This number is from old-Earth research, but it’s still valid. It ensures that the species survives through most major catastrophes. As I was saying, we assign one thousand women the value of 1. That means, that Luna will put their well-being above anyone else.”