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Sutopia

Ch 3, Slife: Space Life

Logan's mind was left spiraling out of control as his brain fought to parse everything he had come to understand over the course of far-too-short-a-time to process it. Rather than sitting idly by, his body did its part to help his mind catch up, and that, namely, was a physical fit; the glass went flying across the room, he knocked over a chair, and he began pulling at his hair, all the while the young man strove to exclaim a half dozen statements but none of them quite managed to come out.

Star was, in fact, his niece; she was hundreds of years old; her body, which was custom designed for her made her look more like a buxom adult video game character than a human; she was responsible for him coming back to life (or being 'rebooted', if he understood the basics of what happened); she wanted to have sex with him. His brain finally kicked into gear, identifying that specific information: his niece, who was a fox woman, had him taken out of storage and put into a replacement body and offered him sex.

With his mind finally snapping closed around that singular, linear thought, his mouth finally worked. "You're my niece, and you want to have sex with me? I'm your uncle!"

The vixen's tail was no longer wagging. "If I'm your niece then yes, it would stand to reason that you're my uncle."

Logan still couldn't get past the other issue. "And you want to have sex with me!"

She let out a soft breath, readjusting her halter so that her breasts were properly stowed. "Past tense... wanted. Now you're making it weird."

"I'M making it weird?! You're like, over six hundred years old! Wouldn't that be weird enough already?"

The Fox offered a demure smirk. "I haven't aged in centuries, Logan... time stops having meaning after a few hundred years. Besides... both our bodies are less than a week old, so I'd say that chronological scaling is not a reliable way to--"

The young man wasn't about to let her confuse the situation. "And you're my NIECE! Sex between us shouldn't even come up!"

Star smoothed out her fur and calmly placed her glass into the sink. "It's that 22nd century code of ethics-- so outdated. You're still thinking like stuff like that matters."

The young man stared at her incredulously. "Of COURSE it matters!"

She leveled a gaze at him, folding her arms across her chest; he didn't miss the way it elevated her cleviage and he hated himself for noticing. Fortunately she spoke, which helped distract him. "Okay... why does it matter?"

Was he hearing what he thought he was hearing? "Because we're FAMILY!"

Star made a casually flippant dismissive gesture. "Okay... so that means we already have a rapport and a shared history and, presumably some degree of trust. That's a bad thing how, exactly?"

Logan had trouble figuring out if she was toying with him or if, in all of her many centuries alive she didn't realize why sex with a family member was wrong. "Well-- I-- you people have such advanced genetics that you don't understand something as simple as the problems with imbreeding?"

She remained impassive, except for a flick of an ear. "It's actually INbreeding, not imbreeding, Logan."

The semantics was enough to make him want to grind his teeth. "WHATEVER! And the thought of that doesn't bother you at all?"

Star shifted her weight, resting most of it on her left leg as she put her right paw on her hip. "If it were 'breeding' then yes, that would be a problem... but, like I said before, I was talking about SEX."

Logan was particularly proud of how quickly his brain came up with what he felt was a very smart response. "That's why it's called SEXUAL reproduction-- you have sex, and then you have a kid."

The Fox woman rolled her eyes. "They had birth control methods in the 22nd century... do you REALLY think that they haven't improved since then?"

He wanted to argue the point further but his mind had already given up and jumped onto another objection. "What about the mystery of it all? When you're too familiar with someone things can get... kinda... wonky."

After the words left his mouth he realized just how bad of an argument it was and he even thought of the same response as Star spoke it. "We're family, but practically strangers, Logan. I wouldn't call us 'familiar'."

Immediately abandoning that failed objection he jumped to a fresh one. "What about social stigma? Do you mean to tell me that people don't get weird looks if they have sex with members of the same family?"

Star, by all appearances, seemed to have grown bored with his objections and he watched as she motioned to the glass that had broken when he'd thrown it. Those same strange little drones that had put together the ill-planned fountain in the living room emerged from the walls and began cleaning up the shards. As they worked, the Fox looked back to him. "My last girlfriend got really hot and bothered eating me out while her dad fucked her from behind... I had a boyfriend who liked to have sex with me while his brother tongued his ass. My vac-suit instructor is in a monogamous sexual relationship with his sister. No, Logan... I don't think people care all that much."

He couldn't tell if she was making it up or not, but the casual way in which she presented the details as if she were discussing what coworkers had for lunch the prior day was eerie. "And... and they aren't worried at ALL about the possibility of a pregnancy or whatever from that kinda thing?"

The vixen leveled her gaze at Logan, an obvious air of exasperation written clearly on her muzzle. "Logan... modern science has advanced gene editing techniques that weren't even considered possible in the 22nd century. Aside from the fact that trans-human reproductive capabilities have to be actively turned on rather than inhibited, even IF family members wanted to conceive a child they would be able to do so in a clinical environment where all undesirable genetic material would be edited out."

There was a lot of information in Star's indignant explanation but the one thing that actually caused Logan to pause was her middle comment. "Wait... what do you mean 'actively turned on'?"

The Fox woman leaned against the counter, some of her 'so tired of this shit' air disbursing. "In the early 23rd century we found out how to edit the process of spermatogenesis in males and oogenesis in females. Now, rather than all of trans-humanity being fertile all the time, we get to actively make that choice."

Was Logan hearing what he thought he was hearing? "So... everyone's sterile? Nobody can have kids naturally?"

She placed her paw on her face, rubbing the bridge of her muzzle. "No... it's more like a computer system, Logan. In order to start a report you have to open a writing program. Without a writing program booted up you won't get very far writing a report. If we want to have children then both consenting partners need to 'boot up' their respective reproductive 'programs'."

The young man couldn't help himself. "Wow... sounds romantic."

Righting herself by pushing off of the counter, Star walked past him and out of the kitchen. "I think you need a little time to settle in. You'll have a lot of your questions answered in class tomorrow. We can talk later."

Something about her dismissal sounded like he was being blown off. It kinda bothered him. "I'll... I'll just take the time to process then. I'll see you later, I guess?"

She paused, glancing back at him from the doorway, feigning at being flustered. "Sure... it's a date. But not like, a DATE date... more like a planned meeting... you know... so you don't start worrying about me being your niece or anything."

Once Logan was alone in what looked, felt, and even SMELLED like his parents' house he felt a little more at ease. Walking through the familiar area everything seemed to be in place, just like he remembered it. It wasn't until he got down to his bedroom that he realized that, like many other things, that impression was just an illusion: drones emerged from the wall just in time to rapidly fabricate an errant piece of discarded clothing in the corner. Logan remembered tossing it there the morning he was set to go out to the clinic, and he was able to see it created before his very eyes to complete his surroundings.

He took a seat on the old armchair his dad helped him move into his room when his parents got a fresh one for the living room. Logan ran his hand across the left arm rest; it was threadbare, and had the off-red stain from where he'd spilled spaghetti sauce on it three years past-- he paused, reminding himself that it was several hundred years past at that point. Sighing, his mind wandered further down that direction and that only made things worse: he was in the future, and his present was far in the past.

Logan had to accept that everything he knew was gone. He was ancient, and everything he was used to had changed. His parents were dead; his siblings were dead; their children and their children's children were probably dead as well. People related to him that he'd never even met were gone. The only member of his family left was his niece, and she was the one responsible for him returning to life. Was he even really alive? The questions kept coming and he couldn't get them to stop. "Well sitting here isn't helping."

With that realization, Logan stood up, gathered his jacket (which he'd taken with him to the clinic, and yet it was right where it was that morning before he left) and headed for the front door. It wasn't really a front door, he realized; it was a facsimile-- some kind of close approximation put together from memories he had. Nothing in the house was real, and that probably included him. He was so focused on those thoughts that he bumped his knee on the door frame as he made his way out. "OW! Fuck! Real enough to hurt, at least... damn it all."

Stepping back out into the sterile halls, Logan stopped when his eyes gazed out into the blackness beyond the windows several feet down the hall; the space beyond was breathtaking, exhilarating and also frightening. He found himself staring at the deep blackness, occasionally peering as far as he could in any of multiple directions trying to see if he could spot the Earth. In the end, he gave up, remembering that Star had taken him on a long walk along a curved corridor, which meant he probably no longer had a clear view of it. Not until the space station rotated.

That thought caused him to freeze in place. He was on a space station, at least, he was pretty sure he was. Maybe he was on a space ship? No, he reasoned, why would people have some kind of scientific clinic on a mobile ship? All the logistics would be a nightmare. It would be easier to resupply though, wouldn't it? All of the conflicting thoughts in his mind continued to assail him and he couldn't find a moment's peace from his brain's incessant questions. He was in space! ...and yet there seemed to be gravity. Didn't that require some kind of centrifugal motion? Or gravity generators? How did gravity generators even work?

Those thoughts and more continued to assail him as he meandered his way down the hallway. Rather than return from the direction he'd originally come, Logan instead elected to continue onward; if the corridor really was one big circle eventually he'd get back to the clinic and, after that, back to his assigned room. It wasn't actually a room, he reminded himself: it was a huge open space that could build his parent's house with a mental command. He stopped, grabbing hold of either side of his head, willing his brain to just shut up just let him stick with just one thought without interrupting him.

It was an issue he had to deal with ever since primary school but it wasn't something he'd had to face since his failed attempt at college. Any time he was confused or overloaded his mind seemed to fracture and do nothing but trip him up and get in his way. "Ugh... is THIS what I have to look forward to all week? Can't they just upload everything I need to know into my head?"

Sighing, Logan ultimately came to the realization that walking in a giant circle was just boring enough that he wouldn't be able to give his brain a way to focus on just one thing and he began alternating his attention with gazing out of the windows on the right side of the hall and looking at each of the numerous doors on the left-hand side. After almost an hour of meandering he finally caught sight of something different: it appeared to be an elevator. Promising to memorize the floor he was on, the young man pressed the call button and waited several seconds for the elevator to arrive.

He stepped in when the door opened and he was immediately distracted from his own problems by what he saw: a woman somewhere in her late twenties or early thirties was bent over near the back of the elevator, hands gripping the railing while on her knees. Astride her was some kind of large, four-legged dog, perhaps an Akita or a Shepherd or Malamute; Logan didn't know those big fluffy dog breeds, but he didn't need to know the breed to know what it was doing to her. Hips jack-hammering forward, the dog was going to town on the woman, who only moaned happily in response.

Struck dumb by walking in on what he saw in a place he hardly expected to encounter it (as if there were a place he'd EVER expect it), Logan stood in the hall without stepping into the elevator. He was even more surprised when the dog slowly rotated his head to look back at him. "Going down?"

Logan didn't realize the innocence of the question until he'd already blurted out his response to what he first took as an invitation. "NO!"

Grunting, the dog slammed his hips forward and the woman let out a cry of mixed pain and discomfort. From there, he hefted up a leg and rotated around to face the young man, his member stuck in the lady he'd been rutting. The Dog spoke clearly and cleanly, his muzzle moving with surprising alacrity and Logan realized he sounded European. "Whatever. If you're not gonna use the lift then don't press the button. Now... if you're planning on continuing to stare then you should either join in or buy an X-sim and make it meaningful, ya get me?"

Logan, put on the spot, quickly took a step back from the elevator. Rolling his eyes, the dog flexed his shoulders and some kind of robotic crane extended from the animal's back. The young man realized that the appendage terminated in a hand which, before Logan's eyes, reached out and pressed a button; the elevator closed, leaving him alone in the hallway once again. Speaking to the door he said simply "Guess I should go up?"

Reaching out, the young man paused before his finger hit the call button; it lingered there for several seconds as he contemplated what he might encounter the next time the doors opened. Swallowing his apprehension, Logan pressed it firmly and took a step back. Calming himself with measured breathing, he was, nevertheless surprised when someone walking by him spoke up. "Hello there, Logan! Welcome to 7-B!"

Looking back at the woman, Logan had absolutely no idea who she was. "Um... hi?"

Not stopping to talk, she continued down the corridor without another word. He wanted to contemplate the strange interaction but the door to the elevator opened up again. Steeling himself for the worst, he was relieved to see that there were three relatively normal people on it, and all of them were clothed. Letting out a sigh of relief, Logan stepped inside and turned back around to look at the control console to see his floor options; there were only three buttons and all of them were blank. He spoke out to nobody specifically. "What the heck?"

The teenage girl behind him spoke up. "Oh... first time in a turbo lift, right Logan? Where did you want to go?"

A woman perhaps ten years the teen's senior with similar features laid a hand on the girl. "Mariah, give Mr. Bradshaw some space please."

"K, mom. Sorry, Logan."

The older woman tapped the teen's shoulder. "Manners, young lady. He's 'Mr Bradshaw' unless he says it's okay to call him by his first name."

The teen, despite living hundreds of years after Logan's time, still apparently had the capacity to have a rebellious streak. "Mom... he's, like... less than ten years older than me... I think it's fine if--"

"He's older than *I* am, Mariah. Address him as Mr. Bradshaw, please."

Logan really didn't have any social compass for the discussion. Slowly backing out of the elevator he didn't know how to operate before being stuck in there with the woman who looked more like the teen's sister than mother, he offered a sheepish smile as he held up a hand. "It's okay... I'll take the next one, thanks."

As the doors closed, Mariah made an overt show of obeying her mother. "Goodbye, MISTER BRADSHAW!"

Staring at the closed door for the third time, Logan closed his eyes for a moment, seeking to get his breathing back under control. His brain still wasn't about to behave, and another unbidden thought came up to his attention. "That dog asked if I was going down... there isn't even supposed to be a 'down' in space."

He was caught unaware by a voice behind him. "Actually, in space, like many things based on perception, 'down' is a matter of perspective."

Too mentally and emotionally exhausted to jump at that point, Logan slowly turned around, wondering if he'd see some kind of gorgeous male model, or maybe a human-sized toucan, or perhaps a squid dripping some kind of slimey goo. He was entirely underwhelmed (thankfully so) when he set eyes upon a rather unspectacular dark-skinned man of average build with short, curly hair. The man, maybe a handful of years older than Logan, offered a friendly smile. "Hi, Logan. Still having trouble taking it all in, huh?"

Rather than answer the stranger's question he asked one of his own. "How come all of you know my name? Is there, like, some kind of community announcement when someone is pulled out of their own time and into this one?"

The man's laughter was easy and casual, neither forced nor for show; Logan honestly didn't feel like what he said was all that funny, but apparently the stranger did. The man recovered quickly but the smile remained. "No, and I'm pretty sure you know that's not EXACTLY what happened, but I guess it doesn't pay to nitpick right now. No, Logan... people here at 7-B-- well... at pretty much ALL habs now that I think about it-- our metanet connections have ID protocols. It's a little like the drivers licenses and passports of the 22nd century, only a lot harder to leave in your other pair of pants."

It took a second for Logan to realize that the man had just told a joke. The young man wasn't sure if it was funny, but he pushed forward regardless. "So... you... know who I am because of the implant thing?"

Still smiling, the stranger nodded. "Yep... and you can do the same. No strangers here... or anywhere for that matter."

Logan realized it was rude, but he didn't have it in him to be polite at that point. "Even if you know who I am I don't know who you are."

The man's smile calmed, but he still had an eerie sense of encouraging support to him-- he practically exuded it. "Try accessing the information... your occular enhancements should be able to provide you everything you need."

Recalling suddenly what he'd seen when he first found himself in the new world around him, Logan jumped in surprise when a name appeared above the man's head, just as it had with the android who had spoken with him when he awoke in the clinic. "Peter Noah?"

The black man smiled, holding out a hand. "That's me. Nice to meet you, Logan... but you can call me Pete."

The young man jumped a second time when the name above his companion changed to read PETE. "It... it just changed."

Pete remained where he was, hand still outstretched. "Mm-hmm. Your implant is able to process information at the same time as you do. You can still pull up all my details, but for ease of use it's just reminding you how I introduced myself."

Staring down at Pete's hand, Logan realized he should have shaken it and, since the reflex hadn't kicked in, he did so with purpose, then second guessed how long he should have maintained it. Pulling his hand back after four (or perhaps five) firm shakes, he wiped it off on his jeans. "When I was in the lab that robot's name appeared above him without me having to do anything... why is it different with others?"

Motioning to the side of the corridor, Pete stepped away from the elevator doors and leaned against the handrail separating the walkway from the windows. "Well, I assume TIBOR introduced itself electronically and your HUD registered it as a courtesy. The implant is designed to make things easier... you don't have to think so hard about it, Logan."

The moments of relative calm were enough for Logan to find his footing mentally and emotionally, and also helped him focus. Regarding Pete, the young man asked "You seem pretty... normal. Were you pulled out of storage too?"

Pete repeated his earlier heartfelt laughter, leaning against the guardrail so he could practically double over. It took nearly a moment for him to recover and, once he did, Logan was in for quite a shock: Pete was a pre-war scholar, focusing on understanding Earth before the war that 'broke' it. Further surprising him, Pete revealed that he understood a lot of Logan's confusion; like Logan, Pete only had as much lived experience as his body looked: he was 32 years 7 months and 19 days old. Logan couldn't help himself. "You don't look a day over 32 years and 6 months."

Laughing again, Pete took a moment to compose himself. "You have an amazing sense of humor, Logan... don't lose it."

Looking around, the young man let out an exasperated sigh. "Dealing with all of this stuff, I'm afraid it's too late-- I 'lost it' hours ago."

Pete took a step closer and rested a hand on Logan's shoulder; it was the first time since awakening that he actually took any degree of comfort from personal contact. The man gave him a gentle squeeze. "Hey... I get what you're going through... not all of it, seeing as you've been through a Corpus Verto and I'm still in my first body, but the kind of social shock you're dealing with-- you're not alone in that, okay?"

Logan shrugged. "Yeah... I guess others get awakened from the past, right? Enough of them that people stop and point me out in the hallway."

The black man slowly withdrew his hand. "People here don't really understand what you're going through. It takes awhile to adjust when making the transition between humanity and trans-humanity."

The young man couldn't help himself. "Says the guy who was... what? Born into it?"

Pete offered an easy smile. "Actually, almost 1000 births yearly are natural births. My parents had me naturally-- flaws and all. I joined transhumanity at 13 when I got my uplink... same as you got today after the Virto."

There was something about that personal information and earnest explanation that helped Logan feel just a little more at-ease. He ultimately followed Pete down the hall to another lift that took them to a large, softly-lit curcular room with many quiet, out-of-the-way booths tucked back into various sections of its curved walls. According to his unofficial tour guide, it was a social area (despite how quiet it looked). Pete said that he really enjoyed visiting during GMT-4, and that brought up an entirely different discussion on how time was kept in space.

That was when Pete dropped the bomb. "We're not really in space."

Pointing to one of the windows across the room, Logan questioned that news. "I can see space... and stars... and the frickin' Earth. How could we NOT be in space? Is this some kind of holographic facility or something, or is--?"

Pete interrupted him. "Well... okay... technically we ARE in space. Everything is IN space, but we're not free floating, Logan."

Logan shot him a look. "Duh. We're in orbit around the Earth... right?"

His 'tour guide' smiled. "I guess you could say that... why don't you go get up close to one of the windows and look down."

The young man did as requested. Despite the fact that the windows were angled slightly upward, when he was able to look down through them he saw a vast, white field of rock marked with craters. It looked surprisingly familiar. "We're on the moon?!"

Pete nodded. "Yes. This is where most of the Corpus Virto is held for Class 1s. It makes it easier to have all of you attend my classes in a single place."

Logan paused. "Your classes?"

The man smiled. "I'm going to be your instructor this week. Star reached out and said she thought you might need some one-on-one time to--"

The young man suddenly didn't feel all that comforted by Pete's presence. "Oh... Star sent you, huh?"

He only somewhat regretted his rude statement.