“We haven’t isolated the right genes, and that work will take months, if not years,” Peachy replied. “A baby might be faster.”

  “I take it you don’t just want one,” I said, and this time I did glance at Geordie.

  Poor guy. His head was bowed, his chin tucked, and his ears were so red, I figured there might be a real danger they’d set his hair alight.

  “We don’t need to have sex,” he muttered. “They could artificially inseminate.”

  Dayumn. He found this as bad an idea as I did. Peachy looked from me to Geordie, and then spread his hands in appeal.

  “It’s only one child,” he said. “You don’t even have to raise it, or see each other afterwards.”

  At this, Leila cleared her throat, and Peachy rolled his eyes.

  “Fine! You might have to see each other, given how small the colony is, right now, but you needn’t establish a permanent relationship.”

  And that was when the pieces started to fit together.

  “We’re not contracted to you,” I said. “Not a single one of us. You raised part of the stake to get the colony started, but I bet you weren’t the only ones. And I’m betting you never consulted with your partners about what you’d found, or where, did you? What are they going to say if I ask them what they think?”

  “We bought them out.”

  Well, there went that idea. Peachy didn’t give me a chance to recover. He kept on.

  “They didn’t understand why we’d want the place given the level of interdimensional activity, and the loss of comms. They figured the colony was down. We gave them time to try and get in touch, and to investigate the world, but they couldn’t see where the profit was, so we dangled a few juicy territorial rights in front of them, and they jumped at the exchange.”

  My heart sank.

  “So, we’re on our own, then.”

  Peachy tried for a reassuring smile.

  “No, you’ve still got us.”

  “Uh, huh. How come the others didn’t get our signals, and you did?”

  “The others didn’t fly down to the settlement until after we’d moved it, and the rocks block comms signals, just as well as they block scans, or whatever it is the interdimensionals use to find your surface folk. After the first raid took out their primary expeditions, the other companies decided they didn’t need the hassle.”

  “They left us.” It was not a nice conclusion to arrive at, but someone had to say it.

  I figured I might as well extrapolate on it.

  “And then they sold us out.”

  Peachy gave me gentle smile.

  “Something like that.”

  “That doesn’t mean we’re your belongings,” I said. “Each and every one of us should have a contract.”

  “What makes you think they’d be worth the paper they were written on?”

  “Even Halcyon likes to appear above board,” I said, praying it was true, but not letting an ounce of doubt show in my voice, or face.

  “True,” he said, “And the breeding program would work a lot better with willing participants.”

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  I grimaced. I hadn’t thought I was going to get out of this one, but at least they were coming to the table. From the look on Leila’s face, she hadn’t thought to fight. I sure as hell hoped she hadn’t signed anything, yet.

  “You’re set on the breeding program?” I asked, my throat tight.

  “Until we get the genetics sorted,” he said.

  “And the kids will be their own people?” I pressed. “Not company slaves.”

  “No more than anyone else,” he said, a sly smile playing about his lips, and then growing serious. “Fine! The children grow up free citizens. We set up communal care for those whose parents don’t feel they can do the parenting, and for those parents we call into service in space.”

  At this Geordie shifted uneasily beside me. I laid a hand on his thigh, and he stilled.

  “And no one goes into space without testing to make sure they can cope with ship life, right?”

  “Agreed.”

  “And Halcyon makes sure the industries they need operate from this world.”

  He opened his mouth to argue, but I ploughed on.

  “It’s got to be cheaper than shipping the ore off-world, right?”

  “Some of it,” he admitted, “but there’s also shipping the other materials in, that we’ve got to consider.”

  “The interdimensionals aren’t going to let you process it without interference, once they figure out what you’re doing,” I added, “And this world has the largest supply of rock for safeguarding your manufacturing and research facilities until you get the process right. Not to mention the ideas the colonists have been developing in the hopes of attracting investment to this world.”

  “They’ve what?”

  “The colonists. My parents. My teachers. Pretty much anyone who remembers what it was like to live on other worlds, who had hopes of building a future here. They’ve all got ideas for things to bring investors here—and Halcyon’s on the ground, first. We’re all going to need help to get started, and at least your labor force has saved you the cost of building accommodations in the more secure parts.”

  I stopped then. Partly because Peachy was staring at me as though I’d grown an extra head, and partly because I’d run out of things to say. Either way, now seemed like a good place to take a breath.

  “You’re not a lawyer, are you?” he asked.

  “I’ve studied some,” I said. “Results would have to be verified by the institutions that gave us the software, but, yeah, in between guiding, I studied law. Wanted to be useful to the businesses my folk wanted to build.”

  “So you’ve got a handle on IP law?”

  “A bit.”

  “Contractual law?”

  “Some.”

  “We’re still going to need you to contribute to the gene pool.”

  I risked a sideways glance at Geordie. From the look of it, he was pretending he wasn’t there.

  “Sure,” I said, and watched the tips of Geordie’s ears turn red again.

  From there, our conversation turned to contacting the main colony.

  “Get your base contracts in order, first,” I said, when Peachy brought it up, and he looked at me.

  “You want to come work for us?” he said. “We could always use a good lawyer.”

  I raised my eyebrows, and he glared at me.

  “Not the way you’re thinking,” he said. “Halcyon and CHASM too, for that matter, try to avoid the kinds of wrangling you’ve brought up.”

  Well, I just bet they did. Especially, when there was someone to wrangle with.

  “You want me to start a family earlier than I’ve planned,” I said. “That’s going to slow me down in finishing my qualifications, and put a kink in my ability to earn.”

  “We’ll pay you,” he said, and I grabbed that with both hands.

  “Everyone who participates in your genetics program gets paid?” I asked, and his face flushed.

  “Yes.”

  “And you’ll put me through the training I need as part of that?” I pressed, and he glared at me.

  “Fine.”

  “And there’ll be corporate child care and education facilities open to all?”

  “Open to employees.”

  “And their families.”

  “Fine! And their families.”

  In the end Peachy went away and drafted a contract. When he brought it back, we wrangled it some more, and there were more of us to wrangle, because word got round. We ended up shifting negotiations to the main meeting hall, and making a shuttle run for the colony leaders. While we didn’t have the company over a barrel, we knew enough they preferred to negotiate than risk bad feelings on the grounds of their newest, and most lucrative, project.

  I won’t say we all came away happy, but mostly happy wasn’t a bad outcome.

  I’m about a year into studying intergalactic law, working alongside CHASM’s lawyers to learn the trade from their point of view. With the credits I received for the work already done, I’ll be qualified in another four. The CHASM folk are happy with my progress. They think all that effort’s being done to protect their patents, and find ways to legally bind my people to Halcyon’s will, but I think ten years’ abandonment puts their claims at jeopardy, and I think a little compensation is in order, and I don’t mean a breeding bonus, either.

  Not that I’d ever tell them that. But, while, I’m grateful for their protection, and their rescue, I won’t let my people be made into slaves, just as I won’t let them fall into the hands of a bunch of interdimensionals who think humans have no more value than a piece of coal.

  We might be a hell of a lot safer than we were, but now is not the time to relax; now, is the time to fight, to make sure we leave a legacy that our children can live with, without wondering what the hell their parents were thinking. And, as for genetics, well, I’m sure I can find a legal precedent for that, too.

  Given time.

  And Geordie and me? Apart from it being no-one’s business, we’re doing just fine. And the twins are growing fast.