“Most of the important events for Humanity happened long before even my great grandfather was a twinkle in someone’s eye. The Apocalypse War, the Great Exodus, the founding of Space Earth, First Contact with the Geckodians, and then a century of stagnation. We were well aware of the Union for most of it. Despite all the perceived benefits, most were hesitant to join. It took many decades and a few important detractors to die of old age before we seriously considered it. In the meantime, most were hedging their bets on the Seeders. Like my father.”

  Rooms all quiet as I take my reluctant turn. If it weren’t for all the Dyna crowding around me this would feel more like a hostage negotiation. Inanna has made sure Joan keeps a claw on my thigh at all times so I don’t try and escape. Clever bitch.

  “Inquiry: What are these Seeders?”

  “What it says on the tin. Earth was in a really bad state. Humanity had fully evacuated to Space Earth. There was still life but it was few and hostile. After many failed attempts, Humanity perfected a form of fungus that would rapidly eat radiation. Unfortunately it was also a needy, delicate thing that required constant attention. Seeders were volunteers. Guaranteed the absolute best we still had to offer if they could de-radiate a hundred square kilometers of the stuff. Most never made it close. Wildlife had reclaimed the world, nothing too crazy, wolves and bears and big cats. I’ve been told they are actually smaller and sicklier than they were before the war. Problem is, so were we. Centuries trapped in Space Earth eating algae bars left us all malnourished and hunched. Tens of thousands of years of generational experience on how to survive on our own Homeworld was lost. We had to learn it all over again. A price paid in blood.”

  I move to take another drink. Then give up half way and push the bottle away from me.

  “Do we have anything stronger?”

  One of the Dyna rushed to a compartment hidden behind the wall. Taking out a small, intricately decorated bottle with a wax seal. Holding it with the care of a newborn as it's brought to me.

  “This one liter of concentrate was sun reduced from one hundred liters of the highest quality Nori Gin. Flavored with a complex mix of herbs and aged for twenty years. The traditional way to serve this is with a single drop suspended in- Err, or you could drink the whole bottle. I guess that is also, uh, acceptable?”

  That’s more like it. A hundred liters of this stuff and it hits about as hard as cheap vodka. No wonder they drink it with everything. Tastes pretty nice, at least. Like an Oyster shot without the booger texture. Alright, think that’s enough liquid courage for the rest of this.

  “The first wave was a massacre. Thirty of mankind’s best and brightest died by the end of the first month. All for less than a square kilometer. It was enough to start a small base of operations. From there, the numbers expanded. Hope for Humanity's future, and abject desperation, kept the program flush with recruits for the first few years. Then the well dried up. At the rate we were going a trillion lives would be lost before even half of Earth was made habitable. It just wasn’t worth it. Seemed like the whole venture was going to be a failure.”

  “Well come on,” Sugar says while shoveling handfuls of fried coin crabs in her mouth like popcorn. “What fixed that?”

  “My dad. He wasn’t a great Seeder. In fact some argued he was the worst. But he did something few others did at the time. Come back alive. He did this by not being stupid. The others were panicky and aggressive. Trying to reach their goal in as short a time as possible. They relied on all the half cooked techno crap the science division made up using spare parts. And then the suits up top wondered why it all went south so fast. He taught them that this was going to be a slow, gradual progress. And that one person accomplishing a little every day for years is better than one person accomplishing a lot in one day then keeling over. More and more people took up his style. Progress started being made. After a few years we had carved a nice little bit of land. Enough for all the career seeders that had proven their worth to live well. And boy did they. Wide open spaces and fresh air. Seeds that had been preserved generations ago were put to use. It was so great they called it New Eden. That’s where I was born.”

  “Oh what warm blood. Are you trying to tell us you were some sort of Progenitor?”

  “Nah, that was Adam. First child born on Earth since we all left. I was like the eightieth, I forget. People stopped counting after the first ten or so. My mom was the Nurse.”

  “Thhhe nurssse?”

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “”Yes. Singular. They only had one for the first few years. Didn’t need any more than that. Mom would always tell me stories of what it was like in those early days. How there were all the strong, smart, ambitious men. The most handsome group of guys she’d ever seen. She’d look ‘em up and down, make sure they were all healthy and ready, and send them off. Then they’d never be seen again. But dad, he always came back. He’d have scrapes and bruises all over. Always a couple new scars. He was the only guy she actually got to know. And, well, one thing and another and all that. And then me. Born in the luxury of sunlight. I had no idea how spoiled I was. Mom would always tell me, ‘Eat your greens while you can, you’ll be dreaming of salads one day.’ Didn’t know how right she was.”

  I have some of the assorted seaweed salad. I still don’t like greens much. That doesn’t stop me anymore.

  “Nine years. Longest run any Seeder ever had. Then his luck ran out. We never learned what happened to him. He just left for another run and didn’t come back. I remember my mom stayed awake for four days. Hoping he was just late. That he would show up battered, beaten, bleeding, Space Hell she’d have settled for missing a limb or two. So long as he was alive. She never really got over it. Can’t blame her, especially since they shipped us off to Space Earth not long after.”

  “Waise, you ons Space Earths.”

  “No, I was on Earth. I was sent to Space Earth.”

  “Is not same?”

  “No. It’s really not that hard. Space Earth was the Space Station the remaining humans migrated to. A sort of primitive Habitation Station. Very primitive. Only around 60% was even functional when the migration was started. Even now there are unused chunks here and there. It was only built to hold ten million people. It had forty. That’s where we had to live going forward. We had Dad’s pension so we were doing good. Of course good by Space Earth standards was terrible by Earth proper standards. Mom got sicker and sicker. And then she was gone. And I was all alone.”

  Another silent space, wish I had another one of those expensive bottles. Or four.

  “Things got better after we joined the Union. Smaller stations were built to elevate pressure on Space Earth. Retrofitted old ships donated from all over the galaxy were turned into new homes for hundreds of thousands. I got my daily bread without having to pay anymore. Still, Earth itself was still a death world. I wanted to help with that. So for the next five years I used all my funds to train. To learn the ins and outs of being a Seeder. I had big dreams of beating my old man's record and then some. I was going to help save us all.”

  Can’t hide my frustration at this part.

  “Then they cancelled the program. Started using drones that could do the work faster and safer. Just like that, my life's purpose was nothing. Spent a long time drifting around. Not really knowing what I was going to do. The arts were making a huge comeback thanks to all the free time. I tried acting, writing, singing, terrible at all of them. I was a clown for a bit. Carnival was huge for a while. Was a fantastic juggler but a horrible clown. Apparently all my jokes were too depressing. Kept making the kids cry. Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t planning to walk out of an airlock or anything. I just… just didn’t know what to do with myself anymore. Then at my lowest point, I saw it. ‘Every Child Dreams of Space. Join the United Humanities Space Force Today.’ I’d seen that exact ad about a billion times. This time, it worked. I signed on, got beat up by an Acid beast, won a battle I had no right to and, well, the rest you know.”

  I get up. Had all the sharing I wanted to do for one century.

  “I’m turning in. Any objections? No? Good. Night everyone.”

  I leave them all there. Heavy first day on what is supposed to be a relaxing trip. Hopefully the rest is a lot less stress inducing. Might have spoken too soon. A Dyna caught up to me and took that coveted arm space again. Oh, there's another on the other arm. And a third wrapping their arms around my waist. And one more with hands on my chest. Either I’m about to die or I’m about to die. Yes, there is a difference.

  “Mister Captain Tom, alone at last are we?”

  “Yeah, I suppose I am.”

  “Not anymore.”

  The Dyna all start talking around each other. Completing each other’s sentences with a single goal.

  “We have heard a lot about you Humans. Such a strange race from a far corner all alone.”

  “Almost all alone. You have those Geckodians keeping you all to themselves.”

  “Such selfish little things. We’ve had a few here. They can’t help but talk.”

  “And their favorite subject is you. They can’t help but gush about their favorite mammals in all the galaxy. How warm you are.”

  “How big you are.”

  “How you go all night long.”

  “How you give off this intoxicating, salty, pungent smell that stays for hours.”

  “It would be a shame if we didn’t get to see just how true all those stories really are.”

  I knew we humans were getting a rather uncouth reputation. Didn’t think that’s where it was coming from. Geckodians all seem like such proper little lads and ladies. I knew they liked us, just not that much or necessarily in that way.

  “I assure all of you, whatever you’ve heard is-”

  I’m immediately shut down by blue lips across mine. And more on my left cheek. And the nape of my neck. And a tongue across my ear.

  I’m not getting out of this, am I?