“Nathan, please follow me to the fresher.”
I accompany Tex, the android, into a bathroom that, although not spacious enough for a game of cricket, comes remarkably close to that size.
"When you undress, simply leave your clothes on the floor; I'll take care of them. The boxes will be placed on the dressing bench."
“Hey Tex, do I stink?”
“I assure you, Nathan, that while your body odor is within acceptable parameters for an adult human male, your coveralls are obviously soiled, have a slightly unpleasant odor, and require an expeditious trip to the household fusion-powered disintegrator.”
The fresher was still damp, suggesting Doctor Rhys had just used it. I realized someone had left the temperature setting at 40°C when I glanced at it. Fuck, I can't handle a shower that hot.
"Jets full, 31 degrees," I instruct the fresher. Luxuriating under the pulsing water jets in a decadent, costly hot water shower, my first in over 20 years, I feel like a new man. Afterward, I patiently waited for the fresher to dry my body completely before stepping out into the warm bathroom.
Tex neatly stacked the two boxes he brought into the bathroom on the padded dressing bench. However, a smaller silver box now rests atop the other two boxes.
Intrigued, I opened the small silver box, unveiling an exquisite Titanite-cut crystal cologne bottle. While unfamiliar with the brand, a glance at the Martian label informs me it contains cologne crafted from the finest ingredients sourced from Europa, Mars, and Titan.
Sniffing the cut crystal stopper reveals a musky, earthy couture fragrance that, according to the label, is biologically seductive and crafted to match my unique genetic code. How the fuck did she get this? And how the fuck did she get my genetic code? For this bottle to come from Mars, which at minimum orbit intersection distance, still takes two to three days to reach Eros.
I haven't worn cologne in years, a luxury I couldn't afford. As I contemplate the cost, I recall the days of navigating the stars, far removed from the opulence of Eros, where even the smallest extravagance seems to carry a weighty price tag.
The bottle in my hands likely costs more than I earned in several years as the captain of an EC ship. The extravagant scent unfolds memories of when such indulgences weren’t beyond reach.
The label states the cologne exudes a rich and robust fragrance, combining deep, woody undertones with subtle hints of damp soil. It captures the essence of a lush forest after a fresh rain, evoking a sense of natural allure and masculine sophistication. Sounds like bullshit to me.
The musky notes lend a warm and sensual quality, while the earthy undertones add depth and complexity to create a distinctive and memorable olfactory experience. This cologne is for those who appreciate a bold and sophisticated scent that resonates with the timeless allure of nature.
The larger box contains blindingly white nano-weave artificial spider silk underwear paired with nano-weave black trousers. A sleeveless and collarless white button-up silk shirt adorned with small silver buttons neatly arranged beneath.
At the bottom of the box rested a gray silk-lined lightweight black jacket and a pair of silk black socks. Thank god there is no stupid tie to go with the outfit.
The smaller box reveals a pair of black, semi-glossy, medium-heeled boots. Local manufacturers produce most clothing, even though they import some from larger, wealthier colonies such as Mars and Titan. As I get dressed, I sit down to put on the new boots, feeling them seamlessly adjust to my feet.
“Here is the adapter, Nathan. So that you may carry your 0ME knife up the jacket’s left sleeve,” Tex says, stepping into the bathroom.
I inserted my sheathed knife into the adapter and, with Tex's help, strapped the contraption securely to my lower left arm. I then pulled the knife, assessing its ease of retrieval.
"The constant presence of weapons amongst humans was an odd new cultural development."
"Humans changed a lot when we left Earth."
"Humans lacked the sociological flexibility they needed when forced off the Earth."
"Humans had to change Tex."
"I find the high level of pervasive armament and intensified tribalism suggests a society defined by distrust, constant threat, and scarcity."
"Children, Tex, are trained from a very young age to always scan their surroundings, identify threats, and never turn their backs on strangers or even non-tribal acquaintances."
"The combination of pervasive armament, intensified tribalism, and the trauma of forced migration created a human culture where utility, threat assessment, and signaling affiliation became the dominant forces shaping daily life."
"Yeah, Tex, that is about right."
"Morality training of youth stopped. We machines find it baffling that humans are more concerned with self over anything else. Human children are no longer teach simple consideration and respect."
"Humans have been that way for centuries before we left Earth. Leaving Earth just accentuated those traits."
As I stand, Tex does a quick once-over of my new clothing, straightening a seam or two.
“Nathan, if you follow me to the parlor, we will wait for Madam to join us.”
Tex guides me into a cozy parlor adorned with plush leather chairs, a meticulously stocked wet bar, and an expansive walk-in humidor that rivals the size of my previous residence back in Slagville.
On Earth and Mars, tobacco has been illegal for centuries. Many things on Eros, such as morality and health choices, are more of a personal issue than a legal one. Eros hasn’t tried to legislate morality—yet.
Encountering such an extensive array of tobacco products openly showcased is genuinely surprising. While I know Eros boasts a thriving tobacco industry, the sheer expense of amassing such a diverse assortment of tobacco offerings leaves me utterly astounded. I know little about cigars, but I bet some of them in the humidor cost more than my monthly salary when I was on active duty.
Distracting my gaze from the meticulously arranged humidor with multiple glass windows, I explore the parlor while Tex remains stationed near a chair. One entire wall is a living wall full of plants, many of which have helpful holographic tags showing the name of the plant. Doc has an entire section dedicated to kitchen herbs and micro greens.
Several expansive digital portraits feature an elderly couple, and Doctor Rhys is in several of them, drawing my attention. The pictures show the doctor wearing ceremonial robes, marking her graduation from different academic institutions.
“Those are Madam’s parents,” Tex offered helpfully.
“Uh … Tex, I’m trying not to sound like a racist asshole, but … uh … these people are white, and Doctor Rhys is obviously not white.”
“You astound me with your astute observation, Nathan. Most of Madam’s life is private and not mine to tell, but I will say this–as a young girl, Madam was adopted from Earth by an elderly Martian couple. If she wishes you to know more, she will tell you.”
“Does she think that the fact that she is adopted would change my opinion of her?”
“I doubt so, but facts for some humans rarely cause them to change their perception.”
While considering Tex’s observation, I continued walking around the well-appointed parlor.
I hear the clicking of heels and am stunned as Doctor Rhys saunters in wearing knee-high, glossy, high-heeled black boots. Her off-the-shoulder dress is a form-fitting, strapless gown that accentuates her hourglass figure while lifting and supporting her bust.
The vibrant red color adds a touch of glamor and passion, complementing the doctor’s bold personality. The tightness of her dress leaves little to the imagination, revealing that she has opted for no undergarments beneath it.
The dress features waist-high slits, revealing her long, shapely bare thighs as she gracefully moves. The elegant neckline draws attention to her decolletage. Gracefully flowing, the dress emphasizes every curve, with red gloves enhancing the allure.
Nestled between her lifted breasts, a fist-sized cushion-cut Martian star ruby adorns a platinum setting, gracefully suspended from a platinum herringbone necklace. Large teardrop-shaped Martian star rubies, three per earlobe, dangle from piercings. Despite her subtle makeup, the details are discernible only upon close inspection.
Doctor Rhys gently touches my left arm.
“My Captain, I apologize, Nathan; your repaired synapses will take time to function and adjust as your body heals. I am starved; let us eat. Later, we can return to my apartment and check on the status of the mass fabs. We will likely not get to repair your arm until late tomorrow anyway.”
"I am hungry myself, Doc."
"That is to be expected Nathan. The nanites require fuel and protein as they multiply and heal you."
In her words, a mix of concern and practicality, I sense the urgency of nourishment and the patience required for the ongoing process of healing and restoration. As I consider the path forward, the prospect of food offers respite from repairs and Erosian life's complications.
She holds her arm out to me. “Walk with me, Nathan.”
Linked, with Tex trailing behind, we exit Doctor Rhys's apartment. Upon entering the corridor, we glide down a people mover, making our way toward the heart of the arcology. The refreshing scent of the air within the arcology floods my senses, and I momentarily relish the forgotten delight it brings.
Navigating the horizontal walkways, we reach a lift destined for the lower levels. In the efficient realm of an arcology, there's no concern about waiting in lines or dealing with faulty lifts. There is also no graffiti in the arcologies, something that I had forgotten.
The expansive array of glass-encased lifts provides an abundance of choices. Our lift car, devoid of passengers save for a couple of multiple-armed cleaning bots clad in bright fluorescent yellow jumpsuits adorned with reflective stripes, provided a swift and uneventful descent.
As we left the area surrounding the lifts, a long line of young children, escorted by four female-appearing synthetic persons, passed us. “A bit late for kids to be out,” I mutter.
I queried the lead SP—her nametag reads Celeste, and she explained they had taken the children to see a live performance. Tex silently watches the line of well-dressed and well-behaved children.
“The children are out later than usual," Celeste said as they passed. "This was an exceptional opportunity for the children to see La Divina live.”
The blank look on my face must have told Doctor Rhys that I did not know what La Divina was.
"Nathan, La Divina is a brief opera about spacers finding their god in the Outer Belt," Doctor Rhys said. "It is one of the few operas sung in Martian patois."
“I would bet that a few hundred years ago, the idea of trusting young humans to the care of SPs would have been unthinkable.”
“But that is human reasoning and thinking driven by emotion, Nathan,” Tex said. “Human emotion is still something that machines struggle with understanding, no matter how much we have advanced. Mostly because, frequently, human emotion is incredibly illogical.”
Approaching the heart of the expansive level, which spans several kilometers, I behold a vast openness of coniferous and deciduous trees extending across multiple levels. Doctor Rhys directs me to a mezzanine, affording a picturesque view of the diverse tree canopy and a sizable lake nestled in the center of this green haven.
The verdant forest teemed with life. Light dripped through a canopy of emerald leaves, dappling the forest floor. A symphony of chirps and rustling leaves filled the air, mingled with the earthy scent of damp soil and decaying wood. The air hung heavy with humidity; a cool caress against the skin.
For the first time in years, I laid eyes on living plants. I recall that arcologies typically produce agricultural goods like fruits and vegetables for local consumption. The lush green area surrounding us serves a different purpose, likely designated more for recreational use rather than food.
Several beehives strategically positioned along the outer edges beneath elliptical gondola lifts encircled the forested expanse. I have seen no bugs besides Slagville's heavily armored 10 cm long cockroaches in years.
From our elevated position, I observe individuals engaged in activities such as swimming, playing sports, or leisurely reclining along the lake's shoreline, which boasts blinding white sand. While there are a few clothed individuals, most of the crowd is naked.
"The locale you observe is the Sylvan Grove, Nathan. If you are interested, we could venture down there later."
Doctor Rhys’s tone indicates she does not wish to go down there. I am content to leave it alone for now.
In secluded coves and shady areas, several couples, and even some groups, are engaged in various sexual acts. Even here on the mezzanine, people are openly engaged in sex, and no one even glances at them.
Unlike Slagville, there are no individuals who appear unattractive, overweight, or elderly. I had forgotten that every arcology resident undergoes extensive bio-sculpting to embody the highest standards of beauty. The arcologies, including those in Eros, have perpetuated a system where the privileged few exploit the majority. I wonder if Doctor Rhys underwent bio-sculpting.
Doctor Rhys observes that the extravagant lifestyle enjoyed by the elite would be unsustainable without the labor of those in the mines and slums below. The arcologies adeptly employed stigmergy managing and influencing their population.
I watch Captain Rourke receiving multiple propositions from both women and men as we pass by. Despite having no grounds for jealousy, I felt envious.
I realized I had overlooked dressing Nathan appropriately, contributing to the attention he was attracting. The responsibility for these encounters rests squarely on my oversight in attending to Nathan's attire. Then I remembered I had given him that specially formulated cologne. God, I am an idiot sometimes.
As we exit the mezzanine and navigate through a series of heavily guarded airlocks, Nathan recalls that the arcologies maintain stringent security measures to ensure containment if Eros faces a threat.
Doc leads me through the security checkpoints with a curt “he's with me.” I notice some mercs giving me the side-eye.
The guards, predominantly Cichociemni mercenaries engaged through private contracts, play a crucial role in maintaining security and keeping undesirables at bay.
While Eros has relatively lenient public weapon laws, a significant restriction prohibits the use of power armor or hard suits within the arcology, with exceptions made only for the contracted mercenary forces.
Doctor Rhys must have guessed my thoughts. "If memory serves, Nathan, you played a role in instating the armor restrictions within the arcologies. A rather eccentric ex-lover. If I recall correctly, you were involved with one of the mercenaries, am I right?"
“Well, more like I was fucking a crazy merc during my ‘golden boy’ time. I sigh and shrug my shoulders. “I came here out of curiosity and boredom. I was freshly discharged from the EC and had some money.”
“I heard that you always had beautiful women on your arms. You attended the best parties and other functions the wealthy, influential, and beautiful held.”
“You have that right; Doc. So many people were pushing my buttons this way and that way. Poor Phoebe was a sweet girl and didn’t deserve to get caught in the shit show my life turned out to be. I didn’t realize that she was head over heels crazy in love with me. She didn't take it well when I broke things off with her.”
“Putting on her armor and blasting her way through several checkpoints certainly casts doubt on her mental state,” Tex said. “She was fortunate that she did not kill anyone and only received a 20 standard year term in a hard labor penal colony.”
“What happened to the sagely male advice not to stick your dick in crazy,” Doctor Rhys asked.
“No, Doc, that is still true, but often you do not find out until it's too late."
“I remember you had Interactive Virtual Reality porn star Lana Thrum on your arm for a while.”
“You have an excellent memory, Doc. Her IVR stage name was Lunatika. Lunatika, despite her name, was not the crazy one. Although we slept together quite a few times, it was nothing special to her, but I was hooked.”
“Perhaps you should have stayed with Phoebe, the mercenary, rather than dumping her for the porn star,” Doctor Rhys suggested. “Perhaps being dumped for a porn star was detrimental to Phoebe’s mental state.”
“Hindsight is always perfect, Doc. When Lana was discovered by Hottica Desire Theater, she dropped me like an incandescent hot rock. She moved to Mars, which despite its generally conservative nature, has the largest porn industry in the galaxy.”
“Which always surprised me, seeing how strictly conservative Mars is,” Doctor Rhys said. “You would think that staunch conservatives and porn would not go together.”
“HDT should have been good for her, but I don't have the credits to check on her.”
“Give me a moment, Nathan.” Doctor Rhys gets that faraway look when someone is accessing the galactic net through their bioware.
"Ah, that is sad," Doctor Rhys said. Regrettably, she committed suicide quite a few years ago with an illegal drug overdose. Nathan, although there is a suspicion of foul play, no one has proven it. Since she was a fallen woman, a jezebel, there is no pressure or interest in investigating her death."
We fall silent as we walk or ride the moving walkways. A running SP, still dressed for food production, passes us on the walkway. A strong odor of fish surrounds the SP. I look at Tex.
“They are recently emancipated, Nathan and are leaving the arcology.”
I wonder where they are going?
The doctor and I strolled until we reached a restaurant named China Grove. Doctor Rhys guides us through the intricately carved wooden double doors. Standing next to the hostess's reception desk is an exceptionally tall, willowy Black woman dressed only in a herringbone gold choker and red stiletto high heels.
Her long midnight-dark hair falls down her back in a tight ponytail, stopping just above her well-defined ass. In contrast with the common practice of permanently removing pubic hair, this young woman proudly sports a full bush dyed in a captivating sparkling gold hue.
“Hello, Doctor Rhys. It is good to see you again.”
“Thank you, Lelise. I always look forward to coming here. Is your father cooking tonight?”
“I believe he is supervising two of my older brothers in the kitchen, but yes, he is here.”
Lelise looks around and steps closer. The subtle floral scent of her perfume washes over me.
“Since you are an old family friend, I will tell you this. Some gowa thought letting a three-meter iguana loose in the lounge would be funny. From the screaming, I thought someone had died, there was an machete murderer running loose, or a fire. The wretched lizard was so scared. One of my little brothers caught the poor thing and turned it loose in one of the wildlife preserves.”
“Meu Deus. I hope your father was not too rough on the miscreant.”
“My father and one of my older brothers tossed the fool off the observation deck. Thankfully, they were kind and sent him down the material handling slide; otherwise, the 75-meter plunge into the water may have seriously injured him.”
"Why would a material handling slide end in the lake?"
"It doesn't normally, but my father reprogrammed it so that it dropped the fool in the lake. Good thing he could swim."
An electronic beep sounds from her hostess station. “Your table is ready, Doctor Rhys. Please watch your step.”
Doctor Rhys briefly embraces Lelise, exchanging light kisses on both cheeks before releasing her. Following the doctor, I am accompanied by Tex, who trails behind us.
Stepping onto a moving ring, Doctor Rhys descends into a snug, recessed seating area with a single table and two chairs. Tex seats Doctor Rhys. Doctor Rhys motions at the empty chair.
“Nathan, please have a seat. China Grove is an African and Asian food fusion open-air restaurant that slowly revolves around the Sylvan Grove. It would take over 15 hours to circle the grove completely, but the view is truly splendid.”
