Fantasy The People Makers

​

New Earth

The Story of Abner Dune​

Abner Dune blinked as he suddenly became aware of strong illumination all around him.

He slowly, painfully open his eyes, squinting in the bright light.

White. Everything was white here. The walls, the floors, even the table he was on. Where was he?

He struggled to sit up.

A hand gently pressed down on his chest. "Take it easy. Go slow. You've been in suspension for a long time."

Suspension?

A woman came into view. A morbidly obese blonde woman with very heavy breasts.

"Welcome," she said, giving him a smile. "My name is Bessie, though around here most people call me First One. What is your name?"

Abner struggled to speak, but all that came out was a rasp.

"Easy!" said Bessie. She handed him a white cup. "Drink." She saw his hesitation. "Go on, it's only water."

Abner drank. He coughed slightly as it went down. "T-thank you," he finally managed to say. His voice sounded odd in his ears, as if it hadn't been used in a long time.

"Now what is your name, Dear?"

"Ab-Abner," Abner stammered. "Abner Dune.... Where... where am I? What's happening to me?"

Bessie licked her lips. "Relax. You're safe now."

"Safe... from what?"

"There's no easy way to tell you this, Abner, so I'm just going to come out and say it," said Bessie. She licked her lips again. "The Earth is gone."

"Gone?"

"Destroyed," said Bessie. "The colony planets too. It was Galactic Man Made Temperature Change."

"What? I don't remember any of that!" said Abner. He struggled to sit up, and this time was successful.

"Of course you don't. It's a side effect of prolonged cellular suspension. Abner, you've been in a state of suspension for nearly 500 years."

"500 years?" Abner looked around the empty white room. "Where am I? What am I doing here?"

"You were rescued by a race of beings who want to help the human race survive."

"There are others?"

Bessie nodded. "A few lucky ones. We're all in this together."

"All in what together?"

Bessie gripped his hand. "You, Abner, are going to help us to recreate the human race." She smiled down encouragingly at him as she squeezed his hand tightly. "The Earth is gone, but humanity will survive... with your help."

"WHAT?" Abner looked around the bright white room. "The Earth, it can't be gone. It can't be!"

"It is," said Bessie.

Abner sat up slowly. He was dressed all in white, a tight clingy material, just as she was. Abner looked around the bright, white room. "It can't be." He started to get off the table, but felt dizzy.

Bessie took him by the arm. "Easy, easy. You haven't stood up in 500 years. If it weren't for the cryogenic suspension, your muscles would have atrophied-"

"500 years?" said Abner, shaking his head. "What is this place?" The sterile whiteness of the room felt blinding.

"This is the Space Station," said Bessie. "Frog will show you around. Once you've gotten your orientation, we'll talk again."

Frog?

As Bessie waddled out of the room Abner noticed a green creature standing in the corner. It looked like a six foot tall grasshopper or preying mantis standing erect on two slender legs. It had giant green eyes, antenna, and a large crystal hanging from its neck.

"Hello, Abner Dune," came a soft, feminine voice. As Frog spoke, the crystal flashed.

"Who... what are you?"

"I am Frog," said Frog.

"You don't look like a Frog," said Abner.

"I am not. But that's what your people call me. It makes them comfortable, so I do not mind."

"My people?" Abner tried to concentrate. His head was pounding.

"Other survivors we have gathered here. Are you in pain?"

"A little"

Frog handed Abner two pills. "Take them."

"What is it?"

"It will make you feel better."

Abner looked at Frog, and then back at the pills. He swallowed, coughing as they went down.

"Easy," said Frog. "You haven't drunk in 500 years."

"You keep saying that. I can't believe that 500 years have passed."

"You have been preserved in cryogenic suspension for 502 of your years."

"Why so long?"

"That was the length of time it took to get you from your galaxy to this one."

"Rescued by whom?"

"We of the Federation."

"The... Federation.... you're a race of frog people.... who just decided to help us?"

"Yes. We are actually not one species but a whole host of different species, come together by our shared purpose. One of our prime directive is to help species on the brink of extinction survive. When your Earth was on the verge of destruction due to Man Made Temperature Change, we sent ships there to rescue who we could. For the past six and a half years ships have been arriving from your planet with survivors such as yourself in cryogenic suspension. You are the last survivors of the human race."

"What about all the colony planets? What about Vega?"

"Destroyed by Man Made Temperature Change."

"Turner 5?"

"Man Made Temperature Change."

"Wayfaira-"

"All destroyed by Man Made Temperature Change."

Abner frowned, grabbing his head. The throbbing only seemed to intensify. "How can that be? As a kid I learned about Man Made Temperature Change.... but that only should have affected the Earth. How could it affect other planets?"

"Your temperature science was in its infancy. Planets are all linked together by subspace heating corridors."

"They are?"

"Very much so," said Frog. "What affects one planet slowly affects them all. Mankind destroyed itself most efficiently."

"I... I still have trouble believing this."

"I know. Come."

They walked down a curving corridor of the Space Station. "Why don't I remember any of this? Why don't I remember the Earth being destroyed by Temperature Change?" Abner asked.

"It's a side effect of the cryogenic suspension. Much of your near term memory is erased. What is the last thing you remember?"

Abner frowned, trying to think. "I'm not sure. I, I was an agricultural technician on a farm in Witchita. That's in the United States of America, one of the territories of the World Government. I remember fixing some of the robotic harvesting units, but I don't have a specific last memory."

"On average subjects lose anywhere between one to three months of their memory from the cryogenic process. It is one of the lesser side effects of cryogenic suspension on your race."

One of the lesser effects? What were the major ones?

Abner put a hand over his face. "I feel different."

"Mirror."

A holographic mirror appeared in front of him. Abner realized he suddenly looked older. His hair was all white!

"How old am I now?"

"You are 523 years old chronologically," said Frog. "But in cellular terms you have only aged a few weeks since you were put into cryogenic suspension."

"But my hair...."

"A cosmetic change. Nothing to be concerned about. Please follow me."

Abner followed Frog into an enormous four level room, filled with transparent freezer tubes. And inside each one of them was a naked human being. Frozen. And their hair was all white.

"It's true," Abner whispered, looking at a woman with curly orange hair with large breasts which pointed downwards. "It's all true." Abner tilted his neck upwards. "How many?"

"Currently 154 Test Subjects are in cryogenic suspension," said Frog, his crystal flashing with every spoken word.

"Why are they all still frozen?" Abner asked, slowly walking by the bodies.

"The Space Station has a limited capacity. We revive a specimen every time a body experiences cellular failure."

"What do you mean, cellular failure?" Abner asked, as he stared at the body of a handsome man with a broad, hairy chest.

"An unfortunate side effect of the cryogenic suspension. Freezing works quite well on most species of the Federation, but your species has been found to be unfortunately fragile. So far those who have been revived have experienced cellular failure within a matter of 20 cycles... what you call weeks."

"Weeks? I only have 20 weeks to live?" Abner felt his heart hammering in his chest.

"That's a mean figure, not an absolute. The observed range within three standard deviations has been between 12 and 26 cycles, though there have of course been exceptions. But yes, you can expect to have a lifespan of three to six of your months," said Frog.

"What?" Abner collapsed against a wall. "I'm going to die!"

"I am so sorry," said Frog.

"Why? Why did you do this to me?" He ran a hand over his face and white hair.

"It was the only way to save you. Your species is so frail that we didn't have the means to perfectly preserve you over your long journey," said Frog.

"But... to only have 20 weeks of life left... what can I do?"

"What you can do is to participate in the Experiment."

"What do you mean?"

"Come."

Abner, feeling dazed and stunned, mindlessly followed.

Frog led him to another room, a large chamber with windows. Outside Abner could see they were orbiting a bright orange planet. "What is that?"

"New Earth," said Frog. "Where the next generation of humanity will be born."

"Care to explain that?"

"You have been brought here to mate with others of your kind, to create a new human race in a controlled fashion."

"Controlled, what do you mean, controlled?"

"Your planet was destroyed because of the unchecked ego of capitalism and individualism. Ultimately the technological destruction of your civilization can be traced to a genetic flaw in your race's character. Here on the Space Station we hope to eliminate that mistake from recurring by controlled breeding."

"Controlled breeding? Meaning... you select the sex partners?"

"We did, at first," said Frog. "But we found the results to be disappointing. Later we learned to rely on human intuition. You, all of you participating in the Experiment get to choose your own partners. Those which can produce a stable civilization which passes certain benchmarks for the first thousand years of existence will be selected for mass reproduction."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute!" This was all too much too fast for Abner. "How can you possibly know whether a civilization will survive for a thousand years?"

"By planting the seeds, going forward in time, and seeing the results."

"You... you can travel in time?"

"Yes. Look."

Abner looked out the window. They were in orbit around an orange planet. In the distance were a pair of suns.

"Notice the two stars which New Earth orbits around. Do you see the occasional flashes of light in outer space?"

Abner looked closely. Slowly, he did notice flashes. "Yes. what is that?"

"That is the confluence of gravity waves and light energy from the two stars colliding with each other. This confluence creates gateways to other times. We have learned how to harness this to travel back or forward in time of our choosing. When a genetic pairing is made between a man and a woman here on the Space Station, our reproduction facility on New Earth mass produces 69 fully grown individuals, made by the genetic pairing of the selected specimens. These individuals are programmed with memories and skills and are settled there to restart the human race. Then our probes travel forward in time, usually in 100 or 200 year increments, and evaluate the technological, social, and emotional progress of the society. Benchmarks are taken. If certain benchmarks are reached and maintained by the thousand year mark, then the Experiment will be a success and our task here will be complete."

Abner blinked rapidly. This was so much information to absorb. Genetic manipulation. Cloning. Time travel. "So wait.... how long have you been doing this?"

"Approximately six and a half of your years."

"And... how many attempts have been made to create this perfect civilization you are looking for."

"912."

"And how many of those were successful?"

"As of yet, none," said Frog. "Which is why you have been revived. Each new specimen gives us another chance, another new injection of genes, to attempt to recreate a durable human race which can survive at least a millennia."

Abner grabbed his head. "I... I still don't understand. Two people are paired together, right? Then you take their genes and make a bunch of people and plant them on the planet. Then you go forward in time... to see if their descendants did as well as you hoped?"

"Essentially correct."

"But... you can only do this once," said Abner. "After the first time you've done this, you've already created a new civilization, for better or worse." He looked down at the planet. "Where is the civilization you created?"

"Nowhere," said Frog. "When an experiment fails, the results are erased."

"Erased?"

"If we determine an experiment has failed, we go back to a point in time just before the experiment has begun, before the genetic offspring has been created, and we stop ourselves from creating them."

"So you wipe out a hundred or more generations... so you can do it all over again?"

"They are not wiped out. They simply never existed in the revised timeline."

"You wiped them out. How many thousands or millions of people have you killed?"

Frog sighed. "You have to understand, Abner, we are trying to create a viable species. The failures we temporarily created are of no consequence because they themselves would have eventually failed, either through Man Made Temperature Change or some other self imposed disaster. Do you understand?"

Abner sighed, rubbing his fingers together. "I want to go home," he said tightly.

"I'm sorry, you can't," said Frog. "The Earth you know no longer exists."

"Sure it does! Just send me back in time, what, 500 years! You could do it, couldn't you?"

"First of all, young Abner, we'd have to send you back in time a thousand years because if you recall it would take 500 years to return to your galaxy," said Frog. "Second of all yes, theoretically we could return you to whence you came, but it would require tremendous resources to do so and it would be ecologically pointless."

"Ecologically pointless?"

"We would just be returning you, at great cost and expense, to an Earth which would be destroying itself yet again. The Federation has limited resources, Abner. We must use all of them to ensure your species survives. But all of this is irrelevant. Your body could not survive freezing again for a prolonged period of time."

"So... what do you want from me?"

"Nothing much, really," said Frog. "All you need to do is select a female to partner with. We will handle the rest."

"Handle?"

"We already have your genetic material on file, as we do of all specimens on the Space Station. Once you have selected a female and she has selected you your DNA will be combined and remixed to create the first generation. Then we will travel ahead in time to observe the results of the experiment."

"How... how many women are to choose from?"

"Currently there are 149 active specimens on the Space Station. 57 of them are female."

"I would think it would be an even split."

"We have found that trial and error that greater competition for females produces superior genetic pairings."

"I see," said Abner.

"It is a lot to consider. Come, let me show you more of the Station."

Frog brought Abner to an enormous sphere shaped room perhaps 20 stories tall. In the middle of it was a giant yellow beam that went from ceiling to floor. Abner stood on a very narrow walkway staring at it.

"This is the nanoreactor. It powers the Station," said Frog.

Abner stared at the giant yellow beam of energy. It gave off a lot of heat which bathed his body. "Feels powerful," he remarked.

"It is." Frog took Abner to another room of identical shape and size but this one had visible waves of air moving back and forth like tides. They were of all different colors, shapes and sizes and they made musical sounds.

"What is this?"

"The Entertainment Sphere. You can change the patterns by moving your body." Frog lifted a green arm. Some of the waves turned orange-yellow and gave off distinct sound like wood flutes.

"Amazing," said Abner.

"We have all kinds of entertainment here," said Frog. He led Abner on a tour of the curving white corridors of the station, but one door would not open for them, an orange door.

"The hanger bay and beyond that Central Control. Access is limited to Federation personnel, I'm afraid."

Abner looked at the locked orange door. "So... we're prisoners here?" Abner asked.

"You're our guests," said Frog.

"But we can't leave."

"Where would you go?" Frog asked.

Abner had no ready answer for that.

"Come. It's time to see the more populated areas of the station. I'll take you to Oregon."

"Oregon" turned out to be an enormous outdoor lounge and restaurant which seemed to be in a clearing in the middle of an expansive redwood forest. Abner saw human beings for the first time there, lying on lounge chairs and chatting with each other. He noticed they were all wearing tight white outfits like himself. And they all had white hair.

For the most part the women were young and slim and attractive, and the men were young and athletic and charismatic. It was a flying stud farm.

Holography gave the illusion of the landscape going on as far as the eye could see. It was as if they were in a real forest on Earth. He said as much to Frog.

"We find familiar settings help our Test Subjects perform better," said Frog.

Next he took Abner to "Algeria". Algeria was a similar outdoor bar/lounge setup to Oregon except it was situated in a desert. Abner saw sand dunes going on and on in every direction.

And lastly was "Bermuda", another lounge/restaurant area but this time set in a jungle/beach setting. There was even a waterfront with a back and forth tide which looked breathtakingly real, as if you could swim in it. Abner again saw men and women with white hair wearing white jumpsuits talking to each other, smiling at each other, even flirting with each other.

They were all cooperating with the program.

"And these people all have...."

"Most of them. Many times," said Frog.

"Many times? How many times?" Abner asked.

"Some specimens have tried twenty or more times," said Frog. "They realize their time is limited here and they want to pass on their genes to the next generation."

"You said many of them have. Some haven't?"

"Some refuse. It is their choice, of course," said Frog. "But most try to make a profound mark on the next generation."

"And none of them have succeeded?"

"Failure is an overgeneralization. Some have gotten closer than others. The success or failure of a future civilization is given numerical grades in a number of areas. Some people have combined to get scores of 500, 600, or even 700 out of a perfect thousand. But none of those scores have endured to the passing mark. Still, they kept trying. One never knows what combination of genes with what partner will produce the optimal result, the optimal human race of the future."

Abner frowned. This seemed so incredibly bizarre to him.

"Come. The First One would like a word with you."

"I have brought him, First One," said Frog.

"Very good. How was your tour, Abner?" Bessie asked. She sat behind a small desk in a tiny office, which made her fat body look even larger.

"Fine," said Abner.

"You're still processing, I can see. It's a lot to take in."

"It is," said Abner.

"Take a few days to settle in," said Bessie. "When you've picked a partner, and found someone who will mutually accept you, come to me first and I'll process your joint application."

"My... joint application?"

"To combine your genes to produce a new human race," said Bessie. "You're good genetic stock. There are a lot of girls who I'm sure would be eager to mix their genes with yours. Of course, what's best for them isn't always what's best for you."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, their goal will be to select a gene partner who will augment rather than suppress their best characteristics. They'll already have tried to partner with every man on the station who they think is a good prospect. They'll look to you, as a new entry into the gene pool, to pull their combined rating up. But you should be interested in finding the best partner for you rather than for them. I would be happy to help you in that regard, if it would be helpful to you." She crossed her fat arms and looked expectantly at him.

"To help me?"

"Yes. I've taken time out from my busy schedule to look at your genetic profile. It's most promising. You're a follower, Abner. Our new world is going to need followers, many of them. But it will also require leaders. The unique combination of your gene pattern and mine could-"

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but are you suggesting that we have children together?" Abner's eyebrows shot up.

"First One, it's all so new to him," said Frog. "Really, we should give him time to get acclimated."

Bessie aimed a glare at Frog's direction. But when she turned back to Abner, she was all smiles. "Of course, the actual reproduction, the hard work, if you will, will be carried out by the Federationistas in their genetic reproduction tanks. We would submit a joint application together and if approved by Graylor and the Committee-"

"I'm sorry, but this is too much for me," said Abner. "You tell me everyone I have ever known about, ever cared for is dead. I had a girlfriend named Anna. I'm guessing she's dead too. You wake me up here and meet me for the first time and announce you want to have children with me?"

"Truly, First One, I think he just needs some time," said Frog, his talk-crystal glowing with each word.

"Time." Bessie grimaced, concealing her impatience. "Very well. You can have time. Just be aware that when you step out there that all the piranas will come on to you. Don't fall for the first one with a pretty smile and a firm set of tits. Think about it, really think about it, and come back and talk to me when you have decided."

"All right," Abner said. Anything just to get out of here!

Frog showed him to his quarters. It was a tiny room, perhaps five feet by ten feet, with space for little more than a bed, a chair, and a compartment which folded into the wall.

"You may find it austere, but you can make it into anything you want," said Frog.

"Anything I want?"

"Forest," said Frog.

Suddenly, they were in the middle of a forest. Abner gasped.

"Desert."

The environment changed to a desert.

"Jungle. Mountains. Beach." The environment flickered as if changing a channel.

"Holography?" Abner asked.

"Not quite. Try walking into it."

"What?"

"Walk into it."

Abner estimated that the far wall of the room shouldn't be more than five steps away. He took one step, then another, then another... ten steps later he was still walking, on a beach. "How is this possible?"

"Interdimensional spatial manipulation."

"What?"

"Are you hungry, Abner?" Frog asked. "After all, you haven't eaten in 500 years."

"I... I guess so."

"Come. They are serving breakfast."

Frog took him to Oregon. He found himself sitting in front of a plate of bacon and eggs in an outdoor lounge full of giant redwood trees. He started eating mechanically. The food tasted real.

Abner looked around. There were several dozen people sitting and chatting. All were wearing the tight white outfits. All had white hair as he now did.

Several men were sitting nearby. One of them smiled and came over to him. "You new here? Of course you are, I've never seen you before. The name is Gavin Ansom." He extended his hand. Abner shook it automatically. "Mind if we join you? It's always a treat meeting someone new."

There were four of them, Gavin Ansom, Ardis McDuff, Roland Miller, and Craig Cobin. Abner quickly found out that Gavin Ansom had been the World Government Controller for the Free Free State of California. Ardis McDuff was a self made billionaire who specialized in helping the poor. Roland Miller was a famous novelist, and Craig Cobin was some kind of strategic investor. It seemed a little odd to Abner that he would encounter a group of such accomplished people. If the Federationistas chose the most successful strata of society to rescue, why did they choose him? He was nothing, a minor agricultural technician from Witchita.

"So good to meet you, Abner," said Craig, giving a sly grin. Craig had a big, twisty nose which made his face look ugly, but his grin was a friendly one. "How long have you been awake?"

"I don't know. Maybe an hour."

"First hour? You must still be in shock," said Roland Miller, the author. "I know it's a lot to take in."

"It is!" Abner licked his lips and looked the men over one by one. He lowered his voice. "Tell me, truthfully. Is... is this real? The Earth, destroyed? 500 years have passed? We're the only survivors?"

"It's true," said Gavin. "It's all true, Abner."

Abner gave forth a sob as he started to tremble. "Everyone I knew... Everyone is dead... my Mom... my Dad.... Anna... all my family and friends."

"I'm sorry, Kid. It's a rough deal, for all of us," said Ardis McDuff, the billionaire.

"And...." His voice started to crack. "We're all going to be dead in just a few months?"

"We call it flash freezing," said Roland Miller grimly. "Every morning we wake up and see who didn't make it to breakfast. We find their bodies in their quarters. Their skin is all white, their bodies dried to the bone. Total cellular disruption. A side effect, they say, of the freezing."

"Do... do you know when it's going to happen?"

Roland shook his head. "No one knows."

"How long have you been here?"

"Most of us, a few weeks," said Roland. "You'll find a few who have been around for months. You'd be hard pressed to find anyone who's been here for more than six months. We have the lifespans of fruit flies." He took a quick drink of a green liquid, as if to steady himself.

"Which is why we have to make something of ourselves before we go," said Gavin. "We all try the partnering, to create a stable new race of humanity."

"Have any of you succeeded?"

Gavin shook his head. "Some of us have come close, but not close enough. But we need to keep trying, if the human race is to survive."

Near the outdoor lounge/restaurant there was a stage, and two being stepped onto it. They looked like illustrations. One of them had a body in the shape of a sausage with a long bun wrapped around it; and the other's body looked like a meat patty with a round bun wrapped around it. Both had very thin black arms and legs with bright white mittens and shoes at the end of them which looked very much like cartoons or illustrations.

"Who are they?" Abner asked.

"Them? That's Hotdog and Hamburger," said Ardis.

"Good morning, everyone," said Hotdog. "Does everyone feel good today?"

The audience didn't respond.

"I can't hear you."

"Good morning," said a few people.

"I can't hear you!"

"Good morning!" they shouted louder.

"That's better," said Hotdog. "It sounds like not everyone is awake. I'm sure everyone will feel better with some light morning exercises. Don't you agree, Mr. Hamburger?"

"By all means, Mr. Hotdog!"

And then as Abner watched, Mr. Hotdog and Mr. Hamburger led the crowd through a series of calisthenics.

"What are they?" Abner asked.

"Hotdog and Hamburger," Ardis explained.

"But... what are they?" he asked again.

"Kid, there are a lot of things you are just going to have to accept on faith," said Ardis.

After Hotdog and Hamburger completed the morning exercises (congratulating the crowd on the effort and reminding them that the road to fitness had no end!), a dusky skinned woman came onto the stage.

"Good morning, everyone," she said. "Praise Ajuba!"

"Praise Ajuba!" the audience repeated.

"Ajuba?" said Abner.

"Ajuba is the deity of the Federationistas," said Roland Miller. "Assada is the self-declared high priestess of the Cult of Ajuba."

As they watched, Assada started to chant a sermon. "Oh Ajuba! Please forgive our sins! Forgive us for destroying our planet with our evil technology and machines! We implore you to give us another chance! Let us mate and be fruitful."

"Let us mate and be fruitful," said the congregation.

"People believe in the religion of this alien race?" Abner asked.

"As much as they understand it, which is to say, not much at all," said Roland.

"What about their own religions?"

"The Earth was destroyed, Abner," said Roland. "The Equalitarians felt that the Good Lord would appear and make everyone perfectly equal. It didn't happen. The followers of Aura predicted the She-Goddess would appear and subjugate the men. That didn't happen. Assada there is, or should I say was, a follower of Laquinta, the Great God of Blood. But when her faith failed her, she turned to Ajuba."

"All praise Ajuba!" said Assada, holding her arms up high.

"All praise Ajuba!"

"I was in the Bermuda Lounge yesterday and I saw a dolphin. A real dolphin. It was a sign from Ajuba. A sign from his followers that he wants us to succeed," said Assada. "All praise Ajuba!"

"All praise Ajuba!"

When the service was over, Assada came over to them. "I see we have a new sheep in the flock."

"Yes," said Ardis. "Assada, this is... what did you say your name was?"

"Abner."

"Abner," said Ardis. "Abner, this is Assada."

"So nice to meet you, Abner," said Assada. The first thing Abner noticed about her were her eyes. The brown skinned woman had intense dark eyes. "Have you selected your first mate yet?"

"I... no."

"Why not?" she demanded, putting her hands on her hips.

"Assada, he was just revived an hour or two ago," said Roland.

"There is no time to waste. We must mate and be fruitful," she said, licking her lips. Abner felt her eyes devouring him.

"Assada, please, give the boy some space!" said a new voice. A brown haired woman extended her hand. "You must be Abner, I'm Michelle. But people call me Shelly." She gave him a brilliant smile.

Abner shook her hand as her smile grew broader.

"May I sit down?" Without waiting for a reply, Shelly sat down in a chair which put her between Abner and Assada. "You're new here, aren't you? You must be feeling bombarded right now. Has the First One proposed you mate with her?"

"First One?"

"Bessie." Michelle spread her hands wide and inflated her cheeks.

Abner couldn't help but laugh. "Yes."

"Has Frog told you it's your duty to save the human race and you need to chose someone right now?"

"Kind of," said Abner. Frog hadn't actually been so aggressive, but there was something in Shelly's tone and smile which made him want to agree with her.

"And now here's Assada trying to slide between your legs. Assada, he just woke up! Give him a few days, at least!

Her eyes flared. "Ajuba waits for no one!"

"Well, Ajuba is going to have to wait for this one." She smiled at Abner. "Don't you have services to lead in Algeria?"

"Yes. I do. Abner, see you later?"

Abner nodded as she turned and left.

"Thank you," said Abner sincerely.

"You're welcome," Shelly giggled. She has the mannerisms of a younger woman, but Abner saw that she was in her late 30's, at least. She put her hands over his. "Sit back, and relax for a bit. There are no important reproductive decisions you have to make in the next ten minutes, are there?"

Abner shook his head.

"Then tell me about yourself. Where do you come from?"

Abner found himself talking to Shelly for considerably more than ten minutes. He found her surprisingly easy to talk to. She smiled encouragingly at him, asking pertinent followup questions, talking with him about his feelings about Witchita, about his parents, even about Anna.

"I'm so sorry about Anna, really I am," said Shelly.

"I'll bet she is," said a new voice.

Abner turned his head and saw the most beautiful woman. She had big, thick blonde hair, large firm breasts, and a slender hourglass figure.​