"Phew... I don't know what to say." Josh shook his head dumbfounded, looking out the window at an almost completed building in the courtyard of the research complex.
"Aw guys, I don't understand why you got all sour about, it's just wonderful!" Sandro sang enthusiastically. "Finally, there is a more tangible hope for the salvation of mankind! Kids are a wonderful thing! I would have one. Or two. Oh, Chris, will you give me a baby?" the blondie cooed languidly, snuggling close to Chris sitting next to him. "I would give everything for the opportunity to get impregnated by you," he trailed off, dropping both his voice and face while finishing the thought.
"Me – is the last person one should be wanting to have a baby with..." Chris muttered irritably.
"That's so wrong of you! Such a gene pool is being wasted. Don't think any bad of me; I won't demand recognition, legal fatherhood or anything else. It's just ... for me."
"Sandy..." Chris sighed. These games, when you don't understand whether the ex-boyfriend is being playful or if he's serious, are no longer as touching as before. Perhaps, if Sandro did not show so much attention and adoration towards Chris, they could still be together, but Sandy wanted too much, and Chris... well, he didn't really need anything of this at all.
***
Born in 820, like the entire first hormonal generation, Chris Newman was not one of those who craved any kind of attention. His mother died in childbirth, so since childhood, he used to achieve everything on his own. He was reserved, but his determination did not allow him to turn into a feral sociophobe. He did not seek fame or recognition, he did not care about the praise or respect of others, did not crave relationships. He understood the impulses of Sandro and other representatives of the new generation, more susceptible to hormonal influence, but such impulses were not characteristic of him. His body accepted the gene modifications as needed, has adjusted as prescribed in the dissertations of a whole generation of Zirkaazte. He was also sometimes got emotionally overwhelmed, but Chris did not really like such moments. Probably, something ancient was left in him, constantly repeating that not everything they are is the way it was intended by nature. Evolution has made an immediate turn and none of them is where they should have been after all this time if an experiment of a universal scale had not been launched. Therefore, the young man worked on himself. He regularly trained in the gym, meditated when the so-called hormonal waves hit him. He did not allow himself to relax both physically and spiritually. Chris was comfortable being whom he was born, but the cocoon of calmness and loneliness suited him more than the temporary or permanent partnership with which his fellows escaped the waves' impact.
From the first stage of training, that is, in school years, Chris's brain was focused on acquiring knowledge and self-development. He did not shy away from any company that formed around him from time to time, but he was never the initiator of a relationship — neither friendly nor romantic. He was spared of all youthful loves, the bragging of classmates about the first kiss stolen under the stairs at the biochemistry class, or the first sex with the insanely cute four-eyed boy - the best of the class.
After graduating high school with honors, Chris entered a technical college, but after studying for only a couple of years and choosing the main direction, which was of particular interest, he realized that it would be much easier to pass graduation externally than it might seem. Thus, thanks to assertiveness, he managed to enter the leading robotics university at only twenty years old, although usually students reached the fifth stage of education at twenty-five.
Needs to be said, that the scientific magic of the zirks really did work, and not only for themselves. For centuries, they tried to somehow influence not only the nature of the Earth, but also its inhabitants, in one way or another improving the quality of life and putting the average age level higher, pushing further the general mortality of our people. Long-livers who live to be a hundred years old have long ceased to be considered long-livers, because at the age of a hundred years not all humans even retired, having a decent margin of time both for career growth and in order to freely explore their planet and themselves.
Robotics was one of the main branches of New Earth humanity. Automated factories, farms, smart homes, autopilot cars, everything, almost everything that surrounded people, had intelligence. Even the "personnel" serving this clever technique were robots. However, human control should never be completely ruled out, for no matter how perfect and durable the robots are, they too could sometimes go wrong. Therefore, it was extremely important to educate specialists who could provide service for all the lines of the latest intellectual technology so that life would not lose one iota of its comfort level that was obtained by the long work of not one race, but two at once.
However, Chris did not proceed with higher science. After graduation, he rented a compact but comfortable room in New London and got into the most ordinary car service station in the same building where he lived. A quiet life more than suited him. Although he was invited to graduate school, he was prophesied of a successful future in the development department, in the aerospace department, in another department, he did not even remember all the possible outcomes if he'd agree to go further. Chris just felt that this wasn't his thing. Or not yet. At that time, he wanted privacy, so he went on by honing those skills that he had already received, and then... Who knows what the future holds for him.
And so it happened. A few years later, some dormant dissatisfaction and a craving for new knowledge perked up, and Chris began to look for a new place for him where he could develop further. Having studied the prospectuses of the leaders of modern higher education a bit, he decided to try his luck at The Biological Research Institute – the scientific complex of the Biosphere 2. Thus, he became a resident of an artificial island and a promising member of Professor Shirokawa Kazuaki's research team, and so far, he has liked it. A lot of interesting work, a nice team... in the end, one shouldn't spend the whole life in the shell.
He liked their supervisor – rather old and absolutely tranquil Japanese who knew his job well, and it was a pleasure to work with him. Chris also managed to get along well with fellow students and teammates – someone was a bit noisier or pestering than Chris would have liked, but they all had a common goal. There were also a lot of Zirkaazte here – that's who Chris was sometimes much more comfortable working with than humans. The green lizards were extremely silent, constantly immersed in themselves or in performing, cold and rational, just a lot like Chris. It was interesting to observe them, especially outside the laboratories. What earthlings knew about them was still not a very large slice. The way they behaved in public, in the media, at work, was different from behavior in their own kind, at homes, in an environment where they could not be watched, where it was not necessary to behave otherwise. That is precisely why Chris visited the training room, where mostly zirka teachers and researchers went to workout.
***
"Hey, you're not risking, are you?" Josh asked pulling Chris out of his thoughts.
"Meaning? Risking how?"
"I mean that you spilled this all to us," his friend explained.
"Nah, hardly. If it were a piece of top secret information, then he would never share this with me in the first place and secondly, since he shared, then would definitely warn me not to open my mouth to share it further," Chris reasonably remarked, ruffling too long brownish strands. He ought to get a haircut for a long time already.
The young man was thoughtful for a moment – but what if it really was a secret for others. Although, whom "others"? Those who are not in such a trusting relationship with the lizard scientific coordinator? It's such a rubbish. Erzketau would have warned him for sure.
Throwing his doubts aside, he quickly finished the lunch and hurried to the laboratory, where he and the group were currently analyzing data on modified coniferous seeds. A couple of years ago the idea came to plant them in hotter climate zones, yet their benefit both for the ecosystem and earthlings, in general, was appreciated back in the days of the Old Earth, but with lack of preliminary research, this would cause the drying of the trees. Now, scientists have been working to increase the resistance of acicular flora to higher temperatures.
Although the entire scientific complex was actively studying m-estrogen, sometimes students were assigned something more feasible at their level, also this was serving as an opportunity to distract, switch their attention, thus giving the brain time to relax and reload, and sometimes to shape some not-so-bad idea relative to core business.
After spending an hour and a half among the test tubes, the group began to disperse slowly, but the holographic screens in the rooms flickered, calling for attention, and then showed the headmaster informing of the urgent meeting to be held in the fifth lecture hall and all representatives of the first hormonal generation must attend without fail.
"May the great secret be revealed," Josh muttered grimly, and everyone moved in the indicated direction.
The lecture hall was gradually filling with students. The teaching table was occupied by two representatives of an extraterrestrial race and three new earthlings. A follower of the founder of the m-estrogen program, Erzketau-kri-Zirkaazte, was preparing to deliver the speech; his deputy, senior physiologist, Rangira-kaya, occupied an adjacent chair, followed by the doctor of genetic sciences of the Pacific faction of the Coalition Shirokawa Kazuaki and further sat professors, Marie Francois and Ravi Thakur.
Chris followed as part of his group, intending to sit behind. In the end, he is unlikely to hear something radically new or important, because the technical details of the operation, laboratory tests, and preliminary tests weren't kept in secret, and anyone who wanted to know the information about the impending phase could easily review it. But that god damned John along with Sandro had already hurried to the front rows and the curly one was waving his hand intensively, attracting Chris' attention and letting him know that he had a seat for him. Promising himself to strangle friends when there'll be the first opportunity, Chris moved forward, panting sullenly trying to break through the agitated jam. He did understand them all and did not at the same time. He wished with all his heart the prosperity of human civilization. The humanity had gone through so much; was dying, reborn and again reaching new unprecedented heights of development. Still, Chris could not say that he was very exhilarated by the opportunity to acquire a new organ. If it was, say, a super-chip that represents a new development and improves the lives of all people, such as an automatic blood test implant, which is actively used to support diabetics and other suffering from blood diseases or other diseases, which allows diagnosing deviations and dynamics, if one can track them with just a blood formula.
The young man did not plan to start a family and have kids anytime soon. However, to conceive, bear and "deliver" simply for the sake of experiment, so that then the entire scientific complex would have plus one sample for study… thanks but no thanks.
Sitting down, Chris looked around the hall; there were no empty seats, as expected – all his peers were present – representatives of the first hormonal generation, a prime example of the first phase, as well as all senior students who took a more active part in research related to the second phase. The entire hall was rumbling with curiosity, impatience, eagerness, but it all broke off as soon as a short chime rang from the speakers, calling for attention, and now the eyes of all the young men were riveted to the speaker.
"Greetings everyone, and thank you for coming. It is very important for us to know that the matter of the continuation of our experiment still worries the people of Earth, that it remains important especially for those who bare the greatest hope and greatest responsibility of our mission. In this regard, my colleagues and I ask everyone to think now, to think very carefully whether he will take part in the second phase, the preparation for which will begin in less than a month. For our part, we, the earthly colony of Zirkaazte, guarantee the safety and minimize risks, negative factors, and adverse reactions for each subject. It will not be easy, but it will be safe. We will apply the maximum amount of effort and all available knowledge to this," Zirka slowly looked around the lecture hall and continued. "From today onward and until the construction of the seventh building is completed, anyone can register to implant a uterus* module. In order to make an informed decision, all development details, bio-modeling particulars, and testing, the synthetic organ data will be offered for revision of all interested," the scientific coordinator turned to his colleagues, waited for the deputy's nod, and again turned his gaze to the audience. "Right this moment you should have received invitations to the appropriate database directories and logins for access. You can log in and study materials at any time. In addition, anyone can leave comments and questions on any data or material, or contact me and other project managers directly. Graduate students selected by Professor Kazuaki for further work on the project, I will ask you to stay, the rest are free to go. Who has urgent questions regarding the implementation of Phase 2 – Rangira-kaia will answer them in half an hour in the third lecture hall. Thanks."
Zirka bowed his head slightly and stepped out from the rostrum, rounded the teachers' desk and left the hall before the hubbub filled up the whole space again. The interest of the elders was tremendous. They had been working on reproductive research for a long time and saw a clear break ahead not only for the race as such but for each of them. To be a witness and an active participant in the introduction of a new phase of such a large-scale experiment promised a considerable rise in the study and a good career start. Freshmen treated given information differently.
"Yeah, it's awesome that our race will not go extinct ahead of time, but it's somehow more important for me to get an education and contribute to the development of civilization," one could often hear in the corridors of the complex and in the dorms. "I am curious to see how this mechanism works, but I am not eager to get into the group of assistants or, moreover, waste my time recovering from a strange experiment. I don't know, I like other branches of bio-engineering, I worked so hard to get to Professor Grabowski's group, so..."
"Bah, these blind kittens don't get a thing! I already signed up!" Sandro notified his classmates on the go, catching them on the way to the laboratory. "Chris!" the young man who was not expecting an attack was raked by the breast and pressed against the wall. "You have to hand me your sperm as fertile material!!!"
"What!?" Chris, choking on the juice he was drinking, spat it over Sandro and a couple of friends.
"Why you...," Josh cursed, wiping the drops from his sleeve, "do you ever have a break between the heats?" he muttered, moving away from the nervous blondie.
Chris smoothly pushed Sandro away, fished out a napkin, dropped the useless container into the utilizer, and answered rather harshly:
"I will not give you either my sperm or any other bio-material to bring your schizophrenia to life. I can only write out a direction note for a correctional session if I hear about this shit again."
The whole Sandro's appearance said that he was ready to burst into tears, but, having sighed mournfully, he pulled himself together and dumbly followed the group, muttering to himself:
"You don't understand a thing; it's such a happiness to have a baby."
"Listen, why won't you slow down a bit," Josh suddenly appeared beside him. "You broke up a long time ago and it wasn't Chris who was to blame, we both know that. He respects you as a person with whom he has to work together and hang out in the same company. Nevertheless, you too should show respect for him tolerating your shit. It's impossible to tolerate in any way, but he... Just don't go overboard with his patience. Take it as a recommendation from a friend."
"Josh...," Sandro gave him an unreadable look. "You... I... but..." he paused, rubbing his temple. "I just want him back," he dropped in a broken voice.
Josh sighed heavily and looked up at the receding group.
"I know. Moreover, he knows. Still, that won't change anything. He is different, you see, all this, -" he waved his hand vaguely, "is not about him." Lightly patting Sandro on the shoulder, Josh handed him a napkin. "Let's go, otherwise your seedlings will kick the bucket.
"What will they do?" the young man asked absently, blotting his eyes. "Hey, it's already wet. Did you blow your nose here?" He looked wildly at Josh.
"Hey, why this kind of disrespect for the desired material? This piece of cellulose absorbed particles of Chris's saliva and ... well, his orange juice," Josh explained slowly while retreating and choking on laughter. "You can eat it and have an indirect kiss!"
"Pray, to all the gods you know, bitch!" Blond took off and drove a friend down the corridor, losing school supplies on the go and threatening to feed a "piece of paper" to the diametrically opposite hole relative to which the human race takes in food.