Adam went to his stash, grabbed a bottle of whiskey, a 25-year-old Glenfiddich, and two glasses, and went to the lift. He messaged Roks to bring ice to the top.

The view from the top was impressive, one hundred meters above ground and ending in a black orb that was only transparent from the inside. It was a two-level observation deck. The lower part had workstations, and one day he might have to assign somebody for the job of air controller. The top observation deck had a few comfortable sitting areas and an unfinished bar, unfinished in the manner that it was empty. Droids didn’t know how to make things cozy, so it was all metallic floor and felt rough.

He found a place with a nice view. Next year, he hoped it would be much greener. The dark red soil was nice, but he would prefer a greener view, maybe a lake. He heard the lift door open, and somebody walked out and headed to the bar. Then, he heard ice poured into a metal bucket, and a few moments later, Roks put the bucket between them as he sat down. Adam put one ice cube in each glass and poured Whiskey into each glass. None of them spoke as they leaned back and just enjoyed the silence and the view.

“What happened to your Mohawk?” Adam said as he looked at Roks, his tall red Mohawk was not cut down to a short one, no more than a few centimetre over his skull.

“Wife hated it so, it had to go.” He replied and Adam chuckled. “I know that feeling. I used to have these cool fingerless gloves, but my ex told me to lose them.”

“She is not here now so you can get a new pair.” Roks replied as he stroke his hair in mourning of the loss of a tall mohawk.

“Well, she was right, I looked stupid with them. I guess they are better at fashion than us.” He replied, and they both smiled before Adam got serious.

“They are going to search for us,” Adam said.

“I know, and we will be ready. You saw the message. They don’t know our location, so we have to be more careful when we go to the hub. We should wait until we have built more defense.” Roks replied.

“Jork has a few kamikaze drones; we used them to set off the volcanoes, but I don’t know if they are easy to hack. I don’t want them turned against us.” He looked at Roks who seemed to consider it.

“Barro can go over them,” he finally said. “He is the second pilot of the heavy. He’s our EWO.”

“What’s an EWO?” Adam finished his drink then poured another.

“Oh, Electronic War Operator, that’s a military-trained Hacker. Come to think of it, he should go over our communication security as well.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. Can you ask him? We will also need them as pilots as we start mining Nitrogen from the Gas planet.” Adam said.

“Which one?” Roks finished his glass and poured himself another glass.

“The biggest, I guess I need to name them. I’ll have the kids help me.” Adam said

“The kids? Well, that won't backfire.” Roks laughed.

Adam grinned. “What is the worst that can happen?”

They both fell silent and after a few minutes Roks asked. “So why are we drinking? Not that I mind? Anything to do with the nightmares?” Roks looked over at him, and Adam shifted in the chair.

“How do you know?” He looked outside.

“I heard you scream and hit the wall. Later, your hand was fine, but I smelled the medical, and there are days when you look like you haven’t slept.” He said, and Adam looked back at him.

“Well… wait!” Adam looked at him, surprised. “You can hear that through the walls? Your room is one floor down from mine. How good is your hearing?”

Roks chuckled. “ You’re not that far away on Dream. You're right next to me. Besides, you sometimes fall asleep in the captain's chair and talk while asleep. I don’t think ‘no no’ and ‘please help me’ are good dreams. But then again, you're human, so...”

Adam looked away; for a while, he just looked at the whiskey glass, emptied it, and poured himself a new one. Roks waited patiently.

“Yeah, I have nightmares about my childhood. I thought they had passed, but they come back when I'm stressed,” Adam sighed. It’s from the time before the orphanage. I came here when I was nine years old, before that…” He emptied the glass and looked at the empty glass. “ Before that, I was a product to be sold.”

“A product? What do you mean?” Roks looked at him, confused.

“I was made for a very wealthy couple. They wanted to choose their baby, but I didn’t make it, so I was kept around in case the one they chose needed a donor later. They made six of us. Using the latest in cloning technology.“ Adam sighed, put an ice cube in the glass, and filled it. “I was just number 1 until I was nine; that’s when the organization that made us decided to ship us all to a whorehouse so they could make some extra money on us. You see, they made children for the rich and famous, helped them get their designer children without the trouble of pregnancy, and then used the spares to make some extra money. Some were trained to be goons for them. We were expendable, and as long as one of us was kept in perfect condition in case the chosen needed spare parts, then the others could be put to work.” Adam sipped the glass, and Roks just listened, clearly shocked.

“So, when I overheard that we had chosen to be sent to the whorehouse, I tried to escape. I managed to get outside the factory, but then they saw me and tried to catch me. I ran like crazy, and then I saw a policeman. I thought my luck had finally arrived, so I ran over to him. The police officer name was Michael Wrangler… “He stopped for a second to remember the man,” I asked for help, and he, without hesitation, said he would. Then, he tried to call it in.“ Adam stopped again, closed his eyes, then touched his cheek as it had become wet.

“They shot him right in front of me and then tried to grab me, luckily for me, they forgot that the police are never alone. His Lawdroid partner immediately opened fire, killing them. Then his human partner ran over to grab me and got me to safety. I was in shock, and I honestly don’t remember much until I was in the orphanage. I apparently told the police everything I knew, and they busted the operation. It became a big media case. They gave me a name, Noah, and placed me in an orphanage named Kent. So my name was Noah Kent for as long as I lived there, I changed it the moment I left. Anyway, some of the children got adopted, but I was so traumatized that when I was over it, people had forgotten, so I was stuck in the orphanage with the leftovers. So now you know.”

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“So what are you? A clone of a human?” Roks poured himself another glass.

“No, and yes, They took genetic material from my mother and father's donors and created me. I’m not a clone of them; I’m genetically a child with no physical or heritable defects, so I don’t have a clone status. I'm human, just made in a lab.”

“Wow, not what I had expected. So the nightmare is about that?”

“Yeah, it comes and goes. It got worse when I started having slaves.” He looks at Roks, who suddenly understood.

“Ohhh... so my bad? And no cloning, right?” Roks said.

“We only buy if we can rescue somebody and not to help create a bigger market. As for clones, I’m okay with cloning animals, but once we have a few, they will get to reproduce the old-fashioned way.“

“I can understand that. We need to find some humans as well. Maybe get you a wife?” Roks said as he poured Adam another drink.

“Ha! Find a human out here? Good luck. Now let's drink. I don’t want to think anymore tonight.”

“You should get some music up here and a bartender,” Roks said as he looked at the empty bar.

“Jork said he could build one. But yeah, get somebody to print some speakers and stuff.”

“We can ask the students to do it. It seems to be something for the young ones,” Roks replied. Adam grinned. “Hey, I’m not that old. I’m only 27,” and emptied his glass, then he turned to Roks.

“So, what about you? Why did you leave the military? Was it because of your sister?” He ask and Roks nodded slowly.

“I arrested her and Vorts, trying to save their lives; I knew a kill order had gone out; they got my brother and were going after her. So I arrested them publicly to save my family’s honor and theirs.” Sighted then finished his drink.

“Your brother? I’m sorry, so you left to protect her? They don’t look too pissed up about it. Why?”

“If I had not arrested them that day, then they would have been killed the next, and our families would also lose status; it was enough that we lost my brother. This way they went from enemies of the state to exiled slaves instead. I gave the government the opportunity to make a show of them, banished and enslaved, never to return home. In their eyes, that is the harshest punishment they can give. Then I was told I could stay a captain for the rest of my life or seek my fortune elsewhere, only being allowed ten days per year in the homeworld.” Roks smirked slightly.

“Only an ignorant fool who has never left their home world thinks banishment is a punishment. Kula is a beautiful world, but it is possible to live elsewhere.” He finished his drinks and looked at Adam. “Besides, if I had stayed, I would never have met you.”

“Yeah, you really have bad luck with choosing your friends!” Adam poured them both a glass, and they both laughed.

It took two days for Adam to function again and he swore never to drink again as he crawled out of the bed. Adam remembered sending one of the Maidy droids for more drinks, but he doesn’t remember much. At one point, Kina came to drag Roks to bed. He thinks she stayed a while to listen to him and Roks discuss something. He had no idea what they had talked about.

Adam got out of bed and showered before going to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Vara appeared to have told the droids to tell her when he was up, and she quickly arrived to give him a full medical check-up. Then she yelled at him for poisoning himself and her brother. In her mind, alcohol was only to be used in moderate amounts. Adam had to promise not to try and kill himself with whiskey again. Which he had agreed to; next time, it would be tequila. She didn’t like the joke. She gave him something for the hangover, and it vanished after a few minutes. Apparently, she had tried to give him this earlier, but the door was locked, and his droids had been ordered to shoot anyone who tried to enter. Adam laughed as he realized just how drunk he must have been. He went to the administration and found it filled with life. The kids, students, and Vorts were at stations at ten in the morning. Jork was at the life support department installing a new machine. Outside were ten cubes of ice; each cube was about five times five meters.

“What is that?” He asked, nursing his cup of coffee.

“Frozen nitrogen, don’t worry, they are in a forcefield. We are testing out concepts. Besides this, we need our life support and the fields.” Vorts explained. “We used Dream to pick it up. Jork is working on an insane idea.”

“Oh, so he is allowed to have insane ideas?” Adam replied, and Vorst nodded.

“Yes, he is an engineer; you’re not, " he replied, and Adam did not argue against that, so he sat down.

“Okey, it’s time we named the planets of the system. We got Dirt. “He brought up the scan of the system. It showed three planets. There was one closer to the sun than Dirt. After Dirt was the asteroid field, then came a gas planet followed by a mega rock planet and a bigger gas planet, or more a giant asteroid field they had not really explored much off.

“its time to name the rest.” He said. A girl whispered to the other kids and all the kids burst out laughing. Adam looked at them.

“You got an idea?” She blushed immediately as he asked. He recognized the shyness even if she was a Wossir. Some things are universal.

“She had a name for the Gas giant.” Her brother replied with a grin.

“Well, let's hear it?” Adam said, and without hesitation, the boy replied. “Onic!”

The students turned and looked at Adam and shook their heads in panic, and Vorst started to laugh. That decided it for Adam so he added the name to the gas giant.

“Eh, Sir? Do you know what Onic means?” Kinita Sumina asked carefully, as the kids roared with laughter.

“No, but I guess it’s something the kids find funny.” He replied and Kinita looked at the kids and back at him.

“Yes, it means fart. As in pass gas, but Onic means a stinky fart. Are you sure that’s a good name for such a planet?”

Adam looked at the kids and started to laugh. Vorts looked at the students. “Humans have a weird sense of humour. I think we should get the kids out before we name the rest, or all the names will be just as bad.” Then he got up and ordered the kids to the kitchen for ice cream. The bribe worked, and soon, there were only adults in the room—well, adults and Adam.

They discussed the name, and after a while, they had a list. The moons would be named later, and the planets would be named later. For now, they were moons of the planets they orbited. Adam looked at the list. He had written down what the names meant as well. At least he had done some work today if naming was work.

Sun – Doumu ( Chinese godess of the stars)

1. planet – Pele ( Hawaiian goddess of volcanoes and fire)

2. planet – Dirt

Asteroid field ( Daren field – Field of the dead in Haran)

1 Gas Giant – Onic (Stinky Fart in Wossir language)

3. planet – Yamar ( God of the cold mountains in Tufon religion)

4. Gas Giant – Hanori (Perfume in old Wossir)

Large Asteroid field (Xan-bo field (secret treasure in Ghorts))

He looked over the list one last time, then got up to leave as Mir-Na approached him. “Sir, as you know, we have made reports to the library, and when they heard Jork Wirk was here, then they asked for permission to visit and speak with you. Partly to see our works and perhaps buy him from you.”

Adam pinched the bridge of his nose. “What did you tell them?”

“That we had to ask you first.” She replied, and Adam smiled slightly.

“Good. I want to talk to Jork about it first, and if he agrees, then we will pick them up. We have to be a little careful now, as the last family we rescued might have gotten us into a dispute with some pirates. This reminds me: The oldest girl, Skee Laf, has a master's in Ocean biology. She might be of use to you guys as the lakes start to form.”

Then he excused himself and went to find Jork; he didn’t like the idea of visiting professors; they tend to talk too much.