“Technically speaking, all humans can survive in space unassisted, but the obstacles to overcome are many. And I’m not talking about oxygen or water, but heat. Space is hotter than we give it credit for.”
-Erik Ericson, 2092, Our Newfound Immortality
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I knew I was capable of overruling Sandra with ease, she was my assistant, not my mother. But it felt wrong doing so. Not only because she was right, but because it felt like overruling a human. Virtual intelligences may not be humans, but breaching what should be human rights made me feel awful.
The Terra Nova Enclave was colossal, and the were many public spots I could go to meet people. Forums, gardens, arcades, galleries… Maybe not endless, but I did have many options at my disposal. Options I didn’t want to take. I wasn’t Mérida, I couldn’t just walk next to someone and talk with them, that would be weird.
I identified subhu… students strolling around the corridors, but they ignored me. If I were unevolved, they would have probably recognized me. If not from my achievements, then by the speech, as all of the students of this generation had been present. Unlike Earth and Mars, natality had been low in Alpha Centauri, whether it was on Proxima b or other settlements.
My first destination was the gardens. Plants behaved especially in space as there were a lot of factors that were different from solid ground, even if we tried to simulate them as closely as possible. Gravitation fields were identical to common gravity and things like soil nutrients and humidity were easily reproducible. Humanity has been doing that for basically millennia.
There were multiple ecosystems contained in the gardens. Some were more botanical in nature than others, one's pure tropical jungles, whilst others were measly greenhouses.
All seeds were originally from Earth, like all others from Alpha Centauri. But the differences were obvious. Even if the current botanical garden was supposed to recreate the rainforest of Earth, the differences were many from the real deal. Space was a key factor, but even most importantly, the lack of animals. If humans already had problems working around the intricacies of space, animals had that difficulty increased a hundredfold.
No insects, no pollinators, no predator-prey interactions.
An ecosystem is a mixture of many elements. Even the harshest deserts had their fauna. Yet here there was only flora.
The sight made me sadder than happier, no matter how many studies said that vegetation and nature had a good influence on us. I was cosmopolitan and preferred machines to nature, even if I was a coward who kept his body instead of turning into a machine. Most of my sadness was but the realization that it would be impossible for me to bring that life into my tycoon. The problem wasn’t the seeds, I could engineer them myself, no transport was needed, but the many resources needed for flora to take hold of the soil. I vanished my thoughts and focused on the botanical gardens.
I wasn’t alone in this section of the garden, a man sat in front of a tree with a canvas as he painted a half-naked woman. I could see clear modifications of biological origin – shapeshifting – in the woman, but I decided to not interrupt them. Clearly out of respect for the classic style pose painting, and not because I was intimidated by them.
The clock in my interface showed me that I had only been wandering around for an hour, there were still 2 hours more before the probes arrived at Centrum. The numbers showed “12:32” but it was impossible to tell when day and night were up here. Everyone followed their own clock. I looked at an information post at the botanical gardens and found that they followed the same time schedule as Earth. Not really helpful for me, but a 24-hour clock was better than none at all. Being tidally locked all your life did that to you.
Like a responsible person, I walked with one eye browsing tycoon guides. I took them with a grain of salt as technically everyone was an ‘enemy’ in Project Tycoon, but there were some useful tips. And talking about salt, I found a good power plant alternative for locations without water.
“Molten salt reactors, huh?” I read the theory and even got my hands on a blueprint. Not that I could interpret it with half of my focus. “Damn, in hot planets it may be optimal. What a shame I’m around a red dwarf and there’s no liquid salt around already. Still, useful for Extremus as it won’t be able to sustain solar or wind energy plants.”
The problem with Project Tycoon was that there was no one solution to a given problem. Many technologies have been invented and theorized for extreme niche situations, and depending on the many variables of space, maybe a weird discovery from three centuries ago was more useful than state-of-the-art technology. Not that I could afford that on a recently built tycoon though.
Looking at where I was walking, I realized I made my way to the central axis of the space station. I walked around like a tourist, doing window shopping, seeing what the locals offered, and such. I hated that I wasn’t tired, otherwise I would have just dozed on my bed.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
“Maybe I could drive a spaceship to distract myself, surely there are services like those on here.” As a student living on a planet, I couldn’t afford to race in space, but I was now in space. Even if I had less money to my name.
I promptly ignored that thought, no matter how amusing it could be. If the girls discovered I went space racing without them, there was a non-zero chance they may kill me.
Not gonna lie, understandable.
If going alone on kart racing already made them angry, it was justified to be bloodthirsty over spaceship racing.
“Excuse me.” I turned my back to look at a male student. He was short, but not as short as I had originally been.
I wondered for an instant what he wanted then I realized that I was blocking the way to an elevator.
“Oh, sorry. Go on.” The student nodded and shyly passed next to me.
It was weird seeing that type of behavior when I had just woken up today as a human myself. Not that he knew.
“What was I doing here?” I blinked a few times trying to refresh my mind. “Oh, right. Shapeshifting.” I hadn’t done it on purpose, I swear. It just happened. “I guess this is enough procrastination. I should look for help. Maybe. Perhaps…”
Gravity disappeared and I pushed myself upwards.
I didn’t have the courage to speak with random strangers, nor the balls to ask Mérida to do it for me, so I decided on the third option.
Logical fallacies!
If I couldn’t talk with random strangers, then I could talk with random acquaintances!
This is definitely the sound logic of one of the most influential humans in recent history at the peak of his mental health.
Anyhow, I made my way to Gloria’s shop.
“Welcome, welcome!” Gloria hopped her way across the shop. “Oh, it’s… you.”
“You have forgotten my name, right?” I raised my brows.
“To be fair, you never told it to me. I just saw it in the transaction petition.”
“Understandable.” I nodded. I certainly didn’t remember the name of the chef in the restaurant even if I had gone there a few hours ago. Did I even hear the name? I wasn’t sure. “Lorem,” I added.
“Lorem! Yes, yes!” Gloria clapped her four hands at the same time, a bright smile shining in her visage. “What can I do for you, Lorem? I haven’t even begun with your tunic, if that was the petition? Or is it that you want to return the yukata? Is it not to your liking? Or maybe you are the type of person that fools their friends, only to make them happy with purchases, only to return them later?”
I was partially overwhelmed by the gatling gun of a woman, but I knew how to deal with this type of person. “Complicated. No. No. Yes. No.” I responded to all her questions.
“Wait, is that a ‘yes, it’s to my liking’ or a ‘no, it’s not my liking’?” How did she follow that? If I hadn’t control of my expression, exasperation might have busted out of me.
“It’s a ‘yes, it’s to my liking’,” I responded with a sigh.
“Oh, wonderful!” The seamstress embraced herself with her lower arms and raised the top ones in exaltation. “Then why are you here, it’s about this ‘complicated’ thing you mentioned?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “I would like to have your… advice with biological humans.”
“Kyaa!” Gloria led her upper hands to her cheeks as she reddened and started swaying her body erratically. “I understand! You are at that age of course! You want to know what your body can do! So you see, when a man and a woman love themselves very much…”
“Stop right there.” My voice was devoid of any emotion known to mankind. “Not that type of advice. And besides, why are you talking to me as if I was a six-year-old about the birds and the bees when I have advanced Biology knowledge?”
“I can’t know that, can I?” The four-armed tailor continued squirming like an excited teenager. Her frilled princess-like dress hopped around in distress. How old is she exactly? Minimum forty, I thought. She was wearing a pink frilled dress with a short skirt, many ribbons on her hair and dress, and different socks on each leg. ‘Gloria’s Extravaganza’ indeed.
I sighed. “I was going to ask for your help about shapeshifting as you seem so proficient in it, but I will take my chances elsewhere.” Then turned my back.
“Wait!” Gloria raised her voice.
Hook, line, and sinker. I held my smile. Gods, I love reverse psychology. Mérida always buys that shit.
“So you are interested in shapeshifting?” I turned on my heel to face Gloria.
“Yes,” I didn’t give her much to play with. “I am an Influential, so I would like to have reliable access to my biological properties.”
“I see, I see.” Her hands started doing a myriad of things independently from each other, mainly senseless gestures. The intention behind that display was obvious. “But why I should help you? I have my own life?”
I ignored how she spoke the last statement like a question. “How about to help a fellow human?”
“I don’t know, I’m not an altruistic person.” Nor a subtle one.
I sighed. “What do you want?”
“Well…” Gloria hit her four index fingers against each other in a suspicious manner.
“Actually, I think I’m fine.” That couldn’t be any good.
“Wait, wait!” She extended her arms toward me as if to catch me, but she respected my personal space. “It’s nothing bad, I swear!”
“I’ll bite. Do tell.” Something told me I was going to regret it.
“So you see, I’m a seamstress, you know?” I mumbled in affirmation. “But I don’t have much success, my clothes are niche. Most of my customers are whales, disposed to expend much in their extravaganzas, and I’m fine with that, don’t get me wrong. But that means I can’t really do this for myself… So I thought, if I maybe, perhaps, got a model…”
I deadpanned.
Gloria frowned. “You know, with those rock expressions, I don’t think you really need shapeshifting classes.”
“Really!” I led my hands to my face and opened my jaws wide with a smile in a faux cutesy expression. “So I’ll take my leave!”
“Kidding, kidding! Please, let me finish!” Gloria seemed like she was going to cry, but I knew enough people to recognize fake tears. Or rather, the right people. The seamstress to a deep breath, two hands on her chest and another two clasped together before her crotch. “Please be my model!”
Ding, ding, ding! That was the sound of regret.