The automatic doors opened with a slight, barely audible hiss as they slid into the walls on either side of the doorframe, allowing two people to step through before gliding closed once more. The first was a man in a bulky, bland, and strangely featureless space suit. The second was a girl with coiling raven locks, eyes that swirled with the un-light of the abyss beyond reality, and a childish grin upon her pale lips. All around them was a vast yet orderly network of conveyor belts that carried products in various stages of completion to and from dozens of precisely calibrated manufacturing machines. The air rumbled with buzzing and clanging noises that seemed to carry a rhythm of their own. It was a song of industry and efficiency, a chorus most pleasing to the otherworldly entity of order.

“And this is the third-stage assembly room,” Joe pointed out. “It’s where I take the alloy plates, high-density superconductors, and micro-servos from the upper floors and have them put together into thruster frames. I wind up with a lot of shavings and other byproducts that I just funnel over through there and back into the smelting plant I showed you earlier to get the most of the raw materials.”

Maggie nodded vigorously as she followed along with his explanations. She normally wasn’t a big fan of virtual simulations since they were very surface-level. After all, could it truly be called a faithful reproduction of reality if it didn’t feature accurate atomic structures of various types of matter? Absolutely not, at least by the Observer’s impossibly high standards. However, there was something strangely satisfying in the way this game called Astral Engineers did things. It wasn’t trying to emulate the real world, but rather presented an intentionally simplified and idealized version of it. Machinery didn’t break down, fuel and materials were always delivered on schedule, and there were never faults or defects in the manufactured items.

Rather than a simulation, it was more accurate to call this virtual reality an elaborate play - a work of art that used the game as a stage and its mechanics as actors. What made this ‘piece’ extra special was that Joe had made it specifically for Maggie. The man had poured hundreds of hours into it over the course of several weeks, struggling to master the title’s systems and production lines despite their intricacies and complexities. He put in all that effort for no reason or recompense other than seeing the girl he loved smile. He was certainly getting his money’s worth on that front, so to speak. The wondrous smile plastered on her lips hadn’t faded since he began the grand tour, and Joe himself bore a dumb grin of his own under his helmet’s opaque visor. His smile couldn’t be seen, though it could definitely be heard.

“So, yeah,” he rounded off his explanation. “After that’s done, the thrusters are taken down to the final assembly line where the shuttles are put together. What do you think?”

Maggie responded by throwing her arms around him and planting a huge wet smack on his visor.

“I love it. You really did an incredible job.”

“Ah. Ahah,” Joe laughed nervously, not sure how to take the compliment.

The girl had omitted ‘for a mentally stunted human’ from the end of her otherwise honest assessment as she judged that would be an insult to all the effort and care he had poured into it. He had even gone out of his way to create something that produced spacecraft, a subject Maggie had shown a vested interest in. The girl was a bit sceptical at first since he insisted on keeping this as a secret until it was finished, even going so far as to make her promise she wouldn’t peek. Having her curiosity build up for so long only made the big reveal all the more satisfying, which was in itself a rather unexpected turn of events. It turned the whole affair into a bit of a learning experience since it was the first time the Observer had ever anticipated something this much.

“Well, I’m glad you liked it. I’ll send you a copy so feel free to just hop in here and watch the assembly line churn whenever you need to relax, okay?”

“I shall endeavor to do so. Thank you again,” she planted another kiss on his helmet. “Can we actually fly the vessels produced here?”

“Uh… I don’t think so, no. It’s not a flight sim.”

“Oh,” disappointment flashed across her face.

“But they have the same model in Underwater Yoga Blaster, we can take a joy ride there if you want,” he offered.

“No, that’s alright. Let us simply remain here and soak in the fruits of your labor.”

“If you insist.”

The couple then proceeded to virtually cuddle underneath the chorus of industry. Normally such interactions were rather unsatisfying, but Joe was dating what was essentially a techno-wizard. He wasn’t sure how or what Maggie had done, but he could clearly feel her warm-yet-cool touch on his skin even though she was pressing against his virtual space suit. Even those kisses were frighteningly close to the real deal. However, Joe didn’t dwell on the details and simply enjoyed the moment that seemed to drag on for hours.

*Ring-ring*

The impromptu cuddling session inevitably drew to a close when the ringing of the couple’s actual doorbell was relayed into the digital world.

“Jeeves, can you check who that is?” Joe asked aloud.

“At once, sir.”

The couple remained firmly on the digital factory floor while their auto-butler carried out his meet and greet protocols.

“Sir, you have a visitor, one Margaret Mulligan. Shall I let her in?”

“… Bugger,” Joe mumbled. “I forgot mum was visiting today.”

Maggie looked up at him and raised an eyebrow quizzically.

“What?” he shrugged. “She told me like, two weeks ago. A lot of stuff happened since, okay?”

“You misunderstand. I am not questioning your forgetfulness. I am merely curious as to what sort of human would have produced you.”

“Oh. That sounds kinda mean.”

“I did not intend it as such.”

“I know, just saying. Anyway, let’s go greet her before she gets mad.”

Joe and Maggie emerged from their mutual VR pod within moments. The apartment had several of these so the two of them no longer needed to share, but neither of them saw that as a reason to stop. The man stretched lazily as he walked over to the front door with his cosmic sweetheart following close behind. Jeeves was hovering in the hallway, patiently awaiting a response to his question of whether he should let the guest in.

“Jeeves, do I look presentable?” Joe inquired, overriding the standby.

“Not in the slightest, sir. You’re dressed in your pajamas, your hair’s a mess, and you have some dark smudges around your mouth.”

“Huh?”

The guy looked at himself in the mirror. The clothes and hair were one thing, but the stains on his face worried him somewhat. He had no idea what they were or how they’d gotten there. They certainly weren’t there when he brushed his teeth this morning, and he’d been in the pod ever since. His bewilderment lasted until he caught a glimpse of Maggie’s smirking reflection. More specifically, of the black lipstick she had been wearing for the past few days at Joe’s request.

It now suddenly made sense why those virtual kisses felt so real.

“Napkin, sir?” Jeeves offered.

“Please.”

The raunchy evidence was quickly wiped away without a trace. Whether the ease of cleaning was due to the excellent space-age fabric of the napkin or the mind-boggling amount of research and development that went into that lipstick, Joe could not say. Nor did he even ponder the matter. The stain was gone, which made him look good enough to greet his own mother. Yes, he was still wearing his PJs and had terrible bed-head, but he didn’t see either of these as issues. Despite Jeeves’ earlier comment, such a look was a sign of success, not slovenliness. Very few people had real beds to sleep in, after all.

Or at least that was the explanation Joe planned to give his mum if she questioned why he and Maggie were still in their sleepwear even though it was already noon.

Opening the door revealed a relatively unremarkable middle-aged woman. She had short brown hair just like her son’s, which was styled in a neat bob cut that made one think the next words out of her mouth would be a demand to see a manager. Her face said otherwise, however. She had soft, round eyes, deep laugh lines around her lips, and a somewhat large nose hovering over a pleasant smile. Her frame was short and thin, wrapped in a casual pink blouse and a pair of RetroStyle™ jeans. All in all, there was absolutely no doubt that this was indeed Joe’s biological mother. The two looked so alike they could easily pass for siblings if not for the age gap.

“Joe!” she beamed. “So good to see you, my boy!”

Margaret stepped forward and hugged her son tightly, pulling his face down a bit so she could plant a wet smack on his cheek.

“Hey, mum,” he wiped his face with his sleeve. “Sorry I didn’t answer sooner, I was showing Maggie some stuff in my VR pod.”

“Oh my, look at you! All grown up and sharing a pod with a girl! To be honest I was starting to worry I’d never see the day.”

“Yeah, same here.”

The two Mulligans shared a light chuckle before the mother moved on to the subject matter of her visit.

“So, you must be Maggie.”

“Uh, mum, please don’t call her that,” Joe butted in.

“What? Why not? That’s her name, isn’t it?”

“Well, no. That’s like, my name for her, and it gets weird if someone else uses it.”

“Oh, pish-posh! What are you, five?”

“It is fine,” the girl interjected. “If she wishes to address me as such, then I will allow it.”

Though she normally got a bit ticked off whenever non-Joe individuals referred to her as ‘Maggie’ rather than ‘Mags,’ she didn’t feel like that with his mother. The two were not only as closely related as they could get, but also so alike that it almost felt natural. Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, the Observer’s humanity had matured to the stage where it understood how unreasonable it was to get upset over people’s misuse of names. It was like getting mad at the sun for rising every morning.

“It is good to finally meet you, Margaret Mulligan,” Maggie offered a handshake.

“And you as well, dearie,” the woman graciously accepted it. “Though… what… what is that?”

She squinted hard, having caught a glimpse of something wriggling within the girl’s ever-folding locks.

“It is merely my pet, Azgod’Kalar the Calm. Come out and say hello, won’t you?”

The orb python gently slithered out from behind Maggie’s neck and onto her shoulder. It then gave Margaret what was indisputably a wave with the tip of its tail before retreating back to its favorite resting spot, much to the guest’s astonishment.

“My word!” the woman gasped. “You know, I’m not a huge fan of snakes, but that is the politest slithery bugger I’ve ever seen.”

“I have been very thorough in my training of Azgod’Kalar,” the girl proudly declared.

“Indeed you have. Now if only you could whip this lazy pillock into shape,” the mother shot her son a sharp glare.

“Hey!” he protested.

“I am working on it,” Maggie declared.

“You are?” both Mulligans exclaimed.

“Indeed. Progress is slow, but it is showing results.”

She rolled up one of Joe’s sleeves to reveal his arm had gained a fair amount of bulk, most of it muscle. The man felt a bit embarrassed having momentarily forgotten he had indeed been working on his constitution ever since his girl got shot. As for Margaret, she didn’t say anything but her face showed she was even more impressed than when she saw the snake wave at her just now. It was as if her twenty-year-old boy was finally becoming a man right before her eyes.

“Can we just get inside?” Joe suggested. “It’s kind of chilly out here.”

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

“Indeed. Jeeves?”

“Yes, Madam?”

“Prepare tea for our guest as soon as possible.”

“Right away, Madam.”

Maggie and the Mulligan family followed the hovering automaton through the hallway and into the sitting room. Margaret quietly gawked and squealed at the simple yet stylish decor and furniture like a little girl at an amusement park. Even though Joe had sent her pictures of it, she had half-expected he was pulling her leg when he said he’d moved into his new girlfriend’s swanky apartment. Finding out it was all real was a bit overwhelming, to say the least. Meanwhile AJ had heard the commotion and, having telepathically requested and obtained the necessary permissions from Maggie, sneaked out of the apartment without the guest noticing. It was perhaps not the best use of her commando training, but she had a hunch that she really didn’t want to stick around for this.

“My word!” Margaret exclaimed as she sat on the sofa. “This place is like a palace! Are you a princess or something?”

“Not in the slightest,” the girl denied.

“Then how in the blazes could you afford this kind of place? You’re not one of them hacker types I hear about on the news, I hope!”

Maggie’s first impulse was to confirm that, technically, yes, she was ‘one of them hacker types.’ Thankfully she instantly realized this might cause a significant misunderstanding and avoided doing so.

“This residence was bestowed upon me by the british government in order to better facilitate my capacity as an ambassador.”

“Oh! Of course, silly me. Joe did say something like that. You’re also a scientist, right?”

“Indeed.”

“My, how absolutely noble. You know, Joe wanted to be a scientist when he was a boy.”

“Muuum!”

“Did he now?” Maggie’s curiosity was piqued.

“Oh, yes! He used to go on and on about how he wanted to invent a biscuit beam.”

“Is that a device that creates biscuits or one that weaponizes them in beam form?”

“Ugh…” he groaned, unable to resist Maggie’s probing gaze. “It was supposed to turn my homework into biscuits.”

The girl couldn’t help but smile at how utterly useless yet monumentally groundbreaking such an invention would be.

“See? My boy’s mind works in mysterious ways, it does.”

“On that we can agree.”

Both of them meant that in the best of ways, though Joe wasn’t too happy about them harping on and on about his intelligence.

“Sadly he didn’t have the aptitude for science and whatnot,” Margaret’s tone grew more serious. “It wasn’t easy seeing him graduate with an ‘Unemployable’ evaluation. His dad took it the hardest, though. Broke his heart, it did.”

The mother flashed the son a stern, almost accusatory glare, to which he reacted with a furrowed brow.

“Mum, for the last time, over ninety percent of kids these days are Unemployable.”

It wasn’t so much that the populace was overwhelmingly stupid, but rather that the requirements to find a full-time job were exceedingly high. Potential hires weren’t just competing among themselves, but also against computers and robots. Only the cream of the crop managed to even get a chance at actual employment, and even then it was usually in the service industry.

“I know, sweetie, but no parent wants to be told their child isn’t special,” the woman said with a sigh.

“What is Joe’s father like?” Maggie changed the subject to one that had caught her interest.

“Oh, he’s the sweetest man I’ve ever met, though he certainly doesn’t look it.”

Margaret yanked on the thin chain around her neck, pulling a small circular locket from under her blouse. She pressed a button on the side, causing it to project a high-resolution holographic portrait of her husband. He had a huge smile, clean-shaven head, slightly dark skin, and shoulders so thick they put the existence of his neck into question. He looked like the kind of guy that was perfectly capable of suplexing a bear. Also, his name was apparently Barry, if the little signature in the corner of the photo was any indication.

“He works in deep space mining, you see,” she revealed. “Places where they can’t rely on drones because of radio interference and whatnot, so they have to send out people in power-suits. It’s a very dangerous job, exhausting, too. Keeps him occupied most of the year, it does. He still tries to do his part as a father, even dreamed about starting one of those father-son enterprises. Sadly Joe was born with my petite frame and wasn’t cut out for the hard life of a deep space miner.”

“Yeah, big tragedy that was,” the son rolled his eyes. “I’ve no idea how dad does it, and I don’t want to know.”

“You show your father some respect, boy! He helped bring you into this world!” Margaret scolded him.

“Ugh…”

“I am confused,” Maggie ignored the interaction. “Does employment not typically come with significant financial gain that would trickle down to one’s immediate family? I ask because neither you nor Joe are above average in terms of monetary resources.”

It was a question that made the mother hang her head low while her son crossed his arms. It was clearly a bit of a sore topic, especially for Margaret, but Joe had far fewer reservations about it.

“He has a gambling problem,” he spilled the beans. “Every poundington he earns he blows on cards, dice, slots, and Queenie knows what else.”

“It helps with his stress,” Margaret defended him. “Besides, it’s not like he needs to send us anything. This isn’t some frontier colony where people have to worry about safety, food, or shelter.”

“No, mum, I know. It’s just that, we only see him two weeks out of the year, and we have nothing to show for it other than a fancy locket. You had to raise me all by yourself. That just isn’t right.”

“I know, Joe,” she sighed. “I wished he was around more, too, and I know for a fact he feels the same way.”

“So why doesn’t he quit?”

Margaret looked at the girl as if she had just suggested that they assassinate the Queen.

“Don’t be absurd! Do you know how difficult it is to land even a mining job?!” the mother raised her voice.

“Actually, Maggie has a point,” Joe backed her up. “If dad loses any money he earns to cope with the stress of his job or whatever, then what’s the point of him working there in the first place? Why doesn’t he just come live here in Dave-156 like the two of us?”

“He’s… well…” Margaret’s eyes swam as if looking for a way out. “He’s just really prideful. And thorough. Work ethic and all that. Won’t leave unless he’s fired or retired. That sort of thing.”

“Margaret Mulligan,” the girl spoke coldly. “We both know that is not true.”

“How dare you accuse me of lying!” she was outraged.

“Mum. Maggie’s never wrong. Tell me what’s really going on,” Joe demanded to know.

The woman clearly wasn’t used to dealing with the more forceful and assertive person her son had become in recent months. While part of her was proud that he’d finally found some balls, she was less thrilled about being pressured like that. The swirling abyss of Maggie’s unblinking glare certainly made it even more difficult to keep up the charade now that it had been ousted.

“… Alright, fine. You were bound to find out sooner or later,” the woman relented. “Barry isn’t doing the deep space mining thing by choice. Not anymore. He was actually going to quit when you were born, was looking forward to it ever since I got pregnant. But, well, there was a huge accident, a lot of people got hurt, millions of poundingtons were lost, blame got thrown around and… your dad caught the worst of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“He was convicted, Joe. Fifteen counts of gross negligence. The reason he’s not sending money home is because he was sentenced to thirty years of hard labor.”

“I… I don’t understand…” the color drained from the son’s face. “What about his two weeks off a year?”

“Home visit privileges for good behavior.”

“And the gambling thing?”

“He… insisted we tell you that. Didn’t want you growing up thinking he was a criminal.”

“So instead I grew up thinking he was a deadbeat?!” he raised his voice. “How is that any better?!”

“At least you didn’t worry about him!” she snapped back. “Do you have any idea how many sleepless nights I spent terrified at what some other inmate might do to him?! And those corporate pricks! The way they work him might as well be slavery!”

“How can I know any of that when you never told me!? And now I hate you even more for keeping that from me too!”

Margaret stared at him with a face of utter disbelief, tears welling up in her eyes and a hand on her gaping mouth. Seeing her like that made Joe instantly regret saying what he did, but words spoken aloud could not be taken back.

“Look, I didn’t mean that,” he tried to anyway. “I was just expecting a nice chat over tea and bikkies, not being told that my dad’s been a convicted criminal for all my life. This is just… it’s too much.”

His apology didn’t help. His mother was already sobbing quietly into a napkin. Joe sat next to her and did everything he could to comfort her. Meanwhile Maggie remained as she usually was, calmly and quietly observing the interaction. Thankfully the mother-son duo were able to work things out fairly quickly. Joe was never one to hold a grudge, and Margaret seemed strangely relieved and refreshed to have gotten that weight of her chest.

“I’m so sorry, Joe. I really am,” she said once she’d calmed down. “We didn’t know what else to say to you when you were just a little boy, and by the time you were old enough to understand…”

“It’s okay, mum. I get it,” he reassured her. “I don’t like it, but I get it.”

“Just don’t think badly of your father. He’s stuck in a bad spot and we tried to make the most of it.”

“I… will try.”

Joe was conflicted. On one hand, he was relieved that his father wasn’t some gambling workaholic that thought his pride was more important than his family. However, finding out he was responsible for some huge accident didn’t exactly paint him in a positive light, either.

“I’m ever so sorry for dragging you into our personal affairs like this, my dear,” Margaret turned to Maggie.

“It is no bother. Joe’s affairs are important to me as my own,” she calmly replied.

“Oh! Such a sensible girl! I’ve no idea what my fool of a boy did to wind up with you, but please be patient with him.”

The man would’ve normally spoken up for himself at this point, but he was still processing the news.

“That need not be your concern,” Maggie reassured her. “If anything, it is your son who has been most patient with me.”

“That’s sweet of you to say, dearie.”

“Say, Maggie?” Joe had an idea. “Can’t you, like, help my dad out?”

“What in the world are you on about?” Margaret questioned her boy.

“Maggie’s got some connections with a few government types. Maybe she can pull some strings, get his sentence lessened or something.”

“I… can you?!” the mother got her hopes up.

“Unfortunately I must disappoint. Such matters are beyond the scope of my contract with the Third British Empire.”

“Ah. Yes, of course…”

“Even if that wasn’t the case,” the girl added, “it is my understanding that the man is serving a sentence for crimes he was found justly guilty of. It would be against my principles to intervene in such a manner.”

“Is he actually responsible, though?” Joe looked to his mom. “Didn’t the corporations just use him as a scapegoat to save themselves legal trouble and stuff?”

“I… wish that was the case. Both the courts and your father felt that the incident was primarily his fault. I don’t remember all the details anymore, but he cut a lot of corners he really shouldn’t have, and it came back to bite him in the arse.”

The married couple had already come to grips with the reality that Barry wasn’t just a fall guy, and did indeed deserve the sentence handed down to him. He never meant for anyone to get hurt as a result of his ‘shortcuts,’ of course, but intent did not absolve negligence.

“Well, in any event, I feel it might be best for me to leave and come back another time,” Margaret rose from her seat. “Again, I feel terrible for bringing all this baggage with me on my first visit, and I hope you’ll have me again.”

“Of course, mum,” Joe reassured her.

“Any time,” Maggie beamed. “Just please, notify me as well so that I might better prepare next time.”

“What, you mean Joe didn’t tell you I was coming?”

“He had forgotten about your visit until you were at our doorstep.”

Margaret sighed knowingly.

“I thought something was up when you two answered the door in those pajamas. I just figured it was some newfangled fashion statement, but I should’ve known Joe was behind it. It boggles the mind where he gets his forgetfulness from, because it’s certainly not from me or Barry.”

“Oh, come on. What’s the big deal? It’s not like you’ve never spaced out on a casual meeting,” the man argued.

“Excuse me? I am your mother. I would like to think I’m important enough to remember! Also, I’m not the one who didn’t show up to class for a week because he forgot summer vacation ended.”

“It was that one time! And what’s wrong with pajamas?!”

“They’re sleepwear for sleeping in, not for greeting visitors,” she firmly stated the obvious. “Oh, but let’s not sour this any further. It was really good to see you in person, my boy, and I’m glad we finally had that talk.”

“Yeah, me too.”

The parent and child hugged it out once more, a bit tighter than before.

“And it was lovely to meet you, Maggie. Please don’t hesitate to contact me should something happen.”

“Come on, mum…”

“Now, now. I may not be some big-brained ambassador with her own palace, but I’ve been around long enough to learn a thing or two about how the world works.”

“I will make sure to seek your wisdom should I require it,” the girl politely accepted.

“Please do. Cheers, then.”

With that, Joe and Maggie waved Margaret off as Jeeves escorted her to the front door.

“Oh, and one last thing,” she said just before ducking out of sight. “I’m pretty sure my old wedding dress will fit you nicely, so don’t hesitate to borrow it when the time comes.”

And then she was gone before Joe could even attempt to interject. Then again, it wasn’t as if he hadn’t given marriage at least a fleeting thought. It was still far too early for that, but it was definitely in the realm of things he really ought to get around to handling eventually. Speaking of which, there was another matter within that repository of procrastination. One that the day’s events had bumped up to the front of the queue.

“Maggie, I have a favor to ask you.”

“Speak it, and I shall strive to complete it to the full extent of my abilities.”

“Woah there,” he raised his hands. “Let’s dial it down a notch. I just need some help overcoming my fear of space flight, preferably without any brain-wavy stuff. Think you can do that?”

“I would be delighted to, though why the sudden change of heart?”

He had been quite adamant about never again leaving Butterpond-4 during the couple’s return trip from Lancaster-3. Not that Maggie was going to complain about this sudden influx of courage and determination, but she was quite curious where it came from.

“Well… I think dad owes me a lot of answers, and since he can’t visit me, I’m going to visit him.”

Maggie’s smile and eyes widened in pleased astonishment. She had heard that familial ties were powerful motivators, but this was the first time she’d seen it firsthand. Her usual, more controlled demeanor returned almost immediately, after which she sat back down on the sofa.

“I comprehend. Then set your head upon my lap and we shall begin immediately.”

“Uh… I did specifically request no brain-wavy stuff, didn’t I?”

“You certainly did.”

“So why should I put my head on your lap?”

“Because I owe you thirty six minutes of pampering for that wonderful gift you showed me earlier.”

“Okay… but how does that relate to my phobia?”

“It is a debt that must be settled before any additional favors can be dispensed.”

“You know you could’ve just asked if you felt like cuddling some more.”

“… I’d like to cuddle some more.”

Joe couldn’t help but shake his head prior to resting it upon Maggie’s thighs.

For being such an invasive busybody and self-proclaimed truth-seeker, the girl was surprisingly prone to hiding her own desires behind technicalities.