THE ANSWER has family situations
I
was of course at that very moment distracted by who had be the most
absolutely unbelievably beautiful womyn I have ever seen. Clad in
what looked to me from the distance of my babe radar to be strands of
glowing multicolored twine that did not hide much of what was
underneath. Her outfit appeared to be well ventilated by the various
gaps in the windings which got bigger as she strode right at me on an
obvious collision course. I intended to take no evasive action. She
got more beautiful by the step all soft brown eyes long blond and
brunette and a touch of warning ramp iridescent blue wrapped in
string that shimmered with multiple states of active data management.
That haute couture stuff don’t hold much memory though, no room for
defense or weapons systems in barely 3 or 4 square centimeters of
fabric total. I contemplated this tiny amount of very expensive very
wired in any literal context clothing and I knew that weapons and
defense are unnecessary to her for her defense was the stunning shock
of her gorgeousness and her only weapon was whatever came next. It
was with surrender to the helpless inevitability of presence that I
made eye contact to draw her to me for she must speak with me. I must
speak to her. Who knows I might get lucky.
“Oh
so you don’t remember me?” Her voice had a SA musical accent that
made me miss the beaches of Rio. She must know me from there.
“I
could never forget a womyn so dazzlingly gorgeous as you!” I
certainly must have been in love with her.
“Paul!
Paul I knew I could count on you! That you would remember and do the
right thing.”
“I...I...
always try to do the right thing you know that!” And I do too…I
do. She drew back from the bear hug she had me in to look deeply into
my eyes.
“Paul
I have missed you so much! I think about you constantly, worry about
your health your safety, are you dancing? Are you singing?…
enjoying life…” I truly still have no idea who this person is.
“I
just spent bout a year and a half asleep in space…not that much
dancing or singing…” I pulled her close to me again speaking
through her fruity smelling hair. Without skipping a nano second she
continued:
“life
is for enjoying…we should have joy…I think of the joy we
shared…the amour and the joy…I was joyful, I am joyful...every
time I look at our son I think of that joyful time we were together…”
She was squeezing the comprehension out of me, or maybe trying to
squeeze the comprehension into me that I really ought to figure out
who she is and when she is talking about. Wait a minute….! “Son?”
And this is the moment that I notice the person that had been walking
behind her was in fact her companion and was stepping forward as if
on cue. This most stupendously voluptuous sculpted faced super babe
dressed in the merest of electronic strings grabbed my face with both
hands nose to nose her breath a bouquet, brown almond eyes beneath
perfect eyelashes featherlike brows locking into my attention like a
screen frozen fashion portrait. I felt a twinge of panic. She was
fully weaponized and aimed locked onto me. “Yes Paul we have a
beautiful son together…” This statement gained my face release.
She turned to the tall quite handsome well toned superbly dressed in
a faux linen euro cut ent heavy pilot suited young man standing at my
elbow lamis. “This is Paul Dvorak! Your Father!” and then she had
me by the face again framed as a portrait of myself by her tanned and
manicured red lacquered fingers. “This is your son Paoulo Dvorak…”
I am released a like child from the grips of an elderly aunt, a crazy
beautiful young elderly aunt. She is a tall pile of beauty as big as
me with my surgically extended legs. Got some grip strength too. I
staggered back a step in recoil. Physical and psychological recoil.
“Whhaa??!!” was the closest to I could get to a clever rejoiner.
Suit was being no help at all. Who is this woman? Oops I might a said
that out loud.
“Oh
my god…” slowly. “Your Father he doesn’t remember me…!!”
Spinally I was prepared, coiled to twist away were she to lunge at my
face again as a tiny image of her appeared across the lami display
right forearm of my suit. Suit had come through and had her ID’d
for me as Serene of Earth News Entmedia. Whom I had had a drunken
date with after a banquet on a moon of Mars. “Mmmaarrss.” I
stuttered out. And so I am hugged by her in reward.
“Yes
darling yes darling Paul. It is I Serene who has always loved you. “
I hug him back. The lug. Gosh. He is the most beautiful guy I’ve
ever met. I remember back that what was it?…6 an a half 7 years ago
huh?… Becky was… then I drunk yeah hmmm right before the war…only
first few days there at MERSC Mars Phobos fuel complex/hotel…she
was a him…anndd.
“Wait
a minute!…. He’s …what?…too old …how can you be my son
when? And…besides…ugh…em. Uh huh.” Hah I had them! Who’s
the young guy? Serene’s new lover? What fun it was getting drunk
with a bunch of Brazilians again. Knowing them as I do, it could be
this young guy is at least fifty. “I only met you six years ago!
And you’re… you know…um couldn’t anyway. We didn’t do
anything that, I mean come on…” I pleadingly looked from on to
other…jokes over.
“There
was enough love between us to produce our wonderful son. And he is
only six years old one week ago!” He looks at me blank faced
rocking lightly back on the heels of his lizard skin deck boots. Like
a child would do. Serene strokes his square shoulder. “Poaoulo…”
she murmurs, “and you did not even send a card!” turning on me
swatting at my defensive anti face grab posture. “What kind of
Father ignores his son!?”
Suits
been busy and whispers in my ear that Paoulo is in fact legally only
six years old. “Thanks Carla.“ The ID produced by his suit
systems is valid! I notice my display shows his birth in space at
Medisat 12, which has also been his address for the first four years
of his growth spurt that has him now at least 2 meters tall. My son
is a canned plus! They cloned my DNA tacked on an extra chromosome
and cloned his/her DNA tacked on some more chromosomes shoved em
together in a vat of goo and now I’ve got a son! What a great
looking kid! I bet he’s good at sports. When he grows up in a year
or two he’ll be eight, nine feet tall by then! He’s got my brains
and athletic physique and her/his beauty. What could I do? I grab my
new sons face in both hands an exclaim proudly:
“My
son! I’ll love you forever!”
