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!”