In the kitchen she found Horatio. The robot stood in one corner, no doubt exploring some of the local virtual reality games designed for machines such as himself.
She grabbed a glass from a cupboard and filled it with water from the refrigeration unit. She also fetched a pear. The latter was part of a produce delivery that had arrived shortly after Rhea and the others had checked-in: a gift from the owners. The delivery had emerged from a small slot in the wall next to the fridge: the buildings in Centaar were architected with specialized access ports on the rooftops for drone deliveries. A system of elevators and conveyor belts built into the walls transported them to the appropriate rooms.
Rhea sat down on a couch next to Horatio, and the robot looked at her.
“Welcome back to the real world,” Rhea said.
“A part of me never left it,” Horatio said.
“Yes, but the most important part did,” Rhea countered.
She devoured the pear, stem and all. It was nice to have food that wasn’t in pill form every once in a while, even if most of the energy was wasted in this case, considering the pear was mostly carbs. She supplemented the meal with a couple of fat pills from her pocket, downing them with the glass of water.
A woman emerged from the bedroom hallway. Her hair and clothes were disheveled. The right side of her head was shaved, while the left side was long and flowing, as was the custom here among both men and women.
Until now, Rhea hadn’t seen the bare arms or legs of the people here, since everyone she’d witnessed outside wore parkas and thick pants, but this woman had on a skirt and a short- sleeved blouse, revealing ample skin. Rhea was taken aback by how thin her arms and legs were. It was almost as if she was emaciated, yet that couldn’t be the case, because there was plenty of baby fat on her face. Yet her thighs looked almost the same thickness as her biceps, which in turn were a similar size as her forearms. It was almost repulsive.
Then Rhea understood that what she was seeing was a consequence of the lower gravity of this moon. Of course the muscles would atrophy under such conditions, where the tension they were put under was ten times less than what they were designed for. She could only imagine what living here would do to subsequent generations of humans—smaller muscles caused reduced bone mass, stunting growth. That meant the humans who grew up here were essentially stuck on the moon. They could never visit Earth, not without mechanical assists or exoskeletons.
Rhea noticed that the woman’s bounding steps arced much lower than that of her companions; it was closer to the gait typically found on Earth. Which made some sense, given the reduced muscle mass.
The woman smiled sheepishly when she moved by Rhea. She grabbed her parka where it was hanging next to the entrance and quickly ducked into the common hallway outside.
“I don’t know how he finds them so quickly,” Rhea commented to Horatio when she was gone.
“An app,” Horatio explained. “He started pipelining before we left Earth.”
“Pipelining?” Rhea asked.
“Laying the groundwork…” Horatio replied. “Contacting the locals. Arranging rendezvous times.”
“Ah,” Rhea said.
Shirtless, Will bound walked from the hall. His dreadlocks tumbled over his shoulders in wild disarray. He rubbed his eyes, as if the bright light streaming in from the windows bothered him and grabbed an apple from the refrigeration unit.
“When are you going to stop seeing whores?” Rhea asked when he sat lightly onto the couch opposite her. She hadn’t meant for that slight twinge of jealousy to enter her voice.
Will bit into the apple. “Not whores. I use a dating app.”
“Hook-up app, you mean,” Rhea said.
Will shrugged, taking another bite. “Same thing.”
“So, how are they?” Rhea asked.
“The women of this colony?” Will replied. “All right. I admit that having sex in lower gravity allows for some rather interesting new positions. There’s something about having sex with a chick while she’s doing a handstand that I find—”
“Don’t want to hear it,” Rhea said, waving a dismissive palm.
Will nodded. He finished his apple and tossed the core toward the small trash can next to the kitchen counter. The lid opened, accepting the garbage.
“Now that we’re here, what do you actually want to do?” Will said.
“Well it’s clear what you want to do…” Rhea said.
He frowned at her. “Get the genital attachments and you can do it, too.”
“Not with you,” Rhea said.
“I meant with other people,” Will said.
“Good,” she said.
“I would like to know what you want to do as well,” Horatio said. “You were never very clear about it. ‘I want to go to Ganymede,’ was all you would say. Well, we are here. Now what? Are we going to plot the demise of the local Europan government? Or simple engage in some friendly sightseeing?”
“The latter,” Rhea said. “I’m not interested in overthrowing the government. The Europans have done a good job here, as far as I can tell. Why throw away all their good work? They want Ganymede? They shed blood to take it? Then let them have it.” For now. “So. Sightseeing is on the menu among other things. There’s a museum I want to hit. And I heard Centaar has some nice Externals going on at the southern walls of the dome.”
“Externals?” Will asked.
“That’s where people strap on jet packs and a pair of skis, and then slalom down the exterior of the geodesic dome,” Horatio explained.
Will stared at her in disbelief. “You want to jet ski down the exterior of a geodesic dome…”
“What’s wrong with that?” Rhea said.
Will shrugged. “Whatever shoots your pistol.”
She smiled at that, and then glanced toward the kitchen window. It afforded much the same view as her bedroom.
A chime sounded and Will stood up. He bounded to the slot next to the fridge and reached inside. “Here we go.”
He pulled out the package and ripped it open,
