Page 2 of Submission

“Doctor Sims, thank you for gracing us with your presence.”

“I apologize for my tardiness.”

Director Nilsson didn’t bother to acknowledge her response. He’d made his point, publicly embarrassing her while asserting his authority. Lexi had just turned forty-six, and he seemed especially threatened by young people like her.

Devoted to advancing scientific knowledge, the board was made up of stodgy, middle-aged researchers, most of them in their nineties. They treated science like an ancient religion, refusing to consider the possibility that there were any laws in the universe other than those they already held sacred.

She was willing to bet none of them had had an original thought in half a century. Unfortunately, since the Federation had no compulsory retirement age, she could be stuck with Nilsson as director of the Hall of Science for another forty or fifty years. She sighed and resolved to find some way to get along with him.

Nilsson picked up where he’d left off, droning on about the importance of their mission. Lexi had heard it all at least twenty times before, and her thoughts strayed to the scene she’d just witnessed. She guessed the couple lurking in the corridor belonged to the new movement she’d been hearing about. Dedicated to restoring the ancient way of procreation, one still practiced by the primitive people of Neodyma.

Kaden, Neodyma’s newest ambassador to the Federation, created a firestorm when he and his Earth-born wife Amanda Norris openly shared information about and even displays of their physical expressions of love. They’d been the talk of the Interstellar Federation, hosted at one glittering reception after another when they visited Earth as a couple. People were both fascinated and repelled by the details of their life on the Blue Planet. Especially the sex.

It wasn’t long before an intense debate sprang up. Popular entertainers looking for publicity claimed they’d actually engaged in sex while top scientists and Federation leaders issued dire warnings about the dangers it posed.

Physical intimacy had died out centuries ago on Earth. When they reached the age of thirty, youngsters were taught to achieve climax alone, through electro-holographic stimulation. Efficiently and mechanically, on a regular schedule, without any of the distracting emotional trauma early humans endured in their quest to feed their ceaseless sexual cravings.

Controlling humanity’s biological urges became the goal of scientific research. For the last three hundred years, every citizen on Earth received regular doses of synthetic hormones to suppress the body’s production of estrogen and testosterone. The primitive erotic cravings that once tempted men and women to behave rashly disappeared, as did the threat of unwanted pregnancy that led to dangerous overpopulation.

If a couple chose to procreate, they designed and conceived a child artificially, in a sterile lab where the infant could spend its first months of life closely monitored by the latest technological devices. After two years, they’d be presented with a healthy toddler free of genetic defects — a far better system than leaving a child’s fate to the old-fashioned rolling of DNA-laden dice known as coitus.

Like all Earthers, Lexi learned about the archaic custom of sexual intercourse in ancient history class. Her instructors made it sound like a messy and uncomfortable way to handle procreation and reminded students how fortunate they were to live in modern times.

But with the influence of the Neodyman culture creeping in — not alien, but not wholly Earth-based either — it hadn’t taken long before the younger generation did what their ancestors had always done, seizing on a new way to shock and revolt their elders. They’d begun embracing, holding hands, even kissing right out in public like the couple she’d seen. It was rumored that rogue lab techs had found a way to neutralize the effects of the synthetic hormones, allowing the body’s crude erotic urges to resurface. One tabloid even claimed a naturally conceived fetus was in gestation somewhere on Earth.

Devon poked her in the ribs, and she snapped back to attention.

“All be fitted with a Tellex chip. It will render you fluent in any language after a few hours of exposure to it. Your brain will seamlessly shift from one archaic dialect to the next, allowing you to communicate with any barbarian cultures you may come in contact with.”

“Told you,” Devon whispered. “Bet it’s also a tracking device. Who knows, they may have included a switch that will turn our brains into mush, just to make sure none of us go rogue like Commander Norris did. They can’t have another scandal like that — a high ranking officer choosing a backward planet like Neodyma over Earth.”

Lexi shushed him, unwilling to incur further displeasure from Director Nilsson.

“As you know,” the director droned, “modern communication devices can’t survive the bombardment of electromagnetic forces unleashed in the portal. Rather than trust your mnemonic skills to store information, you will need to record your field notes using a method that’s been obsolete here on Earth for centuries — inscribing words on sheets of paper. We’ve secured a supply of paper from the Federation’s archives, and you’ll each have an opportunity over the next few days to familiarize yourselves with these recording devices.”

He held up a slim yellow cylinder about six inches long with a point at one end. Several people in the room tittered. Nilsson allowed the ghost of a smile to flicker across his face.

“I know, I know. It seems woefully archaic, but pencils and paper have proven the most reliable way to transmit data through the Star portals.”

His smile disappeared. Lexi hadn’t known his voice could become any more somber.

“I must warn you, many of the behaviors you will witness on Neodyma will shock you. The inhabitants live like barbarians, eschewing all modern advances in technology, including our ability to regulate our base physical urges. No doubt you’ve all heard by now of one of their most disturbing practices. They engage in bizarre forms of physical contact, including” — he paused dramatically, his face wrinkling into an expression of disgust— “sexual intercourse.”

“I tell you this now since, as field scientists, you may have occasion to witness some of their gross primitive behaviors firsthand. If so, there is no need for alarm. Earthers are genetically superior to the inhabitants of Neodyma. They will be wary of you, unwilling to engage you in any type of physical contact, whether it be combat or coitus.”

“You have another safeguard,” he assured. “Your Tellex chip will allow you to reject any improper request or suggestion in their own language. Just say no.”

What if I don’t want to say no?

Chapter Two

The wicked thought popped into Lexi’s head unbidden. The young woman she’d seen hadn’t said no — and it looked as though she very much enjoyed what followed.

Lexi had never been kissed. Or fondled or hugged. Or even touched by another human being since she was a toddler, except for approved physical contact like a handshake or a pat on the shoulder. She forcibly dismissed the thought, driving it out of her mind. If the psychological evaluators decided to do one last mental scan and picked it up, she’d be cut from the team.

She’d worked hard to be included in this groundbreaking mission. On Neodyma she could study firsthand the long-term effects of technological intervention on various life forms by comparing them to their counterparts on the primitive planet.

A biologist with a doctorate in genetic algorithms, she’d spent countless hours on an evolution simulator. Now that Neodyma had agreed to open their tech-free world to a carefully chosen team of Earthers for scientific study, she’d be able to test her theories in real-world situations. She was determined to let nothing stand in the way of the opportunity to get out of the lab and into the field.

---