From the image all the way at the bottom, I had an idea. My demi-humans are known for their bioluminescent eyes. Was this young woman just taking a walk from her tent to cup a mouthful of water? About to dive in for a swim? Or maybe…

All things break down. Including civilizations. Including genetics. I began to wonder, what would a tribe of demi-humans be like in a non-technological world? They fact they think fast with quick reflexes would still be a positive survival factor; their ability to see into the Void would be useless. What would they keep; what is discarded? They can talk to one another by touch… do they lose vocal language?

And where did the image happen? Earth? Terraformed Mars? Some other world so far in the future I cannot grasp?

So, just like all the other times, I sat down and started writing. After my nearly ready to release “Ice Inundation Intelligence,” which I knew was a novel from the get-go, this is just me playing with ideas. Could be a short story; a series of them. I, honestly, had wanted to temporally backtrack, that is, fill in some of the gaps of people and event going all the way by to “Echoes of Family Lost,” but this opens six freakin’ years after “I I I.” Fine. Let’s see where it leads, frens.

Enjoy my content? Buy me a beer!

Wearing a greatcoat over his business suit, Robert Hartmann walked to the right of his wife Nadia Hartmann, formerly Countess Nadia Ioannovna, the niece of the current Russian Empress.  She wore a thick, white fur coat, trimmed in ermine.  Her hood was pushed back and her light brown hair caught only a little of the light from the streetlights of the Palace Embankment along the Neva River, in the heart of St. Petersburg, capital of the Russian Empire.

“The wind off the river is freezing,” he muttered in Russian, taking her gloved hand with his.  “You wanted a late-night walk why?”

“To have you to myself, for once.” She didn’t smile.  She rarely did.  “And you will never be a good example to our child if you think this is cold, Prince Hartmann.”

She lay her left hand onto her barely showing belly for a moment before dropping it.

“Your blood is too thin, from your imperium in the old American South.  And, as I said, palace procedures and meetings kept us from talking,” she returned to her point.  “A talk we must have.”

Just before the Gorky House of Scientists, there was a concrete circle that projected out a few feet toward the river.  He eased her there.  Not to sit, that would have made it colder, but to not worry about others passing them by in either direction.  I know where this is going.

“After six years, I am finally pregnant at twenty-four years old,” she began, her breath a fog before her as they looked north at the lights of the Peter and Paul Fortress, not at one another.  “It has taken much research to remedy my condition, including both the Crown Princess, who was a geneticist before being caught up in politics, as well as many from the building just behind us.”

Keeping my mouth shut…

“In that time,” her tone hardened, even for her, “you have had two daughters by that woman.  The first even before we were betrothed.  Yes:  I knew of your, ah, arrangement before we were contracted…”

That’s harsh.

“…and thought, so long as there were children, well, such is common for royal and imperial houses, is it not?”

A deep breath from her and a blast of fog out toward the river’s lights.

“But six years is a long time, Husband.” When she’s not angry, it’s Robert.  Where is she going with this?  Neither of us would be allowed to divorce.  “And in time came your second daughter with… that woman.”

“I want all, well, that’s impossible, I want some of those six years back.” Again her left hand just came up, then dropped.  “For our child.  For me.  I want you here, for us.”

“That’s fine, Nadia,” he gave a smile, knowing it bothered Russians how much imperials smiled.  “We can go anywhere we want once the little prince or princess is born!  In fact…”

“In precise, Husband,” she finally turned to look up the three inches to his eyes, “going anywhere is the problem.  You will go back to her while I recover from childbirth.  Don’t speak!  So, as your wife, I ask.  I cannot demand.  I want her and her – your – children, off planet.”

We can get to the moon in hours, so that’s not…

“Mars.  That woman needs to learn about the terraforming project, anyway.  And her – your – first daughter seems to be one of those people.  Like your mother.”

“For how long?” he asked.

“Three years.  And no sneaking off to visit them; they’re only a week away.”

“Three years!” he exploded.  “My little Lissa won’t know who I am!”

“I,” her eyes and voice dropped, “have barely known you for twice that time.”

Robert had to admit that as one of the Empress’ sons, he availed himself of access to their smaller reactionless motor craft, skipping between the imperium and Russia in two or three hours.  And sometimes to be with Eloise.  And his daughters, Saras and Lissa.

El will wilt and maybe die when she hears this.  But, I understand Nadia’s position.  Is… is there a middle way to all this?  I cannot see one.  Mom and Aurie are both devious and demi-human.  I’ll talk to them.  But, Na – my wife, needs an answer, now.

He took her shoulders with his gloved hands.  It hurt him her eyes were glowing in the night’s reflected lights with tears.

“There are details to work out.  Video calls.  Meeting in a Machine Construct.  And I won’t sneak off, but insist on some physical visits to see my children,” he said in a careful, not command, voice.  “All three of us with all three of them.”

“I agree,” the hard countess of a hard country said.

“One last thing.”

“What, Robert?”

“Her name is Eloise.  Not ‘her.’”

“Yes, Robert.” She leaned her face into his coat.

“Let’s go back to the Hermitage,” he said, turning her about and taking her hand again.  “I’ll cancel everything until noon, tomorrow.  Tonight and until then tomorrow is just for us.”

“Thank you.”

***