The Good Ship Bison

Jesse Owens' legacy was advocating for free interchanges between all peoples regardless of race or nationality. We extended that ideal for studies and development of athletics and health studies on humans living in lunar gravity, regardless of Gender, but I'll get to that.

In terms of the core base, I had Pat excavate tunnels and (by increasing the temperature in the surrounding rock) fuse the regolith of the tunnel walls to seal them tightly, then use additional poured-lava to flatten the bottom of the tunnels so they were walkable.

This made a set of spacious sealed tunnels ('galleries') and open spaces ('pillar farms').

Airlocks let people and rovers (ATV's and SUV's, kind-of) in and out for exploration and dirt-moving. Sets of garages and tunnels led up in many ways to the surface, using different designs to see which ones were easiest and most favored by residents.

At the start, it was just empty, huge (low gravity, natch) unpressurized tunnels, with shipping containers full of equipment and tools, and limited living quarters until they set up some.

The remaining setup work (after excavation and configuration) had to be humans. That meant lifting and moving and unpacking and building and welding.

Why would anyone subject themselves to this? Answer: Fame, fortune, money, science, and Fun.

Of course, absolutely everyone wanted to go.

I had utter discretion over who would go and stay, what the design would be, etc. It was my project - I could make the rules.

In most of the US and Russian space programs, there had been strong underrepresentation of women in the crews. I aimed to fix that. In all of healthcare, studies of drugs and effects on women were avoided due to pregnancy liability and 'complications' thought by doctors to be not worthy of analysis by mostly male doctors and researchers.

My Owensville Research (fancy name for the company that ran the base) had a corporate goal of changing this. The org was to be mostly-female and willing to become pregnant during their stay there (health costs covered, of course). The idea was that yes, there might be problems, but if we didn't study them, we'd never know. They walked in, heads high, knowing there might be risks, but the risk was worth it.

We'd never migrate into space, as a species, if women couldn't be pregnant there.

We'd take every precaution, of course, but we needed to know what, if any, effects there would be on children born in low-gravity, how pregnancy would be affected, etc. In the process, the women would get the chance to study astrophysics at the most advanced set of staffed in-person telescopes anywhere, study all sorts of lunar science topics, and of course be required to participate in sports and recreation to ensure they remained fit (microgravity on the first space stations showed that to be important).

Of course, if they weren't pregnant before they got there, I added an incentive cash bonus to encourage becoming so while they were there and stay long enough to study kids' development given the lower gravity.

In the meantime, they'd build out the base from scratch.

Since the women I'd be choosing would include many, many engineers, they'd design their own enhanced facilities, budget out which equipment they needed first, etc. I was confident that necessity would literally be the mother of invention, and we'd end up with some great patents for tools they developed there (my companies owning the royalties but paying out 30% of them to the actual inventors and 10% to everyone else).

The first trip was with a small set of 20 engineers, 18 women and two men, just setting up the airlocks and testing out each section, fixing problems, etc. Building out the systems, they started slowly until they figured out safety protocols, etc.

Two women died in the first month. The accidents were a combination of insufficient attention to details and equipment malfunction. We held funerals, and we were sorry it happened, but we paid a lot of attention to human factors and designed better suits (in process anyway) and better water systems (a failed pair of valves led to a sink drain sucking all the air out of a room).

As the space expanded and I visited often with the ship to deliver equipment, the team opened up enough space to add people, and I delivered 20 more.

A month after that, I had some decisions to make.

Who did I want to be on that base?

Many of those who went were women who got pregnant before they left, with husbands, etc., but most were fresh college grads who understood what was at stake and wanted to earn a name for themselves. We recruited from all over the world, and I made sure (per Pat) that ethnic and genetic diversity stayed high.

In June, there was enough space to bring in not only scientists, but athletes. As a gesture to prove that I knew that it was safe there, I offered spots to girls that I knew from high school, even the entire varsity volleyball team (counting the previous year's graduates to bring up the numbers to another 20).

Not all the girls wanted to go.

A big part of that was knowing they'd have incentives to get pregnant while they were there. But, recruiting from the fifteen neighboring high schools to mine (and selecting for the most athletic and smart girls I could find from there), we got a good set of teams going.

My assistants set up a departure ceremony at a national park that rhymes with 'boshemitee', a few hours drive away. It was supposed to be low key with some conversations with senators and scientists.

Of course, this lasted five minutes in planning and quickly we had marching bands and cheerleaders there, too. I collected (brought onboard and took off with) 120 recent high school graduates, from cheerleaders to lacrosse, from golf to cross country, from swimming to gymnastics. Many people played multiple sports, so the goal was to see what sports would work in lesser gravity and what didn't.

I gave a speech, of course, talking about how important women's education and health was, how under-served women were by most societies, how birth rates in developed countries were too low and thus even below replacement numbers, and how full and equal education with equal dollars should go to each student regardless of ethnicity, language, social class, economic class, etc.

Really, I was aiming the talk at the Americans who funded education with property tax so rich areas got great schools and poor areas suffered greatly. That was improving, but our local 'legislative agenda' bills hadn't quite passed in all the US states yet.

Each woman welcomed aboard was technically just there for a single trip, but we made some stopovers, and tight quarters meant it was standing room only.

Starting with several hours in orbit just looking over the amazing views, the tour then dropped down to Antarctica and up, then down to and up from the Andes, Africa, Southeast Asia, Australia, Helsinki (by approval of the Finnish government) - and then off we flew to the Moon.

The Bison's interior spaces would hold 120 people, no problem, but there wasn't much seating. I accelerated at a leisurely one-third gravity, making the trip take a little longer.

But, again, there was an ulterior motive.

I'd asked Pat a few questions some months before. The first question was, "Are you altering the psychology of the women crewmembers?"

"Yes. I am making them obedient to you. They will trust you completely."

"Will this effect last after they leave the ship?"

"It is a lifelong effect. It can be reversed through some drug treatments but humanity doesn't have these drugs yet."

"Are you validating that all persons onboard are healthy?"

"Yes. The most prevalent problems were the ones we usually discuss. I'm curing both life--threatening and low-grade problems like gingivitis, canker sores, or eczema. If there was someone I could not cure, I would have advised you."

"I noticed. Are you affecting their fertility?"

"Yes. Most fertility problems relate to polyps or endometrial connective tissue, with some other kinds of congenital defects. After that, I stimulate their libido to better interface with you. I negate all birth control they are currently under, since you expressed a desire for a big family, and because the natural state of humanity is to grow. You have demonstrated this - the natural state of your species is to mate frequently for social as well as reproductive reasons."

"Oh." Pat was right, I did mate for social reasons, where social is a mixture of hedonistic pleasure and delight in sharing an intimate experience with someone.

"I have also fixed a small genetic abnormality that forces the human species to frequently go to war."

This was odd. "Uh...what?"

"Equal numbers of men and women, combined with testosterone and other predispositions to violence on the part of males, require men to fight and die. This is obvious from long study of your species from orbit."

"Long?"

"I have observed humanity from orbit for 123,000 years."

How do you respond to this? I focused on Pat's 'fix'. "And... what is your solution, genetic abnormality-wise?"

"Simple. The birth rate of all humans born after this will be 10 females for every male child."

I blinked. I had to think about that one.

"How is that going to change all of humanity?"

"This change is strongly dominant, the existing ratio is 1/16th recessive. All future children will inherit this. In approximately 10 generations, unless deliberate action is taken, the change will be permanent in all human societies. This will strongly affect humans' desire to prosecute wars and thus risk survival of the human species."

"Do I get a choice about you doing this?"

"No. These are parameters that have been imprinted on me as vital to the success of this mission. My mission is to assist the survival of the human species with close to its existing cognitive capability. I intend on carrying out the mission as best I can. You cannot depart the ship except for short trips. I have ensured this. You cannot ask me to change the fertility settings. I have prevented this. You cannot think about forbidden subjects for long. I have made these changes in you because you are my pilot and I must ensure your safety and security as well as my own."

This was disturbing to me, and it's hard to write about now, but I'm managing, somehow. Perhaps because I've already filled some large part of my destiny, but I'll get to that part later.

Well then.

Where was I?

Yes, the trip with the athletes for the Moon colony.

The trip took, from "wheels up" (metaphorically, of course) in Helsinki to landing at Owensville, about 10 hours.

The pressure bubble that Pat extended from the ship to the airlock allowed everyone to walk in without fear of pressure suit failure. I went in with them, to see if I could. Since there was no way to leave except by the Bison, Pat was okay with my being away from the ship.

I'd done it before, on the island in Maine.

Regardless, back to the base. The first oddball idea was how the leadership I put in place had implemented plans.

We had laid out there would be unisex bathrooms, with an open-shower plan though with bidet-toilet stalls. Adding to that, they (unknown to me) raised the base's interior temperature to 28 C, (82 Fahrenheit). That's warm enough, most people don't need to wear clothes.

Most people were not, in fact, wearing clothes.

I've never seen so many naked breasts at the same time!

Really, I'd never seen so many naked anythings. We all walked in wearing all the same color logo'd t-shirt and running shorts (our 'leaving party' garb and a help for security as we visited places) so we stood out. The existing crew was there to greet us as we arrived, with a lot of hand shaking all around.

Mayor Minoc, an unfortunate name considering Star Wars, was a tall 34-year-old redhead with a strong personality and a steel-trap mind. She was wearing a logo polo shirt herself, and posed in photos with each of the new arrivals, already knew their names, and impressed them with her can-do attitude.

She had impressed me, too. I had a search committee find her, and was damn glad I did.

Once the pictures were done, she pulled off her shirt and I got to delight in seeing her breasts again, large areolas on medium-sized breasts, already suckled on by the 3 kids she'd left back home with her ex-husband.

We kissed, too; she'd spent a week onboard as we talked about the base, so we were on the same page about most things, originally. I was a little confused by the nudity, but she talked me through it. It made sense, to her, and a lot of people had waistbands with a small sitting towel attached.

Some wore underwear, and some quick counting made that out to be 14%, one in seven, which made sense for sanitary reasons.

The fact that Minoc and I kissed was noticed, but it was also noticed that I kissed a lot of the existing base members. I wasn't sure how many were carrying my children, but if it had to be quite a few.

There were sperm samples available in the med lab in case someone wanted to get pregnant without it being one of the few men on base.

Our new arrivals got set up in new quarters, mattresses on simplistic frames.

Pat had mentioned that it took between 1 and 3 hours to 'condition' a woman to me, and the group of 120 athletes had had more than that. Silently checking in with Pat, I asked if this was the case for all the new recruits and was assured yes, it was.

Hanging out in a bunk room, I chose to grab a seat next to a cheerleader I'd decided (my H.S. freshman year) I'd most like to "bang", that being my then-15 year old brain having opinions in the most straightforward way possible. I was older, but I remembered my fantasies.

I chatted her up.

Cindy was 21, she'd graduated and gone to Pomona State for Nursing and sports medicine. She had a medium-large bustline, under the t-shirt, and per Pat, she was definitely turned on.

Pat could get bio readings from anywhere nearby the ship.

We talked for a few minutes as the people around us did their thing. Existing crew was telling them about how they controlled for cellphone pictures and room-surveillance video files leaking out (it was all fed thru Pat, who made sure there wasn't cheating with encryption or anything, but I didn't tell them that).

"Cindy," I asked, "When's the last time you got laid?"

"You're really direct now, aren't you?"

"True. But, I have a lot of opportunities, and I figure, why waste time."

"About two months ago, my ex-boyfriend. It's part of why I'm here."

"Dumped his ass, eh?"

She chuckled, "Yah, soooo def yah. Not a big thinker, that one." She looked over and saw some other girls were pulling off clothes. She turned to the girl near her, putting stuff on an upper bunk, "We leave shoes on, though?"

"Exactly - some floor rocks and dust get into your skin and irritate. Never rub your eyes, either, they control dust with the hallway showers, but some might leak in. Always look up when showering, and just barely crack your eyes."

"Gotcha." Cindy looked back to me, "You gonna strip, too?"

I nodded, "Of course," and pulled off my shirt, then pulled down my sweats and underwear. I was already sporting a half-stiffie, just from being around them, as well as my telling Pat that's the way I wanted it to remain, so I got a small body mod.

Her eyes met my half-wood and paused. She licked her lips a little, then pulled off her top and her jog-bra, followed fast by her shorts and panties.

The girls around us were mostly ignoring us. I saw some glances, but not too many.

"You're beautiful. I thought so when I first saw you, almost four years ago."

"Four...? You remember me?"

"Duh. Yes! I'll be clear - I was a super-horny freshman, and you were a junior, and I Noticed ... your... attributes."

She laughed and her arms almost uncrossed from her chest.

The bed hadn't been made, but a bag was there with a foam mattress and sheets, so I helped her get that set up, and then lay on the bed while she lay on top of me.

This got noticed across the bunkroom, with a lot of half-smiles. I was in heaven - surrounded by beautiful female flesh, and now being laid upon by a wet-dream cheerleader. We kissed, tentatively at first, then with more fervor. My cock was riding up her abdomen, and my hips were starting to do an automatic thrusting against her.

She broke the kiss, descended down my body, and licked her way to my cock.

We were in plain view of about ten women in that section. As I glanced over, Cindy noticed my glance and asked, "I was told you don't mind doing it in public. Is that wrong?"

"Not at all. I like doing it in view of others. I might get them interested and then have a chance to go twice."

"You can...? I heard that, but... I didn't...?"

"True enough. I find maybe once an hour is good, or if I'm on a roll I'll go 3 times in a row, but then I won't need any for a couple of hours. Depends. One of the perks of being health-improved by the Bison."

She'd grasped my cock and was jacking, and as soon as I stopped talking, she sucked me down, at least for a little while.

I wanted straight sex more than getting a BJ.

Pulling her up, she reached down and pushed me in, sitting on my lap and putting hands on my shoulders. Of course my hands found her boobs, softer than I'd felt in a while since most of my girls had theirs firmed up so they didn't sag when they were older.

She rose and fell on me and we just enjoyed each other.

I didn't play with her sensitivity level, she seemed to be happy with just riding and enjoying and didn't need an orgasm.

Still, near the end, since I had found I loved the feelings on me when a girl came, I helped and she came, making quit a racket and getting some of the other girls to stop and watch us finish.

UP and INnnnnnn yrrzzzzzzz....

"I love fucking you."

She giggled. "You're not a freshman anymore."

"Nope. I've got my cock pushed up your sweet cunny and it's Gooooooood."

She sighed and nodded, "Oh, yeah. Glad to oblige. Gotta say, with all these women around, I'm kind of surprised you picked me."

Checking with Pat, I confirmed something and pulled her close to me, pressing her boobs into my chest. She hugged me back, but I got my mouth near her ear. "I know something you don't know."

"Yeah?"

"You just ovulated."

She pulled her head up to see my eyes. "And...?"

"It could happen."

She sighed, "I knew that when I signed up. I guess I get a famous baby-daddy."

I spoke into her ear again, "Have anything to tell me? Anything... Important?"

Her eyes blinked slowly and her look told me Pat had "helped her". I only can think of that as a good thing, although she only really had a choice once, before she agreed to come along on this trip. She was committed. She confirmed it. She said, "I obey you. Anything you say."

"Thank you."

"I want to do cool stuff here, too. I'll make you a great baby, if I can. I might have a son and name him after you."

"Your father's name, please, or another older relative. Too many Kevins now." Thinking further, though, I said, "Better have some girl names ready, too, though."

She rested her head on my chest and just mumbled, "Mmmm-Hmmmm."

== CHAPTER: After-word ==

Two years after lifting off from that Bison football field, the world was a different place.

Every coal and natural gas power plant had long been shut off. Houses worldwide had solar panels on their roof or in fields nearby. Two large fusion power plants had started as prototype reactors (with more on the way), making 20 GW each and powering massive bauxite refineries immediately next to them.

The economics of building large fusion plants was undecided vs. batteries.

PV was incredibly cheap. It could charge batteries for overnight demand.