From the command chair on the left side of the cockpit, Adam slowly powered on the craft, system by system. Eve sat in the right seat. The seatbelts of the engineer’s station floated like a serpent behind them. Once the craft’s power gave the computer command authority, Adam used its automated systems to adjust the craft’s position. As they moved to a trailing orbit behind the ship they watched closely for any sign that Alpha had a means to recapture them.

Worn by centuries of its cosmic journey, the pure white and smooth lines had given way to dull grey and dimpled surfaces. But even after centuries, the gold letters on her prow still shone brightly.

“Eden” Adam read aloud. “Her name is Eden.”

“I suppose,” Eve said, “that’s appropriate. It was a paradise for us, but we could not stay there.”

Adam checked the de-orbit solution once more before he activated the sequence.

Thrusters pulsed gently to properly orient the large landing craft. Then the main engines fired softly but constantly. The Eden slid away, eastward, in its orbit. They watched until it faded to become a bright point of light on the horizon.

“What will you call it?” Eve asked.

“Huh?”

“Colony World, what will you call it?” she clarified.

“You should name it,” Adam replied. “Without you, we never would have obtained it.”

“But I want you to name it, please?” She looked across the console toward him and smiled, to convince him of her sincerity.

“Well then,” Adam answered, “how about Earth?”

“Earth it shall be,” she declared. She then looked with a puzzled look, “Why Earth?”

“I think Colony World should have a name similar to Homeworld. Earth is similar enough to Tarth to be a proper homage, yet different enough to stand on its own.”

“I like it,” Eve decided.

They sat there, minutes becoming an hour. Adam worked busily, binder in one hand, fingers of the other dancing, occasionally, across the ship’s consoles. Though he did not, and could not, pilot the vessel, he understood enough to monitor the Omega computer and the ship’s systems to ensure himself that he was not about to entomb Eve’s life within a fiery iron death comet. Eve gently bounced her bare feet off the floorboard, smiling as the flight suit legs flapped against her calves. She was feeling for the sensation of weight — weight that would come from the force of a rocky planet, not the spin of a metal ring.

Strapped tightly into the pilot’s seat, Eve had to turn her head fully to the left to look directly at Adam. She wanted his full attention.

“Adam,” she said. She waited until he looked directly at her. “There is something you need to know.”

“What’s that?”

“Alpha was adding things to our water,” she told him.

“Yes, I know,” he responded, “minerals, vitamins, and other supplements for our health. Our bodes were not intended to live in a spacecraft forever.” He momentarily realized the irony of that statement.

“And a rather significant additive Alpha did not tell us about. I stumbled across it in the lab.”

Adam’s brow furrowed, curious and confused. He looked directly at her, “What was it?”

“It was something to suppress parts of our endocrine systems. It’s the real reason we drank from different sources. Our supplements weren’t that different. Our endocrine systems are very different.”

Adam looked confused.

“So that we wouldn’t do something that would cause us to have children,” she clarified.

“Well, Alpha discussed that with us. Pregnancy is risky, and I agree. I don’t want to lose you.” He turned his attention back to the console.

“Adam,” she said warmly, “he kept us from wanting that, but he couldn’t keep me from wanting children.”

He turned immediately back to look at her, surprised at her confession.

Eve could feel her face warming and knew she was blushing.

“We can talk about children another time,” she said, “but there is something more.”

He looked intently at her and could see she was flushed. It confused him as to why. She wasn’t naked, and he was looking into her eyes, not at her body. They could hide their feelings from each other. Despite her embarrassment, she looked deeply into his eyes. Looking back into hers, he waited patiently for her to speak.

“Without Alpha’s meddling,” she began, “… you’re going to start desiring something you should have desired long ago … that we both should have desired long ago … and you’re … we’re going to want something … and we will have children.” She caught her own breath, smiled briefly, then tried again, “You’re going to have strong urges. I don’t know if you know how strong … I want you to know …”

Adam could see how deeply red her face had become, and he knew of what she spoke. Yet he could see she was not ashamed of what she was saying, for her longing look never broke from his eyes.

“What I want you to know, Adam …” she said, then looked down to the craft’s controls between them, “… I not only want children. I want that too.”

She looked back up at him.

“We can talk about it if you’d like,” she continued, “You’re like that and I appreciate it. But you don’t have to make sure I’m comfortable with it. I’m ready.”

“I’ll think about it, Eve,” he said to assure her, flushing himself.

“Thank you,” she answered to be polite, but she knew thought would not drive his decision. In not many days Alpha’s poisons would stop numbing him, and there’d be a new intensity in their touch. He adored her; he’d always been tender with her emotions. She wanted to be kind with his. The way he looked at her, even with Alpha’s meddling, was telling. He’d be gentle with her, but he’d be overcome. Now that he knew her desires, she hoped he wouldn’t feel shame after that first … She blushed in anticipation.

“I love you Adam,” she declared before turning her gaze forward. Flames built off the bow of the landing craft. Her face glowed in the shadows as they fell to the world below.

“Take me home,” Eve commanded.