of like my dad’s new float suits, so who knows? And the towel could have been for… ah, forget it.”
“I wouldn’t go near any of your dad’s inventions, and sure as extat wouldn’t be wearing one. Wanna watch me swim? Did my best time ever when you guys were out adventuring. Maybe you should leave more often.”
Jumper allowed his vision a moment’s feast. Kayla’s firm, petite form, which had never been rough on the eyes, was looking better than ever. The breeze blowing strands of her straight black hair across her face didn’t hurt the image any, either.
“No,” he said. “Writing in my journal. Maybe if you had your warm season suit on.”
“You’ve seen me in less than that.”
“Not in a long time.”
“Yeah. Your fault.” Kayla ran to the channel and dove in. She was undeniably the fittest human in the colony, thanks in part to the large square trench in the main courtyard that Jumper’s dad helped turn into a continuous swimming channel. Originally it was used for growing water-plants, back when the housing complex served as residences for Torian university students. This courtyard was the primary recreation area for the 64 Earthlings who still lived here.
Sixty-four. That wasn’t many. Jumper wished there were more. The complex could easily house hundreds—and at one time it briefly had, before the initial human exodus to Banor. That was before Jumper was even born. There were also several smaller migrations during his lifetime, especially in the last five years after the deteriorating atmospheric conditions became known. Then there were the half-dozen or so loners who had struck out from the colony on their own from time to time in an attempt to go live elsewhere on Amulen by themselves. Jumper respected those guys. If he wasn’t so close to his parents, he could picture himself doing the same thing—even knowing that most of them were never heard from again.
Alan was the last remaining close childhood friend of Jumper’s. Kayla was his only ex-girlfriend still living on Amulen. Not that Jumper was all that taken with the pursuit of romantic relationships. He was beginning to conclude they were more trouble than they were worth.
Only seventeen of the remaining population were first-generation Earthlings, including Jumper’s parents. Both Alan’s parents were still here, too—but Kayla’s were separated. Kayla stayed behind with her mom when her dad left for Banor several years ago.
Thirty-nine were second-generation, of which Jumper was the oldest. The first generation, those revived from the cryonic preservation tanks, had their hands full with the kids. That made it easy for Jumper and Alan to sneak off whenever they wanted. There were now also eight small children in the colony who comprised the fledgling third generation. Jumper realized Alan was right and they would probably all be moving to one of the Earth colonies on Banor someday soon. Jumper would miss his home world when that happened.
After watching Kayla swim for a minute, Jumper turned back to his lightpad. It was gift from Uncle Brandon when he was young. Jumper was one of the few Amulite humans who had one. Mostly, he used it to do research for the outings he and Alan cooked up. But he also kept a journal of all his experiences. Occasionally, Jumper kept in touch with certain old friends on Banor via his lightpad, and sometimes even received messages from Uncle Brandon on it.
Alan’s voice interrupted him from behind.
“Man, my dad really drilled me for details on this one.” He sat down on the bench across from Jumper.
“I hope you didn’t give him too many,” Jumper said without looking up.
“No, but it was difficult this time. I told him we met some Northern Militia natives and learned a lot about the agritent farming in the north, because I figure me having that knowledge is going to come up in conversation. Heck, it’s the only real newsworthy topic we have to discuss. But he thinks I know
“I wouldn’t go near any of your dad’s inventions, and sure as extat wouldn’t be wearing one. Wanna watch me swim? Did my best time ever when you guys were out adventuring. Maybe you should leave more often.”
Jumper allowed his vision a moment’s feast. Kayla’s firm, petite form, which had never been rough on the eyes, was looking better than ever. The breeze blowing strands of her straight black hair across her face didn’t hurt the image any, either.
“No,” he said. “Writing in my journal. Maybe if you had your warm season suit on.”
“You’ve seen me in less than that.”
“Not in a long time.”
“Yeah. Your fault.” Kayla ran to the channel and dove in. She was undeniably the fittest human in the colony, thanks in part to the large square trench in the main courtyard that Jumper’s dad helped turn into a continuous swimming channel. Originally it was used for growing water-plants, back when the housing complex served as residences for Torian university students. This courtyard was the primary recreation area for the 64 Earthlings who still lived here.
Sixty-four. That wasn’t many. Jumper wished there were more. The complex could easily house hundreds—and at one time it briefly had, before the initial human exodus to Banor. That was before Jumper was even born. There were also several smaller migrations during his lifetime, especially in the last five years after the deteriorating atmospheric conditions became known. Then there were the half-dozen or so loners who had struck out from the colony on their own from time to time in an attempt to go live elsewhere on Amulen by themselves. Jumper respected those guys. If he wasn’t so close to his parents, he could picture himself doing the same thing—even knowing that most of them were never heard from again.
Alan was the last remaining close childhood friend of Jumper’s. Kayla was his only ex-girlfriend still living on Amulen. Not that Jumper was all that taken with the pursuit of romantic relationships. He was beginning to conclude they were more trouble than they were worth.
Only seventeen of the remaining population were first-generation Earthlings, including Jumper’s parents. Both Alan’s parents were still here, too—but Kayla’s were separated. Kayla stayed behind with her mom when her dad left for Banor several years ago.
Thirty-nine were second-generation, of which Jumper was the oldest. The first generation, those revived from the cryonic preservation tanks, had their hands full with the kids. That made it easy for Jumper and Alan to sneak off whenever they wanted. There were now also eight small children in the colony who comprised the fledgling third generation. Jumper realized Alan was right and they would probably all be moving to one of the Earth colonies on Banor someday soon. Jumper would miss his home world when that happened.
After watching Kayla swim for a minute, Jumper turned back to his lightpad. It was gift from Uncle Brandon when he was young. Jumper was one of the few Amulite humans who had one. Mostly, he used it to do research for the outings he and Alan cooked up. But he also kept a journal of all his experiences. Occasionally, Jumper kept in touch with certain old friends on Banor via his lightpad, and sometimes even received messages from Uncle Brandon on it.
Alan’s voice interrupted him from behind.
“Man, my dad really drilled me for details on this one.” He sat down on the bench across from Jumper.
“I hope you didn’t give him too many,” Jumper said without looking up.
“No, but it was difficult this time. I told him we met some Northern Militia natives and learned a lot about the agritent farming in the north, because I figure me having that knowledge is going to come up in conversation. Heck, it’s the only real newsworthy topic we have to discuss. But he thinks I know
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