Welcome to the Journal of Now and Forever. This Journal is a collection of my Star Control and Star Control 2 fiction. Note: Some of this material is, by necessity, extrapolation from the slim information provided by canon sources.

New fiction is posted first at My Livejournal before it appears here.

Dean followed the advisor into the room. It looked like any other conference room – large table, mix of handmade and Earth chairs, large glass window looking out over the plains of tripsacorn and other cereal crops. There were six Androsynth total standing here: himself, the two Consuls, and three advisors; but seven chairs graced the table. A microcomputer and small electronic setup were placed before one chair.

"Dean?" asked one of the Androsynth, and he nodded. "Please be seated." He gestured toward an Earth-made chair, set apart from the others. The Consuls and advisors seated themselves.

Dean took his chair and set his satchel on the floor beside it. He was already working on memory tricks to remember who was who.

The two Consuls – he knew one was a spacer, and there was only one of those here, with the deeply tanned skin and bone-white bleached hair. The other Consul was well-featured, with gingery-blond hair, and looked vaguely familiar, though Dean didn't know why; he recognized that this was the second Consul only by the recently-created Consul insignia, a bundle of reeds. The fasces.

One reed breaks, a bundle doesn't. But a reed that bends with the wind will survive. Great, now he was mixing his proverbs.

To the spacer's right were a woman and the empty chair. The woman had dark reddish-brown, shoulder-length hair, upswept, one of those... what were they called? Hairstyles had never been important to him. Sort of olive complexion, but the usual, comparatively young appearance of most Androsynth. Keen-eyed, too – she was watching him very closely, studying him.

To the spacer's left were the other Consul, another woman, and an Androsynth whose manner almost suggested indolent to Dean; just something about his body language, more than his appearance, which was depressingly ordinary and hard to find anything for memory tricks to pick up on. Brown hair, brown eyes, pale skin – nothing suggested itself.

The second woman was dark-skinned – Indian-subcontinental? – with long black hair left loose. Unlike the other woman, this one's eyes gave away nothing.

Dean took all this in as the "familiar Consul" – he hardly knew how else to think of him – cleared his throat. "Let's get this started. Dean, my name is Kurt. I presume you've heard of myself and Gary, the Consuls of the Androsynth?"

"Yes, sir." Just barely, of course – nobody had even known such things as consuls existed here. So the spacer was Gary. Got it. "I'm not familiar with the others here, however."

"Our advisors," Kurt said, "Tomo, Ruth, and Dina. We would normally have one more here, but he's been called away on important business, so we have prepared to record this meeting for his benefit."

Clever, Dean thought. A good excuse to record the meeting. So Tomo – he'll do it tomo-row; the slacker. Ruth, Dina – Ruth long hair, Dina shorter hair – Moabite widow - shit! I can't think of anything!

"I greet you," Dean said, trying not to reveal anything in his expression.

"Let's get started," Gary said. "Dean, you grew up religious, didn't you?"

"From decanting, yes."

"Tell us about it. About your upbringing." Gary leaned his head on his hand. "We're curious as to how this all came about."

"Yes, sirs."

~ ~ ~

Dina watched the XR4-IT as he talked. He'd had a remarkably "human" home, one neither she nor, she suspected, the rest of the committee could relate to. He'd still been property, but his caretakers, if not his owners, had shown remarkable regard for him.

Jack's voice was whispery in her ear. "Amazing, isn't it? If only we'd all been so lucky."

Dina resisted the impulse to nod. She wore an earbud that relayed all sound in this room to Jack's setup two rooms down; Jack couldn't see her, nor could she effectively respond to him. The microcomputer was still set to record, of course, but this way Jack could pass questions on to her. Dina had thought the XR4-IT's inability to remember faces wouldn't prevent Jack from being present, but as Jack pointed out, the clone just couldn't remember faces; he certainly could remember names. And as each Androsynth's name was used only once, Dean was certain to remember his roommate's boss.

Dina had seen other XR4-ITs during the years on Eta Vulpeculae – you couldn't help it, sooner or later you ran into all the faces you'd ever see. Dean looked different, partly because his black hair seemed to suffer from cowlicks where other XR4s' hair didn't. He was nice enough looking, in the way that all Androsynth were tolerable to view without being either ugly or beautiful. She wondered how the next generation would be different; presuming a blend of parents' DNA, how different would the children look from their parents?

That line of thought depressed her, since it wasn't likely to happen for years to come, so she brought her full attention back to the discussion at hand. In sum, it sounded like Dean had been raised and taught by a family instead of a lab group (like Dina and most other Androsynth), and that had made a huge difference in how he viewed religion and the world.

She started. If he grew up in a family, would he be a good choice for helping raise the next generation of Androsynth? He would know more about familial dynamics, wouldn't he? She quickly jotted down the thought for a later interview – now was not the time.

"What a lucky bastard," Jack mused via earbud.

~ ~ ~

"So you chose your new name based on your owners' – sorry, your caretakers' – surname, as an honorific?" Ruth asked him.

"That's correct," Dean said. He was getting thirsty. "It seemed like the right thing to do."

"Do you regret coming to Eta Vulpeculae?" Kurt asked.

Dean shook his head. "No, I don't. I know my experience was not typical for an Androsynth, and I appreciate that. I couldn't have stayed on Earth. But I do miss them, and I hope they're doing okay." He paused. "Sirs, can I request something to drink?"

Tomo was sent for water and cups. Dean wondered how often this group met. Were they newly thrown together? Or had they worked together before and were deliberately appearing somewhat inept?

"Dean," Kurt said, leaning forward. "You realize, of course, that most Androsynth don't share your background or your religious beliefs. Some of them may even see your Church of God the Creator as a threat to them."

"We're not," Dean interrupted. "We just don't want to hide in the shadows any longer. Most of us have hidden ourselves and our beliefs because we didn't want to cause trouble. But surely we have as much right to our beliefs as the anti-religious?" They weren't technically atheists.

"What possible use are those beliefs?" Ruth asked. "I think we're all well aware that in Earth's primitive history, religion had several uses." She ticked them off on her fingers. "Religious rites instill respect for authority. The reward system of the afterlife helps to ensure good behavior. Taboos and beliefs help to shape the society in appropriate ways. The hope of a better world after death is helpful to those whose circumstances are brutal. But how useful are those things here? We have authority and equality, we have a useful society, and at present we hardly can call our existence 'brutal'. At its worst, religion is an excuse for foul behavior against those outside the religion – like us."

Dean clenched his fists under the table as Ruth spoke, and tried to keep calm. "I realize that most of you can't understand," he said, noting the tension in his own jaw. "To you, you've only seen the bad side. I know that my own religion isn't perfect. The Roman Catholic Church never approved of cloning. But – it's – " he tried to search for the words. "It's something greater than myself. It's being part of something greater." He looked at the ceiling and bit his lip. "God is in everything," he said, remembering what he'd been taught long ago. "God is everywhere. But He also gave us free will, and free will makes us what we are. All of us. God is in everything." He licked his lips.

"Religion is, like so much else of mankind, an artifice, a tool," he continued. "And every tool can be used for good or ill. What most of you have experienced has been misuse of religion." He took a deep breath. "Properly applied, religion is a boon to society, not a bane." Ouch, probably shouldn't have gone for the alliteration. "The Earthlings perverted religion, like everything else they corrupted." Doctor, Professor, forgive me. "The idea itself is sound, but any sound idea can be twisted to a bad end. Scripture says God created man in His image, and gave him free will. My family was rightminded, they raised me as an equal before man and God, where most of humanity would not. They knew the truth. Had all Androsynth been treated thus, maybe we wouldn't have needed an Exodus. Had I been treated as some unfortunate Androsynth have... I wouldn't be who I am now." Scarred hands.

He looked at each of them, nervous with the sudden realization that they weren't asking him anything back. He hoped they weren't just waiting for him to say something to hang himself on.

~ ~ ~

Dina was stunned. She hadn't expected him to be so –

A low whistle in her earbud. "He's good. All his records say he's a slacker, or was. Wonder what else he's got to say."

"Why do you cling to something so outmoded!" Kurt snapped. All heads turned to stare at him as he stood. "Why not believe in fairies or leprechauns while you're at it? You can't even prove your God exists, much less why you should dedicate your energies toward worshipping him. Earthlings followed their God so blindly that they ignored the realities of the world, even obvious realities like the age of rocks or the correct number of human ribs. Do you presume to -"

"You are just as closed-minded, sir!" Dean shouted back, half rising from his seat. "Any theory or hypothesis should be given some measure of weight until it is empirically disproved."

"So if we should disprove your God exists – "

"I'd like to see you try!"

"Let's calm down," Gary said, in a voice that brooked no argument. Both Kurt and Dean sank back into their seats.

"Proof denies faith," Dina said. "You need faith to believe in something you can't see or touch. Yet you talk of God as a hypothesis?"

"Even with our superior science – science that our whole society was made to create, to develop, to work – there are still some things we have to accept on faith. Things that we don't understand, we don't know how they work, but they simply are and we have to accept that they are." Dean's hands were under the table, but Dina could see the slight trembling of his forearms. "Would you – advisor – wouldn't you say that? We don't know everything there is to know, and we may never get the chance. But we have to accept certain things, because the alternative is worse."

"Such as?" Dina prompted.

Dean swallowed. "Such as, that we will someday break the reproductive barriers Hsien Ho built into us. That we will have a future generation. Because if we don't have faith in that, what point is there to our existence?"

~ ~ ~

Kurt paced like a caged lion. "He's good. He's too damn good. We've got a preacher out there, for sure. If we let him loose there's no telling what will happen."

"Slacker my ass," Jack muttered, the reflection from a microcomputer screen shining on his glasses. "There is nothing in his record to indicate any of this. Nothing. I mean, his religious preference is there, but -"

"Okay, so he's good," Dina said. They'd sent Dean back to the waiting room, under watch, while the Consuls and advisors beat a hasty retreat to Jack's hidey-hole to discuss what happened. Discuss – sounds so much nicer than panic. "And it looks like we're not going to change his mind. Fine. Kurt, we don't know for certain that he'll go preaching – "

"Like he won't after that performance? I need a smoke." Kurt never stopped his pacing. "I know, I know, it's good we don't have them, but this is - ech." He threw his hands in the air.

"Kurt's right," Ruth said. "Anyone curious who shows up to their prayer meetings – well – "

"Is that so bad?" Tomo asked. "We still haven't covered everything we wanted to ask him. So far he's, um, firm in his beliefs, I guess?"

"Right," Gary said. "On both counts. I'll ask some questions of him now. Kurt, you take a break from playing 'bad cop,' all right?"

"He was playing?" Dina said as an aside to Jack, who raised his eyebrows in reply.

~ ~ ~

Gotta stay calm. I think I'm doing okay – I think I've got them rattled – but is that what I want? What I need? What the church needs? I don't want them so scared that they get drastic. Dean took a few deep breaths and stared at the ceiling. Lord, I hope I'm doing the right thing. I know you've got bigger things to pay attention to than me –

The door opened, and Tomo looked in at Dean and the flunky Androsynth (Dean could only think of him as such, there to keep him, Dean, from running off or something). "Dean? We're ready to talk some more."

"Very well." Dean tried to smooth down the cowlick on the back of his scalp, and returned with Tomo to the conference room.

The rest were already there. Dean took his seat, and had a sip of water while the spacer addressed him.

"Now then... Dean. Religion is a personal thing, a spiritual experience, is it not?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then why the need to make a spectacle of it? Why impose it on others? Because like it or not, you have created a disturbance." The consul leaned back. "That is why you are here, after all. You've managed to upset people with your personal religion."

"We weren't imposing it on anyone, sir." Dean refilled his glass to give himself a split second to think. "We – the Church – we met privately, in our living quarters, not in public. We started when I began looking for others who shared a similar religious bent, and then it just sort of grew. It was by invitation, but we only looked for those who, well, seemed most likely to respond. There isn't much point in forcing someone to come along – it's a waste of everyone's time and effort." A thought struck him. "We could meet in public, if you'd prefer, so you can keep an eye on us. If not, we can continue meeting behind closed doors."

He hoped that one hadn't stung too much.

Comments? Email me: laridian at aol dot com