Pioneers: Part 3

THE COMMONWEALTH - SCORPIO SECTOR - SAN ANDREAS COLONY - NEW ATLANTA - ASTRA-PACIFIC LABS

Dr. Hughes delivered the egg-shaped transport pod upstairs to Dr. Langer, the gene specialist. Dr. Langer placed the pod under a scanner, that bathed it in warm orange light. A holographic model of the embryonic DNA appeared in front of him. “Looks very strong, this personality sequence shows a tendency toward athleticism and leadership. High intelligence gradient. This one will require minimal augments.”

Dr. Hughes let herself smile a little. “The young ones always give us the best stock.”

Langer was an older man, scrawny with unkempt hair, who wore a large multi-spectral eyepiece as a permanent accoutrement. “Too bad the Commonwealth outlawed military embryonic sales. They would have paid premium for this one.” Langer was also a veteran of the Scorpio campaign.

The system alerted Langer to a match in the embryon database. “Well, hello.”

“What is it?”

Langer zoomed in on the matching file. “Our little boy has a brother a system, a half brother anyway. Paternal half-brother, some little stud has been busy.”

Langer pulled up data from the file. “The other donor named hers… Aidan Bronstein.”

Hughes checked the donor record. “This one’s donor didn’t want to leave hers a name. So, we’ll let them share the same last name, this one will be named Adrian.” A program in the administrative computer assigned the names when the donor didn’t, which was about 60% of cases. This prevented Medicos from giving embryons ridiculous monikers like “Harry Butt” or “Amanda Huggenkiss,” although sometimes one slipped through.

“Makes no difference to me,” Langer made a few final entries into the file, and removed the embryon pod from the scanning pad. Hughes took the pod and place it inside a long-term gestational chamber. The system cycled into cryostasis to keep the future colonist stable for transport.

“Where is he going?” Langer asked.

Hughes answered. “We’re sending 2,000 to the Bellwether system on the next hyper-transport,” she told him. “Order from the Sweetwater Consortium.”

Every time Hughes went over the economics in her mind it staggered her. Each embryon was bought from the donor for a thousand credits, give or take, depending on the market that day. Each cost about 100,000 credits to grow to adulthood and transport to a colony, but each would produce, in a lifetime, on average, over a million credits of economic output.

All this was necessary if humanity were to colonize the other quadrants of the galaxy. Even the improved birth rates of the post-Crusade, 41st Century would barely support growth in the Orion Sector. And few humans would give up their homes and families for the forty year journey to the Carina or Cygnus Quadrant, far fewer the sixty years to Perseus Quadrant. Hence, the Pioneer Program.

Today, she would make the Sweetwater consortium six million credits in future income and it had been a relatively slow day. Her bonus this year would pay for a nice vacation cottage in New Havana. And she could sit on the deck and sip ambrosia, and think about her own embryons, on colony-ships bound for distant worlds.