Chapter 1

Tom Pfeiffer requested a private meeting with Robert Kempe, Governor of Rehome colony. Asked by the official answering the phone about the subject of the proposed meeting, Tom replied carefully, "It is a discussion of private concern between me and the Governor. I need his advice in a matter of some delicacy."

"Oh." The official was stuck as to what else he could ask, and simply said, "I shall see if we can fit you in. Is the matter urgent, in that it must be today, or can it wait?"

"Not that urgent, but it has to be settled very quickly. It should not take up much of the Governor's time."

"Very well. I will phone you back when we have a time, sir. Can I have your name, please?"

Tom laughed, "You ARE new to Rehome, aren't you? Most of the officials recognise my voice. I am Tom Pfeiffer, editor of the Rehome News online paper."

The man had a sudden mental image of a bad news report about the staff of the department, and revised his stance.

"I shall do what I can for you, Mr. Pfeiffer."

"Thanks, son."

Tom turned to his new boss, Jeannette Reagan, and grinned, "I could hear that new lad starting to panic at what might be said in the paper about him. As if we would be so nasty, darling. I'll guess he will be back to us in ten minutes."

He was wrong. The official was back on the phone in eight minutes.

"Mr Pfeiffer, the Governor says he can fit you in just before lunch time. He says come at ten to one. Is that all right with you?"

"That sounds admirable, thank you. I am pleased that the administration department is as efficient as usual."

"Thank you, sir. I shall confirm that appointment for you." The man sounded relieved.

Tom put down his phone and turned to face Jeannette. "That's it arranged. Let's see what Bob can do for us."

"You think it is that important, Tom my love?"

"I do. You will need anonymity for some time, at least as far as your old name is concerned. I am sure that The Personalia will obscure your face in any visual transmissions back to Earth, and altering voiceprints is nothing to them."

"If you say so, Tom." She leaned forward and kissed him tenderly. He preened, and almost melted with pleasure.

Tom was at the Colony Admin office with time to spare. He announced his name at the door, but it was superfluous as he was recognised by at least half the staff. He was given a chair to wait for the Governor, and two minutes later was ushered in, "Mr. Pfeiffer, Governor."

Bob Kempe welcomed him with outstretched hand. "Come in, Tom. What is bothering you that we need a private meeting?"

Tom waited until the usher had closed the door, and announced, "I am concerned about marrying Jeannette under her correct name."

"You are? Why?"

"A wedding is just too public, especially any wedding of mine. I think Jeannette needs to be kept off Earth's radar for some time yet."

"But, Tom, there is no way they can get access to her on Rehome."

"Not directly, I grant you, but they may try to rubbish her name. You know that she has bought the paper, and is going to start up a publishing business. Well, that will be fine after we are married, because then she will be Mrs Jeannette Pfeiffer, which will not mean anything to the spooks on Earth. Is there any way we can marry without making her present surname public?"

"I see what you are getting at, Tom. You want her to start your marriage as an individual with a clean slate, not being notorious on Earth as one the Malan Mothers who escaped their jurisdiction?"

"That's it exactly. I know the rules, but wondered if they can at least be bent a little, in a good cause."

Bob snorted his laugh. "Bent a little? You know how few rules we have, Tom. However, we do have to have her name on the forms before marriage, and the celebrant has to state the name. What is her name, anyway?"

Tom frowned in surprise, as he was aware that Bob was perfectly cognizant of Jeannette's name. "Jeannette Reagan is her married name, and Nabarro was her maiden surname. But you already know that, Bob."

Bob looked at him intently. "Are you sure, Tom? Could it be that she is Jeannette Pfeiffer, having decided at some point to change the name she wants to be known by? If she now answers only to Jeannette Pfeiffer, or any other surname for that matter, then all the wedding documentation will just call her that. You could also get the previous documentation altered, such as her purchasing the paper and setting up her business, to name her in the same way."

Tom closed his open mouth. "Governor, you have a way of simplifying most problems, and that method never occurred to me. Thank you. I think her problem is now solved. Can I treat you to lunch?"

Bob scowled a trifle as he replied, "Tom! I have a snack lunch prepared by Mary. Do you imagine I would give that up for a canteen lunch, or even one of our new restaurants in the city?"

Tom gulped, as he recalled that Mary Kempe, one of Bob's wives, was the best chef on Rehome. "Sorry, Bob. Mea culpa! Forget I said that. I shall go back to the office and share a sandwich with my boss. At least the company there is better than you!"

Bob grinned. "Go ahead and give my love to Jeannette and Enid."

Tom went on his way, a happy man. Getting back to the office, where Jeannette had their lunch laid out on the office table, he told her, "Darling, it turns out it is simpler than I expected. Call yourself Jeannette Pfeiffer from now on, then get your official documents relating to your business deals altered the same way, and we have you safely hidden."

"Tom, that is wonderful. So simple, but effective! That deserves another kiss, my man." She proceeded to kiss him, with her arms round him and pressing herself to him. Tom responded happily, until Jeannette pulled back. "Darling, our tea will be getting cold, so we must stop this for now ... or perhaps in a little while ... mmmmm."

Usgar, Jeannette's Malan son, was enjoying his lunch break at infant school, where he was in his first year. The green-skinned Malan children – all of roughly the same age – had elected to sit with their various human friends rather than sit as a clique. They had all been enjoined to act and behave as normal human beings, not as half aliens. Their classmates appreciated the gesture and treated them the same as their human friends.

This approach had been assisted by the teachers, who had explained to the school assembly that, boys and girls, Malans and Humans, they were all children together. The head teacher had spoken to the pupils at that morning assembly at the beginning of term, saying, "Children, now that you are in my school, let me make this clear: you are not Americans, British, French, or Earth children any more. No matter where you were born, or on which planet, you are now all residents of Rehome Colony, so you all have that in common.

Apart from that, you are all different!

People are all different from each other, as individuals, and our Malan children are just the same in that way.

There are children here from communities all over Earth, many of whom originally spoke different languages and have had to learn English as the official language of Rehome. The Malan children, who I should remind you are the children of human mums, are much the same as these children from other countries.

In fact, they all speak perfect English, as well as the Malan language, so in many ways the Malan children are better prepared for learning in English than many of your fellow pupils. Do not be surprised if therefore they do better than you in class. It is up to you to display what abilities or talents you yourself have, and not be jealous of others who have different talents.

Introduce yourselves to any Malan children in your class, and get to know them. They can tell you a lot about what the planet Mala used to be like before it was destroyed by invaders. Your Malan fellow pupils are the sole survivors of their race, so as our special guests we want them to integrate well with us."

He continued, "I should also mention that some of your fellow pupils who attended nursery school with the Malan children are able to speak Malan. I am telling you so that you need not be surprised to find some pupils chatting in Malan to them. You might find it useful to pick up some Malan during your time here, so that you don't feel left out. I shall be doing exactly that myself, so that I will know what you are all talking about, and what you are up to, whether you speak in English or Malan: you have been warned!

That is all I have to say today. I expect you all to integrate as a Rehome community in this school. Please do not disappoint me. I am not a happy bunny if I am disappointed, I warn you!"

Usgar was telling his pals that he now had THREE mummies, one Malan (she was a mechanoid, he explained), and two human Mummies, one his birth mother and the other the wife of the man whom his birth mother was going to marry.

One of his pals, Trevor, commented, "Lucky you. I only have one Mum, and most of the time she is busy with my other brothers and sisters."

Usgar said he understood. "My third Mummy, Mummy Enid, has a daughter named Beatrice. She is just three, so I am her big brother now. It is weird, being responsible for a younger sister, isn't it?"

"Yeah," said Trevor. "I have two younger sisters. They get in the way of me doing what I want to do. I have to keep an eye on them all the time, to make sure they don't get hurt, or lost when we are out as a family. I don't enjoy it."

"But don't you enjoy being part of a family group, Trevor?"

Trevor grudgingly assented. "I suppose so. I like it when Mum gives me a cuddle, and Dad is good at teaching me boy things. They both read me bedtime stories before I go to sleep, but now that I am learning to read, I'll have to read the stories for myself, they tell me. That sounds like hard work."

Usgar told him, "I am just starting to get used to being part of a human family: Two Mummies, my Daddy and my little sister. Before, it was just us Malan children being brought up together. I am told by Mother Narech that it was so that we would learn how to be a Malan. I expect that was the best idea at the time, but now I have to learn all about being part of a human family."

"And what do you think of that?" asked Trevor.

"I am quite enjoying the experience," said Usgar. "I have not had so many cuddles before now, but getting cuddles from Mummy has been a fun experience for me. Humans are so soft but strong. Mother Narech was so hard, that a cuddle from her was simply a gesture. My new family make me feel that they love me."

"Gesture? Experience?" Trevor was amazed at Usgar's vocabulary. "You sure know some big words, Usgar?"

"I suppose I do, Trevor, but it is simply that English is a second language for me, so I study it more intensely."

"There you go again: intensely. You sure have picked up a lot of words, Usgar."

Usgar grinned. "Words can be very strong in conveying meanings more exactly, Trevor. As I learned Malan first, as a baby, English was more a matter of translation, except that the way words are strung together is different. It doesn't bother me, as I learned a lot from speaking with human friends. My first human friends were the children of the Governor; and they soon picked up Malan as well. We used Malan at the nursery school for all our lessons. We used English when we were away from the Nursery school."

Then Usgar looked puzzled. "Trevor, can you tell me why people from Earth speak so many different languages? Mala had just the one language; why didn't Earth have the same?"

Trevor grimaced. "I don't know, Usgar. I grew up speaking both English and French. That was because my Dad was an English speaker and my Mum was French. She could always speak English, but she insisted on us children being able to speak French too. She seemed to think it was important. Je ne sais pas pourquoi. C'est la vie."

After getting the French explained to him, Usgar decided, "I'll ask my Daddy about Earth languages tonight, when he gets home. He knows an awful lot. I know something as well: some grown-ups here have been learning Malan, so it is not just Malans that use the language. My Mummy has been learning it since she came to Rehome from England, and is gradually getting the hang of it. She is a lovely Mummy."

Trevor quizzed him, "I thought you Malans didn't have real Daddies and Mummies? At least that was what I was told."

Usgar was nonchalant about it. "Yes, that was true at the time, but we all had Earth mothers that we didn't know about, and my Mummy is here with me now. She and Daddy are getting married, so he becomes my real Daddy when that happens. Of course, he says he is already my Daddy, in every other way, so he is no longer "Mister Tom", but "Daddy" to me."

"That's great, Usgar. You are the same as everybody else, now!"

"I suppose I am, Trevor, but that is not important. Being myself is more important than having a Mum and a Dad, Mummy says, and so does Mother Narech."

"Hey, that sounds about right, Usgar. Your Mums seem to know what they are talking about."

"I expect so. Mummy Jeannette has a got a new business that she has to work at, she says, so I suppose that means less time for me..."

"Naaah, don't work on that idea, Usgar. Just tell her you need more hugs and cuddles from her, and she will give in to you. Mums like to think they are needed, you see."

"Hey, that's neat, Trevor. You are clever as well."

"Mebbe. You going to teach me some Malan?"

"If you want. What do you want to speak Malan for, Trevor?"

"I dunno. Seems a cool idea. We could say things to each other that most of the adults wouldn't know! Just like using a code."

"Hmmm. I heard one grown-up saying they had to learn Malan in case we were saying nasty things or using bad words. I don't even KNOW any bad words, Trevor, at least, as far as I know. The only bad ones I have ever heard were all used by grown-ups, anyway, so I tried to use them myself. I got a telling-off for that. It surprised me, for if it was fine for them to use these words, why is it not fine for me? Adults are peculiar people."

"Wow! What words were they, Usgar? And there you go again: peculiar!"

"I forget now. It was a while ago. I just noticed that other grownups thought they were naughty words, by the way they looked at me after saying them, as if I shouldn't have heard them. Then I was told not to use them. That was more interesting in itself than the words they used."

"Pity," said Trevor. "I would like to know what words are bad words. I would like to try them some time, just to see what happened!" He returned to his other remark, "What does 'peculiar' mean?"

"Peculiar: unusual, unexpected, sort of odd. It is difficult to say exactly. You can look it up in an online dictionary, Trevor. As to bad words, well, that is why adults want to learn Malan: so they can stop us using such words. As I said: peculiar."

Marjory Phelan was surprised at the ease with which she was able to join the colony on Rehome. Being only sixteen, alone and pregnant, she thought she would get a hard time from the customs people when she arrived. She was wrong. They welcomed her, and even granted her farming land and the wherewithal for building a home on it, unless she preferred a home in the city.

Not having any farming background, she took up the option of a flat in the city. When she did so, she was informed that her ownership of the farm land would still stand, but without a farm house. She could, though, negotiate with neighbouring farmers for its utilisation by them for an annual fee. This would guarantee her an income for herself. She asked what that fee should be, but was told it depended on the quality of the land, whether it was level or hilly, and whether there was water readily accessible on it. They suggested a range of fees that she could work from, in her negotiations.

She was left with one major drawback. Being on her own, she had no friends or relatives here to help her find her feet in this community. Her parents had rejected her when she disobeyed them and persisted in going out with her boyfriend whom they thought too old for her. She loved him, and that was more important to her than what her parents wanted.

His rejection of her, once she told him she was pregnant, had come as a great shock. She had thought he loved her in turn, and would stand by her. Instead, he told her he had two other girls that he was fucking regularly, and he had no intention of settling down with one girl at the moment.

That disastrous revelation was the last straw. She wanted to get as far away as possible from her old life. Discovering that Rehome was still accepting emigrants, she went online to ask about this. The response was that, yes, emigrants were welcome, and especially female emigrants, due to a shortage of women in the colony.

She remained apprehensive about this and was prepared to be rejected when she arrived. It was a great relief to find that she was genuinely welcome; and to be given land and a home as well!

Still awestruck by the attitudes prevailing in this new community, she took to wandering the streets of this alien city that had become home to thousands of humans. The weird, alien-designed architecture of all the buildings curiously made her feel more at home. It was not one those run-down towns and cities on Earth. It all seemed new, here.

The residents all seemed to be busy with their own lives, and she was ignored by the passers-by as she strolled around. It did not seem to be the studious ignoring by people in Earth cities, where there was a feeling that they did not want to have anything to do with you. Here, the feeling was that of simply being too busy to stop.

The logical design of the city streets, with a circular pattern, enabled her to keep track of how far she was from the centre. All she had to keep track of where she was, was know her relative position on the circle where her flat was located.

This turned out to be easier than expected. Her phone was loaded with her new address, and she discovered a welcome app installed in the phone. By turning on the city map in her phone, her residence was displayed as a flashing dot, and her current location with a slower-flashing dot, so she could see at a glance how to find her way home.

She found that there were many small businesses in the city, so she wondered whether she could find a job in one of these. At random, she walked into a few, and made enquiries. None had vacancies. It seemed all the vacancies that occurred were quickly taken up by girls looking for a husband. Being visible in a shop was a simple method of increasing one's prominence. Men could easily stop to chat about items on sale, and offer opportunities for more interpersonal relations later.