Chapter 59

Dinah gulped. 216 possible tunes for her song! She hoped that at least some of them were easy on the ear. She was dreading hearing a load of machine-produced rubbish, trying to find a gem among the dross.

She politely thanked The Personalia and downloaded their attempts at music. Not daring to make a start on these "tunes" without spreading the load, she sought out her sisters, and begged each of them, "Would you please help me out by listening to some of the tunes that The Personalia have come up with? What I need is for you to first listen for a catchy tune, and only then see if it would fit my song words. Do this for me, to save me going crazy listening to hundreds of so-called tunes, all by myself, please!"

They treated her abject appeal with sympathy and agreed to join the sifting task. As each of the sisters was transferring some of the data to their own phones, Amelia wandered in, carrying her baby, and asked what was going on. When they told her, she volunteered to help as well, and soon all of the wives were listening to the tunes in their phones, holding the machine to one ear so as not to disturb the other listeners.

Dinah was pleasantly surprised with her selection. She found all of them agreeable to one extant or another, and a few were almost mind-blowingly good. She wanted to mention this to the others, but they all seemed engrossed in what they were hearing, so she went back to listening.

She found herself singing along softly, using the words of her song, and enjoyed what she was doing immensely. She was still absorbed in the music when Trevor walked in. He was startled to find his wives sitting listening to music, and declared loudly, "Is ANYONE doing anything about our dinner?"

The girls all broke out of their mesmerising absorption in the music, and finally noticed the time. Switching their phones to pause, they rushed to put a quick meal together for them all, while Trevor tried to fathom what had been happening.

Dinah rushed to explain as soon as she could, asking her fellow wives to fill in for her while she briefed Trevor. "Darling, we are so sorry about this. It is all my fault. The Personalia have been writing tunes to go with my new pop song, and we were listening to what they have offered."

"Dinah, why the heck is it taking so long then? Were you listening to the tunes over and over again?"

"Darling Trevor, you won't believe this. The Personalia have come up with quite a few tunes: 216, to be exact!"

"What? 216 pop tunes? How many of them can fit your song?"

"As far as I can tell, ALL of them, dear husband."

"For Pete's sake! That is ridiculous. How the heck could they do that?"

"They did say they had analysed all the pop songs that they could find, and drafted their own tunes to the same or similar specification, as they see it. Human composers have had hundreds of years to come up with tunes for songs. The Personalia have come up with 216 tunes for ONE song in a couple of days at the most." She paused to catch her breath before continuing, "I was thinking: why don't The Personalia set up a song-writing business, if they can do so well with just a piece of my doggerel to work from? They could make a lot of dosh from writing tunes for songs, couldn't they, Trevor?"

"I don't see why not, Dinah. We should suggest the idea to them."

At 11.47, the Landership could be seen slanting down through the overcast sky towards the waters offshore. There was a light smattering of raindrops in the air, so Euphemia, Ebenezer, and Isabella sat in the shelter of the farm vehicle. Ebenezer repeated what he had said to Euphemia earlier: "I am still apprehensive about meeting your mother, Phemie. After all these years we went out together and I never met her because you thought it would imply commitment, and now here I am introducing you as my wife, and Isabella as my wife. She may blow her top."

"No, she won't, Ebenezer. I spoke to her on the phone and I told her to be nice to Isabella." She paused as she thought for a second. "Mind you, I didn't tell her to be nice to you. I just assumed that she would do so, but I may be wrong if she regards you as a serial womaniser. Oh, dear. Well, we shall see, darling."

They waited as the Landership drifted in towards the shore, and gently ran up on to the beach before turning off its antigravity and settling on the sand. The airline-style steps were hurried across the sand to reach the Landership's hatch, and it slid open silently. The passengers began to disembark, most of them first-timers, looking around wonderingly at their sandy landing ground, and the alien city to landward of them. People behind pushed them to move on, and one by one, the newcomers reached the steps, descended to the sand and were confronted by waiting officials who stood with their phones in hand, ready to log each passenger into the colony database.

On the beachside road, cars were drawn up as relatives and friends waited to greet their loved ones. Most of them were already out of their vehicles, standing to get a good view of the arriving Earth people. Isabella looked along the line of the road, and noticed an abnormality. A number of men in the uniform of the security forces were standing around one particular spot. Looking towards that spot, she observed that an unusual event was happening. The person of the Governor could be seen, and he was hovering next to a group of aliens. She recognised some of the aliens as the Locally resident Malans, but there were other non-humans that she had not seen before.

Out of curiosity, she walked over to the nearest security man, to ask, "Excuse me, who are the aliens that are not Malans? I don't know them."

"They are Towatans, ma'am. They are on a visit to meet the Malans, and the Governor thought they would like to see a Landership arrival at Metropolis. They don't have that happening at their own city, down the coast."

"Right. Thank you for that information. Do they really need you here to protect them?"

"Probably not, Mrs de la Torre. We are more like an honour guard, but we take our protection duties seriously."

Isabella had been startled when he used her name. "Do you know me, then?"

"No, Mrs de la Torre. In my helmet I have an earpiece and miniature camera with a datalink that feeds me any necessary data from The Personalia. They can recognise anyone and immediately pass on the information to us. It makes our job so much easier. If you will excuse me, ma'am, I have to pay attention to the other side of the road."

"Sorry. I'll let you get on with your work."

Isabella returned to the family car, and found that Ebenezer was standing waiting for her. He told her, "Euphemia has gone to escort her mother to the car. The officials have finished with her."

She told him about the aliens along the road. He said, "Great. If we get a chance, we can point them out to Mrs. Penrose when Euphemia brings her here."

Looking across the beach, they spotted Euphemia standing with a tall, buxom, older lady. Euphemia was pointing out aspects of the alien city in front of them, then swinging her hand out to sea, clearly pointing out the heat pump mechanism that powered the city by filling up the city power batteries. Ebenezer nodded sagely, commenting to Isabella, "Giving her mother a load of awesome facts about the city will distract the woman from any adverse comment she might otherwise make. That was a clever move. You should note it for possible application in other circumstances, Isabella."

"Yes, dear," Isabella responded, noncommittedly. They watched as Euphemia steered her mother in the direction of Ebenezer, Isabella, and the car. Ebenezer gave them a wave to indicate where they were and to seem welcoming. They waited while the pair trudged across the sand to the roadside. Ebenezer was quick to welcome his mother-in-law.

"Welcome to Rehome Colony, Mrs Penrose, or should I call you "Mother"?"

Still panting from the strenuous walk across the sand, Mrs Penrose was panting. "As soon as I can get my breath back, Ebenezer." She waited till her breathing became easier. "Better now. Ebenezer, you are a more handsome man than I envisaged, and you have a farming business established. Euphemia has chosen well. It was about time she made her mind up." She swivelled her head to examine Isabella. "And this young lady is Isabella, I resume. Congratulations, Isabella, on choosing a nice man. I gather that you and Euphemia are expecting to be mothers in a few months?"

"Yes, Mrs Penrose. It is wonderful. I am so looking forward to being a mother. Do I get to call you "Mother" as well? Both my parents are deceased, so I don't have any mother," Isabella informed her.

Mrs Penrose thought to herself, and said, "I prefer not to be called "Mother" by everyone. I makes me sound so old! I am not old: I am only fifty-two. My given name is Phoebe, so please, all of you use that name, except for my daughter, who can continue to call me Mother if she wants."

Isabella responded, "Fine, Phoebe. We'll do that, won't we, Ebenezer?"

Ebenezer nonchalantly said, "If that is what the lady wants, that is what the lady gets. Welcome, Phoebe. The ladies have a meal organised for when we get home, so shall we get going? Oh, I nearly forgot. Phoebe, do you see along the road to the left – these are our local aliens, chatting with the Governor."

"Oh, my goodness. Real aliens? Do they speak English, then, or doe the Governor speak their languages?"

Ebenezer explained, "The Malans are all able to speak standard English. They are still children, but are extremely polite. The others are Towatans. I don't think they speak English yet, but The Personalia act as interpreter for the chat with the Governor and with the Malan children. You may notice a Malan adult over there, Phoebe. She is actually a Personalia mechanoid, a sort of Malan-shaped robot operated by The Personalia." He paused, reflecting, then resumed, "No, that is not entirely true: Mother Narech can act independently, but is in contact with The Personalia in orbit at all times."

"So you have Malan children living here? Where are their parents then?" Phoebe wanted to know.

"They have no parents, Phoebe. These four are the entire Malan race, resurrected by cloning from deep-frozen Malan adults. The Personalia act as surrogate parents for them."

"I see. So that is why they speak English?"

"No, you misunderstand. They have been taught the Malan language since they were babies, and English is their second language. In fact, there are more humans who speak Malan than there are Malans in existence. The idea is to save the Malan language by having a pool of people who can talk to the children in Malan. The Governor's children go to a nursery school where only Malan is spoken, and as the children progress to primary school some of their classes will be taught in Malan. Certain teachers are learning the language for this purpose."

"My goodness. That is an altruistic approach to education. Is that not the expensive option? Wouldn't all-English lessons be cheaper?"

"True, but The Personalia subsidise anything to do with the Malan children, so that there will be no additional cost to the community at large. Now, we have to get back to the farm, so Euphemia and Isabella will answer any of your questions while I drive, Phoebe."

On the way home, most of Phoebe's questions were about home life, rather than the scene outside the vehicle. She wanted to know how the three lived as a trio, about their interactions. Euphemia made a point to her mother, "Mother, when we are at home, you must accept that Ebenezer will kiss, touch, fondle and otherwise show his love for me and Isabella, so please ignore such activity going on around you. It is our home, and that is how we like things. Is that clear, Mother?"

"Oh, my. Yes, of course Effie. I shall not say a word. I know I am the guest. I don't want to get in the way while I am here."

Having been given the go-ahead, the Smith family plus Helen embarked on the serious task of selecting a colony site on Arborea. Factors such as a possible seaside location versus a level site in the forest, with plenty of timber available; the prevailing wind direction; availability of resources, with water supply important, and potential farmland. If the forest was cut down for housebuilding timber, the site could be used to build a village as a basis for more expansion later. A level site would assist in track laying for a railway network, provided there was no risk of flooding.

The lack of any significant axial tilt meant that weather would be relatively mild, with few climatic extremes in the future. Helen wanted to run a test regime for a year, to be sure that the temperature range was suitable for most crops.

Mia and Mya had other concerns. Mya said to her, "Helen, before you can grow crops, you need to be certain that the soil is free of pests that may eat your seeds or your growing crop; and that the location is clear of plant diseases that might devastate the crop. We should have The Personalia take soil samples to be examined for such pests and diseases.

We are aware that most planets had differing ecologies, and so an Earth crop in all probability will be free of such drawbacks, but we mustn't simply assume that. We should prove it by analysis.

Another factor may be competition. There may be plants or fungi which will take over any cleared ground before a new crop gets established. We should have a sample plot cleared and sown with an Earth crop, to see what happens. We anticipate that this can be done remotely, using mechanoids. This saves sending a human being for the purpose.