Apr 9th, 2279
He lay in bed, immersing himself in the cozy warmth of Orla, her faint snores were the only sound puncturing the early morning silence. As he felt her breath rhythmically brush against his bare skin, his mind echoed with one lingering thought: he did not want to get up.
"Two years," Janice whispered in his ear, her ethereal voice momentarily eroding the tranquillity. "The two of you have been together for two years."
In the colonies, such an anniversary traditionally marked the arrival of an important relationship conversation. A conversation where love was assessed, and compatibility questioned. Despite the warmth of Orla pressed against his side and the ambience of the synthetic morning, the looming expectation of that conversation cast a nebulous shadow over his thoughts. Richard despised these exchanges. They felt plastic and contrived, but he knew they were inevitable.
Reaching up Richard grabbed his Halo and willed a soft pair of slippers into existence. Providing no details, the colors, textures, and design were chosen by Janice to suit his mood. They were comfortable, warm, and bore a pleasing design.
As he relaxed, Richard navigated the web of his thoughts towards the root of his apprehension. His emotions were entangled in a knot of conflict. Two years with Orla was a milestone, but it was also a reminder. In the grand scheme of colonial life, Orla was in her early stages, having only recently turned 22. Richard, on the other hand, was a walking anachronism. He feared that as she matured, she might resent him for her limited lifespan of only 200 years – a lifespan that he was responsible for.
The faint light frosting their room shifted, a precursor to Orla awakening. All her lights blinked once, briefly, in a reflexive response to something in her neural network. Richard sensed a soft tremor in the air, a ripple caused by Janice delivering her forgotten message to Orla.
Hoping to create a soft landing for their impending conversation, Orla suggested arranging a comfortable space for them to talk. The room, their sanctuary, remained untouched as Orla knew Richard's dislike for sudden changes in his environment. She closed her eyes, and Richard watched her thoughtfully, knowing the deep concentration on her face was the result of her meticulously envisioning their new setting, and communicating it to Janice.
After a short while, a wooden door materialized in the wall next to their bed. Opening the door, they were instantly enveloped in the calming ambiance of the room. The essence of serenity was encapsulated in the soft music playing in the background, the delicate lighting casting a mellow glow despite the apparent absence of a light source.
The central piece of the room was a cozy round table with a charmingly antiquated design. The table, made of rich oak, tethered together by bands of solid metal, exuded old-world charm. Richard noted the scattered tables around them, each secluded in their own corner, covered in shadows. He caught himself wondering just how old Orla perceived him to be, and despite himself, a smile tugged at his lips, admiring the effort she put into creating this environment.
The floor was quite odd, with no detail to its white, shiny surface. Through his Halo, Richard inquired with Janice about this peculiarity. With a whisper in his ear, Janice confirmed that for colonists, all of this would drift in an orbital path over the asteroids, replete with stunning stellar effects beneath them. Orla had not considered that Janice could not project images to his eyes, but he chose not to shatter her illusion. He simply appreciated the work she had put into crafting this environment for them.
"Wow, this is amazing," Richard said as he sat down in one of the chairs.
"I'm glad you like it," Orla said, sitting across from him.
The chairs appeared to have a hard, solid wood-like appearance, but to his surprise and relief, were comfortable to sit in. The table, though looking small, was just big enough that they could place their elbows on it comfortably and hold hands with ease.
Richard did not procrastinate on the inevitable. He dove straight in. They had been together for two years, yet they were still grappling with the complexities of their relationship. Richard had been feeling guilty about Orla's lifespan, and he wanted to know if she too blamed him for its brevity. After all, he had led the fight for it and crafted the law limiting her and all colonists to just 200 years. "Playing God," Brenda had called it so many years ago, arguing against it.
"Orla, I have to ask. Does the time limit still bother you? Do you blame me for your limited lifespan?" Richard asked, his eyes fixed on hers.
Orla took a deep breath and looked down at her feet hanging over infinity. "Richard, I don't blame you for my mortality. In fact, I see it as a blessing. A short but meaningful life. It's a blessing because it allows me to cherish every moment with you even more," she said, taking Richard's hand in hers.
Richard felt a wave of relief wash over him as Orla spoke. He had been carrying this guilt for far too long, and her words were a balm to his soul.
Richard smiled, his heart swelling with affection for her. "Orla, I love you. I know that we have our differences, but I want to be with you. Do you still like me?" he asked, feeling somewhat vulnerable.
Orla smiled back at him, her eyes lighting up. "Richard, I love you too. Of course, I still like you," she said, and her hair was starbursting.
The conversation that followed was emotional and enlightening. They discussed their fears, their hopes, and their dreams for the future. They talked about their differences and tried to find common ground. In the end, they both realized that their love for each other was worth any challenges that lay ahead.
As they held each other, Richard understood that he had found his true love in Orla. He was thankful for her brief yet impactful life, pledged to squeeze every moment. They had each other, and that was all they needed.
"Should we cast aside fear and pod?" Richard proposed, his feelings gently rising to the surface.
"Do you mean next year?" Orla responded, seeking clarity.
"Janice, is it feasible for us to postpone your waiver a year further and pod right now?" Richard solicited, holding Orla's hand a bit tighter. He was well aware of the answer. He himself had put off this decision for three years, but believed in maintaining the pretense.
After a brief moment, Janice returned, "Does Orla accept this?"
With no hesitation, Orla stated, "With my entire heart and soul!"
"Orla of Pod Weshryn-114, your remaining eight years of labor will be deferred until your children are podded or your pod is dissolved. Richard MacNaomhán and Orla, formally of Pod Weshryn-114, are now hereby Pod Primacy-206."
All pods housing an immortal were referred to as a Primacy pod. A vivid burst of pride blossomed within Orla as she heard her new title.
"Do either of you wish to invite anyone else to join your pod at this time?" Janice asked, winding up the official procedure.
"Absolutely not," Richard and Orla rejected in chorus.
"Orla, are you ready to become fertile?" Janice pursued.
"All of this is happening so quickly, Richard. Are you sure you want to proceed? Would you like more time to acclimate yourself to the idea?" Orla probed Richard.
"Whether we wait one or two years makes no difference to me nor to my readiness. If you want it, I believe we should take the leap," Richard answered, a mix of exhilaration and trepidation welling up within him.
Orla beamed, deeply recognizing their shared readiness to embark upon this new chapter together.
Relieved, Richard exhaled the breath he'd been holding and they reveled in a moment of peaceful contentment. The notion of opening a new chapter of their lives together was nerve-wrecking, still they were confident that whatever came, they would be standing steadfast... together.