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“Thanks,” Cleopatra said.
Bartender Julia was older than Cleopatra and me. She looked like she might be closer to 50 than 40, but she was still a very pretty woman.
“Tell me, Tschenkar,” Julia said as we trudged along the edge of a forest, “would I still get claimed? By two of you?”
Tschenkar cocked his head. “Why not?”
“I’m older. Less fertile. Still fertile though, mind you.”
“All women will be claimed,” he said. “Even those much older than you. No woman is truly infertile, not when it comes to Khetar seed.”
“Goddess bless us,” Ski Coach said, smiling wide. “No, Goddess blessyou,” she said to Tschenkar, “all of you men, that is. I wouldn’t want Sex Teacher to think I’m stepping on any toes.”
Soon we found the car. There was a very narrow pass from the road that went into the forest, and it barely even looked wide enough for a car. Still, after a few hundred meters we reached a big snowy car shape, and after Julia bonked it a few times, enough snow shook off that I could see some of the car beneath.
“Did you just lie to her?” I hissed to Tschenkar as the other two women worked to get more snow off the car.
“No,” he said, but then leaned in closer to me, “we evolved to not split hairs over age.”
Tschenkar gave the car a good kick, which shook off twice as much snow as the women had been able to get off.
The car was a yellow ‘69 Eve Humper. It was a classic car, and it was spectacularly rare to see one in such good condition.
“AnEve Humper,” I said, shaking in delight, but that’s when Tschenkar burst out laughing.
“What?” I asked.
The other two women—to my surprise—were glaring at Tschenkar. His abrasive personality was finally coming through enough, and they had been around him long enough, that they could finally react to him with something beyond sexual captivation.
“An Eve Humper?” he said, slapping the car with his huge powerful hand, knocking more sheets of snow off the back plex field. “None of you think that is funny?”
He narrowed his eyes at all three of us, and I realized he really wasn’t trying to be a jerk, and he genuinely didn’t understand why we weren’t all laughing.
“How do you know about the ‘69 Eve Humper, Tschenkar?” Julia asked.
He laughed even harder. “The sixy-nineEveHumper. Okay, sixty-nine, maybe you don’t know that one, I can see you not getting that part, but Eve Humper? Really, Love? Think all the words through?”
I shrugged and shook my head at him. “East of Ginsburg are the humplands. It’s a landscape of rolling humps—”
“Hump,” Tschenkar said, thrusting his hips. “It’s a verb, or didn’t you know that,Sex Teacher?”
“Oh,” I said, putting a hand over my mouth. Eve. Humper.
“See?” he said, pointing to himself. “I’m the Eve Humper. Well, so is Thuliak, but you have to remind me to show you the 69 thing later.”
“I still don’t get it,” Cleopatra muttered.
“Forget it,” I said, “it’s a beautiful car, Bartender, how did you keep it so nice?”
It was all gleaming angles, and the plex fields had gotten that nice frosting pattern.
I pointed toward the plex field, but was careful not to touch another woman’s car without express permission. “See this weird frosting pattern?”
Tschenkar nodded. “Primitive human forcefield technology. This car is only a few decades old, and already the components are failing.” A frown set itself deep onto his beautiful, chiseled jaw. “Well, I suppose I can’t call you primitive anymore. Can I? Eve is Engineer Eve. This is her role on Eden. She is not Sex Teacher. Do you understand?”
They other women nodded, though they didn’t look like they agreed.
I traced my fingers along the pattern. “This patter is the quantum foam. The vacuum rest state. It inflates out over time, but the disturbances don’t build up enough that you can see them on the macro level for several decades. This isn’t failing technology, it’s a work of art, a window into what we can’t usually see.”
