The woods of Earth Delta Prime burst with energy. Worms churned the soil at Nimla's feet, and fattened blue jays flittered overhead. In the underbrush, diurnal creatures scuttled. Chipmunks? She rather fancied those from her research. Secure that the air was indeed fully oxygenated, she doffed her helmet. Holding it under her arm, she breathed in the moist, damp air, that "earthy" smell she had only read about. She enjoyed the warmth of the planet's lone sun as it bathed her face. We actually did it! She was heady with a rush of novel sounds and smells. Eager for new tactile experiences, she squatted to feel the mud through her gloves, to touch the flowers and stroke the grass before her.

 

Years of space travel in her hermetically sealed cabin with mostly virtual socialization had left her unprepared and vulnerable. Mosquitos landed on her skinsuit, attempted to penetrate, and failed. The thin nanotech fabric resisted stains and bullets yet still allowed pheromones to leak out and attract vermin. Douglass strode beside her and laid his arm on her shoulder to prove her point. His hair looked fuller and thicker in the humidity than it ever did aboard the dry atmosphere of their ship. He was captain and the only male of their species aboard the cruiser. Unfortunately for the rest of the crew, he reminded them of that at every turn. It was difficult for her to understand why he had been chosen for this mission.

 

"Yes! Look at this, life! LIFE! Just waiting for us to populate it with humans, am I right?" he asked, nudging her in the ribs. The action jostled her into a misstep over a tangle of vines, and she dropped her helmet. An emerald green elfling snatched it with both hands, hissing at her through widened nostrils as it took off through the ivy.

 

"Did you see that?" asked Nimla, ignoring his most recent suggestive query, "Damn!" She raced to follow its shimmering scales through the brush. Invasive green elflings, with their rapid growth rate, would strain the delicate ecosystem. Not every earth creature was replicated as intended. She found her helm at the base of a large fruit tree. The elfling slithered up the rough bark, escaping into its foliage. Douglass ran up behind her, his heavy breathing hot on her ear. His closeness was unnerving.

 

"The last thing this Earth needs is more humans," Nimla said, finally replying to Douglass. Humans, she felt, were yet another invasive species. She found safety in their community's cautious and optimal planned mating options, the socially isolated protection bubbles that kept humans safe from disease and their own natures.

 

"Then what the hell were you all working on, if not to repopulate this planet like Adam did on Earth, the Origin Story, my favorite vid-show?" Douglass clearly embraced the ongoing and popular opinion that Earthlings were meant for an Earth. "Nimla, we've just proven we don't need to be contained on ships. We're free!"

 

"That whole series was fiction! Humans aren't meant to be on this or any Earth. We're toxic to life and prone to violence. We are bonsai humanity, best kept contained and small. If we overreach ourselves again, we'll face extinction."

 

She watched him pick up small multicolored beetles and let them crawl on his arms with a childlike wonder that she found strangely endearing. Birds chittered to each other in what Nimla deduced were mating calls. A woodland breeze stroked her chin, tousled her hair, and with this fresh air, she found it hard to think of returning to their ship. It was difficult to imagine leaving a world she had only read about and was now ready for the taking. It seemed impossible to believe Douglass could be right.

 

Douglass was now hugging the tree, shaking it between his massive shoulders. Sweat poured down his brow. The scent of his exertion snaked into her nostrils. She could not remember the last time she had smelled the male of her species, and the musky odor was not entirely unpleasant mixed as it was by oaky, verdant, and fruity notes. So different, she noted, from the chemical tang of cleaning agents, her own stale breath, and her lonely body odor.

 

Douglass' mission appeared to bear fruit. A ripened mango in a gorgeous sunset shade of red, orange, and yellow landed with a soft plop. He picked it up, dusting it off on his uniform and handing it to her on his open palm.

 

"I believe this masterpiece is your creation. Want to share?"

 

His sudden appreciation of her work startled her. Looking up into his soft hazel eyes, hunger played at her belly, and other feelings fluttered like butterflies around her thighs. Were atmospheric levels of oxygen intoxicating?

 

She reached out toward the bulging fruit, its sweetness anticipated by all senses. Peeling back the skin and taking that first luscious taste, she was astounded by a flavor unmatched by anything she had ever encountered. She ignored the warning hiss of an angry Elfling within the tree as she moved closer to Douglass. She wondered why she had never noticed how attractive he was. She watched him suck at the pit with delight as he moaned slightly. She felt the urge to lick the juice falling off his lips. Repopulating didn't have to result in world-ending overpopulation; Nimla began rationalizing. Restraining humanity's growth did not have to mean constraining passions. Stepping towards Douglass with a desire that she could no longer contain, it finally dawned on her the reasons for his presence on their ship. Perhaps in this version, they get to stay.