COSMOLAB by Andrej Koymasky (C) 2005 written on July 1st, 1994 translated by the author English text kindly revised by
USUAL DISCLAIMER
"COSMOLAB" is a gay story, with some parts containing graphic scenes of sex between males. So, if in your land, religion, family, opinion and so on this is not good for you, it will be better not to read this story. But if you really want, or because YOU don't care, or because you think you really want to read it, please be my welcomed guest.
CHAPRTE 1 -THE BEGINNING
Sullivan Grosvenor Narita III, the hereditary President of the Confederation of the Unified Nations (CUN), looked out of the panoramic window of his office on the one-hundred-eleventh floor of the Central Presidential Palace in Floritown, deep in thought. He was contemplating the storm out at sea. Behind him were the five men he had appointed in charge of the five planets, waiting in silence.
Frowning, Sullivan Grosvenor Narita III, turned and looked at them, one after the other.
"What is this story, then? More problems? You assured me that everything would be ready without any obstacles. Do I have to have you removed, to get what I want? You know how important Cosmolab is to me, don't you? I have put at your disposal all the immense resources we have, I gave you absolute priority over and above all of the thirty-six Prime Ministers of our Confederation, and you stand here, whining to me about problems? I read your last reports - idiotic! The Prime Minister for Protection tells me that there are no more resistance groups worth our notice, and you, Mister Vice-president Gallichich, tell me you fear that saboteurs have infiltrated the program to several levels. Which one of you is the idiot? I want Cosmolab starting its journey the day of my birthday, and so it will, as I have no intention of postponing my birthday! Is that clear?"
"Mister President, we will do everything possible..."
"I hope, for your own good, that you will do also all the impossible!" the man hissed menacingly, and made a gesture dismissing the five men. After a ceremonial bow, they all left in silence.
The President rang the bell on his desk. The voice of the First Private and Particular Secretary answered. The President told him to allow his other two guests to enter.
"My dear Commander Freston, distinguished Doctor Alquwaity... I'm sorry I kept you waiting. So then, can I hope you will tell me that all is ready? I can trust you, at least?"
"Mister President, the men have been selected, trained, checked and are ready to embark at any moment, ninety-seven of the best men of the Protection Forces, ready, like myself, to give their life for their President."
"As well, my scientists and technicians are ready,² said Doctor Alquwaity. ³As I could chose who I wanted at the interplanetary level, it was not difficult for me to gather fifty eight men having the characteristics you wanted. The best that our epoch can offer, consistent with the set requirements. Certainly, having to exclude women imposed some choices upon us... I can't say makeshift choices, but certainly was not optimal."
"You know my thoughts about women, and about this project,² said the President. ³As you well know, the psychologists said, it was too delicate... either we got 50% of each gender, or it was better having everyone of the same gender. As there are more singles amongst the men than amongst the women, who interested us, the choice was unavoidable. Therefore I determined that immediately after the professional profile was met, a psychological profile should also be checked. I realise that twenty years is a long time, but this is the price we have to pay, as you know. If all goes well, in twenty years I can replace all the key people in the Confederation and finally start a secure and functional dynasty, whose descendants will sit on those chairs forever... Anyway, are the men in Paloowa Base ready? Do they know that I will personally come to congratulate them and send them on their mission? And are they happy with the reward I have promised them?"
"Certainly, Mister President. They are well. They have familiarized with the terms of the misison, and are grateful and proud to be able to dedicate twenty years of their lives to you, as are myself and Doctor Alquwaity," the Commander said.
"Yes, our men, in both the military and the civilian sector are already doing excellent work, socializing in Paloowa. And they are also getting perfectly used to the living conditions that they will find on Cosmolab - rapidly and well. They will be ready at least two months before departure," the Doctor added with pride.
The President smiled. "At least from you, I get good news. I thank you. You know how much I count on the success of the Cosmolab project. I have spent all my energy these last ten years on this project, and for my thirtieth birthday everything will start to run as a perfect machine. Very well. Your names will be written in gold letters in the history of this dynasty, when the work you are carrying out for me will be made known publicly. And you know as well, that you will be abundantly rewarded."
"Even too much, Mister President," the Commander said.
"No, it is not too much, considering what you are doing for me. Well, I will let you go back to Paloowa now. I have carefully read your reports, and I give both of you my compliments. See you soon, then."
Sullivan III was really proud about what he set in motion - in twenty years time he would have ready and available, all the Sullivans he would need to replace the five Vice-presidents and also, gradually, all the Prime Ministers and the leaders of the cohorts. Gradually it would be him, and him alone through his clones, who would control everything in the first person. And after his death, further clones would carry on, thus making him immortal. A simple idea, but grandiose.
Cosmolab was the key item in his plan. Up there, all the little Sullivans, one after the other, would be conceived and reared in a continuous cycle. All of them, his perfect duplicate, many other "himselves". the most trustworthy men he could ever dream of, thanks to Alquwaity and Freston. And while they were up there for the first crucial twenty years, he would prepare the men who would replace them for the following cycle of ten years. A powerful machine into which he threw all his useful energies, something that none of his Vice-presidents and Ministers had any suspicion about.
In fact, officially, Cosmolab was a space laboratory for bioengineering research, to eliminate the last illness still afflicting humankind. Everybody swallowed it. Ten years of studies, in a large part secret, made possible by the final generation of subliminal computers. One would be installed on board Cosmolab, and one would remain in Paloowa. The greatest, most perfect, wonderful computer that mankind had ever dreamt about, containing all of human knowledge. This would guarantee the formation of the little Sullivan Grosvenor Naritas, safely sheltered from everything and everyone.
And, selected from among hundreds of thousands of applicants, the157 men who would be the dry nurses to the little Sullivans, from the two leaders, the military and the civilian, to the last soldier or technician. He read and read again the synopses of the files on the 157 men. He was fully satisfied with what he read. Iron men, with their heads on their shoulders, ready to do any and everything for him, and for the reward which awaited them on their return - a life pension worth billions, and 157 wonderful estates, built expressly for them in locations of their choice. And immortality - that is for all those who asked to be cloned every twenty years in the Paloowa laboratories. Who could ever refuse an offer like that?
Up there in the sky, was the already-built Cosmolab, still inactive, but ready to be animated in a short while. The space ships at Paloowa were ready to take off, to take the 157 men and all the associated livestock and plant material required to support the existence of those men. Three trips by four space ships to the dark side of the moon, then the ignition of the propulsion systems, and the great journey of Cosmolab would begin, travelling on a trajectory calculated with the finest precision, so that it would be back behind the moon in exactly twenty years. That is, for his fiftieth birthday, with the eldest Sullivan clones on board, already twenty years old, and ready to assume their place at his side. The others, in a row, each of them one year younger than his predecessor... And more in the second ship, more in the third, in an unstoppable sequence.
Sullivan Grosvenor Narita III resumed his gaze of storm on the sea and thought that he really was destined to become the greatest man in human history. The year 2470 would be the year zero of a new era, that of the Sullivan Grosvenor Narita Thirds¹.
Yes, he was satisfied. All would go well.
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Ivan Butranek was son of the pope, Dmitri Butranek of Minsk. When he was sixteen, he enrolled in the upper seminary of Minsk and there he met Gregory Haltizine, a twenty-year-old seminarian, and master of ceremonies for the Metropolite. In two years, a strong, instinctive and very sweet mutual regard arose between them. So that when, in the seminary garden, Gregory caressed Ivan's head and told him he loved him, Ivan suddenly felt transported into another dimension.
"I, too, love you, Gregory," he answered.
"Really? Do you know what are you saying, my young friend?"
"Certainly I do. If you don't believe me, just test me. For you, I'm ready to do anything. Ask me."
"Really anything?" the youth asked, taking him by the shoulders and looking into his eyes. "Certainly, any- and everything!" insisted Ivan, with complete self-assurance.
"Such as becoming mine?" asked Gregory, seizing him by his waist and looking at him with burning eyes, pulling him towards himself.
Only then did Ivan understand what the other had meant, but he didn't hesitate. Gregory was asking him to challenge the laws of the Church by giving himself to 'him carnally He felt oddly calm, but ready and happy.
"Tell me where and when, and I will be there... and I'll be yours," the boy answered, with a strong, clear voice.
Gregory kissed him on his mouth, strongly, intimately, then turning away, said, "You know where my cell is. Come to see me after the midnight bell. My door will be open. Don't knock, or you will be overheard. Enter without being seen. I'll be waiting for you, my sweet friend. To make you mine."
Never had words seemed sweeter than those to Ivan. Impatiently he counted the hours. He knew what would happen later that night, even if he hadn't had any prior experience. He had studied, as had all the seminarians, the catalogue of carnal sins, and among them, those about "a man giving himself to another man like he was a woman, satisfying his lust with his anus, mouth, hand or other parts of his body". Yes, Ivan was ready to give himself to Gregory in all of those ways, because the young man made him feel his desire. The chaste Ivan, who had never even masturbated (which was anyway a minor sin) was now ready to do that greater sin. Ready and glad, as he was really willing to do anything for his Gregory, Gregory so elegant in his black cowl, whose face was way more beautiful that those of the angels painted in the ancient cathedral, with a smile more sweet than a vision of paradise.
After the bell chimed, he swiftly slipped out of his cell, walked in the dark through the corridors and stairways he knew by heart, barefoot so not to make any noise, to the door of Gregory's small cell. The icy stone under his feet gave him a sharp sense of pleasure. He entered. Inside there was only a small light. He closed the door behind him, shutting it with the bolt, making no noise - Gregory had to have oiled it carefully. He approached the bed where the beautiful Gregory was waiting for him, awake, under the sheet.
The young seminarian smiled and whispered, "Undress."
Ivan pulled off his black cowl, letting it slip on the floor in an shapeless heap - he had worn nothing underneath it, so he could get naked faster.
Gregory looked at him from head to toe and his eyes shone, "You are so beautiful! I want you..." he murmured and lifted the sheet, unveiling his body which was already completely naked, adorned by an imposing erection.
Ivan admired him with adoring eyes - it was the first time he had seen the nudity of a man, besides his own - he felt it fascinating.
"You are beautiful, Gregory... tell me what you want me to do to give you pleasure, and I'll do it..." the boy murmured, feeling terribly moved.
Then Gregory pulled him to himself and whispered, "Lick it, lick it all, Ivan, " and he gently pushed the boy's head towards his groin.
The boy bent, as if he were in front of an icon, and devotedly performed what was asked of him. With trepidation, he took in his hands those warm and turgid genitals, approached them with his lips and started to lick the solid length of the rod. It was very, very pleasurable.
"Take it all inside your mouth," the young man suggested, after a while.
Ivan tried but he couldn't accept all of it - it was too long, even if not thick. Gregory guided his head in the right rhythm and Ivan got aroused himself, feeling that lively and palpitating flesh sliding smoothly inside his mouth, the hot tip titillating his throat.
Meanwhile Gregory took a jar of cream, plunged his finger in it and started to tease, to rim the little virgin hole of the boy. Ivan felt an even greater pleasure, and while the finger was preparing him, lubing the entrance to his hot channel, he started to suck with increased greed on that beautiful stake, which in a while would replace the inquisitive finger. He felt the young man's member shuddering inside his mouth and thought that it was a shame that he had had to wait until then to taste that delicious morsel.
Gregory plunged two fingers into the cream and went back to work his way in and out of the boy's hole, turning them to soften the tight sphincter, preparing it for his imminent penetration. Now Ivan was shuddering like a leaf in a breeze, continuing to suck merrily on that beautiful rod that soon, he knew, would powerfully, vigorously, boldly, embed itself inside him.
The youth got up from his bed, seized Ivan and made him bend over, with his chest on the mattress, still warm and smelling of his body. He made him spread his legs, moved to his back and, holding him by his waist, started to push his vigorous rod in his hole. Ivan, on instinct, relaxed to receive it, and felt it slipping inside him, filling him, invading him, spreading his flesh, hot like the summer sun, and he gladly thought he was giving his untouched virginity to his Gregory.
The young man, after immersing it to the hilt with a set of determined, energetic, resolute pushes, started to pump inside him with vigor, enjoying the tight, soft and welcoming channel, made agreeably slippery by the cream, With one hand he teased the boy's chest, and with the other fingered his genitals, to give him that pleasure which would increase his own pleasure Ivan instinctively made his sphincter palpitate, enjoying the mace beating his ass with a slow, solemn, relentless rhythm.
Ivan confusedly thought that if committing a sin was such a pleasure, it was way better being a sinner than a saint. He was happy being the male, giving pleasure to Gregory's lust with his hand, mouth, anus and other parts of his body. He could feel his friend's pleasure and felt happy that he was the cause of it, letting Gregory take him in that way in the sweet night of that scented spring. Ivan was approaching his seventh heaven, sweetly bent under that manly body that was dominating, possessing, enjoying him. He really welcomed Gregory's hard and hot flesh inside him.
When he felt that his friend was permeating him with all his precious virile seed, Ivan suddenly came himself, and Gregory had to grasp the boy's member with one hand to avoid wetting the mattress, and place the other over his mouth to stop him from moaning loudly and risk them being heard by the seminarians sleeping in the nearby cells. When that first, strong pleasure had passed, Gregory dried his hand, made the boy stand up and turn and, embracing him, kissed him deeply.
"Oh, Ivan Dmitrovich, you are the most sensual, voluptuous boy I have ever had!"
"Have you had many boys?"
"Yes, but if you want to be mine, I will look to nobody else. I swear this on my life!"
"I am yours, Gregory, I am all, forever, completely yours!"
The two seminarians became lovers.
Ivan took the habit, since Gregory asked him to, of not wearing underpants under the thick robe, so that he would be ready to give himself to his lover at any moment and in any place. Gregory took him while he was leaning out of the bell tower window, just raising their robes and leaning against his back, while below in the courtyard, Ivan's mates were walking unawares. Sometimes, Ivan would slip under the wide table in the office, hidden by the long tablecloth which reached to the floor, raise Gregory's cowl, and push himself between his spread legs, and caress, lick, suck, while the young man recorded in the big register applications for audiences with the Patriarch or the Metropolite. Taking advantage of a moment they were alone at last to make Gregory cum, he would swallow all of the young man's abundant and thick seed, a taste to which he had become pleasurably addicted.
They both loved the danger, and it made their unions more exciting. Ivan continued his nightly visits to Gregory's cell. And he, like Ivan, was never sated in his enjoyment of him. Ivan had now just one steady thought - meeting Gregory and enjoying him.
At times Ivan suddenly dragged him behind a heavy velvet curtain to finger him between his kegs and kiss him, or else Gregory pushed the boy up the narrow stone stairway of the chancel, made him sit on a stair and offered his erect and hard rod to his sweet, greedy lips. It was difficult to tell which of them had the stronger desire for the other. At night, in bed, Gregory united frequently with his willing boy in long and passionate sixty-nines, which would invariably end with him penetrating Ivan with calm virility and mutual pleasure.
Ivan liked feeling the skilled lips and tongue of the elder on his member, which was now reaching the full size of virility. But he also liked very much to feel his friend's mace hammering inside him, strong and vibrating, until his senses exploded. He was happily and completely subject to the powerful fascination of the elder seminarian, and to enjoy his passionate intimacy, he was ready to do all.
Their foolish and reckless relationship continued to mid-winter, that is until they were caught in full intercourse by one of the teachers of the seminary. They had withdrawn into the manuscript library. Relying on the noise of the old squeaking door, Gregory, full of desire, made Ivan lie on his back on an antique, heavy chestnut, wooden table. He raised the boy's cowl to his chest, his own up his belly and, raising the boy's legs up to his shoulders, he was taking him with his usual impetuosity. The boy, happy at having him again inside himself, looked at him with loving eyes and enjoyed seeing the pleasure blooming in the expression of his young lover. They were not aware of the old pope dozing in a corner, behind a massive writing desk. The old man had awakened and, afraid that he had slept too long, hurriedly went to the exit, where he found himself facing the two intertwined seminarians engrossed in enjoying each other. Scandalized and shouting "Anathema!", he went at once to call the dean of the seminary and reported them. The Council for Discipline summoned Ivan's father and the widowed mother of Gregory. The latter was expelled and sent back to his village.
Ivan's father ensured that the scandalous deed was not made public, promising that he would give his son an exemplary punishment. In fact, the man forced his son to enroll as a volunteer in the Protection Forces, with a ten-year term of service in the strictest section of the military organization, the so-called "Presidential Guard". The boy's application, coming from a known and esteemed family, was at once accepted. So Ivan, barely seventeen years old, in just nine days, instead of wearing the black cowl of a seminarian, wore the light green uniform of the guard. And started the severe training.
But the charged lust of the boy, fully awakened by Gregory, far from subsiding due to the departure of his lover, increased and became stronger. The first time that one of the instructors, vice-chief Kastel, intentionally showed him his erection in the showers, Ivan at once knelt silently in front of the man and started to give him head, without the slightest hesitation. The man, who at most had hoped for a session of mutual masturbation, welcomed the boy's availability with astounded pleasure. He spread the rumor to a couple of his colleagues, two section chiefs, who at once took advantage of the boy's ready answer. The two men in turn showed Ivan to some young under-chiefs, who started to contend for a night with the boy. For the first time, Ivan had to be a top now, penetrating his own under-chief. The various non-commissioned officers who competed for a chance to have the simple-soldier Ivan at night, started to give him merit notes, positive reports, and good marks, so that the simple-soldier Ivan achieved one of the best and more brilliant curricula in the Formation school.
At nineteen, he was admitted in the Special Academy, whose chief-instructor, Force Chief Bruster, having known from his friends at the Formation School the "specialization" of Chosen Guard Ivan, made him his personal orderly and lover. In the evenings, Ivan, after completing all his tasks, was naked in the bed of his force chief, ready to please him. Force Chief Bruster was a lean, strong man in his forties, who loved two things above all - getting head for a long time, then being penetrated. Ivan excelled in both services. And again his curriculum, without containing any hint of his sexual skills, was enriched with many notes of praise.
So, just nineteen, Ivan Butranek, chosen guard, was personally selected by Commander Preston for the Paloowa mission. Being an intelligent and quick boy, he passed all the aptitude and physical tests, and also the psychological evaluation. They explained to him in great detail what the Paloowa mission was about, and he was asked if he was ready to sign for a twenty-year period of segregated life, followed by the reward which the President had promised. When Ivan learned that there would be only men on board, more than one hundred fifty of them, and not a single woman, he immediately signed on. So he was moved to Paloowa for the final preparations for the mission.,
He didn't exactly know what it was about, notwithstanding the explanations he had been given, but the boy thought that amongst all those young men, forced to endure such a long period of abstinence, he could find without any doubt, food for his desires. Sooner or later.
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When he was just twenty three years old, bio-chemist Uccio Galli had graduated with full marks from the prestigious University of Sorbonne City with a thesis in plant biochemistry, which was immediately published at governmental expense. This, along with other research, procured him the Nobosca Prize for Biochemistry the following year. Just twenty five years old, and he was the director of the government's Center for Crop Plant Research: NOA 7 in Oran. Here he was rejoined by Esteban, a former dancer, his own age and with whom he had a six-year old relationship.
Uccio, six years before, had been to see Esteban's show in Paris. A musical, titled "Dorian the Second", which at that time was very famous and which had been running for seven months. At once he felt attracted to and fascinated by the wonderful dancer who, half naked the entire show, had one of the main parts. Uccio went back to see him every Wednesday, until Esteban noticed him, always sitting in seat A12, always dressed in blue with a red necktie, always applauding him enthusiastically, standing up after his solo in the second act. So he sent a theater worker to invite him to his dressing room at the end of the show.
"Aren't you tired, always coming to the same show? You've come at least six times..."
"Eleven times, including today." Uccio answered, stirred up by the invitation, and looking at Esteban who was removing his stage make up.
"Exactly. Are you passionate about the music?"
"I am a fan of yours - you are so skilled, so beautiful - I will never tire looking at you."
"Am I more skilled or beautiful?" Esteban asked, looking at him in the mirror.
"If I look at you on the stage, you seem the most skilled, but to look at you now, you seem the most beautiful," Uccio said, with an admiring glance.
"A gallant answer. So then, do you like me so much?" Esteban asked, standing up and turning towards him.
Uccio admired the half-naked body, wrapped in a tight white leotard, covering him only from his hips to mid-thigh, and sweetly bending between his legs, he asked, "You wear a cup, don't you?"
"Yes. And now I have to remove it to dress, Would you please help me?" the dancer asked, alluringly, smiling and approaching him.
Uccio blushed lightly, but nodded in assent. He pulled away the white garment, gently caressing his beautiful legs, shapely and strong, then untied his cup and caressed his soft member.
Esteban pulled him to himself and French-kissed him, "What is your name?" he asked softly.
"Uccio."
"How do you do, Uccio. I'm glad to meet you. Do you feel like going with me to my hotel, now? To... know each other more... deeply?"
"I am free until tomorrow morning." Uccio answered, more and more stirred up, and feeling very happy.
"Perfect. You too are really beautiful."
As soon as they reached the hotel, Esteban ordered a light meal for two from room service. And they ate, then Esteban guided him to his bed. "Would you please undress me?" he asked starting to loosen Uccio's necktie.
They undressed each other, kissing, caressing, exciting each other, until naked and fully aroused, they climbed the bed and pushed against each other, full of desire.
"You have a really beautiful body, Uccio. You do lot of sports, don't you?"
"I swim and do squash, To compensate for my sedentary life."
"What do you do?"
"I'm a student at Sorbonne City."
"And in bed, what sport do you like to do?" he asked him with a sly smile, intimately caressing him.
"Any, especially with someone like you!"
"Do you have a boyfriend?"
"No. Some friends, mainly university mates. But nothing serious or steady, up to now. And you?"
"Me neither. I too, with some colleagues or admirers. Nothing serious."
Uccio slipped down the dancer's body until he reached his beautiful, erect member, gently took it in his hand and started teasing it artfully with the tip of his tongue. Meanwhile, with his other hand he brushed Esteban's nipples.
"Wow!" the dancer sighed, "I like this, you are really good!" and little by little, turned under him until he too reached Uccio's member. They united in a long and refined sixty-nine.
Then, seized by a very strong passion, the dancer pulled his legs up to his chest and offered himself to his admirer, "Put it all inside, go on, make me happy," he murmured, with a voice hoarse with desire.
Uccio went against him and at once complied with that request - he took him with vigor, enthusiasm, and fire, hammering into his small ass with sound and methodical thrusts.
"Don't cum too soon, make me enjoy it as long as you can," the dancer said, visibly pleased. "Don't worry, I too don't want this to end too soon. We have all night, don't we?" Uccio answered, continuing to file inside his hot channel with regular thrusts, filled with youthful ardor.
"You are too good, really!" Esteban moaned, very pleased. "You are a wonderful man, and fuck like a god!"
"You are really splendid. It seems like a dream to me, being here and making love with you."
They became lovers.
They had to part when Esteban's show moved to London, but at times either one managed to reach the other, about once a week. Uccio knew that, between their meetings, Esteban didn't disdain having some adventures, but he didn't care, because he knew anyway that the dancer belonged to him.
Then Uccio graduated and had to move, but they continued to see each other, to spend vacations together wherever they could, one being where the other was. Until one evening, during a show, Esteban fell from a not-well blocked prop table and got a bad lesion to his Achilles tendon. He had to stop dancing, It was a really bad stroke for Esteban, even if the insurance paid him a very huge sum. Uccio tried every way he could think of to cheer him up and persuaded him to move to Oran with him.
But Esteban became closed, cantankerous and bad tempered. He started to drink and sometimes at night, he didn't return to Uccio's home - he said later that he had spent it in the bed of an Arab or a tourist. Uccio forgave him, even if he felt badly about it.
Until one day Esteban called him and said, "Uccio, I will not come any more."
"You won't? But why?"
"I have met an Arab prince. He wants me to be with him. If I become his lover, he will let me have all the fun I want with his young servants. I'm sorry, Uccio, I felt really good with you. Really. But lately I have given you only troubles and worries. Therefore..."
"Are you sure about your choice?"
"Yes, I am. Good luck, Uccio. You deserve something better than me," said Esteban, and hung up the receiver before his lover had time to say something else.
For Uccio, this was a huge blow.
At first, he reacted by looking for Arab boys himself, to relieve his nights. One of them was a spirited boy and was able to give him extraordinary pleasure, but he missed his Esteban, so he gradually stopped looking for boys. He had also had a short relationship with a Belgian photographer who was doing some reportage on the last of the Tuaregs. They met in the Turkish baths and it was the photographer who made the first move. But when he left Oran and they parted, Uccio didn't have any regrets.
When the urge became too strong for him, Uccio went again to the Turkish baths, where there was a young masseur always ready to satisfy him with his refined skill. He first submitted Uccio to a long, exhausting and erotic massage, then he let Uccio take him, giving vent to his lust inside him, as he liked. For a few days Uccio felt sated, but then he had to go again and meet the handsome masseur. He satisfied him on a physical level, but could not give Uccio much more.
Uccio felt lonely, not sad but resigned, often recalling the love that had bound him to Esteban, and he asked himself where his former lover could be, if at least he was happy.
Then Doctor Elvis Alquwaity, in person, summoned him, and after a long interview, proposed that he become a part of the scientific staff in the Paloowa project, which he outlined in general terms, He accepted without the slightest hesitation. He passed all the tests and exams both aptitudinal and psychological, following which he signed the twenty-year contract. He left Oran without any regret and moved to Paloowa with all his belongings.
At first he plunged in the project's research, which he was starting to know about in more and more detail, and that fascinated him - to create a perfectly self-sufficient micro-habitat, a miniature ecological system that was self-regenerating, and able to accomplish the survival of 600 people for 20 years. In reality, there would be only about 160 people, but everything had built-in redundancies as a safety measure. It was a really fascinating project and certainly the means were not missing. Everything had to be redundant, but at the same time contained in the smallest possible space - it was a fascinating challenge.
When Uccio was enrolled in the program, it had been running for eight years and was more than outlined. But he made meaningful innovations which earned him Alquwaity's praises.
At first, partly because of the disappointment he had had from his experience with Esteban, still recent and burning, and partly from having been plunged suddenly into the studies and research projects, he didn't think at all about his sexual life. Until, at twenty eight, he met the laboratory technician Matt N'gola, a twenty-four-year-old black man, who was appointed to his research team.
CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 2
In my home page I've put some more of my stories. If someone wants to read them, the URL is http://andrejkoymasky.com If you want to send me feed-back, or desire to help revising my English translations, so that I can put on-line more of my stories in English please e-mail at andrej@andrejkoymasky.com