“Have you watched this 3D-thing?” asked Josh, rolling his high chair to their lab desk.

“Not yet. You?”

“Oh yeah, on the release day!” His friend nodded enthusiastically, also showing two thumbs up. “Cool stuff. Neuro-immersion and everything. I think, games and other VR will never make it too life-like just so that we don’t forget how to distinguish what is real and what is not, even if the graphics are top level. Still, it’s as if you’re watching a movie, but at the same time, you are playing an RPG. They guide you through the halls and labs, telling the story of the experiment and the complex, “’here the surgeries will be conducted, and here is the intensive care room.’” Oh, but the room with these wombs...”

“Uterus modules,” Chris corrected.

“Yeah, yeah,” Josh nodded wryly. “Anyway, this lady François explains everything there, puts the gloves and a lab-robe on you, and then – bang! A nano-pen and a nano-syringe in your hands and you stare into an eyepiece and see the pseudo-ovum or whatever they are, and your task is to fertilize them...”

Josh fell silent, lost in memories, and it was hard to tell by his face whether he was feeling ashamed or not well, but what he saw and “did” during the 3D simulation had him clearly impressed.

Chris grunted again and turned to his specimen, already knowing that he will unlikely be able to advance with his diploma tonight. Curiosity was his weakness. This really sounded interesting, and with Madame involved, it especially must be exciting for youngsters his age and a little older, who grew up in a predominantly male environment, rarely or even never in contact with women.

Chris is one of the last children from women who were able to give birth. The generation of his mother, young women born between the years 785-790, were the last to have children. And those who could – gave the world only boys.

“What have you got here, rookies?” a sonorous voice distracted Chris from digging in the past.

“Oh, Shirokawa-sensei! Long time no see. What brought you to the land of mortals?” Josh greeted the professor happily. “We have almost started suspecting that our group would be reassigned to someone else.”

“Anything may happen, but let me guide you a little more,” Shirokawa admitted reluctantly and began to scroll through the tables of each seed and sprout sample. “So what do you say?”

“We believe that the overall ratio has increased. A little unexpectedly, but for now, we are observing whether the positive statistics will be preserved,” Chris reported calmly.

“Are you referring to yourself in the plural, Newman?” the professor grinned.

“Shirokawa-sensei, don’t underestimate Josh. I already checked him on this conjecture without disclosing mine,” Chris smiled even wider in response.

“Hey now!” Josh said indignantly but immediately forgot his anger when the professor patted his shoulder encouragingly. “Work hard boys, I’ll be waiting for your evening reports with projections. Oh yes,” he started walking away but turned in their direction as if he had forgotten to say something. “Newman, come to my office after dinner.”

“Okay...”

“What’s the matter? Did you behave badly and forgot to invite me?” Josh wondered when their professor moved along the aisle to other people in their group.

Chris shrugged; he had no idea why the professor suddenly needed to see him in private.

***

The catering unit was located under the lowest but the widest “mushroom cap.” It was a bright round hall and the noisiest. Chris loved this place, although he didn’t know why. He did not particularly like the noise, nor did he like to be noisy, but he enjoyed observing such a diverse mass of creatures interacting. His generation, the youngest on Biosphere II, was represented by only a couple of hundred people. In addition, not all m-estrogens were in the same year of studying as Chris, so they were scattered across different groups and faculties. All the rest are seniors that are older by a couple of years and even a couple of decades.

However, all of them: applicants, students, graduate students, employees of the center – professors, doctors and scientists, and the zirks, were tied to the complex, to one planetary project. Studied together, worked together, lived, and had fun together. This was noticeable – everyone here behaved like they all were members of one huge family.

Despite the high position in the hierarchy of the research center, none of the upper levels showed that they consider themselves better than any of the lower levels, or students for that matter. Though there was a teachers’ table in this room, they occupied it only at official events. During the usual lunch break or any mealtime, they could be seen sitting at the tables together with their students, busy with food, and a lively discussion of some common subjects.

Chris was sitting with his group of friends at a table.

“Oh, another whole month, and then a week for tests and preparation...,” Sandro said. “But I'm not afraid of the surgery at all. It’s really a no-brainer. You can’t compare the level of today’s technologies to thirty or forty years ago. Moreover, everyone knows why it happened then,” the blondie impatiently shook his curls.

“Of course we all know. How can we not if that guy turned himself in and confessed that he had messed up,” Adrian asserted, “he’s got our gratitude for a cloudless childhood and the status of half-orphans.”

They all went silent for some time. It’s not as if they tended to succumb to any tantrums at their age, but they still tried to avoid the topic of their own birth.

“I think I’ll apply, after all,” Josh said quietly when they had already left the table. “Anyway, the surgery line is already long enough so… but it makes no sense to drag with this either. In any case, it’s either us or no one.”