Solomon believed above all else that taking time for the little pleasures one could find in life enhanced each and every aspect of it. He had lived most of his sixty-three years with this mentality and surmised that it was the key to why he had remained happy and healthy. Solomon wouldn’t dare state this idea as fact when he had no control sample with which to compare his life, but in lieu of an exact replica of himself who lived with no little pleasures and thus no obvious evidence to the contrary, he was prepared to adopt the theory for his personal beliefs.

It was not always the same things which kept him happy. Indeed, an important aspect was deciphering what exactly on a given day would succeed. Some days required more or less treats to himself than others. Yesterday, for example, Solomon performed his morning ritual of meticulously preparing and enjoying a hot cup of coffee. Upon his first sip once the drink had cooled for long enough, he felt content beyond words and knew that in his first action of the morning he had succeeded with his daily task.

Today had not been the same. The geneticist had been awoken not by his alarm clock, but by shooting pains up and down his leg. Not an uncommon occurrence for Solomon, such was his lot in life, and yet always still an unwelcome one. To start one’s day in this fashion required a swift and thorough rebuttal of self-compassion to combat it.

The coffee this morning had helped, though more was needed to even the deficit. Thankfully Solomon was adroit at this specific task and knew how to pull each stop as necessary to mend himself and balance his mind. The scientists and lab technicians knew not to rely on him too much in the mornings as on a day like today he would often take ample time before beginning work. After all, he would be remiss to attempt his duty in a state as sorry as this particular one - it would simply not do.

Such was the reason he currently found himself surrounded by the throng of Veritas’ lower deck as some passengers made their respective ways to work or elsewhere. The Life Hall was abuzz with chatter and shuffling, all coalescing into a beautiful din of white noise which filled Solomon’s mind and calmed him with its presence. He watched nothing and no one in particular, instead letting his vision blur as he looked vaguely towards the large window of the viewing platform from his distant perch on the amphitheatre’s edge in the centre of the Atrium.

Solomon knew of no other council member who willingly ventured to this deck. Not that he visited often either, but there was a distinct difference. To Solomon, walking with the people of the project and losing himself among the crowd was an occasion reserved for the times when he would most appreciate it as not to dilute the experience, and also to avoid intruding on the society from which he was formally separated. Many of his colleagues instead felt it was their place to rule from above and not mingle with the people, with some council members even believing themselves to be truly better than those on the lower deck without whom the project wouldn’t even exist.

It was unclear for how long Solomon had been silently contemplating by the time the security guard approached next to him. There was no surprise to her arrival, but instead a sense of resignation from both parties.

“You’re slipping, Hiromi,” Solomon said, noticing the hall around him for the first time since he’d sat down. The crowd had thinned slightly, revealing that it was later than he’d expected to be found.

“I must admit,” she replied, “I hadn’t thought to look here, Doctor. I’ve never found you in the same location twice in a row. What caused you to come back so soon?”

“I needed it.” Solomon smiled up at her. He listened to the din of the crowd as he slowly returned to his senses, and once again became aware of the biting sting within his right leg. “You will simply have to add this to your growing list of possibilities for the next instance of our game of cat and mouse.” The first time this phrase had come up, he of course had had to explain to her as a Veritas native the idea of the chase which was entrenched in the traditional relationship between cats and mice.

The young security guard returned his smile, though her posture remained ever resolute and respectful - never betraying the line of professionalism which made her so exemplary to begin with.

“Doctor,” Hiromi began, formal as always to start, “you know as well as I do that there is no problem with your excursions. I am not under any illusion that the role of security on Veritas is more than a formality, and that if I were to allow you to come and go to the main deck without supervision, you would likely be in no more trouble than if I were with you.”

“And yet, each time I do wander off without informing anyone else, I can always rely on you to proceed with your duties as per the letter of the law and give chase even if it’s unnecessary, therefore allowing me to feel as if I have given my security detail the slip and bested those who wish to keep me down! All of which provides me with endless joy, child, and so I thank you for playing your part.”

At this, the officer’s formality waned just a tad - enough for her to step to a lower section of the amphitheatre and join Solomon in sitting on its edge.

“Of course,” she said, “your presence here is unbecoming of a member of Veritas’ Council, Dr Aki, and it is my sole duty to return you to your post away from the dangers of the public.” She gave a playful smile at their oft-referenced joke suggesting that the inhabitants of the lower deck were commoners to the upper deck nobles.

It was Hiromi’s name that had caught his attention when she’d first joined the security force working around the ship, but it was that balance of respect for her job and levity with which she did it that had led to Solomon choosing her as the sole member of his personal security force.

Having her around felt very comfortable, even though he was confident that she had no true context for why that might be. Such was the way on Veritas. Solomon was not about to explain the meaning of Hiromi’s name, or tell her why he often had to stop himself before accidentally adding keigo while addressing her. While both of these actions were relatively insignificant, the precedent of introducing an aspect of a specific Earth culture to the ship’s population could undermine a fundamental tenet of their society. The Council had worked tirelessly before the launch to encourage the first generation to disregard their old lives, and it had worked better than any of them ever expected. To undo that now as a member of the ship’s Council would be heresy.

At least he had free reign in his own mind to consider possibilities he wouldn’t dare utter otherwise, many of which came to the ageing man when he saw Hiromi’s face. He had no way of knowing what his daughter - Hana - would look like now, almost thirty years after his departure, nor did he know anything about her personality. Solomon hoped that she’d taken after Shiori, though he might be biased towards the woman he had been so madly in love with all those years ago. Of course, if Hana did take after her mother it would also mean that she might be kind enough to forgive him for leaving as Shiori had. Even now he felt that it had been so much more than he deserved for abandoning them with no way of keeping in contact. If he was being honest with himself, which he often wasn’t for his own sake, he had to acknowledge that with their purposeful lack of communicative equipment on board, he had no idea if Earth even still sustained life, or if it did, whether Shiori and Hana were still…

It wasn’t often that his rumination strayed this much. Thoughts on the level of severity with which the Council suppressed bygone cultures were frequent visitors to Solomon’s mind - it was a healthy habit in science to question your assumptions. It had been a long time, however, since his mind had wandered this far. They had all made sacrifices for the project, him no less than others, and they did so because they believed in it and what it could achieve. Though he did still wish to keep their memory with him, Solomon would do himself no good by ruminating on possibilities of his family that couldn’t be known to him.

His attention turned again to the current moment in the Life Hall. Laboriously coaxing his leg to cooperate, Solomon leaned heavily on his cane and began to push himself up from the amphitheatre seat. After patiently waiting in silence next to him for however long he’d spent in thought, Hiromi stood as soon as she noticed his attempts to do the same and helped the process with a steady hand under Solomon’s right arm. With his daughter’s memory still lingering in his mind, the gesture from the young guard could have made him burst into tears if he let it, though he was far too practised to show even a hint of that on his face.

He could never be sure what people on the ship thought when they saw him using his walking aid around the lower deck. The scientists and security guards who worked around him every day were used to it, but disability was not in the vernacular of those born on Veritas - and it was an idea of the old world to the first generation, meaning that it wouldn’t be spoken about in public if at all. He was not about to let his mind wander for a third time today to ponder another decision he’d had to accept years prior, but it was something he often thought on as he moved through those who they’d deemed worthy of saving from Earth, and their descendants.

“I suppose,” Solomon said, towering over Hiromi now that they stood on equal footing, “that it would be becoming of the head of matching to visit the laboratory at some point today and see to at least a few of my obligations, would it not?”

She smiled politely, once again having returned to her professional posture. “It would, Doctor.”

“Well, then I shall lead the way.”

***

Solomon had still not fully repaired the damage of this morning’s rude awakening by the time he made it to the laboratory - let alone the added setback of the thoughts he’d happened upon while sitting in the Life Hall. While he preferred to settle himself before work, there came a point where one had to accept the poor day for what it was and commit to soothe pain after fulfilling their duties. It would not have been weakness shown by Solomon had he decided to write off the entire day, but on this occasion he felt that he would be better when surrounded by tasks and colleagues than alone in his bed. Besides, he had one final act of kindness to himself hidden up his sleeve for after the day was done, the thought of which sustained him through the final hours of work.

Everyone else in the lab had finished for the evening, save for Francisco, a scientist who had been with them now for over a year. The young man was unassuming and mostly quiet, but a fine worker who no longer needed supervision to perform all of his duties. He stood across the large room, glued to a microscope right next to the lab’s entrance, while Solomon sat at one of the benches going over recent matching reports on his tablet. It was here, in the home stretch, that the geneticist was interrupted for the second time today by the arrival of an expected visitor.

“Solomon, I need to speak with you.”

Lisa made no attempt to greet himself or Francisco as she entered the room, instead exhibiting the absolute directness of speech that she had become increasingly fond of when away from public eyes and ears.

Solomon looked up from his work, so close to being finished that he could almost taste his reward, but alas, it would have to wait. “Of course, Madam Ambassador. Francisco,” he addressed the scientist who looked uncomfortable by his proximity to Lisa, “would you please excuse the Ambassador and I? You’ve had a long day, I’m sure those samples can wait until tomorrow.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Lisa said before Francisco could respond, “I’d like to speak in your office, Solomon.”

“Of course.”

Solomon slid off the high stool, bracing against the floor with his cane and stepping slowly with his left foot, then his right, grunting as he exerted the energy. Lisa didn’t seem to notice the struggle, but then again if she had, she mightn’t have forced him to make the short trip across the hall which took little effort for her to complete.

Shortly after they left the lab, Solomon stopped walking, patting his jacket pocket. “Lisa, I’m sorry, I have to return to the laboratory for but a short moment to collect my tablet. The door to my office is open - please take a seat and I’ll join you soon.”

Lisa sighed, but nodded, and went on ahead as Solomon followed their path back to the door of the matching laboratory, the pain flaring and subsiding in rhythm with his steps.

“Francisco,” he said as he poked his head through, “turn off the microscope and go home to your partner. On this topic I will not be swayed, so I encourage you not to resist!”

The scientist smiled. “Of course, Dr Aki. I’ll see you next weekend.”

***

When he entered his office, Lisa was sitting in one of the chairs facing Solomon’s desk. She began speaking as soon as the door opened, again skipping any pleasantries and not even turning to look at him.

“I’d like to start off by letting you know that whatever we discuss here will not be leaving this room. It’s a matter of extreme sensitivity and should be treated as such.”

“Absolutely, Ambassador,” Solomon said as he made his way behind the desk and slowly seated himself. He leaned the cane in its usual spot against the wall. “You know that anything you bring to me of sensitive nature will be held in confidence.”

Lisa nodded, then sighed. “You don’t have to call me Ambassador, Solomon. Not here.”

“Right. Please, go ahead, Lisa.”

She nodded again, then rearranged herself in the chair before continuing. “An incident occurred last month while I was visiting the lower deck.”

“Incident?” he asked. “Why was this not brought to the Council’s attention?”

“It was nothing that endangered me or caused any problems, just a hiccup that I have since realised needs to be monitored in case it leads to something worse.”

Solomon wasn’t so sure about the words that Lisa used. This was someone he had known and worked with for over three decades, he was able to tell when she held back some of the truth.

“Go on,” he said.

“I was confronted by David’s former assistant, the owner of Sample B-846.”

That sample number was attached to the matching report for Isabella Owusu. Solomon was, of course, very familiar with that particular file on their intranet as he’d looked over it countless times, especially when it had first come through. However, Lisa had expressly forbade him and any scientist involved in matching from even acknowledging its existence, or the existence of one similar sample, with threat of treason. The act of simply speaking about the sample now with no further comment on its banning was very much in line with Lisa’s character. There was no doubt in Solomon’s mind that if he were to mention it after this conversation ended, the Ambassador would follow through on her initial threat. Then again, she did tend to have a different set of rules for herself.

“She cornered me in whichever Atrium I was visiting,” Lisa continued, “and made allusions to David’s claims against me all while putting up a timid facade to make me think she was just another passenger.”

“What was it she said?”

“She told me how she admired my work and leadership even though I know that she was David’s assistant at one point and that those are precisely the kinds of things which he undermines in his lessons. He’s subtle, but he does do it.”

Solomon frowned. Despite being familiar with Sample B-846, he knew nothing about its owner as a person. Perhaps she had been acting in defiance to the Ambassador, though it seemed unlikely. “Why would she do this?”

“I don’t know,” Lisa admitted, sitting forward in her seat, “but I visited David to warn him about what he was doing.”

“You visited David?” Solomon asked. The encounter must have left Lisa particularly shaken for her to resort to that.

“I did, and of course he denied that the two of them had even spoken recently, but I could have told you before I went that he would lie to me. The real concern comes from what I learned when his current assistant entered. Apparently our lowly historian has taken it upon himself to introduce the two of them.”

“The two…?”

“Anomalies,” Lisa said, tactfully.

Ah yes. The most recent… anomaly had also come from one of David Savea’s teaching assistants, a complete coincidence which would have been notable had the occurrence of a second unique sample itself not been the most concerning thing to happen since the project’s launch.

“I don’t know why or how, Solomon, but I’m worried that David could be trying to make some kind of play against me by doing this.”

If David had indeed sent this girl to confront the Ambassador, then the implications of that were concerning - but it was still unclear what his intentions could be.

“This is definitely a possible cause for concern,” he said, “but I have to admit that the idea of moving to undermine you or the project doesn’t fit with what I know about David. Saying something in a class is one thing, but I doubt that even he would act in a way that could jeopardise the safety of the ship.”

“I thought the same, but I’m afraid that he could be getting desperate.”

“This is our old friend we’re talking about, Lisa.”

“Maybe yours, Solomon, but not mine.”

The two of them stared at each other for an extended moment without speaking.

“Is the other one of any concern?” he asked, pivoting the conversation. “The newer anomaly?”

“The boy? I don’t know. Obviously I don’t want the two of them coming together with David as some kind of conglomerate to oppose me, but where the girl gave me facetious support, the boy simply appeared and began bombarding me with questions about why he wasn’t matched.”

David laughed mirthlessly - the irony of asking the Council for those answers was not lost on him. However, something could be gained from this development. When each of the samples had first appeared, the Ambassador had rejected him out of hand, but perhaps now he could once again broach a certain idea.

“The possible outcomes of this trouble me as well, Lisa, and maybe before it goes any further we should reconsider our responsibility to this new type of passenger-”

“No, Solomon,” Lisa snapped. “This is not a discussion that I am willing to have.”

“Lisa I just-”

“No. Am I clear?”

Solomon once again looked across the table at his friend, colleague, and leader. He hadn’t been coerced into taking his position here - he didn’t have to be. He had willingly followed this woman to the ends of the Earth and beyond because he’d believed that she could do good, even if they had to make hard decisions along the way. But how long were they going to continue to sweep this under the rug?

“Yes, Ambassador.”

“Good. Now let me be clear. As I said before, nothing we have discussed here will leave this room. This matter is not something that I wish to discuss again unless I come to you about it.”

He nodded. “Is there anything I can do for now?”

“Wait,” she replied. “If it is like you suggested and David isn’t planning anything nefarious, then there’s nothing to worry about, I just needed you informed and aware of the situation. If there are any further developments, we’ll discuss them as necessary.”

He continued nodding. “Hai.”

“I’m sorry, Solomon?”

“Oh.” He paused, surprised. “I meant yes, Ambassador.”

Lisa’s eyebrows came together as she smiled, thankfully seeming to take the slip more as a confusing novelty than a cause for concern. “I haven’t heard any of your old language come through in years, Solomon, you’ve been so good recently.”

Of course. Good. “I’ve had a long day.”

“So I can see.” Lisa glanced at the time on the wallscreen. “I’ll leave you to your evening, Solomon. Thanks for listening.”

“Any time.” He smiled.

Lisa rose and left without saying anything further. As soon as the door closed, Solomon locked it from a switch hidden under the desk and sank down into his chair with a long, drawn out breath. He massaged the pain in his leg with little avail, but it was a habit to do so when he was stressed. So much for the plan of an easy end to the day. Not only was his head swimming with the information they’d just discussed, but he had both his work and Francisco’s to finish when he got back to the lab. He could leave the reports and samples to be done another time, but Solomon knew himself too well - they would be done tonight.

His head turned to the right and he fixed his gaze on the topmost drawer in his desk. In there was his last hope to salvage the long day that he’d almost given up on. It happened only very infrequently that a day would wring him so thoroughly that he would go to bed without being able to right himself, only with the hope that the next day could be no worse. The coffee and his walk through the lower deck had helped today, but they weren’t enough. Having Hiromi discover him did bring him much joy, and though he hadn’t yet been fully righted, it spurred him on for the rest of the day. But the nagging pain, more prominent today than many before, as well as the slew of thoughts and unexpected implications from the discussion with Lisa… He only had one option.

Slowly, Solomon grasped the steel handle and opened the drawer, taking a long draught in through his nose as he did. He reached in and lifted one of the items out, then placed it on the desk in front of him before taking a breath and doing the same again. He stared at the two squat pieces of chocolate standing as bastions of hope in the middle of his barren desktop. It truly was a poor day which would drive him to the extreme of doubling his nightly treat, and yet who was he to question the hands of fate for dealing him this situation? He was but a humble servant.

Solomon took joy in watching, lifting, and then eating the chocolate - its intense sweetness almost stinging his mouth in the most wondrous way possible. This piece truly was one of life’s greatest pleasures, and he knew as he ate it that the woes of the day were melting away, much as it was. Of course, you could never be too sure of its effectiveness and therefore he would still have to indulge in his second treat. After all, it was already out of his chocolate drawer and it would be rude of him to return it now.

He allowed his mind to wander briefly, forgetting many of the troubles he’d imagined earlier, though not all of them. It was important to remember why they were here. So he considered the Ambassador’s words carefully, and he thought about what they could entail. He meditated on the implications of certain information being known among the people. But most importantly, he thought again about Hana and Shiori, assuring himself that they were still living their lives, albeit far, far away from Veritas. And he hoped that they too would take time for little pleasures.