“Just because the contract allowed you to wriggle between my thighs does not make us friends or require I spend time with you and yours.” Lantessa knew her voice was louder than the norm, but she was frustrated. Pregnant and frustrated and tired and wanted her ‘husband’ to go away and leave her to her day.

She wouldn’t look at him, but the darkened skin of the dome clearly reflected his stance and mood. Regigul looked away, feigning reflection or composure or possibly, though she didn’t think it possible, an inner dialogue.

“Tessie, as your husband…”

She found herself robed and ready on time, which was expected - a lack of synchronicity is a sin.  Her mother and father stood to either side of the door, ready to enter at her side.  They would offer her to the Colony, supporting her as she adjusted to the input.  She shivered at the thought of it, but had been advised it was controllable.  Practice would provide some autonomy and mastering the filters would limit unwanted intrusion.