Sean’s prompt exit from work in the face of a looming crisis was not because he didn’t care. He had bigger fish to fry, metaphorically speaking. It was his birthday, which had precipitated a greater crisis – he was going out to dinner with his parents and in-laws. It hadn’t been his idea, of course. In actual fact he normally did pretty much everything he could in order to keep the families apart. His wife, however, didn’t believe strongly enough in leaving well alone, and assumed that all manner of disputes could be resolved if people simply spent more time with each other whether they wanted to or not. Sean had found this trait touchingly naïve and good-natured when they were first courting, but in the face of his family and in-laws re-enacting the nano-wars in a nice friendly restaurant, he found himself cursing under his breath. Or, the more he thought about it, just plain cursing. He had to get there on time, largely to ensure that there was no time for anybody to argue with each other whilst they were waiting for him to arrive. He almost wished he could bring some functioning Robot Players with him to serve as a distraction. Functioning……

“Oh dear” Sean said aloud, as he breathlessly hustled through the ship.

The door of the restaurant was set back into the side of one of the ship’s corridors. It was styled with vaguely translucent panels in places where one might normally expect there to be panes of glass, and the doors themselves were bedecked with wood panelling. ‘Classy’, Sean thought.

As he moved forward in order to press the button which would open the door, the silhouette of Sean’s wife, Claire, loomed to meet him. Sean and Claire had been married for less than a week, so the first hot flushes of the excitement concerning the new direction of their lives was still visible in their cheeks. They had yet to have their joint accommodation request approved and were still awaiting the outcome of the parenting tests, but the thrill of anticipation was still there. Kind of.

The door slid open before Sean could reach it, and Claire’s voice immediately assailed him.

“Sean, you’re late again! Honestly it’s only a 5 minute walk away!”
“Ah”, Sean replied, “is anyone else here yet?”
“Everyone…”
“I’ve had some problems at work…”
“Come on, Sean, there’s no excuse. You know it’s important that we can all be a family. Together.
“But it’s MY birthday…”

Claire looked at him pityingly, a look which Sean was well used to.

“Come on then,” she said.

Somehow Danny had made it back ahead of Sean following his successful spying mission. He grinned across the room at Sean as the door slid shut and Sean followed Claire over to their table.

Many of the facilities on board the ship were designed in order to give the initial colonists a sense of normality, as well as some reasonable variety in their surroundings. The restaurant they had chosen was no exception. The wood panelling theme continued on the inside, with practically every surface possible adorned with the stuff. Queen Victoria herself would have felt at home there, with a little gilding here and there. The food was similar to a high quality pub, and extremely popular.

Although Sean’s group took up a lot of the tables, the staff had managed to isolate them in a far corner of the restaurant, away from many of the other diners. Either their reputation preceded them, or the ever-meticulous Claire had provided them with fair warning. Sean’s mum, Betty Oliveson, was as ever completely unflappable and as always clutching a set of knitting needles. She was as usual wearing what appeared to be an old tablecloth with holes cut out in the appropriate places. As Sean approached, she beaconed him towards the empty seat at the head of the table.

“Oooh look, it’s the guest of honour! Coo-ee Seany! I said it’s the guest of honour, dear!”

Betty violently elbowed pasty faced, sad looking man sat next to her, who happened to be Sean’s father, Roger.

“Happy birthday, son”
“Hi mum, hi dad - hello everyone! Thanks for coming!”
“Hello Sean!” said everyone.

Sean was amazed he had engendered such enthusiasm, given his dark mood. The dangerous kernel of an idea was conceived of somewhere deep in the murkiest parts of his brain.

“Still fiddling with them useless artsy robots, lad?”

David Miller was the type of father-in-law who liked their daughters’ spouses to do nice manly things, like strangling bears with their teeth.

“Same old, same old” Sean replied, unprovoked. He was rewarded with a snort of derision.

“Don’t you speak to my Seany like that, you brutish man, or I’ll give you a piece of my mind, just you see if I don’t” Betty chimed in.
“Wouldn’t leave much behind would it! Hahahahaha”

Shirley Miller, David’s other half, laughed lustily as befitted her personality. Roger Oliveson didn’t quite manage to suppress a snigger and was instantly rewarded with another firm elbow, this time to the solar plexus region. Stanley Miller, Claire’s surly younger brother, got up and left the table, whilst her nineteen year old sister, Sophie, sat looking intently at her cutlery. Claire just glared at Sean as if it was all his fault.

Sean’s idea migrated from the murky depths of his brain to the bleeding edge of his conscious mind. He had now officially had this idea. Although there would come a time that he would wish he hadn’t.