â€œThis planet needs a Messiah so you and I have to fuck.â€ Sydec said. He didn’t mean for it to come out that way but the tests were absolutely fail-proof, and he needed to express the urgency of the matter to Vsha. Thatâ€™s aside from the fact that he wasnâ€™t always too keen on delivering. When science finally broke the genetic code, religion took a look at it and had an idea. Sydec had an idea earlier that week, and so he went to the clinic to see if the stars and the scientists agreed.
â€œWell thatâ€™s a bit crude, isnâ€™t it!?â€ Vsha snapped. She stormed from the room and grabbed her atmospheric suit to go out for a walk on the soil. Vsha had talked about this with him thousands and thousands of times. No sex before marriage, period. No post-script, no addendum, just no sex.
Sydec was already leaping after her in a bout of apologies for the words that dared cross his lips. â€œVsha, please! I had the tests run and you know how solid they are. Look, all Iâ€™m saying is that this is one in every million successful pregnancies. You canâ€™t give up a chance at destiny, can you?â€
The reluctant girlfriend stopped at the airlock, her suit half zipped up and her shoulders slumped in a defeated motion. â€œCanâ€™t it be someone else? I mean, heâ€™s going to get martyred or get captured or just disappear. You know how these things happen, Sydec.â€ Her voice was distraught.
â€œSweetie, darlingâ€¦ â€œ the man began as he placed his hands over her shoulders. Rubbing his palms against her muscles gently he resumed, â€œThis is not about sex, itâ€™s about the future of the planet. Of existence! The genes are right, everything is right. The clinic says that if we conceive in the next month or so thereâ€™s an 85% chance that it will be a true Messiah.â€
She turned slowly. Her smile was weak and so was her conviction. Her gorgeous green eyes stared up at him, looking for a hint of compassion. Vsha saw something to hope for on the surface of her boyfriendâ€™s face. She needed him to agree. It was the only way he could feel comfortable. When the heavens put pressure on you, it was far worse than a bad boyfriend. â€œSoâ€¦ itâ€™s really not about the sex?â€ she asked.
It was. â€œNo, of course not!â€ he exclaimed as he shook his head in a desperate attempt to persuade her that he meant it. She leaned into his arms and Sydec knew that heâ€™d made the right move. â€œLetâ€™s just sit down and think about this, honey.â€
They both turned towards the kitchen and he graciously pulled the chair out for her. â€œIâ€™ll get the wine.â€
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