'Helen.' spoke the voice. For a second the girl thought she was hearing her radio alarm clock, and she moved her hand slightly to turn it off. She felt something momentarily grip her wrist and her eyelids fluttered open.

'Helen, it's time to wake up.'

'Uncle Jakob?' she asked, still feeling woozy.

'No, it's the Easter bunny.'

She propped herself up onto her elbow, looked around slowly and spoke. 'That was better than your last joke – still dry, but you're improving.' Her throat felt dry, hoarse.

Dr. Reuban smiled. 'Why thank you. Now get your butt out of this tube and take a shower. We've already started dinner, so when you've finished come join us in there.' He pointed down a dim corridor, through which, at the other end she could see a brighter light.

'Dinner? What time is it?'

'Time doesn't matter out here in space – but I'll explain why later. The bathrooms are through that second corridor and to your right. There're signs – you can't miss it.'

She turned to him. 'Can I sit next to you at dinner? I don't...I guess I don't really enjoy being around new people. I'm not very social.'

'Sure thing.'

Reuban watched as she swung her legs over the pod and tip-toed over the cold floor towards the showers. He felt something strange – something he'd never felt before – graze his mind. A sort of protective concern perhaps. The last time he'd felt this way was when he was seven years old. His first and last pet, his basset hound named Ivy had taken ill. The dog no longer pounced about as it used to. It would simply sit in front of its kennel for days looking around at things and yet, not seeing them. Reuban had feigned distance and detachment after that, not wanting to worry himself with the painful connections to something external which logically shouldn't bother him. But it tore him up inside – not being able to hold that sick creature in his arms, to connect to it anymore. And when it eventually died, he never really completely forgave himself. The only thing that remained for him to do was to take this disconnection with living things to a new level.

In school, he saw no real need for friends – and besides, good ones were terribly difficult to find and weren't worth the effort. Relationships with people were too tiresome as well, even that with his family. His own bubble-like world suited him fine. But soon, life took a sharp turn and threw him a curve ball. At the age of twenty-three, his parents died in a car accident. He was in college at the time, and had to fly back home to make the funeral arrangements. His older sister, Celia, was on her honeymoon. Only a few sparse relatives appeared to pay their respects, and the day after the funeral, they all flew back to their own homes, their own families. Jakob Reuban felt so alone, so out of touch with people. It was like being a sole survivor of some terrible accident of which no one could empathize with except for himself. He wanted to speak with his sister, to be consoled by her. To talk with her for hours or maybe even days...but it was too late now. She was starting her own life.

It was apparent that he realized his mistake, but at a cost to himself. He longed for this connection to be reformed – with people, but he didn't know how to make it come about. It was like a broken glass jar, he thought. You can still stick the pieces back together, but there will always be the missing few that represented a sense of incompleteness. And the jar would have cracks and hairline fractures – all too apparent to be ignored. But, decided Reuban, he would try. So he decided to start out small, by helping others through his work.

He believed wholeheartedly in second chances.

Fox Jarreck was the stereotypical new recruit at NASA. Young, intelligent and promising. He was cocky too – another, less desirable trait. But it only lasted so long. And when it ended, it ended painfully. To have everything that held up a man crumble before him like great city walls, with him at its center...that was a fate that Reuban could not wish upon his worst enemy. Reuban did not want to be yet another bystander in the arena. So he ran a few inquiries, to try to get to the central truth about the matter. He found his favorable opinion of Weyland Yutani turn to a darker, more clouded conception after reading some of the case files, especially the obscure yet alarmingly suspicious references to the newer prototype synthetics – those similar to the ones Jarreck described. But he knew that filing a separate case against Weyland Yutani would be costly and would most likely prove to be fruitless. So he brought together and investigative team that analyzed the blueprints of the Romulus craft and found faults in its internal structure. At the trial, the evidence didn't clear Jarreck's name, but it did keep him out of an insane asylum. It even allowed Jarreck to continue a career – nonetheless a demoted one – at NASA.

Reuban felt gratified at what he was able to do, but there was something missing. There was always something missing. The way he saw it, he was helping people while simultaneously standing behind an indestructible glass window, pushing buttons, moving rods...but never really touching, never coming into direct contact with anyone. It lessened his hope but did not extinguish it.

He would keep trying though, what else was left for him to do?

'Jakob,' called out a voice from the corridor, 'grub's up.'

Reuban walked slowly into the small dining room and sat down with the others – all six of them, excluding himself – Helen was still taking her time in the bathroom.

'Reuban,' said Mash while holding a pot of steaming coffee, 'I don't believe you've met Dr. Omitsu, Dr. Barnaby and Dr. Regan.' He gestured towards the three individuals who smiled in acknowledgement.

Reuban nodded politely. 'You'll excuse me if I don't shake hands across the table – I don't think I want to get teriyaki sauce over the cinnamon buns.' Reuban winced. This recent attempt at dry humor was getting ridiculous.

Thankfully, Barnaby laughed. 'I hear you've actually managed to bring a civvy on board, Reuban. Who's arm did you have to twist to let them give you the go ahead?'

'My niece?' Reuban chuckled as he eased into his seat. 'It took some twisting...but let's just say that working twenty years for the same company does have its pay-offs.'

'Such as?' asked Omitsu, as she sipped her tea.

'Well, you know...' spoke Reuban not really eager to get into the nitty-gritty of company politics.

'No, I don't.' she said, looking him in the eye.

'Uh...' hesitated Reuban.

Lexington quickly intervened. 'You know, I heard that Weyland Yutani's having some problems competing with some other companies offworld.'

'Yeah...too many dogs in the same fight,' concurred Regan – a middle aged gentleman with a shock of jet black hair. 'And I figure that the prey's pretty much chewed down to the bone on this one.'

'How so?' asked Lexington, as he reached for a cinnamon bun.

'I figure that it's great, you know, all these new microscopic species we've got coming in by the truckload. But the discoveries being made are fast becoming numbing – it's old news. I no longer read the newspaper and go "oh – an extra nitrogenous base on the double helix!"... it's become too commonplace.'

'But that doesn't make it any less extraordinary,' spoke Yuya who had said nothing for a while. Reuban turned his head a fraction to look at Jarreck. He was silent, chewing on a piece of toast – seemingly uninterested in the conversation. Reuban turned his attention back to the topic at hand.

'To the money-making industry – it does!' exclaimed Regan. 'The problem with us is that we get bored easily. Shock devalues itself too quickly. Everyone's fighting each other for the same thing. But I think Weyland Yutani's already on the trail of something bigger.'

'Why? Because their stock prices are falling – less investment in the corporation maybe?' asked Yuya.

'Not at the moment, but it's anticipated. The thing that makes a company smart is not to think like its competitors, but to think four steps ahead of them.'

Barnaby nodded. 'He's right. Take the other big research firm – Koisan – they're investing millions in producing expeditions, hiring more microbiologists. Which is all great...but it's too focused on the now.'

'I don't get it,' said Yuya. 'How can you possibly jump ahead to the future by not looking at the present? How can you predict something that hasn't even taken shape?'

Lexington stared straight at Barnaby. 'By creating it.'

The room fell silent. The sound of approaching footsteps could be heard, and some of the tension dropped a degree or so.

'Look who's here! Nice of you to grace us with your presence!' said Lexington teasingly, as they all turned to greet their much younger companion. 'Ladies and gentlemen, this here is our Dr. Reuban's niece Helen.'

Helen smiled and took a seat next to her uncle. She felt odd, out of place. She hoped that she hadn't interrupted an important conversation.

'Helen, I hear you're planning on following in the footsteps of your uncle perhaps?' said Lexington.

'Maybe. Definitely research but I'm not sure about the entomology aspect.' Helen was hungry. She eyed the strawberry yoghurt at the opposite end of the table, but felt too awkward to ask for it.

'Why research?' asked Omitsu.

'Because I like discovering things for myself.' Her hands were cold, so she placed them under her legs to keep them warm.

'A respectable field.' nodded Omitsu.

'What do you do?' asked Helen.

'I'm a geneticist.' said Omitsu simply.

'Do you regularly ship out on expeditions like this?'

'Yes Helen, all the time.' Then she picked up the yoghurt and held it towards Helen. 'Would you like some?'

Helen nodded while averting her gaze. The woman was observant – so much so that it made her uncomfortable. She accepted the yoghurt and sank deep into her own thoughts as the conversation deviated from her and went down a road she could not follow.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Couldn't resist writing a new chapter. Thanks to Ryko Sill and Katimnai for the the reviews. They're greatly appreciated.