He had felt under pressure to be operational almost immediately. But his nagging uneasiness was not about time; it was about purpose. He had no clue which problem he was facing, and therefore no idea of how he should prepare himself and eventually lead his people.

After all that was the very precise reason why he had been awakened by the artificial intelligence of the ship. Humans were supposed to be better than AI at dealing with the unexpected. And the ship had met it.

The pilot robot had always retained control over the trajectory, and there was no direct threat to the ship itself, but it was somehow losing contact with Earth. Acknowledging the limit of robot minds, the nurse robot had woken him up. The mind of a human was the only chance to avoid the utter failure of the mission, but at the same time, it meant that the chosen one was doomed to a dire death, far away from the Promised Land.

Adam was then nine years old, and he had done nothing yet but wasting the energy reserve of the ship. Watching movies constantly, growing up slowly, and gearing up the recycling factory way too soon.

Fortunately for Adam's ego, the ship had finally found a task that he could really help with. More precisely, it was his manpower that was required for the repositioning of the infrared sensor from the prow to the stern. The ship had indeed no external robot able to complete the unexpected manoeuvre.

'Exciting,' Adam had thought aloud.

Wearing a space suit and going his way around the hull in the real void was a deep feeling mingling novelty, fun but most of all empowerment.

How many times did I hear that I have to behave like a responsible adult? With a proud smile, he signalled the completion of his task and expected a quick confirmation that the overall system was operational.

He started back to the hatch and flew over the part where the name of the ship was shining in big prints across the dark hull: the Real Frontier.

Why would one feel compelled to advertise the name of the ship, when there was no one to read the sign? Well, I read it. But I was not meant to.

He hastily closed the door that separated space from the comfort of the ship. He realised it was futile. He also realised there was no way they could sustain the life of a small human population throughout the interstellar space. They were only one fourth of the way to Alpha Centauri, the closest star to the Sun.

Lost in his thoughts, his only feeling now was one of waste, at least personally; for sure, he would never see the promised world, and thinking about having children would condemn them as well.

That type of feeling and reasoning, he reckoned, was definitively human, which was a good sign. I must think, feel and act like a human, but also like a responsible adult. It's important for the mission. Actually there's neither need nor rationale to raise children so far away from our goal.

The fact that he might not have any child was a growing probability that he needed to discuss with Eve. But he felt that he should wait after the next trajectory analysis. After all, they might well confirm that the observed deviation of the Earth had no implication on their trajectory. In that case, reason told him he ought to spare the ship's resources via a clean and swift suicide. Focus. You need to be responsible. Think positive, not despaired.

His lasting impression of waste was interrupted by the voice of Eve, announcing she was on her way to the control room to analyse the raw data that the rear sensor had just collected.

In the absence of gravity, he set himself in motion by pushing the nearest wall with one hand then both feet, and started his long journey through the hatchway to meet her in the bulk of the ship. He first passed the nursery where he grew up alone fed by a constant flow of images and sounds from their home world. The nearby but unreachable cryogenic storage that would kick off the colony contained two hundreds foetus, or to be exact there were now only 197 left. One child died early in its development and the other two conveniently called Adam and Eve were considered sane for their age of nine and seven respectively. He passed from the greenhouse to the living quarters, and finally opened the control room door.

'You took time, Adam. You'll always be the slowest,' grinned Eve.

'That's not true. I had the longest route and you also forget that I beat you a few times.'

'Loser anyway... The ship can confirm that... Ship! Can you calculate Adam's speed and compare it to... humph... Hey, don't push me!'

'We're here to study our speed along with the ship... not inside the ship,' witted Adam, before bending over to avoid the oncoming sidekick.

She missed but both kept spinning, she, along a pseudo vertical axis like ice-skater and he, horizontally like a diver executing a summersault. Until somehow he received a soft blow at the back of his head which stabilised them both instantly.

'Ouch! No, serious... Please. Stop... We must play the adults now. We have no choice. It's for real...'