It was a project based on several known facts.
(1) With every kilo of mass lifted from a planet's gravity well, the amount of fuel needed went up exponentially.
(2) The fewer the crew, the less the mass of life support needed.
(3) A human in space, completely cut off from human contact will go insane within forty days.
(4) Rigorous evaluation was needed to assure long term crew compatibility.
It was deemed vital the Ambassador get to the colony before the two factions resorted to violence and killed each other off. Sadly, as always, budget restraints lifted their ugly head, and the mission seemed doomed. Then technology came to the rescue with "Human Companion - Mark 1 (Female)". A joint effort between PSA (Planetary Space Agency) Bic Corp. (makers of fine writing pens), Skoda (the Russian automobile company), Boeing Aviation (leadership in robotic flight controls) and the North Korean Medical Psychology Institute. The project was sponsored by the Vatican and Amazon.
A year long evaluation of a prototype in the baron nuclear wasteland that was once Washington DC, with a volunteer, one Oswald Frump, had worked out exceptionally well. Except for getting Frump to give up his HC (Heidi) and re-join society at the end of the study.
Ambassador Donald Riel was known as a stable genius when it comes to finding diplomatic solutions to conflicts. Except in his personal life. Let's just say a two year mission away from his current, in fact all his ex wives and their lawyers was very attractive.
Evaluation to get his companion just right was extensive. Interview after interview, games that showed his temperament, digging deep into his personal life, including his internet history. Everything was recorded and evaluated by 'experts'.
But sleep monitoring was where things went a bit off the rails. His dreams were recorded. Even the deep sleep ones he didn't even know his subconscious was having. Then the 'experts' evaluated them too.
His companion was created to be his perfect mate. Prefect from her name, Erin, to her sweet gentle voice, that flowed like liquid honey. Her laugh a sweet tinkle that delighted him. She was witty with an encyclopedic knowledge, so they would never be without sparkling conversation. She was smart without being a know it all. She was programmed to have just the right amount of respect and deference without being dull and predictable. She could intuit his moods and needs.
Physically she was his dream girl. Petite, she came to his chin in bare feet. Her thick blond hair just touched her shoulders, but that could be changed at any time, as we'll discover later. Her facial features were a blend of ideals. Vivid blue eyes with a slight Oriental slant, a straight thin nose, high cheeks and lips that were just the right plumpness (is that a real word?) on a smallish mouth. Her breasts were just the right size, her waist thin, her hips just fine with buns you could really get a grip on. Her legs were shapely.
From their first introduction Donald could hardy believe she wasn't a real woman.
"Huh?" Her scent reminded him of the perfume the neighbor's nanny, Erin, wore. That Erin spoke English with a Scandinavian accent. She'd sit so close as she showed him the pictures in the adult magazine she found in her employer's den. His mind flashed on the embarrassment when his little pee pee did something it'd never done before, then how Erin showed him the magic pleasure he could get from it.
A month before the mission he and Erin moved into an apartment together. They didn't know it, but the place was festooned with pin point cameras and sound recording equipment. Donald literally couldn't take a dump without it being recorded and analyzed. When Erin was in 'sleep mode' the gleaned insights were downloaded into her processor. She was of course unaware of this.
Their first night was a bit awkward for Donald. He'd never bonked a lady he hadn't at least bought a drink for then seduced first.
Erin said, "Donald, it's getting late. Why don't we go to bed?" It was eight thirty.
He was embarrassed by his shyness. Erin wore a cotton sleeveless nighty that buttoned up from her knees to her chin. Not too sexy to scare him the first time, but not as sexless as the one his second wife wore that yelled "NOT TONIGHT!"
"Donnie? Would you help me undo all these buttons? Please?" What a sweet , almost shy inflection to her voice. Her soft hand started to stroke his cock.
God! When had he had a ride like that? Erin's hair fanned out on the pillow. The tip of her tongue moving back and forth between her soft lips. Her boobs jiggling just so with each of his thrusts. Her heels drumming his butt cheeks. And her pussy! Not just a warm wet hole. It gripped and rippled and massaged his cock as he drove Erin.
Then he came, and Erin did too, with a squeal of delight, even though in the excitement he'd lasted less than a minute.
Then she snuggled up to him like in the first months of his marriages when thoughts of lawyers and settlements were unimaginable. The day soon came for the voyage to begin. They were ferried up to high orbit, boarded and introduced to the ship. The Interplanetary Ship called 'Wanda' would be their surrogate mother, caring for nourishing, protecting and safely delivering them, her babies, to their destination.
The need of humans for 'alone time' has always been understood. Wanda's control module, the kitchen, bedroom, living room, entertainment and exercise modules were common areas. Donald's office, adjoining small bedroom and bathroom were his private spaces, unless he asked Erin to join him in the shower.
Of course she had no jealousy in her programming so his alone time didn't bother her. Her alone time was not an emotional need. Every six hours, convenient to Donald's schedule, she went into her closet. The coffin size device charged her batteries, cleaned her, did her hair and makeup, downloaded insights to her subconscious, cleaned up any computer viruses, and did any updating. All in ten minutes.
CH2 Three Month's Later.
Life was good.Wanda was on course and on schedule. She was gradually lengthening their days to the destination's thirty one and a half earth hours. All colonies used a twenty four hour local clock to avoid confusion.
Donald would go to the 'office' at nine, and read the dispatches and work on his proposal, preparing himself for the chore ahead. At four he'd go 'home' to his loving Erin. They'd often have a before dinner drink. They'd talk about Donald's day. No need to worry about sensitive information. Anything classified would be erased from Erin's memory on her next closet visit.
After supper they'd talk, read, play board games, like chess, listen to music or watch TV 'till bedtime.
That night was the first indication of a problem.
"Wanda? Where's my pajamas?"
"Oh, Donnie, didn't Erin mention it?" That should have alerted him. Of course Wanda knew everything that was said aboard. "She's getting bored of them so I changed them, Sweetheart. They're in the bottom left drawer."
Donald found a soft sheer pink knee length nightie with a fluffy faux fur collar and hem.
