Unfortunately...

I will not be in attendance this evening. I have to do some other crap...trust me, though, I'd much rather be at the meeting tonight. Here is what I have of my story thus far, feel free to make comments here, or at the meeting tonight. Sorry.


“Dr. Leibowitz and I have never seen eye-to-eye on the subject of murder in the tens of thousands.” Dr. Marco Weir sat in the quarters of Captain Frank Blackney. His comment had been addressed to Blackney himself, but the aged Christopher Leibowitz, who had been in adjoining room, perked up at the mention of his name.
“Murder, as you call it, Dr. Weir, in the name of life. If we were to allow the kind of population overgrowth as is possible in the kind of environment, we would have no food to eat. However, that would be of little consequence, considering that we would be dead due to lack of breathable air.” Leibowitz sat next to Marco Weir on a choking flower print red sofa.
Captain Blackney joined the two men with a pitcher of water and three glasses, each with spoonful of brown, granulated powder at the bottom. After distributing the glasses, the captain poured each of the vessels full with the crystalline water, which turned immediately brown on contact with the powder.
“Gentlemen,” Blackney raised his glass, “here’s to fifty years of striving, and to success in the next fifty years.” The three men – the ship’s elders – drank down the solution and placed their glasses on the small, plastic table in front of the sofa. The term “elders” was actually a misnomer, as two of the men – Captain Francisco Blackney and Dr. Marco Weir – were only in their thirties, and thus were born on the Pequod II. Only Dr. Leibowitz had been alive before the Earth was tapped of its resources, and he was the only one in the room who knew that the brown powder left in the captain’s chambers tasted nothing at all like bourbon.
“What do your robot terrorists have in mind for the innocent people of our ship this time, Chris?” The question posed by Dr. Weir was meant in jest, but this subject resonated deeply with Marco and the members of his medical staff, as well as any dispensable human on the ship.
“Leave it to a medical man to rescind on a perfectly proposed, necessary function of existence. The people on this ship have disturbing abundances of free time, and choose to spend that time with members of the opposite sex.” Leibowitz’s iron mouth cracked a metallic smile, and then retained its customary look of somber sophistication.
“Wait one minute, friend, I never agreed to this idea. Hell, I was’t even born yet! This idea was shoved down everyone’s throat by you and your robotics people. You knew the Earth had damned itself to hell, and its people had no time to argue. You simply took advantage of that situation. You had no respect for any sciences other than robotics.”
“But, Dr. Weir, robotics is the only science.”