This is my entry to the New Scientist science fiction competition (340
words, open until mid-October).

The New Europans

Jenkins crashed out in the living quarters, 'mushroom juice' leaking
from his lips, eyes bright, mind given up to peace. Europa was hard,
desolate work. A slug of his now cold potion and I joined his dream.
The transit ship was due tomorrow to take our bodies back to a bliss
of gravity they could understand and time away from the plasma bubbled
protection from cosmic radiation death that was the truth of space-
work. Earth was still the only home we could know, even after the wars
of the mid-twenty-first Century. There were homes elsewhere in the
universe. Europa had given up peculiar life from its underground
ocean, living on radiation and gravity-rift energy from Jupiter and
different paced transits of its main moons. Jenko motioned to take
another sip of the foul swill that eased the pull of competing
gravitation, to dream of not being human or of sweet women and cold
beer on sun-warmed sands. I eased the bowl to lips marked by the
strange burn of apparently purified water from the depths below, then
set some stew to fester on the geo-thermal stove. Dull stuff, but
better than we'd get on the weightless voyage and exercise regime via
Moonbase Three to our eco-bubble on Earth. We liked to pretend to
survive our six-month shift like civilised men discussing philosophy.
Other crews were carried out babbling and feet first. This concern
with 'face' was a vestige of what was left Anglo-Saxon in our DNA.
Chris, the younger man was more spliced up than me and hacked the
conditions better until boredom loomed on us like a fog. He was too
young to remember fog. I slumped beside him, a last knowing look
between our eyes that the morning, whatever one was in these
artificial conditions, began our trip to the cold lager we remembered
and the women who had forgotten us. New life rested quietly in the
sample flask. A first hope, perhaps, of a future beyond the human.

The idea is to write a few words based 100 years from now.
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