The Gravity of Family

Rick settled into a chair at the café's secluded corner table, the one he had chosen days earlier for this not-so-pleasant reunion. He arrived first, as usual, his punctuality a habit hardwired over the centuries. Scanning the bustling café, he admired the fusion of classic and modern décor, a subtle reminder of the ever-blending eras. A young waiter approached with a polite smile, and Rick ordered a coffee, his eyes never straying far from the entrance.

“Glad to see you could make it, brother,” came a familiar voice, smooth and unwavering. Rick turned, his gaze meeting Gavin’s. His brother, though nearly three hundred years old, preserved his appearance with the vigor of a man in his early twenties, his face unmarked by time. Rick, in contrast, embraced his years; his hair peppered with distinguished gray, his face lined with wisdom rather than vanity.

“Gavin,” Rick acknowledged with a nod, motioning to the chair opposite him. “It's been a while, hasn't it?” Their last encounter had been at their father’s grandiose death-party, an event marked by celebration as much as sorrow.

Gavin took his seat, his suit absorbing the light around him, creating an eerie silhouette that seemed to challenge the very physics of vision. His features bore the youthful echo of their father in his prime.

“I've been... busy, is the best word for it, I think,” Gavin finally said, ordering a coffee as the waiter returned with Rick’s.

“Aren't we all?” Rick’s rhetorical question hung in the air. “I sincerely hope we can put that ugly matter behind us. It's not worth it, the dice fell the way they fell. You would have done the same in my position.”

Rick shook his head, a gesture of disbelief mixed with resentment. “You sabotaged my deal. That's not something I can easily forget.” He paused for a moment. “And, for the record, I would never betray you like that.”

Gavin dismissed the comment with a wave of his hand. “Then you're deluded. We all have Father’s blood in our veins, don't we?”

“If you’re asking for forgiveness—”

“I’m not,” Gavin cut in sharply. “I want to move past it, bury the hatchet, you know?”

“You’re not getting off that easily.” Rick took another sip of his coffee, his eyes locking with Gavin’s in a silent challenge. “I want something from you.”

Gavin’s attempt to switch topics was blatant. “Where is that doll of a sister, by the way?” he asked, his eyes darting around the café.

“She’s not here yet.” Rick’s voice was firm as the waiter placed Gavin’s coffee on the table. He folded his arms. “I want some recompense.”

“What were you thinking?” Gavin asked, his tone cautious as he sipped his coffee.

“I want a one-time twenty-four-hour access to one of your orbital production plants. No questions asked, no records made.”

Gavin hesitated, his coffee cup pausing mid-air. “That production time is costly.”

“Look, you wronged me, Gavin. Swooping in and stealing my deal was a low blow. Granting my request could end this dispute for a century. It’s a trifle to you. Just twenty-four hours.” Rick’s frustration was palpable; his need for access to the orbital plant was not just about recompense but crucial for his broader plans. Under his management, their company’s asteroid mining operations had thrived, ceasing all terrestrial exploitation.

Before Gavin could formulate a response, a light figure approached their table. It was Lisa, their sister, adorned in a pastel yellow sundress that glowed against the café’s backdrop. Her style mimicked the grace of their mother in her forties, yet she shared the same timeless aura as her brothers.

“Hello, wonderful sister of mine,” Gavin greeted, rising to embrace her warmly. “How are you?”

Rick stood and embraced her warmly. “And how are you, Rick?” Lisa’s inquiry came with a bright smile that softened the rugged edges of the moment. Rick was genuinely pleased to see her; her transformations over the years never ceased to fascinate him. This time, her presence brought a soothing reminder of their mother, especially in her mannerisms and gentle eyes.

“Busy, you know,” Rick replied, easing back into his chair. “Just trying to get Gavin here to repay me.”

“It can wait until we have completed the official business,” Gavin interjected quickly, keen to steer the conversation away from personal debts and towards broader concerns.

Their father’s passing had left a vast business empire teetering on the brink of dissolution due to impending federal legislation. Anticipating government intervention, the siblings had preemptively divided the conglomerate into three distinct sectors, each managed independently yet interlinked by necessity, given their father’s extensive ventures.

As their new round of coffees arrived, Lisa broached a critical topic. “The Venus Project. We need to finalize the funding,” she declared, setting her cup down with a definitive clink.

“Aerostats in Venus's atmosphere?” Gavin scoffed slightly, his skepticism evident. “I specialize in micro-gravity production. Delving into a gravity well that deep isn’t in my wheelhouse.”

Despite Gavin’s reservations, Lisa pressed on. “We’ve all seen the budget projections. I’m committing to forty percent of the needed funds. I’m hoping you two can meet me halfway.”

Rick, having just finished his coffee, caught the waiter’s eye for another as he weighed in. “The potential for expansion is clear. We need to broaden our horizons to other planets sooner rather than later. I’ll match Lisa’s forty percent.”

Gavin raised an eyebrow in surprise. “I didn’t know you were interested in that.”

Rick ignored the comment. “That leaves twenty percent for you, Gavin. Don’t disappoint your sister now.”

“It’s not my core business,” Gavin repeated, though his tone suggested resignation more than objection. He paused, considering as he took a sip from his fresh cup. “Fine. I’ll provide the twenty percent, but I expect continuous updates and no project delays.”

Lisa nodded, pleased. “And the aerostats will need to be manufactured in cislunar space. We can rely on you for that, can’t we?”

“Yes, at least up to my twenty percent contribution,” Gavin agreed, though his commitment seemed grudging at best.

Rick’s thoughts momentarily veered towards their father. Gavin’s focus on the bottom line, his calculated detachment—it was all so reminiscent of their late father. The realization didn’t warm his heart.

With the matter of the Venus Project seemingly settled, Rick redirected the focus. “Now, can we get back to my issue? Taking my deal was underhanded, Gavin,” he stated plainly, his voice carrying a mix of frustration and expectation.

Lisa supported Rick’s stance. “He’s right, Gavin. It was a low move. You really should make it up to him. You know how he holds onto things.”

Gavin played with his nearly empty coffee mug, his reluctance palpable. “Fine,” he conceded with a sigh. “A one-time twenty-four-hour access to an orbital production plant. Just let me know when.”

“Will do,” Rick said, his tone neutral but his mind already racing with plans.

After a few more pleasantries, Gavin and Lisa excused themselves, leaving Rick alone with his thoughts and the last sips of his coffee, the weight of the meeting lingering in the air and in his plans for the future.