Chapter 3

Kiran, realizing that they had limited time before the next briefing and a meal in the cafeteria, decided to educate himself regarding his harem -- and make no mistake, that's how he thought of them... "So," he asked, settling into a chair with the four of them kneeling before him, "Which of you is still a maiden?"

At least one of them failed to understand. "Master?" Kellie asked obsequiously.

Kiran sneered. "I would not expect YOU to understand. I asked who among you retains her maidenhead -- her virginity. Don't lie, since this is easily detected..."

But Kellie surprised him by glancing around and cautiously raising her hand -- as did Isobel. Amita and Sharmila did not.

Kiran was surprised. "Show me -- both of you! Turn around -- on your hands and knees. Spread your legs..." They weren't lying, either of them; the little rubbery dam of membrane was present in both -- most obviously in Kellie, actually. In some ways, it shouldn't have been a surprise, since she hadn't found her social equal to offer an alliance to -- or she thought she hadn't, anyway. But to Kiran, for whom 'blonde' and 'slut' were synonymous, it was a vast surprise. "Resume your positions," he directed, reseating himself. "So," his eyes swept the group, "the least of my possessions has provided me with a pleasant surprise -- and those who stand above her an unpleasant one." Amita and Sharmila withered visibly under his glare. "How is it that you have not debauched yourself?" he asked Kellie.

"With who?" Kellie asked. "Just any boy? Daddy would FREAK! I mean, REALLY!"

Kiran was unable to cover his amusement. "And now?"

Kellie licked her lips; fear made her cautious. "Things have... changed. I don't expect to have it much longer."

"You would be correct in any case," Kiran grunted. "My friend Sanket does not value virginity -- he had his woman give hers to strangers and old men. Perhaps I will vend yours to some deserving crewman for a favor of some type. What do you think of that?"

But an understanding of her position had finally been pounded into Kellie; she dropped her eyes. "You will do as you please -- and I will do what I have to do to please you."

Kiran steepled his fingers and gazed at her, eyes hooded. "Could it be that you learn that quickly?"

Kellie, who hadn't raised her eyes, replied softly, "I'm trying... Master."

Kiran grunted, but he was impressed. "Isobel, how is it that you are still a maiden?"

"I'm a good Catholic girl... Master."

"Religion doesn't always seem to be effective," Kiran replied, sweeping a glare over Amita and Sharmila. "Neither does morality."

Sharmila held her peace, but Amita erupted angrily, "Master has never had sex? And those girls are -- what? -- eighteen?"

"So, age has reduced your value?" Kiran said quietly, eyeing his manicure. "Interesting."

"Of course!" Amita retorted hotly. "In India our families would have arranged something for us by now! In America, things work differently... We are forced to..."

"Amita!" Sharmila hissed. "Be silent! You are not helping us! Master, she does not speak for me!" Sharmila was twenty-seven, and Amita was twenty-four -- and indeed, things WERE different in America -- but that wasn't going to be an excuse at this point.

"But she does!" Kiran retorted. "I find her explanation why you are both sluts to be most telling! And I find myself with a pair of young American virgins -- certainly something in short supply -- and a pair of timeworn Americanized Indian sluts who found it necessary to vend their virginity, yet still were unable to find husbands in vaunted America. I begin to understand why Sanket settled for aunties -- what's the difference? I cannot see any reason to hold the pair of you above these two, who are not only unsullied, but have not yet reached their expiration date..."

Sharmila, crestfallen, moaned, "I abase myself!" and tucked her head to the floor.

Kellie shifted her eyes fearfully between Sharmila and Kiran. Amita had paled, but not flattened herself. Isobel watched Kiran, too -- was this what he wanted?

Kiran eyed the group, his lips pursed, and made a decision. "It won't help, but YOU," he pointed to Amita, "may abase yourself!" Amita, flustered, went flat. Kiran turned his attention to Kellie. "While I continue to believe that you are a selfish, spoiled, empty-headed little fool, you HAVE improved your position with me. If you continue to adapt, you may actually find favor." He turned his attention to Isobel, "Placing the four of you in some order of precedence seems to be premature -- but you have offended my sensibilities the least. That may be blind luck -- we shall see. As for virginity -- I value it. If you do not anger me, I will take yours, with what I consider suitable ceremony. If I should offer it to someone else, obviously that would be an indication of disfavor..."

"Yes, Master." Isobel might not know all of the rules, but this one was clear. Fear and respect were paramount; step out of line and expect to get handed your head... The situation wasn't THAT unfamiliar to her; Papa had tended to rule with an iron hand if you got out of line, even though he was usually a benevolent despot. Thinking of Papa reminded Isobel -- Mama hadn't...

Elsewhere, the heat of the moment having relented somewhat, Inez came to the realization, too. Wringing her hands, she approached Sanket, who had collapsed in a chair. "Sir? I have made a mistake, perhaps..."

"Yes?" Sanket replied wearily. This whole multiple woman thing... Now he had Rachana -- but he also had Anne, and Donna -- and this one, for whom there was NO real justification...

"My husband..."

"I don't think you have one," Sanket replied. Looking up at the ceiling, he asked, "Right?"

"Correct," the AI replied. "The marriage is dissolved."

"If I went back..." Inez pled.

"That is not an available option."

"If I allowed it?" Sanket asked gently, knowing the answer.

"You may dispose of her, but she will not be returned to Earth," the AI insisted.

"I should tell Manuel," Inez husked.

"He will receive notification," the AI said flatly. "It has already been dispatched."

Sanket pursed his lips. "Is there anything more... personal?"

"This is not generally considered good for the stability of the sponsor's new family," the AI replied, "but it is your option. Former spouses have been known to become angry and attempt violence against the Confederacy. This usually ends in their death -- and mental anguish for the concubine. Direct communication is usually allowed upon arrival at the colony, as the family has usually stabilized by then."

"It would be better if I told him," Inez said softly.

"You must take care to present things positively," Sanket told her.

"Yes," Inez nodded.

"I will allow it," Sanket announced. "Perhaps for the others, depending upon how things go." He glanced around, but none of the others seemed to care.

"Does this person possess a cellular communications device?" the AI asked.

"A cell phone? Yes..."

"Please provide the number..." Inez did so. "It is ringing," the AI announced.

"Hello?" The sound appeared from the air around them, just as the AI's voice did, without an apparent source.

"Manuel?"

"Inez?"

"Yes." Inez sobered. "My husband, I have news."

Manuel became cautious. "What kind of news?"

"There was a pickup..."

"Pickup? One of those Confederacy things?"

"Yes." Inez gathered herself. "Isobel presented herself. I could not dissuade her."

"I see." On the ground, Manuel sighed. He would never see his daughter again -- but she was at least safe; he would have some legacy. Neither he nor his sons were going anywhere... "Was she taken, then?"

"Yes."

"Well, she is at least safe."

"Yes." Inez sucked in a breath. "My husband, that is not all."

"No?" Dread filled the man's voice.

"I was foolish. I feared for her. In the heat of the moment..."

"You presented yourself? You were taken?"

"Yes. My husband, I never meant to leave you! I was just so fearful! Terrible things were going on -- I feared for Isobel too much -- all I could think about at the time was protecting her!" Inez wailed.

"You are gone, too," Manuel husked in a dead voice.

The AI cut things off momentarily. "This does not appear to be helpful."

"I agree," Sanket declared. "Inez..."

Inez got a grip. "I will fix it now! Please!"

Sanket considered. "All right."

Meanwhile, Manuel was saying, "Hello? Hello?"

"I am back," Inez gathered herself. "I am sorry, Husband. I let my fear for Isobel rule me."

"She is well?"

Sanket raised a finger. "Yes," Inez replied. "She is well. I am well, also. Go to my sister Marta, my husband. I am told our marriage holds no force where I am, and I must bind myself to another -- therefore you should, too. We are safe, and I love you, but it will be some time before we can speak again."

"Your sister is not you, my wife."

"No, but she needs your help -- and you cannot help me. Give to her what you would give to me." Inez's sister was widowed and already somewhat on the family dole. "She owes you already, my husband. Tell her to... comfort you, as I cannot."

Manuel snorted. "I do not foresee THAT happening!"

"Tell her I said it is her duty. She will bend. She has always been... interested."

Manuel grunted. "And you? Will you move on?"

"I must, my husband -- I have no choice. My decision, foolish as it was, is irrevocable. Do not think ill of me, but I will be young again, and have more children, and watch over the children of others."

"So the rumors are true? You are in a harem?"

"Yes."

"This man who took you -- is he a good man?" Manuel asked.

"He took me so that I could watch over my daughter -- could he be anything but?"

"I guess not." Manuel paused for a bit. "I will speak to the priest about this, but..."

Inez actually became mildly irritated. "My husband, there is sin and there is sin. Even if we remain married in the eyes of God, we can no longer be together -- and I MUST cleave unto another! If the Church cannot deal with that, remind them that it is the only way I can be fruitful and multiply and provide God with soldiers for the coming battle!"

Manuel actually sounded eased. "THERE speaks my wife!"

Inez smiled. "You always needed my help to see the way, my husband! In the eyes of the law, we are parted -- perhaps not divorced, but annulled. God has found other uses for both of us. I love you no less, but we must do what we must do."

"Well... Your sister?"

"You always liked her breasts."

"Inez!"

"You think I didn't know? You think SHE doesn't? She will show them to you -- if you present my wishes correctly," Inez declared.

"I may have to wait for you to do so," Manuel replied. "I am not gifted with words."

"Take your time -- you may not have to say anything. If by the time we can speak again, she has not bent to your will, I will speak to her -- but I won't have to," Inez insisted. "I must go."

"I wish you well... Inez." 'Wife' didn't fit any more, did it?

"I wish you well. Harbor no anger against those I have gone with -- it was my own fault."

"I do not," Manuel sighed. "At least you are both safe. Take care of our daughter."

"I will do what I can. Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

After a short pause, the AI opined, "The situation appears to have improved. Vocal stress levels indicated acceptance of the situation."

"I thank you," Inez said to Sanket. "This was my mistake -- but my husband must live with it. A note saying we had been picked up would not have given him direction -- I needed to do that."

Sanket shrugged. "I am sorry that you feel that you made a mistake."

Inez shrugged. "I did what I thought best at the time. Whether it will help Isobel -- whether she even NEEDS my help -- only time will tell. YOU need my help and THEY need my help..." She pointed at Anne and Donna and Rachana, then shrugged and asserted, "It is a time to look to the future, not the past." She looked Sanket in the eye. "I will bear you strong sons and beautiful daughters -- and I will help these others who have never known motherhood. I know all about procreation; when you've made me comely again, I'll show you all about it!"

Sanket found himself moved to laugh. "I am sure you will!"

There was a transporter nexus two blocks from the Happy Days Nursery School -- a CAP testing station. Getting a vehicle proved to be less than difficult, too. Nothing unusual was really visible until they got out of the car in the parking lot of the school. Mickey was in her shift, though, and it barely covered the subject -- and Pete and Rick carried sidearms.

Little Lisa was there in the atrium, surrounded by twittering teachers. "Mommy!" She let go of the woman holding her hand and dashed to Mickey, who knelt to take her in.

Mrs. McPherson stepped up. "I gathered some crayons and a couple of reading books and such and put them in her backpack."

"Thank you."

"How... is it?"

"Ummm... Too early to tell, actually," Mickey related. "Not a place for a career woman --- soccer moms wanted, I think. Moms, anyway."

Mrs. McPherson looked wistful. "I'd like to do that again..."

Rick eyed her and decided to be blunt. "Are you still fertile?"

Mrs. McPherson looked offended. "Yes!"

Rick shrugged. "We're not done around here. You'll end up short a husband..."

"I'm no longer married," Ms. McPherson related. "We find it's simpler for the young ones if we don't get into confusing marital situations with them."

Rick eyed her. "Well this isn't marital bliss -- it's more like going to a party and getting drunk and waking up with your knees up and some guy you've never seen before getting you pregnant."

Ms. McPherson frowned. "You DO have a way of expressing yourself..."

"Okay, so, I'm goading you. You look stuffy. I'm not lying. It's luck of the draw." He turned to Mickey, "How fast did you end up naked?"

"Pretty fast." Mickey looked up from her daughter to reply quickly.

Rick assumed an 'I told you so,' expression. "Time to go. I'm sure you hang out in places where smart people go. Dress for success." He took the trail position as they departed so he could grin evilly at Ms. McPherson.

"Christ, Rick! Do you HAVE to play with them?" Pete grunted as they pulled out of the parking lot.

"The stuffy ones put me over into the dark side," Rick grunted. Turning to Mickey, he asked, "Do you have her cell or something?"

Mickey eyed him cautiously. "Why?"

"Maybe we'll tell her where we're jumping in next," Rick told her. "If she gets picked up, she'll owe me."

"Won't she have a sponsor?"

"I'm sure he'll be reasonable."

"I'm not sure you're a nice man," Mickey said cautiously, eyeing Lisa significantly.

"Well, I don't bite or anything," Rick replied, "but my concubines are several light years from here, you know? We get a lot of exposure, regularly -- and every once in a while... You understand. Besides, if one takes, it's good for genetic diversity."

Mickey wrinkled her nose. "I understand, I guess -- but it seems rather callous."

Rick laughed. "Honey, you haven't SEEN callous -- trust me!" He shook his head. "She wants to go, right? So what's she willing to pay? What did YOU pay?"

Mickey sighed. Put like that... "Whatever."

"We're coming up on the school," Pete announced. "Wait here in the car. Hold this."

"What is it?" Mickey asked.

"A holographic camera. In the unlikely event that they give me a hassle -- and I've been here before -- they can see you." He frowned and turned to Rick. "Isn't one of that Jolene's kids in school here?"

"Call her sponsor," Rick told the AI.

"This is Mike Fisher." They were standing in a corridor when the PDA Mike was carrying beeped and announced that he had a call.

"Ask Jolene if her kid is in Dylan Thomas Elementary."

Mike blinked. "Jolene?"

"Yeah. Tyrone is in second grade," Jolene grunted. "You gonna get him?"

"Yeah. We'll be back to get you for the other two."

"Cool. Thanks!"

"No sweat." Rick rolled his eyes. Pete nodded and got out of the car.

In a couple of minutes, the car's speakers lit up, "Miz Rawlins?"

"Yes?"

"Wave your hand or something so I know this isn't a recording, Ma'am. This is Mr. Purvis, the principal."

"Oh, hi, Mr. Purvis." Mickey waved. "Is that okay?"

"Just fine, Ma'am. You're withdrawing Petra, I understand."

"Yes, Sir."

"I understand that we'll be losing young Tyrone Wallace. Are you familiar with her mother, Jolene?"

"Um, well, I met her today, Sir."

"Could you describe her?"

"She's black and kind of mouthy. Do you need anything more in the way of a physical description?"

"Ummm, please?"

"She's kind of big in the chest, but droopy. I don't suppose you're aware that she wears nipple rings..."

"Ahem, thank you very much, Miz Rawlins. Actually, I WAS aware -- Miz Wallace tends to come to PTA meetings braless -- I think it's to scare people," Mr. Purvis chuckled.

"She's an attention-getter, all right..." Mickey laughed. "Well, you won't have to worry about her disrupting the PTA."

"I guess not. Thank you, Miz Rawlins. Um, does your husband know?"

"No."

"We're recording this for legal reasons...."

"Oh. I see... I'm sorry, Honey. I had to make a call, and the safety of the girls is paramount. Take care of yourself, and I'll call you if I can -- but I'm afraid we're divorced or something." Mickey shut up; she really couldn't think of anything else to say. 'I love you' seemed stupid...

"We have it."

"Thank you, Mr. Purvis."

"You're welcome, Ma'am. Good luck!" Background sounds stopped and Pete came out of the building with a nervous-looking Petra and a truculent-looking Tyrone (naturally).

Mickey turned to Rick. "Can I?" She pantomimed rolling down the window.

"Sure."

Mickey hit the button and leaned out. "Petra! Come on, Honey! It's okay!" After that, Pete only had Tyrone to contend with -- which was enough; Rick nearly used a stinger on him. The car, a two-door, was crowded; Lisa sat on her mother's lap, with Petra in the center and Tyrone on the right. Picking up the Gregory boy was flatly impossible, so they returned to the CPA testing site and transported out; coming through the transporter was the first thing that awed Tyrone enough to shut him up -- until he saw his mother.

"Mama! You're bare nekkid!" he howled, dashing over to her.

"Yeah, well..."

"What the fuck's goin' on?"

"Watch your mouth, Boy!"

"Sorry."

Jolene rubbed her son's head. "We're movin', Boy. Things have changed. We got a new place."

Tyrone eyed his mother. "You didn't pay the rent again?"

"No, that isn't it. I just..." She looked to Mike for inspiration, "um, got a new boyfriend."

"Oh." The look on Tyrone's face was long-suffering. "Where is he?"

"That's him." Jolene pointed out Mike.

"A white dude? Shit. How'm I gonna explain THAT at school?" Tyrone looked disgusted.

"You won't have to, Boy." Jolene stood there rubbing her face and wondering how it was all going to work out.

Pete turned to a crewman. "What's the word on siting for the other pickups?"

"We've got drones in place at both locations," the crewman assured him.

"Okay, Gregory first," Pete directed. "Get her a shift while we're gone, willya?" he added, pointing at Jolene.

"Right," The crewman nodded. "You're set to transport."

"Let's go." Pete nodded Mickey into the field, then followed; Rick took up the rear.

They were in a back yard; the neighborhood looked quiet. A dog went absolutely nuts two doors over on detecting them. Pete led the way to the back door of the house and rapped on it.

It took a minute or so for someone to answer; when it happened, a harried-looking man came to the back door, took one look, and opened up. "You'd be Mickey -- and I can see who they are... I was expecting you at the front."

"This is less conspicuous," Pete replied.

"Yeah..."

"Look, Mr. ah, Gregory -- we're playing this by ear. Nobody we know of has ever done a legal guardianship," Pete told him. "We need to be really sure about this. Where is your wife?"

"She hasn't come home. I don't think she wants to," David related. "It would just be stressful, you know?"

Pete grimaced. "I see."

"I got something from her at the restaurant," Mickey told Pete. "Mitch has it."

Pete flashed a look at Rick, but the AI piped up, "A handwritten document signed by one Bettina Gregory has been produced and recorded in Mitchell Francke's case file."

"Okay." Pete shrugged. "What do YOU think of this?"

"I... It will help Tyler, and it will help Betty -- and it will help me. "I'll miss him, but I can't care for him... Will I be able to see him?"

"We do hyperwave video from established sites," Rick replied. "Physically, you'd have to appeal to the eye of a female sponsor and get VERY lucky, but on video, yes."

"One day he'll need to know why..." David's eyes pled.

"I'll do my best," Mickey assured him.

"Let's see the document," Pete pressed. "We are very short on time."

David had produced something very official-looking with a word processor -- and had gotten it notarized. "A lawyer was impossible on short notice, but I got this off the web -- and oddly enough, you apparently don't NEED a lawyer..."

Pete eyed the paper. "I'm sold. Let's get him." Two minutes later, Mickey was holding her newest dependent -- a blue-eyed dark-haired smiling toddler.

"I don't know how to thank you," David gushed.

"Take care of Betty," Mickey replied. "I have -- had -- a husband named Brett -- he's in the book. Tell him..." She bit her lip. "Tell him anything that looks like it'll make him feel better, okay?"

"Sure." David patted her on the shoulder. Ninety seconds later, they were on the Catch-22.

"How do you get used to that?" Mickey asked, referring to transport. "Here, there, somewhere else..."

"Familiarity breeds contempt," Pete grunted. "Take them home," he directed Mitch, then turned to Jolene, who was wearing a shift. "Let's go."

Maisy Whitehead was standing at the sink when little Nishelle pranced in and announced, "Granma! Mama just came home with two guys in prison clothes!"

"Aww, SHIT!" Maisy grabbed a dish towel and headed for the living room. There stood Jolene -- but it looked like SHE was in prison clothes, not the men she was with; they looked military... "What's she done this time -- and what's it gonna cost me?" Maisy groused.

Rick snorted. Pete managed not to grin while he announced, "It's not like that, Ma'am. Your daughter has been selected as a concubine and is emigrating to the colonies. We're here to pick up the children."

"She WHAT? You don't know nobody they'd want on them colonies, girl! What the Hell kinda fool would pick YOU to take somewhere like that?"

"Well, a stranger..." Jolene got out.

"No shit!" Maisy peered at Pete and Rick over her eyeglasses. "One o' you?"

"No, Ma'am," Pete answered. "We, uh, need to move on, here. You should give the kids a hug -- I'm afraid it's the last time you're going to see them in the flesh."

"This is a mistake," Maisy countered. "Y'all don't want to do this."

"It's done, Ma'am. We're just picking up the pieces," Rick said carefully.

"Well, understand, now -- I'm all for it -- but Jolene and marriage..." Maisy had taken note of Rick's stance.

"It isn't marriage, Mama -- more like he owns me," Jolene offered.

"Well, that might give him a leg up," Maisy opined. "If he beats the shit out of you a couple of times...." She eyed the Marines over her glasses. "Is that allowed?"

"Yes it is, Ma'am," Pete replied.

"You tell whoever this man is that I said don't spare the rod!" Maisy turned toward the kitchen. "I'll get Broaddus out of his high chair."

"Not exactly a glowing recommendation," Rick muttered to Jolene.

"She's just getting' her licks in," Jolene replied. "She'll change up. Come here, Nishelle." She held out her arms to her daughter.

"Is that really prison clothes?" Nishelle wanted to know.

"No, not really, Hon."

Maisy was a lot more subdued when she came back out of the kitchen with Broaddus straddling her wide hip. "They gonna be all right?" she asked Pete.

"That's the plan, Ma'am," Pete nodded.

Maisy handed Broaddus to her daughter and then hugged her. "You behave yourself. Y'all got telephones?"

"Yes, Ma'am, but she'll be out of range for a few weeks while in transit," Rick related.

"Who do I ask for?" Maisy asked while squatting to cuddle Nishelle. "Say goodbye to Granma, Honey." She looked back up. "What's this man's name?"

"Mike Fisher, Ma'am," Pete replied.

Maisy blinked suspiciously. "Don't sound black..."

Jolene coughed. "He, uh, isn't, Mama. He's white."

"He's WHITE? God help him!" Maisy looked at the ceiling and shook her head. "God help him." She stood and kissed little Broaddus on the cheek and hugged Nishelle to her, then took Jolene in her arms. "For God's sake, behave yourself, child. You've been given this chance -- don't fuck it up!"

"I'll try not to, Mama," Jolene promised solemnly.

"Thank you, Boys, for comin'." Pete found himself being hugged. Rick got out of the way. Maisy pushed Jolene toward the door. "Git, before I start cryin'! You do right by that poor motherfucker, Girl!" Then they were in the hallway and the door was closed behind them.

"Your whole family..." Pete shook his head.

"Yeah, I know." Jolene dashed the tears from her cheeks and took Nishelle's hand. "Let's go."

In orbit, Tyrone and Mike were staring out the port at the Earth. "This is cool..." Tyrone mused. "Hey, I didn't mean nothin'..."

"I figured," Mike replied, pretending to be distracted. "If you had to hold your head up where you come from, it could have been a problem. Where we're going, though..."

"Where ARE we going?"

"You know, I don't know," Mike muttered. "I really don't know. All I know is it will be a new place -- for all of us."

"Are you gonna do the Dad thing?" Tyrone asked.

"We'll see. I don't know anything about it."

Tyrone snorted. "Neither did the last couple of guys."

Mike eyed him. "How old are you, really? Forty?"

"I'm nine."

"Seen a lot, though, huh?"

"Yeah, some." Tyrone eyed Mike. "You don't look like the type that can handle Mama when she starts yelling."

"So I hear," Mike sighed. "There are going to be different rules. I'm not gonna let your Mama yell."

"How you gonna stop it?"

"I don't know yet."

Tyrone just looked at Mike and shook his head.

Jolene was subdued when she arrived. "I'm sorry you didn't get to say goodbye to your granma, Boy."

Tyrone blinked. "Is she okay?"

Jolene nodded. "She's okay."

"She was fine this morning."

"Yeah." Jolene looked like she was going to cry.

Pete pointed up the hallway. "Get settled in. Dinner in three hours in the cafeteria."

"Let's go." Mike waved Tyrone ahead of him. "Here, you want to carry this? Make sure we go where the arrow points..."

"Cool!" Tyrone took control of the PDA and led them off, Jolene carrying Broaddus on a hip and leading Nishelle by the hand.

"I think we should have warned him," Rick opined.

"Nothing beats learning it yourself," Pete argued.

"About the McPherson chick..."

"Rick, she's forty, or damned near -- why her?"

"I like doing the uptight ones..."

"You're bad, Man. Bad." They headed off to prepare things for the gathering in the cafeteria.