Chapter 2

Next Sunday the older folks stayed away. A third of the families were missing. Silas told the story of Gideon. In Judges 7, those few Israelites who were chosen from the many, as they were able to prove their worth. He used the slogan of the US Marines, 'a few good men'. He added Christian as an adjective. There needed to be those who would take what is Godly to the stars. Silas equated the Sa'arm to the worshipers of Ba'al.

This had a strange effect. Silas' ideas were tolerated more than embraced. Attendance increased the following Sunday. Several requests for change of membership arrived. He replied to each 'promise of a letter' by acknowledging that the individuals were members of Mount Elba Baptist Church.

Silas was able to find on an unofficial Wiki page about the Confederacy what purportedly was the speech given to people before they became concubines. It could be best described as brutally graphic, at worst, a verbal Viking raid. Silas knew he would need to express and convey the reality of the betrothal with each participant individually. The first betrothal ceremony was a week from Saturday. The Friday before, at seven o'clock, he would speak with the participants. That gave him just over a week to create everything.

Thursday morning he heard a knock at the door. Silas opened a door and discovered Sergeant Kinsman and another man. The pair looked like they were ready to go hunting. The backside of the church property did border on prime hunting land. Local hunters often used the parking lot to meet up. There was an old table on the parsonage's outer porch that they would leave notes where the hunters were going in case of an emergency.

"C'mon in," Silas brought the two inside the enclosed porch without much of a fuss. He closed the door, "Good to see you again, Sergeant." Silas pointed at the pegs on the wall. "Leave the heavy coats here; let's go inside, I'm freezing." The sergeant's companion carried a briefcase.

Silas closed the door. He pointed at the couch. "Coffee?" He walked into the kitchen. A breakfast bar opened to the great room. "Who is your friend there, Sergeant?"

"Pastor Merchant, this is Legate Hightower, Legate Hightower, Pastor Merchant."

"Pastor Merchant," Hightower called. "I'm Ralph."

"Only if I get to be Silas, sugar or creamer?"

"Two sugars, black," Ralph Hightower answered.

Kinsman called out, "Straight black, Pastor."

On the tray, he carried three cups. He sat down at the chair across from his guests. He placed a cup before each of them. "How can I help you gentlemen?"

"I'm here about your pending ceremony." Ralph took a sip. "Your most recent sermons have placed additional requirements on Confederacy volunteers."

Silas smiled. "I did not know my authority had such a vast reach."

"The differences between what is the reality in the colonies and the picture you paint are galactic in scope." Ralph stated this as a matter of fact. "The AIs set the rules. We can not make those machines change."

Silas decided to counter the argument. "Are these absolutes of minimum behavior or expected behavior?" Silas read the men's faces. They had no direct obvious response. Everyone took a sip, stalling as they thought.

"Do either of you have children in the Confederacy?"

"I have three, two by pick-up adoption," Ralph spoke with a small smile, "and one born last week."

They looked at the sergeant. "The first one arrives next month."

"Think of how you would treat their mothers." Silas paused. "Are they not disposable? Could you not trade them away? Aren't they just toys to be shared?" The sergeant's face had turned slightly red. The muscles above the legate's left temple fluttered. "Think of those as rhetorical questions."

"People will live down at their most base level unless they have a goal." Silas grabbed a bible on the coffee table. "I did not seek to change the rules, just how they are applied."

The legate probed Silas's position. "Those applications would be what?"

"The old testament has certain rights and responsibilities of husbands, toward wives, concubines, and slaves." Silas took stock of their reactions. "The ability to remove a servant from the household is clear. However, it also dictates that the children are to be the master's children. If he adds additional servants, he cannot deny the first servants sustenance, comfort, or marital relations. Just think about the family structure for the next generations. Many studies show abuse of children, spouses, substances, you name it. These actions are predominately learned and emulated behaviors. Biblically, this is the passing of the sins of the father to the child."

"How then," Legate Hightower sat up straight, "does having some non-binding religious mumbo-jumbo help that?"

Silas took another sip. "I can't provide an answer, as I have no practical experience with Confederacy Families. However, I can draw this analogy. I need a pen and paper."

Silas stood and headed toward the breakfast bar. Ralph opened his briefcase, which promptly spilled onto the floor. "Got a pen." He and the sergeant quickly picked up the scattered documents.

"Noted," Silas returned with a letter-sized notepad and the coffee carafe. He topped off his cup. Then he looked for approval before refilling their cups.

"I'll make this analogy with students. I am thinking of the second generation born in space." Orienting the page to a landscape view, he drew a vertical line, further dividing the paper. "On the right, I'll place a Confederacy family. The head of this family can treat their servants any way they wish. On the left, a head of a family that treats their servants as persons whom they are responsible for." Silas wrote the number 100 on each side. "These are the 100 children from each type of family, half male, half female. Based on my experience, I predict only about ten boys and one girl of these children," he pointed at the right side, "to overcome the demonstrated poor examples of loyalty, leadership, and empathy... Do I need to continue?"

Ralph looked at Silas. "I am beginning to see your point."

"These hundred here would have family dynamics similar to existing homes on Earth: a leader to emulate, the loyalty of family, the example of compassion... ." He looked at both men. "The ratio of these children, I would place at the present pickup level of forty boys and seven girls as future sponsors."

"Guys," the sergeant spoke up. "The AIs will not change."

"Yes, but..." Ralph tapped his fingers. "If it can be shown that it helps produce more sponsor-level candidates, the AIs might change."

"I never meant to change anything," Silas admitted. "I just wanted to make the concubines' lives better."

The sergeant and legate smiled. "Sorry, but there is potential here," Ralph added. "Let's move onto the ceremony. Once we have it fleshed out, we'll post it on the Sa'arm Wiki Site."

"I have one scheduled for a week from Saturday," Silas stated, "in the sanctuary."

Friday evening, Silas welcomed Joey Martin, and his... well harem, into the parsonage. They sat in the great room. Silas had hot water ready to make tea or hot chocolate. On the coffee table were a few finger foods. "Before we discuss the ceremony, I need to make sure you understand the implications." He placed an opened folder next to the carrot sticks. A full-page flier for Average Joes was revealed. "Yes, I have seen the Blue-Ray." Silas smiled. No one could meet his quick gaze. "Joey, why these four?"

"Dena and I have been friends since fourth grade. Elsie, well we went steady in middle school. Gigi is friends with them both, I only met her two months ago." Joey looked at the last woman, who was twelve to fifteen years older than he was. "Barbara has lived next door for seven years."

"Why, Joey?"

He was looking at Barbara. "To maintain my standing for my scholarship at the community college, I have to do fifty hours a semester of volunteering. I do mine through the Garland County Youth Athletic League. David and Daniel have been on my teams this year. Stuff I have read says I need a good mother. Her boys are good kids. Whether with me or not, she needs to escape Earth."

Barbara Gore had a few tears streaming down a cheek. She leaned over and hugged Joey. He held her for a moment. Gigi, Elsie, and Dena joined the hug. Whispering something into Joey's ear, Barbara kissed his temple and then sat down.

"This," Silas brought the focus of attention on himself. "This is a family. Not just a collection of people thrown together." Joey seemed to be blushing. "Keep going, Joey."

"Gigi and Elsie," Gigi looked away and Elsie tensed up. "To be honest they are presently together," Joey paused, seeming to wait for a reaction, "because of some recent past bad experiences. They are willing to go with me due to how Dena says I treat her." Joey grabbed Dena's hand. "Dena, I love. I need to be with her." He kissed Dena.

Silas waited until the group settled down. There was a rush for the bathroom. Silas sat with Joey. "I need to make sure they understand the reality of the situation. I am not going to get graphic, but I am going to show them you are in charge."

"I think I understand." Joey sounded resolved to get through the ordeal. Six minutes later, the ladies had returned.

"What I am about to say, will appall you." Silas stood as he spoke. He needed to look down at the girls to create a mind set. "If you become a concubine, you will have no legally guaranteed rights." Silas stopped and looked at each of them. "Joey will own you. He will have the right to punish you. In some cases, he may be required to punish you for some small infractions. You have no recourse but to obey. The AIs can even order you be put to death." Joey had become the center of the visual attention. "Joey will have the right to trade you in for any reason. He can lend you out to other Confederacy sponsors. If Joey so chooses he can alter your body size, shapes, color, markings..." Only Barbara did not flinch at these revelations. "If Joey is deployed, he may be forced to leave you at the base under the care of the AIs." Silas stopped.

"He could do that?" Dena asked, wide-eyed. Joey appeared to shrink into the couch.

"Dena, that's the reality of the choice you are making." Silas moved closer to tower over them. "You have to trust that Joey will keep you. Joey has to trust that none of you will misbehave."

"So we are just property," Elsie half whispered.

"More like a brood mare," Silas quipped. "Your job is to pop out Joey's children and keep Joey happy."

"Elsie, we know going in what's expected." Gigi grabbed her hand. "You've known Joey for a long time. Everything you described about him has been true." Pulling her hand up, Gigi kissed Elsie's fingers. "The four of us can keep a big smile on his face."

"Normally Joey would not have to make promises or assurances. He, however, wants to follow the tenets of the Old Testament." Silas picked up his Bible. "In our modern society, these tenets are unneeded. They were created to protect those women in the ancient world who had no other protections." Silas took time to let the words sink in. "He is agreeing to treat you as slave-concubines. Placing you higher, in his eyes alone, than in the eyes of any others in the Confederacy."

Joey joined Silas in the kitchen. To be honest, Silas led Joey into the kitchen. Joey sat at the kitchen table. Silas opened the cabinet over the refrigerator. He grabbed a large purple tinged decanter. Setting it on the table, he grabbed two small Dixie cups. Pulling the top off, Silas poured each cup half full. He replaced the top, then returned it to the cabinet. "Drink."

Joey threw the whiskey back. Silas could see little if any effect the single malt had on the man. While Silas downed his, Joey finally spoke. "That's a lot of power over them."

"Yes, it could become very tempting."

"Even if I made promises here on Earth, they aren't binding in the Confederacy." Joey stared straight ahead.

"That is what the whole group needs to understand." Silas patted the younger man's upper arm. "Once you've been extracted, it is your choice only that ultimately matters."

"This is not fair." Joey put his head on the table.

Barbara pushed the swinging door open, putting her head in the kitchen. "Can we do this naked?" She ducked away.

"She did it," called one of the other girls.

"High five me, girl," called another.

Silas stepped through the door. "You will wear clothes. This is happening in the sanctuary."

Joey waited at the side of Reverend Silas Merchant. Dressed in his nicest suit, he smiled as the women walked toward them. They wore simple knee length flower print dresses. For an hour last Friday night, the girls had pushed Silas to let them be nude. Silas finally admitted he would let them be naked, but only if the ceremony would take place on the front steps of the church. There was no longer snow on the ground. However, the high the Saturday evening was to be seven degrees above freezing. Faced with the reality of the temperature, nudity lost out to warmth and clothing.

No music accompanied them on their trek. The pace needed to be somber. It was significant and necessary that they came to meet Joey. Once in front of the pulpit, they stopped. Dena dropped to her knees facing Joey. She looked up at Joey. He reached out to stroke her cheek.

"We are here tonight," Silas began, "to form a bond between this man and these women who will agree to be his servants." Silas looked up at Joey. "Repeat after me, I Joseph Robert Martin."

"I Joseph Robert Martin," Joey took a breath.

"Take Deanna Clare Jackson as my handfast concubine, at such time that I am extracted," Silas waited for Joey to finish. "And therefore I pledge to accept you to become my chattel." Joey teetered but remained upright as he finished. Dena beamed a smile at him.

Silas turned to Dena. "Repeat after me, I Deanna Clare Jackson, do today take Joseph Robert Martin to be my lord and master," Silas was surprised that Dena seemed more comfortable in her repetition, "refusing all others for your sake, and therefore I Deanna Clare Jackson give over to you my individual sovereignty and place you, Joseph Robert Martin, in dominion over me."

Dena leaned forward and kissed the bulge in Joey's pants. Silas could only glare. Three more kisses and twenty minutes later Silas walked the group to the parking lot.

"Joey," Silas pulled him closer. He slipped a box into Joey's jacket pocket. "Use protection."

A red-faced Joey joined the group loading into the mini-van. Silas went to enter the betrothal into his computer, and sent to the Confederacy registry.