Chapter 17

For the first two weeks on the ship, Maggie watched. Ever since her parents had divorced, she'd learned to be 'seen and not heard'. Over the last five years, her mother and she lived in the same apartment, on their own.

Her mom had dated off and on during that time. Recently, she had been seeing a guy named Robert. He was really nice and her mom laughed more with him in her life.

Mrs. Carlson no, she had to refer her as Tiffany -- Tiffany never said, "I'll be your mom." The actions and comfort given by Tiffany helped. Maggie would always miss her mom.

Maggie sent videos back to Earth. The first reply came a few days after being on the ship. She sent back four more before they went into hyperspace. On the last one, she asked Robert to watch over her mom. Thereafter, she made one every few days, to be sent back to Earth once the Kon Tiki arrived at Wayward.

Tiny black hairs started showing up between her legs. The area under her nipples felt tender. Talking with Tiffany confirmed her suspicions. At twelve, Maggie had started puberty. So far, everything seemed to be going easy.

Maggie changed the time she showered every night. Over the past month Bert, Ted, and even Randy had started developing muscles. They were nowhere near the ones Mr. Jenkins or Ray-ray sported. In the shower spray, those muscles flexed. Often their cocks sported stiffies.

Tonight, Maggie liked the shape of the butts the best. Wiping her mound brought a tiny shudder. Maggie realized no one was watching her. She stroked the hooded part in the middle. Leslie had called it her clit. Another shudder shook her bodily. Turning to prop her head on the shower wall, she closed her eyes and continued.

"Maggie," that was Bert's voice. "Do you want privacy?"

Opening her eyes, she saw Bert standing next to her. She looked down. Bert had a good stiffy. She shook her head no.

"I'll go back to my shower." He walked back over to his showerhead.

Maggie watched the butt muscles flex on his return. Reaching back between her legs, Maggie continued, this time watching Bert. He looked back and started stroking himself. Slickness, not soap, much more syrupy than she imagined, coated her fingers.

Her awareness seemed to intensify. Bert never looked away. This was a shared experience, very intimate even though they were over ten feet apart.

A sound to the right caught her attention. Darting her eyes, she saw Louis jacking hard on his penis. Looking back to Bert, it struck her. Louis was watching Bert, not her.

Maggie refocused her eyes on Bert. He thrust his hips forward and grunted as cum shot toward her. Seeing Bert's eyes clinched, she looked back to Louis. He stared only at Bert. Her first orgasm rocked her body. She slipped to the floor. How long it lasted she couldn't tell.

Bert came over to see about her. "Are you OK?"

She could only nod. Grabbing both of Maggie's forearms, Bert lifted her to a standing position. Feeling his power in the act caused her heart to flutter. Burt placed her under the water stream, rinsing her clean.

"We'll be late for dinner." He turned and headed to the exit.

Maggie enjoyed the show. She followed him out, grabbing her own towel. Bert grabbed a pair of shorts and a tank top. He watched her watching him. Returning the favor, he kept his eyes on her while she finished toweling off and dressed.

Bert walked her to the lift. Together they descended to the lower level.

Leslie led the other concubines through the initial Tai Chi forms. They had started performing them as a way to familiarize themselves with their new bodies. Several times, it had helped spice up their bedroom. Keeping the boy's hands blocked from grabbing flesh for a few minutes built tension.

Understanding the positions was one thing; fluidly transitioning between them took practice. The exercise regimen built a bond between the concubines. It also allowed Leslie to gauge the effectiveness of sleep training. Having the knowledge did not make one proficient in the art.

Tiffany demonstrated the benefits of dedicating time and effort in the application of sleep training. In light of her recovery, she had concentrated on any physical activity to help better her body control.

Trying to mesh and find common ground with Joyce, Leslie had chosen a sleep training course that Hobson surmised would give her the basic knowledge to work with macramé ropes. Leslie thought it would make learning macramé easier. She was wrong. Leslie couldn't get the proportions right to her eye. Joyce encouraged her, telling Leslie about early disasters she had made while learning.

Finding the work challenging, Leslie stuck with it. She even asked Hobson if the Darjee understood the concept of factory seconds. After conferring with the Kon Tiki's AI, Hobson announced a proposal would be sent to the Darjee Trading Council.

Leslie took her experiences at amateur macramé and years of surviving teaching middle school and began formulating a plan. The majority of current educational convention revolved around sleep training and a practicum. Leslie viewed this as an oversimplification. Aptitude, interest, and drive; these were prevalent in most successful people. The education system would need to foster critical problem solving. Some components of critical thinking could be taught and some developed over time; the real trick would be getting them to coalesce and function.

"Hobson," Leslie found it hard to tone down her enthusiasm. "Do you have any information on the Mind Meld competitions?"

"I have information on both the organization and the competitions."

"Could the information on both parts be made available?"

"The information is accessible on any interface in the pod."

"Good. Hobson?" Leslie had an evil thought. "What are the copyright laws out here in space?"

"I need you to clarify the context of your question."

Leslie took a moment to phrase her response. "I want to hold a Mind Meld Competition on Wayward." She paced across the floor; formulating her thoughts. "Having the students apply creative solutions to Confederacy problems should help produce more effective individuals." She stopped and turned, looking at the spot where Hobson's voice had emanated from. "We might even find some ideas worth exploring."

Hobson did not answer as quickly as usual. "Leslie, there is a great deal of potential in your proposal. The leadership opportunities present in the team activities warrant implementation. Some modification of the rules will need to take place. A request will be placed on an available superluminal drone to pay the fees for an educational franchise."

Leslie had to think a minute. A franchise opened the ability to change the problems. Then it dawned on her. That would give the franchised institution the ability to add challenges at local and regional events. The steering committee could tailor events for the Confederacy. "That, my friend, is excellent."

"The colony AI will be a member of the steering committee."

Leslie realized then that Hobson was part of a large network. She wanted to console Hobson, even though he had no emotions. Over the time spent traveling to the colony, she had begun to think of Hobson as a person. "I would have preferred working with you, Hobson."

"I can and will serve as your connection to the colony AI while you are working from the pod."

Nodding, Leslie wished the franchise would stay a Jenkins' affair. Hobson was a part of the family.

Thinking of family, "Hobson?" Leslie redirected her thoughts.

"Yes."

"Are there any concerns with the brood?" She walked to the entrance of the study. With Bill helping to flesh out the colony, Leslie had moved into mother hen mode for her former students. She had instituted a daily journal. Back in her classroom, Leslie once used these to get her students to focus their thoughts on writing and research projects. No one complained now. It provided a bit of familiarity and a sense of normalcy, especially since it wasn't for a grade.

"Eve has expressed some concern that the baby is starting to show and others will think she is fat." Leslie placed her hand on her own midsection. "June is beginning to request sleep trainings that will improve her overall CAP score. Louis is becoming more voyeuristic."

"Have the subjects complained?"

"Based on my observations, only one party was aware that Louis was watching."

"Can I view the incident please?"

Leslie moved the orientation of the perspective around the shower. Splitting the screen, she observed where Louis was watching.

"Hobson," Leslie tapped her fingers rhythmically together.

"Leslie, do you require something?"

"I need to see any of Louis's entries when he refers to masturbating or seeing something he considers sexually exciting."

Fifteen entries appeared on the screen. Leslie opened he first file.

Of the nineteen hundred and thirty-six people on the Kon Tiki, one hundred and thirty two met the parameters to be classified as potential Mind Meld participants. Of that number, eighty-seven students and twenty parents sat in the cafeteria.

Leslie stood to address the group. "Welcome, this is an organizational meeting of the First Confederacy Mind Meld Competition." It felt normal; much like hosting a parent night. "We want to help our children become productive entities in the Confederacy. To do this, we need to have our children learn to apply themselves in problem solving and leadership in our new reality." Behind Leslie, the wall changed to show the stylized Mind Meld logo on the wall. "Each pod AI has the specifics of the competition."

The floor changed to show three sectors of a circle: red, blue, and yellow. "Kindergarten through second grade will move to the yellow floor, third to fifth grade blue, finally sixth to eighth red."

Minutes later, the migration started quickly to the children's appropriate sector. Three first grade boys from Melbourne baulked. They did not want to be yellow. The concubine with them ignored their protest and, once they moved the room was ready. Once they were hushed, Joyce spoke. "Please pay attention to the informational display from the Kon Tiki's AI."

In the middle of each sector, a three-foot tall woman in a lab coat appeared. Each age group received a modified presentation. "Hi, I'm Mona, Professor Hardaway's concubine assistant." The k-2 group had a bumbling red head that looked a bit like fourteen-year-old Misty Jenkins. Her lab coat barely contained her bust. Each time she bounced, her bare bottom half peeked out, revealing a Mind Meld circled brand tattoo. "Professor Hardaway is in trouble for not propagating the human race. He has some duties to perform in the bedroom with me." She giggled, inspiring a few scoffs, soft jeers and a smattering of giggles. "If your team can find a solution for one of these problems, Dr. Hardaway can put a future scientist in my tummy."

Leslie was surprised at the K-2 Mona presenter's affect on the kids. Being interactive, Mona was able to secure several teams' promises to help her and the professor by solving the problems.

No one admitted to creating Mona. Leslie had her suspicions, heightened every time Ray-ray started laughing and playfully begging Misty to 'moan away'. Hobson refused to answer her inquiries.

The Jenkins household housed three Mind Meld teams, each picking a different problem.

Team Ninja Raiders, a k-2 group, was working on the Slow the Swarm Problem. Their solution centered on giant hooked nets. How to launch the nets without using Confederacy technology dominated their think time.

Karl and Ben pushed for catapults to toss the nets high enough to trap an area of five thousand square feet. Following the rules of the competition, Hobson only answered direct questions and never suggested alternatives.

The other team members, Kurt and Lilly, wanted to launch exploding bolas to entrap and disable individual troopers. To keep the marines safe, remote control planes would be modified to operate close to the ground to avoid detection.

Hobson and the Kon Tiki AI began to see the advantages of the competition. The participants were applying not only the knowledge they possessed but they also found gaps in knowledge to be addressed. Often, the abstract concepts were beyond the teams' ability to comprehend.

When questioned about how young children could ever understand abstract concepts beyond their capacity to grasp, Bill Jenkins stated, "Even Einstein admitted he could not understand calculus until he was twenty-two." The use of analogy became a form of training abstract concepts.

Two Grade 6-8 teams tackled separate Mind Meld Problems. The eleven and twelve-year-old boys gravitated to the Special Delivery Problem, resupplying troops in the field using a low-tech delivery system capable of servicing a squad. Getting the supplies to survive the drop through the atmosphere became the initial hurdle.

Addressing the Divide and Conquer were the Powder Puffs. Jackie came up with the idea to separate Swarm units from the whole. She took inspiration from the ordeal Tiffany had suffered. Jackie asked Tiffany if it would be OK with her. Tiffany agreed. The girls started pouring over any data on Swarm physiology.

Edith worked with a group of girls from the Pre-Teen Girls club. They had chosen the Like My Granny Baked Problem, creating a confectionery treat for soldiers in the field.

The Lookers, as the girls called their team, had a captive target audience. The Lookers were headquartered out of the Nez pod, which had become a secondary barracks for several of the Marines on board the Kon Tiki. Maria Nez became the driving force. Their collective brainstorming moved the problem beyond just a treat into an energy bar.

On one level, Misty wished she could participate in the Mind Meld. At a baser level, she reveled in the extra free time the competition provided her. Getting a chance to play with both of the little girls fanned a longing.

Now nine months old, Katy ran everywhere. Chasing her around the pod, Misty worked on her courage. She could do this. It wouldn't be like being alone.

Carrying Katy into the shower to bathe, she came to a decision. "Hobson," it was a soft whisper.

"Yes Misty."

"Did my sub scores say I would be a good mother?"

"Your scores showed the potential for you to be a nurturing parent."

"Bubbles," Katy began playing with the soap bubbles. Misty wasn't excited by the vocalization; any ball was 'bubbles' also.

"Did Bill ever say when I was gonna have a baby?"

"There is nothing on the schedule in regard to when you are to become fertile. Bill has just called a meeting of the family in the living room."

Grabbing a towel, she dried Katy and then herself. Misty took her giggling passenger into the living room.

"Now that everyone is here, we can start." Bill called to the family. "We will arrive in Wayward in a few days." A holographic image of the colony appeared. "Our new residence will be located here." A small, blue light blinked toward the lower right side of the colony. "We need to design our home."

"Mr. Jenkins?" Bill turned to find had who called his name. Eve had her hand raised. It was a reminder of their past relationship; how one called for the floor in the classroom.

He acknowledged her request. "Eve."

"Isn't this our home?" Eve sounded unsure. Her voice a bit shaky.

Bill nodded. "Yes, but the pod will transform and shape the interior as we see fit. Each of us could have our own room."

Kurt looked at Karl and Ben, and then he stood. "I don't want a separate room from my brothers, Papa."

"That's one of the things we need to decide."

"Okay, Papa."

"I've chosen a four story log cabin with a full basement and an attached man cave." Suddenly a translucent log cabin that looked more like a ski lodge morphed into view. "I've already decided the master suite will occupy these areas." Areas on four levels and the basement turned a solid gray. "These include nurseries on the second level."

"Papa," Edith interrupted. Ignoring her mother's quick glare, she continued. "Where are our rooms?"

"You kids will get the second and third levels. The fourth level is the family room."

The internal build of the house lasted another three hours. Bill had the women design the downstairs. Ray-ray took the man cave under his wing to design. Leslie had the family room given to her to plan. This included a partially covered patio.

Misty found herself working on integrating the nurseries into the master suite. Talking it out with Hobson took more than two hours. She went to Bill with the design.

"What do ya' think, Bill?" He looked at the setup. Misty had decided that the nursery should be accessible from both the bedroom and the circular stairs linking the floors in the master suite.

"This looks good."

Misty moved behind Bill. She draped her arms over his chest stroking his ribs through his shirt. "When can I have a baby?"

"I wanted to wait till we were at the colony." Bill turned his left shoulder softly into Misty. He then was able to pull her around into his lap. "I wanted us to practice making one a lot."

The little puppy look he gave Misty, caused her to kiss him. He took that opportunity to slide his hand down her body to seek her folds and search for her arousal. Reaching down, she exposed his cock. Not breaking the kiss, Misty twisted around, forcing Bill to tilt his head to maintain the kiss. Slipping one leg onto the floor, she hiked her other leg onto his thigh. Grasping his shoulder, she lifted herself up, breaking the kiss.

"Misty."

Misty made sure the head of Bill's cock rode in the cleft of her slit. She eased down slowly. The bulbous glans slowly forced its way, dividing her folds. The viscous lubricant invited Bill inside. He thrust his pelvis up to peek into Misty's cunt.

Misty lowered an inch or two, quickly trapping the head inside. She arched her back, lining herself up for the cock. The sensation of being spread by Bill gave way to him probing her depth. Once bottomed out, she grabbed him, kissing his upper chest and neck.

"I think I can wait a while, Bill, if I can do things like this to keep my mind occupied."

Bill mumbled an affirmative. He started thrusting up into Misty.

Unable to see any more, Louis backed away, his progress stopped by a body. Spinning around, he found Leslie staring at him. It reminded him of back in school when she was disappointed. She pointed to the master bedroom.

"Wait for me in the study."

The tone made him want to piss himself. He obeyed and started toward the study. Scantily clad or not, it wasn't Leslie the concubine. Ms. Howard was sending him to the office. Ten steps toward the door he started to shake; corporal punishment was a legal option.