Chapter 28

Entering the Macramé Hut, Bill was taken aback by the damage. Tables were overturned. Boxes lay strewn about the room. Tangled remains of Joyce and Martha's work looked like mounds on the floor. Two of the blacksmiths sat on the floor. The master smith, Alan Rey, stood ready.

Reading the blacksmith's stance put Bill on alert. Several months of forced self-defense trainings coupled with Leslie's reminders that he was not at her skill level yet warned Bill to not approach. Ray-ray stood near the man. Two EMTs pushed a levitating med tube toward the door. Bill held it open for them. Once they cleared the room, he turned back to the scene.

"She," the blacksmith pointed at Dr. Nguyen, "threatened my Martha." Alan's voice was deep and carried across the room.

With his hand pressed open-palm on Alan's chest Ray-ray whispered something unintelligible. Alan seemed to shrink a few inches. Bill realized Alan now stood flatfooted. The man's eyes still looked at Dr. Nguyen. An unknown Naval Commander stood between the doctor and the blacksmith.

"I have authorization from the Office of Evacuation and Colonial Operations." Smugness permeated Nguyen's voice. "At this time I am the de facto leader of this colony."

"Those orders are null and void." Colinda boomed into the room. "Wayward exists under a charter from the United Darjee Trade Consortium. Wayward citizens are subject to standard commitments to support the Confederacy. However, they do not fall under the jurisdiction of Office of Evacuation and Colonial Operations."

The commander spun to face the doctor. "You are under arrest for piracy, conspiracy to commit piracy, and other charges that will be formally presented."

"I think not!" Nguyen hopped with each word. Her hands quickly burst from her pockets. "Listen to me!" Something silver sparkled in between her fingers.

The commander and Alan moved. Alan pushed Ray-ray down toward the right. The commander charged the doctor. Four pops cut through room.

Bill could see red spray coming from the commander. Alan moved quicker toward the doctor, than Bill ever thought he could. Bill found himself rushing toward the collapsing naval man.

Alan pushed his friend Ray-ray away from the gun. He catapulted forward to disarm the woman. Liquid splashed his face. His nostrils smelled blood. As the commander fell, Alan could see the sneer on the woman's face. That disdain broke the reins that controlled Alan's sense of fair play.

Shrugging off a blow to his thigh, Alan raged. Giant arms flew with the speed of a bantamweight, but the force of sledgehammers. The first jab he sent to her neck. A hook tore into her left chest wall. The last blow was an uppercut that lifted his target a two feet off the ground.

Once she was no longer a threat, Alan dropped to his knees. A sharp pain caused him to wince. The teacher-guy, Bill, slid next to the commander, his hands pressed quickly onto a spurting wound. Ray-ray joined the teacher. The other cop rushed to the doctor. Suddenly his Martha and Tiffany were next to him. Martha gasped. Tiffany pressed both hands on his thigh. There was an instant of burning pain, and then darkness.

The goal of Anya Kampar's career advancement had always been to command. This was not how she had wanted it. Fortunately, quick action by members of the colony had made this only a temporary situation. For six more hours, Commander Mead would be in the colony infirmary as the med nanites repaired the damage.

One thing Commander Mead always stressed was to 'trust those who you command'. Taking that advice, Ensign Foster was thrust into the temporary role of second in command. Sergeant Fischer ended up sitting next to her at the hearing. His years of experience bolstered Kampar's confidence.

"Listen, and think everything through," Fischer's advice was proving itself valuable. "These people were blindsided just like we were. Their biggest issue with us is that we brought this woman here."

Dr. Nguyen's actions for the last few days flashed as three-dimensional holograms. The text of her orders did not match what she had shared with her co-conspirators. Nguyen kept referring to the orders coming from the female director of Evacuation and Colonial Operations Director. Miles Chandler would never be mistaken for a woman.

Unfortunately, Nguyen would be unable to testify. Any of the blows landed by Alan Rey were potentially lethal. Combined, the damage proved overwhelming. The doctor was dead before she hit the back wall.

"Whatever self-defense training the captain took we need to look into." Fischer's whispering voice wavered between awe and envy. "He kept that monster of a man at bay."

"I agree," Kampar replied.

Another fifteen minutes of images played in the air above them. "Is it just me? It seems that we are being painted as blameless."

Fischer had experience testifying in Earth courts, as he had often led search and seizure boarding parties. "I have the feeling that, if we were involved the evidence would have been presented."

The hearing then became postponed until midmorning of the next day. Everyone wanted to hear from Commander Mead.

Bert and Ted persuaded everyone over twelve in the household into helping straighten the Macramé Hut. Much to Joan's surprise, each of them was doing more work than supervising. At this rate, the majority of the mess would be picked up by dinner. Extra care was taken with the macram� pieces to avoid damaging them.

Baby Belinda slept peacefully in Joan's arms. Eve trusted her daughter with her. Helping clean this mess gave Eve a respite from Belinda. In caring for the little one, Joan felt complete.

She walked over to Eve, still carrying Belinda. "I'm gonna go in the office and use the chair as a rocker."

Eve kissed her daughter on the forehead. "See you in a bit." Then she smiled up at Joan before turning back to help untangling wall hangings.

Stepping into the office, Joan found a large table against the far wall with a large four-foot wide flat monitor. Several comfortable looking office chairs waited by the table. Joan sat down, and began rocking slowly.

The back and forth motion let her mind race. Her voice whispered. "Vulcan, can I ask you a few questions?"

"Yes Joan." Vulcan normally spoke in a booming voice. In the office, though, he spoke very softly. Belinda never moved. "I would be glad to do so."

"Thanks," Joan took a breath. "I'll be fourteen tomorrow. I know the Swarm have to be defeated. What if what if I just wanted to be a mother and have babies?" She had said it aloud. Relief washed through her causing her to relax.

Vulcan paused a moment. "What if your CAP Score shows you can do more?"

Had the AI's copied Ms. Jenkins brain onto their hard drives? "What if I can't do it? What if I freeze?"

"Being afraid or unsure of oneself is quite normal." Joan changed the speed of her rocking. "There are authorized Journals of volunteers from across Earth that detail their thoughts and experiences before and after testing."

"I have read a few already, but I have also read some of the journals of concubines who were and are basically sex slave, baby factories." The flush in her cheeks was accompanied by a need to shift her thong away from where it now rubbed. "Vulcan, can I confess something and you not tell?"

"I cannot promise complete secrecy." Joan's hope deflated a bit. Vulcan continued. "Certain information I must act upon in matters of security, safety, or health."

What Joan wanted to say didn't violate anything on that list. "I guess I can tell then." Pausing, she looked to verify that the door remained closed. "I've had a crush on Mr. Jenkins since sixth grade." Her hand slipped to her crotch. "Whenever I'm doing anything, it's him I picture."

"Have you considered joining his household as fellow sponsor?"

"If my skill set isn't suited for Wayward, I'll be posted elsewhere." Moisture clouded her eyes. Joan had to blink several times. A small sniff broke the silence.

"Projections from observations by Colinda, Hobson, and Dewey give you a fifty-three percent chance to score a 6.5 or better. I believe that you should speak with the concubine Leslie Jenkins. Even though she is a concubine, few in the colony would define her as a sex slave baby factory."

Joan still didn't have the answer. She never really expected one. Either way, tomorrow she would be an adult. "Vulcan," Joan had one last sniffle. "Would you please ask Leslie to come talk to me about my future?"

"Yes." Thirty seconds passed. "Leslie and Joyce will be here in five to eight minutes."

"Thank you."

"You are welcome."

Martha rubbed Alan's shoulders. The tension in her man's muscles gave a hint into how troubled he was. The damage tally was high: two men in med tubes, and a dead woman. Alan's two apprentices were both at home with her son, no, her family. Hells, even if they were both white, they and their wives, were now her children also.

"I killed that woman, Martha" Alan's voice was ragged. Martha hugged him. "I lost it and I was glad to do it."

"Alan Benjamin Rey," stating his whole name caused him to sit up and turn to look at her. "That woman threatened me and Tiffany." She slipped around to his front. Martha placed her hands on his cheeks, gently turning his face up to look into his eyes. "Our boys lay crumpled on the floor; that woman shot that other man, and then she shot you." Martha kissed him softly. "You did what you had to do."

"I should have known better." Alan's voice seemed to be hollow, a bit raspy.

"As far as I'm concerned, you did right." Martha hugged him to her breast.

Suddenly, small arms encircled them both. Martha looked up, seeing Tiffany and her man, Bill coming in the doorway. Most of their younger brood now surrounded Martha and Alan.

"Thanks for saving our mom," was accompanied by several "thanks for saving our Tiffany." The hugs were elongated and a couple of kids climbed onto the bench with Alan.

Martha could see a few tears on Alan's cheek. A little face turned up to Martha. "Are those happy tears like Misty and Salome had?" The little hand wiped away the tears on Alan's cheek.

"Yes baby," Martha answered, and then looking at Alan, "these are happy tears."

"Papa said," the little girl pointed at Alan. "He saved my mama from a bad person." Alan enveloped the girl in a hug.

Tiffany and Joyce were left to monitor and then extricate the blacksmith from under the mass hug attack. Bill wasn't at all bothered by the kids mobbing a man whom he witnessed shrug-off a gunshot, and then kill his attacker. The kids wanted to thank the man and he needed to help Joan enter her next phase.

He led Leslie and Joan across the infirmary to one of the lighter duty med tubes. Jodie Nez greeted them.

"This is a strange request, Bill." Jodie looked back and forth at the three of them.

"It is a compromise I asked for." Joan pulled her top off, handing it to Leslie. "I'm glad you allowed us to do this." Joan then pulled her shorts off, leaving her nude.

"I'll be honest," Jodie looked back at the entrance. "I passed the request up to the medical staff."

Bill scooped up Joan. "Jodie, we never meant to cause you any trouble." He placed the girl in his arms, into the tube opening.

"Once you close the tube, she'll be there until seven in the morning." Jodie finished a few adjustments on a panel, and then walked away.

Bill pulled Leslie next to him. "Joan, I don't necessarily agree with this." He looked between the two of them. "Either way, you will always have a home here."

"I need it to be this way." Joan looked up to the people who were part of her family. "I will either wake up a sponsor or have the body you designed for me." She flashed a wicked little smile. "I'll still get to have you as my first."

Bill reached up to grab the top of the tube. "That may be true. The question is, will you be riding me, or will I have you from behind like I did with Misty."

Joan began to giggle. Right before the lid closed, Bill caught part of Joan's comment to herself. "Yeah that's the posi ."

"Either way, Bill," Leslie tugged him back toward the mob of kids. "You'll need some vitamins and sleep."

Bill walked back over to where Alan sat. Clearing the space in front of him, free of kids, he reached out and pulled the man up to a standing position. "Your wife wants you home." He felt the power in the blacksmith's hug. "Okay kids, lead the way." The adults were pulled and pushed out the door.