Chapter 5

Danny was already waiting in the refectory when I arrived, but it looked like he'd only just got there as his cup of coffee was still full and steaming.

"Hi Danny, thanks for coming," I held my hand out.

Danny gripped it tightly. "That's okay son, glad to help. Get a coffee then we'll sit and talk."

I nodded and a few minutes later we were sat off to one side of the refectory, away from where the few people were coming in and out.

We chatted generally for a few minutes, just talking about life on board, before Danny asked a question that for a moment had me gasping.

"How did Roger lose his leg? Do you know?" asked Danny.

I looked at him. "Don't," I said, shaking my finger at him, "for god's sake, ask him about it. He may not be quite as angry now he's got it back again, but don't bet on it. A few months ago he might have ripped your heart out."

Danny looked shocked. "Why?"

"He doesn't talk about it much, so I can't now remember whether it was in Iraq or Afghanistan. He was a Lieutenant in the Royal Artillery, and they were stationed in one or the other sometime in the early two thousands. Oh three or oh four I think. He was in a small convoy of British Army vehicles, all of which had huge Union Jacks painted on the roof. You can probably imagine his surprise and anger when he was attacked by an A10 flown by a US pilot of your Air National Guard. Two of his men were killed, and three were wounded. Dad lost his leg yet was the least wounded. The US military refused to identify the pilot, and it was the British press that finally embarrassed the US military into admitting that maybe their procedures were inadequate. He's never forgiven the US military in general, though he has no animosity towards that pilot, just thinks he's a coward for not coming forward and admitting his mistake. Roger's always accepted that mistakes happen, especially in war. Errors happen, and the only way to reduce the chances of them happening again is to admit those mistakes and learn from them. His issue was that no one in the US was prepared to stand up and say that. Even just to say sorry. I don't know how, but they blamed the UK troops for the fault." I waved my hands in frustration. "There's pictures taken at the time. You can't miss the fucking flag. It was too fucking big to miss. How the fucking hell they can blame the ground troops fuck knows."

"Oh, shit. I'm sorry."

I interrupted him. "Don't be. It's not your fault, nor your problem, and never was. That man is probably long since retired, and it's the political and military hierarchy above him Dad really has issues with. Or had, anyway." I took a deep breath and calmed myself down.

"It's not really a good excuse," added Danny, "but the Air Force has never been happy doing air-to-mud operations. They hate it that the Navy and the Marine Corps have their own fixed wing aircraft. They think they should all belong to them, but are more interested in air to air combat ops anyway. Marine pilots on the other hand, as well as, though to a lesser extent, Navy pilots are very good at air to mud ops. If it had been a Marine pilot, it wouldn't have happened."

I just shrugged. "Well, whatever. It's old history now."

Danny nodded and we changed subject.

"I've not really had chance to do much sleep training on the military set up yet, and what I have done has confused me slightly. I could ask Roger, because he used to be in the Royal Artillery, but I'm guessing that the Confederacy would be different anyway. Can you give me some idea of how many people are in a platoon or troop, or whatever you call them."

Danny frowned. "Depending upon the various units, there's both troops and platoons, and squads and sections and fire teams, and other size units as well. What exactly is it you want?"

"I suppose just a general idea of how many men or women are in each unit, and who they're commanded by. Just the lower level of the command structure anyway. From captain or major downwards."

"Hmm. Well first thing to understand is that there is no such rank as captain any more. It is a title not a rank, and the only people allowed to use it are those in command of a star-ship. There's also the problem that at the moment we are still ironing out the command structure. What you need to understand is that it was the US Marine Corps who were the first to be directly approached by the Confederacy, by the Darjee or at least their AI's, so initially everything was based on that command structure. Unfortunately it wasn't very useful when we started getting troops from other branches of the military, and other militaries such as the Brits, the Canadians, even the Spanish, Germans, Ruskies and Chinks. At the moment there is no uniform command structure, and it's unclear how long that might remain so."

"Is it likely to change? Or likely to become standardised?"

"We hope so. Navy ranks are the most settled at the moment, but that's partly because the three top navy admirals are refusing to have anything to do with what the marines want, and instead have managed to stream-line the Navy ranks slightly, combining it with a little bit of Royal Navy. Substantially all they've done is something your Navy has been talking about for years, but never actually got around to doing, and that's dropping the rank of captain and turning it into a title. The Marines don't want to get rid of that rank, but it looks like they might have to. After that it's anyone's guess."

"So what does it look like now?"

Danny laughed. "A mess." I smiled and he continued. "The unit I belong to currently does have someone with a rank of captain, but he's likely to have to change, whether to lieutenant or to major I'm not certain."

"Do you currently have a major?"

"I think so, yeah."

"In that case I suspect that the captain may end up moving down to a lieutenant."

Danny grinned. "He's not gonna like that. An' I'm not sure we will either."

"Oh?"

Danny just shook his head. "Also, 'cause he's ex Bundeswehr: German army, and worked closely with both the Brits and the Danes, I think it was, or maybe the Poles?" Danny frowned in thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Whatever. But he's changed things in ways I'm not keen on. Maybe it's how the Bundeswehr worked, but it's not how we worked."

"Oh?" I asked again.

"I'll explain as I go through the basic structure."

"Oh, okay. So go on, give me some numbers."

"Well, you've gotta understand, it varies a hell of a lot." He sighed for a moment. "I'm a corporal. I'm in charge of a squad of ten men, split into two fire-teams of five, a Lance-Corporal and four privates. That's unusual in and of itself. A fire team in the US military is normally four men, not five, and I as corporal would have been in charge of one of them. Here I have two lance-corporals and eight privates, whereas I'm used to having one lance and six privates. I hate it. I don't think it works in combat, though I have to say that in the pickup role it seems to work." He shrugged. "In our platoon there's normally four sections, three infantry sections like mine, plus a heavy weapons section. A platoon is commanded by a lieutenant or second lieutenant, with a sergeant as his second in command, and a couple of other men." Danny shook his head, a hint of irritation on his face. "This is where our captain has made yet more changes I don't like. Our platoon sergeant was a staff sergeant E-6, which basically means between a sergeant E-5 and a gunnery sergeant E-7. Above that there is, or rather was, a master sergeant E-8 and a sergeant major E-9. The Captain's got rid of the staff sergeant, E-6, and the master sergeant E-8, in both cases he's reduced them by one step to E-5 and E-7. He wanted to get rid of the Gunnery Sergeant as well, but you'd be surprised just how much opposition he got to that. From all ranks. So he's officially kept it, he just doesn't have one, or in fact any of the other sergeant ranks. They're all just 'sergeants'."

"E-8? What do you mean E-8 and E-9 and the others?"

"Ohhh. That's just the pay grade basically. The 'E' means enlisted, the number then is the actual grade. E-1 is a private, E-2 is a PFC, up to E-9 which would be a sergeant major."

"Oh. I see. I think." I gave a wry smile. "Is there some reason for that?"

"Not really, no. But it does mean that a seaman or airman who is on the equivalent grade or rate would also be on the same pay scale."

"Ah. Okay. So I guess there's an equivalent grading system for officers?"

Danny shrugged. "I would imagine so. And because it was a NATO designation, a Brit. brigadier general and an American brigadier general will basically be the same, because the grades are common across most of the old NATO countries."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "Yeah?" Then I remembered something my father had told me a few years earlier. I grinned. "Not quite right," I laughed. "You've managed to pick the one rank where that's not necessarily true."

Danny looked surprised. "Oh?"

"We don't have brigadier generals in the British Army, they are brigadiers."

"Oh that's just names," Danny waved his hand dismissively.

"Ahh but," I said with a grin. "In your military, a brigadier is a one star general, yes?"

He nodded warily.

"That would make the colonel the most senior of the field ranks?"

"Yeah?"

"In the British army a brigadier is classed as a field officer rather than a general officer."

"It is?" He shook his head slightly. "He is?"

I nodded. "I remember Dad telling me about it a few years ago. He was telling me about some US brigadier general who didn't know there was no difference in actual rank between him and a British brigadier, telling off some new British second lieutenant who didn't know that the American officer should have been addressed as brigadier general not just brigadier." I grinned. "I can't remember the details now. Roger'll know them if you're interested."

"Not really, no," said Danny slowly.

"No, probably not." I grinned. "Anyway back to what we were talking about. How does a squad relate to a section?"

"Same thing. Just different names."

"Ahhhh," I said. "In that case, by my calculation that means forty-six people in a platoon?"

"Er," Danny thought for a moment. "Yeah, probably. Can vary. In most platoons a fire team will be only four people, a lance corporal and three. There's usually four squads, sometimes called sections, but there may also be three or five. Depends on the role of the company or battalion as a whole, and to a certain extent the officers in charge."

"Ah. Okay. What about your sergeants? I'm fascinated by this change your captain has made."

Danny just shook his head and rubbed his face with his hands.

"So how does anyone know the difference?" I asked, "if they're all just sergeant's."

"Huh," Danny grumped. "The people that need to know do. He's kept the rank insignia, and on the paperwork the various sergeants are E-5's, E-7's and E-9's, with the original rank insignia and responsibilities, they're just all referred to as sergeant."

He paused again. "Here's something else he's changed. I used to have privates, and PFC's, now I just have privates."

"Oh. You mentioned a PFC earlier. What's a PFC?"

"Private First Class. It's a time-in-service promotion from private, but our captain doesn't like all these extra ranks. He sees them as unnecessary, I see them as a way of rewarding the troops for doing dangerous work, or for doing specific tasks or having specific responsibilities." He waved his hand dismissively. "However. I'm calling them all PFC's. I know it irritates him, but because they're all the same rank, he leaves me alone."

"I'm pretty certain there never was such thing as a PFC in the British army."

Danny shrugged. "So anyway, that's how this platoon is nominally organised, however for pickups we're organised slightly different. The two fire teams are treated as a single squad, with one of the lance corporals left onboard the ship to coordinate this end, along with the platoon sergeant and the second luey. For a small pickup, the corporal is then in sole charge, with his remaining lance corporal as his deputy. For a larger pickup all three squads will go together, along with the sergeant in overall charge. In a combat situation we'll usually have a fourth squad with us as a heavy weapons squad, but for pickups we don't."

"What happens to them?"

"The heavy-weapons squad?"

I nodded.

"Depends. They may be detached to become just another pickup squad, maybe specialising in the more awkward pickups, or they may by subsumed into the existing squads to make up for injuries or other casualties. In our case, the heavy weapons squad got detached to another platoon that was going back to the front line."

"That's a bit unfair," I exclaimed. "Don't they get a chance to have a rest?"

Danny gave a snort of derision. "Rest!" He exclaimed. "Most of us would rather be on the front line than doing pickups. At least we know what the Dickheads are gonna do. They're pretty single-minded killing machines. Fuck knows what some ass is gonna do if we do a pick-up and we're not paying attention. This is only my third tour of extractions. I've not lost anyone yet, but there's been a couple of nasty injuries. I think we've been lucky this time simply 'cause you Brits don't carry guns. You seem to carry more knives than is usually found in the States, but half the time you don't know how to use them either." He rubbed his left forearm ruefully. "Unfortunately, sometimes you do know how to use them."

I smiled. "Okay. Is that organisation pretty average?"

"Pretty much so. The exact ranks of the person in charge of each fire team or squad may be different. Going upwards, there's generally three platoons in a company, plus an HQ section. A company is currently commanded by a captain or lieutenant, though that's looking like it's gonna hafta change. The sergeant in charge of the HQ section is the senior sergeant in the company, he or in our case she, should be a master sergeant, but instead she's just another sergeant, but with different rank insignia." Suddenly his eyes moved to look behind me and he smiled broadly.

I turned to see a stunningly beautiful black woman striding towards us.

The two touched fists briefly, the limit of their public show of affection. This was obviously his wife.

"News," she said, just as I leaned my chin on my hands and gazed at her.

"Ah," I said. "It all makes sense now."

"Sense? What does?" asked Danny.

"You and your missus. I think I'm in love." I turned my eyes to his and grinned.

He just shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"Idiot," muttered the new arrival, but with a half smile. Most women, in my admittedly limited experience, like to be thought of as beautiful.

"Joan, Lew, Lew, Joan," Danny introduced us. I stood and shook hands with her, as she stood, smiling at me.

"Lew, that's not your actual name is it," said Joan, asking the question as a statement.

I grinned and sat back down again. "Actually Llewelyn, but if you're not Welsh, you'll probably have some difficulty pronouncing it. I'll live with Lew."

She returned my grin and sat, before repeating my name, pronouncing it perfectly. "Ten minutes in the sleep pod," she laughed at my startled expression.

"Ah. Shoulda thought o' that meself," groaned Danny, leaning forwards and tapping his forehead lightly on the table.

I laughed with them. "Hey," I said, "I didn't think of it either."

"You said news?" asked Danny.

"The captain. His rank's just been changed."

"Up or down?"

"Neither. He's now a commander."

"But that's a navy rank," I burst out.

Joan looked at me and nodded. "Captain's gone. It's a title now, not a rank. So in the navy you could be a lieutenant, a lieutenant commander, or a commander, or even a," she paused and frowned for a moment before continuing, "commodore, and if you're in charge of the ship, you are a captain as well as your other rank."

"And if you were already a captain?" I asked.

She shrugged. "I'm not navy, and I'm not high enough to worry."

"But that's just changed the problem, not removed it. Before hand it was the rank of captain that was inconsistent, now it's the commander," I protested, "how are they going the square that one?"

"I have absolutely no idea," Joan told me, "but I believe the Navy are having to amend their lower rank structures anyway. As I understand it, someone has taken the point that these are space-craft, not space-ships, and that logically they are closer to aircraft than surface ships. Maybe they are going to use airforce rankings."

I laughed. "Royal Air Force ranks and insignia are based on the Royal Navy anyway. So even if they go airforce, if they went RAF they'd still end up with closer to Navy than Army or Marines."

Joan looked at me in surprise. "They are? Oh well, you live and learn."

I had a sudden thought. Looking at Danny, I indicated Joan. "Your master sergeant?"

Danny looked startled, then grinned, shaking his head. "Corporal, like me."

Joan also smiled. "What he won't tell you," she chuckled, "is that I was his corporal for a while, until he got a promotion. He was ribbed a bit, weren't you poppet."

Danny ground his teeth. "Don't call me 'poppet'," he grunted.

Joan and I both smiled at his irritation.

"Anything else?" asked Danny stiffly.

"There's strong talk the second luey rank looks like it might be changed to ensign."

"Uh huh," nodded Danny. "That was signalled a couple of months ago, and sort of expected."

Joan nodded and briefly glanced sideways at me.

"Jimmy's got CAP'ed. He's now a sponsor."

Danny gaped for a moment and then grinned. "Oh that's wonderful. And Janie?"

Joan shook her head. "I think you're the only one who didn't know she never would get CAP'ed up."

"Ah," Danny frowned, obviously disappointed.

"On the other hand," said Joan with a slight smile, "it would appear that by now both Janie and Susie are ten weeks pregnant, and Ali is four weeks pregnant." She paused for a moment. "Ah, add three weeks to that, this note is three weeks old."

"Jimmy's got em all pregnant?"

"Accordin' to the note, two are yours. He did get my sister Ali pregnant though. She will be seven weeks gone now."

Danny gave a short laugh, and then his eyes went wide with realisation, quickly followed by a gasp, his smile fading somewhat.

"Shit. I got ma own daughter pregnant."

"And your sister," laughed Joan.

"What's Jimmy gonna do now?"

"He's already shipped out. Along with Susie's Alex who's also now turned fourteen, and got a 6.6 CAP first time. Jimmy joined the marines like his mom and pop. I'm happy for him, but I'd just got permission from the captain, well, commander now of course, to take time out to get pregnant again, and I'd wanted Jimmy to be the father." She shrugged.

Danny laughed again. I could see he was pleased for his son, but I was now just starting to get confused with all the names being bandied around.

Joan grinned and looked at the PAD she was holding. "Turns out that the first thing Alex did when he turned 14 was to boff Susie, his own mom, then go and get CAP tested, and then came back and had a celebration by boffing her all over again. Susie was highly amused."

"And highly aroused," Danny said drily, "knowing my sister. I guess he also did Janie and Ali?"

"I would think so, but it doesn't say that here. Susie and Ali would have made sure he didn't get uppity. Not that I think he would, he's a good boy."

"Alex?" I asked, by now thoroughly confused.

"My nephew," answered Danny. "My sister's son."

"Oh." I nodded.

Danny smiled. "Still four more under-fourteens to go, and now three more on their way."

Joan just smiled. She lifted her PDA to indicate what she was referring to as she added, "the letter's from Suzie, and she also says that Mel is almost certainly not going to get a good CAP, but that Jack should. Katie and Billy are still too young to worry about yet."

"How did you find all this out?" I asked. "Surely you can't get phone calls or emails and the like between planets?"

Joan laughed and shook her head. "The Catch-22's just got into orbit for a collection. They brought the news." She waved the PDA.

Almost without thinking, I asked, "do you want another bloke to replace one of the two just gone?"

They both looked at me and I flushed slightly. "Sorry," I said, "I shouldn't have said anything."

"Who were you talking about? Your father or your brother?" asked Danny. Joan just slowly shook her head, a troubled look on her face.

"I was actually thinking of Huw. He wants to get upcapped and become a marine, for a moment I thought being in a family of marines might help him, but it was a silly suggestion really."

"Why silly?" asked Joan, a frown on her beautiful face.

"Well," I floundered a bit. "At the moment he's low man on the totem pole in my pod, he has no specific function, and I'm mis-balanced," I waved one arm in frustration, "I've got the wrong mix of males and females. He's okay at the moment but he's eventually going to get frustrated because he's at the bottom of the pile, and that could eventually lead to issues. It's too soon for that to happen just yet though, we haven't really settled in here yet, so maybe he'll just settle down and work towards getting up capped."

"Do you think he could do it?"

I shook my head. "I really don't know. He's got a 5.5 now I think. If I remember correctly."

Mmm," said Danny. "Jimmy was 5.7 on his first," Danny looked at his wife. "Does it say what he got on his second attempt?"

"6.5".

"Hmm," Danny muttered again. "Only just made it."

I frowned. "In that case I think it's even more important I get him out of the pod if he's unlikely to improve enough to become a sponsor in his own right."

"To be honest that is probably too low to have much chance," said Joan thoughtfully, "but it's not impossible. Let me think about it."

I shook my head. "Don't worry about it."

Joan grinned at me. "Oh I'm not gonna worry, but I think maybe havin' a honky at home could be fun."

"Honky?" I asked, baffled.

"White man," said Danny, a resigned look on his face.

"Anyway," said Joan, still grinning, "you could always ask the AI. It'll usually give good advice, and if nothing else, you'll get a probability."

"Yeah. Never thought of that." I looked up. "AI?"

"Given the current situation, the likelihood of Huw Carter becoming a sponsor is about 0.2."

"0.2?" I exclaimed, "Shit. He's no chance."

"No," said Joan smiling slightly. "The AI is using the mathematical measure of probability which starts from 0 as meaning impossible, and goes to 1 as meaning certain. 0.2 is a 1 in 5, or 20% chance."

"Oh. Okay. AI? Is that correct?"

"It is."

I looked back at Joan. "That's an odd way of doing it isn't it? I thought it would be in percentages or something."

Joan smiled slightly. "Get a math tutorial as soon as possible. Make sure it includes statistics and probabilities. I did when I was advised to, and it's been a godsend ever since."

I nodded. "Okay. Thanks. I will. And I'll get the three who are aiming to become sponsors to do one as well."

Danny just nodded his agreement.

We sat and chatted for a few more minutes before I got around to asking the main question I really wanted an answer to.

"Look," I said slowly. "You know I have incestuous concubines, and I know you and a few others have as well. It's not something I ever wanted or expected, and I don't know how it'll work out longer term. Do you have any general advice?"

Danny and Joan looked at each other. Danny frowned slightly when Joan just shrugged her shoulders. "Not really," he said slowly. "If I'd had the choice at the time, I'd have probably never taken the people I did. But back then things worked a bit different."

"Oh? What do you mean by 'back then'? How long have you been out here?"

"We were picked up about two years ago now," said Joan, frowning in thought. "Some months before The President announced the swarm on television. Before then it was only military or recent ex-military who were collected. I was approaching twelve years in service, and had decided to retire while I was still young. Before I had chance to tell anyone, the whole platoon had to do a CAP test. Everybody who passed, and that was most of us, was ordered to volunteer for a special duty. At the time it was all top secret hush hush, so when we were told about concubines, we couldn't just go out and grab anyone, they had to be taken from on base."

Danny took over the tale. "A lot of other people on base had to take it as well, and it just happened that both our sisters'" he nodded at Joan, "worked on base. My sister is very bright, despite getting only a four point somink CAP. We'd all been hearin' rumors, and she put 'em together before I did and roughly worked out what was happening. She actually came to me and asked if I would take her." He gave a great sigh and scratched his head. "Bit surprised at first, shocked, then realised she maybe din't know what she was askin', that she would become my sex slave. When I told her, it didn't take her long to decide she would have no problems with it.

"Turned out Joan had a marginally better CAP score than me," he grinned at her, "so she was going in her own right, and decided to take her sister. We were both short on concubines, but so were a lot of people going. In some cases, including ours, our under-age children became our concubines later. Jimmy was only just thirteen, so he became Joan's concubine a year later. Janie's only been my concubine ten months," he paused, "actually, no, about eight months now, I think. In a year or so's time Susie's daughter, my niece, will also probably become my concubine. Her son, my nephew would have been either mine or Joan's concubine if he hadn't got a decent CAP. But he has, so he's left. In our case it sorta just happened. The same is true of at least a few others. In other cases I know people deliberately went looking to try and get their families out; in many cases the only way of doing that was to go incest. Some could and kept their own families. Some couldn't and over time swapped between each other."

Joan took over again. "In the slightly more 'n two years since we left, we've had a few newcomers to the company to replace injuries and so forth, some of whom have brought family; and we've also had a few from the original group deliberately go looking to collect their own family. And we've had a few who, like us, have grown into it."

"Go looking?"

Joan frowned. "Go looking." She refused to expand on it, but I guessed roughly what she meant. I also guessed she didn't approve of actually going looking to collect family like that.

"Okay," I nodded. "In a way a bit like me. It just sorta happened, and had I known what was gonna happen, had I been able to plan it, I probably wouldn't have brought my family." I paused, and after a few moments shrugged. "Then again, maybe I would. I don't know."

"I wouldn't worry about it," said Joan. "It generally seems to work out in the end."

"What do the various concubines think of it?"

Danny laughed. "My sister got into the swing of things very easily, she always was a han'some broad so it was easy for me as well. Jimmy probably less so, but I guess he got the hang of boffing his mom. I know once she realised what was going to happen Janie began to quite look forward to it, an' I know Melinda wants to be my concubine, that's my niece. Jack, Joan's nephew is quite looking forward to it, but really wants to become the pilot of a space-craft. It'll be another six years before we need to worry about the two younger ones." He shrugged. "Eventually I think they all ought to be swapped to get a better, bigger, genetic mix."

"What about other people's incestuous concubines?"

"Dunno," shrugged Joan. "Don't see them."

I frowned. "Don't see them? Aren't they on board?"

Danny laughed again. "Fuck no. Do you realise how little space there is on this ship? None of the marines on board have any concubines with them, unless they've collected them this trip. Some of the ship's crew have a concubine on board, but most don't. There's not really enough room."

"Ah," I exclaimed. "Do you know, I hadn't really thought about it, but it does make a lot of sense. I guess they're all on whatever planet you, or your company, now calls home?"

Joan nodded. "Uh huh."

"Can I ask then, I know you've explained how, but are you happy with the situation?"

Joan smiled slightly and nodded. Danny took a bit longer, but then nodded his agreement as well. "Yeah. I am. I don't think I'd now change it."

"What about others in the platoon?"

Joan sighed. "To be honest I don't really know. Our new families, our concubines, are not really topics of discussion very often. I know the platoon sergeant has her son, and has already had a child by him. One of the lance corporals has her father and reckons he's the best lover she's ever had. I'm not sure I know anyone else."

"Billie, one of my fire-team leaders?" Danny said softly.

"Oh yeah. Another lance corporal has her brother and his daughter. I know she enjoys having sex with her brother, but she's going to get rid of her niece, I think, because she thinks he enjoys having sex with his daughter a little too much."

"I know," added Danny, "that our second luey doesn't have any incestuous concubines. I can tell you all ten people in my squad. The two lance-corporals. Billie we've just told you about, Mack has both his daughters. Of the eight PFC's, one has his mother and his daughter and I think both are pregnant. Then there's two youngish lads who both have their own mothers, and have swapped their sisters with each other. None of the other five have incestuous concubines, though I happen to know that one guy is trying to get his daughter off another man from third platoon."

"About half the platoon as a whole has incestuous concubines, or is expecting to get them shortly," added Joan, "though that's very high compared to the rest of the company."

"Wow," I said. "And everybody's happy with the arrangements?"

Joan shrugged. "I suppose we could take you to talk to a few of them, but I'm not sure that's necessarily a good idea."

I thought about it for a moment, "Yeah. If that's possible, that would be nice. To be honest I just want to get a handle on how to, well, handle the situation."

Two hours later I wandered slowly back to my pod, stunned at what I had found out. I had spoken to about twenty people, most on their own, a few in small groups. I hadn't spoken to the platoon sergeant, though I did now know she was going to get rid of her son as a concubine, though not for a little while yet, and not until she'd had at least one more child by him. I had found out that only one officer in the entire company had incestuous concubines. The lieutenant in charge of the HQ platoon had three of his five daughters, all three of whom were currently pregnant, in two cases not for the first time. And he was half expecting to get his two younger daughters within the next couple of years.

I was as much amazed at the sheer variety of combinations and permutations. One guy had had his own daughter for about seven months now, but only because if he'd given her up to the pool when she came of age, she would almost certainly have gone to someone who was known to be a bit abusive, particularly to younger girls. He hadn't been happy about the idea originally, but was now sold on it. What had surprised him most though, was that his daughter had been quite enthusiastic about the idea: now she was his favourite concubine.

I'd found out that no one who had had incestuous concubines was unhappy with that fact, but a few had swapped anyway because they were worried about any possible genetic problems. One guy's story was pretty typical of this. He told me he had started with all three of his daughters as his concubines, keeping them for nearly three months before swapping them out. He had explained to me that he'd had no regrets taking them in the first place, and all had enjoyed the lovemaking, but that he also had no regrets about swapping them out either. It wasn't the sex he had been uncomfortable with, but the fact that he was expected to get them pregnant. Despite what the AI's had told him, he was still worried about genetic defects. He missed them, he told me, but because they were his daughters, not because of the sex.

A couple of other stories stood out. Two guys who were very close friends had each kept their own mother, but had swapped sisters with each other. Even though they regularly got together for six way orgies, they weren't planning on swapping back, but both had bequeathed their concubines to each other. Both men told me they'd already got their own mothers pregnant, as well as the other guy's sister, and soon they would get their own sister, and probably the other's mother pregnant. Apparently all six people approved of this plan. After I'd spoken to them, they had decided they liked the idea of me sharing a pod with my sister after she 'graduated'. I could see them both thinking, and I wondered whether they were now considering sharing a home as they got together so often.

Two women had their brothers: in one case it was chance; in the other it was by design. Both were very happy with their choices. Another woman had her father, and wouldn't ever get rid of him. She told me softly, "he is the best lover I've ever had, and I've had a few."

I arrived back at the pod not long before midnight. Only Roger was in the main living room.

"Where's everyone?"

"In bed somewhere. I think you'll find Stacy in your bed; possibly with one of your sisters, but I'm not sure which one."

"Cheers. How come you're still up?"

Roger smiled. "Just checking to make sure you were okay. You went to see Danny didn't you?"

I nodded, frowning. "How did you work that out? I don't think I told anybody."

"You didn't, but given that we don't know very many people yet, and you needed military info, it seemed a safe bet. Can I ask what you talked about? Some more generic stuff I may still be able to help you with."

I told him a little of what we had talked about, and he expressed a bit of surprise at the number of people in a fire-team. "Odd. A fire-team is normally four people, including the corporal or lance-corporal in charge. Strictly it's a section with a corporal in charge, a lance as his 2IC and eight privates. They simply split into two usually identically armed fire teams of four during a firefight."

"Apparently it was the captain in charge of the company that wanted it that way."

Roger shrugged. "Oh well. Bit odd though."

When I told him about the change of rank names as well, in particular the captain to commander, he shook his head in resignation. "Who's daft idea was that?"

I shook my head and tried to explain that apparently it was designed to standardise the ranks amongst all the different services.

"Well they got it wrong then didn't they. Commander should be the title, not captain. One talks about the Commanding Officer, or Officer Commanding, Even the very word suggests the one in command, the one giving commands." He shook his head. "Buffoons," he muttered.

"Well don't say it outside this room," I told him curtly. He looked at me for a moment then nodded, smiling slightly. "Don't worry, I wasn't planning on doing so. Just letting off a bit of steam. In any case, if you think about it, they've now got a different problem. A naval captain was roughly the same as an army colonel. A naval commander the same as an army lieutenant-colonel. In the army it's a lieutenant-colonel who's in command of a battalion, not a colonel, and it's a commander who would normally be in command of the larger naval ships, not a captain. So now you have a naval commander who's equivalent to an army lieutenant colonel, an army commander who's equivalent to a naval lieutenant and an army lieutenant equivalent to a naval sub-lieutenant. And you think this has made it easier?" He burst out laughing. "I can see more confusion than ever. Don't tell me: it had to have been an American who came up with this."

I shrugged, smiling slightly. "No idea. For all I know it was imposed on us by the Confederacy, though somehow I doubt it. In any case, it's not fully set yet, so may still change."

He just shook his head.

Dad showed more discomfort when I touched on the main reason I had gone to see Danny, so I left it and bid him nos da.

"Nos da," he replied. Good night.

Stacy and Siân were in my bed when I got there, and if I was 'home' I was never without at least two women in my bed every night for a very long time afterwards. When I mounted my sister the following morning, it really did feel like home.