Chapter 4 -- The Meeting

The attractive young concubine entered the anteroom. "The Colonel will see you now." She stood aside so they could enter the Colonel's board-room.

Ensign William Barker looked at Sergeant Ken Kowalski, Private Bob Redburn and young Samantha Redburn. Nodding, he entered first.

The four found themselves entering a meeting room occupied by Colonel Michael Deschenes, Lieutenant Colonel Chaz Desrocher, Sergeant-Major Butch Blondell, and from the kilopod transport CSS Grey Goose, still in orbit discharging pods, the ship's Civil Service Officer, Decurion Heintz Shultz. All the Marines but Colonel Deschenes were wearing their Daily uniforms of green kepi, smock, pants and brown boots. The Colonel was wearing his full-dress uniform with Prussian collar and Sam Browne belt. Samantha had considered long and hard before getting dressed, and had chosen for the occasion her team's white with maroon stripes "home" jersey and blue jeans. She hadn't had a chance to get the AI to make any clothing for her, and it was either that, the maroon with white stripes "away" jersey or the plain maroon "practise" jersey. The game jerseys were more formal than the practise jersey, and as she would be in front of the home crowd, she figured, it would be more fitting she wear the home jersey.

"All right, Ensign," Michael addressed the young officer gravely. "You called this meeting."

William gulped, filled with nervous tension. "Yes, Sir. I became aware that this colony has no Civil Service officers assigned. I believe that until we do, we need to make some sort of alternate arrangements to cover ourselves." He paused to collect his thoughts. "We are here, after all to do more than just battle the Sa'arm, we're also supposed to raise families so that the human race carries on. And that's the job of the Civil Service: seeing to it that the families are OK so the Marines and Navy don't have to worry about things back home when we're out battling the dickheads. With no Civil Service officer posted here permanently, we need something in an alternative."

Decurion Shultz took up the cudgel. "We in the Civil Service are incredibly short-handed. Every transport should have one of us, as should every colony -- in fact, for larger colonies we need more than one. We're nowhere near that level, many of the kilopod transports don't have a single officer, another small group switch between the Auroras in Earth orbit to do initial processing, and yours is not the only colony that doesn't have a soul in that position. If we can come up with an alternative, we'll push it to the colonies that have a need for CS officers."

"The sergeants' concubines."

Everyone blinked at the Ensign's bald assertion. "Excuse me?" responded the Decurion.

"The sergeants' concubines." William took a breath in and began, "At first, I thought of the officers' concubines, but remembered something drilled into me in my training." He looked at the Colonel and gave a wry grin. "Sir, who really runs a unit, any unit? The non-coms, that's who. They've got the experience, the contacts and the confidence. So, whose concubines are best placed to make use of this resource? The non-coms' concubines."

"Not alone, they aren't," protested Lieutenant Colonel Desrocher. "They have no authority to do anything."

"True," admitted the Decurion. "They would have far less authority than I would, and I'd have not much at all."

Samantha leaned over and whispered to the Decurion. "So how much authority would I have, as a CS officer?"

Shultz caught the first person singular reference, and decided to confirm his suspicions. "Tell me, my dear, why exactly are you here? Interested in becoming a Civil Service officer?"

Samantha blushed as her father came to her rescue. "Samantha has expressed an interest in joining the Civil Service. She's heard from all the experienced officers and men on board Grey Goose how important they are, and apparently you made an impression on her. The AI assures us she's probably going to get a CAP score of over 6.5 when she turns fourteen in another eight months."

"So you want to join the Civil Service, young lady?" Shultz was practically rubbing his hands with glee.

"Yes, sir," she admitted cautiously.

"Well, we might not have a solution that will work on every colony, but we've got one that might work here." A note of satisfaction rang through the Decurion's speech. "We have a cadet program, where those who are at least 12 years old can be put into a training regimen that allows them to continue their high school education at an accelerated rate while also learning the skills necessary to be a member of one of the uniformed branches of the Confederacy. By the time they've graduated high school they've also got the equivalent of officer training and can be granted a full commission immediately. We haven't had any CS cadets to my knowledge yet on any colony world or vessel anywhere, but the position exists on a theoretical level. AI, would young Miss Redburn have the necessary personality marks to make a CS officer?"

"A preliminary analysis of Miss Samantha Redburn indicates she will have a CAP score of six point eight to seven point two, with a possibility of a higher score if she enters the cadet program. She will probably have personality scores that go well with being a Civil Service officer."

"Who would do this training? You're out of here when Grey Goose heads back to Earthat tomorrow evening."

"We have an additional day. The colony founders were able to create a pod production facility here, so we'll load up before we head back, rather than head to another colony for more pods. I'll be able to sit with young Miss Redburn before I go and get her set up with training materials -- such as they are, we really don't have a course for CS officers other than reports of what worked elsewhere -- and give her the basic CS officer enlistment lecture."

The Sergeant-Major spoke up for the first time. "But as a cadet, what authority would she have?"

"Pretty well the same as any full-fledged CS officer: practically none. She'll have to use force of personality and your own willingness to co-operate to get anything done."

"And if she has to take over any concubine?" asked a sceptical Sergeant-Major Blondell.

"Even as a cadet, she'll be a CS officer with all the responsibilities and privileges appertaining thereto," Shultz responded with a reasonable tone to his voice. "That includes the ability to take on the unassigned concubines, and the responsibility for both keeping those unassigned concubines pregnant and trying to find a permanent home for them."

"Pregnant?" Samantha raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

"Pregnant?" Bob was likewise somewhat nonplussed.

"Pregnant," Shultz affirmed flatly. "In most colonies, that means the CS officer is also the brothel keeper -- the unattached female concubine is tasked with spending at least part of her time playing the part of prostitute or camp follower, having sex with any and all sponsors who wish to enjoy her services."

Bob made a strangling noise.

"She isn't one of the business girls herself, you understand. She's just making sure that they get sexed regularly and are unhurt in the process. Some of our uniformed services can get kind of rough, especially when they're drunk." Shultz gave the teen a sympathetic eye. "Your daughter would be the youngest madam in the galaxy."

Samantha might have been young and inexperienced, but she knew what a brothel was, and what a madam did. She looked back at her father nervously. "We shouldn't tell Mom about this right away," she suggested.

"She'll find out about it as soon as she starts talking to the other concubines, but I think your secret will be safe for about 24 hours," Bob assured her.

Her face fell. "Great, thanks," she said unenthusiastically. "We'll have to tell Mom before she finds out from someone else. Otherwise I could imagine her having a stroke." She shrugged at the Colonel. "She knows intellectually that she's not able to countermand her sponsor's orders, but that doesn't mean she can't get emotionally distraught about them."

"If Miss Redburn and I could have a few minutes alone in your office, Colonel, I'll brief her into what she's offered to let herself in for. If she's still interested, you'll have your CS officer." Decurion Shultz indicated the alcove beside the meeting room, screened by a retractable frosted glass wall. The Colonel nodded and the wall retracted into a pocket to reveal a desk with two visitors' chairs, and another frosted glass wall.

As the Decurion and the young teen put their heads together, Bob assured Sergeant Kowalski, "I'd rather she didn't go in for CS officer, but I'm not going to say anything against it. I know we need one."

"I'm impressed by her," admitted Kowalski. "She's standing up to having all these officers around her without going into her shell."

"Even if she does accept the position, even if she were a Decurion in her 20's, she'd still need all the help we can give her. She'll be all by herself after all, especially as she has no concubines to help her," Colonel Deschenes observed. "Ensign Barker, we'll take your suggestion under advisement. I suggest that after Decurion Shultz and Miss Redburn get back, you get back to your training. We'll decide by sixteen hundred and pass the word before training ends."

"Aye, aye, Sir."

Escorted by her father and Sergeant Kowalski, Samantha paused at the door to the family pod. Inside her mother and aunt, alerted by the AI to her arrival, gathered at the door.

The pod door opened, and the happy young lady proudly marched in.

"My goodness," Monica exclaimed as she and Alice goggled at the sight before them. "You're ... you're an officer?"

"Monica, Alice, meet the Confederacy's newest Civil Service officer, Optio Samantha Redburn!" Bob announced proudly. "Not even fourteen yet, and she already outranks her old man."

Samantha preened and showed off her outfit with a twirl. Instead of the hockey jersey, blue jeans and scruffy old running shoes she had worn to the meeting, Samantha now wore the grey dress uniform of a Civil Service officer with highly polished black boots and Sam Browne belt. Her Prussian collar bore collar badges indicating she had achieved the empyrean heights of an optio -- the Civil Service equivalent of an officer cadet, the first and so far only one in the entire Diaspora. When she took her CAP score on her 14th birthday, assuming that she'd pass as the AI seemed convinced would happen, she'd be automatically promoted to the rank of signifer, the equivalent to ensign, a position currently occupied by no Civil Service officer anywhere in the Confederacy. If she passed high school, she'd be a sub-decurion.

"Now I need to get changed into daily dress," Samantha explained as she disentangled herself from her mother's hug. "I've got work to do, and quickly."

"What work?" Alice wanted to know.

Samantha reddened. "First, school. I'm right now the principal, all of the teachers, the truant officer, the first student, everyone but the cleaning staff."

Her mother shot her a questioning look.

"The cleaning staff are nanites," Samantha explained. "And then once I get that organized, I have to get the ah, er, brothel ready."

"Brothel?" Monica asked, too astonished to be outraged. Samantha guessed that the outrage would come later.

"Yes," Samantha confirmed, getting a daily uniform out of the replicator and removing her black Sam Browne belt and grey wedge cap. "That's how they keep unassigned concubines pregnant, and how they have transient marines blow off steam." She shrugged out of her dress jacket and pants, and got into the grey shirt, jacket, pants and kepi of her new and now daily dress.

"Look," Bob advised, "she'll be gone for the afternoon. We'll be back together for supper. Try to stay out of trouble while we're gone. We'll celebrate all three pieces of good news over a nice formal dinner tonight."

"Three?" All the ladies turned to him.

"Yes." He looked pointedly at the bellies of his two concubines. "The AI just confirmed it. I'm going to be a daddy again. Twice over."

As Sergeant Kowalski congratulated him and his concubines, a cheering Samantha hugged her mother and aunt all over again.