Chapter 17 – One Day in Bangkok
The past week had been a busy one for Optio Samantha Redburn. Two of the sponsors from last weekend's draft had managed to pick up so many defaults for their violent behaviour that at their courts-martial they were ordered to get an immediate CAP rescoring. The results on both of them came back with psychotic levels, and the men had to be recycled – she'd had to sign off on the death of both men and take in their four traumatized concubines, all females. She'd so far killed more Chosen Frozen than the Sa'arm, a record she was not proud of. Another recruit had died at the hands of Sergeant-Major Blondell: he'd had a psychotic break and foolishly tried to kill the Amazonian black-belt. That meant she also now had a fifth female concubine, who was even more traumatized than the others as she'd seen him kill her sister-concubine. Samantha had recommended that the Colonel have some officer drag Butch over to the Officers' Mess and get her dead drunk. Greg, Butch's male concubine, came over and picked her up after she had consumed the requisite amount of alcohol. At least all of these newly unassigned concubines were solo – none had a dependant to worry about, being three more cases of low-scoring sponsors thinking with their little head instead of their big head when picked up.
Samantha was rapidly learning about life and her fellow human beings. Some people, she had discovered, were just not very nice.
And in the week following the big party at the Beauty Saloon to welcome in the new Filles du Roi, a number of the ladies, all over 17, had turned up at the Medical Inspection Room with worries about late menses and food cravings. So far, she reflected as she checked herself out in the mirror of her room on the second floor of the family's pod, only Vickie was not evincing signs of pregnancy....
“Samantha, Vickie just ordered a plate of chicken vindaloo curry for breakfast.”
“Mom? She ordered what?”
“Chicken vindaloo curry,” Monica confirmed.
“But she's a vegetarian... uh-oh. AI, is Vickie pregnant, by any chance?”
“Confirmed,” rang the dulcet tones of the pod AI. “Victoria Arbuthnot is one week pregnant.”
Samantha and Monica looked at each other. “Well,” Samantha remarked, “that marks the last of the Fille du Roi over 17. They've all now got a bun in the oven. I'm supposed to keep unassigned concubines pregnant – looks like I've been doing my job well.”
It was another big Brigade-sized parade, with all 3,000 men and women present on the large parade square in the heart of the dome. Optio Redburn stood at ease at the left-hand side of the parade square in her grey dress uniform, her matte-white pace stick tucked under her left arm, beside a representative contingent of Fleet Auxiliary in dark blue full-dress.
As another draft of men was expected – the fourth of five that were needed to bring the Brigade up to size – promotions were required for the new squads and platoons.
As she stood watching the men and women being promoted, many of whom she knew personally, one name seemed to be shouted louder than the rest.
“Redburn, Robert – Sergeant, and transferred to the 1204rd Armoured.”
She watched proudly as her father marched forward to accept his promotion. At 13, she still outranked him, a fact which made her smirk.
“Is that a nice way to thank the gunner who saved your life?” demanded Lieutenant-Colonel Stan Waterman jokingly. “Sending your father to pester her all day long?”
“Oh, I've already thanked her. She says I have a very talented tongue, eh.” Samantha wagged her eyebrows. Before anything more could be said, the Colonel arrived in the boardroom, putting his pace stick down beside his spot on the table.
“If I could have your attention please, we now need to review our plans for the next draft's arrival.”
As everyone settled into their chairs, Lieutenant Carruthers ventured onto extremely thin ice. “As long as they haven't any more surprises for us.”
“I hear Whitefeather's thinking of sending Inuit sled dogs. He says they're excellent protectors of their masters, and a wonderful alert system. Personally, I'm afraid that someday the twit will try. However, not on this load.”
The image of a kilopod carrier showed in front of them, hovering over the table.
“CSS City of Bangkok, on her maiden voyage. She has for us 1,024 raw recruits, 2,112 concubines and 1,829 dependants. Arrival time tomorrow at 11:42 hours local. I'm also told that a special treat is on board. One of those concubines goes by the stage name of Shelly Saturn.”
“The singer?” asked a startled Waterman.
“The very same. Apparently Tribune Whitefeather is trying to make nicey-nice after that incident with the pets.”
Samantha didn't have the heart to tell the Colonel just how big a hit those pets were proving to be. She had so far fostered about half of them out, with each family having to breed them with whoever Vickie told them to when she told them to do so, and with all the offspring to be returned to the Pet Pods when weaned for further fostering to other families. In another few months, they'd have pets to trade with passing ships.
“Any other momentous news to pass out?” Lieutenant Carruthers asked.
“Yes. It will be officially announced to the crews later today, but you need to know now. Those ships we've had seconded to us are now part of this system's official fleet. The families of the crews on board the Pendennis Castle, the Rayleigh Castle and the Scarborough Castle will be transferred to Thule.” He grinned, but there was little mirth in it. “I'm not certain how they'll feel – they're on a relatively warm planet right now, I understand. Anyway, at 44 crew per ship that's 132 families right there, plus we're getting two Patrician class corvettes, which means another 28 crew per ship or 56 families. They're transferring them all over on two Auroras along with an admiral and three of his staff. So far we haven't a clue when they're arriving, but that means that Scott Base needs to be up and running even faster than we originally thought.”
Lieutenant Carruthers looked sick at the thought.
Cassie and her father, Commander Samuel Walker, were returning from the Medical Inspection Room, where she had just had her first CAP scoring session. She was a little glum, but only a little: she'd been anticipating scoring less than 6.5 for the last four months running. Still, although better than half of humanity, only getting a 5.4 hurt.
Sharing their table at the Beauty Saloon was Samantha Redburn. As she was both Cassie's friend and the ranking Civil Service officer, both Walkers wanted her advice.
“OK, you want to know what your options are?”
They nodded.
“Well, Commander, you can keep her as your concubine. It doesn't affect your head count, and any of her offspring become yours. However, you are responsible from this day onward for keeping her in kids.”
The Commander glumly nodded. “I'm just.... Look, I know it's legal out here, but I'm not into doing my daughter. It's just not my thing.”
“Incest,” Samantha nodded. “One of the biggest issues between concubine and sponsor, or between concubines. But there is an alternative. And I have an ulterior motive: I want to keep my concubine/sponsor ratio up. The more concubines per sponsor, the more humans we can have here on Thule, off Earth.”
“This alternative you mentioned?” led Cassie, trying to find some third alternative to (1) leaving Daddy and (2) doing Daddy.
Samantha was a little hesitant, as often this particular ship ran aground and dismasted on the “My daughter a whore?” shoals. “Find her, or allow her to find, a suitable lover. If not someone you work with, have her work here when she needs a breeder's cupful.”
The Commander stared at his daughter, who stared at the soup. “I'd just hoped my first time, at least, would be... I don't know... romantic?”
“You want to be in love with the man you're having a good time with?” Samantha probed gently. “You love your father, don't you.”
“Yes, deeply. He's kind, and he's protective, and he's, well, what I want in the father of my kids. He's just... not who I want in me....” She looked sheepishly at her father, and the trio chuckled ruefully.
“ So, if he's who you want for your children's father, but not who you want as your children's father, I don't see anything wrong with that. I don't intend to do my father any time soon, so if I don't get a male concubine who can both act as Daddy and impregnate me, then Dad will be asked to be the father figure to the kids I'll be getting from my other fellow volunteers.”
“Still doesn't sound terribly romantic,” Cassie complained.
“You've been reading the wrong kind of books,” Samantha noted. “You should be reading the Kama Sutra, not Harlequin Romances. Sex is for procreation; sex is for fun. If you find the right guy, sex is for bonding. Two out of three ain't bad. Commander, if you agree with this approach, tell your daughter she's not coming home tonight.”
“I have school this afternoon.”
“And if you don't meet Mr. 'Aw hell, you'll do' at school this afternoon, you'll come here after school, pull on a Chinese-style dress with no underwear, grab a drink, and flirt with all the cute volunteers, looking for one to take upstairs. Y'know, some of the cutest volunteers are guys.” Samantha gave Cassie a delightfully scandalous French kiss as Cassie's father laughed.
Meanwhile, over on the ice, an eleven-year-old boy was looking longingly at a particularly cute eleven-year-old girl dressed in a short-skirted outfit and white skates as the raven-haired sprite practised her ice dancing routines.
| Lordship Mayhem's Stories | Next Chapter | Swarm Home |