Chapter 20 – Date with Destiny

Aside from the fact that one of the participants was the single highest-ranking officer currently on Thule, this was not all that much different than any other date meeting that two underage kids had dragged their parents into in the history of Thule.

Samantha wore her “home” hockey jersey, a pair of sandals and a winning smile. The jersey covered more than a concubine shift, but also allowed her to quickly adjust her dress appropriately if it turned out that the pod was full of naturists. She had taken the precaution remembering full well that apparently nobody on Thule had ever seen Diana's mother – or any of the Colonel's other three concubines, for that matter – wear anything but footwear. The males who accompanied Samantha wore matching jackets and pants, slightly dressy but casual footwear, collarless shirts, and a look of nervousness.

This was the sight that greeted Michael when he opened his pod door. Samantha started the introductions. “Michael, this is Lance Corporal Roger Bachelor and his son Daniel. Batch, Daniel, please meet Colonel Michael Deschenes. Daniel, the Colonel is your father's boss and not incidentally Diana's father.”

Daniel's eyes grew wide. Not being certain of the correct way of greeting one's father's commanding officer, he wordlessly saluted the man. Grinning in delight, Michael returned the salute and followed it up by shaking the young lad's hand.

“I understand we share an interest in watching ice dancing...” Michael murmured, gesturing the three inside.

All four of Michael's concubines made the three welcome, with Penny fussing over Daniel. Samantha recognized one of the other girls as Mike's office concubine – like many of the Civil Service officers, he “borrowed” his concubine's services for tasks outside the pod as well as her breeding duties within.

Unlike her mother or the other three concubines, Diana was not nude. She started off dressed in bicycle shorts and a black tee that both had clearly seen both better days and a shorter Diana; when she found that a suitor had arrived, she dashed upstairs and switched to a scoop-necked sleeveless blouse with ruffles, but kept the tight shorts. She sat on the floor like her mother, between Penny and Michael.

Michael proved a gracious host, complementing Batch on the progress he was making on his training, and asking him how he liked driving the Rommel. He then asked a delicate, potentially explosive-laden issue. “And is Daniel's mother in the stars as well?”

Batch's face took on a sad countenance. “In a manner of speaking.” Noticing his puzzled audience, he went on, “When he was four, and his little sister was two, a drunk driver sideswiped Sheila's car. She was killed, and her sister Teresa was left a quadriplegic. I would have taken her – she adores the kids and would make a wonderful concubine – but I don't even know if she's got a CAP card, let alone what her score would have been. When I was picked up, it was a workday and I was at lunch with a couple of colleagues, so my concubines are a university student who was working the summer for us, and one of the waitresses, neither of whom have high nurturing scores. That pickup didn't offer much in the way of mothers or fathers among the potential concubines.”

Batch smiled as he reminisced. “After Sheila died, Danny acted like a real man, even at that tender age. Despite his grief he pitched in to help me with Susan, feeding her, changing her diaper – that still embarrasses her when she's reminded of it – and trying to out-babysit the babysitters, quite often successfully.”

Daniel and Diana meanwhile hadn't taken eyes off each other. They were only looking through the corners of their eyes, but still neither was paying the slightest attention to the adults' conversation. Michael grinned and glanced rather pointedly at each child. Neither of the two lovebirds reacted – they hadn't seen a thing. Michael commented, “I hear we're getting an ice cream truck,” and again winked at Samantha, Batch and Penny. He might as well have been commenting on the valuation of Vietnamese corporations on the Rangoon stock exchange for all the interest either youngster evinced. He said nothing further and the others stayed silent, interested to see when the kids would notice.

The silence in the pod finally penetrated the pair's mutual preoccupation, and they started and looked around. “This is supposed to be the point where we adults are supposed to ask you two if you're still interested in going on a date together,” Michael advised them, his voice rich with amused irony.

Diana looked toward her crush with shy approval, nodding and returning her gaze to the floor. With a delighted grin the size of a slice of watermelon, Daniel gave an embarrassed nod as well. In the past ten minutes or so, neither had said so much as a word. Samantha reflected that this was a deep crush. At this rate, by the time the couple reached 13 everyone would be spending their time throwing them into separate cold showers to try to keep their youthful libidos in check.

Samantha, who was functioning as Daniel's mother, leaned over and whispered at the lad, not very quietly, “Ball's in your court now, Danny. When do you want to take her out, and what do you plan to do?” And please, she thought, let those plans contain nothing carnal – not that an 11-year-old's plans were likely to be anything approaching “carnal”.

“Ah, um, there's this play that the Acteurs Pathétique is putting on at the school theatre on Tuesday night. They say it's funny. Then we can have dinner at the Beauty Saloon? Maybe do some dancing?” He looked toward Diana for some support.

Diana beamed: it sounded fine by her. Still not trusting herself to speak, she merely nodded her head enthusiastically first at Daniel and then at her father.

As a result, Samantha found herself once again standing outside the pod of the most important personage on all Thule, the Governor. This time, she wore a fancy off-the-shoulder number that ended just above her knees. She carried a tiny purse that contained nought but replacement makeup, and was wearing a pair of low-heeled shoes that would be stylish yet comfortable to dance the night away in. As a mark of respect for Penny, because it made her feel a little naughty, and because she discovered that her bras didn't fit anymore as she had apparently now grown to a small B-cup, underwear was not part of the outfit. Every time she twirled while dancing, she was sure she'd give any observer a flash of beaver. Her mother and aunt had helped her choose the outfit and apply the light makeup she also wore. Her mother cried tears of happiness at the result, for her daughter looked so mature.

Her “date” for the evening was Batch. In the Thule way, he and Michael would accompany the two kids on their date all evening, trying to keep things going well and making sure the social gaffes were kept to an absolute minimum – and also that the kids didn't get too ... frisky.

Samantha's father, escorting his two concubines, was already on his way to the theatre. She would see them there, although her party would be sitting in reserved seats toward the front.

The AI had obviously announced their presence to the occupants of the Deschenes family pod, as the hatch promptly popped open on their arrival. Michael gestured them in, and offered them a cocktail while they waited for the ladies to come downstairs.

It didn't take long – it wouldn't, if all you had to fuss over were hair and shoes. Penny came down the elevator pad first, resplendent in high heels and with her hair done up in a fancy 'do. The effect of her application of sparklies was as if she were wearing a strapless dress or skin-tight body suit. Not for the first time Samantha realized the practicality of shaving off all one's pubic hair. Not for the first time Samantha found herself entranced both by Penny's ethereal beauty and granite-like self-confidence. Not for the first time Samantha found herself getting wet while watching Penny stride into a room.

As soon as Penny made her grand entrance, she moved aside and made a theatrical gesture: “And now, the one you're always waiting for, Diana Deschenes!”

Once again, Daniel found himself staring at a raven-haired angel and having to remind himself to breathe. Her hair was perched up high on her head, held in place by a couple of strategic combs. Two strands, teased into twirls, dangled down each temple. Her feet were encased in white low-heeled sandals, and her pretty little toes were freshly manicured and painted a cute white as well. All over her body, sparkles glistened and gleamed in a similar pattern to her mother, except with demure wide “shoulder straps”. Her tiny evening bag matched her body decoration.

Michael smiled at a pleasant memory. “One day, Penny and I were out shopping, and ended up in this dress shop. She was trying on outfit after outfit, and not happy with any of them. Finally, she turned to me and growled, 'Nothing looks good on me!' I replied that I agreed with her. Just at that moment, the interdiction field went up, and I said if she were my concubine that's exactly what I'd have her wear for the rest of her life. She smiled, stripped, kissed me and never wore anything since.”

“And if that's how he prefers me, that's how I'll stay,” Penny averred.

Diana looked shyly at Daniel. “Is that how you prefer me?” she asked.

Daniel nodded happily.

“Oh, thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou,” Diana exclaimed as she ran into his arms.

As they started somewhat inexpertly kissing, Penny began to tear up. Samantha just looked on in some envy. “Kids grow up so fast out here, don't they,” she remarked, completely unconscious of the irony that the planet's brothel keeper was herself still just over four weeks shy of her fourteenth birthday.

With his eyes still riveted to the sight of his daughter lip-locked to her boyfriend, he replied, “Yes, you do.”

“Point,” conceded Samantha.

“Much as I'm enjoying this tableau,” Penny interrupted the couple, “if we don't hurry up, we'll be late for the start of the show.”

The play was an original production, relying upon the audience's familiarity with local officials and situations for laughs. Although primarily concubines, the entirely amateur cast and crew were also drawn from the ranks of sponsors and dependants as well. They did a creditable job of entertaining the audience.

The Governor of Planet Amazonia, an incredibly hot planet, ran around with a green pace stick under her arms giving ludicrous orders. Her concubine was a man who was always dressed in a tuxedo, and making rollicking asides to the audience. Another character was a harried engineering officer. “Build it!” she'd be told, she'd look at the audience in mock panic and yell, “It'll take three weeks!” The Governor would respond, “You've got three hours,” she'd salute and leave – dashing off Stage Left, to appear shortly afterwards to report she'd accomplished construction, and to be sent off again on yet another construction time with a ludicrously short deadline.

One male character that took Samantha about 0.00823 seconds to identify came racing in wearing a grey uniform cut straight from the Pennsylvania State Troopers including jodhpurs. The boy yelled out with a squeal “I'm thirteen!” and then tripped and broke the two large balloons that had been bouncing around under his shirt. “Mother! I need another pair of tits!” he cried, and exited stage right.

The Sergeant-Major (male, of course, and probably a Marine sponsor as he had a height of two metres and the shoulders of a Winnipeg Blue Bombers tackle) came in at one point and announced, “The last ship gave us a present!” “Oh, what?” He shot the audience a large grin as he handed her a large pineapple: “An organic hand grenade!” Samantha shot a worried look at the Colonel, only to find to her relief that he was, if anything, laughing harder than anyone else.

The play had been a rollicking success, and the after-parties had the Beauty Saloon hopping. A lot of the theatre audience had gone over after the final curtain call to wind up the night with drinks and dancing. More than a few, like the Deschenes party, had also booked tables for dinner.

Daniel, coached beforehand that he would be ordering on behalf of his date, had quizzed Diana on her favourite meals, and was able to confidently tell the waitress, “Two fettuccine Alfredo, with Italian salad to start and two Sundowners.” The Sundowner, a mix of white grape juice, sparkling water and fresh mint, was the closest mocktail on the menu to a glass of champagne.

The Colonel contacted Samantha's father, seated at a nearby table with Monica, Alice, another sergeant and that sergeant's younger concubine, and got permission for Samantha to order an alcoholic beverage. She figured it would be safest to choose what the Colonel chose: a Bronx. She found it tasty with a strong flavour of oranges, although the alcohol did leave her a touch light-headed. She stayed in control of her faculties, though, and was able to note that the two youngsters were acting appropriately grown-up.

After the dinner, which everyone closed off with a light Italian ice, came the dancing. The young couple managed to dance about one-for-two, alternating between slow songs, fast driving club dance beats and even giving the Tango a try. They weren't quite as good as Michael and Penny, but Diana's parents had enjoyed a much longer period of practise than the two kids had. Samantha stuck to the club tunes, and decided she needed to spend at least some time before her birthday in the sleep pod studying some more sophisticated dance styles.

At one point, worn out from trying to keep up with the kids, Samantha and Penny took a break at a table at the edge of the dance floor. Diana's hair was down by now, and whipped around as she delightedly swung her hips and waved her hands in the air to the driving dance beat. As she took in the cute sight, Samantha asked Penny, “Did you ever think, before you were extracted, that you'd be escorting your naked eleven-year-old daughter on her first date – and to a brothel, at that?”

Penny thought for a moment, a grin dancing around the edges of her mouth. “Never,” she confessed before bursting out laughing at the absurdity of the situation.

At the end of a very successful evening, Daniel brought his young date to the front door of her pod. Although they had afternoon classes the next day, he really didn't want tonight to end. “See you at school tomorrow? Did you want me to pick you up on the way?”

She knew full well that “on the way” was out of the way for him. He lived a third of the way around the dome. “Oh no, you don't have to.”

“It's no trouble at all,” Daniel insisted gallantly. Besides, it was a chance to see more of her – not that he wasn't seeing all of her right at that moment.

Diana glanced at her mother, who after getting approval from her sponsor/husband nodded approvingly. “All right.”

“Tomorrow at twelve-thirty, then?” That would get them to class by one.

“Why don't you come by at 11:30?” interrupted Penny. “You can have lunch together before you go.”

“What should I wear to school tomorrow?” asked Diana, suddenly shy and uncertain.

“What your mother usually wears is fine by me. It complements your eyes.”

And you've been practising that line all night, Samantha realized. He'd taken seduction lessons from an expert. She glanced over at Batch, who had the grace to blush.

As Samantha entered her own pod that night, she reflected that she might very well have just had dinner with a future Brigade Colonel.