Second Period
Content: nosex humor Sci-FiFred and Hank stood shivering at the door to the conference hall that made up part of the brand-new Sault Ste. Marie Convention and Sports Centre, having a smoke. The two had driven big inter-city buses from Barrie, loaded with a Peewee team and their coaching staff, parents and siblings. The parking lot was chockablock full of other big comfortable buses, from all points of the compass. Some had come from southern Ontario, two from the Ottawa/Hull area, some from the States and a couple were from Manitoba.
And of course you weren't allowed to smoke inside. Their rapidly-cooling coffees kept their hands warm, offsetting the impact of the vasoconstrictors in the tobacco which, by reducing the size of the veins, tended to keep their hands cool.
A trim young lady popped her head out the door just as a last car came screaming into the parking lot. The occupants emerged in somewhat of a hurry. "Mr. and Mrs. Fielding? And this would be Bobbie? Defence on the West Park Panthers?" The young miss, resplendent in a Panthers jersey under her winter coat, nodded. "You just made it. Hurry up and get inside. The meeting is just ready to start."
The lady then turned to the drivers. "You two just about finished? If you hurry, there's still some breakfast left. You may want to pitch those coffin nails."
With that she shooed the parents and child in to the building.
"Well,"said Fred as he ground the remains of his cigarette under his boot, "ready to go inside?"
The perimeter suddenly turned grey.
"Fred," Hank gulped, terrified, "isn't that one of those fields they put up when they're doin' a pick-up?"
Fred was stunned. "Yeah... they must be doin' an extraction at the mall across the street."
Hank paused for two beats as he assessed the likelihood of Fred's guess. "No," he said slowly, his eyes growing bigger. "We'd see the street...."
"And we'd see the buildings next door...." Fred was also coming to a radically different conclusion than his first.
"It's here, isn't it?" Hank's voice was strangled.
"Yep. We better get inside."
"And fast!" Hank added.
Both men dropped their coffees, and Hank dropped his cigarette. The puddle of coffee gave a hiss as the butt landed in it. The pair then yanked open the double doors and raced inside as fast as their legs could take them.
Just before they had a chance to dash into the conference room that the pre-Tournament Breakfast was being served in, they were stopped by a half-dozen big men. Very big men. Very Very Big Men. 'Do not argue with me' Big Men.
"Let's calm down a moment, shall we?" suggested the apparent leader of the Very Very Big Men, himself a Very Very Big Man. His voice was as calm as milk, and his accent faintly Scottish.
Fred and Hank didn't argue with the Very Very Big Man. You especially don't argue with 'do not argue with me' big men when they are both armed and wearing body armour. They were hefting big-ass blasters the size of a .50-cal as easily as if they were sawed-off shotguns.
"We're going to walk in there, and we're not going to say anything about what we have seen in the corridor, are we?"
Fred gulped. "Nossir," he assented, eyes like saucers.
Hank just shook his head, scared spitless.
"Good. Now go in there and grab a seat, nice and calm like."
As they carefully entered the cavernous room, the young lady who had spoken to them at the door handed each of them a cocktail of orange juice and Champaign. "Sunrise Surprise for you gentlemen? You look like you could use it."
"Thanks," said Fred absently. Both took the proffered glasses and sat down at a nearby table.
The young lady then mounted the podium at the far end of the room. "Ladies, gentlemen, competitors, welcome to the Peewee and Minor Peewee Challenge Tournament and Extraction." Cheers filled the room. Nobody clued into the word "extraction" except Fred and Hank, and they were too terrified to bring anyone's attention to it.
As the noise quieted down, she continued her speech. "My name is Sub-Decurion Callie Whitefeather of the Confederacy Civil Service. The officer entering the room to my right," she pointed, "is Major James MacAllistor of the Confederacy Marines. And yes, this is an extraction."
As cheers rang to the ceiling, clothes started hitting the floor.
At one table, a Peewee player named Samantha Redburn turned to her father. "Can I get naked now too?"
"No!" responded both her parents. Her father Bob shot her mother Monica a stern look, and she remembered: she was a concubine now, not a decision-maker. Bob added, "When we get in our new quarters on the ship. Until then, only your mother and aunt."
Monica Redburn's eyebrows raised, her face turned beet-red... but she started frantically undoing the buttons on her blouse. Beside the mother, her sister Alice Munroe also started stripping.
In front, Major MacAllistor was giving the usual information, and as usual was quite brutal about it -- " marriages now done for all extracted persons, if you took your spouse she would be basically your chattel," -- and so on. Many of those present were in prepacks like the young female hockey player's parents and aunt, and therefore had done the research and were as prepared as they could get for this new kind of family setup.
"All hockey players! Make sure you bring your hockey gear with you!"
"Major," interrupted one concerned father as MacAllistor made his way to the podium, "my youngest child has a fever and is back at the hotel. His 15-year-old sister, my other concubine in my prepack, is at the hotel looking after him."
He took the man's CAP card. A six point eight. "You're staying at the HoJo? What room?"
"Five fifteen."
"Just a second." His face got a faraway look for a moment. "You accept Jolene as your concubine?"
"Yes, I do."
"Alright." He gave the card back. "They're waiting for you on board the transport in orbit. Your son is being taken to the medical bay; he should be out of a medical pod shortly with his fever cured. Is this the rest of your party? No other dependants or concubines?"
"No, sir, just these."
"Go over to that corner, where the Marine is standing. The nexus is there, it'll send you to the ship your son and concubine are on."
"Thank you, sir, thank you!"
Within a half-hour, half of those present were already through the transporter nexus and aboard the kilopod ship Grey Goose, to be assigned pods and get started on their medical checks.
The others, well, they had a wee bit of a problem....
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