Chapter 6: Sweet Talkin’ Woman

Katie knew absolutely nothing about ships or a Merchant Marine, so she decided that she was going to learn the basics so she could take on responsibility for that part of their charter. Her first step was to transport herself into her spouses’ cabin aboard the Summer Paradise. Dressed to the nines, she took a small risk and marched herself to the dining room for lunch where she joined Michael and her other spouses.

“Can you get me maybe an hour with the captain?” she asked them, “and then maybe some time with the sailing master or whatever they call it?”

When Hoag appeared, she asked him to promenade her around the ship while she pumped him for information. She used that to establish a visible legitimacy for her presence even though she was not on the passenger list. After all, who was going to question someone so visibly connected to the ship’s captain?

She learned that Captain Hoag was a graduate of the Massachusetts Maritime Academy, a top ranked university producing several undergraduate and graduate degrees in maritime fields. With a faculty of around 130 and a student body of approximately 1700, it looked like prime territory for a hunt. Hoag pointed out that Jan Tormey, his Staff Captain, was a graduate of Maine Maritime Academy, an excellent school of about half the size of MMA, his own alma mater.

Hoag was enthusiastic about extracting from both schools. He explained the various academic degrees and practical training for the students and pointed out the bonus of Maine’s marine studies for use on a new planet. Delighted with the obvious intelligence and beauty in his one-woman audience, Hoag paraded her to the bridge and introduced her around.

Her spouses had already worked their magic, so everyone present was aware of her status. Hoag relieved Jan, and she took Katie aside so that Katie could get a down and dirty assessment of her own Alma Mata.

That evening, Katie was seated at the Captain’s table with his wife and Anita and Brian Davidson. He introduced her as a referral from an old friend who had expressed an interest in reserving a large block of cabins for a later cruise. In doing so, he piqued Anita’s avarice and established a high social standing for Katie in her eyes.

Katie used the opportunity to extract a confession of boredom from Anita and to plant the suggestion of a cruise with a succession of music ‘festivals’ at each port on a subsequent cruise. She iced the cake by mentioning that she felt such a program would be worth a premium rather than a ‘block discount’ when she booked her party cruise.

By the time dinner finished with an excellent port wine, Anita was panting, dollar signs dancing in her eyes.

Katie arrived at each school with a letter of introduction to the respective president. She had little time to pull this off, as she needed to organize and execute before graduation, ROTC commissioning, and the start of training cruises. Luckily, there was a little time between the two schools’ schedules.

Her pitch to the two school heads was almost identical. The letters gained her brief appointments, and when she was ushered into the first office in Buzzards Bay, she handed the school’s head, Malcolm Adams, Rear Admiral, USMS, the now frequently used PDA appearing device. While he was recovering his orientation, she placed a transporter disk on the office floor, then she used it to move them to her family’s quarters in the moon where Carole and Ginger sat at a conference table.

“My apologies, sir,” Katie started, “but I felt this demonstration would do more than words to establish my authenticity. We have a proposal that will take a little more time to explain than the time you allotted me. If you can spare us an additional hour, I’ll return us to your office to cancel your next appointment, then my partners and I will explain.”

In both instances, the shocked individual nodded acceptance, appointments were cancelled, and the conference commenced back in the moon.

Katie began, “I’m a member of the Confederacy’s Office of Targeted Extractions working in cooperation with the Earth Defense Forces and the US Government. We propose to extract anyone in your academy who wishes. This would be an exception to usual practice, because we are able to offer a variety of assignments that should meet every need or desire.”

When the man started to interrupt, Katie held up her hand. “Let me outline my proposal, and we’ll get to specifics. First, we are establishing a space equivalent of a merchant marine academy at a new colony planet. Second, many colonies have oceans and large bodies of water and need the kind of marine expertise you teach. Third, the Confederacy has a training program to help the EDF establish and fight from ocean-based redoubts.”

“We are proposing to establish sister academies to train for the first two, and transport of students and faculty to the colony on Azahar for those who wish to return to Earth to fight from the seas. If you personally are interested in the new sister academies, you would be one of three candidates competing for the top slot. Naturally, anyone wishing to pursue a future as if the extraction had not happened is free to do so.”

“I’d like to say I’m speechless, but obviously I’m not,” started the man. “You say everyone asking to be picked up will be extracted?”

“That’s almost the case,” explained Katie, “but there would not be a guarantee of assignments until CAP scores and qualifications are evaluated against need. We can assure everyone that they could return to Earth prior to their ship’s departure if they did not agree with their assignment or status. We also reserve the right to reject anyone found unsuitable - a child abuser, for example - or random attendees with nothing to offer. By and large, faculty, staff, and students will all be offered extraction.”

“So what would you need from me?” He inquired.

“While there are no promises, think as if you were going to be the new commandant. What components would you be missing if you were totally independent from Earth? Would you need a marine biologist, an oceanographer, an astrophysicist, a trade lawyer, what? Find someone or someones to fill that need. Maybe you can cherry pick from some other academy like SUNY. I’ll leave a drone with you so that you can communicate with our AI to vet any candidates’ CAPs,” she answered. “Then you could invite them to whatever you decide is the best time to maximize student and faculty presence. Family is welcome as well.”

“We might be able to run down one or two missing people or pre-packs, but that is not guaranteed like when we pick up dependents. On the other hand, don’t tip Firsters by encouraging folks to bring their pre-packs. Anyone worth their salt knows to do that these days.”

“I am also in contact with one of your sister institutions. Once you both are committed, you can expect our AI to inform you, and you can strategize together.” Then she warned, “We want you and MMA, BUT any sign of a slip that would endanger the operation, and we’ll move on to another choice.”

They discussed details and possibilities for another half hour, and Katie began wrapping up for her departure. Then came the question, “This is all quite impressive. What did you do before you joined the Confederacy, and how did you come to this job?”

Katie smiled, “I was an elementary school teacher, then I was extracted as a concubine, then I killed my pedophile sponsor, and then, as a friend says, ‘voilà’ they decided I was qualified for this job’ - so here I am.”

She shook his hand and left him in stunned silence. Her next appointment was that afternoon in Castine, Maine.