Chapter 12 - Saturday Afternoon - Orientation

The first meal on board a colony ship is always a memorable one. The replicators are a complete mystery and the food choices are often overwhelming. The clothing is new, the ship is confusingly laid out and the colours in your pod are very alien, and in general there's a lot of getting used to things going on.

Ben started taking charge immediately after he came out of Medical. He instructed the AI to restrict the food choices to four kinds of pizza (pepperoni and cheese, vegetarian, meat-lovers and Hawaiian), and the drinks choices to one brand of soft drinks and fruit juices, milk, coffee and tea. To minimize the time that each person took at the replicators during the first pass, he further limited each serving to one slice each for the kids under 9 and two slices for anyone older, and one drink apiece. Additional servings were allowed at the same rate, but only after everyone else had received their first serving.

Major MacAllistor stood on a low podium to start his talk as everyone sat back from their repast. It hewed fairly close to the standard lecture; anyone who had ever been on a pick-up had heard it all before. "First, sponsors: you are citizens of the Confederacy with all the rights, privileges and responsibilities thereof. You are NO LONGER citizens of whatever country you belonged to before. You are here to do two jobs, the one that you volunteered for, and to reproduce. You are subject to the Uniform Code of Military Justice for as long as we continue to battle against the Sa'arm. This crew is off to a breeding, research and training colony called Atlantis, in a system called Atlantisat. The planet is roughly the size of the Earth, in a similar orbit in terms of shape and distance, from a star similar to our own former sun, or Earthat as it is known in the Confederacy. Because this is a breeding colony, female sponsors among you are thereby granted immediate permission to become pregnant, and are recommended to bear one offspring at a minimum of every two years. Normally, ladies, you'd have to serve a given period of time first before you'd be given pregnancy leave.

"Because of the 'breeding colony' nature of your new home, we've relaxed the proscription of no more than two concubines for every incremental increase in your CAP score. If you pick up at least one couple with children, you get an extra concubine - a supernumerary. We also look at the nurturing score of your concubines rather closely: if they get high numbers consisting of a nurturing score of at least eight, plus a second factor that adds together the number of offspring and their ages, then we allow a second supernumerary. If any of your dependants do not get a sponsorship-level CAP score on their fourteenth birthday, they become your concubine without any decrease in your allowable head count.

"Now, concubines: your status is not the same as a sponsor. You are breeding stock, to put it bluntly, and are owned by your sponsors. They're responsible for your behaviour, and you are answerable to them. Yes, they can have you recycled if you misbehave severely enough, and yes that is as ugly as it sounds. They dictate what you wear or don't wear, when and with whom you breed, how many kids you have, what enhancements you get, the works. Hopefully your sponsor is smart and wants a happy pod, as they'll consult with you and not make you do anything too outrageous, but basically nothing in the Kama Sutra is too outrageous to be done publicly. As far as your marriages go: they're over. You are no longer married. You are owned. Where the wife is the concubine and the husband is the sponsor, he can kick you to the curb. If you want to stay with your husband, you do exactly what he wants and help your sister-concubines to adapt. If both husband and wife are concubines, again your marriage is over: the man is expected to sex all the women in the household and if there's another man or two then the former husband is expected to share his former wife with them.

"Dependants, we've got two classes of them: under 13, and 13-year-olds. Under 13, the rule is mitts bloody well off. You can kiss them and hug them and if they fuck up you can spank them on their bare butts with the open palm of your hand, but that's about it. No sex, and 'no' very definitely means 'no'! If you get caught, and with the AI in attendance at all times you WILL get caught, the penalties are severe - you'll wish you'd never been born.

"Dependants who are 13 years old, fall into a sort of nebulous netherworld. It's all strictly voluntary for them. They're allowed oral and anal sex, but nothing vaginal at all. So if your little 13-year-old dependant wants to sixty-nine someone, she or he can. If it becomes too intense and they want to stop, it stops immediately. Pop their cherry with their permission or not, and as with anyone under 13 years of age you'll wish you'd never been born.

"We have another class on this boat, first time and therefore without precedent for us to go by: junior sponsor." He subvocally commanded to the three Haywood sisters, 'Stand up.' They did, waving to everyone around them.

"Don't ask how they got scored, I don't believe it myself and I was in the loop for much of this. Anyway, they're in an even more nebulous situation than the 13-year-olds. They're all under 14, so they shouldn't even HAVE a CAP score. They all scored eight plus, so we should theoretically be allowing them six to eight concubines each. But the AI agree that they're not mature enough for their own households."

Carrie stuck her tongue out, and spoilt the effect by giggling happily. The crowd laughed.

"Ah, yes," MacAllistor rolled his eyes. "They will continue to be part of their parents' joint household. The restrictions on sexual activity are the same as for dependants. They will be permitted two concubines, a couple preferably, but any order they give their concubines or dependants can be countermanded by their legal guardians, in plainer English their parents. If their concubines think the order's unreasonable, they can immediately appeal to their junior sponsors' parents, and if they're unavailable then on up through the colony chain of command."

Various adults' eyes boggled at this. Underage youths with their own concubines? Unheard of! What they didn't know was that this set of rules had been the result of much discussion between various AI's, commanders and the Haywoods. It was far more restrictive than Carrie, Melodie and Marcie wanted, while at the same time far more permissive than was wanted by the Haywood parents. Only the constant presence of the AI and the promise of remaining in their parents' joint household had finally calmed everyone's most serious worries. It hadn't eliminated the worries, just reduced them to an unpleasant itch.

Major MacAllistor let the crowd take in the momentous changes for a moment. Marcie took advantage of the break to whisper to her family, "Guys, anybody note the weather in the geofronts?"

Ben got the faraway look as he chatted subvocally with the AI. "Anything we want it to be..."

Marcie indicated with her eyes the outfit that she, like everyone else in the dining hall, was wearing - or rather, wasn't wearing. "It'd look like Cap d'Agde, only bigger!"

"We'd need to have a word with the Planetary Governor," Ben smirked, winking at them. "And now that we've had a word with the Governor, let's let the Governor have a word with his Council."

The Council being the former Board of Directors of the Pine Point Resort, the discussion to turn Atlantis into a planetwide Cap d'Agde was brief. Most of the replies were snorts of merriment and thumbs up from the 12 persons of the Council scattered around the two dining halls.

The Council had made its first momentous decision on the future of Atlantis.

"Welcome aboard the kilopod transport City of Paris," greeted the young Decurion to the Haywoods. Due to the size of their requirement plus the factor of the 'junior sponsors', it was decided to deal with them separately. The Decurion looked at the five, all decked out in Navy black. The three youngest wore the butter bar of the Ensign, whereas Ben wore Commodore pips and his mate Marianne Colonel's markings.

Decurion Lisa Price led her charges to a nearby lounge. "I understand you have some criteria set up?"

Marcie nodded. "My sisters and I need two apiece, Mom needs eight under the revised rules and Dad needs ten. We'd like most of them to be couples, although Mom and Dad will probably take on a couple of single moms. And the more kids that tag along with those the merrier."

They entered the lounge to find themselves facing a small platoon of worried mothers and fathers, and a cacophony of sound from energetic youngsters cooped up too long and just trying to burn off a little steam.

"OK, let's get this party started!" hollered Carrie. "I now introduce the Governor of the brand-spanking-new colony of Atlantis, Ben Haywood!"

As the startled adults clapped politely, Ben addressed the crowd. "We were extracted with no unclaimed concubines in sight, so we need to choose from those of you on board this ship. We know you've been told about our daughters, and here they are. Marcie?"

"Thank you, we know your kids need to get somewhere and play, so Decurion Price, if you could get a second lounge set up as a playground? Once I've made my selection, the three of us will start steering the new dependants over there. In the meantime, can William and Heather Winters please come over? And bring your kids."

A black couple, nude but for their collars and heavily embarrassed, emerged from the pack of petrified parents and followed the uniformed child to an interview area off to the side of the lounge. Behind them, in an effort to capture the attention of the children, the shutters were pulled back to show the Earth floating below. Also visible was the Aurora-class transport Princess Sophia and a new arrival from another colony, the Kilo-class Atlantic Clipper. All that colony's kilopod ships were named "Clipper", and as a joke sported the defunct Pan Am Airline's blue meatball in an unobtrusive spot on the engineering section.

As the two parents settled down across the table from Marcie and their kids crushed together at the far end of the interview room, Marcie started to talk. "All right, interview time. I already know that you two have gorgeous CAP scores for nurturing and loyalty, are smart and are not that aggressive. And I know you were told I get two concubines and have to keep living with Mom and Dad until I'm fourteen. Tell me about yourselves, starting with your education and how you met."

Heather gulped, but began, "I got through high school, but didn't have money for college. I met my husband when I was working for a janitorial company - we clean offices. I started working for them before I was even out of high school."

Marcie looked meaningfully at William. "I made it through high school, but the money just wasn't there for college, neither. We make a living - made a living, I guess." He gave his wife a squeeze. "We have three gorgeous kids, come up here." He waved them forward. They were shy and hesitated, but he grabbed the eldest by the hand and pulled her forward. "Ginny, she's eight, Rick, he's six, and Kimmy, she's four."

Marcie flirted briefly with all three offspring. Kimmy especially didn't know what to make of the girl in the black uniform and black Sam Browne belt. "Would you like more?" she asked their parents, eyes aglow.

"We couldn't afford more, but we wanted more!" Heather affirmed. William rubbed her hand and smiled.

"Here's the roughest part. You two aren't married anymore, not by Confederacy rules. We don't want exclusives." She pointedly looked at William. "You will be expected to share Heather with Carrie's male, with Melodie's male, with our Dad, and with the male concubines that Dad and Mom pick up. Heather, you'll be expected to share William here with all the other female concubines. We want to mix up the genes as much as possible. When I turn fourteen, you'll be sharing your man with me. The same with Carrie and Melodie when they turn fourteen."

They blinked at her. She sighed. "Yes, I know what I mean when I say 'share'," she advised them with some asperity. "Have sexual intercourse. Breed. Make babies. Screw. Y'know, fuck?" She rolled her eyes. "Everyone seems to get their knickers in a knot when I say that one."

"You couldn't know the meaning of that word. You're what, thirteen?" Heather was somewhat nonplussed.

"Twelve. I'm also a sophomore at MIT, which apparently gets to come along for the ride as soon as a cube ship becomes available. Want to see a transcript of my marks?" She indicated her uniform. "I'm not dressed like this because everyone thinks I wook wike the cutest widdle wuggums in a Halloween costume. I'm a volunteer, dammit, and a Navy officer. It's just I'm one of only three volunteers in the entire Confederacy not allowed to reproduce yet."

They blinked at the rant. The girl was clearly older than her years.

"Now, normally, a sponsor would test-drive their concubine choice by boffing them, but I don't have that luxury. Right now one of my sisters is at the same stage of the interview as I am with her couple, so we're going to have you swap partners for some quick nookie, right here, right now, in the same room together. If neither of you freaks out on us at the sight of your mate screwing someone you've only just met, I'll offer you my sponsorship and your kids will be on what's probably the safest planet from the Sa'arm's predations that we've yet found." Her eyes were glowing again. "Ready?"

They kept holding onto their hands and nodded. "Just a sec, kids!" she cautioned the two adults.

Carrie and the Decurion walked in, escorting her two prospective concubines, Samantha and George Whitman. Decurion Price then led Kimmy, Rick and Ginny off to join the Whitman offspring.

"Samantha and George, have you had a chance to meet Heather and William yet?"

Both the men nodded. Samantha added, "We had a chance to chat while we were waiting for you to come on board." Her accent was out of rural England, rich but not incomprehensible.

"Here's the deal. If the two of you couples can do a switch with each other, then we figure the four of you will be compatible."

"Here? In front of you?" Heather was scandalized.

"Why not? Our parents did each other in front of us not two days ago. Mind you, they didn't know we were watching at the time...." Marcie smiled evilly and winked at the adults, who laughed a trifle self-consciously.

Gingerly the couples converged, the ladies taking a good long look at the men's equipment. It didn't take much foreplay for each couple to reach sufficient arousal to be ready - just a bit of kissing and rubbing. Before either woman knew what was happening, each was embracing the man in front of her, French kissing him and running her fingers excitedly over his chest and shoulders. Gradually each woman's hands worked their way down her partner's front, down past his stomach and to the rod stiffening in front of her.

Marcie and Carrie stood stiff and alert, their arms crossed just below their chests and their eyes missing nothing. Heather, despite her scandalized reaction to having to perform in front of two prepubescent girls, was the first to lose herself in the moment. She backed George onto the table that Marcie had been sitting behind during her interview and worked her way down from his mouth to his penis. She stopped for a taste of his nipples on her way and leaving a trail of saliva down to the tip of his shaft and back up to his testicles. She clearly knew what she was doing; George fought it but without the Darjee enhancements couldn't last long. Just before he shot his wad, she managed to cover his glans with her mouth and proceeded to swallow his entire load.

William was pile-driving Samantha from behind, clearly turned on by his wife's antics. One finger was playing with Samantha's clitoris, while she played with her own nipple with her right hand. As George suffered le petit mort with Heather's mouth embracing his manhood, Samantha took her left hand and proceeded to manualize Heather to orgasm.

The four embraced each other as they came down from their carnal highs. Carrie, staring at the foursome, opined matter-of-factly to Marcie, "That was hot." As Marcie calmly nodded agreement, Carrie added, "AI, please make sure that there's a rotor in the replicator when I get back to quarters tonight. And make sure that the batteries are fully charged."

"Make that two, please, AI," added Marcie. "Plus, I'd like to extend an offer of sponsorship to William and Heather."

"And I'd like to offer sponsorship to Samantha and George."

Both couples, still out of breath from their recent erotic exertions, panted their acceptance.

"William and Heather Winters are now the registered concubines of Marcie Haywood. Samantha and George Whitman are now the registered concubines of Carrie Haywood. Question for Carrie Haywood. I have multiple definitions of 'rotor' in my files. Please be more explicit."

Carrie and Marcie smirked and blushed as the four newly registered concubines puzzled over what a 'rotor' was.

"It's a small, thumb-sized, oval vibrator with a battery pack/controller unit attached by a thin wire. It's used on the clitoris, nipples, labia minoris and majoris, and by the very adventurous on the G-spot."

"Definition confirmed. Two rotors will be waiting in the replicator in your pod when you return."

George whispered to Samantha, "They're how old again?"