Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: Taking Deliveries
Part: 5 of 10
Universe: The Swarm
Summary: The much-requested sequel to Shopping Around.  The antics of the
group picked up by CPLs Taylor and Evans on their first night aboard the
Catch-22
Keywords: MF MFF FF oral anal D/s ScFi

Chapter 5

	Rick was back in less than ten minutes with Mickey's cell.  She read
off the number and Rick transferred it to a separate device.  This time, he
merely led her to a small cabin and closed the door before telling the AI to
make the connection.

	"Hello?" The sound came out of nowhere on the AI channel.

	Rick waved at Mickey, who responded, "Ms. McPherson?"

	"Yes?"

	Rick waved Mickey to silence.  "Is this Ms. McPherson, the still
fertile nursery school teacher?"

	"Who is this?"

	"C'mon, I told you enough just now that you know -- we met today,"
Rick chided.

	"You're that Marine!" Ms. McPherson replied, then obviously confused,
added, "What do you want?"

	"I'm here to make you an offer you can't refuse," Rick replied.
"Someone failed the psych exam and we have an open slot from the pickup that
netted Ms. Rawlins.  We can chase down a replacement the normal way, or I can
cut the corner and take you."

	"I... see..."  Janine McPherson licked dry lips and held the phone to
her ear with a suddenly shaky hand.  "What do I have to do?"

	"What everyone else does, once things settle down," Rick replied, "but
this is a one-time offer under special circumstances, so it comes with a
premium."

	"W--what kind of premium?"

	"I won't be your sponsor," Rick told her, "we're filling a spot for a
nice old fud of a research professor -- but I'm scalping the ticket.  You're
gonna pay me for the privilege."

	Janine swallowed, trying to clear her dry throat.  "What do you want?"

	"Nothing you can't pay," Rick replied with a nasty chuckle, "naked."

	"Oh."  There didn't seem to be anything else to say but, "Why me?"

	"I like loosening up stuffy women," Rick replied.

	"What do I do?" Janine asked.

	"Nobody else gets time to put their shit in order, so you don't,
either," Rick told her.  "Go to your closet and find something you can be out
of in three seconds flat -- practice, if you have to, because I'll be timing
you.  Do you have flip-flops?"

	"Yes."

	"Wearing whatever you've picked out and flip-flops, go down to the
corner -- the one with Jackson Street -- and stand there.  Be alone.  It's
nineteen minutes of ten -- you be there at ten.  If you're there, and if you
show the proper attitude by following my instructions EXACTLY, you won't be
going back to your house.  Fuck up, though, and it'll be embarrassing."

	"What are you going to...?"

	"You know what?  It doesn't matter -- because if you get taken, you'll
be doing as you're told, anyway, and what you think of as polite society won't
have shit to do with it!" Rick cut her off.  "This is a one-time deal -- take
it or leave it.  Eighteen minutes."  He killed the connection with a hand
signal.

	"That was mean," Mickey accused.

	"No, it wasn't," Rick argued.  "Think about what you and the others
did -- or could have done.  I've been on pickups where a guy fucked three
women and took one.  I've been on pickups where sponsors started cat-fights
and took the winner -- or the loser.  She's getting a good deal here -- and a
lot more warning than YOU got -- and she needs to have her nose rubbed in how
fortunate she is to even get the offer!"

	"Well..." Mickey grimaced.

	"Take that Clark woman -- she pulled a train, and her sponsor almost
didn't take her!" Rick reminded Mickey.  "Anything I do to her on her own
probably won't compete with being tested to see that she's airtight by a bunch
of construction goons..."  He pursed his lips.  "What did you have to do for
your sponsor?  I forget..."

	Mickey hung her head.  "Not a lot."

	"Did he even test-drive you?"

	"No."

	Rick shook his head.  "You need to talk to some of the others, I
think, before you decide what's mean.  Go on back to your sponsor -- your
piece of this is done."  He waved her out the door.  Mickey left, thoughtful.

                        -----------------------

	Janine McPherson stood looking at her phone, surprised that the
offensively rude Marine had hung up on her.  He seemed to delight in shocking
behavior and comments; rude, crude and socially unacceptable seemed to be
descriptive.  On the other hand, by all accounts, he was being brutally honest
about the whole thing...  It all came down to the question, 'just how badly do
I want to go?'  The price of admission seemed steep -- but the benefits...
The media had some clips of the aliens -- the Swarm -- laying waste to other
aliens with a fine disregard for the idea that they might be sentient beings.
They only had people's word for the fact that any of the videos or other
reports were real -- but if they weren't what kind of incredible scam could
the Confederacy be running?

	The clock didn't allow her to stop and think about things; if she did,
she would miss the Marine's deadline -- and one thing was certain, he was
deadly earnest about her following instructions!  All the time she pondered
the issue and her response, she was digging through drawers and flipping
hangers -- what to wear?  A sun dress?  At ten p.m.?  What made sense?  She
had a wraparound skirt somewhere...  Three seconds...  A look at her
wristwatch left her frenzied -- it was ten minutes of ten already!  Flip-flops
-- where had she put them?  There had to be something she could throw on --
and, apparently, throw off -- rapidly...  Time was running short; she would
need a jacket against the cool of the evening...  Inspiration struck -- a
raincoat!  Eight minutes...  Naked, she dialed the school, getting the after-
hours message.  Pushing past to voicemail, she left a message for her boss,
"Patricia?  It's Janine.  Unless I call back really embarrassed, I won't be in
-- I'm being picked up by the Confederacy.  Sorry about the notice, but at
least you're getting some.  Wish me luck!  Bye!"  When had she made the final
decision, exactly?  Did it matter?  Janine threw on the raincoat and dashed
out the front door, locking it behind her.  Down the front steps to the
sidewalk, turn right, walk to the corner -- and stand there, in a raincoat and
flip-flops -- at ten p.m.  What kind of idiot did she look like?  If the
police came by, she stood no chance at all of explaining what she was up to!

	Her watch said it was ten o'clock -- and there was no Marine in sight.
Was it all a practical joke?  Maybe her watch was wrong...  Had she been late?
Janine cracked open her cell phone; no, it was now ten oh one, but that meant
that she'd arrived on time...  Surely he wasn't the kind of jerk who screwed
with people's minds...  Where was he?

	Rick was in orbit, watching Janine through the cameras of the drone
that had placed the transport pad behind some bushes twenty feet away.  He was
watching to see if she'd followed instructions and come alone -- and yes, he
was getting a kick out of watching her stew...  After watching her fidget for
three full minutes, he stepped to the transport pad.

	The flicker of light behind her made Janine turn around.  "You're
late!" she accused.

	"No, I'm not," Rick replied calmly, "I never said I would be here at
ten, I said YOU should!  I could have waited another half-hour to see if you
were serious, but you were looking too itchy to allow you to stand around that
long."

	"You're a bastard -- you know that?" Janine rasped angrily.

	Rick pretended to be shocked, "Aw, gee, THAT's not polite...  Where
are your manners?"  He looked her up and down, leering.  "Nice outfit.  Does
it meet spec?"  He raised his watch.  "Get out of it."

	"Here?" Janine gasped.

	"One..." Rick didn't look up.

	Janine flinched and got going -- but didn't quite make it.  "Four and
a half seconds," Rick reported, when the coat puddle around her feet.  "You
probably would have made it except for being stupid on the front end -- want
to go for best two out of three?"

	Janine, who was covering her breasts with a forearm and her pubic fur
with the other hand, stood there for a moment with her mouth open, looking
around for witnesses.  "We're going to get arrested!"

	"Never gonna happen," Rick replied.  "Do you want to try again, or do
you want to go home because you failed to follow instructions?  Your call..."

	Janine stood looking at him for a good ten seconds, flabbergasted,
then squatted and fumbled for the coat.  "I'll try again," she muttered,
pulling the coat around her, still squatting.

	Rick let her stand again before cocking his head.  "Do you do naked?
You act like you've never been nude before.  If you'd posed some way the first
time, we probably wouldn't have to mess with this, but you're just not getting
it, so this time, when you drop the coat, kick it away and stand with your
fingers laced behind your head and your feet shoulder-length apart -- got it?"

	Shock and outrage painted Janine's features.  "You're kidding!"

	"Nope," Rick replied, shaking his head.  "This is about following
instructions.  Modesty is a waste of time -- yours AND mine.  Your private
parts aren't private any more -- they belong to your owner -- and,
temporarily, to me.  He's going to want to see them.  Public nudity in new
concubines is the norm.  If I put a collar and leash on you and walk you
through downtown, I want you to wiggle your butt!"  He eyed his watch.
"Ready?"

	"You won't like..."

	"Go!"

	Janine dropped the coat -- and diffidently assumed the position.  Rick
eyed her.  "The coat drop was fast, but you were slow getting into position.
You've got a second and a half to make up, and that bought you maybe a quarter
second.  Next time, you need to snap to in just under two seconds, or we're
done here."  He ran his eyes up and down her.  "I've seen worse -- in fact,
you have no idea.  Besides, what you look like on pickup has very little to do
with how you'll look after a couple of weeks, anyway."  He sighed
theatrically, "I'm going to say this again, REAL SLOW so you get it.  We sold
Doc Bradley on you based upon your intelligence, but I haven't seen a whole
lot of it yet.  This is about obedience -- it's about following instructions.
OF COURSE the instructions aren't simple shit -- well, actually, they have
been, but they're in conflict with your bullshit standards for personal
behavior -- what would telling you to scratch you nose show me about what
you'll do when something hard to do comes along?"  He sighed, more or less
theatrically.  "Put it back on and we'll go for three -- and THIS time, you'd
better MOVE or we're done here!"

	Eyeing Rick, Janine picked up her coat again and slid into it.  Rick
waited until she had settled into it and prompted, "Ready?"

	"Ready."

	"Go!"

	Janine flipped the coat back so it slid down her arms and snapped into
position as soon as the sleeves cleared her hands.  Rick pursed his lips.
"Just barely.  I'm probably giving you the benefit of the doubt.  That being
the case, we'll have to keep testing."  He stepped up and palmed a breast.
"Don't break position, Honey.  Remember, I own you.  If I decide to whip out a
needle and pierce your nipple, you'd better stand there and watch.  This is
all really simple -- you do as I say or I walk away.  Do you like sex?
Where's your CAP card?"

	"It's in the right coat pocket," Janine replied.

	"Stay there -- I'll get it."  Rick knelt and fished for the card.  "I
asked you a question," he reminded her while he perused it, still squatting.

	"I like sex," Janine admitted.

	"But it's not a driving force in your life, I notice," Rick replied.
But there were some interesting sub-scores there...  "Maybe the approach has
been all wrong.  Are you wet?"

	Embarrassed, Janine replied, "I... might be."

	"Hold still -- I'll check."

	It was probably the hardest thing Janine had ever done in her life,
leaving her hands locked behind her while a strange man slid a finger between
her labia -- but somehow, she managed it -- in fact, she spread her stance a
bit, without thinking.  And if she hadn't been wet at the start, she certainly
was by the time he finished!  "You know," Rick mused, "some women like to put
up a little resistance when they're approached sexually -- and a subset of
those women -- the majority, actually -- want to lose.  What do you think of
that?"

	"I..."  Janine quivered inside.  Did the card say that?  Was
EVERYTHING on there?

	"Okay, moving right along..." Rick stood.  "Next test:  Get down, fish
out my cock, and suck.  And before you ask me stupid questions, yes, I'm
serious!"

	"All right."  Janine knelt up and worked at Rick's fly.  "I can't
believe I'm doing this."

	"You don't have to, Honey," Rick told her calmly.  "You can just walk
away.  Frankly, you might be too cantankerous for Doc Bradley -- he's a gentle
soul..."

	It was just the right note for Rick to take; Janine, worried that she
was being stupid and passing up what would eventually be an easy position, got
serious about sucking Rick in an effort to show her willingness to please.

	It was a big cock -- not two feet or anything, but plenty big enough
to eclipse her ex-husband's.  She wondered how far the big Marine was planning
to go, and whether she was going to have to accommodate it -- and where.
Well, she'd sucked cocks before -- maybe not often, but it wasn't a totally
unfamiliar exercise.

	Rick put his hand at the nape of her neck -- not forcing anything, but
indicating that he wanted her going deep and backing off by gentle pressure.
"Do you deep-throat?"

	Janine, thoroughly involved in what she was doing, backed off only
long enough to say, "No."

	"The correct answer is 'not yet,'" Rick chided, but he didn't force
her.

	A car came by -- the first since they'd started.  A young male voice
erupted, "Woo Hoo!"

	Rick waved with one hand while making sure Janine went nowhere with
the other.  "Suck.  If the cops come, you keep sucking while we talk about
you.  I won't be arrested -- and you won't, either, if I don't kick you to the
curb.  Understand?"

	"Mmph."  Janine nodded, too.  Rick took her in by the light of the
street light.  Janine wasn't bad for forty; the tits weren't defying gravity,
but they weren't hanging to her waist, and they ran to a 'C' cup, he figured.
She had love handles or saddlebags at the hips and some cellulite on her
thighs, but they weren't terrible, and while her belly, bifurcated by the scar
of a Caesarian section, displayed a little double pooch, it wasn't huge or
anything.  Her muddy brown hair displayed some reddish highlights, even in the
bun or whatever it was she kept it in.  "I'll drive," he told her, sliding a
hand along either cheek, "Undo your hair."  He didn't do anything stupid that
might overbalance her while she reached up to undo the clip and pins holding
it up.  "Yeah, that's better," he approved, sliding his fingers through it and
collecting some to hold her head by.

	Another car came by, slowing.  "Omigod!" a feminine voice erupted.
"What on Earth are you doing?"

	"Come on, lady!" Rick retorted, "You know what's going on!  If you
don't, maybe you should get out and come over here so she can give you
lessons!"

	"Is he hurting you?  I'm calling the police!"

	Rick let go of Janine's head.  "Am I hurting you?"

	Turning to where she could see the woman out of the corner of her eye,
but keeping her head down, Janine said, "Please don't bother the police -- I'm
fine.  This is... consensual."

	"Well, it's very public!" the woman retorted.  "Are you a hooker or
something?"

	"No," Rick answered for Janine, "She's a pet, actually.  Why don't you
run along, if you're not going to pay admission or something?"

	"Well, I never!"

	"Apparently not," Rick agreed.  "I bet you sleep alone."  Janine
listened to the car driving off while Rick chuckled.

	In a moment, though, Rick sighed and backed off.  "You were good,
there, but I'll never get off with all these distractions.  I've got your
card; leave that crap where it is -- no, on second thought, give your coat to
me."  He held out his hand and Janine scooped up her coat and passed it to
him.  "Get up and come on..."  Rick took Janine's hand and led her to the pad.
Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out a small device and pressed a button; the
pad began to glow.  "This is it," he told her.  "The very first thing I'm
gonna do when we get to the other end is stick my dick in your twat -- then
I'm gonna invite whoever else is there to sample the merchandise, too.  Make
up your mind..."  He waved at the pad.

	Janine shuddered, but she strode forward anyway.  Given the big
Marine's track record with threats, she was walking into a gang-bang -- but if
he was as honest about her eventual placement, it could well be worth whatever
Hell he put her through.  Besides, the way he kept manipulating her had her
wondering just what he would deliver -- and thinking of the whole thing as an
adventure.  She stopped just before the pad, "What do I do?"

	"Step on it; you'll find yourself somewhere else.  Then get out of the
way, because I'll be right behind you," Rick told her.

	Janine nodded and stepped forward -- and was elsewhere, as advertised.
It was a well-lit room with a couple of uniformed crewman standing around.
"Come forward," one of them directed.  Janine did so, then turned to watch as
the big Marine suddenly appeared on the pad.  "That's it," Rick told the
crewman, "Have the drone tractor the pad out of there and head for the barn."

	"That's it?" The crewman turned a look on Janine that said she wasn't
much.

	"Yeah.  She's a replacement.  Special request."  Rick turned to
Janine, "Go over to the wall and brace yourself against it, then bend over and
spread your legs.  That would be now!"  He followed up with a swat on her ass
that left a red mark.

	The last time Janine had been swatted on the ass had been several
decades before; bug-eyed, she gave out a squawk and danced toward the wall,
watching Rick with big eyes.  When she got there, she didn't even THINK of
disobeying Rick, but bent and braced herself and watched him get out of his
uniform pants.

	"Hey, do you HAVE to do that in my transporter room?" the crewman
complained.

	"Yeah," Rick replied, "It's an object lesson -- she needs it public.
Want a piece?"

	"Um, no -- I've got my own."  The crewman's face said whatever he had
at home looked a lot better than Janine.  "Why they don't let you jarheads
ship with a bed warmer is beyond me, given the stupid shit you do when you've
gone without for a while..."

	Rick laughed and lined up his cock with Janine's pussy.  Her nether
lips were already open exposing the opening of her fuck tunnel; seating the
tip, he pressed forward.

	"HUUUNH!"  Even juicy wet, Janine discovered the hard way that the
Marine's cock took some adapting to!  Rick held her hips and moved himself in
a rotary motion, opening her up as he pressed himself in, but it still wasn't
fast.  On the other hand, though, the sensations were incredible!

	"Don't you use this thing?" he gasped.

	"N--not lately!" Janine gasped, "F--fingers...  That's about it..."

	"No men, huh?"

	"N--no," Janine panted.  "Too much trouble."

	"That just changed."

	"Yes..."  If there were sizes to a vagina, Janine figured she'd been
bored out two by the time the Marine's balls bumped her clit.  The guy was
HUGE!  She'd sucked him but she hadn't realized...  Maybe she'd shrunk...  On
the other hand, it seemed like she could feel every bump, trace every vein
along his shaft -- wonderful!  Sex felt the way it was supposed to -- yet
seldom did...

	"I've had virgins this tight -- but they tend to... be distracted...
by the pain," Rick panted as he started to set up a slow rhythm.  "How many
kids...?"

	"Three."

	"How long...?"

	It took Janine a moment -- she was powerfully distracted -- but she
got it.  "Two years?  Two and a half?  Nobody this big -- ever!" she panted.

	"You okay?"

	"Oh, yeah!"  Janine nodded vehemently.  "F--fuck me!"

	Rick grunted out a chuckle.  "When's the last time you said that?"

	"P--probably never," Janine gasped.  "Vulgar."

	"Welcome to vulgar, Honey!"

	"Oh, GAAAWWD!  YESSSS!!!"  Janine bonked her head on the wall, having
lost control of her arms when the first shock wave hit.  "YES!  YES!  YES!
YES!!"  Control was out the window; the Marine was basically holding her up by
the hips while he pounded her like a rag doll.  Her tits swung beneath her,
jouncing and swinging and bashing into each other -- and nothing mattered but
her surrender and the big payoff the Marine was providing for it!  Janine
couldn't remember an orgasm like this one -- couldn't remember one she hadn't
fought for -- couldn't remember ever having one rush up on her without warning
and rock her, again and again!  Getting her hands back up, she crossed her
arms on the wall and rested her cheek on them and looked back at him with one
eye.  "What do I have to do to have THAT again?" she panted.

	"Wait," Rick replied shortly.  Whatever had gone on with this woman
had wasted a good piece of ass; Janine was arguably as good or better than the
black woman he'd had earlier in the day -- and THAT one had been a landmark
piece!  Doc was gonna have to wait a while to get this one!  Even bored out,
it felt like her pussy was sucking on his cock on the out-stroke, trying to
pull it back in...  Five minutes was gonna be a long fuck -- but she'd gotten
off in about one, so undoubtedly there was another out there...

	There was.  In fact, Janine knew at the outset that her second orgasm
was going to eclipse the first, good as it had been.  Maybe it was the whole
naked in public thing; maybe it was the way he controlled and manipulated her.
Maybe it was that giant plunger of his.  Maybe it was the way he seemed to be
able to pick her up like a feather and pound her like the Energizer Bunny!
Who knew?  All Janine knew was that her universe had shrunk to the walls of
her vagina, feeling his big cock pistoning in and out while his balls swung
against her clit, which felt like it was the size of a marble at this point --
and with every impact, it mapped the surface of his hairy scrotum!  She
thought she was yelling, but she couldn't hear it around the roaring in her
ears.  The ground was shaking...  The orgasm hit, and her stomach clenched as
her inner walls clutched at their welcome intruder -- and it kept coming,
powering through, stimulating even more nerves as her lining clenched around
it.  The orgasm got bigger, and she pulsed again -- and he pumped again, and
it got even bigger...  It was as if he was pumping up her pleasure!  She was
out of control; she couldn't take any more!  She started to scream, but she
couldn't breathe...

	Janine wasn't the only one on the ropes; her clutching pussy was
driving Rick almost insane!  He'd been close anyway, but when she started
wordlessly wailing and her whole twat had locked itself around his cock,
things had jumped up massively in the sensation department!  "Gonna shoot!" he
grunted through clenched teeth, working for that one last stroke...

	Janine heard him and it was the one thing in the world she wanted to
hear most!  Instinct put her into overdrive and she howled, "CUM!  GIVE ME
TWINS!"  Then he mashed himself against her and she felt it -- ALL of it!  She
felt his cock get stone hard, felt the pulse flash from the base of his cock
at the ring of her opening to the tip, which seemed to bulge with it before
the jet of undeniably powerful goo coated her cervix!  Her pussy fluttered and
it happened again!  And again!  And still a fourth time!  And a hundred foot
tidal wave broke over her and darkness fell...

	The top of Rick's head seemed to come off as he blasted the inside of
Janine's cunt that first time -- then her pussy tried to wring him dry and he
let go a second round, then a third -- and a fourth, even, before he was just
pulling the trigger on a weapon with an empty magazine!  Then suddenly, they
were both on their knees; Janine had collapsed, and Rick didn't need to see
her face to know from how boneless she was that she had fainted.  Well, she'd
earned her little nap; her pussy was STILL pulsing, triggering sympathetic
pulses in his cock -- VERY pleasant!  He waited until his cock stopped
reacting and her pussy stopped actively clutching him, then backed out and
rolled her onto her side, mildly surprised that a flood didn't result.  Rick
looked up to find the Transporter Chief, Mack Bowen, standing there, looking
down at them.  "Maybe I should have taken you up on that," he grunted.

	"Well, it's here," Rick replied.

	Janine was drifting slowly to consciousness, not yet able to move,
soaking in the aftermath of her climax; there was a conversation going on,
something she could just make out...

	"Not much to look at..." someone opined.

	"Well, she's fresh caught, after all," a more familiar voice replied.
"She's a fuck and a half, though -- surprised the shit out of me!"

	Janine felt she should say something, but her mouth wasn't working
yet.  Languidly, she moved an arm, fumbling blindly for the owner of the
voice.

	Rick caught the waving hand.  "Look who's back!" he chuckled.

	"S--surprised me, too!" Janine managed to get out.

	"Well, try to put yourself together, Honey -- you might have another
customer!" Rick chuckled.

	"No, that's all right," Chief Bowen muttered.  "Some other time,
maybe."  He stood over the pair, watching Janine try to get her eyes to track.
"You cum like that all the time, Honey?"

	"N-no," Janine replied thickly.  "If I did, I'd have been looking for
a lot more sex!"

	Chief Bowen chuckled, straightened and walked off.

	"Well, let's get you up," Rick muttered, hauling on her arm.  "Since
nobody else wants a piece, we might as well move on."  Janine struggled up,
wondering whether she was pleased or upset at the lack of interest.

	"I thought I was walking into a gang-bang," she muttered, standing on
shaky legs.

	"I didn't," Rick chuckled.  "Squids ship with a woman, usually, so
they've all got pussy in arm's reach - and they all look like contestants in a
beauty pageant.  You should be pleased that the little performance you put on
garnered some interest!"

	"I don't know what you did..."  Janine shook her head to clear it.

	"I just fucked you, Honey -- that's all.  You carried the ball all by
yourself!  I think you were looking forward to a little strange dick, though
-- and you like being muscled a little.  Well, you're gonna get more of
that...  Come on, we're headed for Medical and then my cabin; Doc Bradley
wants to break in his other piece solo, and I'm happy to oblige him."

	At Medical, Rick had Janine popped into a tube to ensure that her
fainting wasn't a sign of anything serious -- but the AI diagnosed the issue
as 'massive overload of pleasure receptors,' so he quit worrying and
instructed it to infuse the usual load of maintenance and repair nanobots, and
to concentrate on repairs to her womb and any related issues stemming from her
Caesarian sections.  "She IS fertile, right?  She isn't menopausal, or
anything..."

	"The subject is demonstrably fertile," the AI replied.

	Rick had been working with AIs for a while; he knew a joker in the
deck when he saw one.  "Demonstrably?  Elaborate."

	"The subject has conceived within the past hour."

	"Sweet..."  What would Doc Bradley think of THAT?  "Make whatever
standard adjustments necessary to allow her to gestate properly."

	"As you wish."  The AI paused for a bit -- purely an affectation
useful in communication with humans, since he operated at a totally different
rate.  "I am advised that you are not the sponsor."

	Rick grunted.  "The sponsor has authorized me temporary rights of
sponsorship and free utilization.  He'll be expecting my advice on proper
preparation and control.  I am the effective sponsor."

	"Agreed.  The caution was merely a confirmation due to the long-term
effects of the ordered changes.  Execution proceeds."

	"Thank you."  Rick tried to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.  "Do
you have any other issues?"

	The AI surprised him by responding, "The subject's psychological
makeup -- as you have previously identified -- may not be an optimal fit with
the sponsor's.  While there is no real danger inherent in the pairing, the
subject appears to function optimally in a level of conflict beyond the
sponsor's comfort level."

	"You're saying they'll fight?"

	"Or they will not, and the subject's function will be impaired
thereby."

	"Recommendations?"

	"A trade for a concubine who is more meek."

	"Great," Rick grunted.  He'd dragged the woman up from the surface;
now he was going to have to palm her off on someone in trade for a wallflower
to hand Doc Bradley.  "Any suggestions?"

	"Molly Braeden-Evans approaches optimal parameters."

	"What?"  Molly was one of Rick's concubines -- a pleasant, somewhat
stocky girl with an extremely quiet and shy personality.  "MY Molly?"

	"Correct," the AI replied.  "The solution minimizes turbulence by only
inconveniencing you.  Molly is suboptimal as a concubine for you; she is only
capable of limited self-assertion and is repelled by the violence of your
profession."  For the record, the AI was right; if Molly had a fault in Rick's
eyes, it was the fact that she was excessively squeamish and wimpy -- but...

	"She's also four months pregnant with my kid!" Rick retorted.

	The AI was unperturbed.  "At this point, the only difference between
Molly and the current subject is the elapsed gestation time."

	"Arrgh."  Rick rubbed his face.

	"Both of the current relationships operate in the functional range,"
the AI reminded him, "They are merely suboptimal.  You may leave them as they
are.  However, this may be a disservice to Doctor Bradley..."

	"Yeah," Rick grunted.  "Thanks for the heads-up."

	"You are welcome."

	Rick stood around weighing the alternatives until the tube cover
popped, then hauled Janine out of there.  "Is anything wrong?" she asked.

	"Nope, you're as healthy as a horse -- and getting healthier by the
minute," Rick grunted.  "Just stay with me and don't be a distraction."