(MFF, exhib, prostitution, Sci-Fi)
© 2008 George Page. All rights reserved.
The Swarm Cycle Universe Copyright © 2007 The Thinking Horndog
(This follows directly on from the earlier story "Stripped Out")
(Many thanks to Mulligan, Brooke, and the rest of the list for editing and reining in my urge to build castles in the sky)
I stumbled as I stepped off the transport platform and fell to my knees while my two new concubines gawked at their surroundings. I did too: this was far from the utilitarian hall I'd expected on a colony transport.
This, this was more like an airport departure lounge. A largish space, and given the view through the enormous viewing window of Earth rising over steel-grey mountains, clearly not in close Earth orbit. There were people wandering hither and to, happily going about their business oblivious to the arrival of the Confederacy's latest extractee and his harem.
"Welcome to Artemis Base." One of Lieutenant Dunlain's marines was waiting for us and held her hand out to help me up.
"Not a colony transport, I gather?"
"Indeed not," Dunlain said from behind me as he came through the transit gate. "Artemis Base is the primary near-side facility on the moon, and co-ordinates transit and logistics for all Confederacy Military activities in the inner solar system."
Interesting. There'd been no hint of anything on this scale. "I knew they'd set up some lunar facilities," I said. "But, somehow, I'd never imagined anything quite like this." The viewing window extended all the way around the gallery, and there was no sign of anything else on the surface.
"As you say, Lieutenant." He handed me a PDA like the one he - and many of the others around, I saw with a quick glance - was wearing. "Here's your AI link until we get you through medical. Unfortunately, we're in more of a rush than I thought, so Davis here will escort your concubines to your quarters, while I accompany you to the Major's office. This way, please"
That was efficient enough. I told my women to be good, and followed him. "Where's Ange- I mean Askew?" I asked as we left the concourse.
He cocked his head slightly, obviously consulting the AI. "Commander Askew was met by someone from the medical staff. She'll be billeted with them for the meantime, apparently."
Right. Not near me, then. Ah well. "Commander? Do we have time for quick rundown on the rank structure? It's not the same as the US Marines, I take it."
"It was, but they're trying to unify it. Officially, it's a mix of the old ground and naval titles, but there's some resistance, especially among the senior officers. One special case: Captain's been removed from the ToO, and is now used only for the commander of a spacecraft."
"Most of Artemis Base is approximately a hundred Kilometres below the surface," he went on quickly, calling up a small holographic projection out of his PDA as we entered a lift.
The base was a rough cube hewn from the moon's bedrock. It featured a large central cavern that was surrounded on all sides by warrens extending out into the rock. A narrow tube extended up to the surface for this dome, and two others out of sight through the windows.
"This observation dome, Marine Surface training area, Navy small craft hangers and EVA," Dunlain said, pointing. "Main Accommodation here at the centre, but there are barracks at both of the military facilities. Offices, Stores, Plant," he continued pointing to each as the image zoomed in. "Overall, there are about five thousand people on the base, concubines included."
"Why the large central cavern?" I asked. "I would have thought that that would be a structural weak point."
"Technically, it is, but we're so deep here that with the nanotech providing structural support, there's no real concern. Anyway, the psych-types insisted. They claimed that we would become vulnerable to various psychoses in enclosed spaces. Cabin fever, that sort of thing."
"'Windows' with high quality screens don't work?"
"They say not. They don't fool the subconscious, apparently. Hence the cavern, and the dome. Not that there aren't enough people here. Artemis serves as the main hub for the Earth/Moon system, and we're building the system-wide hubs at the Jovian Trojans"
Taking a punt, I guessed, "Sensor platforms on far-side for the cis-lunar region, more at oh, L3, or seeded through the belt to cover that side of the system?"
That earned another startled glance and he punched up a projection of the inner solar system: The schematics indicated several clusters of sensors - or possibly stations, I couldn't tell - scattered around the asteroid belt. There were indications of more activity out there, and a fair collection of icons around Mars, but he didn't leave the projection up long enough for me to make any sense of it.
"A guess," I assured him. "It's the logical place. Established orbits, resources close to hand. At least, that's how I always set it up in the game. Was that Ceres there with all those tags?"
He shut down the hologram as the lift doors opened and we went out to a broad corridor. Immediately opposite the list, there was a large portal emblazoned with a starburst and the motto In Astra, Veritas.
"In the stars, Truth".
As if at the command, the doors shushed open - the sound was just different enough from my expectations to be amusing - and a uniformed woman bounced on her toes. "Thank you, Left-enant," she said crisply and Dunlain nodded to both of us, and wordlessly stepped back toward the lift. He departed quickly, but I just managed to catch his eye and sketch a brief salute.
"Welcome to the Joint Intelligence Service" the woman said as I turned back.
She was about 5'6" - 168cm, give or take - and wore her blond hair in a straight fall down to the middle of her back. A plain uniform, with only a nametape - "Saldana, I" - and a shoulder patch with the same blazon as the door.
I smiled as I recognized the name and bowed. Someone obviously had a taste in reading similar to my own. "My Lady of Ruin," I murmured.
Probably not her, I decided given her puzzled look. "The Major is ready to see you now, Left-enant."
The Major was about what I would have expected for an "intelligence weenie" in the Confederacy. Medium everything - height, hair length and shade of brown. Looking at him, I realized that I'd seen several other people on the concourse with the same general body template.
"Charles Brown, JIS", he said as he came around the desk. "Coffee if you would, Julia, please. White and three for Lieutenant Williams."
One thing about a facility the size of Artemis Base, space isn't necessarily at a premium, and Brown's office was large enough to have a small "conversation corner" with a couple of chairs and a coffee table.
Sitting there at his wave, I raised an eyebrow and he chuckled. "We've had our eye on you for some time, Mister Williams."
"But contrary to appearances, I have not been leading two lives. Nor do I help my landlady take out her garbage."
He laughed out loud. "I can see we're going to work well together, Lieutenant. Our shared taste in entertainment was one of the reasons you ended up here."
"I see," I said and nodded toward Julia as she returned with the beverages. "One of your Concubines, I presume?"
He nodded. "And a small test, which you passed. Poor girl never did much reading before I picked her up. That's changing, thank god, but she's not quite up to Night's Dawn, yet."
"The JIS," he went on more seriously, "is an umbrella organization operating at a level above Fleet and Marine Intelligence. Basically, we collate and analyze all of the data they produce, do the same for the major Earth-bound Agencies, and see if we can see anything that they, with their narrower viewpoints, have missed."
"The AIs don't handle that?"
"Not as well as we'd hoped. It turned out that they had their own preconceptions and blind spots, which ended up hurting a fair number of the extraction teams. Basically, they didn't understand us well enough. And with the Navy and Marines starting to focus more of their attention toward the war effort, their gaps are starting to widen as well.
"We'd earmarked you for JIS pretty much since we started, but had to move your extraction up suddenly because Commander Lewis has been reassigned back to active Fleet much sooner than we expected."
"So I'll be playing catch-up until - he? - leaves and then what? Reading and annotating reports?"
"Pretty much. There's some scope for following down information that catches your eye, but most of it's going to be reconciling incompatible report formats and applying your working knowledge of local conditions."
"And the fact that I'm a New Zealander means what, that I've got a better grasp of the world in general than your average American?"
"Something like that." He waved his hand over a control on his chair and a wall display sprang to life. "Here's the organisational table for the JIS. We're small, and top heavy with Officers, but most of us move in and out between regular assignments. The Admiral is out at Prometheus, but he also wears the NavInt cap as well. I'm top here in Earthat, there's another Commander as well as Lewis and two more Lieutenants, but all three of them will be rotating out over the next few months. In fact, other than myself, you're the only other officer permanently assigned here."
"Why so top heavy?"
"There are better uses for non-coms, in everyone else's opinion. One thing we're trying, is to eke out our resources by using our concubines in the place of enlisted men."
"Ah?"
"No problems so far, but you're the first CAP6 we've had, so it's going to be interesting to see if you can make it work with only two."
"I've barely met them myself, Sir. So we're not heading straight out to a colony, then?"
"Nope. Oh, I expect it'll happen eventually, and we're not staying any longer than the fleet when the dickheads finally do get here, but for the moment, expect to stay. There are some perks that come with that, though.
"In any case," he said as he finished his coffee and stood. "I figured I'd let you have a brief overview before you settled in. We'll give you a proper briefing tomorrow, but I'll get everyone together this evening for an informal dining in. I'll ping your PDA when I get the details sorted, but it won't be before 1900. That gives you twelve hours or so to get your ladies sorted and take a look around. Get the machine in your quarters to spin you a set of uniforms, too. One of the downsides is that we are a low priority for Med, and the way things are on the surface at the moment, Med needs the space."
Saluting at the obvious dismissal, I led him out of the office, and just managed to hear him as the doors slid closed: "Julia, you've got two days to find out what the Lieutenant was referring to."
***
Home.
Home, for the time being, turned out to be most of the way across the base from the JIS offices. An anonymous looking door opened out into a surprisingly spacious apartment that would probably have set me back half a million dollars back in Wellington, and that was without the view across the central cavern.
"Lieutenant Williams?" asked the young woman who met me at the door. She was in a plain grey uniform with rank insignia that I didn't recognize.
"I'm Sub-Decurion Samantha Gold, with the Civil Service. I've been assigned to assist with the orientation of yourself and your companions to life in the Confederacy in general and in Artemis Base in particular."
Leading my through the apartment, she continued: "I've just been making sure your companions understand their position in Confederacy society, and showing them around the local neighbourhood."
"Any problems?"
"No more than you'd expect, given the nature of your pickup. No dependants to pick up, no critical medical problems, although we won't know for sure until we get them through the base hospital"
"The Major mentioned that we're low priority for medical; is there a schedule for getting their cosmetic work done? For Hannah, particularly, it was implicit in my selecting her."
"We'll see. Her age will help."
By this point we'd wandered through to the lounge area, where my … companions, as she'd put it, were waiting. The Sub-Decurion gave all three of us what she called the standard briefing, and then fleshed it out with rules that were peculiar to the station and, in a couple of cases, the JIS.
There was nothing outrageous in either - the standard briefing had been covered pretty well in the "entertainment" shows running back on Earth. The "local" rules were mere extensions to make the semi-permanent nature of Artemis Base liveable in the long term - although I was glad that she was the one who got to explain the probable delay in getting any cosmetic changes done. We were soon discussing some of the "jobs" available for concubines while their sponsor was at work.
"Could I take a moment with Hannah" I asked as an idea occurred. Leading the older woman over to the kitchen area, I ask quietly "Did you ever manage the upstairs at the Mermaid?"
"The Splash Club? No. Oh, I sat reception a time or two, why?"
"Could you have? Managed it, I mean? Would it be too different from managing the strip club?"
She looked at me, startled, and then straightened, visibly pulling her dignity together. "You want to pass me off, then?"
The other two looked up at us with the sudden spike in tension, but I waved them off. "No, I'm keeping you. Get you that rejuv, and then put you to work." I reassured her quietly. "No, what I was thinking was that the Civil Service brothels are probably run by uptight do-gooders like Ms Gold over there. You on the other hand have some experience of herding strippers. I figure you've had to baby newcomers, nurse girls past bad customers, and defuse catfights. Do you think you could do a better job than her at managing a bunch of despondent rejects thrown together and told to provide sex for whoever comes along?"
Hannah had relaxed as I spoke and nodded firmly when I finished. "Do you think she'll buy it?" she asked.
I snorted. "Look at her. She's what, twenty-two? At a guess, a mid-range sponsor who picked the Civil Service because of her ethical objections to killing and now she's killing herself with concern over the fate of all the unwanted concubines. Look at the worry lines."
She nodded and we wandered back to the others. "Who's running the local Civil Service brothels?" I asked up front.
Sub-Decurion Gold seemed surprised at the question, but started counting off on her fingers: "The Navy and Marines each have one that they manage themselves, although the Tribune keeps an eye on things. They're mostly for the concubines of casualties, although the Navy one does see more "randoms"- women cast off at the end of a long deployment and swapped for someone new. The Civil Service has three facilities scattered round the base, but only ones what you'd really call a brothel. The others are a Maternity dorm and a dorm for unattached concubines with small children. The Decurions are supposed to manage them, but given the overall workload, they've passed them down. For my sins, I oversee the brothel, which is over near the Plant in Sector IV."
"About what I expected. You know I picked these two up out of a strip club, yes?" She made a moue of distasteful agreement. "Hannah used to manage the girls, and she tells me that she could stretch that to running a brothel - how big is the one you look after?"
"There's bunk space for fifty, and I've got a couple of pods' worth of space subdivided into a dozen rooms, for the, ah, business. " She suddenly looked pleadingly at the older woman. "Could you run it? I try, but they don't listen to me, and they -"
I stopped her as she suddenly looked the age her cosmetic sculpting masked, and my earlier estimate looked to be about three years too high. "We've got to take a look at it first, and, from what you said, your Decurion has to approve, yes? What say we meet some time this afternoon, at one of the brothels?" I pulled out my PDA to look at my schedule. "I've got a JIS meeting at 1900…"
She was one step ahead of me. "AI," she called to the room, "Display schedule overlap, Decurion Phillips, Lieutenant Williams and Sub-Decurion Gold"
An image formed in the air showing a blank date book page that was quickly overlain with three sets of appointments. There were two obvious gaps, and I immediately picked the later of the two. Gold blocked out both sets and said she'd talk to her Decurion first and let me know if he squashed the idea.
As I walked her to the door, I asked her gently how old she was. When she confirmed my reassessment, I smiled wider. And told her not to worry: it was time to give old age and treachery a chance.
***
Returning to my concubines, I sat down in the large armchair and looked them over.
They were still dressed as they had been at the Mermaid Bar: Vicky was topless, but still in her jeans while Hannah was still fully dressed in an evening gown. Time to do something about that, I decided.
"You both understand your position here?" I asked. "Good," I said when they both nodded. "Strip."
Vicki very quickly popped her jeans and started to peel then down her legs, but Hannah stopped her with a hand on the shoulder. "AI," she asked tentatively, looking at the ceiling "Could we have some music, please?"
Silence.
"AI," I offered. "Is there a common basic level of access typically granted to concubines with respect to entertainment?"
"There is."
"Please grant it to the two concubines present. Are you able to access the music server of the establishment where I was picked up?"
"I am. Legal Agreements prevent the copying of any of its content, however."
I rolled my eyes. "Please display an interactive menu of what music you do have available for Hannah to choose from. Break. Vicki, go see if you can work the replicator and get me my usual. AI, please allow my concubines the common level of access to the replicators for food and drink."
"Confirmed."
"Thank you. While Hannah's choosing her play list, please display for me the list of command access options, sorted by those typically granted to concubines."
I spent a couple of minutes flipping through the holographic display, granting the two women what I saw as common sense access, before Vicki wandered over with my drink.
"Black Sambucca on ice," she announced, breasts swaying as she bent over to place it on the low table beside me. "Not branded - I hit the 'Legal Agreements' line if I asked for a specific brand, but it tastes okay".
I took a sip - she was right, it wasn't either of the two brands I was familiar with - and waved my display away. "You ready yet, Hannah?"
"Yes, sir. Could I speak to Vicki briefly?"
The two of them went into a huddle, and then split up as the music started.
Hannah began with a slow paced routine that allowed her to undo the gown in measured stages. I sent a quick murmur to the AI and the lights dimmed, the windows out into the cavern darkened and a soft spotlight highlighted her.
It was a much classier performance that I was used to seeing at the Mermaid, and by the time she'd got rid of the gown completely, I was regretting my own jeans.
She was the age she was, however, and gravity took its toll as soon as the garment's support was removed. Bending away from me she pulled her panties down straight legs, and then turned back to remove her garter belt and used the main coffee table as support to slowly roll her stockings down each leg.
I applauded silently and patted the arm of the chair as she finished and Vicki took her place.
Already topless, the younger woman started up close as she stripped out her belt, popped the button and ever-so-slowly lowered the zipper. Like Hannah, she turned away to peel the tight denim over her deliciously tight looking ass, revealing an absolutely tiny thong.
Stepping back to the table, she sat on the very edge and leaned forward with a jiggle while she pushed the jeans down and off.
She then struck a few poses obviously copied from the dancers at the strip club and sauntered back over to the chair to dangle her breasts right in my face.
Accepting the offer, I took one of the firm globes in each hand and hefted them gently until she moved back and similarly offered her backside.
I smiled and took one side of the thong's waist strap and waved Hannah to take the other, and between us we slid it over her rump and let it fall to the floor.
"Nicely done," I said as she settled herself on the other chair arm. "So, some preliminaries. I'm Benjamin Williams, but you can call me Ben. I'm 32, an Aries, and I was a web developer, but now it looks like I'm going to be a paper pusher for the intelligence types."
"Hannah Clarke, part time book-keeper and hostess, well, you know where I worked. I'm 42 years old. Soon to be brothel manager. Some step up in the world."
"Victoria Elizabeth Diana Burrows, I'm twenty-two. I've got a bar manager's license. I've done a little bit of stripping, but mostly worked the bar to pay for University. I could regale you with the evils of the pre-feminist patriarchal oppression the Darjee have instituted to support their failure to achieve a constructive post-gendered dialog with the peaceful Sa'arm collective, but last year I changed my degree track. I'm now doing second year Math and Physics."
"Women's Studies, here in Wellington? And now you're doing Math/Phys? That sounds like a story?"
"Do you want it now?" she asked, dropping her hand into my lap. "Or do you want it now?"
I pushed up out of the chair and offered them each a hand. "Good point. I was Math/Phys myself, so I might end up using you with the JIS. Meanwhile why don't we adjourn to the bedroom? I don't believe I tried either of you out before we came up here."
***
A pleasant several hours later, I led Hannah through the "residential" area of the station toward what was unimaginatively called the "Sector IV Civil Service Brothel".
As expected, it was another plain grey door in a plain grey hallway with the name stencilled on it. "Yeesh," I muttered as it opened.
The inside was as sullen as I imagine only a women's prison for violent offenders could be. Thirty women sat around a room little larger than the lounge in my new apartment, most of them wearing the shapeless grey shift that seemed to be standard Civil Service issue. A few wore something more, and a couple - the least sullen looking - were either topless, or completely nude.
I restrained an awestruck whistle as the general level of "beauty" became apparent. Every single one of them would have qualified as fashion model/porn star stunning, for all that they covered wide gamut of individual appearances. There were Asians - Westernised Asians, at least. - African Americans, Afro-Caribbeans and a full assortment of Caucasians, from slender yet busty Nordics through fiery red-heads to the proverbial corn-fed blonde milkmaids. The only pattern that really stood out was that the average bust size here was probably two to three cup sizes larger than the general population back home.
They'd seen us enter, of course, and while most of them watched us, only a couple did so with anything like interest. Two of them wondered idly to each other whether I as dumping an old hag, or whether Hannah was looking for a playmate for her toy-boy. A third offered the opinion that it didn't matter, because I'd be the one fucking one of them either way.
Given that Hannah was back in her gown and I'd had a uniform - with proper insignia - fabricated, it should have been obvious, but oh well.
The two Civil Service offers weren't in evidence so I led Hannah around the room, looking idly at some of the women, but mostly commenting critically to Hannah about the décor. Or lack thereof.
We'd taken a good look at the common room, and a small kitchen/replicator area off to the side when Sub-Decurion Gold and another officer entered the room.
Immediately, attention focused on them, and one of the women who'd affected a bored nonchalance immediately stood and stalked over to them.
"Look, Sammie, just because you can't do your job and keep these bitches under control, don't blame me when I decide to do it for you." She said belligerently, right in Gold's face.
The officer with Gold sighed. "Samantha, I've told you before. AI, identify." Nothing obvious appeared, but there was a faint haze in front of the man's eyes. "Thank you. Transfer her to the Marine Docks facility, specify the severe regime. No, send security."
The haze cleared and he saw us. "Lieutenant Williams, I presume," he said, completely ignoring the stunned looking woman who'd accosted Gold. "Samantha has told me about your idea, and I'm inclined to approve. Hannah, is it? How would you have handled that?"
Hannah looked at me, and I waved her on. "I wouldn't have let it get that far out of hand," she said bluntly. "I take it she assaulted another concubine? She would have been out of anywhere that I run as soon as it happened."
"Good." He nodded. "I'm Decurion James Phillips, why don't we go somewhere and discuss the details."
***
"Somewhere" ended up being the Civil Service headquarters a quarter of the way back around the base. "You're new here, aren't you?" Phillips said, and immediately started a running commentary on what we could see, and/or what we passed. Sub-Decurion Gold followed along meekly, a hangdog expression on her face. I felt for her, she'd been thrown in at the deep end of a job that needed someone a lot more callous than someone who wasn't constitutionally suited to fight. And then to have it rubbed in her face in front of "her" brothel full of women, as well as the mere Concubine who was probably going to replace her… Ouch!
Ironically, we ended up rather close to the JIS offices.
The difference between the two was… interesting. JIS was well appointed, and looked like any corporate office, a prosperous law firm, perhaps. The Civil Service wasn't: Oh, it looked like they had much the same basic floor plan and accessories, but there was much more of a harried air about the place, the feeling of too much work needing doing by too few people. The desks I glimpsed through open doors on the way to the boardroom were cluttered data cubes, PDAs and - almost to my surprise - paper files.
"For the record," Phillips started off as we sat around one end of the table "you propose that the Civil Service effectively 'hire' your concubine to manage one of the Civil Service facilities for unassigned concubines."
He waved me silent as I started to agree. "In support of this, you submit that your concubine has previous experience managing similar facilities in the earth-based sexual services industry. Further, you are not releasing your concubine to the Civil Service, and there has been no discussion of recompense for the Civil Service's use of your concubine. Do you agree that this accurately summarises our discussions to date?"
"I do, with the addition that I have received indications from both of the Civil Service officers with whom I have spoken that said offer was favourably looked upon."
"So noted, and accepted. AI, please confirm these statements."
"Confirmed." Damn, there was something familiar about the sonorous tone the AI was using. What was it?
"Thank you. Sorry about that, Lieutenant. We've been coming under some scrutiny because we've operated a little bit fast and loose. The Tribune wants us to be formalising things as much as possible."
"No problem. From the differences between here and the JIS offices, it looks like you run on something of a shoestring."
"That we do". He took a breath. "Right, you saw the shambles that Samantha's had to deal with at Sector IV - I can assure you that it's little different at the Marine and Navy brothels. The Maternity Dorms are generally calmer, and we try to shuffle women with children off to the colonies. It's just these able bodied women who are the problem. The AIs and the Darjee say we should space them. Simple humanity stops us from doing that, but Policy says we can't return them to Earth."
"What I want your Hannah to do is take over the running of the Civil Service brothel in Sector IV. We can't simply hand it over to you, let alone to a concubine, so Sam, here, will still be 'officially' running things, but she'll say out of Hannah's way."
"Sounds good to me," I said. Among other things Hannah and I had discussed what she wanted to know before taking on the job. "But what authority will Hannah have? Discipline, rewards, etc. For instance, what is the 'severe regime' you handed out earlier?"
"'Severe' is one of the potted scenarios we've put together for the troublemakers. Basically, she is being sent down to the Marine brothel, where she's in the unenviable position of not being the concubine of one of their dead buddies, so she'll tend to cop the abuse they decline of hand out to 'more respectable' women. Additionally, the AIs place her on a bare minimum diet, which pretty much means that she's got to cadge food from other concubines or Marines. It's harsh, but generally they manage to modify their behaviour sufficiently to either get one of the marines to select them for his household, or convince us to give them another chance."
"But some don't" I guessed and he shrugged sadly.
"Some don't. We don't use it a lot, but I'd still like to use it less. Okay. Officially, your Hannah will be exercising Sam's authority, by proxy. In effect, full Civil Service authority over the other concubines, limited to the inside of the brothel. For anything that has an effect outside of the brothel - like a transfer - the AI will require Sam's or my agreement."
I let Phillips and Hannah discus various details of brothel operation. After probing Sub-Decurion Gold for some additional details of the rules and conventions of Confederacy Service, questions that had occurred to me since the initial briefing earlier in the day I took my leave and headed home to pick up Vicki for the JIS dinner.
***
The invitation had specified "and Assistant" so I had the younger of my two concubines dress in an unadorned grey uniform similar to what Major Brown's "assistant" had worn. Together, we walked to the JIS offices - I was certainly getting my exercise in, this was the roughly the fourth time I'd come here today - while I filled her in developments with Hannah.
"So what do you get out of it?" she asked.
"I figure I'll get paid back in trade. When I left, Hannah was expecting to spend most of her time on site, so I almost end up a concubine short."
"Uh huh."
I'd picked her outfit almost right. The Major had brought "Julia" with him, dressed as she had been, but the concubines accompanying the other officers were wearing skirts and blouses, except for the one male who was in dark slacks and a beige shirt.
The other officers were like in uniform, but it wasn't exactly the most uniform of uniforms, even accounting for the joint Service nature of the JIS. Frankly they looked like the cast an old ensemble TV drama starting to wind down after the usual desperate-yet-successfully-resolved crisis. You could pick out the stereotypes: the Major was obviously the wise-yet-approachable mentor, the woman Marine Lieutenant was the very picture of 'tough yet feminine', while the other lieutenant was obviously the joker in the deck.
To make matters worse, they'd all been through the medical machines and looked like an excessively attractive ensemble cast. My Vicki might have fitted in, but I was left feeling like the dumpy ugly guy who's either the obvious villain or this week's celebrity guest star. The fact that I knew from the Major's earlier comments that they all had CAP scores over 7 didn't help.
The Major looked up as I walked over and waved off my incipient salute. "Informal, I said, Lieutenant. Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Lieutenant Benjamin Williams and his concubine Vicki. He'll be taking over from Harry when he ships out. Williams, these are Commander Harry Lewis, Commander James Dixon, Lieutenant Beth Freitag and Lieutenant Kingsford Maher. Their senior concubines are Stephanie, Rachel, Bill and Sarah, respectively. You've met Julia before, of course."
I nodded at each in turn, including the concubines. "Thank you, Sir. Commanders, Lieutenants, Vicki will be my main assistant. I've, uh, made other arrangements for my other concubine, Hannah."
"So we've heard," the Major said as he handed me a drink. Bourbon on ice. Meh, not my first choice, but I'd drink it. "You've had a busy afternoon, apart from the obvious."
"Yes, Sir." Everyone seemed welcoming enough, and Maher was openly grinning, but still... "I don't intend to be involved with her other role at all. Any assistance she needs, she will get through the Civil Service."
"Apart from the benefits, of course." the Major said, waving the disclaimer away.
Another uniformed concubine appeared at the doorway back beyond the Major's office. "Right on time", the major announced, and led us through to the office boardroom, which had been converted into a dining room for the evening.
"Steak or fish?"