Chapter 1

Things had changed, but people on Earth needed the familiar, so even while some institutions crumbled and fell away, others remained to give people something to cling to. The Clark County Fair has been going on every July for the past hundred and fifty years, and it was going on today, nearly two and a half years after the announcement that aliens were coming to destroy the world. There were a lot of people on Earth who weren't going to be able to do much about it -- and EVERYBODY needed a little time away from the harsh realities of the situation. The 4-H club kids were there with their animals and plants for the livestock show and the various other competitions, the handicrafters and the cooks and the farmers were all there looking for prizes or markets for their various wares in the exposition barns and -- perhaps most important -- the carnival midway was in full swing with its rides and shills and 'games of chance' and other entertainments. The throngs were everywhere from the riding rings to the restrooms -- where at least one odd phenomenon was going on: Apparently, the end porta-potty was ALWAYS occupied, and people came out regularly -- but no one in line ever saw anyone go in...

The changes were there for all to see, but they were becoming the norm, allowing people to ignore them, usually -- and in some cases, they were just extensions of phenomena that had been in place for some time... Something about the fair had always led women to make questionable fashion choices -- whether it was the heat or just a certain feeling of freedom wasn't certain, but there it was -- and this year, pressures generated by the urgent need to be desirable to a selectee for the Confederacy's Defense Forces on a moment's notice had driven just about everyone to serious extremes. Standards that two years before would have been considered 'decent' were by the wayside; teenage girls, in particular, wore almost nothing. Somewhere, somehow, a consensus had formed in the fashion world that going bottomless was unsanitary -- and that was the only limit; the uniform of the day for teenage girls was a bikini bottom or micro-mini skirt (usually a jean skirt) and flip-flops, and an over-the shoulder handbag that tended to be heavy, but contained whatever the wearer figured she just HAD to have to survive if she wandered into a pickup... Even THAT 'standard' was breached, here and there, by girls who wanted to be cutting-edge; that minority ditched the panty or the skirt (if there was a skirt, it was likely that there was no panty beneath -- that was the compromise of the pseudo-brave) and wandered the midway and the paths in nothing but flip-flops and a purse -- and perhaps some body paint, something that was enjoying ROARING sales...

Older women tended to go with the minimum that presented them well -- or what they thought did, anyway. Some could -- and did -- compete on an even footing with their younger counterparts -- and a fair number who really shouldn't have tried duplicated the effort...

Did it lead to some kind of licentious bedlam? No. When one or two or five women do something like this, it's an irresistible lure; when a couple of thousand do, it is sensory overload. Things had been drifting in this direction for two years -- plenty of time for everyone to get over the whole thing. Oh, it was nice -- a veritable wonderland of exposed flesh -- but it wasn't abnormal in any way any more, so everyone tended to ignore it -- even the males ignored it while enjoying it.

It wasn't a 'look, but don't touch,' situation, either; that wall had come down, too. No still meant no -- and if anything, penalties for crossing the line to rape were more viciously enforced. But the universal availability of nanobot birth control and cures for most sexually-transmitted diseases, coupled with a need to become sexually sophisticated that extended down to the age of fourteen brought the availability of sex to the average guy up to a level where it had probably never been before. Male sexual advertising was the newest fad; the codpiece was back in style, among other things. But a CAP card with a score above six point five on it made you a preferred mate no matter WHAT you looked like; guys who had never been able to compete before suddenly found themselves very much in demand...

Women were getting used to having casual samplings made of their various charms; a pat on the ass or a squeeze of a breast in the workplace that would have gotten a guy fired just a couple of years before for sexual harassment was now confirmation to a woman that, yes, she WAS desirable; instead of freaking out, the majority now treated casual touching by a male as a compliment. Of course, there were women out there that didn't want it -- and you could pick them out of a crowd pretty easily by the way they dressed. With the vast majority headed the other direction, they pretty much got their wish...

When the ability to have sex in public becomes a survival trait, it's going to happen. The planning committee for this year's fair actually set aside areas where they hoped to keep it contained -- but just like indecent exposure, prohibitions against 'public displays of affection' were by the wayside. Couples were fucking on the Ferris wheel -- regularly. In fact, the carnival had gone to some expense to redesign the seats with padding and altered restraints so that couples could enjoy sexual activity on the ride in safety and comfort -- and the modifications had paid for themselves handsomely after VERY little advertisement. The freedom to bring one of their most powerful weapons to bear in public gave women certain advantages, too. Boyfriend says no to buying the big teddy bear? No problem -- after you've knelt up right there on the midway and fished his cock out of his pants and sucked on it a bit, looking up at him with big, soulful eyes, his resolve will no doubt crack... So what if you get looks from old grandmas who grew up in the Stone Age when you had to cover up everything from head to foot -- it's good advertising. If boyfriend turns out to be not sufficiently malleable, somebody who IS will probably drift over to watch enviously... The tools and thought process had been around forever, but free play had been clamped down on pretty hard for quite a while; now it was 'weapons free' for sexual wiles...

Looks counted for a lot, as usual -- but it had been pounded into the collective consciousness that looks were NOT a selection criterion for the CDF and that if you managed to make the trip, your looks could be altered radically. For those who couldn't really afford to expose themselves too radically, T-shirts with 'I'm performance-oriented!' prominently displayed were all the rage... 'So what if Sugar Daddy is sixty? If he doesn't have a heart attack before he's picked up, he'll be twenty-five and hunky...' 'Yeah, Edna weighs two-seventy-five and has tits that hang like gunnysacks to her waist -- but she can suck the chrome off a trailer hitch and fucks like a carnival ride! I'll shrink her and her jugs down to something more pleasant to look at when the time comes -- in the meantime, I'm being well taken care of...' More and more of this type of thought process was appearing... and it was a good thing for those involved, in most cases.

Moving a whole company of Marines into the area was a bear, more or less; Marines had a standard augmentation package that made them two meters tall, for one thing -- which was ESPECIALLY prominent in females. Hot looking babes that stood six feet seven just weren't normal. But even infusing guys that height into the population wasn't going to work perfectly...

"Hey, Buddy!"

Lance Corporal Eduardo Colon gazed down in surprise at the pint of peanuts tugging on his arm. "Yeah?"

"Come here a minute, willya?" The girl started dragging him off to an area between two booths. Ed thought about resisting, but it would make a scene... Looking around, he noticed a heavier, Hispanic-looking girl following them. Glancing at his watch, he noted that he had twenty minutes to get into position, anyway...

Once between the booths, the girl stopped tugging and stood there, fists on hips, her stare underlined by the fine pair of conical titties standing out from her chest. "Okay, so what's going on?"

Ed glanced around -- nobody but the other girl seemed to be following the conversation. "Excuse me?"

"Look, Dude, any monkey can tell you're a Marine -- you stand out like a sore thumb!" the girl announced. "Something is up -- wanna tell me about it?"

'Shit!' "I don't know what you're talking about," Ed bluffed.

"Yeah, right! Even if you weren't fourteen feet tall, the way you walk watching everything at once would give you away!" the girl insisted. "Quit jerking me around and maybe I can help!"

"Yeah? Like how?" Ed demanded.

"Protective coloration," the girl replied, eyeing him narrowly. "Camouflage, I think it's called. You need someone else with you so you don't scream what you are just by being here..."

"The female is correct," sounded in his ear. "Perhaps you can enlist her aid without exposing anything."

"I'm on vacation," Ed grunted.

"Liar!" The girl stomped a flip-flop shod foot, throwing up a puff of dust.

Behind Ed, the other girl muttered, "Maybe we shouldn't..."

"Quiet, Mindy -- I know what I'm doing." The girl's eyes hadn't left his. "If you want, I can go out there and start yelling 'Marine!' and pointing and see what happens..."

Ed could kill her where she stood -- and he MIGHT get the other one before SHE could move, too -- but it wasn't even CLOSE to the mission parameters. "You'd just make things a lot harder on a whole bunch of people," he replied reasonably.

"I figured. Are you gonna get some people here, then?"

"How old are you, Honey?"

"Old enough." The eyes never left his.

"The highest probability assessment of her motivations indicates that she will assist you if you provide her with access to the extraction," the AI intoned.

"No shit," Ed muttered under his breath. "All right, Honey -- suppose you prove that."

The girl dug in her purse -- a big shoulder bag, the wide strap of which crossed from her left shoulder between her pert breasts to her right hip. "Here," she muttered, producing a CAP card.

Somehow, the six point one on it wasn't surprising at all. The age was, though -- the tiny thing was fifteen! "What about her?" Ed asked, jerking his thumb over his shoulder to indicate the other girl.

"Fish it out, Mindy."

The heavy girl circled around front and handed him her card, gazing at him solemnly. That SHE was fifteen wasn't that much of a surprise, although she was carrying a good bit of baby fat and her legs still had that undefined, childlike look. That the other girl was running things was also not surprising; Mindy had a three point seven -- and a LOT of sheep in her. The other girl was obviously the sheepdog... "Okay, I guess I can deal with you directly, and not your momma," Ed grunted. "Is she here?"

The girl shrugged. "Somewhere. Let's not get into that. You were going to tell me what's going on." She was staring him down again...

"Maybe I was trying to decide whether to stun you and leave you here!" Ed retorted.

The girl's age finally showed as her nerve began to crack. "Come on!" she cajoled. "Am I that bad?"

"Well, no..." Ed shook his head. She was a kid -- except behind those eyes. Fucking her would make him feel like a child-molester. "But you're not my type."

"What about her?" the girl's eyes flicked to her girlfriend. "Show him how good you give head, Mindy."

The chunky girl glanced at her, glanced at him, glanced back at her, and moved to kneel before Ed. "That isn't necessary," Ed got out before something stupid happened. "I don't have time for it."

"What DO you have time for?" the girl asked, back in the saddle.

"Not much." Ed sighed. "Okay, yes, we're doing a pickup here -- a BIG one. You really don't need my help, if you want to go..."

"You need ours, though," the girl replied. "I'm just the first person to see what's going on -- there will be a bunch more before you get where you're going," she cocked her head, "which is?"

"I'm heading for the horse show ring," Ed supplied. "It might not be a prime location for you." He eyed her. "You might want to go to the amphitheater."

The girl cocked her head. "What if I stay with you?"

"You'll probably be all right," Ed admitted.

"Good." The girl nodded and fished two rubber bands from her purse, making a pair of dog-ear pony-tails in her hair in short order. "Carry me -- let me ride on your hip. Mindy, you stick with us. Hold his hand, if you can."

Ed blinked. "And this helps -- how?"

The girl grimaced. "I look even younger than I am, right? Well, you're Daddy, now... Your height won't be so obvious with me hanging off you -- and Mindy will help..."

"The female's grasp of the situation is admirable," the AI intoned.

"Okay." Ed held out an arm and the girl jumped up to settle with her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms around his neck. She wasn't heavy. Turning to her girlfriend, she directed, "Mindy, take, uh..." she glanced at Ed.

"Ed."

"Take Ed's hand and pretend he's your step-dad. It's a step up for you, anyway..."

Ed didn't get into that; Mindy thudded up, her walk still childish, and grabbed Ed's right hand, and they moved back out into traffic. "What's YOUR name?" he asked his burden.

"Lisa," came the reply. "How many women do YOU have, Ed?"

"Quiet." Shifting to sub-vocalization, Ed muttered, "Tell Sarge -- he's probably gonna..."

"Sergeant Holden and your squad mates have been advised. The Sergeant commends you on your intelligent handling of the situation. You still have sixteen minutes to assume your station." Ed grinned. Sarge had probably said something on the order of, "Congrats! You didn't TOTALLY stick your dick in it..."

"Ed, slow down! You're marching!" Lisa hissed. "Look at the stands and stuff, okay? Jeezus! Don't drag Mindy's arm off!"

"The female is again correct," the AI advised. "You have more than adequate time and need to appear casual." Ed slowed down, rolling his eyes, turning his attention to a booth where prizes were to be won by throwing darts. The AI murmured, "The darts have been rendered unbalanced, of course."

"Of course," Ed whispered back.

"You didn't answer me," Lisa said as they turned toward a booth where people were trying to throw rings over the necks of bottles. "How many women do you have?"

"Too many," Ed grunted. "Besides, you're not my type -- I don't do little girls..." Ed was down to two from four, in reality; two of them had been manipulative little vixens, too vicious to leave with each other, let alone his other pair. They'd needed a firm hand -- and Ed wasn't the type to want to totally rule a woman. At the end of a chain of transactions, he managed to hand them off to a squad-mate -- and not get anything in return worth keeping. The squad mate had managed to keep one, but the other one persisted in various stupidities until she managed to run into something that didn't operate the way she thought it should -- something lethal... The other pair -- Lulu and Tina -- weren't much more independent than Mindy; Ed worried that they would forget to breathe if he was out of sight for very long...

Lisa took his chin and turned his head until he locked eyes with her. "If you took me, I'd want you to have me sized up to at LEAST five foot nine, with thirty-eight or forty inch hips and a nice, plush ass -- and have my pussy sized up if it needs it so it fits you perfectly." Her eyes bored into his. "I�m NOBODY's little girl..."

Suddenly, she was infinitely desirable. "I'll think about it," Ed choked out and turned his head away.

Warm breath moved in his ear while she murmured, "So, you CAN have another... What about two? When Mindy loses her baby fat, she just gonna be fat, you know -- unless somebody helps her..."

"If I took you on, I'd have to put you in charge of my other two," Ed muttered, amazed at how he'd let the situation slip.

"If you did," she whispered back, "you'd never want for anything..."

Ed found himself getting hard. "How do you do that?"

"What?" Lisa backed off so he could look at her.

"Set me off!" Ed replied. "I'm serious about the little girl thing. You shouldn't be able to..."

"Ed, Honey, trust me -- I'm NOT a little girl! I'm just stuck with the body of one! It's pretty frustrating, believe me!"

"Okay, okay..." Ed let go of Mindy to rub Lisa's back. "Little Napoleon..."

"I'm not THAT pushy, am I?" her eyes held his, but they were concerned.

"Well..." Ed thought about it. "It's more that you seem to have such a handle on what's going on. I wouldn't say you're pushy so much as a leader."

"Oh." Lisa glanced back over his shoulder. "Mindy..." She turned her attention back to Ed. "Better give her your hand..." Ed dropped his hand to his side and the other girl took it; gazing at Lisa, he just shook his head -- and she knew what he was implying. "Some people..." she husked, laying her head on his shoulder.

"Yeah." Some people needed to be led -- and many of them ended up following the wolves, not the sheepdogs... A thought occurred to him. "Sex?"

Lisa got it. "A little. Not much -- being little can be a blessing if you don't want to spend your whole life on your back. I give pretty good head -- but lots of times, they opt for Mindy." Her tone darkened. "Poor Mindy -- she knows too much, probably; her daddy likes her ass..."

Ed grimaced. "To beat it?" he asked, hoping he'd been too dirty-minded.

"No." Lisa gazed back over his shoulder at her girlfriend. "Well, maybe that, too."

"Nasty."

"She's a little... broken..." Lisa's gaze, troubled, still rested on her friend who plodded along on Ed's right, her hand trustingly placed in his.

'Broken probably describes it,' Ed thought. He'd read that, in many cases, a child preyed upon in that manner would do whatever the predator wanted -- any place, any time... "How long?" he asked.

"Years," Lisa replied. "She didn't tell me -- she doesn't really understand that it's wrong. But I don't go to her house any more. I think he's moved on to her little sister, mostly."

Ed shook his head. It was fucking disgusting -- but it happened. There were laws designed to keep it from happening, but they had to get caught... Ed really didn't have a beef against incest -- he'd seen times where it was a good thing -- but this was predation, plain and simple. This didn't bear any resemblance to his cousin Nona, who'd crawled into her father's bed every night for a week before breaking down his resistance to popping her cherry. That was just as illegal, but wasn't immoral -- well, by Ed's lights, anyway. Shit, he hadn't lasted ten minutes with Nona; she'd crawled into his bunk, put his hand on her bare tit and reached for his cock... No, Uncle Jack wasn't a criminal. There was a big difference between a girl hunting it from a loved one and a guy who abuses little kids -- even if the law didn't seem to think so...

"What are you thinking about?" Lisa asked.

"Nothing..." Knowing he couldn't get away with that, he added, "Pretty sorry..."

"Yeah."

They broke free of the midway and walked across the relatively open ground to the riding ring. Equestrian events were up right now; barrel races and more rodeo-oriented events would be later and motorcycle events and the tractor-pull that night -- or that had been the original plan, at least... Ed's partner on this end, CPL Mike Evans, was leaning on the fence next to the grandstand. "What's all this?" Mike asked.

"My disguise," Ed replied.

"Nice." Mike turned toward the ring, where a young female rider in traditional garb -- helmet, jacket, blouse, jodhpurs, and knee-high boots -- was putting her horse through its paces, "I think this is the only place on the fairgrounds where the girls are wearing anything -- and here I stand... Where did you collect them?"

"They collected me," Ed replied.

Mike eyed the girls. "Are they your new s--, uh, concubines?"

Ed opened his mouth, but Lisa got there first. "We're working on it. Do you know of any reason why we shouldn't be?"

Mike looked amused. "I had Ed pegged for a grave-robber, not a cradle-robber..."

"We're legal -- you can bet he checked..." Lisa assured him.

"You gonna put her down?" Mike asked.

"Not until he has to," Lisa announced.

"Hey, Ed, do you talk any more?" Mike cackled.

Lisa shut up, glaring. Ed eyed Mike. "On occasion. If she wants to talk and I don�t feel like arguing..." That got him a bus on the cheek.

Mike grunted. "You could share -- I need a disguise, too."

Ed flicked a glance at Mindy. "Pick her up, then..."

"Asshole!" Mike shot back, grinning.

"Mindy," Lisa said, leaning over behind Ed's back. "Mike is Ed's friend -- and he's also one of them... Go stand with him and pretend he's your step-dad."

"Okay." Mindy switched sides, sliding between Mike and Ed, matching Mike's stance leaning on the fence rail as best she could. Ed took a moment to look the heavier girl over -- she just didn't look... mature... The chunky body sported a couple of splayed titties that would probably fit in small paper cups capped by pretty good sized areolas and eraser-sized nipples. Right now, they stuck out fairly straight, but they were going to sag... As Ed watched, Mike put his hand on her ass; Mindy, blank-faced, lifted her skirt to allow him to contact her bare ass -- no panties there...

Mike jerked his hand away. "I thought I was gonna be your dad?"

"She comes from a close-knit family," Ed muttered.

Mindy just looked at him blankly, then shifted her gaze to Lisa, who told her, "Different rules, Min. Just snuggle up and let him lead, okay?"

Mindy eyed Mike questioningly while setting her blocky hip against his thigh. Mike gingerly put his hand on her waist, and Mindy put hers over his. "What's up?" Mike subvocalized on the squad's local channel.

"The worst thing you can think of," Ed replied, just as quietly. "She's been molested -- regularly -- and doesn't know any better."

"Shit." Mike squeezed Mindy to him. She gazed up at him, still poker-faced, but seemed satisfied and shifted her attention to events in the ring.

"So where is everyone?" Ed asked.

"Sarge and Lewis are on the other side of the stands," Mike muttered, "Langston and Hughes got caught up in something and haven't arrived. Matthews and Edwards are right over there..."

"And Mixon and Hunter?" Ed asked.

"Behind the stands."

"How long?"

"Seven minutes," Mike and the AI said in unison. Ed wondered why he'd even asked -- he knew the answer. Nerves, apparently.

Lisa pressed her breasts against his side. "So how big is this?"

"Big," he whispered. "The whole fair."

"Wow!" She said nothing else, just snuggled in close.

Mindy eyed them, her face vaguely jealous, and started trying to shift Mike's hand over her belly. Mike let it ride until she lifted the waistband of her skirt, then told her, "You don't have to do that." Mindy didn't say anything -- just looked mildly unhappy.

The AI waited a few seconds, then announced to both males, "There is considerable distress in Mindy. Prime computation is that she believes that you are denying her affection."

Mike frowned. "She seems fine."

"Her heartbeat and several other metabolic markers are elevated," the AI argued. "Research indicates that children exposed to the type of abuse she has seen do not display their emotions. They internalize their conflicts and pain -- this is according to your species' psychological data."

Lisa, sensing a change in Ed, raised her head. "What's wrong?"

"Mindy may be... unhappy."

Lisa snapped her head around. "Oh, Lord... Min! Outsider rules!"

Mindy stopped wrestling with Mike's hand immediately, gazing up at him in a clear effort to gauge his level of concern. Mike smiled encouragement and she settled back against him, but seemed unwilling to allow him to move his hand to more neutral territory and watched Lisa from the corner of her eye. Her expressions were subtle, but Ed was already learning to read her; she was sulking. "It isn't over, is it?" he subvocalized.

"Yours is the high-probability assessment," the AI agreed. "Stubborn and jealous appear to be the terms for her current state."

"Recommendations?"

"Allow her to continue."

"I'll end up with my hand in her twat!" Mike hissed.

"You cannot reach it. She will be satisfied when you have reached the limit of what you can do," the AI replied.

The two soldiers shared a glance. "Fine," Mike grunted, and relaxed his hand, stopping his attempted withdrawal. Mindy waited a moment, then gently started rubbing his hand to cover an attempt to move it further. Mike allowed this, and Mindy relaxed visibly while slowly working his hand under the skirt's waistband. "I can't believe I'm doing this," Mike subvocalized.

"It'll be all right," Ed replied. "Four minutes. I'm watching things," he added, well aware that Mike was distracted.

Two minutes later, she had all she could get. Mike had a palm over her soft, round belly, and a couple of fingers touching the narrow vertical strip of her pubes that she left when she shaved her mons for Daddy. She looked up at the big guy sidelong, and, confident that he knew where he was and what he was doing, settled down happily. "Girl needs a lot of help," Mike muttered.

"Yeah," Ed agreed.