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| The "Thinking Horndog" talked to me about the Sa'arm Cycle which captured my imagination. We discussed the subject and he was not displeased with allowing me to write within his framework. |
I'm an anomaly, did you know that?
My CAP score was a good 6.3, you see, not high enough for me to volunteer for Confederacy service... and, coupled with the possession of a "Y" chromosome (if not possession by a "Y" chromosome), likely to be stuck on Earth when the Sa'arm arrived.
Yeah, yeah, I know-- there are plenty of people in my kind of situation, but, to be honest, the anomaly part comes from me being jinxed.
I was standing around in the crowd of cattle during another Confederacy extraction.
Yes, I said, "another".
And, again, you need to know that I don't go looking for these things. Usually people see maybe two or three-- well, the non-volunteers, I mean, and not counting the extraction teams-- and will likely be left behind or otherwise passed over, men and women both.
I, however, believed myself eligible for the record books.
This was the thirteenth extraction I have witnessed. I was pretty sure this would be no different from the twelve I'd experienced before and told my co-workers to try to get a sponsor and get off this rock.
Men seldom get selected, you see. It's not like men have much use when reproduction is involved since we're not in the critical path.
What? You don't understand?
One man with fifty women will make a lot more children than one woman with fifty men. Wombs are the critical path. Men don't have 'em, so, really, men are seldom picked more often than one in twenty.
I figured that, as usual, I was going nowhere this time, either, so I sat myself back down, out of the way, to watch the proceedings.
Or even to nap, which sounded pretty good just then.
Truthfully, once I'd gotten over the sting of rejection, back around the fourth or fifth extraction I'd been in, I could now relax and not stress out over the whole deal. I'd become resigned to going nowhere.
One of the soldiers came over to try to get me into lining up with the rest of the cattle, and I laughed. I'd met her before, after all, and greeted her, with "Sergeant Owens, nice to see you again. This is the thirteenth time I've been in this situation... do you really think I have anything of value to offer? Seriously, thirteenth time will not be the charm, don't you think?"
She laughed, patted me on the shoulder, and headed back to the milling crowd. I watched as she shook her head as she walked away. I sighed and relaxed again.
Today's pickup was unusual, a whole bunch of school girls on a school trip. This got a smile out of me, feeling certain that I wasn't leaving with any of them and relaxed, safe in that certainty. I sat back in the booth and propped my feet up on the opposite seat and closed my eyes, figuring a nice nap would be best to keep me from getting my hopes up.
Hearing, out of the blue, "Hey, you... I wanna see your ID card!" snapped at you from nearby can wake you up faster than you wanted it to.
So, yes, I was disoriented... but this trim little girl, maybe all of fifteen years old, was standing at the end of the booth, staring at me. In lieu of speech, I pulled out my ID card with my CAP score and handed it to the girl.
This was the closest I had ever come to being selected. I maintained the mantra in my head of "Don't get your hopes up! don't get your hopes up!" to minimize the feeling of disappointment that was going to arrive very soon.
"Jack," she finally snapped, "get your ass over there by the Sergeant, you're coming with me, OK?"
My eyes snapped open, my mind going into shock. Had I just been picked?
"Yes, Jack," the little girl added, watching my face, "I'm taking you with me. Make sure to thank Sergeant Owens, will you?"
I've never heard such a happy sound in my life once I picked her up and swung her around in a hug... and only a little bit of that was coming from me!