Chapter 5

Mickey went back to Bettina. "Betty," she said carefully, "I know you don't want to have anything to do with this alien thing -- but it might be good for Tyler..."

"What?" Betty blinked.

"Well, suppose I took Tyler with me and took care of him for a while..." Mickey suggested.

"When would you be back?" Betty asked.

"Well, I don't know, exactly..." Mickey hedged. "I know that you think of this as slavery and you don't think it is necessary -- but children are well treated in the colonies by all accounts. If you're wrong, Tyler will be safer with me -- and if you're right, he'll still be okay..."

Betty's eyes got glassy as she turned over the concept in her head. Not having to go home to Tyler -- not having him screaming and yelling and getting into things -- peace and quiet... "You would do this? That's... really nice of you, Mickey..."

"Why don't you call David and discuss it with him?" Mickey prompted.

"Yes..." Betty fished out her telephone in a daze. "Hello, David? No, it's not about the babysitter. Look, David, um, one of those things is happening -- Mickey and I stopped at the bakery café and some of those Marines came in... No, I'm not going anywhere, but Mickey is. David, Honey, she has this idea about Tyler..." There was an extended pause, then Betty said quietly, "I'll let her explain it." She handed Mickey the phone.

"David?"

"This is Mickey, right? The lady she does exercise classes with at the gym?" David asked.

"Yes."

"Can you tell me what's going on? Betty isn't always..."

"Rational?" Mickey filled in.

David's voice became guarded. "Ever since Tyler was born..."

"David, I saw her CAP card. I think I understand. I'm seriously worried about both of them..." Mickey replied.

"Betty said..."

"There is a pickup going on, David. I've been selected. I'll be taking my children, too. The man who selected me is quite nice, and when he saw Betty's scores and the notations on her card, well..." Mickey paused for a moment. "Look, I know it is none of my business, and you can tell me to go jump in a lake or something, but I was thinking that it might be better if Tyler got raised elsewhere."

"What are you saying?" David asked.

"I would like to take him with me to care for him," Mickey replied. "We're afraid that, well, Betty is a danger to him..."

"Betty is a danger to herself, these days," David admitted. "And Tyler makes things worse -- MUCH worse. I'm working two jobs so she can pay for babysitters -- but SHE needs one worse than HE does! You don't know what you've done for us already..." He sighed. "And now she's fallen for the drivel of some religious crackpot..."

"Hold on a second..." Mitch walked up, and Mickey asked, "Well?"

"The Marine wants written permission from both parents."

"I think we can get that," Mickey replied. Returning to the phone, se said, "David, are you at all interested in what I'm offering?"

"What exactly ARE you offering?" David asked.

"I would take Tyler and he would emigrate to the colonies with me," Mickey replied. "I think this would relieve Betty of a lot of her stress..."

"I would never see him again!" David exclaimed.

"Yes, but he would be safe," Mickey argued. "There are ways to communicate back and forth, I would think..."

"Why would you do this?" David demanded.

"Because it is the right thing to do," Mickey replied. "David, she could do... horrible things..."

David subsided. "I know." He sighed. "What would you need from me?"

"A paper -- basically permission to take him. The more official it looks, the better. A legal guardianship is what we're trying to sell to the Marines," Mickey explained.

"How soon?" David asked.

"The sooner the better -- try to have something in place later today, if you can. A handwritten note is probably something we can argue with, but if you know a lawyer..." She glanced at Mitch. "It's probably best if it is at least notarized."

"I'm leaving work right now," David told her. "I will do my best -- and, if possible, I want to be there, when... Whose names do I put on the paper?"

"My name is Michelle Rawlins," she told him. The man is..." She glanced at Mitch.

"Mitchell Franke -- with an 'e' on the end," he told her.

"Did you get that?" Mickey asked.

"Franke, with an 'e'," David replied, scribbling busily. "Thank you. I know this has been an uneven conversation, but I AM grateful..."

"I'm glad," Mickey replied. "We'll get Betty to sign something here."

"Good," David replied. "Let me talk to her."

Mickey handed Betty the phone. Betty said "Yes," and "Uh huh," several times in the next few minutes, then hung up. "David says you want me to sign a paper so Tyler will be safe?"

"Yes, Honey. Give us a few minutes -- we'll be right back..." Mickey turned to Vickie. "Can you keep an eye on her?" Vickie nodded.

Mitch looked over at the group of selected women clustered in one corner. "That woman has a laptop..."

Mickey nodded and went off to see if she could collect pen and paper.

Rachana got slowly up from the table and carefully put her feet on the floor. Anne stood by, watching. "I'm sorry, Rachana -- really."

"I did this -- you did not," Rachana replied. "What do you know of this other woman?" A woman knelt at Sanket's feet, sucking busily on his erection.

"Nothing, I'm afraid," Anne replied. If anything, she was as concerned as Rachana -- being replaced by a younger model was a definite possibility. She couldn't fathom what Sanket saw in her -- and that scared her. She put her arm around Rachana's shoulder and the pair went off to see their master.

When they arrived, Rachana went immediately to her knees, bowing her head. "My Master, this humble slut begs to serve your pleasure." She'd been practicing this little speech for several minutes in her head, hoping it set the proper tone to please the man she loved.

Sanket was mightily pleased -- but could not appear to show it. "This is your sister in bondage, Donna. Beg this boon from her."

"Donna..."

Donna didn't let her get any further; she backed off. "I should probably finish, to prove that I can be pleasing -- but maybe we could share?"

"Can everybody share?" a plaintive voice sounded behind them.

"This is Anne," Rachana made the introduction. "She is also our... sister."

"Hi." Donna took the older woman's arm and pulled her down between them. "Let's see what we can do..."

Sanket began to realize just how busy his future was going to be...

Leah gave Tamara about a half-second warning, whipping around, her eyes popping. Before Tamara could turn, a voice said, "You really shouldn't bend over like that -- it gives guys ideas," and a hand settled onto her hip.

"Yeah, I noticed," Tamara got out through a dry throat, turning to eye the latest intruder. There was a VERY young, bleached-blonde girl standing beside the guy, grinning...

Mike Fisher grinned back. "One of the Marines said you were interested, but busy."

"Ummm, yeah..." Tamara agreed. "Who is the girl? Isn't she kind of young?"

"Yeah, well, she's over the limit and she volunteered," Mike replied. "What's your name, Sweetie?"

Tamara wasn't impressed. She'd glimpsed him getting a blowjob from her earlier and he didn't even know her name... In some ways, it was very exciting, but in others... Her gaze swept to Leah and she made her decision. "I'm sorry -- not interested."

"Why not?" Mike asked, stung.

"Wrong vibe, I guess," Tamara muttered.

"Well good luck!" Mike rasped, turning away. "Things are getting short around here -- maybe you ought to pull off your panties for the next guy!"

The girl, trailing him as he stomped off, said, "Nikki. My name's Nikki!" Tamara wondered if he heard her...

"Mom!" Leah burst out.

"What?"

"That's twice! We're gonna be here when the Swarm arrives -- and it'll be ALL YOUR FAULT!"

"If it's a choice between that and turning some dirty old man loose on you... !" Tamara retorted hotly.

"Yeah, I know -- but jeez!" Leah's hand stole under her skirt -- and Tamara let it slide. The remark about pulling her panties off had been a jibe, but the crotch of hers was swamped...

"Leah, keep an eye on your sister -- I'll be back." Tamara just couldn't stand the feel of her swampy panties. She headed for the Ladies Room, moving quickly.

There were three women cowering in the Ladies Room -- well, one was actively cowering, and the other two were arguing. "Are they gone?" an older, heavyset woman asked.

"Not yet," Tamara told her. "But things have settled down. There are probably only a few slots left. You're safe if you want to be."

The other two were Latino -- maybe Puerto Rican -- and Tamara wasn't sure how she got in due to the way they were blocking the door. "I'm going out there, Mama!" the younger one -- in her twenties, Tamara figured -- declared.

"No, Isobel, please! What they are doing -- it's not what I want for you! Find a man -- marry! Don't do this!"

The younger one flounced and stamped her foot. "Mama! This may be our only chance!"

"For what? Slavery?" the older one countered. "To be totally at the will of some man for sex for the rest of our lives?"

"Sounds like marriage," Tamara chuckled.

The older woman turned on her. "This is different -- you know that!"

Tamara eyed her. "Probably not that much, to a good Catholic girl. Besides, would you rather have her off somewhere making babies, or being ground up for hamburger to feed something that looks like an animated toadstool and acts like something between a lizard and an army ant?"

"That won't happen," the woman said staunchly.

"I hear a lot of that," Tamara replied. "But if you talk to those two guys out there, you hear something in their voices... It's real, all right."

"Then why have you not been selected?" the woman asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Tamara sighed. "Like you, I'm a mother -- and I was more concerned about what my little girls might see than their long-term welfare. That's about to change. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need a stall."

"To hide in?" the older woman scoffed.

"No, to pull off my panties and adjust my halter so the next guy to get a look sees the good parts!" Tamara retorted. "If you're so worried about her, maybe you should go with her!" She hit the stall and started working on her alterations. Outside the stall, the argument got more strident and shifted totally to Spanish; then, from the sound of things, it moved out through the door...

The panties were a quick fix -- she just left them on the floor of the stall. The halter top required some work to defeat the integral bra panel. She discovered that the panel fabric was just the same fabric as the main body of the halter, just folded back up inside and tacked back in; she had to cut it away, raggedly, at the bottom seam -- with cuticle scissors, which was all she had... Ah, well... The alterations took three precious minutes; she hoped that it wasn't too long... A quick glance at the mirror on the way out and she was headed back to her daughters. "What happened while I was gone?" she asked Leah.

"That guy came back -- the first one. The Marine," Leah related. "I think he wants to make sure we go..."

Tamara nodded. "I do, too, and it means that I'm going to have to do some things..." She turned to Latoya. "Sweetie, Momma is going to do some things that are very private and kind of nasty -- but all in a good cause. Do you understand?"

"Sex isn't nasty," a voice behind her declaimed.

Tamara glanced behind her -- it was the Marine. "It is to a ten-year- old," she answered. "So are a lot of other things that technically aren't."

"I get your point," Rick chuckled, thinking, 'Damn -- there was a panty line under that skirt, before... '

"What's left?" Tamara asked.

"The Indian guys are down to one apiece," Rick replied, "then there's the guy you blew off and one other -- but he's already saddled himself with a couple or three kids. My partner has some open slots, but he's slow to collect -- he made a lot of mistakes on the first pass. I figure he's gonna want to honeymoon with the sweet bitch he collected earlier today..." He paused. "Why did you blow off that guy?"

"He had a little girl trailing him -- I know he made her blow him -- and he didn't even know her name," Tamara replied. "How long would it be before he got interested in Leah?" She nodded at her daughter.

Rick and Leah eyed one another in mutual understanding. "How long before she got interested in him?" Rick countered.

"That's disgusting!" Tamara erupted.

"It's the reality," Rick replied, gazing at Tamara's ass. "Isn't it, Leah?" he added, without looking up.

"Uh huh," Leah nodded.

"Leah!" Tamara erupted, scandalized.

"Momma, we've got DAY CARE at my school! Do you think girls my age don't play with those things?" Leah retorted. "Pam Hawkins is five months pregnant and gets to skip gym!"

"God..." Tamara rubbed her face.

"Well, it wasn't a guess," Rick chuckled. "She's been staring at my zipper for five minutes."

Tamara looked behind her at the Marine; his pants had a significant bulge at the crotch and he was staring fixedly at her barely covered ass. "No wonder," she muttered, adding, "Go ahead." She watched him, felt him put his hand gently on her ass. "Keep going."

The hand slid over her ass, down to her thigh -- then back up, underneath the skirt. "Sweeet..." Rick breathed.

It felt wonderful, and the hungry look in his eyes fueled the heat in her. "Go ahead -- I could use a little." She spread her stance, granting him further access.

"Shit, that's nice!" Rick breathed, folding her jean skirt up out of the way. Then his hands were everywhere, stroking, tracing her split lips... Remembering her thing about names, he asked, "What's your name, Honey?"

"Tamara. Tamara Jackson." She lifted her head, turning to face front. She could feel him, now -- she didn't have to see him. "Go on," she husked, "I want it. I've been watching other women fuck all morning." Belatedly, probably due to the realization that she'd said 'fuck', she turned to her younger daughter. "Latoya..." she whirled a finger, telling the girl to look away. One look at Leah told her it was a waste of breath; there was the sound of a zipper behind her and Leah's eyes were glued...