Chapter 48

Jack:

In the meantime, the AI piped up with, <Jack Harper, the idea of using a five year old to create a video may have merit.>

"Oh?" I'd been talking out my ass...

"Young Abe appears to be a viable candidate for the creation of such a video, given proper support."

"Um." I was a little dazed and confused. Abe was there in the room, having viewed the video -- which, let's face it, hadn't even been rated 'R'. I shrugged. What the Hell... "Abe, the AI thinks you can make a better video than that lady. What do you think? It will help..."

Abe cocked his head. "Maybe."

"We can put together some already collected video, Abe. You can be the narrator," the AI offered.

"Narrator?"

"The person who talks, describing things." the AI clarified.

"That might be fun..." He wandered off. I told Tara that he was making a video and that she should assist as necessary and headed off for Colonist Control -- this time with Beth along to keep my hands busy. All of my women were looking improved -- even the ones I hadn't made serious adjustments to. I'd noticed at mess that there were fewer real horror-shows present, although we weren't there for the heaviest flow.

The AI alerted me that the product was ready a bit after eleven so I watched it -- and laughed my ass off! At twelve, I put it on the mess walls... "This morning I made an idle boast, so my five-year-old and an AI got together to prove me right!"

The video started with Abe standing off-center of the screen in a T-shirt and shorts. "Hi! I'm Abe. This is my sister Elise..." A short clip of little Elise waving appeared. "And my sister Shawna..." There was another short clip of Shawna in a high chair, eating. "This is Momma..." Tara proceeded to go from Presentation One through Presentation Three on-screen, smiling -- and the AI made sure you saw every square inch as it videoed, including close-ups of her pink parts -- yet the whole thing took maybe ten seconds. "Daddy hasn't been around in a while ... This is Jack..." I appeared on screen, in uniform -- surveillance video, apparently, since no one had asked me for any. "Jack is what you call a sponsor. A few days ago, Momma made an agreement with Jack that he would take care of us if she did what he told her to do. Some of that includes adult stuff..." There was a short montage of me fucking Tara and Tara giving me a blowjob. "Momma doesn't mind, and Jack is a nice guy -- I like him. He treats Momma better than Daddy did, and he's a LOT nicer than Momma's old boss. This is Keisha..." We got a split-screen of Keisha, standing, naked, slowly turning, Keisha giving me a blowjob, and Keisha and I fucking. "This is Frieda..." There was another split-screen with similar footage. "And Beth. They all help Momma take care of me and are really nice..." Somewhere, they got a shot of Beth knelt up doggie with a beatific expression on her face while yours truly pounded her pussy, making her ass jiggle. "They all do adult stuff with Jack and they're pretty happy about it. Beth is pregnant -- and she's REALLY happy! Maybe this stuff really isn't so bad, huh? Bye!" Abe grinned and waved and the video faded out.

I came back on with, "Okay, maybe Abe isn't selling anything -- but as you can see, a lot of you probably aren't REALLY looking at a fate worse than death ... Clearly, if you ask an AI for some help, you'll get a better product. I had absolutely nothing to do with this little production after authorizing it. I didn't even pose for the shots -- they're all surveillance videos. So, has the old man poked you since you came on board? Maybe it's worth looking at..." I left them with that.

Chief Slocum:

Monday morning we got underway and I could stop standing watches in Transport Room Fifty-Two. Transport activity in transit was limited to the ship's internal transporters and while they required an occasional glance, they were preset; you just punched a button and stepped on the pad and stepped off on the far side -- a kid could do it. I had a team wandering the corridors doing maintenance checks -- like a transporter had EVER failed -- and put my feet up in my office and eyeballed some concubine personals. I had finally had to get rid of Trixie -- we just didn't mesh -- and I hadn't replaced her. No, I didn't recycle her or anything -- Crewman Reynolds had the hots for her, so I handed her off. Frankly, I didn't expect her to last with him, either, she was such an airhead.

Lieutenant Harper's collection of porkers got me to thinking -- of course, as it turned out, most of 'em didn't belong to him, anyway, but rather to some Doctor Hopkins. They were all related, somehow, evidently, so I went looking for chicks named Hopkins, because the young one had something -- something I couldn't put a finger on -- that made her hot.

But I couldn't find an ad for her, which was sort of irritating. Well, there was more than one way to skin a cat; I did a search on Sub-Decurion Hopkins -- and got two! Pictures got me the younger one -- the one I'd pissed off; hopefully, she wouldn't hold a grudge. Still it was best to do this personally, so I got a location from the AI and headed over to where she was going through classroom areas. "Sub-Decurion!"

She turned, looking weary, "Yes, Crewman?" Her boy toy turned too, looking wary and protective. She cocked her head, adding ruefully, "Sorry, I don't have the ranks down yet."

"The Marines would call me Gunny, but on this tub, I'm a Chief Petty Officer," I replied. "Chief Slocum."

"You look familiar..."

"Transport Room. I have a big mouth," I replied, prepared to take it like a man.

"Oh, yeah. Lieutenant Harper apologized for you," she replied, pursing her lips. "What can I do for you?"

"About your sister," I said lamely, "I can't find her personal ad. Only so many Hopkins..."

The woman pursed her lips again, eyeing me. "Judith got married young. She got the looks in the family, but she's not the brightest bulb in the circuit -- not that she's stupid, just ... gullible, I guess. It didn't work out, and she was partially to blame." She seemed to shake herself; there seemed to be some undercurrents, like irritation that her sister had married before her, that she was cuter, that she got more attention ... The boy toy stepped up behind her and rubbed her back and she glanced over her shoulder at him -- but he didn't stop and she didn't say anything to him. Instead, she looked back at me. "Try Collins." Then she cocked her head and her eyes flashed and she said, "Slocum. That's a fine old redneck name."

"Yes, Ma'am." I took the hit with good grace.

"Good luck, Chief Slocum. I really mean that." She turned and headed off down the companionway, her boy toy heeling her.

Back in my office, I called up Judith Collins. Some things are just too cute for words -- and her personal ad was one of them. It wouldn't garner a lot of positive attention, but I was ... enchanted. Yeah, enchanted -- that's a word I don't use much. There was something about her ... I punched the assigned extension, seventeen sixty-eight...

"Hello?"

"I'm answering your ad," I replied, cutting to the chase. The AI did whatever it is they do to set up video transmission and reception on almost any surface of the ship's interior. She was in a class with about a hundred other concubines, apparently, about ten feet from the vantage point, facing to my left. Glancing left, she obviously picked up my visage on the wall, then got up out of 'Attention' and approached.

"The AI feels that answering the phone is more important," she related. I was somewhat surprised, since every other female in sight was rubbernecking. "I'm kind of surprised," she added, "I've been told it sucked."

"I'm a niche audience, I guess," I replied, smiling ruefully. "Do you remember me? I told you a couple of days ago that I'd like to see you naked."

"In the transporter room?" Judith dimpled. "I remember. Here I am..." She did a slow three-sixty.

"I was hoping for a close-up," I replied.

"Do you want to look, or did you have something more personal in mind?" she asked, smiling.

"Now that you mention it..."

"When?" She stopped and I knew that she was communing with the AI. "Apparently my schedule is open."

"Fifteen minutes?" I offered. "Suite seven ninety-six?" I merely parroted the address the AI gave me as it flashed in my brain.

"I'll be there." The video link dropped. I went to the nearest head to see what I looked like -- why was I acting like I was on a date? I'd HAD concubines -- and I'd had any number of women in the last couple of years...

Judith:

So I was going to a private viewing with a prospective sponsor. The looks the other women in the room gave me ran the gamut from envy to scorn. The AI, however, expressed approval. "You did well, Judith Collins," it announced generally. "Even to the point of what you call flirting. Congratulations." Someone clapped, and several took it up -- but someone hooted, "Whore!"

"That will be enough, Allison!" the AI erupted. "You will be difficult to place; you have a poor attitude."

"Why, because I'm not a slut who will open her legs for any dick to come along?" Allison snarled "This is disgusting! It's pimping! It's..."

"Operator..." the AI muttered.

Suddenly, Allison's face got red and her eyes rolled up and she flopped bonelessly to the mat she was kneeling on. "Medical Corpsman to Concubine Classroom Seven Seventy-Eight," the AI intoned. Thinking about it, I knew it didn't have to transmit that dialog in the classroom -- it was saving itself explanations. "Ladies," it resumed, "Let's talk about bad attitude -- and your collars ... Do not touch the clasp, or you will get a shock! Judith Collins, you have an appointment..."

I got out of there. My brain was seething as I followed the AI's directions to Suite Seven Ninety-Six. Obviously, the collars had some kind of control device built in... 'AI? About the collars?'

<There is a device that delivers an electric shock on command, similar to dog collars for what you call 'invisible fences, '> the AI related. <In extremity, they can be used to provide a seriously unpleasant punishment experience. It was time you learned of this. You should be aware that sponsors do not normally have direct control over the device and that a human operator must activate it upon the recommendation of an AI conducting surveillance. You should also be aware that separate means of effecting the execution of a concubine in the process of an act that might seriously harm or kill a sponsor or a child are available.>

'Do I dare ask?'

<Observe.>

At the AI's mental prodding, I stopped in the hallway and looked at the wall to my left. A video window opened. A male concubine was approaching a sponsor with a wicked-looking knife. There was a POP! -- and the concubine's head came off his neck, very messily! I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall, nauseous. "God!"

<Again, individual sponsors only control this function under special circumstances. Male concubines tend to be less amenable to control -- and might shake off the electrical stimulus long enough to do damage... >

"Uuuuuhhh..." was all I could get out around my clenched stomach.

<This was perhaps not the most opportune moment for this period of instruction, > the AI muttered. <You will be late for your appointment if you do not hurry!>

"Right..." I staggered forward, leaning against the wall, taking deep breaths. I got to the suite before I was really settled; the door slid open and I staggered in to find my interviewer already standing there.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I just found out about these..." I pointed at my collar.

"Personally? AI..." After a moment, he nodded. "Oh. Yeah, that's ugly. I bet it didn't tell you that the explosive has only been used maybe three times since they've been deployed." He came forward and wrapped a hand around my upper arm. "Frankly, I think they suck. Are you okay?"

"I just wanted to vomit -- real bad..."

"I'm sorry..." He stood awkwardly, clearly wanting to comfort me, but restraining himself. I WANTED comfort, though; without even thinking about it, I stepped into his embrace. The guy was nearly a head taller than me and he had big hands -- but the one that rubbed my back was gentle. I tucked my head against his barrel chest and explored his back with my hands; he was solid under his uniform. Nothing much got said for a minute or two, until my stomach settled and I raised my head -- then he instantly released me. "Sit." He waved at a chair and settled into another. "Tell me about you. You were married?"

"Right out of high school," I replied. Had I said that in my ad? "I was a good Grade 'B' I guess, and I collected a guy and we thought we were in love -- or maybe I just did. I was kind of stupid about a bunch of things, though. He wasn't that great a catch in the first place -- my sister tried to warn me -- and he started fooling around..."

"When did you leave him?" my interviewer asked.

"I guess technically the night before I stepped on the disk that brought me here," I replied ruefully. "I've been told it was partially my fault, anyway..."

"Oh?"

"Momma wasn't much good at discussing sex while I was growing up," I explained, "even though I guess she's an authority on the stuff. She was pretending to be something she wasn't, and that included pretending to be almost a Puritan..." I looked up at him; I'd been talking to my lap. "Suddenly, I'm hearing that it's okay to enjoy sex -- but I'm confused..."

My interviewer sat back, looking a little confused. "I would want you to enjoy it -- a lot! I can't think of any guy who wouldn't. I'd be particularly pleased if you enjoyed it with me..."