Prodigious Collection - Cover

Prodigious Collection

Copyright© 2012 by Tomken

Chapter 1

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A cube ship holds a quarter million people. That's a lot! Some assembly required.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Ma/ft   mt/Fa   Fa/Fa   ft/ft   Fa/ft   Science Fiction   Incest   Harem   Interracial   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Squirting   Pregnancy   Slow  

Day 1

1 Section 1 -- Main pickup

The marine did not even step out of the elevator. The transporter nexus was tossed out onto the carpet in front of the open elevator door. Almost instantly, two more marines stepped off of the glowing disk. A dozen tiny drones then appeared and spread throughout the area above the available floor space. Without a word, the elevator door closed and the car rose to the next floor. Again: open door, toss disk, watch two marines and the drones appear, let the door close.

Repeat, repeat, repeat.

In the fifty-six-story office building the elevator banks were divided. Some serviced the lower floors, some served the middle floors and still others served the top floors. A marine had been detailed to each of the three banks of elevators, seeding every floor being serviced with a transporter nexus. When they were finished, the three marines were returned to the first floor retail area. Each of the myriad other elevators in the building had stopped at the nearest floor, opened its doors and ceased to function.

Surprised and shocked, the receptionist on the thirty-seventh floor took in the two BDU-dressed giants, a man and a woman, both two meters tall and solidly built. She managed to croak, "May I help you?"

"I'm sure you can," answered the smiling woman. "Do you think anyone here would like a free trip to the moon?"

The receptionist briefly closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs. "A trip to the moon? What are you talking about?"

The two marines glanced at each other and grinned, enjoying the confusion they had sown. "I'm Corporal Tim Hansen and this is Corporal Susan Chang of the Confederacy Marines."

When the poor receptionist remained silent in her confusion, Corporal Chang added, "We're auditioning for colonists. We're here to escort all comers to the moon. There, we will explain the program. All those who fit one of our profiles and are willing to go will be taken to the colonies. Those who change their minds about going or who don't fit our profile will be returned to this building."

By this time, two men had rounded the corner from deeper in the office and were watching, their confusion just as apparent. One of the men said, "This is a pickup? Where is the grey wall?"

The receptionist leaped from her chair so violently that it tipped over and noisily crashed to the floor. She was already unbuttoning her blouse.

Turning back to the receptionist, Corporal Chang held her arm out, her hand turned palm up and outward. "Not yet, please." The receptionist stopped but held the front of her blouse in her hands.

"We're trying this pickup without an interdiction field," Corporal Hansen explained. "This building is too near its neighbors to be isolated in a single field. Besides, we're going for quantity here. Anyone walking into the building can come, too."

"Could we gather all your people?" asked Corporal Chang. "That way, we may only have to explain once."

Soon, the lobby was crowded with people. More were in the hallways and some were in the elevator lobby, with the main office door wedged open. Someone had gone to the other offices on the same floor and invited all to listen. Only five minutes had elapsed since the marines had presented themselves at the reception desk.

"Okay, people, listen up," Corporal Hansen began, his voice amplified. "There's a honkin' big colony transport headed for Earth. The transport will hold a quarter of a million people. It has been decided that, to collect a quarter of a million people in a few days, the pickup routines you have all heard about won't work.

"This is the first large-scale trial of a new system. Everyone who is willing to consider going to the colonies may go to the moon. We will collect the dependents of any of you who choose to go. This time we mean 'dependents' very broadly. We will collect all of your children, no matter their age. We will collect spouses, if you want them and if they want to go. Parents, siblings, your secret lover, neighbors, friends, whoever there is, we don't care, they're all welcome as long as they're fertile.

"In the moon, each person has one day in which to decide whether or not to make a commitment to go to the colonies. Volunteer-grade persons are, of course, automatically accepted. All those who decide not to go will be returned to this building. All those who wish to continue and who do not have a CAP score over 6.4 will shed their clothes and begin the process of finding a suitable sponsor. Volunteers will be searching for and collecting concubines.

"We are here in an office building because we believe there to be a very high percentage of volunteer-level men and women here. Men, those of you who are not volunteers have a slim chance of being collected as a concubine. This is, however, the perfect opportunity to help your family escape, even if you have to leave them in the moon and come back home alone. You are welcome to go to the moon, although the facilities are deep inside and there will be no view. Frankly, brutal testing will determine whether men have the capacity to subordinate themselves to a sponsor. Any adult 'dependents'," and he made air quotes with two fingers on each hand, "that you have us pick up will decide for themselves whether to stay or come back to Earth.

"Ladies, if you wish to go to the colonies, you need only be fertile. Those of you who do not find a sponsor in the moon will be taken as a group to fill shortages of women in the colonies. Some of you may find a sponsor during transit. For you as well, any adult 'dependents' that you have us pick up will have to decide for themselves whether to stay or come back.

"Alright, those of you who want to go to the moon, step right up. Again, every last question you may have will be answered in the moon. If you don't like the answers, you will be returned to this building. If you think that you may want to be returned to this building, tell us upon your arrival in the moon and we will arrange for your dependents to be cared for here on Earth until you make your decision. We don't want to involve them if you are uncertain right from the beginning. They can wait up to twenty-four hours in the care of our colleagues for you to make up your mind. For those of you who are unwilling to go to the moon before questions are answered, go see Corporal Chang," and he pointed at his fellow marine.

Corporal Hansen moved the fallen receptionist's chair and placed the transporter pad on the floor behind her desk so that he could control who approached it. Corporal Chang took up a position somewhat away from the pad but near enough to step in at the first sign of trouble.

"Please make sure you have your CAP cards," said Corporal Hansen. "Leave your weapons. Take your wallets and your purses. Take your cell phones, your keys and coats and jackets. Leave just about everything else." A number of people turned and went back into the offices, only to return with personal belongings. "Please keep this orderly. No stampedes allowed. You all get to go if you want to."

He guided the first man toward the now-glowing pad. "Walk onto the nexus and keep walking. By the time you get your second foot down, the surface will be polished stone and you'll be in the moon. Don't stop or else the next person will crash into you. Follow the instructions you hear when you get there."

The glow turned red for a moment as the man stepped on the device, and then returned to green. Corporal Hansen gave the same instructions to the next person, who stepped onto the pad and was gone. Corporal Hansen guided person after person onto the pad.

"What about securing this office?" a man asked.

"We will see that the outer doors of the offices are locked," answered Corporal Chang.

"How are you going to do that?" the man continued.

"We will see that the outer doors of the offices are locked," repeated Corporal Chang with a big grin and a twinkle in her eye. "Don't worry about it. We'll handle it."

Corporal Chang briefly looked up and her expression made it appear she was thinking. She recovered her demeanor, turned toward the fourth man in line for the transporter pad and brought her hand toward his middle. A loud zap was heard and the man collapsed to the floor as though boneless. Chang calmly turned the man over, reached into his right front pocket and removed a pistol.

"This is an incredibly bad idea, people," she said in a loud voice while waving the pistol in the air. "This man will be out for several hours. He will awaken with a headache on steroids, and the rest of us will be long gone. Will the other guy with a gun carefully put your hands on your head and come see me, please?"

Sure enough, a man from deeper in the crowd did as he was told, presenting himself to Corporal Chang with his fingers laced atop his head. She guided him away from the queue and from among those trying to ask questions. "Why shouldn't you get the same treatment as that guy?" she asked him.

People were now forced to step over the unconscious man on their way to the transporter pad. A couple of people quietly giggled at the man's fate. Chang heard whispering that the idiot had got what he deserved.

"How did you know he had a gun?" asked the incredulous man. "How did you know one other person had a gun? How do you know there aren't any more?"

Corporal Chang simply smiled at him. One by one in rapid sequence, the previously unnoticed drones flashed a light. "The Confederacy has lots and lots of nifty gadgets," she chuckled. "You didn't answer my question. Do you want a world class headache?"

"No, no, no!" squawked the alarmed man. "I'm a volunteer! I didn't mean anyone harm. I would have given it to you when I made it up here. I just wanted to help if I was needed."

Chang briefly peered over the man's shoulder, a far-away look in her eyes. "Patrick McNeil, that was a mistake. If you weren't a volunteer, you'd be unconscious now." The man flinched when she spoke his name. "If you fuck up again, being a volunteer won't save you. If you proceed to the moon, and if you so much as look cross-eyed at someone, you will never have another headache again. Do you understand me?" The frightened man nodded vigorously. "Do you want to go?" More nodding. She shoved him toward her partner.

Two men collected the unconscious man and carried him by his hands and feet into the conference room. They left him there and resumed their places in the queue. Corporal Hansen kept the stream of people stepping onto the transporter nexus at a rapid clip. Corporal Chang tried to maintain her composure through an endless series of inane questions.

Finally, all of those who were ready to go had passed through the transporter nexus. The two corporals were left with three women and a man, none of whom appeared to be able to make up their minds. "Pardon my French," growled Corporal Hansen, "but it's time to shit or get off the pot. Those of you who choose not to go will be locked on this floor for about an hour."

When the four still dithered, Chang sighed deeply and turned to the four people. "You four are too stupid to go anyway. We told you that you can change your mind. I answered every one of your idiotic questions. Step on the fucking pad or go in the conference room. NOW!"

Heads down, all four cowards scurried onto the pad and were gone. Chang and Hansen looked at each other and smiled. Seventeen minutes had elapsed. "The AI says there are no people on this floor except the folks in the conference room -- a woman and five guys plus our sleeping beauty," said Hansen. With a wave, Chang stepped onto the pad and disappeared. Ten of the twelve tiny drones followed suit.

Hansen picked up the transporter pad and collapsed it into a small tube. He determined that, in the conference room, there was at least one person from each of the offices on the floor and that they agreed to lock up. With a sigh, he entered the stairwell, established a wall screen to keep the door shut, and began the long trudge down the stairs.


More or less the same thing happened on all of the floors above the main floor. No shots were fired, no serious injuries were sustained and only one or two people per floor were introduced to the stingers. With the guarantee of return passage, the vast majority of people in the building chose to take the plunge.

In the basement garage, one marine had been stationed near the now inactive elevators. The entrance to the garage remained open and a trickle of people parked their cars and approached the elevators. The marine had to repeat his spiel again and again. Two people opted not to go and returned to their cars.

The other marine had stationed himself at the garage exit. He too delivered the same pitch over and over. Those who took him up on the offered extraction backed up and re-parked their cars. Those cars that contained no volunteers and no women were allowed to pass, unaware of the pickup going on throughout the building.

The main floor of the building was where all the fun was happening. Some wise guy had decided that an interdiction field would not be used during the midmorning pickup, and that pedestrians entering the building would be allowed to participate. The marine extraction team had interrupted all of the landline telephones serving the building. However, cellular phones remained operational. Hundreds of people frantically called friends and family, urging them to come to the building post haste. Many in the usual flow of pedestrians approaching the building became distressed as more and more people were seen sprinting for the entrance.

One of the primary objectives of the extraction was speed. Only twenty minutes had been budgeted. A number of small shops occupied the main floor. To ensure success, eight marines had been assigned to the main floor. In addition, one of each pair of marines on the upper floors was to come down the stairs to assist.

The marines entered the shops in twos and threes. As there was no need to hold an orgy to facilitate sponsor/concubine match-ups and, since everyone was welcome to go, the main floor shops were cleared out in record time. None of the upper floor marines even made it to the main floor in time to assist. When the main floor had been cleared out, the marines stanched the flow of pedestrians entering the building by the simple expedient of rubber doorstops on the front revolving doors.

All of the marines coming down from the upper floors and all but one of the main floor marines exited through the last remaining transporter pad. The last marine headed down the stairwell to the garage. Soon, all of the marines were in the moon. The first phase of the extraction had come off without a hitch. Over thirty-two hundred people had been extracted.

1 Section 2 -- Earlier Confederacy planning

The new office-building paradigm had not been universally embraced within the Confederacy ranks. There was outrage at the proposal that no interdiction field be used. The twenty-minute time budget was ridiculed, as was the two minute budget for each secondary extraction. Some objected to the use of an entire company of marines. The idea that all comers would be accepted for transit to the moon caused heated arguments.

The fact that the cube ship transporter Valhalla had a two-week turn-around that would begin the following day helped to focus the minds of the planners. There was no practical alternative extraction method which would begin to meet the required two hundred fifty thousand people being extracted so quickly.

After some rough-and-tumble discussion, a framework had been agreed upon. The lightening fast extraction of the entire building would be conducted without interdiction fields. It was conceded that taking the overlarge number of low CAP males would be allowed for the primary goal of safe and rapid collection of their 'dependents' in secondary collections -- on condition that no unbound male concubine could bring minor dependents to the moon unless accompanied by its mother. As many low-CAP males as possible would promptly be driven back to Earth; the remaining surplus would probably be forced home in a week. It was agreed that no post-menopausal women would be extracted from the office building or in the secondary extractions.

There was sharp disagreement and lively discussion about the fate of the minor dependents of people who decided to be returned to Earth. There was particular concern about older children, who would understand events and would have some conception of the consequences of a return to Earth. In the end, the longstanding rule that minors could be extracted only with a parent or legal guardian was upheld. The return of these children to Earth would be no more tragic than the fate of untold numbers of young adults who were left behind when their parents were extracted. It was decided that parents would be strongly warned not to bring children to the moon until the adults had decided to become concubines. Any parents who brought children to the moon and then decided to go home would be allowed to do so.

1 Section 3 -- On Copernicus Station

Copernicus Station on the moon was chaotic. Sixty transporter pads were arrayed for a single extraction. At first a trickle and then a flood of humanity began appearing on the transporter pads. "Don't stop!" came loudly through the public address, over and over. "Look around you! Pre-packs and families, follow the green line! Women follow the pink line! Men follow the blue line! Keep moving!"

At the end of the blue line, the first forty men were counted off and led a short way by a woman in a dark blue uniform. When they reached a bank of five transporter pads, the uniformed woman stopped the procession. "Do any of you have an acute medical issue?" When none of the men spoke up, she continued. "We need to get this crush of people settled. You are about to be temporarily installed in living units. The AI, the artificial intelligence that controls the living unit, will give you a brief orientation. The AI will help you describe where we can find any of your dependents. The AI will see that you get food and drink if you want it and will answer your questions. We will call for you later to take the next step in the process. Until then, please cooperate by obeying instructions, moving quickly and quietly. The first five of you, count off." Five men stepped forward. The uniformed woman said, "Line up, side by side. The rest of you, line up behind the first five. Each of you in the front row, step on to the transporter pad in front of you. Second row, wait until the disk glows green before stepping onto it. Step away on the other side or the next man will run into you."

Another uniformed woman spoke to those remaining near the original transporter pads. "Listen up! Line up five abreast! Fall in line, any line! Stay there!" When the men had had some success in sorting themselves out, she barked, "The first eight rows, this way!" As she led them toward the bank of transporter pads, her explanation was much the same as that of her cohort. She and her group reached the pads just as the last of the first forty men disappeared. The second group of men, having watched the first group, were already aimed at the five transporter pads.

The first uniformed woman returned, barked at new arrivals to fall in line, and began to urge the entire phalanx of men forward while she loudly repeated her spiel. Five men at a time disappeared into the transporter pads. The few requiring medical treatment were redirected first to the medical bay.

Repeat, repeat, repeat.

1 Section 4 -- Women: initial briefing

"Welcome to your temporary quarters in Copernicus Station," intoned a pleasant female voice that seemed to come from everywhere at once. The women looked around unsuccessfully for the source of the voice. "I am the AI, the artificial intelligence responsible for this living unit. Please be seated and the orientation will commence."

The room contained two sofas facing each other and a love seat at one end, together forming a U-shaped seating area. As soon as the last woman sat down, the AI said, "It is assumed that not all of you know each other. Allow me to introduce you. Beginning nearest the door and moving clockwise, first is Kimberly Schmidt, Nina Ruiz, Rachel Milinavic, Sandy Young, Barbara Verduin, Gretchen Zalezny, Janice Oster, and Hattie King."

"How did you know that?" squawked Barbara.

"For safety and security, the AI can see, hear and otherwise sense everywhere in Copernicus Station, as the AI can on all Confederacy ships and colonies. On one hand, you have absolutely no privacy. You will be under observation at all times. Sponsors, volunteers and certain others may view activities live or at a later time. There is a record of every event. On the other hand, you are only moments away from emergency aid, should it be required. You, Barbara Verduin, are wearing a pale yellow blouse and brown pants. Your CAP card is in your right pants pocket. May we proceed?"

Although there was some murmuring and a few gasps, Barbara said, "Yes, please continue."

"It is preferred that you remain where you are during this session. Let me take a moment to explain that this living unit contains sleeping rooms, which would be configured for your needs, a full bathroom, and the kitchen and dining area that you see beyond you. None of you will be in this unit for very long. Your living unit will be identical to this one. If you must move about, you will be able to hear, but not see, this session. If you need food or drink, simply ask.

"Copernicus Station keeps time based upon Greenwich Mean Time, or GMT. You have been extracted from the Eastern Daylight Time zone. The time on Copernicus Station is now fourteen forty-three. It is ten forty-three a.m. Eastern Daylight Time. Until the dependent extractions are completed, it is important that you keep time on Eastern Daylight Time.

"Except for acute medical issues, which you told Sub-Decurion Baker that none of you have, the first priority is the extraction of any dependents you may have. The Confederacy cannot safely call on most public places to conduct dependent extractions. There is an unacceptable level of danger, not only for Confederacy personnel but also for extractees and bystanders.

"If you think that you may want to be returned to Earth, tell us and we will arrange for your minor dependents to be cared for on Earth until you make your decision. Please do not involve the minor children if you are uncertain right from the beginning. The minor children can wait up to twenty-four hours for you to make up your mind. Your children who are over age thirteen are considered to be adults. Any whom you bring to the moon will make their own decisions whether to proceed or to be returned to Earth.

"Non-fertile women in the office building were not allowed to come to the moon. Of the men extracted from the office building, those men whose CAP score is below 6.5 will not be allowed to bring minor dependents unless accompanied by their mother. You may not bring as your dependents the minor children of any man whose CAP score is below 6.5 unless the minor children are also accompanied by their mother. You may not bring as one of your dependents any woman who is not fertile.

"Please begin thinking of whom you wish extracted and the earliest place and time that the extraction can safely be conducted. Very shortly, you will be allowed one or two calls to facilitate this effort. Minor children are especially wanted on the colonies. Your dependents must be collected from only one location. Every adult must be in possession of a CAP card. It is recognized that most pickups will occur this evening. Please try to arrange pickup of your dependents as early as possible. Well before five o'clock would be preferred, but we will go later as needed. You will be escorted to the extraction site with two marines. You will be back with any extracted dependents within two minutes. If there is any disturbance, the extraction will be aborted.

"As you were told during your own extraction, wide latitude will be allowed in dependent extractions. The dependents can be adult or minor, related or not. This is both a boon and a handicap. Once in Copernicus Station, all adults have a choice whether to 'audition', if you will, for transport to a colony. All of you except Gretchen Zalezny will be concubines, should you choose to proceed. You should plan on four or five of you having a sponsor who is male, one or two of you having a female sponsor, and one of you having no sponsor at all until arrival at the colony.

"If your husband or boyfriend does not possess a CAP score at volunteer level, it is very probable that he will be returned to Earth. The same is true of your adult male children. If any of them is a volunteer, there is no assurance he will choose you as a concubine.

"All fertile adult females will be accepted. If you agree to become concubines, your extracted minor children will be with you. Minors will be extracted only if the parent or guardian is simultaneously extracted. Your adult children may or may not be placed in the same family group as you.

"You have nearly twenty four hours remaining before you must irrevocably decide whether you wish to continue in this process. Having loved ones nearby may aid you in your decision. Your many questions will be answered after we have organized the extraction of your dependents. A sound shield will be established around you in order that you each be able to communicate at the same time."

The air briefly shimmered around each of the eight women. "Rachel Milinavic, whom do you wish extracted, and where are they located?"

"I don't have any children, yet," said Rachel as she looked around at her peers. Almost all of them appeared to be talking, but Rachel could hear nothing. "My boyfriend isn't a volunteer. My sister has two small children. Her husband is a volunteer. I want them extracted. They always have dinner at six o'clock." She recited her sister's address and, when asked, her cell-phone number. Within moments, Rachel heard the sound of a phone ringing.

"Hello?" Rachel heard.

"Heidi, it's Rache! I've been extracted! I'm on the moon!" Heidi squealed excitement. "You and David and the kids can go too! Will you do it?"

Heidi was now screaming. "Get her settled down, please," intoned the AI.

"Heidi! Heidi! Get a grip!" Rachel said sharply. She heard her sister take a deep breath and let it out slowly but loudly. "The marines want to pick you up as early as possible. When is the soonest you can be ready?"

Heidi answered, "David is coming home today from a business trip. He won't be home until five o'clock at the earliest. We can be ready when he gets home. I'll call him to make sure he hurries."

"Then let's have the marines be at your house at six o'clock. Whoever is in your house then can go, unless it is a child without a parent."

"Rachel," said the AI, "if there is a hint of trouble, the marines will abort the extraction."

"Heidi, did you hear that?" asked Rachel.

"I didn't hear a thing," answered Heidi.

Rachel wondered how her sister could not hear such a strong voice. "Listen to me. Make sure all the people in your house are ones you trust with your life, Heidi. If there's any trouble, your extraction will be aborted. Also, there's no use bringing any adult males unless they're volunteers."

"Why is that?"

"They extracted all of the people in the entire building I work in -- everyone who was willing to go. They told us that almost all the males with CAP scores under 6.5 will be sent back to Earth."

"Oh," sighed Heidi. "That sucks, doesn't it?"

"It's their rules. Anyway, don't have a brain cramp, Heidi. Everyone needs to have their CAP card, or they can't go. Don't tell anyone why, but get people you trust to your home before six o'clock. I'll see you tonight!"

Heidi squealed again. The AI broke the connection. "The sound barrier will be lifted as each of you finishes her arrangements," said the AI. The air around Rachel shimmered again.

"Who can hear me?" asked Rachel.

"I can," answered the slender, coal-black girl.

"I'm Rachel. I forgot your name."

"Hattie King," she said brightly. "Who'd you get for dependents?"

"My sister, her volunteer husband, two kids, and maybe some of my sister's friends," said a grinning Rachel. "I hope she doesn't mess it up. I don't want them to abort the extraction. I really want my sister to be with me. Who'd you get?"

"My twin sister, Mattie, my other sister, Jayden, my mother and my brother Tyrone, even though his CAP score isn't high enough. Maybe he'll get lucky. No matter what, he deserves the chance, and the experience. He's a good boy ... well, man, now. He's fifteen. Momma's going to try to round up a few more. I told her she had to trust anyone she asked."

"Hattie and Mattie? Your mother must be cool! My sister and her tribe are getting picked up at six o'clock. They couldn't be ready any sooner. I can hardly wait!"

"The King pickup is at three o'clock," said Hattie. "I hope my momma can get everyone home in time."

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