Chapter 1

Over the next three months, the Jenkins family's dynamic changed. First Joyce gave birth to a boy she named Conrad. Then Bert earned a six point nine for his CAP score. Two days later, he hopped a ride with a freighter for the first leg of his journey to the Frikat System and assignment to an unspecified Marine Unit.

On the way home from Bert's going-away-party, Leslie and Theresa both went into labor. Within three minutes of each other, they brought Mitchell and April into the Jenkins clan respectively.

Saturday, Bill came to a realization. "Hobson," he called the house AI.

"Yes, Bill?"

"I need to get the other three women pregnant." Even though he sat in his study alone, that made Bill blush. "Could you have them drop some eggs?"

"For the next three days, all three women can be made fertile."

Exiting the study Bill bumped into Salome. Spinning her to face him, he cupped her ass, lifting her to kiss him. Fingers sought her crack. Salome wrapped her legs around Bill.

Bill turned toward the entryway of the lift. Salome wiggled, letting his fingers find their perch. Entering the clear tube, Bill sub-vocally was able to call for the top floor. He broke the kiss.

"Time for Katy to have a baby sist-" Bill never finished the sentence as Salome kissed him again. When the doors opened, he carried her into the upper bedroom. Bill placed Salome in the center of the bed.

Bill started to work down Salome's neck with little kisses, one after the other. Salome rolled, pushing him to her right. Rolling farther right, she ended up straddling his abdomen. Rising up onto her knees, she pulled his shirt up and began working it off his torso. She began kissing his chest once it was bare.

Salome quickly shed her own clothing. Bill's head was stuck in his shirt. He had forgotten to unbutton the top buttons. By the time he was free of the garment, Salome had resumed her position over his abs. Grinding her sex into his muscles produced shared giggles. Salome leaned down to kiss him again.

"Hold him down." Leslie's voice drifted into their awareness.

Bill's right foot was lifted and his shoe was removed. Soon the sock followed. A fingernail dragged along his ticklish sole. His left foot suffered through a similar process. Then his pants were loosened. Tugging at his waistband made him lift his butt from the bed to help with the clearance. As he lifted Salome, she goosed the sides of his rib cage. Leslie pulled his pants free. Bill dropped his butt to the bed. Bill's abs wore a basting of Salome's excitement.

"Now," Salome hiked herself up. Reaching between her legs, she found his cock head. Guiding it back and a little over to the right she nestled it in her opening. Pushing back, Salome engulfed Bill.

Shifting her hips, Salome began gyrating slowly. Her stomach rolled like a belly dancer's. She held Bill's hands to steady her assault.

Salome came down that evening for supper.

Leslie popped the question. "Where's Bill?"

"He's snoring away up on the fourth level." Salome grabbed one of the sandwiches on the platter. "Poor boy is all used up."

Picking up Mitchell, Leslie began to rock him slowly. "What did he do to deserve that kinda treatment?"

Looking at Mitchell, Salome patted her belly.

Leslie stopped bouncing the baby. "He didn't."

Salome only nodded. Leslie put Mitchell into the crook of her right arm and pulled Salome into a big hug. Tears flowed and reassuring kisses were exchanged.

Tiffany entered the room. "Is everything ok?"

Ray-ray heard the commotion and the shrieks of glee. He decided he would grab a bit to eat at the cafeteria on the way into the office that morning.

Once Ray-ray made it into the office that morning, he found himself steered into a meeting.

"Being a backwater colony makes it difficult to feel we are actively supporting the war effort." Governor Danvers paused. "I'll admit it weighs very heavily on my mind."

A two-meter holographic globe of their planet rose slowly in the middle of the table. The surface morphed from a realistic image into a landform map with beige land and blue water.

The Governor continued. "We are using these areas for our production or resource management." Each of the landmasses that supported the colony changed to blue. "As you can see," the globe lowered onto the table, "there is an island in the northern sea about the size of Montana." The island expanded to the edges of the table as the globe flattened out. "I have volunteered to host a special operations training base."

Sounds of discussions reverberated around the room, more in astonishment than in anger. A campus schematic arose from the southeast corner. It followed the standard battalion layout. Information began to appear around the base. A base company of a hundred and seventy men would maintain and operate the base. Four to six companies could be trained simultaneously. This would place up to one thousand marines on the island for the six or eight week course.

"Having a base comes with a set of responsibilities." The map of the island changed to display the main colony township. "I insisted on two things." Danvers pointed to a new cul-de-sac bordering on the central park. "The resident staff from the base will have a home here with us."

Ray-ray raised his hand. Danvers acknowledged him. "Ma'am, will they be willing to follow our rules?"

"As governor, I am in direct control of the colony. Marine police forces will be integrated with our department." Other buildings in and around the township began to appear. The school doubled in size. The community center grew in height and footprint. On the opposite side of the central park from the new military neighborhood, a larger neighborhood winked into existence.

The farming representative, Alistair McLeod, asked a question. "What are we doing there?" He pointed at the new neighborhood.

Danvers turned a bit pink as a flush rose to her cheeks. "Five thousand three hundred and seventeen new colony members," she took a breath. "Concubines assigned to our brothel and their children."

In place of the expected objections, she encountered silence. Brenda Polanski, the Artisan representative on the council, locked eyes with Marsha. Every man in the room, save Ray-ray, was blushing. The women began to giggle.

A man dressed as a Civil Service Decurion entered the room. Ray-ray recognized the man. He began to scan his memory. Joyce. Extraction. It came back to him. This was Andres Zucher. Before he could formulate a hello or wave, past training involving undercover personnel stopped him. Danvers acted as if she knew him. Wait and see. Ray-Ray believed Zucher deserved the latitude.

"Why do we need over five thousand unassigned concubines for no more than one thousand men?" Father Tomonaga's question redirected Ray-ray attention. Everyone looked at the governor.

"The majority of those are dependents." She waited, looking at the committee members, reading their faces. Searching for signs of how they felt about the implications. "We asked for volunteer concubines with children who would want to establish a more stable environment to raise their children."

"How," asked Brenda, "is being one of your 'volunteers' a better life?" Everyone looked, waiting for an answer.

"The majority of these women have lost their sponsor." That had little effect on the faces looking at her. "Only a few colonies have a well established civil service presence. Most unassigned concubines are warehoused, waiting to be chosen." That caused the committee to look at each other. "Yes, they will staff a brothel. They will also be our neighbors and part of our colony."

Alistair piped up. "Why house the brothel in the township? Why not at the base?"

"I want the brothel to also be our community center." Governor Danvers listened to silence, again.

Something about changing diapers proved to be calming. Jake snapped the onesie closed. Maggie reached toward her dad. His wives Kimi and Naomi smiled as he lifted his daughter.

"Give her to me, Jake." Kimi took the bundle, swaying her away. "Confession starts in thirty minutes." Jake placed a kiss on both his wife and daughter, before heading to the lift. "Your vestments are in your study."

"Thank you, my sweet." He walked toward the door leading from the rectory to his study.

Naomi met him at the door, providing another kiss.

Jake exited the hallway to the private garden. He wove his way around the flowering bushes. He had to do a few things. First, he needed his erection to dissipate. Then he began to pray. Seventeen hundred and fifty unassigned concubines would soon call Wayward home. Moreover, he, Father Tomonaga would soon become the Master of a bordello.

Figuratively, this was not a 'pass this cup' prayer. It fell into the category of 'give me the strength.' How could he make the living conditions 'livable?'

Father figures; the answer was father figures. Before he had finished his third year in the seminary, he once had worked with a surrogate father group in Elba Heights. The major problem with Dads on Call back on Earth would instead be the norm here. On Earth, one stable man was the surrogate father for six to eight families. Out in the Confederacy, a stable 'normal' home had one father figure with three to five women.

"Lilith."

The AI of his quarters and the church spoke from the floor. "Yes, Jake." Her voice was both deep and sultry.

"What research do we have for surrogate parents?"

"Jake, you have fathered two healthy children. Why do you need a surrogate?"

He chuckled a moment. Rarely did he catch an AI working out of context. "No, I was thinking about father figures for children who do not have one."

"The research compiled by various groups leads me to conclude that surrogate fatherhood has possibilities, but is limited by the character of the surrogate."

"What would be the optimum ratio of concubine families to such a surrogate?"

"There is no optimum ratio. The surrogate and families involved would vary depending on individual dynamics."

"Then let's speculate." He paused, waiting for Lilith to judge if she had enough parameters to proceed.

The upper level students were designing underground Swarm hives, trying to follow the Kutuzov Soft Strata Theory. No two Swarm warrens were the same. There were similarities in layout but analysis of the differences by Mikhail Kutuzov's Strategic Advisory Group pointed to following the path of least delay when constructed. This required the students to synthesize observation reports with subsurface scans from the Darjee knowledgebase. A rumor was circulating that the Marines were seeking to establish a "Tunnel Rat" training facility in the arctic mountain range near the north pole.