Chapter 1: The Ship

Master Sergeant Frank Taylor snapped to attention in front of the major’s desk. “Reporting as ordered, sir!” Two metres tall and very solidly built, with the standard enhanced Confederacy Marine body. Dark blond hair cut short in a military style and clean-shaven, he looked every inch the veteran soldier he was.

“Sit down Sergeant.” The major waited until Frank had seated himself. “You’re due to return home shortly at the end of your current tour?”

“Yes, sir.”

“We have arranged shipping to get you back, however that also involves some news I have for you. I’m not sure whether you’ll consider it good news or bad news. You’re being given a temporary promotion to O-1 level.”

“I’m temporarily promoted to Ensign, sir?”

“Not Ensign, you’re being temporarily promoted to Signifer.”

“Signifer? But that’s a Civil Service rank, sir!” Frank replied heatedly. “I’m a Marine, not Civil Service. There must have been a mistake.”

“I’m well aware that you’re a Marine, but I can assure you there has been no mistake. We have a temporary need for some of your particular skills. You were in East Africa for a time, before being extracted, were you not?”

“Yes I was, sir.”

“Then I suggest that you brush up on your Swahili,” the Major advised. “You’ll be needing it.”

“May I ask why, sir?”

“Have you heard of the Kindertransport program, Signifer?”

Kindertransport. Yes, Frank had certainly heard of the Kindertransport program and his heart sank. “Oh no, sir! I’m not going to have to babysit a shipload of women and children am I?”

“I’m afraid so, Signifer. You will be returning home to Wallerat on a Kindertransport ship. We can’t send unattached concubines to the colonies without a Civil Service Officer on each ship to keep the AIs happy. Since we don’t have enough CSOs available, we are using temporary promotees, such as yourself, to fill the gap. Still there are compensations. There will be almost four hundred female concubines on board, all assigned to you during the journey.”

“Well, I suppose that’s a thought, sir.”

“You’ll have the usual ship’s complement of Marines to help you, though you won’t be in direct command of course.”

“No, sir.” Frank well understood the niceties of inter-service cooperation. Did the Civil Service count as a branch of the military? Even if it didn’t, it was close enough for Government work.

“I believe you already know Sergeant Briscoe? She’ll be in command of the Marine detachment on board.”

“I do, sir. I don’t foresee any problems there.”

“Good. Carry on, Signifer,” the major smiled.

By the time he go back to his quarters, Frank’s anger had begun to subside. He was a Marine! The Civil Service was practically civilian, not at all what he wanted to do. He wanted to fight the Swarm not deal with hundreds of screaming kids. Since he was obviously stuck with this job, even if only temporarily, he decided to make the best of it. When a Marine received an order, the correct response was, ‘Yes sir,’ and to carry out the order successfully.

He queried the AI in his quarters for background information on his new assignment, “What can you tell me in general about my work as a CSO on a Kindertransport ship?”

“What details do you wish to know, sir?”

“Don’t call me s...” Frank stopped abruptly, cutting off his usual response. An NCO was not called ‘sir’, but an officer was. “Sorry, I’m not used to being an officer.”

“No need to apologise, sir. You are an officer.”

Had the AI just made a very dry joke? Could AIs make jokes? He decided to put the question aside; it was probably unanswerable. “Start by telling me about my quarters.”

“You will have your own pod, sir. The lower level will have a normal configuration with a main room, an office, your bedroom with en-suite bathroom, a kitchen and two concubines’ bedrooms with a smaller shared bathroom for their use. The upper level will have a non-standard configuration, with two small suites for other sponsors, three punishment cells, a small bathroom and unused space for expansion.”

That description puzzled Frank. “Why do I need space for concubines? All mine are back on Waller. I don’t have any of them with me here.”

“Since you do not have any of your own concubines accompanying you, sir, you will have two temporary concubines assigned to you personally for the duration the voyage. That allows us to extract two more women from Earth, making more efficient use of the shipping space available. Both concubines will come from the pool of non-motherly concubines who are unsuitable for looking after seven dependants during the voyage.”

At least his temporary concubines wouldn’t have a gaggle of children in tow. Getting snowed under by a crowd of kids he didn’t know wasn’t his idea of relaxation, there were already enough youngsters back home on Waller. “Good. I don’t want to have to share with a bunch of strangers’ kids. When to I get to pick these two concubines?”

“They will be selected for you, sir. They could be drawn from a moon base or one of the Kindertransport Collection Camps. The logistics and time required for you to select them in person would be prohibitive. We will use CAP scores and observed characteristics to determine compatibility. Most officers in your position have expressed satisfaction with the choice provided. Your two personal concubines will arrive on board shortly before departure, sir.”

“So, I don’t get a choice then?” Frank complained.

“No, sir.”

“We’ll have to see about that.” He wasn’t sure about having to live with two strange concubines for the voyage. Still, it seemed that there wasn’t much he could do about it. If things got really bad he could always order them to stay out of his way. “What about the two sponsor suites on the upper level?” he asked. “I thought all the Kindertransport women were concubines.”

“They are, sir. The two suites are primarily intended for newly tested fourteen-year-old sponsors. A Kindertransport ship carries about 150 thirteen-year-olds. Typically, three of them will turn fourteen each week and take their first CAP test. A few of them may test as sponsors, so the suites are available for use by new sponsors who do not wish to continue living in their assigned pod.”

Doing some quick mental arithmetic Frank said, “150 seems a bit low, shouldn’t there be more thirteen-year-olds than that?”

“The eleven- twelve- and thirteen-year-old age cohorts are all reduced in numbers because dependent males with low CAP estimates are not extracted, but stay behind on Earth for later conscription into local armies. At those ages there are approximately twice as many girls as boys on board. The younger age cohorts are larger, each containing around two hundred dependants, sir.”

That sounded good to Frank because it showed some foresight by the people running the Kindertransport programme. There were already enough low-CAP young men in the colonies, without adding more. Perhaps this assignment wouldn’t be the complete cluster-fuck he expected from most civilian plans.

“And the punishment cells?”

“They allow for the temporary removal of a troublesome concubine from her assigned pod, sir. They are small and Spartan, with severely restricted access to resources.”

“So, that covers my accommodation, what about my work?” Frank asked.

“As CSO, you will deal with any issues involving concubines and resolve them, sir. Matters of concubine discipline are also included in your job description. You are further tasked with offering initial briefings to new concubines and sponsors following CAP tests during the journey. The ship’s crew and Marine detachment will do most of the routine work, though you might be asked to help at busy times. That might, for example, involve escorting a concubine to and from medical.”

“What about pregnancies and childbirth?”

“There are no planned births, sir. Any pregnant female who is too close to term is held on Earth or in the Moon until after she has given birth. In the unlikely event of an emergency, there is sufficient medical capacity on board available. All that is normally required on board are ante-natal checks; usually fortnightly for concubines and weekly for dependants.”

“There are pregnant dependants?” That was an unexpected surprise to Frank. In the Confederacy sex with under-age girls was very severely punished and hence extremely rare.

“Yes, sir. On most Kindertransport ships, a few of the twelve- and thirteen-year-old girls are pregnant. Some have had lovers or husbands while others were raped.”

Frank kicked himself for not realising. These girls had only recently entered the Confederacy. A few weeks ago they were living in the areas of Earth affected by the Swarm invasion of Africa. He’d been extracted ten years ago and had become used to Confederacy standards. The situation on Earth was different, especially in Africa where the Sa’arm were advancing. In the Diaspora, under-age pregnancies were unheard of. He was a little shocked to realise how far his assumptions had changed.

“Do I get any training for this?”

“A sleep-learning refresher course in Swahili is available, sir. There are some basic Civil Service course materials on dealing with large groups of concubines and there is much advice, in various formats, from other Civil Service Officers. The bulk of that advice applies to planetside tasks or to normal colony transports, so is not always relevant to your particular situation.”

“Sort through it for me and pull out anything that looks like it will be useful. How long to I have to get ready? When is the ship due to arrive in orbit?”

“The Aurora class transport Sadi Carnot is due in Earth orbit in three days, sir, and will load that same day. It departs soon after it completes loading.”

Frank boarded the Sadi Carnot wearing his new grey Civil Service uniform. He didn’t feel right in it – he much preferred Marine green – but he’d only have to wear it for the one journey.

He was pleasantly surprised when he saw the interior of his new pod. Ten years ago his old pod was an awful grey colour. This pod had white ceilings, cream walls and light-brown floors. Not cutting-edge interior design by any means, but much more pleasant that the horrible all-grey he had anticipated.

The AI explained, “The interior of this pod is decorated as specified by the CSO on the ship’s previous voyage. The colours can be changed if you require, sir.”

“No, leave it as it is. I’ll only be using it for this single trip.”

He dumped his kitbag in the master bedroom. During his current deployment he had managed to pick up a some small craft items from Earth: jewellery, carvings and suchlike. Items that were individually hand-made, not from a replicator, would command a premium in the colonies. He’d had to take care what he chose. With replicators available on Earth, some of the ‘hand made’ items he’d been offered weren’t.

Seeing the large bed reminded him, “When do my two new concubines arrive?”

“They will board immediately after the main loading has completed, sir, once the transporter is free. Also, Captain Williams wishes to meet Sergeant Briscoe and yourself in fifteen minutes in her quarters.”

Captain Williams looked about thirty, with her black hair tightly tied back in a bun. Of course it was no longer possible to tell people’s ages by their appearance. In the Diaspora apparent age was chosen, not determined by calendar age. As with the captain, age was often used as an indicator of authority. With each step in rank, people tended to increase their apparent age. Frank had done that himself; on promotion to Master Sergeant he had increased his apparent age to late twenties. He wondered if that would survive in the future. People who had grown up on Earth expected authority figures to look older. Perhaps the children of the Diaspora would not have that same expectation since most people, especially concubines, now appeared to stop ageing once they reached their early twenties.

The rank badges on the captain’s blue Fleet Auxiliary uniform indicated that she was a Commander. Frank hadn’t met her before, though he already knew the third person in the room, Sergeant Kate Briscoe, the senior Marine on board. The captain organised the ship into its two halves, with Frank assisting Corporal Lawrence in supervising the forward half and Kate supervising the stern half. Each could call on the other for more help if needed. Frank would not actually be commanding half of the Marine detachment, but Kate promised to tell Corporal Lawrence to listen very carefully to any ‘suggestions’ he might make. Having been enhanced to the standard Marine height of two metres, Frank would probably need less help from the Marines than some unenhanced Civil Service Officers might. He would, naturally, be dealing with concubine related issues for both halves of the ship.

“Anything you want to add, Signifer?” the captain asked Frank.

“At the risk of teaching you both to suck eggs, yes,” Frank replied. “One of the points emphasised in my Civil Service briefing materials was that these concubines are here as mothers, to look after the children. They aren’t a field brothel for either Marines or crew. Reading between the lines, I think there were a few problems in the early days of the programme, before things settled down.” The Captain winced at that. Presumably his speculation was correct.

Captain Williams agreed. “My crew have done Kindertransport missions before and they know the concubines are off-limits except in special circumstances.”

Kate pointed out, “A couple of my guys are looking for extra concubines. They may want to ask for a test drive if they see someone who suits, sir.”

“That’s fine, Sergeant,” Frank agreed. “Just tell them to come to me first, before asking her. They can try out a reasonable number, but I don’t want someone testing half the women on board.”

“If they do, then let me know, sir, and I’ll jump on them from a great height.”

Kate had nothing more to add. Finally, the captain had a further order for Frank, “I’ve had a request from Centurion Mark Robertson, the Civil Service chief on Waller. He wants you to write a report of your experiences on the journey: what happened and what you did about it. He’s particularly interested in the things that worked, and the things that didn’t. He thinks it will help future Kindertransport CSOs get a handle on what to expect and how to react. Like yourself, some of them will be on a temporary promotion without any Civil Service background.”

“I’ll do that, sir. I can see how it would be useful in future.” He had read three similar reports in the material the AI had picked out for him to study. One seemed pretty much useless, but the other two looked to have some helpful ideas and suggestions.

Following the meeting, their immediate task was loading the women and their dependent children. Both the crew and the Marine detachment had done this before and were well used to it. The idea was to spend as little time near Earth as reasonable and get away quickly. There was no point in providing the Swarm with target practice, especially after loading the ship.

Frank was waiting with Corporal Lawrence in the ship’s forward transporter room when the passengers started to arrive. They had obviously been practising because it went a lot more smoothly than he’d expected from a bunch of civilians. When the first woman emerged from the transporter, a crew member confirmed her pod assignment and led her off to the correct ring. The other fifteen pod loads for that ring followed in a long crocodile, with short gaps separating the groups. One crewman stayed by the transporter, directing the new arrivals through the correct hatch, while more crew led the long lines to their new homes. The AI helped by displaying coloured markers above the hatches to the three rings in this half of the ship.

As Frank watched the stream of concubines and children emerging from the transporter, something about the way the mothers looked niggled him. Obviously these women hadn’t been enhanced, so their sizes and shapes were much more variable than the products of Confederacy med-tubes and sponsor’s fantasies, but it wasn’t that. Coming from East Africa they were all black, but it wasn’t that either. There was something else different about then. It didn’t seem immediately important, so he filed it away for later.

Inevitably, with so many children there were a few younger ones running around excitedly and getting out of line, but there were spare crew and Marines available to handle them. Seeing that things were running smoothly, Frank even captured one errant little girl himself. She looked about three or four years old, and was wandering around with her thumb in her mouth, looking round-eyed at all the strange new things in the transporter room. Squatting down to put himself on her level, he asked her, “And which pod are you from, little thing?”

“I’m Bisho,” she told him, taking her thumb out of her mouth. “I’m green hut.”

“The green hut?” he asked. She nodded silently. “Do you know which number green hut, Bisho?”

“Green hut,” she insisted, obviously having reached the limits of her knowledge. She put her thumb back in her mouth temporarily terminating her part in the conversation.

The AI, recognising his problem, informed him through his internal link, «Pod Green Eleven, sir.» Frank silently thanked it for the information.

Addressing his small charge, he told her, “Well, Bisho, we’d better go and find the green hut so you can see all your friends again.”

She smiled, nodded and said, “Friends.” As Frank stood up, she reached out and took his hand, her thumb still damp. They walked together, hand in hand, towards the green ring.

As they walked Frank silently contacted the AI, «Notify the head concubine in Green Eleven that Bisho is on her way.»

«Affirmative, sir.»

When the pair of them reached Green Eleven, the hatch opened and they could see a concubine, wearing her grey shift, waiting just inside. Frank got a big smile and a childish kiss from Bisho as his reward, while the little girl herself got a telling off from the concubine. “No sweet for you Bisho. You didn’t follow the rest of us like you should, so you’ve missed the sweets.”

As he arrived back in the transporter room, they were beginning to load the blue ring. There were only fifteen pods to fill in that ring, because Frank himself occupied pod Blue One. Once the group for Blue Sixteen was through, there was a short pause while the technician reset the transporter. It activated again and two African women, both in the usual grey concubine shifts, arrived: his two temporary concubines. One older, looking about thirty, and one younger, about fourteen or fifteen he thought. Knowing that the ship was leaving soon after completing loading, he quickly led them off to his pod to clear the transporter room.

Once there he introduced himself, “I’m Signifer Frank Taylor. You two are my temporary concubines for this trip. I already have my allocation of concubines at home, so I’m not your permanent owner. You’ll find yourselves a proper sponsor once we get to our destination on Waller.”

The older woman was Afiya: thirty-one, unmarried, childless and with an outgoing personality. Looking at her CAP sub-scores later, Frank could see that her parenting score was well below average. That explained why she was in with the non-motherly concubines and not looking after seven children in one of the other pods. Her intelligence score was very good, well above average, as were her sex and leadership scores. Frank suspected that they could have some fun together before being parted on arrival at Waller. She was average height, but thin and spare. She seemed to have a lot of nervous energy to burn, a contrast to his other temporary concubine, who was more placid.

The younger woman, Masika, was fourteen and had only been a concubine for a few weeks. She was much quieter than Afiya and didn’t talk a great deal. Her CAP sub-scores were the reverse of Afiya’s; her sexual response and leadership scores were low, while her mothering potential score was high. What she lacked was experience. She certainly couldn’t have coped with looking after seven younger kids during the voyage, she would have barely been older than some of them herself. In future she would probably become a very good mother, but she wasn’t ready yet to jump in at the deep end. She needed time to learn, for preference in a family with an experienced mother. She had the build for motherhood: big breasts, already starting to sag, and definitely thickening round her hips and thighs.