Chapter 1

“What’s this!” Sub-Decurion Driscoll exclaimed. “The sign says ‘Juvenile Correctional Facility’. We’re not recruiting juveniles.”

“Don’t worry,” Deputy Kaye explained as he drove in through the gates. “The sign is an old one from before the age of majority changed. The city didn’t want to pay for a new sign, so the old one’s still there. All the women we have for you to talk to are fourteen to eighteen. At least that’s what they tell us.”

“Can’t you check their CAP cards?”

“Most we can, the others claim to have lost them. That might even be true for some of them.”

The deputy drew the car up in front of the main entrance. Claudia thanked him and got out, followed by the two Marines who had been sitting silently in the back.

Brianna wondered what was happening. They’d been told to assemble in the Dining Hall, though it wasn’t a meal time. Were they going to show another stupid movie about how drugs were bad for you? Like she didn’t know already. That or a preacher telling them how Jesus could save then. Though some of the preachers could put on a good show, better than a boring movie.

She didn’t have a choice about going; everyone fourteen and over they said, so here she was. Whatever, at least she was sitting next to Kenisha. If it was a movie and they dimmed the lights they could hold hands. They both preferred men, but with no men around...

They were both black and both seventeen. Kenisha was two months older and a lot heavier. Brianna’s tits were smaller, but didn’t sag as much. Kenisha’s were nice and soft to play with, she liked that. She was good with her tongue as well; she’d taught Brianna a few new tricks.

Brianna’s thoughts were interrupted by the door opening. What the fuck! Two huge guys in green uniforms came in: Confederacy Marines! She’d seen some outside CAP testing centers. She’d not gone in of course. Everyone said that a CAP card had GPS in it so the Confederacy could tell where you were if you had it with you. With the things she’d been doing, having people know where you were was a very bad idea. Hidden behind the two big green Marines – one was a woman – was a second woman, black and ordinary size, though she looked tiny against the two giants. She was in gray, not green. That probably meant something, but she didn’t know what. This obviously wasn’t one of the no-drugs or yes-Jesus things she’d been expecting.

The first Marine put a small loudspeaker on the table in front of the gray woman, then the two Marines stood back a little and stared round the room looking fierce. The gray woman started speaking, “Can you all hear me?”

Her voice was coming from the speaker on the table. It was loud enough for everyone to hear clearly, even towards the back.

“Right. I’m Sub-Decurion Claudia Driscoll of the Confederacy Civil Service and I’m here recruiting whores...”

That set off a murmuring in her audience. Brianna looked at Kenisha, who shrugged. She obviously didn’t know where this was going either.

“That’s why I came here to do my recruiting. Some of you already know the work, others of you can learn it if you want to. The deal we’re offering is this. If we think you’re suitable we’ll put you to work for a few months. You won’t be street-meat; you’ll be off the streets in one of our brothels here on Earth. Your customers will be from Earth – guys we haven’t extracted yet. After you’ve worked long enough to earn your passage we’ll ship you out to a colony as a concubine.

“This isn’t an ordinary extraction. If we accept you on this deal, then you have to work for us here on Earth. We don’t do ordinary extractions from prisons ... sorry, ‘Juvenile Correctional Facilities’, so this is your only chance until you finish your sentence. The downside is that you’ll have to spend a few months on your back entertaining the customers. The upside is that we promise to take you off Earth. No need to run around trying to find a pickup to get yourself extracted. First you work, then you go. Guaranteed.

“If you have any children under the limit then we’ll take them as well, provided you have legal custody. We’ll only take you if you want to go, of course, and we don’t take everyone. If your CAP score is too low, we won’t take you...”

Brianna was thinking. She didn’t have a CAP score because she’d avoided taking a CAP test; all she had was a fake card. From talking to people who did have scores she thought she’d do OK – these Confederacy people would test her first for sure. Being a whore ... yeah, she’d done that. She even enjoyed it some of the time and being in a proper brothel would be a lot safer than working the streets. Everyone said the Confederacy didn’t do drugs. She was mostly clean – difficult to get drugs in here. Not impossible, but difficult for sure. The drugs helped, but everyone said that life in the Confederacy was easier than on the streets: free food and free rent. Maybe she wouldn’t need the drugs so much? At least there would be men. No men in here, and she had some itches that Kenisha’s tongue couldn’t scratch.

The Confederacy woman was still talking. “Like I said you’ll be working in a brothel, which gives you security. Anyone who causes trouble will get to meet our bouncers.” She pointed at the two big Marines. “That includes you. If you’re the one causing the trouble then you’ll be the one meeting the bouncers, and they won’t be friendly like they are today.”

Friendly? Brianna didn’t think the two Marines looked friendly. Neither of them had even cracked a smile. That matched what she’d heard; if you stepped out of line, then the Confederacy handed you your ass. Working in a brothel would be better than hooking on the streets though. She might enjoy life in Nevada. All that sunshine, if she ever got time off to see it.

“We have an agreement with the city here,” the gray woman went on, “so we’ll move you out of the State after we accept you. That way the city will be rid of you and you won’t see any people you know from round here. That might be good or bad, depending ... If you really want we can move you to Canada, or if your Spanish is good enough to Mexico. Most of you will be somewhere in the US though.”

Mom was dead; Brianna had never met her dad – one of mom’s johns. Her brother – half-brother really – was in the US Navy last she heard. She had a few friends outside, but none worth turning this offer down for. Her best friend in here was Kenisha, who she’d definitely miss. Though if Kenisha went for this offer as well then they might still be together. That would be nice if they could pull it off.

The gray woman was still speaking. “We’ll give everyone we accept a medical check and we’ll cure whatever is wrong with you. We won’t turn you into an Instagram star though. Our customers want a range of looks to pick from: some plump, some thin and some in between, not all identical Barbie dolls.

“So that’s our deal: bed, board and medical in one of our brothels. You work there for a few months and then we’ll ship you out to a colony. Out there you’ll be on the usual concubine deal: do what you’re told, sex with your sponsor and lots of babies.

“Now, it’s decision time. If you want to accept our offer and you have your CAP card, see Private Mendoza.” She pointed at the woman Marine. “Remember that we don’t accept everyone. If your CAP score is 3.5 then don’t get your hopes up.

“If you don’t have your CAP card with you then see Private Unger,” she pointed at the other Marine. “We’ll test you before we decide. If you have any questions then come and talk to me. And lastly, those of you who don’t want any part of this deal can leave.”

Brianna had decided; she was going, so she’d get tested. Even when she was out of here the kind of places she hung in didn’t have Confederacy pickups, so this could be her only chance. The Swarm had already landed, so it would be dumb not to try and get off Earth. The Confederacy had a reputation for being tough, but those aliens would for sure be tougher. She asked Kenisha, “You goin’?”

“Yeah. Stupid to stay, and there will be men. I wonder how big those Marines’ dicks are? I’ve heard stories...”

“Me too. Twelve inches and up, some say. Might be fun,” Brianna grinned.

Kenisha got up and joined the line to show her card to the woman Marine. Brianna knew her friend had a 4.8; that should be enough to get her accepted. Maybe they could get to work in the same place? That would be good.

Private Unger told the no-card people to sit and wait quietly. Up close it was very obvious that he was not the sort of guy you argued with. A couple of women had left their cards in their cells, so one of the guards escorted them out to retrieve them. Brianna’s fake card was hidden in her cell; there was no way it would pass a proper check so she left it there.

On the other side of the room the second Marine was using some small machine, like a cellphone, to look at CAP cards. About a third of the women she told to step forward and they disappeared, a Confederacy transporter Brianna thought. Kenisha disappeared when her turn came. That had to mean she’d been accepted.

The other two-thirds the woman Marine sent away, like Maureen. That bitch was so dumb she couldn’t even find her own ass with both hands, so no surprise the Confederacy didn’t want her. She turned down Lucia as well. A good move that; Lucia seemed OK until she lost her temper, then all hell broke loose! Obviously her CAP card must have shown that. Turning her down set her off of course and she started shouting and screaming. When she picked up a chair ready to start smashing things, or people, the Marine pulled out a sidearm and shot her. Not a gun – it made a different sound, a sort of loud buzzing – and Lucia collapsed in a heap. “She’ll have a hell of a headache when she wakes up,” the Marine explained. “You and you...” she pointed, “ ... drag her off to the side and leave her.” Paula and Clarisse obeyed, quickly. Yeah, those stories about the Confederacy not taking any shit were true. That must have been one of those stingers Brianna had heard about. If it gave Lucia a headache like the Marine said, then best to avoid her for a few days.

With Lucia as an example, things went quietly and smoothly after that. The black woman in gray – did she say Claudia at the start? – finished answering people’s questions and came over to the no-card group.

“Find any sponsors, sir?” Private Unger asked.

“Not this time. Two in the low sixes, but no sponsors.”

She faced the waiting prisoners. “Obviously, we can’t accept you without a CAP score, but we aren’t rejecting you either. We’ll test you first and then decide, OK?” They all nodded. “If you don’t want to be tested then leave now.” Nobody left. “Good. First, we’ll transport you to a testing center. If we accept you then we’ll send you out of state, like I said. If we reject you, then we’ll send you back to a local Confederacy office and hand you over to the city police. Clear?” Again, everyone nodded. “One word of warning, the Confederacy has very good lie detectors. If you lie to us about anything we’ll know it. So don’t lie to us, that just shows you’re stupid as well as a liar.”

Brianna could believe that. Confederacy tech was good so it figured that their lie detectors were good as well.

Private Unger lined them up ready to step onto the transporter disc on the floor. “When it goes green walk forward and keep going. Do whatever you’re told on the other side,” he told them. It turned green. Rochelle was first in the line; she stepped forward and disappeared.

Brianna staggered getting off the transporter. Suddenly she was in a different room and it caught her unawares. As she recovered from her almost-fall she looked around. The walls were cleaner than the prison, but still dull. Two new Marines were waiting for her and only four of her fellow no-carders. Where were the others?

The Marines ordered them into single file. One led off with the second Marine following the five prisoners. Brianna decided that they were still prisoners, at least until the Confederacy accepted them. Some boring corridors and into a room with a few pictures, some chairs and an ordinary size man in a gray uniform behind a desk. So far both the people in gray were normal size. Once they were all in the room the gray man spoke: “Follow Private Goddard who’ll show you to the test cubicles.”

The lead Marine took them through a door into a short corridor with five doors off. That explained why there were only five of them here, only five test cubicles. The others must have been sent somewhere else for their tests. Good that, it saved hanging around waiting.

The small test room was dimly lit. Brianna lay on the couch, it was really comfortable, and waited.

“State your name please,” a woman’s voice asked. She was alone in the room, so it had to be one of those Confederacy computers. The prison guards didn’t say please.

“Brianna Lee.”

“Your age?”

“I’m seventeen.” Then she remembered the gray woman’s warning about lying and hastily added, “ ... about seventeen anyways.”

“You are uncertain about your age?” the voice asked.

“Momma wasn’t so sure when I was born. She told different people different dates.”

“Why did she do that?”

“Don’t know for sure. Maybe to get us more Welfare or she’d forgot.”

“What birth-date do you wish to use?”

“August eighth. Easy to remember: 8/8,” she explained.

“Very well. Your developmental age will be checked for consistency during the test.”

“Developmental?” Brianna didn’t recognize the word.

“How much you have grown.”

“OK.”

“Now please relax for the test.”

Brianna began to doze. The couch was really comfortable.

“Thank you Brianna Lee. The test is now complete. Please return to the reception area.”

What! Complete? Funny sort of test she thought, she’d just been dozing and dreaming. All she could remember was rescuing a dog and a baby from a sinking boat, and that was fading as she thought about it.

The Marines weren’t there any more, just the guy in gray. Seeing him a second time, he looked short; definitely not tall. None of her fellow volunteers either. When she asked, the man told her that her test had taken longer than the others so she was the last one out.

“What did I score?”

He looked at a small screen in front of him. “Congratulations, you got 6.2.” There was a soft ping, and he pulled a real CAP card from a small slot in the wall behind him. “Here’s your card.”

Brianna looked at the 6.2 on the front of her new card. That had to be a good score. Surely they wouldn’t reject her. “Is that good enough to be accepted?” she asked.

“Accepted?” He looked puzzled, pausing with a distant look in his eyes. “Ah, you’re in the brothel recruitment program. I don’t know for sure, but probably yes. That’s a good score.”

She felt relief at that. She’d get off Earth!

The gray man told her, “Next you have a short interview. You’ll need a Marine escort so please sit and wait. She sat and waited for a minute or two, looking at her new card and smiling. She’d done good! That hadn’t happened very often in her life so far.

The other one of the two Marines, not Private Goddard, turned up and took her back to the transporter room where she’d arrived. “Step onto the transporter and keep walking. They’re expecting you.”