Chapter 14

Incoming (TY13-month 148)

“Greetings and welcome to Tara. I’m Deputy Niall Cho, commander of Fort Butler Base and the Oliver Transitional Home,” I said to the gathering. There were some twenty or twenty-five concubines and nearly a hundred children in the room, but they were all absolutely silent. “I’m talking to you in small groups rather than gathering all the incoming refugees in a big hall. I understand some of you are not comfortable even in a group this size, so I’ll make this as quick as possible so you can get to your quarters.” There was no move or acknowledgment of my statement. I sighed and plunged ahead.

“First off, none of you are expected to go out and find a new sponsor. If somewhere along the line you happen to cross paths with one and make an agreement, no one will object. The same is true if you strike up a relationship with another concubine—male or female. Some of you are already in a relationship and we won’t separate you unless you request it. You won’t be expected to have children for at least two years. I know there are some in your group who have borne a child every year since you were picked up. You might be worn out. Returning you to fertility after two years will be done only after a consultation with you. We have counselors who will help you and will not force anyone into breeding.” Still only stares at me, though I saw one or two women rub their stomachs.

“We believe the best way for you to become adjusted to life on Tara is to participate in it. During your first two years here, you will be given specific jobs to do, you will continue your education and child-rearing responsibilities, and you will be trained in self-defense and combat. This training has two purposes. The first is to give you confidence. There will be no reason you need to fear any person. Second is because everyone on Tara is part of the defense of our planet. Eventually, every concubine will be capable of participating in the defense of our children and our homes. At the end of your two years of training, you will have a regular job to do that will be well-suited to your character and talents. If you wish to do so, you may volunteer to continue in the Militia and earn not only your freedom, but your citizenship. I wish Tara’s blessings on all of you and welcome you to our family.”

They stood up silently and left the room, escorted to their new residences in the apartment complex. Not every group was silent and cowed. Some were almost violent and angry. Most, however, responded to my message with acceptance, whether enthusiastic or resigned.

Over the course of a week, I greeted five hundred orphaned concubines and two thousand dependents. Each night I went home and my concubines and children comforted me.

No matter how the refugee concubines felt about physical labor, it seemed the majority were enthusiastic about combat training. They had seen Earth invaded and overrun by the Swarm. The earlier refugees lost their sponsors who did battle while the concubines and dependents were loaded on refugee ships and sent away. At first there had been hope that their sponsors would survive the battle and come for them. That hope faded fast. The combat training went a long way toward relieving some of the stress and PTSD as they began to get comfortable with their ability to defend themselves. The physical labor—really, just having the responsibility of a job assignment, even if it was a job babysitting—helped the later refugees. Having a dependable routine in which they weren’t randomly ordered to pull a train or threatened with physical alterations as a form of discipline was a huge relief for the former DECO concubines.

Classes in Taekwondo and other martial arts helped reinforce that feeling. I taught two advanced classes a week. I no longer went to Drovers Run. The classes were taught at Fort Butler and the students came from all the bases. I also led daily forms in the school for dependents. I was especially pleased with the number of young dependents who wanted to learn. I had three assistant masters who were teaching classes in the school every day. I was proud of the progress these kids were making and attended all the advanced testing.

The pulse rifles from Pussy Pirates were very popular. A few households had brought rifles and VR helmets with them as they had played the game at home. Of course, none of our rifles were charged. They were used with the VR helmets with which we trained. Rhett had budded a gaming AI to control the training and it had expanded to include terrain and scenarios from different places on the planet. Our base training area was over a kilometer square and we often had teams competing with each other.

We were essentially a labor force working on public projects like the harbor or building the refugee center. But we also took our defense training seriously. We couldn’t lose sight of the fact that we were the last line of defense should there ever be a landing on our planet. With only 800 in our entire service, that looked pretty weak, but we’d grow—hopefully enough to defend ourselves and our planet if the time ever came. The concubines entering mandatory service doubled our workforce overnight. And they actually trained harder than our sponsor counterparts who all had to put in two weeks of training a year. We did four or five days of training every month. The sponsors, however, outnumbered the Militia nearly a hundred to one. I guess that meant they couldn’t hide behind us.

A Family Way (TY13-month 149)

“Niall, it’s time,” Rose said, nudging me awake.

“Time to get up already? Seems I just fell asleep.”

“Time for the baby.”

“Baby?” Maybe my slowness at waking up was why I wasn’t a sponsor. Wait... “Baby! We need to get you over to the med tube.”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you, silly. I suppose I could just walk over to the clinic, but it would be so nice if you went with me.” Bae and Adaliya were both giggling in the bed next to us as I jumped up and pulled my coverall uniform on.

“Are you okay to walk? I can carry you,” I suggested.

“It’s only a few hundred meters. Just walk with me and let me lean on you.”

We had so many distressed and ill refugees arriving over the past months that we’d built a clinic that had twenty med tubes in it next to the school. With nearly 5,000 children, several hundred concubines, and the Militia, it seemed there was always a need for a med tube. I was considering putting one closer to the harbor just for construction injuries. Rose leaned on me and it was a very pleasant walk in the cool night air. What an ideal time for our child to be born. I lay Rose in the birthing bed, a special med tube devoted to childbirth, and held her hand as the miracle of life emerged from between her legs.

“I suppose someday we’re going to return to doing that without the help of nanites. That’s what we’re heading toward here on Tara, isn’t it?” Rose asked as I lifted our daughter to her breast. “Can I get up now?”

“Please wait for the afterbirth cleanup,” the med AI said. “You will be clear to return to your home in thirty minutes. You have a healthy baby girl, seven pounds, four ounces, and nineteen inches long. What name should be registered to her?”

“Susan,” Rose said.

“Is the sponsor in agreement?”

“Yes,” I said. “Her name is Susan Cho.”

I sat beside the tube while the clean-up was in process, including seeing the damp mess of the baby being cleaned by nanites. She sucked healthily at Rose’s breast and Rose’s nanites immediately stimulated lactation.

«Deputy Cho, K’treel ship AGS027, Amelia Earhart has entered the system and is requesting urgent disembarkation of fifty-seven refugee concubines and three hundred fourteen dependents, » Cricket said. It was so seldom that Cricket used my rank and name that at first, I thought it was Rhett calling. But this was official business of the Fort Butler Orphanage. Cricket was handling it professionally. I’d just gotten back to bed with Rose and our new daughter. Everyone was too excited to go back to sleep. I pulled my attention away from my daughter and snapped to Cricket.

«Three hundred seventy-one ... Wait a minute. How can a K’treel have that many people aboard? Doesn’t the spec say nine pods and some freight space?»

«The ship is far over-populated and has exhausted all its stores. Some of the passengers are in desperate need of medical assistance.»

«How soon can they begin transporting?»

«They can begin transporting in two hours but I am still negotiating with the Tara AI to allow them to immigrate.»

«What? Why? Let’s get them down here where we can take care of them.»

«There are no sponsors aboard the ship. Therefore, there is no one to officially authorize their transport.»

«Isn’t there a captain? Crew?»

«No. The Amelia Earhart is under the independent command of its AI.»

«Shit.»

“Rhett!” I spoke aloud so my family would understand why I was rolling out of bed and pulling my clothes on again. “Request an immediate meeting with Centurion Oswald, Director Kotter, and Governor O’Hara. We have two hours to solve this problem and start getting people off that ship.”

“Yes, Deputy. All parties respond affirmative. They are on their way to meet you,” Rhett said.

“My loves, we have an emergency with nearly 400 concubines and dependents in distress on their way here.”

“Go!” Adaliya said. “We will take care of Rose and the children. Let us know if you need our help.”

I ran out of our pod and into the office in time to meet Centurion Oswald as he stepped off our transporter.

“You’re here? I assumed I’d need to go to the governor’s office.”

“She was with Director Kotter and they are coming through transport in thirty seconds,” Oswald said.

“Great! Cricket, get me all the information on this shipload of refugees you can. Where are they from? Why are they here?”

“Information incoming.”

“Deputy Cho, what is happening?” the Governor demanded as she stepped off the transporter in the outer office. Behind her Director Kotter was pulling her uniform together.

“Governor, Centurion, Director, we have a ship that just entered Tara space requesting immediate disembarkation of 371 refugees. The ship is way over-populated and is out of stores. The Tara AI has refused permission to disembark the passengers because there is no sponsor aboard,” I summarized quickly. All three went into quiet conversation with different aspects of the AI.

“How did they know to come here?” Kotter asked.

“Director, word of our reception of refugees has spread rapidly through the Confederacy,” Cricket explained. “This lift of refugees was made after all other Confederacy ships had escaped the system leaving the Amelia Earhart while it was still loading. AGS027 stayed in the system until it had loaded everyone who could make it to a transporter, which heavily overtaxed its systems and supplies. It suffered some damage and eighteen casualties when it was hit by a Sa’arm plasma torpedo. Fortunately, the shot only scraped the bottom of the ship and it was able to escape to hyperspace. Unable to contact any of the rest of the rescuers, the Amelia Earhart set course for Tara where it knew refugees were being housed. It was one of the ships that brought DECO refugees last month.”