Chapter 4

“Attention, people, listen up! This won’t take too long if you follow orders properly. Everyone, sponsors, concubines, gather in your households before going to your pods. Welcome to Earth orbit, boys and girls! Sponsors, collect your concubines’ CAP cards, inquire about any health issues that need immediate treatment, and gather shifts for your concubines. Also, inform us of the names of any dependents, that is children under fourteen, who need to be picked up.

“That especially goes for you, Mr. O’Connell. You’ve entered a binding agreement with one of your concubines, one Elena Mendoza, that is still in force despite her change of status, as she wasn’t yet a concubine when you did so. I know that you entered it with honorable intentions, of course, or else why make it, but it makes the extraction of her children the most urgent priority among the evacuations. I know that you didn’t intend to obligate us, but you did so nonetheless.

“Thankfully, you’re clearly a man of your word and we’ll gladly help keep you that way. It wouldn’t look right for a naval officer to go against his word, would it, Cadet? Yes, that appears to be your career trajectory, wouldn’t you agree? Or should I call you ‘Midshipman?’ Luckily, like all squids, you get to keep a conk or two in the bunk on your various missions. We jarheads aren’t quite as fortunate.

“Now, let’s get moving. Supper’s in just four and a half hours, then medtubes, a little intro course, and then it’s bedtime. We’re enforcing a shipwide curfew for all concubines and new recruits to limit incidents,” Captain Ramirez singled me out for a bit of good-natured ribbing at the end of his little speech.

“Alright, ladies and gents, let’s get things moving, shall we?” Davies chuckled in his quirky, nasal Boston Brahmin accent.

It was probably because I had accidentally put him in a little bind about Elena’s youngest pair of fraternal twins.

Sergeant Malone all but confirmed this by slapping me on the tush and whispering, “Well, boyo, you know when to make friends, don’t ya?”

Collecting the CAP cards from naked concubines still holding them eagerly in their hands was no difficulty for me. Other sponsors, however, weren’t so lucky. Most of us had children for the Marines to pick up, of course, though in my case, it was only the Mendoza twins, Alfonso and Jessica. At just thirteen, they wouldn’t be with me for too long, only until their fourteenth birthday, unless, of course, they didn’t qualify as sponsors in their own right. With any luck, and a good amount of tutoring, that wouldn’t be an issue.

“They’re both in middle school, Master. Bruce Babbitt Middle School. Alfonso’s captain of the wrestling team and Jessica is a majorette with the marching band. Yes, they’re both very good students, too,” Elena understandably beamed with a mother’s pride.

“And sadly, the other four can’t tag along, worse luck! Sounds like a very talented family. By the way, what medical conditions do you have? I need to tell the captain or someone on his team. I know that I have scoliosis and asthma. What about each of you?” I questioned Elena first, and then my other conks, about their health.

“Diabetes, insulin-dependent. Hypertension, too. At least I never picked up smoking like my twin brother Oscar. He looks like a fucking chimney by now! I have enough health problems as it is. Also, high LDL cholesterol and triglycerides. And neuropathy from the diabetes. I love being a mama, but a working mom who has access to concession stand junk food faces some real occupational hazards. Running a movie theater ain’t easy or stress-free by any means,” Elena confessed her quite understandable weakness for fast food and saturated fats.

“Hey, you’re pretty easy on the eyes already and after this, you’ll be hot stuff! I’m very glad that Nina recommended you to me. I don’t think that any of us will have to worry about such things again. Nina, you got any health issues? Kara? Mara?” I turned to my other three concubines now.

“Just a goiter from hypothyroidism. Hashimoto’s Disease. Long story there,” Nina admitted to me now.

“Eh, that can easily be repaired, right, AI?” I asked the ship’s AI.

“Correct. Hypothyroidism is just one of many such conditions that can be treated and cured with the latest medical technology from the Confederacy. Anything that they have which they haven’t detected yet, in fact, can and likely will be detected by our medtubes,” the AI reassured me now.

“Going once, going twice ... sold,” I chuckled as I gave my conks one last chance to speak up about their medical needs.