We had an orchestra and it was playing “Pomp and Circumstance” as this month’s graduating class lined up. There were 57 of them this month. Every graduate had reached Age 14 and were officially adults. Every one had taken a CAP test. There were six rows of eight chairs and a seventh row with nine chairs. All of the students wore mortar boards and black gowns and most were uncomfortable in their unaccustomed clothing. Guiding the graduates were Bettie and Chastity, two of their teachers. Some of the students had medals or pins on their gowns. Most had different colored cords draped over their shoulders. A few had red stoles. Some had white tassels instead of black. Woefully ignorant me! Not only did those signify something, I didn’t have time to learn what those decorations meant. The procession had entered and the class song was sung by a concubine choir. It was an original song called Event Horizon.

Tess, senior Civil Service officer on the Arc Dios, introduced the special guests, class officers, and speakers. We had visitors from Earth who were members of the Earth Defense Force—and because Arc Dios was ruled to be in colony mode, a CAP test wasn’t required for them. Each visitor had an escort. There were members of the two Confederacy commands—DECO and Central Command, and they required no escort. Lilith, the colonial governor of Arc Dios, was there in all of her naked glory. One doesn’t order a goddess to put on clothes when she prefers to be nude.

Lilith was the next speaker, giving the class her blessings and welcoming everybody.

“It is my pleasure to host Major Thomas Lawrence’s project of collecting human culture, preserving it, and making it available to human colonies and the Confederacy. You are part of that culture. Whether concubine or sponsor, you preserve and make available human culture. I have kept your CAP scores secret so that we can reveal them all at once—along with your assignments. Some of you are competitive and anything less than a 9.9 will disappoint you. Others will feel like failures because you didn’t achieve a 6.5 or higher. Your CAP scores do not denote failure or success—the CAP test helps us place you where your talents will serve me and Arc Dios best. Graduation from school doesn’t mean that you stop learning. Concubines will annually retest because we need sponsors.

“I’m proud of you, and so is my husband. Thirty of you have achieved 4.0 to 4.9 grade point averages and five of you have a GPA of 5.0—but high GPA doesn’t mean a high CAP score. All of you have important work. Now it’s time for our Valedictorian, the top student in our class, Halima Lawrence.”

Festooned in her robe with a red stole over a white stole, a white tassel on her mortarboard, multiple pins and medals and 18 cords denoting academic awards. I thought I had decorations! Halima earned every one through hard work.

“I was rescued from a slave pen in Eastern Europe, now part of the Caliphate. My father sold me to human traffickers. At first, I was angry. I had been betrayed and mistreated. My foster father and husband, Tom, introduced me to a horse called Blitzkrieg. That stallion and his herd taught me to be human, along with other animals here on Arc Dios. I was broken. Some nightmares will never leave me but I have learned to conquer them. After a few weeks I was well enough to begin school. Not only did I learn to love learning, I learned to love. Blitzkrieg loves me unconditionally. Tom told me a secret to a great career as a scholar was to help others learn—because I would have to know the lessons well enough to explain them to others. I still have a lot of learning to do.

“Enough about me. There is a war on and we have work to do. You have labored long and hard, I’m talking to you, Fatima—we worked really hard to get you graduated. It was teamwork that got everybody through our class work. That teamwork will be our lives. Some of us will bear children. Some will help raise children. Many will be fighters. We need healers, we need builders. We need dreamers and inventors. We need story tellers. My husband tried to explain how complex modern war has become but you all know Major Lawrence and his tendency to data dump. I just know that there’s a lot of pieces and all are in motion. I’ve worked with most of you and I am proud to be part of this class.”

If the graduation ceremony seems abbreviated, sue me! I was joined by Debra, daughter of Lilith, and we three called students and handed out the diplomas. Fatima Lawrence managed to get only a 2.0 GPA and she had help—but her CAP score was 6.9! Halima Lawrence, Valedictorian with a 5.0 GPA, only scored 5.0 on her CAP. Halima wasn’t the only concubine—but 46 sponsors out of a class of 57 children was something to celebrate. Intelligence wasn’t the only component of the Capacity, Aptitude and Potential tests. CAP testing looked deeply into the recesses of the mind and the soul—at least as I understand it. Character is carefully weighed under simulated stress. Moral danger as well as physical danger are presented. I was going to have to talk to those two after the rest of their class was given their diplomas. Two lines were formed—the 46 sponsors were in one group and the 11 concubines were in the other.

There was some good news—I could pick up more concubines from Earth! The pick-up would be a fine exercise for the 46 new sponsors. Planning and preparation would take ten days.

“Graduates, welcome to adulthood!” Tess announced. “Dismissed!”

The class cheered and their hats flew. Most of the graduates shucked their robes, too. The band struck up the recessional and the sponsors marched in one direction. The concubines remained. When the band stopped, a gray horse entered Conference Room Four and trotted to Halima. Horse and woman hugged. From the exit Fatima entered with Kimba, her animal companion, an adult albino lion. One of our guests was Solomon, the biological father of Fatima.

“Shall we greet our daughter and your wife?” Solomon asked. “Kimba is protective of my daughter, and I know that Blitzkrieg won’t allow anybody to hurt your family.”

“Tomcat,” Lilith said, “Halima isn’t depressed. Her CAP test is accurate. She only needs your love. It’s Fatima’s time to teach Halima.”

“I want what is best for them.”

“I know you do, dear.”

When I got close, Kimba stood up on his hind legs and gave me an enthusiastic lion hug. Blitzkrieg managed to nip me on the shoulder.

“I’m so glad that doesn’t happen to me, Daughter,” Solomon told Fatima. “I used to be concerned about your safety but I can see that Kimba regards you as his family.”

“We love each other, Father,” Fatima replied in Arabic. “See? My husband insists that we keep the old ways alive so that those that come after us will know them.”

“You don’t look like you’re following the old ways, Fatima.”

“Is the fatwa declaring this place to be Paradise canceled?”

“No, it’s still in force.”

“Father, this entire colony ship is my home. I am also almost a certified houri—I just need my husband to take my virginity,” Fatima beamed. “Besides, this is the uniform for all female personnel living here. Kimba and the other non-human people like it better when we humans don’t wear clothing—they see it as putting up barriers between us and pretending that humans are superior to them. Father, I know that you disagree, but I’m not superior to Kimba.”

Kimba rumbled in agreement. A lion’s roar can be heard for miles—up close that roar is loud enough to damage hearing. Kimba was very careful to avoid hurting others—unless those others hurt his Fatima!

“I can see that the fatwa was not in error,” another Arab remarked as he warily approached. “Animals and humans living side-by-side in harmony. Yes, I know, the animals are selected from all other animals—but the humans are as well. Peace be upon you, Major Lawrence.”

“Peace be upon you, Sheikh bin Laden.”

“You almost have it right,” a grin split his beard. “My family thanks you for rescuing us.”

“I could only do so with your permission, sir.”

“What are you talking about?” Solomon asked.

“We are not as united in Islam as we should be,” bin Laden explained. “Major Lawrence appeared before me when my prayers ended. He informed me that a commando team was on its way to kill me and my entire family. He offered three things—save me and my family, save my family, or he’d leave—but they’d attack in 30 minutes. I believed him because I was still pure from prayer. I’m not a well man, and Allah will take me any time He wills it. I asked why he just didn’t take care of the commandos and he referred me to General Mubarak. Tell Solomon what you told me, Major.

“You are important to Earth Defense Force. The commandos were going to leave evidence blaming the United States for your death in order to divide the planet.” I shifted my gaze from bin Laden to my father-in-law. “Obviously, bin Laden made the right decision because he’s here.”

“What happened to the commandos?” Solomon asked.

“I’m told that those commandos were captured, my compound was erased, and then the commandos were returned to where they came from. A gray dome appeared as soon as the commandos entered, and thirty minutes later the dome vanished, leaving behind bare ground,” bin Laden said. “I was with General Mubarak and his family until I was moved someplace else that was safe.”

“We’re wanted in Conference Room Two,” I said, “Blitzkrieg and Kimba can tolerate the internal transporter network. If you two can stand a little excitement, we can beat the others to the conference room.”

The trip through the transporter network was almost instant. Aside from a few nude concubines who were there to serve the conference members, we were the first Confederacy sponsors and conference guests in Conference Room Two. Spots the jaguar and his girl, Dawn, were there—along with several other non-humans. No snakes. No birds. All the animals present were mammals. Svetlana the tiger was there with a woman who had been sentenced to die for her espionage activities against the Confederacy—Kimee’s execution was delayed until I grew tired of her. My biological daughter Branimira was in the company of the twin panthers, Lucy and Satin. There were refreshment stations and a conference table in the center of an amphitheater surrounded by tiers of seats. Above the stadium seating were large panels that would provide multimedia support.

“I finally accept that you don’t seek glory or wealth,” bin Laden observed. “Yet you are richer and more powerful and more admired than any other world leader.”

“I’m not a world leader,” I objected. “My primary role is scholar. I’m not even qualified to be a teacher.”

Solomon chuckled. “That’s not what I hear.”

“Correction,” I admitted, “I’m not certified to be a teacher on Planet Earth.”

“I’ve heard of that CAP test,” bin Laden said. “I’m not going to take a CAP test because of the danger of being brainwashed. I trust you, Major, but I cannot trust the Confederacy. I don’t like you, I think that you need to submit to Islam, but I respect you.”

“Thank you,” I replied. “Machiavelli wrote that it’s better to be respected than liked.”

“I think the English translations say ‘it’s better to be feared than respected,” General Mubarak had used the transporter system and had his arm around Bettie. “Your voice does have a lot of weight with the Confederacy—you could have destroyed the Caliphate. The reason you gave was that killing two billion humans would compromise Earth’s defenses. I suspect that you were trying to save life.”