Chapter 79

Major Howard:

Things were winding toward a conclusion of the voyage; The Valhalla had treated us well, but there would be alterations before it went into full service. That wasn't MY concern; I had several thousand colonists to worry about. Thursday morning, I was examining the Civil Service team's recommendation that we continue to allow concubine couples to cohabit on the colony surface. I was concerned about this, because inevitably, it would mean that some couples would consider this state to be business as usual and if we did nothing about it, we would end up with a class of second-class citizens -- and a LOT of friction with the concubine contingent. I hauled the four of them -- Mark, Maureen, Vera, and Gonzalo -- into my office to discuss it and got reluctant agreement -- but they --Gonzalo, in particular, were adamant that the plan for segregating unregistered male concubines amounted to the same thing. "We have to place virtually EVERY male concubine," he insisted. "If we do not, there will be trouble, long-term. My job, as it has been defined to me as 'warden of the male concubine holding area' is untenable, long-term, for anything but the most hardened group of what must necessarily be prisoners."

"We have unregistered females in the brothels," I pointed out.

" ... And we will always have a small number of males," Gonzalo agreed, "but for the stability of our society, that number must be very small. It comes down to a situation that you already face with the females -- beyond a certain amount of effort, it is better for society if we recycle them, but on the other hand, we have a certain commitment to them that extends from the fact that they had no idea what they were getting into upon pickup."

"Some will be unsuitable," I insisted. "That's a fact of life."

"Some males may be used as the females are," Gonzalo pointed out, "in support of procreation in sponsor females. There should be a small pool for this."

"Life in any holding area we create can't be allowed to be easy," I noted, "We HAVE to push them out!"

"Agreed," Gonzalo nodded. "I will work on this."

"They can spend time with their families during the daytime, but must be segregated at night," I offered.

Gonzalo glanced at Mark, then Maureen -- and finally Vera, who nodded. "Agreed."

I turned to Mark. "We'll break out of hyperspace around noon; contact the colony immediately with whatever adjustments you think this will entail." He nodded, and I dismissed them -- except... "Vera, would you linger for a moment, please?" She nodded and re-seated herself.

When the door had closed, she asked, "What can I do for you?"

I gathered myself -- this kind of thing was something I had a lot of reticence discussing. "My current crop of concubines is ... unsatisfactory."

She cocked her head. "Why?"

"The best description that I can give you is that they're empty-headed young girls. I cannot develop an emotional attachment and I use them for sex and end up tossing them back in the spares pool. That's unfair to them, I'm sure..."

Vera chuckled. "I'd have said that your eyes are bigger than your cock, but I know better."

"Well, you're close, anyway. They tend to be decorative and athletic, but not REALLY sexually oriented," I replied.

"How many children do you have?" Vera asked, eyeing me.

"A couple. They're with their mothers. There always seems to be a great deal of emotional distress with the young ones and I can't abide it -- it interferes with my work. I try to see to it that they're placed with a sponsor..."

Vera pursed her lips. "You've not been hiring mothers."

"No, I haven't."

"You need a..." I watched her access the AI for terms, " ... First Sergeant -- or a Sergeant Major."

I blinked. "Undoubtedly."

"You want an unflappable woman who will run your household and keep away distractions while seeing to it that you have a family and plenty of hot sex," Vera theorized.

"Yes," I agreed. "And I've been looking in the wrong market, haven't I?"

Vera nodded, grinning. "Big time. Unfortunately for you, I'm taken..."

I snorted in embarrassed laughter. She merely waited me out. "My interludes with you DID tend to point up the problem I've been having, but..."

"I would be a handful, anyway," Vera grinned. "So what do you want from me?"

"Clearly, I can't pick one out," I admitted. "I tend to ogle the young stuff that represents prime feminine pulchritude and forget what I'm really looking for."

Vera mused. "That happens a lot. Young guys, in particular, tend to have what they think are high standards -- but they concentrate on what they see and miss the good parts. Still, an AI could project alterations..."

I waved it off. "I have no imagination where such things are concerned," I admitted, sighing. "I need help."

"Show me what you have," Vera said.

I had the AI display my current pair of concubines. I could have four, but two were trouble enough. "They're recent acquisitions -- I can't even remember their names." I looked at them and found myself totally disinterested. "They aren't going to last another six hours -- they're better off elsewhere."

Vera pursed her lips. "Is that what you're looking for?"

"No. Not even close," I mused. "I need something a great deal more mature, more placid of temperament, diligent, self-starting and at least gracious about my sexual demands." After a pause, I added, somewhat embarrassed, "I would be willing to accept considerably more padding in the candidate."

Vera's lips quirked. "Big girls tend to have a lot more gratitude for the attention they get. So, you want me to act as a matchmaker?"

"Please." I couldn't bring myself to meet her eye.

"The current crop has children..."

"If they're controlled and disciplined and can be taught to stay out of my way when necessary, that isn't a problem," I replied. "I should think that it would be an indicator of her capabilities if the children are well-behaved."

Vera pursed her lips. "Race? Creed? Color?"

"Situation dependent," I replied. "If I like what I see, it's irrelevant."

Vera cocked her head. "Mates?"

I grimaced. "I'm rated for four. In the unlikely event that I get there, I might need to have one available -- JUST one. While it's shameless of me to admit it, he would probably have to be as amenable to discipline as the children -- and more generally out of sight."

"So a male lieutenant at home wouldn't necessarily be your preferred method of delegating things?" Vera asked.

I waved a hand. "Maybe. A clear understanding of the chain of command would be required."

Vera nodded. "Time is short. Can you interview later today?"

"I can."

"I'm off, then."

Vera:

I had to get out of there before I cackled in the poor guy's face! What it must have taken for him to unbend that far said a lot about how desperate he was. The Major had been using women for sex ever since his position made them available to him -- but, like Mark, he hadn't found what he was looking for in a mate, because he was looking in all of the wrong places. That realization was the first step to fixing things, though -- and he'd already taken the second -- he'd hired me...

Was this my job? Good question. In many ways, I think it was -- I was in charge of placing concubines, wasn't I? If it seemed on the surface to be a little more personal than that, what's more personal than finding a mate? I started digging through the database, looking for something that met the Major's -- and my -- criteria...

Myra Whitehead was my first candidate. She was thirty-one and had three kids -- two boys and a girl -- by two different men. She'd arrived at Family Day again single, however -- and had been for some time...

The reasons for that were fairly obvious; the AI said she weighed three hundred forty-five pounds and diabetes and hypertension (both cured at her intake at Medical) had been robbing her of vitality. She still ruled her brood with an iron fist; during the interview, she erupted, "Robbie! Get your butt over here so the nice lady can see you! You, too, Tyrone!" -- and ended up dragging the younger one into my field of view by an ear. Little Alicia had been content to sit with her mother the whole time. The boys really were good, too -- and well-mannered; ten year old Tyrone just didn't want to stop playing.

She was also black, not generally a drawing card. She had good sex scores, and her answer to why she didn't have a man right now was an embarrassed, "I kept gettin' bigger and slower. I LOVE sex, but..." and she waved at herself.

"What do you think of white boys?" I asked her.

"Never had one..." Myra mused. "Got close a couple of times, but..." She shrugged. "It'd take a big 'un. I don't see one gonna come a-runnin' at MY picture..."

"Well, suppose we negotiate from a platform of how you looked at eighteen," I offered.

Myra made a face. "I was big THEN."

"Let's see..." I had the AI project her. She weighed half of her current weight then -- and she was still no doubt medically obese. She had nice curves, though, and big round jugs, even with the pot belly.

Myra grunted. "I guess that was my fightin' weight. I caught a husband lookin' like that -- and kept him a few years."

"We'll start here, then - and he can make adjustments. He isn't looking for a swimsuit model, anyway," I told her. Changing the subject, I asked, "Do you give head?"

Myra cocked her head and grinned crookedly. "You're a big woman -- do you?"

"Like a pro!" I retorted, grinning.

"The bigger you get, the more you've got to bring to the table," Myra mused. "I'm grateful for every mouthful of man-chowder I get -- and I was back then, too. Skinny bitches wrinkle their nose and talk about the taste and how demeaning it is and all that bullshit -- but if you want a man happy, you'll suck his dick -- and make sure he knows you love it!"

"Yeah, they love that," I agreed.

"It puffs up their egos, havin' you down there, lookin' up, with your lips all over it," Myra declared. "A big woman has to go the extra mile -- shit I have to go FIVE!"

"So you like to fuck?"

"Every day, when I can get it." That she hadn't lately went without saying. "I haven't been able to, for a while -- it just took too much -- but I'm perkin up." She grimaced. "Not gettin' any smaller, though." Changing the subject, she asked, "Can I see him?"

The Major would no doubt have been scandalized; I had the AI put him up naked and erect. "How come he isn't, like, twenty or something?" Myra asked.

"He's a military man -- has been all his adult life -- and he's in a position of authority," I told her, paraphrasing what he'd once told me. "The insides are younger than the exterior, but he looks older and wiser and that's a comfort to some people and helps him cement his authority -- not that he needs it."

Myra eyed me. "What does THAT mean?"

"I guess it means he expects to be obeyed -- not perhaps in the way it sounds, but in the way it is for military men. If he gives you something to do, he wants it done -- and it's left up to you how. He won't want any back-talk -- but he'll accept questions regarding ways and means and will answer them as best he can. If he wants to get laid, he'll tell you what he wants and how -- maybe brusquely -- and he'll expect you to deliver it and have a good attitude about it." I paused for a moment and then added, "I've fucked him myself, so I know. He's pretty good, too, actually."

Myra cocked her head. "Really? Then why... ?"

"I've got other commitments -- and I work for him. That doesn't rule out the occasional roll in the hay, but he remembers when it did," I told her.

She nodded. "Lots of things change -- but that don't mean you realize it."

I nodded. "Tradition is big in the military. They live by the stuff, I think. In any case, I have my own men and a spouse of twenty-some years and kids..."

"I thought marriage don't count?"

"It doesn't -- unless you're both sponsors and you really want it to. He has his responsibilities and I have mine and, well, as much as I might not like it, our current state is kind of transitional. There was a time when sharing him was unthinkable -- but now he has his women and I have my men and the two of us are actually low priority for each other. As sad as that seems, it is actually better than what we had -- and that was MY fault!" I waved it off. "Forget it. What about the Major, here?"

"Major, huh? Sounds important..." Myra mused.

Realizing that I'd possibly screwed up, I said dismissively, "Well, I told you he'd been at it for a while."

Myra nodded. "Many of them around?"

I shrugged. "I wouldn't know."

She shrugged. "Well, it ain't about that anyway, is it? What about the kids?"

"I'm going to be honest with you," I said. "He's never been married. You're going to have to keep them out of his hair for a while and let him get used to them. The good news is that they're old enough to understand. He wants them -- he'll take them -- but he's just not used to a lot of noise and confusion. He might get stern and grouchy, you know?"

She eyed me and pursed her lips. "I suppose if he gets pissed, I'll take the heat."

I nodded, thinking about it. "I don't think he'll get physical about it; most likely, he'll banish you or something. To date, if a woman was too much trouble, he sent her back to the Civil Service pool. I think he wants to stop doing that, but it's really going to depend upon whether he has any skin in the game. You need to make an impression." I sat back. "He doesn't need a mama, but he needs a good right hand. He needs to be able to come home and relax at the end of the day and not worry about his house being all disrupted. He needs regular doses of good sex -- and he's jaded; no doubt he's done it all."