Chapter 12: "Bienvenue - la Colonie de Thulé"

It was a race that the Engineering team won by putting forth a truly herculean effort right up to the last minute. By the time CSS Aurora arrived a little after breakfast, Lieutenant Carruthers' team had identified the needed pods at the fabrication facilities located in orbit around the planet's tiny moon, cleared space for them in the first basement layer under the Beauty Saloon and the already-existing Unattached Concubine Quarters, and joined them into an elaborate tunnel system. It wasn't easy; it had never been intended to use the basement levels under the dome for residences, so they'd had to adapt egress systems intended to carry nothing larger than a Rommel tank or an armoured personnel carrier to transit the far bulkier and less manoeuvrable pods. The area itself had to be cleared of stowed emergency goods and the hydroponics gear. Fortunately the hydroponics farmer wasn't due to arrive until the last kilopod transport arrived some four months from now, so the gear itself was still bundled and reasonably easy to transport.

Fortunately for Carruthers and his team, Samantha had worked out how to get away with fewer pods than the Aurora carried. Aside from having as many of the girls "foster-sponsored" by the parents of 13-year-old sponsor-track kids as possible (with an eye toward having the fostered concubines becoming sponsored by the kids when they turned 14), there was the issue that outside of the pods there was a lot more space for the concubines to roam in without getting claustrophobia. She figured she could get away with 25 pods, including one ablutions and lavatory pod, which meant that with 5 already in place they only needed to add another 20. If there were a lot more dependants than anticipated she'd just think of something – like farming mothers and offspring out to foster sponsors before the single concubines.

The pods were now reconfiguring themselves to hold all those concubines and dependants, the exact number of which poor Samantha had to confess to Carruthers was still a best-guess estimate, while the engineers bustled about reconfiguring the Saloon itself to triple its former size. And the CSS Aurora had just announced her arrival.

In addition to transporting the newly-arrived concubines to the planet via a set of transporter nexuses, the Captain of the Aurora was asking for two (2) of his pods to be delivered planetside, adding that "you can let the God-damned things burn up on re-entry." Replacement pods were requested, the Aurora would configure them if necessary on their way back to Earth.

Samantha and Lieutenant Carruthers were standing together in the board-room with the Colonel and his battalion commanders when the communications came from the ship. As they listened to the relay, Carruthers turned to the 13-year-old and growled, "They're biting even more into the reserves I've been holding onto for the Pisces Clipper. You owe me, little girl."

She leaned over and purred into his ear. "In three months, I turn fourteen. Right after I get my CAP score, I get my birthday party. You're definitely invited. For this, you get my cherry. Ya wanna ... come?" She brushed her free hand against his crotch. Yep, she thought gleefully, hard as a rock.

"Don't let your mouth write cheques your body can't cash," he warned in a mock-threatening tone.

"Look for me at my party." She whispered silkily as she nibbled on his earlobe. "I'll be the one wearing the birthday suit."

"AI," Carruthers ordered, sounding strangely preoccupied, "release and deliver two empty pods from the pod reserve to CSS Aurora."

"Acknowledged, Lieutenant Carruthers," responded the clipped tones of the AI. Subvocally it added, 'Lieutenant Carruthers, you are aware that Optio Redburn is still only 13, and thus not eligible yet for full sexual activity?'

'Paaaaainfully, yes.'

Now, Carruthers wondered as Samantha's fingers continued to do delightful things to his ability to cogitate, where was he going to put these two new pods from the Aurora, and what did they have on board that the Captain wanted off his ship post-haste?

The first female off the nexus was dressed in 1660's peasant garb and carried a tiny wooden trunk, about the size of a small purse, as if she really were a Fille du Roi. The woman, who looked like she was in her 30's, stepped off the platform, making way for the next lady, and bowed deeply at the assembled officers. "Bonjour. Je m'appelle Sylvie," she announced in perfect Parisian French to the startled crowd, doing a curtsy right out of the French King's court of the 1600's.

The Colonel recovered his wits first. ''Bonjour, Sylvie. Mon nom est Michael Deschenes. Enchanté de vous connaître. Bienvenue à la colonie de Thulé."

While the French greetings flowed, behind Sylvie girl after girl emerged from the nexuses. Each was dressed in period costume, each carried a tiny wooden chest, each had a concubine collar, and each was obviously and understandably nervous.

A few were rather obviously a lot younger than 14, and lacked the concubine collar. One such young lady noticed Samantha, nudged the elbow of the older woman next to her, and pointed to the Civil Service cadet.

The pair, trailed closely by an even younger sprite, strode up to the grey-uniformed girl. The adult addressed her uncertainly.

"Optio Samantha Redburn?" When she received an acknowledging nod, she breathed a sigh of relief and continued. "I'm Vickie Arbuthnot," she introduced herself in an accent straight from the streets of Liverpool. "This is my daughter Mickey, and my niece Allison. Allie, don't hide, she won't bite."

"No I won't," Samantha reassured the five-year-old. "It's not a full moon today." She accepted the note that Vickie handed her – a note on real paper, a rarity on Thule.