Chapter 27: After Action

Samantha opened a bleary eye, and decided she was awake. It had been a wonderful birthday party, the like of which she could well believe no 14-year-old Earth girl would ever have the chance to experience. She and Carruthers had gone twice more, followed by a stream of people congratulating her. After the show she and the Base Logistics Officer had put on, there were other impromptu couplings around the floor, including her own parents (followed by her aunt and father).

She opened the second eye, and found herself staring at the sprawled form of her concubine Vickie. The British veterinarian was as naked as Samantha was – of course, Samantha realized: she'd ordered her concubine to undress and had yet to countermand that order. The dark-haired woman was fast asleep, and had obviously gotten some action as well: tell-tale fluid oozed from her gaping vagina.

As she replayed last night's scene in her mind, she realized in frustration that she had still to learn Carruthers' first name.

'Sub-Decurion Redburn, ' the base brothel's AI unexpectedly subvocalized in its feminine voice, 'you have visitors.'

'Oh? Where?'

'The bed to your left.'

She rolled away from Vickie, and found herself staring in complete surprise into three pair of solemn eyes attached to three youngsters lying on their stomachs on the bed next to hers. "You told me to bring the girls over for breakfast," Diana Deschenes reminded the hung-over Civil Service officer, indicating Vickie's daughter Mickey and niece Allie. The two Arbuthnot girls wore children's shifts of white that came down halfway to their knees; Diana wore the same outfit that her mother always did.

Despite it being close to oh-nine-hundred, the party was actually still going on – Samantha could hear music coming up the stairs as she headed down to check out the joint. It might be her birthday, but the Beauty Saloon was still her responsibility, and besides, it was her birthday party. She left the two girls to wake up their mother.

At the bottom of the elevator from the party room, she ran into Colonel Deschenes and Penny walking up. Penny seemed in something of a hurry and was covering her crotch with one hand.

"Gottagopee!" came the hurried explanation from the older woman. She didn't stop in her scramble onto the elevator pad, but Michael paused.

"It's not just urine, is it?" Samantha asked as she observed the smirk on Michael's face.

He happily shook his head. "Like you, Penny is supposed to set a good example to the concubines, that sex can be enjoyed. So far, you both are doing a wonderful job. Plus, it's time and past time for Diana to have a little brother or sister, so we were working toward that."

"At least Diana can't see me like this. That would be just too embarrassing!" called Penny as the pad merged with the ceiling, one hand desperately clutched to her dripping crotch to hold the semen in. Samantha turned a worried face to her boss.

"Uh-oh," Samantha said softly, as Michael instantly grasped the situation. "Four, three, two..."

"EEEEK!"

" ... one," she winced.

Penny was obviously too desperate to spend a penny, as she didn't come down. Michael's shoulders shook as he silently laughed at his concubine's predicament. Together the two Confederacy officers climbed onto the elevator pad to the brothel's bedroom floor to provide at least some comfort to Penny.

Penny, however, didn't want comfort at that moment. She wanted privacy ... and she wasn't going to get it in this room. The sight that greeted Michael was of her sitting on one of the line of commodes that lined the wall separating the showers from the enormous bedchamber. The commode she was perched on had obeyed its standing instructions by turning absolutely clear as glass. She was making a rotating gesture with her finger and saying, "Diana, honey, can you please turn around for a second?"

Diana gave her a shrug of mystification, even though she was perfectly aware of what her mother was going through – the temptation to tease was just too strong. "Why? Nothing there I haven't seen before." The look was one of purest innocence.

Michael hadn't stopped smirking. When Samantha subvocalized, 'Remind me never to play poker with your daughter, ' he almost burst out laughing.

Down in the dining room, Shelly Saturn's two daughters, 12-year-old Melissa and 10-year-old Macy, were belting out a little karaoke. The song they'd chosen, a quite risqué number by Nickelback, was clearly aimed at their amused yet embarrassed mother, who was sitting at a table near the stage with orders from her sponsor not to budge from that spot:

"I'm loving what you wanna wear

I wonder what's up under there

Wonder if I'll ever have it

Under my tongue."

Shelly was perfectly aware that they'd likely have "what's under there" under their tongues the minute each turned thirteen. Her sponsor was definitely amused by the thought – as was she, although she dared not show it – and he had already indicated to her that when each girl reached the tender age of thirteen, Shelly was expected to teach her daughters about the pleasures of Sapphic love.

Samantha swept into the room at that point, making an impact not unlike a hurricane: a naked, happily-freshly-deflowered, newly-promoted fourteen-year-old force of nature tended to do that. Her mother and aunt were flaked out on the bench seating in a U-shaped booth, sleeping off the carnal attentions of their sponsor, her father. Samantha had a whispered consultation with her father and Lieutenant William Barker, after which the two men went over, gathered the two heavily-pregnant concubines in their arms like they were toddlers, and carried them up to the upper-floor party room to sleep for awhile.

Still feeling the effects of insufficient sleep, Samantha plunked herself down next to the shift-clad interstellar chanteuse and gave out a prodigious yawn. No sooner had she settled into the high-backed, armless chair than a concubine waitress dressed in a scandalously scanty version of a 1930's waitress' outfit with bobbed dark hair matching the era walked over with a reproduction Von Nessen coffee set.

The girls finished their bawdy song, and went over to give their mother a big hug. "I'm glad they don't know the meaning of the song they were singing," Shelly confided to Samantha.

"Yes. Right." Samantha avoided looking in Shelly's eyes. She was quite aware how mothers liked to think their daughters were still innocent – an innocence one encountered only rarely even before the social changes created in the Swarm era.

Shelly cocked an eyebrow as her younger daughter giggled. "I sense a scepticism in the Force."

Samantha just grinned at the older woman. Then, cup halfway between table and lips, she froze as her face drew a faraway look. She was receiving a subvocal communication.

She shook off the look and apologized to her table companion. "Sorry about that – duty called. Just a sec, got to make a call."

"Quite all right, my dear," reassured Shelly. "I understand – pity about it being on your birthday, though."

'Is it a court martial?' Samantha was quizzing Colonel Deschenes.

"And what does that song mean?" asked Shelly of Macy.

'No, it's being called a Board of Inquiry. They don't think we've done anything that would subject us to a court martial, not yet anyway, but they think there are lessons that can be learnt here, ' came the voice of the Colonel into the Sub-Decurion's ear. 'You can stay dressed in your birthday suit today, ' he chuckled, 'they won't be arriving for another week.'

"It's about sex," Macy replied, confident in her interpretation of the lyrics, much to her mother's dismay. "Y'know, making babies."

'I recommend, though, that you review your action reports, and maybe get up to speed on mine and the Admiral's, ' added the Colonel soberly.

Melissa continued, to her mother's additional discomfiture, "Yeah, what we've been watching you and Frank do every night since he picked you up." Corporal Frank Evans was their sponsor – and on track, if his development kept proceeding as it had, to becoming an officer in the Confederacy Marines.

Samantha asked the AI to provide her with the aforementioned action reports and schedule a time for their review, and returned her attention to the star vocalist sharing her table.

"Sam, I'm just NOT used to colony life yet," Shelly moaned.

"Hm?" asked Samantha, mystified as her conversation had been entirely disconnected from Shelly's. The AI had to bring her up to speed, subvocally. This link was invaluable, Samantha realized. "Look, on Earth, even when I left it some six months ago, fourteen-year-olds getting pregnant was still a subject for scandal and shame for their families. Out here, fourteen-year-olds, be they concubines or sponsors, are expected to get pregnant, preferably sooner rather than later, and therefore are expected to not only have sex, but to enjoy sex. We need lots of little Marines and sailors to fight off the Swarm, and we aren't going to get them soon enough if we make the teens wait about six years after puberty kicks in to reproduce. And that means that when they turn fourteen, they're expected to know what sex is all about. And that means they need to learn what it's all about before they turn fourteen."

Shelly gave her a desperate look, but Samantha just sighed. "And that means you need to give them the right kind of sex education long before that birthday, and show them the right attitude so they realize that it's OK and Mommy is happy and supportive – even if Mommy has to fake it." She grabbed Shelly's hand comfortingly, her eyes full of sympathy. "So, where will you be in about a year and a half when Mel has her fourteenth birthday? Pretending she still needs to wait for her eighteenth birthday, or holding her hand while she rides a cute Marine?"