Chapter 3: New Home

The pod gently settled into its new home, a ditch on the northwest side of the dome. As soon as the pod confirmed it had successfully mated with the cradle that would support it in place and had connected the utilities to the base facilities, an action that took a mere matter of minutes, the engineering vehicle began to bury it and the other four pods beside it deep beneath the frozen soil of Thule. Within hours it would be connected to the primary tunnel at its front and the secondary tunnel to its rear. Up in Kilo-class colony transport CSS Grey Goose, the next pod left as excited families prepared to leave their temporary home of the last three weeks for their new permanent base.

The first of the new troops had arrived.

In the pod that had just settled down, Bob Redburn lay on the bed, cradling the naked forms of his former wife Monica, and her sister Alice Munroe, now his concubines. Snuggled up tight to Monica was her nervous and equally naked daughter Samantha, 13.

They had been extracted at what they and their daughter's teammates had thought to be just another hockey tournament in northern Ontario, Canada, along with all the other members of her Peewee AA hockey team. Since then, Bob had enforced a "concubines nude" rule in the pod, although they were permitted to wear shifts outside. His daughter had felt that to be a fine rule for dependants to follow as well, except instead of a shift, she wore her hockey jersey. Several of her equally underage teammates had almost gotten neck strain trying to see if she were wearing panties, to no avail. The boys on board were still trying to unlock the mystery when the CSS Grey Goose arrived at Thule.

"Private Robert Redburn, your pod has successfully landed," the AI announced. "Utilities have been connected. There will be two hours while the end hatches join with the primary and secondary tunnels."

"Thank you," Bob responded politely.

"Private Robert Redburn, there is no requirement to thank the AI," the AI reminded for the umpteenth time.

"AI, there is no need to address me as 'Private Robert Redburn' every time. If I'm the only 'Private Redburn' in the room, that will do."

"Very well, Private Redburn."

"And my mommy raised me to be polite, and any intelligence, artificial or otherwise, deserves to be treated with a certain degree of politeness, and that includes yourself. Thank you, AI."

"You are welcome, Private Redburn."

Bob shot his amused concubines a look of triumph. "Now, what do we do with the next two hours?"

"There's always sex," Samantha suggested, causing both her mother and aunt to blush.

"Did you have any couplings in mind?" enquired Bob, raising an eyebrow. "Remember your age, now. There are some things you're allowed to do, but some things you aren't."

"I can watch..." Samantha suggested mischievously.

"That's true," Bob agreed, and felt his ex-wife stiffen in his arms. He looked Monica in the eye, and saw her plea reflected in her irises. "What? Your daughter may be sponsor-track, but she still has to learn how to create babies."

"She's still my baby," she muttered into his ear. "I'm uncomfortable enough with her just lying naked next to me."

In response, Samantha hugged her mother spoon-like, her tiny breasts digging into the older woman's back. It wasn't uncomfortable physically, but it was emotionally. Monica found herself being forcibly reminded by those soft A-cup breasts that the little girl who she'd brought into the world, whose diapers she'd changed, whose meals she had cooked, who she'd played road hockey with and taken camping and canoing, helped with the doing of homework and the figuring out of life, had begun growing into a woman. Monica smiled as a happy memory flitted across her memory.

"Remember when you got your first period, Sam?" All four clearly did. "Your Dad agreed it was a monumentally important occasion in a young lady's life, and took us out to an expensive restaurant to celebrate. The waiter couldn't serve you Champagne, so the sommelier gave you a glass of ginger ale in a champagne flute."

Bob reached his right arm behind his ex-wife and gave his naked daughter a hug, squeezing Monica in between him and Samantha.

"All right, then, it's time to get some work done!"

"Daddy? No sex?" Samantha was disappointed.

"There's a time for sex, and a time to ensure that the pod came down all right. Let's check everything for breakages. Samantha, top floor. Monica, kitchen. Alice, front half of the pod."

As there were only the four of them in the pod, the top floor was still largely unoccupied. One bedroom held Samantha's hockey bag and equipment, and was nominally her bedroom. In fact, she had yet to sleep there, making outrageous use of her status as a 13-year-old to sleep in the master bedroom with her father and both his concubines. Other than changing the colour from the hideous grey to a pastel shade and installing an entertainment centre on the one wall of the common room, they hadn't done much to the upstairs at all, although they'd pencilled in a nursery.