Chapter 10

"May I help you?" Amy asked of the girl who walked in the door of the principal's office. Jean looked up and saw Megan.

"Amy, do you know my daughter, Megan?" Jean asked.

"No," blushed Amy, "I'm afraid I don't. I'm pleased to meet you, Megan."

"I'm pleased to meet you too, Amy," answered Megan brightly. "Mom has told me a bit about you. She says you've been elected her right-hand-man, as it were. Not that you leave the least doubt but what you're a beautiful young woman," she giggled.

"You're a beautiful young woman yourself," laughed Amy.

"Enough with the mutual-admiration society," chuckled Jean. "I know you two will get along famously. Let's get to work."

They got themselves comfortably seated around a table and began to lay out the issues. They decided that Megan would work on collecting errant CAP card scans. They worked through the database, isolated individuals with unscanned CAP cards, and tried to organize a somewhat efficient route.

They showed Megan how to use the laptop and the CAP card scanner. They talked about the reactions Megan might encounter, the arguments and excuses she might hear, and what her responses ought to be. It was emphasized to Megan that she should ask one and all whether they expected any grown children or any other family or friends to move back to town, hoping for a ride to the stars. They told Megan that, as unfair as it was, it was less than unlikely that any males with CAP scores below the 6.5 level necessary to volunteer would be able to go. On the other hand, it was virtually certain that any woman who wanted to go would be accommodated. They showed Megan how to add at least the names of those expected to return to town at a later date, and how to connect these people to their families in the files.

Jean handed Megan the keys to the car, which was still at home. Jean made sure Megan had her cell phone, and that it was turned on. Megan promised to return in time for lunch. Finally, when they had finished talking, Megan packed her stuff, made her goodbyes, and left.

At 9:47, Shannon emerged into the pool area, hunched over and trying to cover herself without it being obvious. When Bob turned to her, she visibly steeled herself and stood up straight, her arms at her sides. She was blushing crimson, but she wore a wan smile.

Bob tried his best to put her at ease. As he guided her in a stroll alongside the pool, he explained the twin objectives for the students, who were swimming underwater across the width of the pool. He promised to show her how the kids were practicing their touch hand-offs for the relay when the next session began.

The dozen students climbed out of the pool, approached and greeted her, water running down their slender bodies, oblivious of their nudity. She was plainly a popular teacher. The exchange with the kids was an elixir for her mental state. The kids waved goodbye and headed for the showers.

During the break, Bob and Shannon spent some time getting to know each other a little better. They knew each other of course, but they had had scant opportunity to socialize. Bob learned that Shannon was divorced and had a daughter in seventh grade and a son in fifth. Bob commented on the obvious delight the kids had displayed on seeing her. She blushed a little but allowed that their response had pleased her.

Shannon was surprised to discover that she was quickly becoming more comfortable sans her clothes. She admitted to herself that her body was no longer slim and toned, but she was shyly proud of certain of her features. She blushed when she caught Bob appreciating her nice butt and legs, but smiled and chuckled when he discovered he had been caught in the act. She was even able to thank him out loud for the implicit compliment he had bestowed upon her. She began to feel, as she had heard Heather say, that she wanted to improve her image, and was willing to work to achieve success.

Soon, the second session brought two teams down to the pool. Both teams knew what to do and, after they too expressed delight in seeing Shannon, quickly got themselves down to business practicing their relay handoffs. Bob explained what she was seeing as they stood together beside the pool. She could see that Bob was trying mightily to keep his eyes on her face, but failing dismally. She even found the nerve to accuse him of appreciating her tits. Bob blushed, but confessed the truth of her accusation, and they both laughed.

For his own part, Bob began to feel the pressure that signaled the beginning of his arousal. He excused himself and began swimming laps. He drove himself, hopeful that the exertion would solve his problem. It worked. He slowed his pace but continued doing laps until his body was pleasantly fatigued. He climbed out of the pool and rejoined Shannon.

One of the teams was surrounding Shannon, chattering with her brightly. None of the kids showed the least concern with their nudity. Two of the boys sported erections but no one seemed to pay attention. The students were at least able to keep their eyes above Shannon's shoulders. Bob listened for a moment and then interrupted, reminding the students that they needed to keep working, either here in the pool or elsewhere. Conceding his point, they bid Shannon goodbye and headed for the lockers.

"I'm sorry I chased off your fan club," Bob told her.

"Don't worry," she replied, "you were right. I have to admit that it was difficult to stand there talking to them in the face of two hard dicks. They seemed oblivious."

"It doesn't take long to become accustomed to being nude," Bob answered as they watched a team file out of the pool area. "It is inevitable that I'll sprout an erection, too. I don't mind being nude, but I'm not looking forward to making a scene like that." They both chuckled.

And then Sandy walked in.

Bob and Sandy stood stock-still, gobsmacked, taking in the other's visage. Sandy made no attempt to keep her eyes up on his face. Bob's attempt was utterly futile. Bob had never gone from flaccid to rock-hard in so short a time. Neither moved in the slightest to get away from the other or to cover themselves. Both blushed vividly, and smiled at the other wanly.

Sandy shuddered visibly. She broke into a big smile and approached her dad. "I'll take that as the biggest complement I have ever had," she chuckled as she casually waved her hand at his crotch. Without the least modesty, she wrapped him in a full hug, his erection pressing firmly into her belly. "I love you, Dad. You are even more handsome than I ever imagined."

Bob was flummoxed. He gasped and sputtered, trying valiantly to regain the least modicum of composure. She pulled her face back to look at his. With an evil grin, she whispered, "I want to see it all red with my blood."

Bob was so thunderstruck that his knees nearly gave way. Sensing his distress, Sandy hugged him harder to support him. "Please, Kitten, you've gotta help me!" he whispered, almost frantic. "I've never been so aroused and so mortified in my life!"

She looked up at him, an impish grin on her face. "OK, Daddy," she softly said. "Let's re-take that train trip to Disneyland. That should be safe enough for you. Remember when you teased me with the drinking fountain on the train?"

He smiled. "You mean, when I was holding you, and you leaned down to drink, and as soon as you reached the water, it stopped?"

"Exactly," she giggled. "There was a foot pedal for the fountain, wasn't there? You moved your foot off the pedal every time, didn't you?"

He grinned shyly. "Guilty as charged."

"That was mean!" she laughed. "But that was the most vivid memory I have of the trip."

"Do you remember when we had to cross from one train car to the next how we were outside for a moment until we went into the next car?"

"I do," she giggled. "I remember it was cold out there. And I remember sitting at the table in the dining car, eating pancakes and watching through the window as the world whizzed by. I remember when the porter came and let the beds down from the wall and I climbed up there and looked over the edge. I remember how teensy the bathroom was in the room. I remember that I had the best time ever, Dad."

Her diversion was a tonic to him. As she relaxed, but did not release, her grip on his chest, his now-flaccid cock dropped back into place. "If I wasn't so very thankful for you coming to my rescue, I'd threaten terrible retribution, you minx!" he chuckled.

"Be nice, Daddy, or I'll paint a word picture of my masturbation fantasies," she smirked.

"You are awful, you know that?" he smiled. "And I love you more than life itself, at least half as much as I love your mother."

"Then I know for certain that my mother is the single luckiest woman on this earth, or anywhere else for that matter! And you, my poor old Dad, are the luckiest, most beloved man in the universe."

They both smiled broadly, peering into each other's eyes. "Enough of this, Scofflaw. You need to get busy!" he told her. They broke their embrace and, with a laugh, Sandy dove into the water.

Shannon had the grace to allow him time to recover at least some of his composure. When he finally approached her, she smiled warmly at him. "I must start with an apology, Bob, because I simply cannot resist: maybe the second time that happens to you in public won't be so painful."

"Oh, God, I hope so," he answered. "That was awful."

"And wonderful, Bob, admit it," she said. "Sandy is a beautiful young woman. I know how proud you are of her, and how much you love her. Welcome to a brave new world, Bob. Most people never see their grown children stark naked and glowing with lust and love. Any other reaction from you would have astounded me."

He smiled and nodded. With that, Shannon dove into the pool and began her first lap. Without thought, Bob dove in next to her and began trying to catch up. Shannon was a surprisingly strong and graceful swimmer. When she reached the end, she executed a flawless racing turn and headed back the way she came. Bob had never mastered that turn, and quickly realized that he had found his teacher. Now far behind her, he redoubled his effort to catch up to her.

He finished his lap and found her standing in the shallow end of the pool, water streaming down her chest. She smiled at him. After a breath or two, he asked, "Have you swum competitively? I saw your graceful turn, and couldn't match it."

She laughed gaily, nodding her head. "In high school, I was on the swim team," she told him. "It was a lot of fun. It's still good exercise. I'm going to get as much time in doing laps as I can in the next few months."

"Do you have any pointers for the kids on how they'll achieve their required distance under water?" he asked.

"I might," she allowed. "I have always concentrated on swimming laps when I got a chance in the pool, and when the kids didn't need close supervision. Let's try swimming a width, and see what I can still do."

They emerged from the pool and walked around to a point about two-thirds along the length of the pool. "Here goes nothing," she said as she dived in. Bob quickly followed. He swam with all his might, and was pleased to find that he had just enough in him to reach the other side, still underwater. He held the side of the pool and looked, but did not see Shannon. Finally, she surfaced, almost three-quarters of the way back. He swam free style back to join her. He found her along the side of the pool.

"You did wonderfully!" he chirped.

"Not too bad for one so far out of practice," she agreed with a smile. "I'm going to keep working on it for myself, and see whether I can transfer what little I know about it to the kids."

"Great," he beamed. "Can I ask a favor of you?" She nodded. "Will you teach me how to do a racing turn?"

"Gladly," she answered. "I owe you much more than that, but it's a start."

"But you don't owe me anything," he protested.

"Oh, but I do: not only have you shown me the grace and poise I needed to become comfortable in my birthday suit, Bob, you have saved my very life, and the lives of my children."

"Not guilty!" he shot back with a grin. "I'm just a poor old guy who helped make this Program happen!"

"You are far, far too modest, Bob," she said as she shook her head disapprovingly. "You know very well that you single-handedly made our dreams come true. Without you, we would have died, every last one of us. You ask anyone in town, anyone, who made this happen. Every last one of them will say it was Bob Minter."

"DON'T!" they heard loudly. They turned and saw a girl fighting off a boy, his erection rampant. They quickly climbed out of the pool and ran down to join the girl, who was still struggling to get away from the six-handed boy who was still pawing at her. When the boy turned to look, Bob landed a solid blow to the boy's solar plexus, doubling him up as he crashed to the deck.

Bob stood over the boy as he recovered, a vicious look on his face. Shannon had wrapped the girl in an embrace. The girl started sobbing uncontrollably. Shannon led the girl away to a bench and sat down, the girl beside her.

"Would you care to explain yourself?" Bob asked the boy ominously.

"I was just having fun," the boy whined. "I didn't mean any harm. You didn't have to hit me, man!"

"Go to the locker room," Bob growled. "Get dressed. Go home." He stood over the boy, watching him collect himself for a retort.

"You got in a sucker punch, old man," the boy hissed. "You can't make me leave." Bob instantly reached down, grabbed a fistful of the boy's hair, and frog-marched him toward the lockers.

"Which locker room is yours?" he asked the boy's teammates over his shoulder.

"The boys'," answered a girl. "We're the orange/white team."

Bob found the lockers marked orange/white. He released the boy with a shove. The boy rounded on Bob, taking a swing meant for Bob's head. Bob blocked the swing and landed his own mighty blow to the boy's jaw. The boy crashed back into the lockers and slumped into a heap. Hearing a sharp intake of breath, Bob turned and found a girl standing behind him, her hand covering her mouth.

"Go get Patti Hanson and Jean Stevens," he barked. When she remained frozen, he shouted, "Do it!" She tore away, as fast as she could go, oblivious to her nudity.

The boy was still slumped against the locker when Patti ran in, first aid kit in hand. Jean was only seconds behind her. "What happened?" said Jean.

By this time, the rest of the orange/white team was standing by in horror. "Tell her," Bob said to them.

"William was going after Brianna, touching her body and stuff. Brianna tried to get away, but he wouldn't let go. Bob and Mrs ... Shannon came to the rescue. When William still wouldn't let go, Bob punched him in the gut. Bob told William to get dressed and leave, but he wouldn't. Bob marched William in here. I didn't see the rest."

"I did," the first girl said. "When Bob let William go, William took a swing at Bob. Bob blocked the punch and hit William in the jaw. William just collapsed."

Patti had completed her preliminary evaluation. She extracted an instant ice pack from the first aid kit, activated it, and placed it on the boy's face. She guided his hand onto the ice pack. When she was satisfied that he could hold it in place, she turned her attention to the back of his head. The collision with the locker had opened the boy's scalp. Patti carefully cleaned, and then bandaged the cut. She moved away from the boy. "I'm pretty sure he's all right. We should get him to Ellen just to be sure."

Jean produced a cell phone and began to dial. "Dave," she said into the phone, we have a bit of an emergency. Please come to the boys' locker room, right now. Don't run, but don't delay, either." She listened for a moment. "OK," she said, and closed the phone.

"Where is Brianna?" asked Patti. With the answer, Patti shot down to the pool area.

Jean turned to the kids. "Does anyone have anything to add about what happened? Any objections to what I heard?" The kids all shook their heads. "You realize, don't you," Jean continued, "that William is all done here? That William is out of the Program? That your team is now one member short? Does anyone think William should be pardoned, and allowed to stay in the Program?" The kids uniformly shook their heads 'no'.

Dave Franklin walked in and quickly assessed the situation. "Remind me never to tangle with you, Bob," he said with a grim smile. He turned to Jean. "What do you want me to do?"

"Will you please load William into your car," Jean said, "and take him in to see Ellen? Patti doesn't think he's seriously hurt, but we need to be sure."

Dave simply nodded and began to get William to his feet. "Get dressed, Bud," he said, "and let's go."

William proceeded to get himself dressed, then turned to face Dave. "I'm sorry, Mr. Franklin," was all he said.

"Sorry doesn't cut it," growled Dave. "It's too late for 'I'm sorry' I'm afraid. Let's go." With that, Dave and William left.

"You realize, don't you," said Jean to the kids, "that expulsion from the Program is a death sentence? I mean that, it's a death sentence. William will be Swarm food. He has no other option."

The kids were stricken, appalled, horrified. With eyes like saucers, hands over mouths, they nodded.

"Let's go check on Brianna," said Bob. They all trouped down to the pool. Brianna had seemingly recovered and was no longer wrapped in Shannon's arms. Patti was kneeling in front of Brianna, talking to her.

Bob felt Sandy latch herself onto his side, her arm around his waist. "Are you alright, Dad?" she asked.

Bob inspected the back of his hand, found no blood, and answered, "Sure, Kitten, your old man is tough."

"You got that right about tough," she said. "I saw it all, Dad. I had no idea you could do that."

"Aw, twern't nuttin," he told her, looking down at her face. Fortunately, he was so rattled by the experience, he didn't have to worry about a repeat episode with his cock. 'Damn, ' he thought, 'she is breathtakingly beautiful.'

"Nothing? I don't think that was nothing, Daddy," she answered. "You demolished a twelfth grader. I heard what you did to him in the locker room."

"Well," he sighed, "it isn't anything to be proud of, anyway, Baby. A man shouldn't go around fighting."

"Dad," she said in exasperation, "you missed the point entirely. You saved Brianna. You saw what you had to do, and you did it. That's it."

"That's what you think, huh?" he asked.

"That's what everybody thinks, Dad. You gotta stop being a hero for the whole town, or you'll be insufferable. You're hard enough to deal with as it is," she giggled.

He roared with laughter. Everybody turned to look at him. He recovered himself, blushing. "Dang, now everyone will think I don't take this seriously."

"Dad!" she turned and socked him in the arm, hard. "You take everything seriously! You especially take your humor seriously."

"Oh, yea, like standing here, buck naked, being pummeled by my irresistibly sexy daughter is serious?" he chuckled.

She got a quizzical look. "You think I'm sexy?" she squeaked.

A look of shock on his face, he answered, "You, Sandy Minter, are almost unbearably sexy. You exude sexy. I'm gonna go get dressed before I have a heart attack."

"Don't you mean a hard attack?" she quipped with an impish grin.

He laughed. "Been there, done that. No tee shirts in the pool area." Now they both laughed. He wrapped her in a warm embrace and kissed the top of her head.

Amy had already been working on plans to reformulate the teams as students dropped out. She had not expected the first casualty to be so soon. She did expect fully 30% of the students to give up, or get bored, or complacent, and decide to drop out. She expected the number of students at the end to number less than one hundred. She expected to begin to see students drop out beginning next week and every week thereafter.

Thanks to a great deal of work, and more than a little luck, the initial make up of the teams included at least one student from each of the five grades, divided evenly between boys and girls. Today's single casualty would mean only that his team would have to carry on without him. There were no other existing teams short of members, nor any surplus members.

Having only hypothetical changes to deal with and, after a great deal of thought, she felt she had a workable method for re-constituting broken teams. Reconfiguration might result in some teams having more or less than the basic three boys and three girls. Some reconstituted teams might not have the ideal spread of grade levels. In all, though, she was sure she could handle changes as they occurred, even if the total number of dropouts far exceeded her worst fears.