Chapter 2

Next Sunday the older folks stayed away. A third of the families were missing. Silas told the story of Gideon. In Judges 7, those few Israelites who were chosen from the many, as they were able to prove their worth. He used the slogan of the US Marines, 'a few good men'. He added Christian as an adjective. There needed to be those who would take what is Godly to the stars. Silas equated the Sa'arm to the worshipers of Ba'al.

This had a strange effect. Silas' ideas were tolerated more than embraced. Attendance increased the following Sunday. Several requests for change of membership arrived. He replied to each 'promise of a letter' by acknowledging that the individuals were members of Mount Elba Baptist Church.

Silas was able to find on an unofficial Wiki page about the Confederacy what purportedly was the speech given to people before they became concubines. It could be best described as brutally graphic, at worst, a verbal Viking raid. Silas knew he would need to express and convey the reality of the betrothal with each participant individually. The first betrothal ceremony was a week from Saturday. The Friday before, at seven o'clock, he would speak with the participants. That gave him just over a week to create everything.

Thursday morning he heard a knock at the door. Silas opened a door and discovered Sergeant Kinsman and another man. The pair looked like they were ready to go hunting. The backside of the church property did border on prime hunting land. Local hunters often used the parking lot to meet up. There was an old table on the parsonage's outer porch that they would leave notes where the hunters were going in case of an emergency.

"C'mon in," Silas brought the two inside the enclosed porch without much of a fuss. He closed the door, "Good to see you again, Sergeant." Silas pointed at the pegs on the wall. "Leave the heavy coats here; let's go inside, I'm freezing." The sergeant's companion carried a briefcase.

Silas closed the door. He pointed at the couch. "Coffee?" He walked into the kitchen. A breakfast bar opened to the great room. "Who is your friend there, Sergeant?"

"Pastor Merchant, this is Legate Hightower, Legate Hightower, Pastor Merchant."

"Pastor Merchant," Hightower called. "I'm Ralph."

"Only if I get to be Silas, sugar or creamer?"

"Two sugars, black," Ralph Hightower answered.

Kinsman called out, "Straight black, Pastor."

On the tray, he carried three cups. He sat down at the chair across from his guests. He placed a cup before each of them. "How can I help you gentlemen?"

"I'm here about your pending ceremony." Ralph took a sip. "Your most recent sermons have placed additional requirements on Confederacy volunteers."

Silas smiled. "I did not know my authority had such a vast reach."

"The differences between what is the reality in the colonies and the picture you paint are galactic in scope." Ralph stated this as a matter of fact. "The AIs set the rules. We can not make those machines change."

Silas decided to counter the argument. "Are these absolutes of minimum behavior or expected behavior?" Silas read the men's faces. They had no direct obvious response. Everyone took a sip, stalling as they thought.

"Do either of you have children in the Confederacy?"

"I have three, two by pick-up adoption," Ralph spoke with a small smile, "and one born last week."

They looked at the sergeant. "The first one arrives next month."

"Think of how you would treat their mothers." Silas paused. "Are they not disposable? Could you not trade them away? Aren't they just toys to be shared?" The sergeant's face had turned slightly red. The muscles above the legate's left temple fluttered. "Think of those as rhetorical questions."

"People will live down at their most base level unless they have a goal." Silas grabbed a bible on the coffee table. "I did not seek to change the rules, just how they are applied."

The legate probed Silas's position. "Those applications would be what?"

"The old testament has certain rights and responsibilities of husbands, toward wives, concubines, and slaves." Silas took stock of their reactions. "The ability to remove a servant from the household is clear. However, it also dictates that the children are to be the master's children. If he adds additional servants, he cannot deny the first servants sustenance, comfort, or marital relations. Just think about the family structure for the next generations. Many studies show abuse of children, spouses, substances, you name it. These actions are predominately learned and emulated behaviors. Biblically, this is the passing of the sins of the father to the child."

"How then," Legate Hightower sat up straight, "does having some non-binding religious mumbo-jumbo help that?"

Silas took another sip. "I can't provide an answer, as I have no practical experience with Confederacy Families. However, I can draw this analogy. I need a pen and paper."

Silas stood and headed toward the breakfast bar. Ralph opened his briefcase, which promptly spilled onto the floor. "Got a pen." He and the sergeant quickly picked up the scattered documents.

"Noted," Silas returned with a letter-sized notepad and the coffee carafe. He topped off his cup. Then he looked for approval before refilling their cups.

"I'll make this analogy with students. I am thinking of the second generation born in space." Orienting the page to a landscape view, he drew a vertical line, further dividing the paper. "On the right, I'll place a Confederacy family. The head of this family can treat their servants any way they wish. On the left, a head of a family that treats their servants as persons whom they are responsible for." Silas wrote the number 100 on each side. "These are the 100 children from each type of family, half male, half female. Based on my experience, I predict only about ten boys and one girl of these children," he pointed at the right side, "to overcome the demonstrated poor examples of loyalty, leadership, and empathy ... Do I need to continue?"

Ralph looked at Silas. "I am beginning to see your point."

"These hundred here would have family dynamics similar to existing homes on Earth: a leader to emulate, the loyalty of family, the example of compassion..." He looked at both men. "The ratio of these children, I would place at the present pickup level of forty boys and seven girls as future sponsors."

"Guys," the sergeant spoke up. "The AIs will not change."

"Yes, but..." Ralph tapped his fingers. "If it can be shown that it helps produce more sponsor-level candidates, the AIs might change."

"I never meant to change anything," Silas admitted. "I just wanted to make the concubines' lives better."

The sergeant and legate smiled. "Sorry, but there is potential here," Ralph added. "Let's move onto the ceremony. Once we have it fleshed out, we'll post it on the Sa'arm Wiki Site."

"I have one scheduled for a week from Saturday," Silas stated, "in the sanctuary."

Friday evening, Silas welcomed Joey Martin, and his ... well harem, into the parsonage. They sat in the great room. Silas had hot water ready to make tea or hot chocolate. On the coffee table were a few finger foods. "Before we discuss the ceremony, I need to make sure you understand the implications." He placed an opened folder next to the carrot sticks. A full-page flier for Average Joes was revealed. "Yes, I have seen the Blue-Ray." Silas smiled. No one could meet his quick gaze. "Joey, why these four?"