Chapter 19

The level of excitement grew as they reached Wayward. The best part of the whole arrival for the younger members of the Jenkins clan came from the promise of camping. They would be living in a courtyard during the pod's conversion into their permanent home.

For the mothers in the group, concerns that were more serious circulated in their minds. Wayward's ecosystem had originally been terraformed for the Darjee. The form of plankton that thrived in the fresh water oceans was indigestible by humans. Fruits, nuts, and grains edible by the Darjee grew wild. Their complex starches and proteins required an altered set of human flora to be introduced into each person's digestive track to use these new food sources efficiently. Hoping to maintain the peace in her new colony, Governor Danvers had hosted several town meetings to allay the growing apprehensions. A key selling point for many of the mothers had turned out to be the promise of reduced gas during pregnancy.

The basic infrastructure of the colony had been roughed in before being mothballed years ago. One building stood waiting on Wayward, an empty shell destined to be the initial home for the government. It was shaped like a crescent, tapering from one story at both ends to five stories in the middle. The arms of the crescent encompassed a three-acre courtyard. To Bill, the building looked much taller than the five stories the windows hinted at.

Governor Danvers wanted to keep a tight rein on the colony. The Darjee expected this colony to provide an economic recovery for their investment in humanity. Danvers sought to create a contributing member to the Confederacy. The strength of Wayward would be the new extended family structure and a sense of community.

Seven males of the Jenkins family found themselves on tent erection duty. Once on the ground in the courtyard, everyone took a good look at his or her new home. The sky appeared powder blue. You could taste water in the air.

As the ranking Marine on site, Lieutenant John Spencer was responsible for setting up the tent city. He in turn fell back on his experience as the junior class sponsor. Erecting a hundred tents in four hours was nothing compared to decorating a gym for the prom. His men had practiced setting up each type of tent on the Kon Tiki during off-peak hours. Once the communal tents were pitched and staked, his forces would spread out to assist the colonists.

Lieutenant Spencer knew his three squads could have accomplished the same task in less time; however having the men of the colony invested in its creation would give them ownership. For the men under his command, it served multiple purposes; primarily they could see the benefits of working as a team. Helping the colonists who found themselves unable to work as cohesive units confirmed the lessons learned during basic training. For many of the marines, it proved a concrete need for a formal command structure.

Three hours, forty-seven minutes and two seconds later, the last team entered the mess tent for a noon meal. A light squall passed by during the meal. Monitors in each tent reported no leaks, which produced a round of cheers.

During the later supper, the interior beds would inflate. After eating, replicated PVC patio furniture would be carried to the tents for temporary use. Outside the gang showers, Lieutenant Spencer had stacks of the furniture placed for easy dispersal.

Bill took his entire allotment of tables and chairs back to the eighteen-room modular tent. Leslie had laid out a floor plan with their AI, Hobson. The extra pieces of furniture could be stacked just inside the entrance. Leslie might not have wanted more; but having additional pieces might prove to be the most prudent action, if she changed her mind.

"Anybody want to go back up to the ship tonight with Ray-ray?" Bill asked his crew of boys.

Bill should have asked, 'who wants to miss out on an adventure?'

No one volunteered. Bill hugged Ray-ray goodbye. In the last six weeks, the two men had formed a cohesive bond. Once it became evident that Leslie would run the household, the two men decided that it was their duty to keep the women smiling.

"Try to get some sleep, Bill." Ray-ray broke the hug.

Bill smiled back, "At least you get a bed to lie in."

"You bastard, Bill," Ray-ray placed the back of his right hand on his brow. "You know those freaky bitches, all I'll get is little sleep and a nightlong," he pumped his hips at an imaginary concubine, "lay."

They turned toward the tent entrance. "You've got the legs and ass for that." Bill popped Ray-ray's ass like a coach sending him into a game.

"Had I known the despicable and unmentionable sexual bliss, I was going to be subjected to. I never..." Ray-ray broke into a hearty laugh.

"Don't make me have your cum made to taste like dark chocolate." Bill shook his finger mimicking Leslie. Ray-ray had to sit on the floor to keep from falling over. He sucked in great quantities of air. Bill threatened, "Laugh it up, and I'll do that and tell every woman in the colony."

Ray-ray stopped mid-laugh. "Bill, my ass just recovered from all the groping. Don't do that, man."

Bill showed a sadistic sneer. "I could loan you to the governor for a night."

"That's not funny, Bill." Now it was Bill who fell to the floor laughing. Seconds later, Ray-ray joined back in.

"Thank the stars this didn't happen in the mess tent," Bert whispered to Ted.

"I'm just glad that Misty and Tiffany aren't here." Bert used a hand to point at the tent. "Those two would've wanted to christen each room before we ate." Every boy in the vicinity began to snicker.

A voice from the back of the group yelled. "Attack!" Soon a pile of males became entangled in a wrestling match, Ray-ray and Bill versus the twelve- and thirteen-year-olds. The scrum rolled around the entrance. They drew a crowd.

"We need a ref over here!" bellowed a loud, happy voice. "He should have been counted out twice!" Time passed, the crowd grew larger.

"One, two three, that's a pin," called Lieutenant Spencer. Bert found himself pulled from under Ray-ray's calves. Randy, Phillip, and Bill then suffered a triple count-out, and were summarily removed from the contest.

Louis and Ted remained locked in battle with Ray-ray. Ted lost his balance. Ray-ray rolled him into a classic small package. The lieutenant hauled Ted clear.

"Time for a submission move," Ray-ray yelled. He reached back and grabbed Louis's thigh. "The Seminole Sole Hold," he cried. There was a collective "ooh!"

Twisting and pulling quickly but not meaning to harm the boy, Ray-ray maneuvered Louis's right leg onto his chest. Louis's torso lay between his opponent's legs.

Louis felt Ray-ray begin to tickle his right foot. Powerless to pull away, he was determined to resist. Louis could feel the heavy muscles of Ray-ray's legs pinning him. He realized that the muscles were flexed just enough to hold him. His fingers could find no perch to pry or force them away. The tickling sensation began to crack his resolve.

Louis discovered he could move his thigh a bit. That few inches turned out to be useless. Ray-ray's gluteus muscles only let him wiggle like a worm on a hook.

Finally, Louis broke his silence. "I yield!"

A cheer from the gathered former combatants and spectators, the lieutenant raised Ray-ray's arm. "Once again, old age and treachery defeat youth and enthusiasm."

Ushering everyone into the tent, Bill sent the boys to first, test jump, and then make up, the beds. Twenty minutes later, they were finished. Happily, no one had broken bones.

"Let's go see Ray-ray off and then get some ice cream to eat, boys." Bill stood at the tent flap. The crowd headed toward the mess tent. Recaps of the wrestling action began stretching with each step.

On arrival at the mess tent, Louis caught Mr. Jenkins' attention and pointed at the restroom. Bill nodded his acknowledgement.

Entering the farthest stall, Louis eased his erection out of his shorts. Fortunately, his underwear had forced it sideways, helping to hide it. That side of his tighty-whiteys was slick with precum.

Slipping them off his body, he sat on the commode and thought for a moment. "Hobson are you there?"

A woman's voice answered. "Dependent Louis Jenkins, I am the Colony AI. I am acting in your AI's place until your pod is secure."

Louis examined his dilemma. He needed to beat-off really bad. He did not want to make Mr. Jenkins think he was trying to be sneaky. He just knew he needed some time to relieve himself. It was best to be honest.

"Please tell Mr. Jenkins that I'm jacking-off- ... I mean masturbating. I do not want him to worry." Louis began to squeeze and pump his erection.

"If an inquiry is made by Mr. Jenkins, he will be informed."

Louis stopped pumping his cock. "Thank you." When the AI didn't respond, Louis shrugged and started jacking away.

In the morning, Bill led the campers to the north side of the crescent building. Using a nexus, they jumped back up to the Kon Tiki. Bert led them back to the pod.

They would need to pack enough for two days of camping. It seemed so trivial that the entire family had become dependent on the replicators. Diapers, lotions, wet wipes, and four sets of clothes were packed for the little kids. Everyone else had two sets of clothes. Paper towels, spray cleaner, and a box of fifty heavy garbage bags sat by the door emblazoned with 'Mr. Jenkins'. This was Leslie's subtle hint as to who was to carry the box.

"Leslie, we will have access to a community replicator," Bill quipped. "You're over packing, dear."

A palpable silence engulfed Bill. He found himself suddenly alone.

"Urumph!" Leslie let her displeasures be known. Bill did not like that sound. Leslie continued, "I believe that I was placed in charge of the move to our temporary quarters."

The last time he heard that voice was at the Perez conference. The one when Mrs. Perez denied the image on the screen was her son pounding the back of another child. Leslie had called her a 'liar.' Bill stood very still; remembering what happened after Mrs. Perez tried to slap Leslie.

Bill tried a pout. Pulling rank would work but in the end would be disastrous.

"Shithead!" Leslie planted a kiss on Bill's lips. She fondled his package through his pants. Breaking the lip lock, she whispered, "I should tie your testicles around your neck in a bow."

Bill tried a Vulcan eyebrow.

"Do as I request, Mr. Jenkins."

Bill replied, "Yes, Mistress," doing his best to sound defeated.

Leslie kissed Bill again.

Pulling apart, she addressed the group. "Everybody put on your backpack."

The names on the bags helped. Bill found his. Slipping it on, he felt a tug on his pants leg. Looking down, he saw three-year-old Tina, who spun to show off her yellow and pink backpack.

"See mine, Papa?" Bill wished he had that grin to use on Leslie.

"That looks great, girl, you go."

Tina reached up for Bill. He knelt to embrace her. Tina put a kiss on each cheek. She then hugged his neck.

"Me got pillow and blanket to go camping." She tried to touch the backpack.

"The guys and I set up the tent. Are you ready?"

Tina nodded twice. "Where Hobson gonna be?"

Groucho was right: never work with kids or animals. Bill punted, calling subvocally, <'Hobson, help.'>

"Tina," Hobson called. "I will be landing the pod. I will then change this pod into the residence."

"Okay, Hobson," she answered wearing a serious look. Bill knew that Tina was trying to make sense of everything. Tina switched to a worried look. "How long till then?"

"That will take three night-nights and a lunch time, Tina."

Bill marveled at the fact that Hobson was able to convey time to the little girl. Tina could count, but had not been able to understand time. This was mind-blowing to Bill. He really wanted an Early Childhood Specialist to see this exchange.

"Bye-bye, Hobson," Tina blew a kiss into the air.

"Bye, Tina."

Bill half expected a return kissing sound. It never came. Tina wanted down. Bill decided to let the thought drop.

Stepping off the terminal nexus, the boys and men realized they were not at the base of the government building.

"Welcome to the State Ballroom in the Wayward Colony Government Center. You are temporarily housed in blue six." A dot flashed on the holographic three-dimensional map of the camp area rotating off to the side. "The meal schedule will remain the same." The voice was definitely the colony's female-sounding AI.

Looking down into the crescent arms, Bill could see the temporary tent city. The Jenkins clan found itself on the top floor of the government building. This open space was almost twice the size of a football field and designated to be a ballroom and exhibition space. A clear roof towered sixteen to seventeen feet above them.

"Not my Hobson!" Tina stamped her foot. "Who's it?"

Bill pleaded subvocally, <'AI, please respond to Tina.'> He understood then, in that moment, when females began learning how to manipulate males.

"Tina, I am the Colony AI."

"Colinda?" Tina had difficulty saying 'Colony AI.' "Do you know my Hobson?"

"Hobson is calculating a descent trajectory for your family's pod." The AI answered factually.

Tina flashed a serious visage and looked at Bill. "Tell my Hobson be careful, Colinda." Bill smiled at the girl.

"I verify all trajectory calculations."

Tina smiled, then ran to Eve. "Me need to potty."

Eve picked her up. "AI, where is the nearest restroom?"

"Twenty meters behind you," offered the AI, "any brown door. All are unoccupied."

"Evie, please," moaned Tina.

Eve turned. "Bert! Code-Two brown doors this way!" She began to run.

Bert started a sprint. Eve had a seven-meter head start. He passed Eve with five meters to go. Bert opened the door, Eve entered the opening carrying Tina, and Bert followed her in.