Chapter 3

The next few days were spent in checking out various ships of the fleet. In no case did we find any more living people. The Ichiro Massimoto, a ship of educators at the university level, was completely empty. There was not even a body to be found in the cryogenic cells. On the other hand, we did find a woman still alive in a cryogenic cell in the Manuella Sanchez. She was a teacher at the elementary level, and was going to be a real boon in a few years when our family started producing children. Genli N'Buto was very happy to join us and wanted to be included in my harem. Dammit, I was beginning to suffer an embarrassment of riches when it came to women. Believe me, I was anxious to find a least one more man!

We struck gold in the Heinrich Eisenhower. There were two women, Hester Malone and Judy Larson. But the real find as far as I was concerned was another man to help me with the fucking duty. He was Ed McCawly, a surgeon who was familiar with all of the medical gadgets that we had in the fleet. Hester Malone rounded out the medical staff by being a general practitioner. The title of internist had been abandoned around 2100. Finally, Judy Larson was an electronics engineer who claimed to be able to design and/or repair any conceivable electronic gadget. All three were welcomed, both for their skill and for their contribution to the gene pool.

We held a meeting and decided to keep me as tactical leader of the search program, but we were to be equal beyond that. The women would rotate in turn between Ed and me for fucking in an effort to get a wide distribution of genes. A point was made never to compare the sexual prowess of any of us, male or female. If one was better than the other, then so be it, but no public comparisons were ever to be made. We had no penalty established for breaking this rule, but we would think of something if the need ever came up. In any case, we were hoping to find more sexually active humans to add to the breeding pool.

We now had eight people in our extended family, and it was time to consider whether or not to move to another ship. As a group, we asked the computer for an opinion, and it said that we could stay where we were, unless we were unhappy with the ship. One thing to consider was that virtually all of the ships were built to three basic designs, differing only in size. The Harmony Goodson was of the largest design, so we were not going to find a larger ship.

On the other hand, the internal structure of the ship could be changed as necessary by the maintenance robots. If there was something we did not like, there was no big deal to changing or modifying it to fit what we would like better. The computer promised to warn us if any of our proposed changes would have a negative effect on the ship's structural integrity. That was the only limiting factor to keep us from doing anything we wanted.

That information was enough to keep us where we were now living. The whole ship could be converted into connected apartments as the need arose. At this point, we men stepped aside and let the women decide what they wanted to do with the current accommodations. The only change they wanted to make at this point was to add another apartment so that Ed and I would not overlap our fucking space.

What the women wanted was three bedrooms: one for Ed, one for me, and one for the women not currently having their turn with either one of us. Currently, Ed and I were fucking two women per night, and two women were taking a break from sex. Several ancillary rooms were needed, of course, but the women were certain that they could have a satisfactory arrangement worked out in a short time. Meanwhile, Susan and I could continue our search for more people to join us.

Our next visit was to the Buster Horton, a ship for general passengers with no specifically classified skills. This ship was arranged very much like the Space Marine troop carriers in that the majority of the space was devoted to cryogenic cells. As usual, the computer could not tell us much about what was currently going on aboard the ship, nor what had happened in the last nearly 20,000 years.

Naturally, as soon as we materialized in the transporter room, an intruder alarm went off. However, to our surprise and joy, it was cut off in seconds, and a voice was heard over the PA asking the usual question. "Who are you, and what do you want?"

A woman asked the question, so I had Susan answer the question. "We are part of a newly organized band of survivors, and we are trying to bring all of the survivors together to work out our future. May we talk to your leaders to determine just how to precede from this first contact?"

"Okay, I suppose that will be possible, but you must leave any knives or clubs where you are. We see that there are two figures in the room. I assume that you are one of the figures that I see, but I need to know if the other one is female or your male slave before we go any farther."

Using the secret Space Marine sign language, I told Susan to say that I was her male slave. We would have to play this meeting by ear. Susan gave that information, and we were told to wait for an escort. We waited for about 10 minutes for two women to show up.

The first thing one of the escort said to Susan was, "Can you assure us that your slave is sufficiently respectful of women and will not cause trouble if we allow him to come with you?" Susan responded correctly, and we were escorted to the ship's control room.

There we found eight women occupying various work stations around the control room and one woman sitting in what must have been the commander's chair, though she made it seem more like a throne. All of the women were nude and did not actually appear to be doing any real work. Each woman at the work stations had a servant, female, also nude, who was engaged in some sort of oral sex with the primary woman. Each of the primary women had a light chain fastened to her wrist, and the other end of the chain was fastened to the apparent slave or servant. The female slave had the chain fastened to a ring attached to her labia, apparently by piercing.

The woman in the captain's chair was also nude, but she had two slaves working for her. One of the slaves was engaged in cunnilingus and the other slave was sucking on the mistress' nipples. At her first word, it was obvious that the "captain" was the one who had spoken to us through the PA. Hardly had we arrived before the captain orgasmed.

"What do you mean by insulting us with a clothed male? Strip him immediately."

"I can't do that, Captain, without breaking the psychological bond that holds him in thrall to me. We are wearing a uniform that protects our skin when we enter unknown ships. The only practical thing for us to do is to continue wearing our protective suits until we get home. I am sorry if you feel insulted, but there is no way around the problem. By the way, my name is Susan."

"Very well, I will ignore the affront this time, but never let it happen again! Now, what is it that you want with us?"

"Actually, I am on something of an exploratory mission to find out what is left of the fleet that ventured from Earth nearly 20,000 years ago. The main computer has very little data about what happened to cause most of us to die out, and I have been charged with the task of finding that lost knowledge. Do you know what happened?"

"That was so long ago that all I have are some legends. As best as I know, a band of men tried to take over the fleet, and a valiant band of women defeated them. These women realized that men could not be trusted with any power and killed all but the few men needed to propagate the race. On this ship which we now call Lesbos, we women rule a perfect society with only a few men kept alive to breed as necessary. My name is Sappho, and you may address me as "your highness, Sappho."

"Very well, your highness, Sappho, do you object if I take a tour of Lesbos? I am interested so that I can take back a description of your society when I return to my ship. The perfection that I see here certainly piques my interest."