Chapter 10

The following day we began to hear rumours. They were odd at first, not making a lot of sense. It soon became apparent that many people on board were blaming Islamist terrorists and fundamentalists for the attack at Balmoral and the murder of the Royal Family. This, so the rumours suggested, was in revenge for either the Israeli attack on Mecca, or the fact that the Middle East was barred from being collected. Some were blaming the Jews as well, and a few times when we were in the refectory things were said that were not very pleasant. Being Jewish is not the same as being Israeli, and too many people were forgetting that.

"The problem is," Roger told me quietly, "a mob is only as intelligent as its least intelligent member." I gave a half smile, and nodded. "Look around you," he told me. "If you look carefully, it's not just the sponsors making the noise. In some cases it's the concubines. Especially the males. Look. Probably lower intelligence, definitely more easily swayed by rubbish headlines. Though why they would think Islamist rather than Irish Republican or some other group I don't know."

I nodded. "Because the IRA haven't been active for a few years? Because the Islamists have?" I shrugged. "Militant Islam was in the news not long before we went down the mountain. Dai Thomas was talking about it if you remember. I'm not totally surprised people have made that assumption."

"True. But it's still only an assumption." He nodded at a couple of families on the other side of the refectory. "You can see people getting worked up about things they don't know."

I nodded. "I think we'll head back home. We don't want to be caught in this if something happens."

Roger nodded his agreement and I tapped Huw's shoulder. He looked at me and I could see that fury was building up in him, not directed at me though. A perfect example of what Roger had just been saying.

"Let's go," I said.

"Yeah, we gotta go find them."

"No," I said firmly. "We're going home. You need to get back to Janine if you want to become a sponsor in your own right."

"Oh. But what about the ragheads? We... ,"

I slapped him, hard. I was starting to get angry with him. Anything he might do would reflect on me as his owner. I had to get him to calm down, and quickly.

He turned sharply and raised his fist. "SLAVE!" I said sharply, aggressively, glaring at him.

He opened his mouth to speak, then realised what I was saying. He paused and nodded, his internal anger dampened down, but didn't go out.

Once in the pod, Roger took him to one side and spoke to him. I could see Huw was frustrated at first, but as Dad continued to speak to him, the anger and frustration left him. "I'm sorry," he told me an hour or so later. "I wasn't thinking straight."

"Thinking about your actions is important if you expect to become a sponsor in your own right."

He nodded. "I'm sorry."

I clapped him on the shoulder and sent him to Janine.

There weren't any riots: the AI's had alerted security and although no curfew was announced, for a few days armed marine guards were evident everywhere.

Quite by chance I saw Danny a few days later. He was talking to one of his officers. Lieutenant Reilly, the ex-Texas Ranger if I remembered correctly. Reilly had obviously been in a fight, as he was favouring his left arm slightly, and there were three unconscious bodies not far away, and a couple more people down and groaning.

"You should have called for backup, sir," I heard Danny say.

"One riot, one Ranger, Corporal, you know that." He marched off leaving Danny staring after him, a very startled look on his face. After a few seconds he just started to laugh, shaking his head disbelievingly.

"Hey, Danny," I called. He stopped, saw me and waved, heading in my direction.

"You okay son?"

"Aye. Everything okay?"

"Another minor fight." He chuckled slightly. "Lieutenant Reilly sorted them out." He waved behind him at the five people being collected by the rest of Danny's section. "This is only the second minor incident so far. Fortunately for them, these five were just being foolish. Hopefully they'll go home and see sense. Some Jewish passengers are going to be put on trial for attempting to get into a pod that had what they thought were Muslims in. They were actually Hindus but that's what stupidity gets you."

"Carrots," I said. Danny looked at me oddly, but said nothing. "Make these ones watch the trial and see what they only just missed out on."

Danny nodded. "Maybe."

"Do we have many Moslems on board?" I continued.

"A few, you can ask the AI, it'll probably tell you. Just don't go causing any problems. And make sure your slaves don't either."

"Don't worry, I won't." I was slightly startled that Danny had referred to my family as 'slaves'. Generally he used 'family' or occasionally 'concubines'. I guessed it was just stress.

He nodded and hurried off, while I continued on to my training.

When I did ask the AI later that evening, I got some numbers.

"There are eleven Moslems aboard in two households, twenty-one Hindus in four households, five Sikhs in a single household, and seventy-six Jews. Sixty-one of the Jews are in eight Jewish only households, the remaining fifteen are scattered amongst the rest of the population, as concubines in otherwise non-Jewish families. Your concubine Janine Miller is one of those fifteen, as is one of the concubines of your colleague Jack Power."

My mouth dropped in surprise. "Oh. Oh." It had really never occurred to me that Janine might be Jewish.

"Um, of those, who caused the trouble?"

"Two sponsors and three concubines from two related Jewish only households have been arrested."

"What will happen to them?"

"That has not been determined; however going by past experience of Captain Night, if he finds them guilty, they will likely be recycled."

"Oh shit. What will happen to the rest of their households if that happens?"

"The remaining three concubines, and the four dependent children will be given to the Civil Service for disposal as appropriate."

"Um. Does that mean recycling?"

"Not necessarily. It's possible they'll be placed with other families."

Not with me, I thought. I didn't need the extra bodies.

"Oh. Right. Fair enough, I guess."

The following day the AI told me, when I asked, that the five, all men, had already been recycled.

I sort of forgot about it for a couple of days, until the AI chimed up as the family was sitting down to breakfast.

"Emergency. Lieutenant Carter. There is a distressed female volunteer outside your door begging for help. Marine forces have been dispatched, but they are a few minutes away. Please assist."

"Open main door," I yelled as I bolted for the entrance-way.

In the door, blood pouring from her head, was a woman I vaguely recognised as my immediate neighbour, pod Green Seven. Quite apart from being injured, she looked very upset. "Leave the door open for when the marines arrive," I told the AI. I lifted her and half carried her through to the living area. Imogen and Branny had followed me to see what was going on, and by the time I returned with the woman they had already cleared one of the settees for me to lie her on. Mum had grabbed a damp cloth, while Branny was getting basic first aid stuff from the replicator. Even as I was examining the deep gash on her forehead, the blood flow was rapidly diminishing. The nanites in her system I guessed.

"That's quite impressive," Imogen said softly, staring.

"You okay ma'am?" I asked.

"He's dead," she said, tears coming to her eyes as Imogen gently cleaned her face.

"Who is?"

"My husband. He tried to kill," she burst into tears and it took us a few minutes to calm her down again.

"Knock knock," called a voice urgently. "Confederacy marines. We're coming in." They weren't asking permission, they were telling me.

Roger quickly went into the corridor and directed them towards us, two men and two women.

"What's going on?" asked the lance-corporal in charge.

I quickly told him what little I knew.

"Is she concubine or volunteer?"

"Volunteer," supplied the AI. "This is volunteer Ameera Shafeeq."

"What's her background?" I asked.

"She was picked up in Bristol, and is of a Pakistani Moslem background."

I grimaced and let Imogen and Branny take over. Moslems and Hindus could be quite funny about letting a 'strange' male touch their females.

"She was saying someone has died?" Roger added.

"Where's she from?"

"Next door I think. Green seven."

"Right." The Marine stared at me. "Look after her for now." He beckoned the rest of his people to follow him.

He was back a few minutes later. "Who's in charge here?" There seemed to be suppressed fury in his voice.

I stood up. "I am."

He took me outside and gave me a quick update.

"There's a dead man in there, plus a woman and two young children locked in an inside room. The AI tells me they are safe and unhurt, but it can't, or won't, open the door. Since it would appear that the woman you have is the master in this household, she is to be placed under arrest pending..." he broke off and I saw his eyes go up. He was getting information from the AI.

"Uh." His whole demeanour and expression changed, and the anger in his voice faded to be replaced by sorrow. "Forget that. She'll need to come to the medical bay for a check-up."

I frowned slightly. "What happened then? She didn't kill him?"

"Not according to the AI."

"Oh?"

The lance-corporal just shook his head. He went all brisk and business-like on me. "Thank you for your assistance. When the corpse has been removed, can you spare one of your female concubines to assist the surviving concubine next door? I don't know what condition she is in, and under the circumstances she may not respond to a male presence."

I nodded. "Yes, sure. Janine's got two young sons, she'll probably be the best one to help. But if it's only for a couple of hours, they can come here."

"Mmm. If you're okay with that, and the volunteer agrees, but we need to get her to the medical bay right now."

I nodded and went back in. He followed with one of the female team members, who picked up the still gently sobbing woman as if she weighed nothing.

It was agreed that Janine should go next door for the time being, and try and persuade the woman there to bring her children to us. By the time I left for my marine training, nearly half an hour later, Janine hadn't yet returned.

I got home a little late that evening, our training had run on as a number of us, including both Melissa and myself, had had real problems with one of the practical low gravity exercises. I'd ended up injuring my left wrist and had spent ten minutes in a medical tube, about the minimum time anyone ever went in for.

"Janine's still next door," Roger told me. "The volunteer, Ameera I think, got back about ten minutes ago. She came in here just to say thanks, and left only moments before you got here. I can't imagine Janine'll be much longer."

"That was a long time. Surely she wasn't in the medical bay that long?" In fact thinking about it, I knew she hadn't been, I'd been in there not that long ago, and she hadn't been there then.

Roger shook his head. "She was being questioned. By quite a lot of different people apparently. Captain. Medical Officer. Civil Service officer. Psychologist. Psychiatrist. Everyone and their dog by the sound of it."

I smiled slightly and nodded, heading into the shower to get cleaned up.

When she came back a few minutes later, Janine gave us a brief update.

"Ameera's husband tried to kill her, then did kill himself."

"Why?"

"Rania, that's Ameera's other concubine, thinks that Saqib couldn't live with being the concubine to a woman. I think that they all thought they were modern enough to cope, but they weren't. He wasn't anyway."

"So was Saqib?" I questioned the pronunciation of the name, and continued at Janine's nod, "her husband before they were picked up?"

"Yes. She has a six point nine apparently. Saqib only had a five point nine."

"And Rania?" Imogen asked.

Janine shrugged. "She didn't tell me. Saqib had been getting very up tight for some weeks now, and Rania thinks something just triggered him off. He tried to commit suicide, which is very un-Islamic anyway," that comment reminded me that Janine had been brought up Jewish, but I said nothing and allowed her to continue.

"And tried to take the rest of them with him," continued Janine. "Ameera fought him off but got hurt letting Rania escape with Ameera and Saqib's two kids."

"Ah. How old are they?" I was meaning the children, but Janine answered for the whole family.

"Saqib was twenty-seven, Ameera and Rania are both twenty-five, and the two kids, Abdul the boy and Reem the little girl, are five and three."

"Okay." I forgot about them and turned my thoughts to my late dinner, and to Siân and Stacy who were spending that night with me. Branny was feeling a bit sick, and wanted a night on her own.

I was surprised therefore when, three days later, as I was walking home from my training, I got a message through my internal AI interface asking me if I would kindly visit Ameera.

I guessed from the wording that it was her request.

"Tell her I have a free day tomorrow, and ask will that do?" I sent.

"That will be fine. She requests a morning visit if that is convenient."

"Ten AM?"

"Accepted," came the eventual reply.

I mentioned it briefly to Roger who pondered for a moment, then said slowly, "loan her Huw."

"What?"

"I think she's realised she doesn't have a male in her pod, and needs one. It's probable she would prefer a Moslem, but also realises that that in turn may cause similar problems so is going outside her comfort zone."

"Oh. Interesting. So I wonder why us."

"Only a guess," said Roger, but I would think she's already worked out that we're neither Jews nor Moslems, and after that, I guess she'll know we helped her once, and hopes we'll help her again. She probably knows we're a fairly large 'family', so will hope we have a male to spare." He nodded. "As I say, offer to loan her Huw, but make sure she understands that it is only a loan. For now anyway."

"All right. If that's what it's about."

That night, on one of her rare visits to my bed, Imogen agreed with Roger. Both Stacy and Branny were feeling sick that night, and Siân had gone with Roger. As usual Huw was with Janine. I hoped he would get his CAP, it was clear the two of them had formed a real bond.

After Imogen and I had made love and had both recovered from some amazing orgasms, we lay, cwtched up close, and talked for a while.

"Your father's right. Loan her Huw."

"What?" I had to think for a moment what she was talking about. "Oh. You sure he'll be right for her?"

"I think so. He's finally learned how to be a very gentle lover, and she'll probably need that. You know that Janine is never going to be truly comfortable having sex, and I'm sure what we've done would help to bring her sex score up a little if she was ever re-tested, but she told me that Huw was exactly what she needed. He doesn't demand sex from her, and if they go without for a few days, or even longer, it will never bother her."

She paused for a moment. "I think that's what the young woman next door will need. For now anyway." She nodded slowly, deep in thought. "Yes, I do believe that if Roger's correct in his assessment, you should loan her Huw for a week."

"Only loan? Not transfer him?" I actually had no intention of transferring him, but I wanted mum's opinion.

Imogen smiled. "No. You would upset Janine for sure if you did, and she almost certainly wouldn't be able to go along. I would miss him as well." She reached down and stroked my cock. "I want to keep all my family together for as long as possible. I know we'll slowly split up anyway, eventually. Go our own ways. But I hope you'll hold on to Branwen."

"If I can I'm going to hold on to Siân as well," I told her. "I'd like to hang on to you," she gave me a quick squeeze, "but if Dad does manage to get the good CAP score I think he deserves, I'll transfer you to him if that's what you both want."

She smiled her pleasure, then frowned slightly. "How will you hold on to Siân?"

"She and I have already talked about getting a joint pod together. Sharing pods. Sharing concubines as well I guess. Having a single household with two sponsors in. Apparently it's quite allowed."

"Ah. Oh." Mum paused. "What a good idea," she murmured. After a moment she rolled on top of me and kissed me gently. I returned the soft kisses. A few minutes later she wriggled her hips slightly, and reached behind her to get at my now solid cock. With a quick shimmy that made my heart pound with lust and desire, my mother pressed my cock inside her perfect pussy once more.

To my astonishment, Roger turned out to be basically correct in his guesses.

"Come in," Ameera said with a gentle, sad smile, when I announced myself at her door at ten the following morning.

"Hello, I'm Llewelyn, but just call me Lew."

"I spent a lot of time in South Wales: Newport and Cwmbran especially," she said with a smile, and promptly pronounced my name correctly.

I nodded my head in apology. "Fair enough."

Her accent had no Indian or Asian in it at all. It was an educated English accent, with overtones of Bristol. "Please, sit."

I did so with a smile, and then nodded and smiled my acceptance when she offered me a cup of green tea. I hadn't had green tea in years, and hadn't particularly liked it then, but this was very different, and very delicious. And very refreshing.

"Thank you for your help the other day," she began.

I started to tell her we'd done nothing, but she barely let me speak.

"Your Janine brought her two little boys in to play with my two children, and she and Rania talked a lot. It helped her, and that has helped me."

"You're very welcome."

She gave another sweet smile, and if I hadn't already known how old she was, I would have thought her much closer to my own age. Except that of course maybe she was now younger looking than she had been, I thought, but wasn't rude enough to enquire.

"So how can I help?" I asked softly.

At her blush I looked down at the tea. "This is delicious," I told her.

She just nodded. She was scared, that was for sure, and it took her a while to come to her request, but my bland comment had given her time to gather her thoughts.

"My husband Saqib was unmanned by the experience," she told me, "by the experience of being subservient to a female. We talked about it a lot before we were picked up, and we really thought we could make it work." Not once did she look at me, but talked to the floor all the time. Too embarrassed I guessed to look at me. "But the reality didn't work for him. I am, was, a chemical engineer, but I hadn't been working all that long, and there were a number of people more senior to me."

"Were they more experienced than you?"

She looked at me. "Oh yes. This isn't a complaint. I had only been working three years, and it was a big company."

I just nodded. "Sorry, go on."

She looked down again. "Saqib was his own boss. He ran a small stationary and printing business and employed two other people. He was used to being in charge, I wasn't. At home we were modern," she paused and gave a small smile, though still not looking at me. "Modern for Moslems. He treated me as an equal. He made decisions, but he also asked me for my opinions, and allowed, expected me to make my own decisions about things that affected me more than him. As far as it is ever possible for two people, we were equals. He was," she paused and smiled. "I loved him, and I think he loved me, but when he realised I was his boss; more, I was his owner, he was my slave, it got to him. He tried. He really did. But it unmanned him. In our culture even being equals as we were is not that common, but for the woman to be the superior just doesn't happen. Ever. Not really."