Jarhead: High IQ isn't Always Good

This time, the tram didn't have two trailers, it had five, and all of them were packed.

Of the 20 people in my calculus class, 14 had been girls and six were guys. All 14 were on the tram, and two of the guys. Those two guys, however, were gay, so I was pretty sure I didn't have competition there.

Where the other four guys from that class went, I didn't know, and I worried if they were given concrete galoshes, as the saying goes.

My orchestra was 42 people, of which 27 were girls in various grades. All were there.

My chorus was 61 people, of which 43 were girls, also in various grades, and all of them were there too.

All eight girls from the cross country and track teams were there, with one exception, a special needs girl with Downs, was missing. She had run with us despite some physical challenges. We liked her, she always worked hard and did what she could, it was inspiring.

There were 74 new people, some of whom weren't 18 and I decided to pay close attention to that. The powers-that-be put these people in with me, but I wasn't going to be a perv. I certainly had enough options without them. Maria and I talked about it, and she took my request to heart.

In the logistical sense, I had no idea how we were going to cope with the influx. Sure, there was plenty of space to sleep, giant bunk rooms and lots of them, not just in our building but also in the other 11 buildings next to Parker.

Looking at the greenhouses though, I could see that setting up all the equipment was going to take quite a while and the extra strong arms would come in handy.

What I very much wasn't easy with was the fact that with 72 new women in the group, this harem anime was turning into a dystopian isakai where the male protagonist gets mobbed.

The tram had stopped and I'd stopped in front of it. Looking at everyone that got off, everyone had a backpack that looked like US army desert camouflage colors.

On the plus side, they were all wearing the same clothing, again. All US army fatigues and sturdy hiking boots. They were better off than we were, we didn't have proper clothing yet.

Maria got out in front of everyone and yelled out orders, getting people organized and into rows, for some reason.

I had to laugh, you can take the girl out of the army but you can't take the army out of the girl.

On the other hand, we might all from the perspective of the government still be in the army.

Maria explained to the layout of the place, figuring they didn't know much about it. That looked correct since everyone was paying close attention.

I looked over the faces to see if there was anyone I recognized or didn't.

There were four mystery faces. Three were older, and in their 40s at least. One was a younger girl, maybe 4th grade-ish, bald, standing next to one of the older ladies in a way that made me think they were mother-daughter.

Of the whole assemblage, the only person that looked nervous was the younger girl.

The sky look like it was going to rain pretty soon so Maria had all of us head downstairs to the cafeteria space.

The cafeteria kitchen opened onto a large cafeteria in one direction, enough space for maybe 200 people. Since it was the one with tables and chairs, that's the one we were using, but there was another one and the other direction that was significant way larger but empty.

Maria must have heard they were hungry after their trip, so we all got to work quickly to get them fed.

Maria had a priority for me, to stand off by the edge of the cafeteria with most of the first arrivals, to form some kind of greeting line.

One table of eight people at a time, came up and filed through to say hello to us. Most everyone knew Mads already, and had seen Cleo on occasion. Those who had been at the bathrobe party had met Cleo, Patti, and Anne.

Absolutely everyone knew me except the people I noted who were strange faces.

Two of the older women were physicists and had reviewed one or more papers by me, but all they could remember of them was that they were full of Mickey mouse cartoons.

The third older woman was a medical doctor, an OB/GYN.

The younger girl that was with her was not actually her daughter. She was a child leukemia survivor who had been given an experimental treatment. That treatment had put her to sleep for about 3 weeks but she confided to me that she woke up significantly smarter than she had been.

She didn't know why she was there, but she had been told that the woman she was with was her new legal guardian and she should call the lady her mother.

The doctor was standing right next to her as she said this, and agreed that they weren't related but they had decided together that since they had to be in this new place, they would think about each other that way.

Doctor had a good idea as to why she was there, She had read a document that specified her duties and it was reasonably obvious that our outpost was going to need plenty of OB/Gyn care.

The girl had not been told why she was there, except that it was important given the nature of her medical treatment. That didn't make sense to her or the doctor.

I decided not to say anything for the moment despite knowing exactly what was going on.

== Chapter: Reorganization ==

Accommodations for everyone was sorted out by Maria along clear lines: If you were under 18, you would stay in the South Wing, farthest from the door, on the 3rd floor. That included Paula and her two kids, and all the girls who weren't seniors, plus the one senior who wasn't over 18 yet.

Maria wanted a clear delineation as a starting point, for future reference, that there'd be no sleeping with Kevin until the person was over 18.

I was okay with that, for Damn Sure, since I had more harem members than I knew what to do with anyway.

The extra manpower was very welcome and inside of 3 days we had most of the furniture built for ourselves and our shared room-spaces.

Getting the kitchen set up took another week, about.

The animal barns needed work, stuff we found out about by actually reading the operations manuals stored in the safe, as Agent Three had told us on the first day.

Having MOAR people isn't Moar-Better, if you feel compelled to learn about them, and love them the way they love you.

Another week passed. The greenhouses had shoots in them, things planted.

Cleo and Mads started getting sick in the mornings. Paula, Cleo's mom, and my mom all helped out to clarify what was going on.

I had a new pattern to learn.

Either Cleo OR Mads would sleep with me every night, but the other person would be one of the new group, at their insistence. They wanted alone time with me, but sharing me with one of my 'first wives' was required so that's what happened.

Another 3 weeks went by.

Another 9 girls announced to the group that they'd missed their periods, and beamed with delight. I congratulated, too, but it was daunting. What kind of dad was I going to be?

Mr. Dawkins and I took some walks, and he prepared me for how things were going to work.

First, he said, even if you're in the delivery room, the point of maximum stress is NOT the birth - yes, that's stressful, but in hindsight, it's the point about 3 full days after the birth. You're both tired, he said, not sleeping enough, not used to things, waking for every sound, panicking over stupid shit, and you haven't done laundry or dishes and it's getting dangerous.

Then, he said, was the ideal time for helpers to step in.

The best helper was someone who just showed up 72 hours after you return home, asks if you mind if they do your dishes, does them, waits for them to dry and puts them away, and leaves. No contact. No talking. No interaction. Just swoops in and does dishes, and leaves.

Likewise, someone who shows up, takes all your laundry to a laundromat, and returns with everything clean and folded and puts it away for you, then leaves. No contact. No talking. No interaction. Just rescues, and leaves.

I nodded, this made some sense.

"As husband and new father, everything is wrong, day 3 to day 4. You have tons of unanswered, really unformulated questions. You have no answers. You have no SLEEP, what you get is interrupted. Telling you now. Go to sleep at 7:30 pm. Figure sometime over the course of 12 hours, you'll get 6 or 7 hours of sleep. You have to plan for the 12 to get the 7. There's five hours of pacing, worrying, discussing, planning, dishes, food prep, schlepping something, etc. worst is day 3 or 4. After that, you get the hang of it."

This was a relief, to a point.

"Are you going to be worried, your daughter's giving birth?"

"When did my worry stop? It started the day she was born, through every birthday to now, and on until my own dying day, I will worry about her and love her and help her any way I can. That's being a dad. It's okay. You can do other things, too, but... priorities. Love Comes First."

He had that right. And, for the father I missed out on having, I loved him, too.

== Epilogue ==

My name is Kevin Kooper. I have 65 (surviving) wives. I have 552 children, though about half of them were adopted out before age 2 to let them have normal lives.

Wherever we are, we're not in Massachusetts. Beyond that, I don't care. I'm retired now.

What I've been is a scholar of history and that's fine. I gave up math. I LOVED math, but I could not do math. I might accidentally let something slip. Better to let it go.

I loved playing piano, too. I had lots of pieces I performed with the orchestra and chorus, some of which I composed, some not.

My mother married Mr. and Mrs. Dawkins (Cleo's parents), making them a throuple. She's been happy, and I'm happy for her. It's a privilege to be, officially, the stepson of Mr. Dawkins. Mom wasn't young enough to have more kids, but she's been a fixture in our community - being a nurse in our clinic, being a teacher of nurses to her grandchildren, a "grammie" to all the kids, and still (for me) an epic Mom (Yay, Mom!).

I've been a pretty good dad, I think. Certainly, I'm an imperfect one - I lack patience and have worked on that (meditation and deliberate sit-downs as a group), lots of times, but I give good hugs and encouragement and that's fine.

I do act as a musical instructor, sometimes.

We have a few pianos in 'town', and we keep them in tune. I've spent many, many hours learning pieces, and I'm the first to stand up and clap when one of the kids gives a recital, too.

We have no radio, no TV, no way of knowing anything. There have been earthquakes in the area, 46 years and 3 months after we arrived. And, we've seen lights moving in the sky, undoubtedly some kind of rocketry project.

I really, really hope they put Mankind off-planet and insulate us from the mistakes of other humans, even ones that Use Math.

Lately, the lights in the sky are bright blue, intense flashes that only last an instant. I've tried figuring out how fast they are, using several disks with slits. Spinning the disk gives a chance for a light shining through to be seen, if the light is on long enough. It proves the flashes are no more than 1/1000th of a second. Something is happening up there.

And yet, here we sit.

Sometimes I wonder if we've been forgotten entirely.

And maybe, if we have, that's a good thing.

It's possible to read all the books in the base library, and still enjoy some of them the second time around, even if you have perfect memory.

So, from my family and friends, please accept our happy support on your journey to the stars.

May you have many happy babies.

Lately, the lights in the sky are bright blue, intense flashes that only last an instant. I've tried figuring out how fast they are, using several disks with slits. Spinning the disk gives a chance for a light shining through to be seen, if the light is on long enough. It proves the flashes are no more than 1/1000th of a second. Something is happening up there.

And yet, here we sit.

Sometimes I wonder if we've been forgotten entirely.

And maybe, if we have, that's a good thing.

It's possible to read all the books in the base library, and still enjoy some of them the second time around, even if you have perfect memory.

In retrospect and over the years, I am still uncertain if the governmental powers that put us here had a hand in influencing Mads and the others - before we were kidnapped - or if Mr. P or others were coerced into the actions they took.

If they did control people's motivations, and played with all of our lives as they showed they could, I can't know if the original falling in love Madison did with me, or any of the others, for that matter, was influenced or directed or happenstantial.

It could be that the girls that attended the Bathrobe Party were really just acting normally for them.

I'm pretty sure Madison wouldn't have fallen for me so quickly, but we were really close, and it wasn't that far outside the realm for her to of reasonable for her to have 'gotten closer' to Cleo and I. Still, it's unlikely. I have to accept that I'm not really that exciting of a person. Humility has taken many decades to take hold, but alas, it's here.

Even with the doubts I have of the origins of their affections, I've done what I can to live up to the expectations of my new family. After all, what kind of jerk would I be if I rejected people who feel they love me? Even if it's artificial in origin, in effect it's the thing that's kept us together, and let us raise Oh-So-Many rambunctious, happy kids.

High IQ has brought me blessings and curses, and I understand why, but I do wish humanity well, and maybe if humanity actually survives (someone else doesn't learn about how to create an anchor a meter in diameter to neutronium-ize our solar system), humanity's descendants will read this, you will read this, and know something of what our past was like.

In the meantime, I can have kind thoughts and love for a universe that gave me life and enlightened so many in my world with the laughter and cavorting of so many pattering feet and giggling and cries and questioning and all the joys and sorrows of and family togetherness.

So, from my somewhat inflated family (and friends) to yours, please accept our happy support on your journey to the stars.

And, may you have many happy babies.

I certainly am blessed, and I hope everyone can be, also.

Thank you,

-- Kevin Kooper