Pearl Ch. 02

The total number of souls aboard was 79,983, and AI indicated that emergency capacity was 80,000. Since we had almost a hundred and ninety-seven late term pregnant women aboard it was going to be more than close.

How did we end up with so many when we only had three thousand sponsors and the average number of concubines was six? We had over 68,000 dependent children under fourteen.

We'd done the whole thing in a little over twenty-four hours. It would never have been possible without using Marines from bases all over the planet and quite a few from the base on the Moon.

We'd started the pickups at 2 AM local time and moved with the time zones across the globe. We used the extra hours as the time moved across the Atlantic and Pacific to catch up. Generally the pickup consisted of two Marines doing some creative "breaking and entering" into a sleeping house and waking everyone up. It made for some very cranky people, but sleepy ones. Excitement only lasted so long before people were anxious to get back to sleep, especially the kids. Unlike most pod ships we didn't have cafeterias. Every common area space was devoted to either kid's playground or to labs and workshops. Why labs and workshops? I didn't want to tell my prima donnas they had to sit in their overcrowded pods with life and death power over those in them. I knew we'd have to have play areas for the younger kids to work off their energy and work areas where sponsors could get away from their charges.

Not having cafeterias also allowed me to make a rule that the only reason for concubines to be allowed out of their pods was if their sponsor allowed them to accompany their children to play areas, or to work in the labs.

It was my hope that since almost all the sponsors had military experience or had worked with the military that we could operate on something close to military discipline until we arrived at our planet. After all, these were dedicated professionals steeped in the concept of duty, right? Okay, so I was building a house next to a leaking dike, but I just didn't see any way around what I was doing.

All the sponsors had understood that one of our goals was to get as many useful people off Earth as we could. We'd encouraged sponsors and concubines to adopt as many dependants as possible in the limited time available without compromising security. Security had proved not to be a problem. Frankly, I'd expected a bit more problem with getting some of the "adoptions" past the AI, but then the people I'd selected had been dealing with crossing "T's" and dotting "'I' s" for officialdom for most of their careers. The AI hadn't stood a chance. All the dependents' computer and paper records had been in perfect order. The too perfect records might have raised red flags if it had been a human doing the checking.

It was remarkable how many of the adoptions of their friends and neighbor's children had taken place in distant and corrupt countries. For example who would question why a NASA engineer would adopt his nephew in a country he couldn't pronounce on a bet? Did it matter that few concubines could read the language used on their "children's" adoption papers?

Allow three thousand highly intelligent and highly competitive people the task of putting one over on "them," the "authorities" who wouldn't allow them every take all the staff they felt entitled to take ... as I said the AIs didn't have a chance! Did I mention that somehow all my candidates were kept informed about how many dependents others were taking? Competition is a wonderful thing! Actually, I was surprised to find that many of our "adopted children under 14" had training in the fields of their sponsors. That was a dodge I hadn't seen coming.

You would think that people smart enough to pull all this off would understood that the competition to see who could bring the most kids would result in them being crammed into their pods tighter than sardines. Everyone had been warned to make sure their concubines and dependants were compatible. Surely people as smart as those I'd chosen, would understand how important something that basic was, wouldn't they? Do lemmings understand why they they're running to the cliff? Okay, so lemmings don't really commit mass suicide. Disney staged those animal documentaries in the 1950s so maybe my folks would let logic reign ... oh foolish mortals!

Anyway, after over twenty-four hours of getting new arrivals sorted out, I headed back to my pod. I was mildly curious about how Teresa might have decorated it and more than mildly curious about whom she'd chosen as my other nineteen concubines. I was terrified to contemplate just how many rug rats she might have acquired. My Teresa was a competitor's competitor, and I knew she'd won the dependent per concubine race, but I hadn't actually counted how many she'd gotten.

When the pod door open I couldn't get "Honey I'm home!" out of my mouth before I was shocked speechless by the sight of 40,000 rug rats climbing all over what was supposed to be a rather small living room. Okay, so that's an exaggeration! There were actually less than 25,000 or at least it seemed that way. The noise level had to be at least 600 dB! (a jet at take off is about 120 dB and a rock concert peak is 150 dB) Hell it might have been as high as 900 dB!

An absolutely stunning naked woman began running toward me. I had just a split second to admire the way this stranger's parts moved as she ran, when she threw herself into my arms and kissed me. I was so shocked it took me at least ten ... twenty seconds okay as soon as I could get my mind to remind my body that I was a married man and I pulled away.

"What's the matter Jim? Aren't you glad to see me? I can't tell you how much I've missed you!"

I held her back and looked at her eyes, "Teresa? Is that you? What have you done to yourself?"

She smiled tentatively, "You like? I had AI measure your pupils as you looked at women since our wedding night. We decided this was the ideal look for you, so I had myself modified as soon as I got your concubines on board."

She was beautiful, ethereally so, (too ethereally really!) too close to my ideal of beauty to be real. It was intimidating to be around someone so perfect. I finally looked up from her perfect breasts to eyes that could suck out my soul and I saw her uncertainty.

"Teresa, I love your look, but it's too perfect, I think I should put you up on a pedestal and do homage to the perfect form. You're much to perfect to touch, much less do the sorts of things I'd like to do." I gave her a hug. "I suppose I can stand this packaging until we have enough time to bring back more of the 'Teresa body' I fell in love with back in Austin."

I had a brief glimpse of tears before she buried her face and murmured into my chest. I couldn't understand her, but I was pretty sure I'd said something right.

Thus ended the last peaceful second that I would enjoy for months! Years? The rest of my life?