Russ’s version ->

<7/30/2095 12:00:00 AM> T minus two days

The sergeant picked up his com, “Think we might have some business, Charlie.”
“Good,” Charlie said, “This has been a boring morning, so far. What’s up?”
“I’ve got a boy, well into puberty, looking nervous. He’s been back and forth in front of our office several times already and visited the database… twice.”
“No Mommy and Daddy?” Charlie asked with a chuckle.
“Not this one. I’ve seen his type before. Odds are his parents are clueless. Gotta go, here he comes. . .”
The door opened and the young man walked in, closing the door carefully behind him and standing in front of it, as far from the desk as you could get. If the sergeant hadn’t had his smile plastered to his face he would have laughed out loud at the contrast between this timid, thin young man and the statuesque blond giant, posing with a laser gun in his hand and a comet over his shoulder, on the CF poster behind him.
“I… I’d like to sign up,” the young man said, finally coming quickly to the counter, looking almost furtive, but determined.
“Very good, sir,” the sergeant said easily, rising quickly from his chair and pushing the button in front of him which silvered the glass and locked the door. “I will lock the door while we complete our business. Standard procedure, you understand. Come right over here and put your hand on the scanner, please.” He didn’t usually lock the door, actually; not at this stage of the process. But this one looked so nervous the sergeant was afraid someone else coming in might just spook him.
The young man, with one last look over his shoulder, came over and put his right hand on the glowing plate on the desk, which beeped and turned green. “Very good sir,” the sergeant said, when the new recruits identity confirmation came up on his comp. “Now, if would look right into the camera here and repeat after me, ‘I… then say your name sir… do hereby freely and without reservation join the Colonization force. ‘”
The young man repeated the words, and the sergeant relaxed, smiled, and said, “Excellent, sir. A couple of questions, and then we can get on to the physical. Do you have a partenere, sir?”
“No, no partenere. I haven’t… no, no partenere.”
“Ah, that is a shame,” the sergeant said, sighing to himself at the loss of the bonus that a partner meant for him. He had worked hard to wrangle himself this recruiting job and the bonuses that came with it, and he hated each missed opportunity.
“Will you be joining for five years, ten years, or life, sir?” He asked, and held his breath. The situation seemed obvious enough, but you never could be sure. Perhaps the boy was running from his parents, or a young lady instead of…
“Life,” the boy said, and the sergeant grinned: Life was as good as a partenere, as far as his bonus went. Although, of course, life and a partenere, or, better yet, with children, each bringing him a bonus! Those were the best and, quite frankly, the routine. But, still, each little bit counted toward the day, hopefully not long away now, when he could retire.
“Excellent, sir. And who do you want to get your exemption, and your bonus?” The young man stammered out several names and the sergeant patiently typed them in and then said, “There, that is all the questions I have for you. Now if you will just take your clothes off and step into that door there.”
The sergeant loved this part. His own modesty had been burnt away first by his boot camp experience and then by several years in this job but New Texas was a fairly modest society and so, even though the boy should have known that this was the routine, he blushed and fumbled with his buttons, glancing back several times at the silvered window. It was always funny to watch but this time, with a boy this shy, it was truly hilarious. Accustomed to the diplomacy he needed for his job, though, the recruiting sergeant just smiled serenely through the process. Eventually the last bit of clothing had dropped to the floor and the naked lad turned away from the sergeant and toward the door to the exam room. “Just step right inside, sir,” the sergeant encouraged him, wondering whether to unlock the door and unsilver the window. That would get him moving. “The medic is waiting for you.”
“What about my clothes and things?” the boy asked, nervously, glancing back and forth between the room beyond and the room he was leaving.
“Don’t worry about them, sir,” the sergeant said, coming forward. “I will take care of them.”
He would, too, he said to himself as the boy finally opened the door and he Charlie’s greeting and instructions starting. The sergeant picked the clothes up and pulled everything out of the pockets. The cash he put in his pocket, something he only got to do when the kid came without parents. He stared at the credit card but, since that big scandal over in Dallas, draining that would be too risky. He had the kids parents address, so he addressed an envelope to them and put the card in it. He was just turning to put the boy’s clothes into a donation box he kept behind the counter just for this when his communication bell rang. It was Charlie, the Colonization Force crew in the next room. The boy was obviously all packaged up already.
“What was that about?” George asked, as the sergeant answered. “He’s nervous as a cat! And you said he came in alone?”
“Yep,” the sergeant said.
“But no Mommy or Daddy… even unpartnered?”
“Happens sometimes,” the sergeant said. “I’ve seen his type before.”
“Oh?”
“Yup,” the sergeant said, pulling out his book reader again and sitting back, watching the crowd, hopefully. “You see…”
He broke off as the door opened, to reveal a shy young couple, and what were obviously both sets of parents. “Gotta call you back, Charlie,” he said, hastily, into his com. “Good morning,” he said, coming out from behind the counter to shake the fathers’ hands, “How can I help you…?”

Russ’s version ->