Fitting

When they had finished eating and made it back to the corridor it was jammed packed. Almost every foot they moved down the corridor they were stopped, and greeted, by another couple. “So many 17’s!” Illoia whispered to Tomirosh when she had a free second.

“It was to be expected, and would have happened, although not perhaps to this extent, at final presentation,” he said. “I doubt there is an unmarried lass on the ship. This liner, plus the station, will be the last time for most of these soldiers to marry before they reach the front. The transport will be filled with practically all soldiers. And once at the front, well, getting a colony lass can take a while.

She saw several Middies, many Top Rankers… even a couple of higher ranks, why, she even saw recruits sporting Article 17 wives, the recruits at least looking happy as clams.  Tomirosh had led her down to the lower decks and she clung to him. She was not used to this kind of environment. So many people, so much smell, sound…

They hadn’t far to go before they came to a whole line of couples. Her husband started walking past the line, with the various people standing straight and moving out of his way, and pulling their wives out of his way. He got to the front of the line, where two leaders were standing, with their new wives, and they both stepped out of his way as well, and he stood with her in front  of a door.

“What is this?” she asked, looking back at the crowd behind her and wondering how her husband had known it was their turn. She hadn’t seen him consult his comp. Perhaps military comps used coded vibrations. She would have to learn.

“Fitting for your uniform,” he said. “Military dependents all wear military uniforms at almost all times.”

She knew that! Her father’s role as governor had frequently had to deal with the military, so their dependents would be invited to their mansion for parties and things. They all always wore the same thing. Well, except for the colours and patterns they set their uniforms to. She had seen military wives get quite creative with their patterns.

She was sort of looking forward to a fitting. That would be something comfortable for her. Some lasses, hurrying around her with laser tape, discussing darts and hems and all.

But when the door opened and she was able to see past the departing couple she was surprised to see a small room with no one in it. Her husband pulled her quickly in and, once the door was closed, she was again surprised, this time to see the walls all light up with a jungle scene and a lass… a holo… show up a few feet in front of her, well past where the wall was. A lass in an army wife dependent uniform.

 “Please remove all of your clothes,”  the lass said. “Per Article 4, you should know that I am a visually private simulation and that no information from this simulation, or any images from it, may be reported in any form except to yourself, your  husband, your medical advisor, or anyone that you should designate. Please Acknowledge.”

“Ok” Illoia said.

The lass repeated, “Please Acknowledge”.

“Acknowledged,” Illoia said, sighing at the enforced literalness of AI’s in so many circumstances. “I had thought you were a tailor.”

The lass snorted, “I’ve been called worse,” she said, grinning. “And I will be fitting you for clothes. But these are very special clothes. Please stand here  under the fitter,” she said, when Illoia had finished undressing.

She saw the floor light up with a circle of metal and stood under the fitter and they all watched the dancing lasers play over her body. Then the lights turned off and a drawer opened in the ‘wall’ of jungle. “Please put that on,” the lass said.

‘That’ was a set of long undergarments, such as she often saw peaking out of the sleeves of the soldiers. She pulled it on while the lass said, “This is your undersuit, and should be worn at all times except when in a safe situation, such as on board ship and in home quarter. They are to be worn at all other times.”

“And when bathing?” Illoia asked, feeling better now she was at least partially dressed in front of her new husband, who had studied at her the whole time.

“The suit may be removed for bathing if you are in a secure location, however you may also bathe in this suit, and should do in any potentially hazardous situation. Please stand over there…”

Illoia moved the few feet indicated and, suddenly the ceiling sprayed water at her, nice warm water and… she felt exactly as if she might do in the shower, even tho the suit was still there. “When the water is of an appropriate temperature the suit becomes completely porous and will aid in cleaning your skin. When, on the other hand… Illoia shrieked as the water suddenly became freezing cold… at least on her head. Everywhere else she felt warm… “the water is too cold or too hot, and this applies to air or solid objects as well, the suit will change its insulation pattern and protect you from these extremes.”

“Let me explain some more features of your undersuit,” the soldier holo said. “It is multi-seamed, and can be opened for all natural functions, including urination, defecation, nursing, and sexual relations. You should practice now.”

“I…!” Illoia started to say, confused, but the sim cut her off…

“Place your hand  under your right breast. Do you feel the magnetic seam there?”

“I, umm, yes.”

“Use your finger in a swiping motion at a constant rate of speed and the seam will open.”

Sure enough she did and the seam did open, plenty wide for nursing.

“Good, now feel into your groin area for the other seams.”

She did and the same motion produced the same result. She closed the groin seams back again, with the sim instructing, and then did the same for her breast.

“Your undersuit also includes a variety of medical and communication functions,” she heard, “when attached to  your oversuit and helmet. Please put them on now.”

Illoia reached into the drawer, which had reappeared, and pulled on a suit, boots, and a helmet. The helmet seemed to disappear once it was fully attached.

“Your oversuit is your most powerful weapon,” the lass said, and one wall of the chamber changed to a mirror. “It has medical and communication function, strength augmentation and, most importantly, is armor. Above all it is designed to be resistant to EMP, thus it will keep working in a combat situation.”

Illoia stared at herself. She had seen these kind of uniform dresses dozens, even hundreds of times, the tightly fitting torso descending to a full skirt that, somehow, hung heavily and didn’t flare despite its pleats. They always looked serious, somehow.

And… she fingered the two small badges above her right breast, the one representing her father’s rank as governor, the bad of Tareno IV. The other… three very small but very gold diagonal flashes representing her husband’s awards. 

“Our military currently uses mostly two different forms of weapon:” the trainer continued, “ electromagnetic and kinetic-explosive. You will be trained on both of these.  You should know that your suit is designed to collect and disperse both of these kinds of energy.”

“Please schedule a regular sim room for further training; and you will learn the rest of the functions of your suit there. “Next.” With that the lass, the jungle, and the drawer all disappeared, and she frantically picked up her old dress as Tom hurried her from the room.

“I have some duties to perform, and will need to schedule your further training. I shouldn’t be busy for more than an hour, if that.”

He paused, and she said, “I think I will return to my room, then. I wish to speak to one of my lass friends.”

“Very well,” he said, and hurried off, leaving her to find her own way upstairs and back to her room, where she quickly commed Aleshia. Aleshia wasn’t always very bright, but she was a good friend and her father was very well to do, so Papa should be willing to see her.

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Thank you for reading Von’s Substack. I would love it if you commented! I love hearing from readers, especially critical comments. I would love to start more letter exchanges, so if there’s a subject you’re interested in, get writing and tag me!

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Thanks again, God Bless, Soli Deo gloria,

Von

Links

Article 17

Article 17 is a military science fiction story with aliens and romance. It is set in a future reminiscent of Napoleon era Britain. The war was going very poorly until the military installed a dictator. This story follows one of the dictator’s great men: Cladin Tomirosh, Leader, and thrice decorated hero.

Intro // Podcast Version

She was pretty, popular, snobby, and a planetary governor’s daughter. He was the son of shopkeepers, a social misfit, and a decorated hero. She thought she was there to dance. He had other ideas.

A Dance // Podcast Version

As a governor’s daughter, Illoia usually avoided such events, but when the captain made the announcement that there was to be an Article 17 dance, she, too, was forced to attend. If only the scum hadn’t been there too.

The Unbridgeable Chasm // Podcast Version

Eukles and Meriones, brave military leaders, quail at the idea of crossing the gulf between themselves and asking a lass to dance.

There He Is // Podcast Version

The young hero comes in, and Aleshia and Illoyia gossip about him.

Look at the Young Hero // Podcast Version

The young hero comes in, and greets Eukles and Meriones… and announces his intentions.

Target // Podcast Version

Tom, Leader Cladin Tomirosh, sets his sights on the governors daughter. She isn’t impressed.

Fuming // Podcast Version

Tom and Illoia dance, while she desperately tries to get him to go away!

Now’s Our Chance! // Podcast Version

Eukles and Meriones use Tom and Illoia as a distraction and stalk their own girls.

To Slap or Not to Slap // Podcast Version

Meriones introduces himself to his new wife with a slap on the backside.

No Sane Man // Podcast Version

Illoia insults the young hero, and he proposes.

Never You, Darling // Podcast Version

Illoia finds herself unable to turn down his proposal.

A Wild Dance // Podcast Version

Illoia finds being Tom’s Consented Wife hard… with wild New Irish dances and immodest ones.

Registered // Podcast Version

A new marriage is registered. All hail the dictator!

Middy’s Got a Lass! // Podcast Version

Medinia is deliriously happy… she got 17d!

A Duel to the Death // Podcast Version

Illoia wakes up next to her new husband.