An Unbridgeable Chasm

“Why don’t you go over there!” Leader Meriones said to his friend Leader Eukles. The two stood at one side, almost in a corner, of a room that, had it been on a planet, would have been called small and cramped. Meriones’ head practically touched the ceiling, and one or two taller lads were standing with a bit of a stoop. But for a joint Navy/civilian liner, the room was actually huge, with standing room for just a few more than the two hundred or so people that currently stood in it. 

“Haven’t we had the best luck in all the world, getting sent back to the front on a liner with a whole host of perfectly delightful and at least reasonably well-off marriageable young lasses? Seen you, haven’t I: all mooning over some beauty the whole trip. Yet you haven’t even managed to work up the courage to talk to her, but now we get a 17 party so you don’t have to ask her during Presentation, but you can go and dance with her and hold her bosom close to your chest before seeking out her guardian.

 “Better you hurry, before some other is before you. Know you that never another chance like this will you have! A you don’t get a wife here, you’ll be having to scratch for a wife in the colony, and that will be rough pickings. Know you the Commander won’t be pleased to have to give you leave to go meet her, either, however much you are the apple of his eye.”

“As if I will ever be the apple of any commander’s eye,” Eukles scoffed. “And your dialect gets simply atrocious when you are nervous. But, seriously, how can I?!” He whined, looking askance toward the young lady in question, who was standing at the other side of an unbridgeable chasm: the crowd of older officers and their wives, who were all standing watching the lads, wondering which one would make the first move; or at the young lasses, gathered on the other side of the room. The young lass he was staring at was standing in the inner core of a group of young lasses dancing attendance on the governor’s daughter. Crossing the unmarried group to tap his young lass on the shoulder would be impossible; breaking into that group of young lasses was unthinkable.

“Brave you are on the battlefield!” Meriones protested. “You won that medal, the commander’s own. What’s so hard about a little walk across a dance floor?”

“All aliens can do is kill you,” Eukles muttered, pulling nervously at his short, black beard. “And I don’t notice you going over, yourself!”

“Well, one of us has to do something!” Meriones said, fingering his uniform. He and  Eukles had decided to set their uniform to the light green which was sort of the standard colour for unmarried Army personnel in civilian or mixed settings. He glanced nervously at the mass of lower ranks, most of whom had chosen to set theirs in the mottled brown, green, and tan pattern, which to him, made them look more like ‘real’ soldiers. 

The soldiers in the middle group, the ones who were already married, had almost universally set their uniforms to a light tan. This was the standard setting for the army at parties… kind of a ‘hands-off’ sign. Their wives had their uniform dresses set more colourfully, but nothing compared to the riot of colour, which was the standard for the dress of the young lasses at the far side of the room. All of them were old enough to wear ankle-length dresses, and most sported the standard multi-layer dress/petticoat style, which was just coming back into fashion. A few, less socially conscious or less wealthy, wore the previous style, made popular in the early years of the dictatorship, of skirt and blouse: one colour for the skirt, a contrasting colour for the blouse.

Meriones, too, had a beard, but much to his chagrin, its light, mottled blond-and-red did not ‘age’ him much since it was barely visible. Its colour, matching his hair and his one blue and one green eye marked him to anyone with any knowledge of such things as of New Irish descent. Not that that set him apart much from the mass of the lower class army draftees or even from Eukles: the New Irish had been very fertile even before the articles and very poor throughout their whole history. They did make their share of officers, however, especially since the great purge. His family was of a lower class, and his genes showed through more clearly, however.

“Well, the party just started, anyway.  We don’t need to be the first people to break the ice. Say, let’s get some food. Maybe if we go over there, some of the lasses will come over there too, and we can strike up a normal conversation.”

The two stared at the food tables. They were richly provided. Very richly provided from the perspective of two leaders from poor backgrounds. The finger-sized Tchentin prawns, for example. Grown easily on shipboard, growing them still took up too much room to be frequently served to Army scum on rations, even officers. The vat meat brochettes looked like something that might be served on an officer’s ration card but probably were spiced with something well beyond their normal means.

 “I’m starving, but if we go get food, we will look like young pigs,” Eukles said. “Everyone is always accusing me of…” he broke off and stared around wildly. The music had suddenly changed to a strident rendition of the Army hymn. He saw that soldiers and sailors everywhere were turning toward the door and saluting, so he frantically turned too, and stood at attention and snapped out his own honour salute before even seeing who he was saluting.

There at the door was another young man with leader’s bars, like theirs, but no one would ever confuse him with Eukles. He was younger, and that showed in his lack of beard, a certain softness of face, and a lack in height, but he more than made up for it in presence.  His uniform was set to a light-sucking black. Across his chest, where the others sported a single grey tab with a few coloured stripes at the bottom indicating their service and various awards, he had three solid gold diagonal bars: the marks of an unthinkable three awards of the highest honour the empire had to offer.

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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!

Being ‘restacked’ and mentioned in ‘notes’ is very important for lesser-known stacks so… feel free! I’m semi-retired and write as a ministry (and for fun) so you don’t need to feel guilty you aren’t paying for anything, but if you enjoy my writing (even if you dramatically disagree with it), then restack, please! Or mention me in one of your own posts.

If I don’t write you back it is almost certain that I didn’t see it, so please feel free to comment and link to your post. Or if you just think I would be interested in your post!

Thanks again, God Bless, Soli Deo gloria,

Von

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Links

Article 17

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

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.

Contract Marriage

Contract marriage is an adult dystopia examining the issues of marriage. Like 1984 and Brave New World, Contract Marriage treats the relations between the sexes as a fundamental aspect of how a society is formed and, thus, how a society can go wrong.

Unlike those dystopias, Contract Marriage isn’t all horrible all of the time. The characters for the most part have a good time and get along in their society. But the issues of sexuality, of marriage or not, monogamy or not, faithfulness or not, and gender roles… keep coming up and causing tension and conflict and joy and pain.

My desire is that my readers would be thinking along with my characters about these issues and perhaps even arrive at the same place (minus the flying cars).

Introduction

In which I lay out the themes that I intend to explore in this light Dystopia, and ask others to participate.

Trade Master: First Chapter

In which Fenestra, our heroine’s mother, puts in her application for the job of 'Trade Master’ on the planet Libertas, and finds out that it isn’t that easy.

En-Drek Contract

In which Fenestra finds out that, on Libertas, everyone must be in an ‘En-drek’ contract… a long-term, live-in, heavy date between a man and a woman for the purpose of producing one child after the other with one date after the other.

Disappointment and Meditation

In which Jellia, the daughter and our heroine, finds out about her mother’s job opportunity, including its difficulties, and commits herself to meditating on the situation. (And internally commits herself to encouraging her mother to take the job.)

Decision Reached

Jellia tells her mother that she thinks she should take the job, and so her mother puts in her application… and gets the job!

First School

Jellia goes to school and gets to tell everyone about her new adventure.

First Work

Fenestra goes to work, and tells her coworker about her new opportunity.

Writing Class

Jellia writes a poem (a limerick) and tells her classmates more about her new adventure.

Trader Galloway

In which a man comes over for a ‘date’ (Ie to sleep over with her mother) and to tell them all about his time as Trade Master for their company on Libertas. And as how he was almost executed for asking a woman out on a date.

Shopping

In which Jellia and her mother go shopping for the last time, and we explore some of the nature of the planet she is leaving.

Language

In which Jellia starts using some new words at school, and everyone gathers round to find out what they mean.

Kesh-i Cooking Class

In which Jellia finds out that children (Kesh-i) on Libertas are expected to cook.

Trade Master Training

In which Fenestra begins her training for her new role, with an old enemy.

Two Week Date

In which Fenestra and Alex decide to date for the next two weeks.

The Facts of Life

In which Fenestra brings Alex home, and Jellia isn’t impressed. Although she is interested in how dating works for boys.

Snips

In which Jellia spends time snipping with a boy, and brings him home.

Kissing

In which Jellia and her mother both have a sexual ‘last fling’ before they leave, and Jellia practices the new kisses she will need for her new planet.

Off Ephemera // Podcast Version

In which Jellia and her mother arrive at the shuttle port, go through some annoying formalities, and take off!

And Fly!

In which Jellia and her mother board their spaceship, and Jellia starts doing her homework.