“Well, Daughter, are you ready?” Mother asked, walking into Jellia’s room. Which was rather a violation of code and custom but she had gotten used to my having no privacy when she was not out of kesh, and had just kept it up whenever ErThom and ska-drek were out of the house, and since Jellia basically did the same thing for her I never objected and we were just careful about it.
“I hope so,” Jellia said, adjusting the straps on the backpack she had Carl in. It was a cool set-up, she could detatch Carl while still keeping the straps in place… his part just unhitched and lifted off, keeping his straps in place too. A cool design.
“I shipped all of the sample containers and equipment there yesterday, so all I have to do today is show up myself and take the samples. Then back to the lab and analyze them.”
“Show up today with kesh-u in tow,” she said, looking at my back. It was so funny, she still wasn’t at all used to kesh having their kesh with them when the went places, and would always apologize when she brought Bobbin or Trisha anywhere.
“Is Bobbin ready?” Jellia asked.
“Oh, yes. He is camped out by the front door with his pack. Thank you so much for taking him.”
“Well, it doesn’t cost any extra for the skimmer, and we will be wandering around in the woods all day… well, not woods mostly, but you know what I mean.”
Ska-drek-a gave Jellia a bow, grateful-acceptance, “You are the best of daughters. You have adapted wonderfully. I don’t know how you manage it. Have a wonderful day.” She then gave her a ska-drek-a-to-daughter kiss and, not waiting for me to return it, gave ‘grandmother-to-grandson’ to Carl and went off downstairs.
“Your grandmother loves you,” Jellia told Carl, who pounded on the back of her head, she supposed in agreement.
Two minutes later we were all standing on the front yard in the snow… which I had to keep Bobbin from playing with… and a minute or so after that our skimmer arrived. I threw Bobbin in, and noticed that there was a kesh already there, so I hauled myself in quickly and, as the skimmer took off, sat down and unhitched Carl. “Ska Jellia Korvau,” Jellia said, going over and kissing stranger to stranger. “Kesh Carl Korvau,” she said, holding up Carl for a close pass. “Bobbin!”
Bobbin came over and mumbled something which could have been “Kesh Robert Korvau” but probably wasn’t, and held his arms out. Jellia went to grab him but the kesh smiled, picked him up, wave him by for an air kiss.
“Ska Roger Martin,” he said, said, waving Bobbin again and air kissing Carl and Jellia. “And where are you all going this morning?”
“We are on our way to a construction nomination,” Jellia said, settling back into her seat. “I am a soil engineer intern and we have to take samples.”
“How fascinating,” he said. “I am a land architect.”
“Oh, really?” Jellia said. “I read a lot of their reports. Intial proposals and then, when they pass the soil test, they let us read the final plans.”
“And of course I read the soil engineer reports. Just the summaries, I’m afraid. Often with sadness.”
Jellia laughed, “Well, sorry. But we would all be sadder still if construction or growth was attempted and the soil was not yet ready… or at least that is what my teacher’s are always telling me.”
“And they are correct.”
The skimmer pulled over again and another Kesh got in. “en-kesh Cynthia Barlow,” she said.
After all of the kisses were exchanged Ska Martin asked Cynthia, “And where are you going this fine morning?”
“Lilliput Academy,” she said, just stopping her move toward her wrist.
“What is that?” I asked.
“Oh, its a school for traders,” she said.
“I wonder if my ska-drek-a has heard of it.”
They both looked at me. “Who is your ska-drek-a?” Cynthia asked.
“She’s the Master Trader for Ephemera Lines…” I started, but Cynthia practically leapt out of her seat.
“No! Really? Stars and comets and every little sparkling bit… can we exchange snips, please? Oh, my kesh-mates will be delerously jealous! Oh, please?”
“Umm, sure,” I said, and we waved wrists.
“Oh, I should have recongnized the name but, oh, oh… I don’t suppose she is looking for an intern?”
“Ummm… why? Would you like to be one?”
Cynthia kind of screamed, and it was left to Roger to say, “Yes. It would be a great thing for her resume… assuming she did well. How many interns does your ska-drek-a have?”
“Umm, none?”
“What?” Cynthia screamed again. “None? Why… at her level she could have at least five. Easily. I could name a dozen kesh in my class who would delay their en-e-ska to be her intern.”
“Really? Would that help?”
She stared at me in shock. “It’s an expression, Kesh. Like ‘would cut off their right arm’. It would not be allowable by code and custom. She just means that they would be very, very eager to get an internship with your ska-drek-a.”
Jellia sat back, rather in shock. The kesh pulled out her comp, no doubt to snip her freinds. And jellia thought I would snip, too.
Jellia: Mother, ska-drek, Gregory. I just met a kesh on my skimmer who is delerious at the idea of becoming Mother’s intern. I didn’t offer or anything, she just mentioned it when I told her who Mother is. She says Mother could have as many as five??!
Ska-drek: Certainly. At her level that would be easily possible.
Gregory: And it would make her job much easier, always having some kesh to run errands and the like. I’ve often wondered why she didn’t have any.
Mother: Well, I’d never really thought of it. Would she really like to?
Jellia: She practically melted down on the floor of the skimmer. She said (and I had to be told this was just an expression) she would delay her en-e-ska to get an internship… she and half her class.
Mother: Well, send me her snip. I can at least interview her, I supppose. If you all think it would be helpful.
Gregory: Well, you would have to put up with a lot of kesh-enthusiasm, and kesh-mistakes… but you could work her to death doing research, skimming all over. And it would be great for her.
I sent Mother her snip and, a couple of minutes later, Cynthia shrieked. “She snipped me! Oh, thank you!”
She leapt across the skimmer and gave me a rather dramatic sister-to-sister.
“Well, you will have to calm yourself a good deal to deal with Ska-drek-a,” I said. “She doesn’t like all bouncy engergy. Hard working, yes. Screaming with joy… not so much.”
She immediately sobered. “Yes, yes. Thank you for the wisdom. Of course, you know her. Now… how to answer. And I have to copy my supervisor, of course. An intern interview… how to dress?”
“Formal,” I said. “Blue skirt, white shirt. Never shirtless unless she gives you permission. She might wear her pygamas when she works, but she won’t appreciate you coming in all casual. And study up before you come.”
“Oh, yes. Oh, I will simply memorize the last few months of trade with Ephemera. And I will study future possibilites… but not mention them unless asked. Oh, oh, oh. Oh thank you!”
She sat back and began frantically typing away and I leaned back. Then I saw Roger grinning at me, and I shrugged. What had I done?
Then we both had to suffer through the enthusiasm again when three more kesh got on at one stop: Frank, George, and Susan… and Cynthia went delerious with them explaining what had happened. They all looked jealous and got very freiendly with me, Bobbin, and Carl.
But they got out at the next stop, which was their school, and Roger got out a minute after that, and the three of us had the skimmer to ourselves for the next few minutes.
“Who are you?” Jellia heard and turned to see a man in a bright yellow hat… no, helmet, and vest.
“Ska Jellia Korvau,” she said, kissing worker-to-worker.
“Site Supervisor Daniel Xoff,” he said, kissing back.
“Really? I contracted with an Xoff!”
“I have a lot of cousins. You the soil engineer?”
“Yes.”
“Great. Your stuff is over there, and I have three interns ready to help you around. I really want to get this soil testing done. Come in here and sign the site contract and we’ll get you dressed.”
The site contract was approved by her manager, so she merely read it through and signed it. By the time she finished three kesh were standing by, one holding out a vest and the other two holding Bobbin and and Carl, and all three had rather heavy backpacks.
She quickly kissed Kessa, Daniel, and Trent, and put on the vest.
“First testing area is up this hill,” the kesh who had handed her the vest said. “Here’s your helmet. Follow me.”
She led off at a brisk pace and Jellia followed her. It was about ten minutes up the hill till the kesh said, “Right here, this flag.”
Jellia knelt down and triggered her wrist comp to mark the location. “Ok, I’ll need the sonic buzzer first,” she said, and the kesh holding Carl took of his backpack.
“So, if you don’t mind us asking, what does this do?” he asked, as Jellia set the little machine up on its tripod.
“Just a simple sonic scan,” Jellia said, turning it on. “About five minutes, a dozen different frequencies. I’ll snip you the results.”
They all watched the results com in on their comps. “So… What does this mean?”
“Well, it looks like about six inches of soil… hard to tell how good, we’ll test that in a minute, and then some solid stone layers at about a thirty degree angle. Should be solid enough for building.”
“Now the next test is surface chemicals,” Jellia said. “It is my favourite, really. All sorts of little tubes and they all turn different colors.”
Bobbin and Carl were put down to play on the top of a large rock while Jellia worked on her ‘little tubes’. It really was easy work, if a bit tedius. Take some soil sample, put it in this little machine that whirled it around in a gazillion little bits, then put a precise amount in the tube, put the lid on, and then, when she had all of the little tubes ready, put it in a machine while shook it all up with some sort of sonic waves and then measured all of the colors. PH, various chemicals, all were measured.
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).
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!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!
If you get lost, check out my ‘Table of Contents’ which I try to keep up to date.
Thanks again, God Bless, Soli Deo gloria,
Von