Never You, Darling

Illoia remembered hearing her father make the announcement on vid, when this, the newest Article, had come down from the dictator,

“Whereas divisive and destructive distinctions still persist amongst the citizens of the empire, especially amongst those chosen to lead; distinctions that reflect former and unimportant divisions of rank, function, and monetary status; and whereas it has been noted, with discouragement, that the members of our valiant military are not receiving the proper forms of respect the Dictator has, in his benevolent wisdom, announced the latest in the Articles that govern our lives,

Article 17:“Military status shall never serve as an impediment to marriage.”

“Each citizen is requested and required to do their utmost to ensure that the spirit behind this article is fully carried out, in their lives, official and personal.

“The dictator trusts that they will do so, and I, as your governor, also trust that I and all citizens of Tarreno will do so, so help us God.”

“What does it mean, Mother?” she had asked.

“I don’t know, Darling, you’ll have to ask your father.”

And so she had, “What does it mean, Father,” she had asked, when he had come back to his office following the press conference, “This new Article?”

“It means that the dictator is not pleased with how few of his military men have wives, and what wives they have gotten. He wants us to treat them like they were…” he paused, and changing his tone, said, “he wants us to make sure that the soldiers get very nice wives. So many of your friends might end up being soldier’s wives.”

“And me, Father? Might I be a soldier’s wife?” At the time she had thought that might be exciting. She liked seeing the soldiers in their handsome uniforms.

“You? Not you, Darling. Never you!”

—

Illoia brought her mind back to reality, back to the present, and noticed that everyone in the room was staring at her. Her partner was staring with a half grin and, she gritted her teeth, that stupid hum.

Her father had been wrong. Her father had let her come on this trip secure in the knowledge that no one would dare to invoke Article 17 against his daughter! But his daughter, it seemed, was going to be married to a soldier, and by Article 17. Her guardian had failed to make the objection necessary to stop her marriage, and he had openly asked her if she had any. According to the silent code that had grown up almost immediately around Article 17, her next sentence would grant this young hero her hand. Her next sentence that she had to make, with everyone staring and everyone listening.

“I object only to being interrupted in our dance, Commander. If you will excuse us?”

The commander gave Illoia a long look, then bowed, and turned back to his wife, and Tom and Illoia went back to dancing, her thoughts whirling.

Why would he even want to marry her? He had called her ‘witty’ but she certainly hadn’t shown any of that so far tonight. She hadn’t even managed to be polite! She certainly wasn’t the prettiest lass at the party, although… she snuck a glance… he did seem to have eyes only for her. For her and his dance steps; he really wasn’t very accomplished a dancer.

Of course, he knew everything about her. Her life was an open book, being the Sector Governor’s daughter. The newsys covered her family incessantly.

The second the dance finished Illoia excused herself, “I think I shall go get something to eat,” she said, walking quickly away before her partner, now her consented husband, could offer to accompany her.

She made it almost unnoticed to the buffet line; the dancing was in full swing and the lasses were all more interested in the lads than in her, and the rest of the crowd more interested in dancing or commenting on the dancing couples. She did see one lass watching her, a short and stout lass that, no doubt, hadn’t even been asked to dance yet, poor dear. Maybe she could talk to her sometime this evening, give her some hint of a connection.

 She glanced over the line and took a stick of fried sushi, a few pieces of breaded goat, and a sauce bowl; and glowered. The only people in her line of view were two draftees busy stocking plates with food, so she glowered at them. “Greedy pigs!” She muttered. “Lads never seem to stop eating.”

“Growing lads and nursing mothers,” she heard a voice from behind her and turned to see a nursing mother, her babe busy at her breast, with her own plate of food.

“I’m sorry,” Illoia said, blushing.

“Having a hard evening, Dear?” The lass said. She had a navy dependent uniform on, and seemed old enough that the child at her breast was almost certainly not her first.

“I am not very pleased with lads right now,” Illoia admitted.

“They can be frustrating,” the lass agreed. “But where would we be without them? There certainly would be fewer of us.”

Illoia blushed again, altho the comment was certainly proper. She looked at the baby, “A lad?” She guessed.

“Yes, And not feeling too well, which I why I brought him. I left his twin sister and the others with the wet nurses and sitters. Poor draftees, running after a dorm full of children. Some of them probably glad to be out of the party, I suppose.”

“I was surprised at the party,” Illoia said.

“We all were. I pity the organisers.”

Illoia looked down at the table, “The food isn’t very good,” she said. “I can cook better than this.”

“I should hope you could, my Dear. I assume, from your background, that you have been trained by master chefs.”

“Well, yes, but I wasn’t their best pupil,” Illoia said, glad to have turned the conversation to safer lines. “My younger sister and her twin positively dote on cooking. She makes a mousse to die for.”

“Have you tried Grengin chili?” The lass asked, pointing to a hot pot with some purple substance in it.

Illoia stared, “No….”

“Looks horrible, doesn’t it? But it is amazingly tasty, very filling, and, what’s important to most of us, the Grengin root can be grown very easily and is thus very cheap. A perennial plant, so it comes back every year, you just need to be careful you don’t cut off too much of the root every winter.”

Illoia stared. It was a purple root, in some kind of a sauce, mixed with ground meat. And it smelled… spicy. Illoia couldn’t imagine any chef of her father’s being willing to make such a dish.

“What sort of food do they do on Tarreno?” the lass asked pulling the infant off her breast while awkwardly trying to hold her plate and pound his back. Illoia hurriedly reached out and took her plate.

“Well, much of it is Empire standard,” she said. “But we do have some local game that the lads like to bring in. I think it more for the ‘thrill of the chase’ than any desire to help the family.”

“At your father’s level I should hope so. I imagine it is different for those without his resources.”

Illoia flushed. Was this lass trying to irritate her? To remind her of her new status? Claimed as an Article 17 wife of the son of a shopkeeper? Unless she could somehow think her way out of it before the evening was out!

But… what would her life be like if she did think her way out of it? What would anyone think of her? Would anyone be willing to marry a shrew who had rejected not one but two eligible suitors? One rich and well connected, if a bit forcefully over eager; and the other… she glanced back at him… infinitely well connected. A bit young for her class but everyone knew that military lads were all marrying young…

“It will be a hard life,” the lass said and Illoia realised, to her shock, that she had been standing here thinking about some lad in the middle of a conversation! What must she think of her?

“It will be a hard life,” the lass repeated when Illoia forced her gaze back. “But meaningful. You will never be bored, not in any real sense. It will be hard for you, mingling with… with types of people you aren’t used to dealing with; but I think you will do well at it. Keep your chin up, dear.”

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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

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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 // 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 cross 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

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

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 // Podcast Version

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 // Podcast Version

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.

Abstinate // Podcast Version

In which Jellia gets bored, rejects an older gentleman, and rejects her mother’s idea of dating.

Older Kesh-u

In which Jellia learns more about what Kesh-u (children) are allowed to do on Libertas.

Fertility

In which Jellia and her mother are taken off birth control by an odd doctor.

Decon

Jellia and her mother arrive on their new planet, go through an awful decontamination, get sent to a briefing, and receive their first kiss/greeting!

Briefing

Jellia and her mother are warned that the laws on Libertas can be very serious.