FARZANA 10

CO leans back, steeples her fingers, "from the first edition, I could tell, it was you writing, not Nasiba. How? Crackles with authenticity. Definitely someone who's been there, had to switch cultures, not the work of someone who spent her entire life in just one culture. So, you might want to consider what next to write."
"Ma'am, how much is my choice? How much is yours?"
"Big stuff, like deciding who to blame a crash on, mine. If any member gets executed for treason, my call. Ordinary round of dope and stabbings and daily life, yours. I don't want to interfere, you have a cop's insight."
"Ma'am, rescue these people or not?"
"Keep the rescue. Girls'll be grown by then. Story can then traipse back to earth, with these same people. Or start a school on the planet, new crop of students."
"Ma'am, I'd prefer staying with the planet, new people."
"I can live with that. Now Farzana, the whole reason I assigned Nasiba to write, keep her out of trouble, out of people's hair. I never in my wildest dreams believed anything worthwhile would be written. So it was a shock pinning decorations on you two. But now I've read, I understand. Lot of inventions happen by accident, a byproduct of trying to do something else. And if it works, don't fix it. So, that makes you the official chronicler of the organization."
I nod.
"You might just have found your niche, your place in life. By the time you are 17, public relations people in HQ would be delighted to recruit you as a direct-entry Lieutenant."
"Yes ma'am."
"Curious, we have so few like you, understand east and west. Most can't, come across as morons or zealots to westerners. I'm sure by now you've seen newsletter articles you could revise, write better. And our western-raised members, well they do try. But pretty much all come across as arrogant, pushy, condescending to people here." Pause, "anyway give some thought to your story."

"How'd it go?" Nilo grins, "rubber hose? Beat you til you confess?"
"No, want me to write next summer, HQ doesn't wanna run out of episodes."
"You know why. See when they're reading, they ain't smoking dope."
"Spoken like a true cynic."
She grins, "something for everyone. Want sci fi, it's there. Cop mystery, there. Soap opera, same. And they don't hafta spend their hard-earned rupees on pulp fiction magazines. So, leaves more for dope."
Playfully I swat her with my pillow.
"Now in Hollywood, you'd get a million dollars a week. Here it's free."
"Don't have nowhere to park a BMW anyhow."
"Still, I'll hang out with you. My English is growing by leaps and bounds. Be an officer when I grow up." Smile, "I guess that makes us Friends by now."