Romance 3
Meena opted for direct attack, the outraged celeb, "I'll have you know you owe me a rather large sum of money. My time is worth a lot per day."
Councillor Zir smiled, "of course dear, how much do you make per book?"
This caught Meena flat-footed, she hadn't a clue, knew fame and fortune in publishing were 2 different things. Lotta multi-millionaires got little press coverage for a variety of reasons.
Councillor continued, "are you listening? Is it $100,000 a book? More?"
Meena library worker didn't even know that much, so she bristled, "my agent does all that."
"Dear you creative people are all the same, easily victimized. Should really watch the agent a little more closely."
Meena blushed, didn't reply.
"For the record dear, Ambling through Andalucia, your book of a year ago, has now generated $98,000. Interested in more?"
"How so?"
"Market size, 380 billion people, all literate, all prosperous. Poverty is defined as less than 1/3 of your income available for discretionary expenses, and only 4% fall in that category. 60% have half or more available."
"Definitely more prosperous than us."
"Yes dear, and the publishing industry is collapsing, not through lack of money, but lack of any new and interesting ideas. No men read anymore; only a quarter of women. Immense market for someone of your talent level."
"My work is based on Earth social nuance, probably flop there."
"Wrong, we don't want you to write about us. That's been done, ad infinitum. We want you to write about Earth for us. I have a list here of 23 publishers interested in talking with you."
"I ah well ah..."
"Dear, don't waste the voyage. I'll get you a laptop."
Greed kicked in, she did have 2 novels almost totally memorized, could re-produce them fast.
As she left, Councillor asked Sgt, "so, your take on her?"
"Ma'am, she can be bribed, like anyone. Shudder to think of her reaction to the ah social requirement."
"Ye-es, she seems rather frosty to both of those men. If all 4 aren't married by the time we dock, Department of Civil Housing takes over, makes the choice for them."
"Look at the bright side, ma'am, she is starting to write."
The conversation with Marcel was far more pleasant. Councillor had a fascination with sub-cultures and a whole afternoon of sharing notes followed. Was the Councillor suspicious that the Professor used plain language? No, she admired an academic who could speak without jargon. Showed a down-to-earth lack of arrogance.
The business was almost an afterthought. She casually mentioned he could expect double the professor salary he was used to; was quick to assure him that should he want more, guest speaking and weekly columnist gigs were available.
He shrugged with the money-is-no-object look of the true academic, who lives for study.
"So Sgt," Councillor said uneasily, "it gets a lot harder, starting now. Both were easy to bribe, will of course be more prosperous. When the Cabinet Minister and UGE man see bureaucratic salary levels, it's going to be rough."
"Ma'am, perhaps it makes sense for a rich one and poor one to marry. Spread the wealth around. Better than an opulent couple and a poor one."
"Sgt, re-read comparative religion. Odds of a Hindu-Muslim couple getting on ok are slim."
"I know ma'am, but the dyed-in-the-wool-real-Indian-from-India like Suresh has nothing but disdain for people like Lata. They believe Guyanese, Trinnies, Fijians have lost the culture, become westernized."
Councillor groaned, "you know, sometimes I wish I'd taken your advice, dumped him. Too late now."
The interview with Lata was a pleasant surprise. Her life had been hard, husband vanished while working up north, rumored to be shacked up with some hot squaw. She'd done 2 cleaning jobs to get by. The salary level for an advisory Dept of Finance post seemed generous to her. She simply shrugged, said she'd do her best.
Was Councillor suspicious of her lack of fight? No, simply attributed it to the well-known Hindu fatalism and remarked to Sgt she hoped Suresh would also display fatalism.
He didn't. Only the presence of muscular Sgt prevented an assault. Furious with capital F.
Councillor, "Sgt, I'd like your impression on how the men and women inter-relate. I'm curious to hear a man's take."
"Ma'am, no question Lata like Marcel, sends obvious messages. He's not responding, yet anyhow, but doesn't dislike her, so maybe will warm up in time.
"Obvious Lata despises Suresh, as does Meena.
"Meena has a condescion to the Professor. Stands to reason I suppose. She is world-famous, his fame confined to Canada.
"Suresh, obvious he loathes all women, not just these two."
Councillor smiled, "remarkable, I'm getting the same read. So your prediction?"
"Ma'am, one happy couple, one welded together by Dept of Civil Housing. Interesting to see who commits homicide first, husband or wife."
Each of the 4 had separate quarters. When dealing with Councillor, Sgt was always present, to prevent her being assaulted. But the aliens trusted the 4 Earthlings together unsupervised, never dreaming there would be violence among themselves.
There was. Some sharp sarcasm and Suresh was choking Meena. Didn't last long, her knee caught him you-know-where.
A Marine who had been passing by witnessed the incident and was questioned by Councillor and Sgt. Both were pleased. Proof positive they were made for each other - strong feelings.
Still, it wouldn't be wise to dock with one already dead - that could happen later - so a Marine guard was assigned to the Earthlings.
Their perceptions, however erroneous, were based on their own culture.
Back home, there was only one crime - spousal murder.
Other violence was totally unknown, you could leave a coffee house at midnight, be as safe as if it were noon.
In parks, people regularly left camera or briefcase on a bench to mark it as theirs while taking a short walk.
No death sentence, no prisons.
Dept of Civil Housing simply matched a murderer wife with a murderer husband. After all, their planet was already a tad overcrowded.
The immediate effect of the Marine guard was to throw ice-water on Lata's moves on Marcel. This did not last. The Marine and Marcel formed an instant friendship.
The Marine told him of what to expect on arrival, "man, since you's gonna be married anyhow, may as well be happy. Lata likes you, sweet and gentle. Go for it. Wouldn't wanna end up with that virago."
"I'd ah rather stay single."
"Forget it, my friend. We have VIP honored guests from over 2 dozen planets. All must be married, no exception. Same as our people. By the time you finish studies, if you haven't found someone, Dept of Civil Housing does it for you."
Marcel thought it over a bit. Suddenly he was more willing to look past the rather unattractive cover of Lata to the person inside. No question, far better her than that nose-in-the-air Afghan b****.
Lata noticed the difference almost immediately following this private chat.
The Marine soon asked to be relieved of these duties. While he greatly approved of the fast-growing friendship between Marcel and Lata, he was upset by the constant sniping and hostility of Meena and Suresh.
Councillor shrugged, yes better to send someone more experienced.
The new Marine was a battle-scarred vet of 3 marriage-murders. Got his jollies ever so subtly raising the temperature, getting Meena and Suresh even more hostile.
To be fair, the new Marine never did this with Lata and Marcel. Spotting a true romantic, he taught Marcel how to do hologram flowers.
By voyage mid-point, it came as no surprise when Lata and Marcel sought permission to be legally married. Both were also progressing occupationally. Marcel was compiling his sub-culture notes and Lata was studying Dept of Finance information.
Seeing half of her problem so neatly solved, Councillor was happy to make the arrangements. The entire crew turned out in dress uniform for the ceremony..
The other half of the problem was getting worse. Meena had ceased to write and Suresh had ceased to study, so caught up in all the hostility.
For starters, Meena, like a lot of Muslims, was very homophobic.
Then, his hatred of all "fish" (gay slang for women).
Throw in the Hindu-Muslim divide.
The difference between an obsessive-compulsive, math-oriented geek and an artsy.
Curiously, no one in the crew viewed this hostility as too much of a problem. Showed they had energy together, would be a passionate match once they worked things out.
Councillor Zir smiled, "of course dear, how much do you make per book?"
This caught Meena flat-footed, she hadn't a clue, knew fame and fortune in publishing were 2 different things. Lotta multi-millionaires got little press coverage for a variety of reasons.
Councillor continued, "are you listening? Is it $100,000 a book? More?"
Meena library worker didn't even know that much, so she bristled, "my agent does all that."
"Dear you creative people are all the same, easily victimized. Should really watch the agent a little more closely."
Meena blushed, didn't reply.
"For the record dear, Ambling through Andalucia, your book of a year ago, has now generated $98,000. Interested in more?"
"How so?"
"Market size, 380 billion people, all literate, all prosperous. Poverty is defined as less than 1/3 of your income available for discretionary expenses, and only 4% fall in that category. 60% have half or more available."
"Definitely more prosperous than us."
"Yes dear, and the publishing industry is collapsing, not through lack of money, but lack of any new and interesting ideas. No men read anymore; only a quarter of women. Immense market for someone of your talent level."
"My work is based on Earth social nuance, probably flop there."
"Wrong, we don't want you to write about us. That's been done, ad infinitum. We want you to write about Earth for us. I have a list here of 23 publishers interested in talking with you."
"I ah well ah..."
"Dear, don't waste the voyage. I'll get you a laptop."
Greed kicked in, she did have 2 novels almost totally memorized, could re-produce them fast.
As she left, Councillor asked Sgt, "so, your take on her?"
"Ma'am, she can be bribed, like anyone. Shudder to think of her reaction to the ah social requirement."
"Ye-es, she seems rather frosty to both of those men. If all 4 aren't married by the time we dock, Department of Civil Housing takes over, makes the choice for them."
"Look at the bright side, ma'am, she is starting to write."
The conversation with Marcel was far more pleasant. Councillor had a fascination with sub-cultures and a whole afternoon of sharing notes followed. Was the Councillor suspicious that the Professor used plain language? No, she admired an academic who could speak without jargon. Showed a down-to-earth lack of arrogance.
The business was almost an afterthought. She casually mentioned he could expect double the professor salary he was used to; was quick to assure him that should he want more, guest speaking and weekly columnist gigs were available.
He shrugged with the money-is-no-object look of the true academic, who lives for study.
"So Sgt," Councillor said uneasily, "it gets a lot harder, starting now. Both were easy to bribe, will of course be more prosperous. When the Cabinet Minister and UGE man see bureaucratic salary levels, it's going to be rough."
"Ma'am, perhaps it makes sense for a rich one and poor one to marry. Spread the wealth around. Better than an opulent couple and a poor one."
"Sgt, re-read comparative religion. Odds of a Hindu-Muslim couple getting on ok are slim."
"I know ma'am, but the dyed-in-the-wool-real-Indian-from-India like Suresh has nothing but disdain for people like Lata. They believe Guyanese, Trinnies, Fijians have lost the culture, become westernized."
Councillor groaned, "you know, sometimes I wish I'd taken your advice, dumped him. Too late now."
The interview with Lata was a pleasant surprise. Her life had been hard, husband vanished while working up north, rumored to be shacked up with some hot squaw. She'd done 2 cleaning jobs to get by. The salary level for an advisory Dept of Finance post seemed generous to her. She simply shrugged, said she'd do her best.
Was Councillor suspicious of her lack of fight? No, simply attributed it to the well-known Hindu fatalism and remarked to Sgt she hoped Suresh would also display fatalism.
He didn't. Only the presence of muscular Sgt prevented an assault. Furious with capital F.
Councillor, "Sgt, I'd like your impression on how the men and women inter-relate. I'm curious to hear a man's take."
"Ma'am, no question Lata like Marcel, sends obvious messages. He's not responding, yet anyhow, but doesn't dislike her, so maybe will warm up in time.
"Obvious Lata despises Suresh, as does Meena.
"Meena has a condescion to the Professor. Stands to reason I suppose. She is world-famous, his fame confined to Canada.
"Suresh, obvious he loathes all women, not just these two."
Councillor smiled, "remarkable, I'm getting the same read. So your prediction?"
"Ma'am, one happy couple, one welded together by Dept of Civil Housing. Interesting to see who commits homicide first, husband or wife."
Each of the 4 had separate quarters. When dealing with Councillor, Sgt was always present, to prevent her being assaulted. But the aliens trusted the 4 Earthlings together unsupervised, never dreaming there would be violence among themselves.
There was. Some sharp sarcasm and Suresh was choking Meena. Didn't last long, her knee caught him you-know-where.
A Marine who had been passing by witnessed the incident and was questioned by Councillor and Sgt. Both were pleased. Proof positive they were made for each other - strong feelings.
Still, it wouldn't be wise to dock with one already dead - that could happen later - so a Marine guard was assigned to the Earthlings.
Their perceptions, however erroneous, were based on their own culture.
Back home, there was only one crime - spousal murder.
Other violence was totally unknown, you could leave a coffee house at midnight, be as safe as if it were noon.
In parks, people regularly left camera or briefcase on a bench to mark it as theirs while taking a short walk.
No death sentence, no prisons.
Dept of Civil Housing simply matched a murderer wife with a murderer husband. After all, their planet was already a tad overcrowded.
The immediate effect of the Marine guard was to throw ice-water on Lata's moves on Marcel. This did not last. The Marine and Marcel formed an instant friendship.
The Marine told him of what to expect on arrival, "man, since you's gonna be married anyhow, may as well be happy. Lata likes you, sweet and gentle. Go for it. Wouldn't wanna end up with that virago."
"I'd ah rather stay single."
"Forget it, my friend. We have VIP honored guests from over 2 dozen planets. All must be married, no exception. Same as our people. By the time you finish studies, if you haven't found someone, Dept of Civil Housing does it for you."
Marcel thought it over a bit. Suddenly he was more willing to look past the rather unattractive cover of Lata to the person inside. No question, far better her than that nose-in-the-air Afghan b****.
Lata noticed the difference almost immediately following this private chat.
The Marine soon asked to be relieved of these duties. While he greatly approved of the fast-growing friendship between Marcel and Lata, he was upset by the constant sniping and hostility of Meena and Suresh.
Councillor shrugged, yes better to send someone more experienced.
The new Marine was a battle-scarred vet of 3 marriage-murders. Got his jollies ever so subtly raising the temperature, getting Meena and Suresh even more hostile.
To be fair, the new Marine never did this with Lata and Marcel. Spotting a true romantic, he taught Marcel how to do hologram flowers.
By voyage mid-point, it came as no surprise when Lata and Marcel sought permission to be legally married. Both were also progressing occupationally. Marcel was compiling his sub-culture notes and Lata was studying Dept of Finance information.
Seeing half of her problem so neatly solved, Councillor was happy to make the arrangements. The entire crew turned out in dress uniform for the ceremony..
The other half of the problem was getting worse. Meena had ceased to write and Suresh had ceased to study, so caught up in all the hostility.
For starters, Meena, like a lot of Muslims, was very homophobic.
Then, his hatred of all "fish" (gay slang for women).
Throw in the Hindu-Muslim divide.
The difference between an obsessive-compulsive, math-oriented geek and an artsy.
Curiously, no one in the crew viewed this hostility as too much of a problem. Showed they had energy together, would be a passionate match once they worked things out.
posted by afghangirlscifi @ 1:31 PM
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