Futuristic Infantry 17

I'm on my way to another obscure meeting, reading my handheld on the Metro. A man stops in front of me, polite tone, "Maj, recognize me?" It's the Porn Palace manager.
"Last we met, your customers were a tad restive."
He laughs easily, "so, how's the handheld?"
"Really nice, thank you. Lotta my troops bought something nice."
Smile, "see we aren't all smut and porn, just mostly so. Maj, do you consider yourself open-minded?"
"On most issues. On some, I'm afraid not."
"Good, I'm well aware of how low military salaries are. Can't get enough Saturday help. Men just won't come work Saturdays. Women, they would, but mosta their fulltime jobs include Saturday."
"What do you need?"
"Your choice, cashier or stocker, $18 an hour."
"I'm afraid sir, I don't own much in the way of civvy clothes."
"Worry not, we provide uniforms. So?"
"Why not sir? What hours do you need?"
I opt for stocker, more anonymous, end up in the area selling porn mags, vids and novellas.
Our section leader is wildly enthusiastic about the recent gay legislation, "you watch, soon have a full line of gay items, more sales, more bonus."
I'm pleasantly surprised to find most customers are polite when asking where items are.
My co-workers are mostly younger. Breaktime, I share some humorous tour stories and it earns me acceptance.
The boss comes to visit, "so Maj, how is your experience here working out?"
"Very well sir."
"You happen to have any sister officers who could spare Saturdays?"
I blush, "sorry sir, most drink too much, but I'll ask around."
Meena comes, but I warn her, it is forbidden to fraternize with customers, but ok to fraternize with fellow staff. She ends up in droid accessories. Quick on her feet, she snags as boyfriend one of the droid salesmen. As she describes it, pretty unequal. But then, I guess her theory is better than nothing.
"Wow," she gasps, "look at this." Her first cheque with a bonus calculation on it.
I retort, "isn't that boyfriend of yours a hypocrite?"
"How so?"
"Here he is, convincing people of all this grossing out. Yet screwing with a real woman himself."
She laughs, "his customers are already convinced of the perils of grossing out. He merely helps them to choose make and model, how to understand warranty and such."
"Oh."

I sigh with relief as I read the epistle from HQ. Yes the Reservists are furious with me and want another officer to replace me. But it was not an official meeting, no quorum, private conversation, no grounds for reprimand.
Our section at Porn Palace is expanding, huge new gay collection. It flies off the shelf, a retailer's dream, fast as you can put it out.
Given the number and appearance of men buying gay, I'm starting to get suspicious, seems a lotta straights are gay-curious.
The section leader laughs, "but of course, forbidden fruit, pardon the pun. Men are obsessed with sex, want to try new things."
Meena loses her boyfriend. Once he samples the pleasures of gay sex, there is no going back. He unceremoniously dumps her and moves in with his new squeeze, a stockbroker. Not wishing to run into him at work, she transfers across to sex toys.

Consolidated Droids issues the quarterly report, 20% drop in droid sales. They very carefully avoid even the word gay, blame it all on the Central Bank, for that 1/4 of 1% interest rate hike.
International follows suit, 23% drop, blames it on Central Bank and customers over-spending on their vacations.
To counter the downturn, they shorten the minimum lease to 6 months.
The rumor spreads like wildfire through Porn Palace staff, but of course never reaches the public. The droid salesman and his stockbroker gay partner did not get rid of their droids, kept them for sex variety and housework.
Now it is utterly impossible for a sex droid to attack a human, multi-level failsafe devices and programming. The programming preventing one droid attacking others is somewhat less secure.
One droid, in a fit of rage and jealousy, destroys the rest.
In order to keep it quiet, the droid company gives undisclosed financial compensation. Still, I wonder, how many other cases happen. Even if kept quiet, it costs money to do so.

The Christian Right, previously unheard from, fires a salvo. A Hutterite lawyer, Mr Kleinsasser, represents a group of religious communes such as Amish, Hutterite and Doukhobor. He will do pro bono work on a Supreme Court challenge.
See, there is nothing in the Charter of Rights and Freedoms which specifically states that a government should give equality by being more generous. Equality of the sexes could just as well be accomplished by re-enacting the Homo Laws and applying the same restrictions to women.
The media and gay reaction is frivolity, scorn. What can one little guy do? These cases take a dozen lawyers, fulltime.
An ally surfaces. The Catholic Church announces they support Mr Kleinsasser 100%, will be presenting him with a list of Catholic lawyers willing to do pro bono on his case.
As the media circus photographs Mr Kleinsasser filing his initial papers, the Sword of Damocles hangs over gay.
Book publishers suspend any new projects.
Consolidated and International Droids hold a joint news conference, "we have always prided ourselves on not merely obeying the law, but staying well within community moral standards." (sad, but true) "This recent court challenge means we must suspend research on the gay droid project. We would not wish to be in the uncomfortable moral position of finding the law rendering our warranties invalid, nor being unable to supply spare parts. We will take the high road, simply wait for the Supreme Court to decide."
The wild exuberance vanishes from gay porn, afraid to start any more films.
Bonuses drop as sales deflate.
Parliament appeals to the Supreme Court, asking for priority on the case.
The Chief Justice is frosty, reminds them that true justice takes time and is more important than mere economic activity.
The other Major Zamani is a big winner. Hollywood, with zillions to invest, afraid to do so in gay movies, dusts off the idea of a sequel to The Silver Paddle.
She will play an uber-mistress droid, pro dom to a stock brokerage, who torments staff and customers.
The studio promises twice as many minutes on S&M, less time wasted on plot. I shake my head, not having recalled any plot the first time.

Meena and I lose our Saturday jobs. The manager talks with me privately, "Maj, I feel like the world's biggest heel, doing this to you. Without you, I wouldn't have a store, it'd be cinder and rubble. So forgive me, but business is business."
"Sir, we are slated for an Ulster tour soon anyhow."
He smiles with relief.
As I turn away, there is a tear in my eye. There is no Ulster tour. I let him off the hook because he was such a nice guy throughout.

Don't believe for even one minute the army has forgotten my sin of indiscretion with the Reservists. I am now ordered to report to the 10/90 Committee. So, a fitting punishment for my big mouth, I now am stuck with 12 meetings per year, instead of 4.
What is a 10/90? The Canadian Army of Antiquity, 500 years ago, perfected the concept. To address a shortage of soldiers, units are formed with 10% regulars and 90% reservists. Usually tasked for one particular tour, then semi-disbanded.
Stop-gap, dangerous, expensive, poor unit morale due to insufficient group bonding.
Always, a desperation move when short of soldiers.
In today's enviroment, with thousands of regulars cooling their heels and dreaming of a tour, 10/90 is meaningless. You'd never need to do it.
So, this is one of those pie-in-the-sky, might-need-it-in-10years Committees.
We get no travel budget to observe the 2nd Ontarios, but we do get access to their records.
Another clue it's meaningless, they have over 20 officers on it. If they wanted real results, it would be much smaller. A high school debating club.