Futuristic Infantry 20

Over lunch all eyes are fixed hypnotically on the TV, story of the century. Ministry of Health has released its heart attack study. Over the years, the male rate was some 8 times the female. More puzzling yet, the rate among highest-income men was 6 times the rate among lowest-income men.
So why? One particular chemical, previously studied to death and approved as safe, a non-carcinogen. However, it goes to the heart and stays there. Higher you go in the male echelons, more of this chemical is found by autopsy. Among women and down-and-out men, the chemical is totally lacking.
It's used in the orifices of droids: very little in cheap droids, lots in uber-droids.
Ministry of Health lets the droid companies off the hook, confirms they had no knowledge prior to seeing the report. After all, it was considered safe, a non-carcinogen.
It passes through the skin of the male member, passes through the bloodstream, rests in the heart.
Even if the droid companies are innocent, you know they will have a rough economic ride, between lawsuits and sales drop.
And then it's impossible to hear the TV. Loud frivolity as the girls speculate on how easy it will now be to snag guys. I have my doubts, guessing they'll head into gaydom instead.
Saturday's shift confirms my view. We are under siege, more crowded than Mardi Gras, average purchase topping $1,000. By the end of my shift, there is not one gay mag or vid or novella left.
Our manager frantically phones in a super-rush order, but then I imagine everyone else is too. We are told no work next Saturday if they can't find inventory.
The gay porn industry enters a golden era. Most had been operating on one shift, for production and distribution, but now go on a hiring binge, try to go 24/7.
I'm told I could work evenings at the nearby printing plant. I really couldn't, too tiring. Lotta the girls do. They're played out, doing a poor job of preparing for Ulster.
I go everywhere, not to nitpick, but to encourage the girls along. Knowing I have a Master's in History, lotta the girls ask for my take on recent events. They're mystified. With all the droid scare, how come they can't find guys?
I try to explain the concept of ethnocentrism. That is, the belief one's own culture is right and better than others. Larger the nation, more the people tend to buy into ethnocentrism.
So these men have essentially been indoctrinated since childhood into certain views of man-woman sex. Minds are closed, they are not willing to experiment.
The girls are morose. It's scary, what if there is a mega-rumble the night before we go? Our planes could be rather empty.
And then an entrepreneur announces his invention, a condom which effectively stops the passage of the chemical.
Yes there will still be lawsuits, but now probably not a total ending of droid sales. Gay porn suddenly isn't superhot anymore. The temps are laid off.
To my immense relief, we climb aboard the giant transports with nothing huge having happened. Oh yes, 6 charged with D&D, but that's penny ante.

First day in Portadown, I've just finished visiting one of my VCP's (vehicle check points). A lad of 10 or 11 with intelligent eyes shyly asks, "ma'am, speak with you a minute please?"
Of course.
"You see ma'am, I've seen the TV stories but they aren't clear. How is your Immigration law changing?"
I explain to him how anyone in Ulster between 18 and 30, in good health, with no criminal record, will now be permitted to go, then offer him a lift.
We stop by his front gate, I see a man working in a potato patch.
Billy calls out, "Uncle Donald, can we invite the Major for tea?"
He comes over, warmly shakes my hand, tells me our forces are doing a fine job. Says he'll understand if I'm too busy.
Donald slices a ginger loaf cake, pours tea and we settle in. He relates his family's centuries-long tradition of military service. Billy too wants to go overseas, join us when he's 18.
Billy asks for my e-mail address, so he can ask me stuff about the army. I cheerfully agree, he is a nice polite boy.
Donald walks me to the jeep after. Polite tone, "you be careful now Maj. Don't get dragged into too much e-mail."
"How so?"
"See ma'am, it's like this. Only adults die in terr attacks, that's where Billy lost his mother and father. Any men, women left alive are just swamped, being aunt and uncle to all these kids. See, it's like he's decided to adopt you as his aunt. Just don't get too caught up."
"He's a good lad, I'll do what I can."
"Thank you so much ma'am. See, he needs both influences to come out right. Wouldn't want him to be one of those. Oh the word is so bad, ma'am, I just could not say it. Want him to be normal, grow up, get married, have kids."
As I drive away, I realize there is hope for the future. Billy and a lot like him will bring a sense of old-fashioned decency to our country. To say nothing of being taxpayers and young workers.
Yeah, droidism won't die out, it's entrenched, but neither will family life die out.
I'll do my best for Billy, however many e-mails it takes.
As days go by, I find out I'm not alone. Many of these girls have been adopted as e-mail aunts by boys and girls here. Lotta mess conversations are on how best to respond to specific questions.
Yes we come through our tour without combat. I'm proud of 3rd Torngat, did a lot for people here.
We return to find gaydom finished, washed-out, passe. The rationale, if you hafta use a condom anyway, may as well use it on a droid.
The droid industry discovers a way to use 1/10 of the chemical. Yes, they lost some lawsuits, but now their shares are higher than ever.
Thrice a week I get e-mail from Billy, respond the same. Somehow, it makes life more worth living when someone relies on you.
I read some on history of Ulster. Portadown is the only place where both sides have this absolute prohibition on killing children. Pretty much any army unit stationed there, same thing happens, lotta the girls end up becoming e-mail aunts.
You may think it's one sided. It isn't. D&D is way down. Average day, our strength tops 350. Nothing like having some sense of purpose in life.