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"...and don't forget, don't ask any of them to dance!"
I boarded the Sally K, and the closing airlock shut out the last minute advice of friends and space-dock workers. My
second in command reported all cargo checked and stowed, so I headed down to the control room and prepared for departure from
Novo Terra. I felt the tension as I entered, and spotted the cause of it immediately. No captain likes a woman aboard a
working vessel, but to have just one among a crew of lonely men was just asking for trouble. Especially this one, a well
stacked redhead.
I groaned inwardly at the thought of having to act as chaperone for the entire voyage, and made a mental note to warn
her to keep her cabin door locked tight. I hadn't been looking forward to this trip to the planet Suffragette, and mentally
castrated the clown who'd decided to assign such a good-looking woman to our ship, in spite of assurances that they'd pick
a woman who wasn't likely to spark any problems with an all male crew.
I'd argued long and loud against a cargo drop to a planet where men had been declared second class citizens, and homophobia
was raging so high that they wouldn't allow a ship crewed solely by men to dock at their space port.
"You go where the company tells you to go," I was told, "We can always get another skipper for the Sally
K if we have to. Come on, it's only one trip, and we'll make sure your female liaison has a face like a meteor accident looking
for somewhere to happen."
I was beaten and I knew it, so I cornered the company rep in the local bar after he came off his shift and asked him what
I should expect.
He told me it would cost me a beer for his professional opinion, and when he had it safe in his fist, he started. "Basically,
you keep a low profile and allow the female liaison officer to handle all dealings with the locals, that is if you manage
to meet them at all. Don't speak to a local unless she speaks first, and don't even dream of making a pass at one if you
want to come out of this with your balls intact."
I squirmed in reflex, and gulped at my beer as if to wash away various images. "But how do they manage for er, relaxation,
I mean procreation?" I wanted to know.
"They have their men of course. It's a matriarchy, not a ladies only society. They just keep them at the same level
that generations of men kept them, only even stricter." He settled himself deeper into his chair and stared into his
amber glass.
"It started off here on Novo Terra, in the first wave of the Diaspora. Seems like a breakaway group of Middle Eastern
ladies decided that they didn't want to carry on being enslaved by men, and they soon found out that the brand new local laws
entitled them to colonise a planet on their own terms. They declared a matriarchy, where men live on sufferance, with no
civil rights at all. You ask me, it's retaliation on every man for the oppression of a few mad Taliban Mullahs, and personally
I think they've swung too far the other way, but it's their choice and we have to accept it, if we want to do business with
them."
"And their men agreed to this?" I asked, incredulously, almost spilling my beer.
"Oh, not at first, and not without a fight and a great many appeals to the courts," the rep said. "But
in the end, they either went along with it, or stayed behind while their wives and kids sailed off into the sunset without
them. I guess they had hopes that when they were out of reach of the Novo Terran legal system they could soon overturn their
women's outrageous ideas, but the gals proved they had more mettle than their men gave them credit for, and the status quo
never changed.
"And not just Muslim women either! Lots of ladies of all races and religions decided that it was a good idea to
shake men's dominance once and for all, and the party was on for young and old. I reckon they have more female priests than
nuns on Suffragette now. And single male priests are as welcome there as a Brussels sprout in a box of chocolates."
"They're not likely to welcome us with open arms then," I remarked, refilling my glass.
"That's why you'll have a woman on board. It's unlikely they'll let you and your men go beyond the boundaries of
the spaceport, and you'll be strictly prohibited from meeting any of the local men, in case you cause discontent and disruption
with your antiquated ideas of male equality. She'll handle all your business with the locals for you."
Damn and blast it all, we couldn't expect to meet any willing ladies at planet-fall, and we weren't even going to be shown
the local nightspots by the blokes. It was going to be a long six months!
I was still feeling grouchy over the injustice of the universe in general and the company in particular when take-off
time approached, and I gave the orders to engage full thrusters.
Hmmm, I guess she isn't bad at that, I thought, sneaking a glance across the control room at our unwelcome but comely
passenger. Maybe I should take charge of the spare key to her quarters, and kinda test it one quiet evening, just to make
sure I've kept the real spare out of reach of the licentious crew!
© Sandy Parkinson 12th August 2006. Word count 960
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