"Parenthood is the most important job you'll ever have."
"Someone PAYS you for being a parent?"
"Okay. Parenthood is the most important unpaid internship you'll ever have." -- Bard2dBone
Of all the laws of the Galactic Alliance, the ones concerning parenthood are the hardest to swallow for various worlds. Especially for certain colonies of the rather aptly-named Terra. Colonies like Quiverfull, Abundance, and a few of the Greater Deregulations have... limited views on the useful attributes of half of their population. And on the colony of Maia, it is not the half one generally expects of humans.
Grandmatriarch Lyse of Maia looked over the extensive list of Galactic Laws concerning the rights of cogniscents within the Alliance's boundaries. "These are all well-considered," she allowed. "You've spent much time on considering freedoms and considering their abuses." This was something of a compliment from an aggressive matriarchy like Maia. "This clause... Regardless of race, creed, gender, or faith, it says. Of course this excludes those who are protected for their own good, does it not?"
"There are protections for those of diminished responsibility," allowed Negotiator Prim. "Is that the portion of the general population you are concerned about?"
"Surely you know of the wild ones," said Grandmatriarch Lyse. "The ones who leap without looking. The toxic and aggressive ones. They are necessary for reproduction, but... they are not the best for society as a whole. We care for them, of course, and we have been selecting for the best of traits, but..." she sighed. "You give them an inch and they expect the solar system."
Negotiator Prim was used to this sort of thing happening. Matriarchies had ways of dealing with the rabble-rousers that ranged from subtle to gross. This was already sounding like the most gentle. "We do wish to inspect the facilities, of course."
"Of course. You will find them most equitable."
A young woman in her mid-twenties and her second trimester escorted Negotiator Prim to a high-walled facility in the middle of the town. Inside was a spacious garden riddled with tyre tracks, and a large building. "This," said the young woman, "Is one of our many Frathouses. Where the dangerous ones are kept." They kept within the observation deck of the wall, peering through windows as some of the members tore around the landscape in reckless vehicles. "This one is for adults, of course. We keep them supplied with everything they want."
At a security desk, footage showed the interior of the spacious abode. Men worked at projects. Men played games with other men. Men lifted weights. Men read. Men cooked. Men wrestled with each other. They all seemed perfectly happy with everything they had offered to them. Including what seemed to be a vast library of pornography.
"These are donors-only males," said the young woman. "We collect their life milk with special devices and match their physical profiles to the mothers who wish those attributes. Fortunately, they throw to girls most often, and that is advantageous." A brief pause as one of the men on screen climaxed into what was essentially a masturbation aid. "These are the ones that failed a proper education and insist on being violent. These are the ones who assume that all other males are like rabid dogs to women. These are... they want to be irresponsible."
So their solution was to leave them in a sealed area with others of their kind and let them do whatever they wanted without ever seeing or touching a live woman. One of them, on the screens, was busy choking the effigy of a woman as he rutted away at the doll.
Were they allowed the freedoms of a Galactic Citizen, they would be murderers, abusers, and worse.
"We can only offer them a full education," said the young woman. "We try to teach all our males to be caring, sensitive, and understanding. Some... just don't want to learn. These are the ones that thrive off the records of the senseless times. The ones who... well. The ones who want the senseless times back." She sighed, "They would never pass your parenting tests, but they have the right to reproduce with anyone who wants their attributes."
Senseless times. That was what the people of Maia insisted on calling their pre-shattering era of Terran life. When toxic gender roles abounded and arguments concerning the personal right to self-identity were rife. When there was a very loud portion of the male population campaigning for the days, centuries prior, when females 'knew their place'. Which was, if Prim knew her Terran history, apparently chained to a kitchen sink.
Compared to that, this was practically a paradise.
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / BelleMedia]
If you like my stories, please Check out my blog and Follow me.
Send me a prompt [17 remaining prompts!]
