Chapter 10

Chomsky - 3750 C.E.

"Marriage," repeated Comrade Doctorow incredulously. "Are you telling me you've never heard of the institution of marriage?"

"Well, yes," said Paul. "I've heard of it. There's no way I couldn't have heard of it after having studied so much about the third millennium. It's just not something practised on Godwin."

"You know nothing about matrimony between two people who love one another?" wondered Comrade Leopold Doctorow. "You know nothing about husbands and wives?"

"I always assumed it was just an ancient practise that had dropped out of use centuries ago," said Paul, not at all happy at being quizzed in this way by the government minister. This wasn't why he'd come to Chomsky: the most recently constructed colony in the extensive Socialist Republics of Saturn.

The minister scratched his shaven pate. "I've been married six times. I've had six different husbands. I'm not exactly the best advertisement for the benefits of marriage, but I'd no idea that you anarchists had actually dropped the institution altogether. There can't be very many other colonies in the Solar System who've gone that far. Nevertheless, whatever strange customs you might have in your rustic corner of the Kuiper Belt, the fact is that everywhere else the institution of marriage is still very much alive. And I tell you again that if you wish your lover, your ... erm... girlfriend, to accompany you for the rest of your voyage it is absolutely imperative that you and she should get married."

Paul gazed lovingly at Beatrice as she clasped his hand tightly in hers. "Well, I'm sure neither of us has any objection to getting 'married', have we?" he asked her. "We could just sign whatever documents that need to be signed now if that's not a problem. What do you think, dear?"

"As you say, I have no objection," agreed Beatrice with a broad grin. "Can't we just do it now and get it over with?"

Comrade Leopold Doctorow sighed. "Neither of you seem to know much about matrimony, do you? Do you have no weddings on Ecstasy either?"

"Weddings?" wondered Beatrice. "People do have them. They come from all over the Solar System to do that. Are they also associated with marriage?"

"I despair!" exclaimed the minister as he leaned back in his leather chair. "Yes, a wedding is a solemn exchange of vows and it formalises the state of marriage after you have been engaged. I take it that you don't even consider your lover to be your fiancée?"

"I'm not sure," said Paul, a little puzzled. "What's a fiancée?"

Comrade Doctorow raised his eyebrows and looked over at his husband, whose head like most Saturnians was also shaved. "Okay! Okay! I admit that I'm not really the best person to instruct you in the sacred traditions of marriage. Just be aware that throughout the Solar System it's taken very seriously indeed: especially here in the Socialist Republics of Saturn. It would just not be considered proper for you and Beatrice to travel together under the protection of the Interplanetary Union unless your relationship was officially sanctioned. My secretary will make the proper arrangements and you will be married before you travel on to the Jovian Asteroid Belt. The alternative is that you won't be able to travel with your lover at all. Although the Socialist Republics are tolerant and understanding, there are other nations within the Interplanetary Union who won't countenance that you travel together on such an important mission without a formal union. Do you understand?"

"I suppose so," said Paul, who still didn't comprehend what the fuss was all about.

The majority of Paul's audience with the minister was a rather bland, but it was fascinating to Paul who'd never before had a conversation of any kind with an individual who was designated as belonging to a higher status than him. In Godwin, there were no hierarchies and certainly not formal ones. It wasn't so much that everyone was considered equal: it was just that no one had any claim to be anything else. The very notion of equality, like liberty and fraternity, was so taken for granted that nobody ever made a fuss about it. Paul had assumed that the Socialist Republics of Saturn, a loose confederation of moons, asteroids and colonies united by ideology and planetary orbit, would be similar in that regard, but although everywhere he and Beatrice roamed about Chomsky there were constant reminders of the state's socialist politics, there was also a great deal of evidence that this wasn't entirely a community of equals.

Not only was there rank and status, although everyone was addressed as 'comrade', there were laws and regulations that were also equally alien to Paul. There was even a thriving capitalist economy, together with such financial instruments as a stock exchange, public limited companies and a significant disparity of wealth. But at least nobody was poor. In fact, by Saturnian standards, it was Paul who was poor. However sincerely the Socialist Republics expounded their shared ideology, it seemed that the pursuit of wealth took a rather higher priority. There was some evidence that this kind of mixed economy was some kind of a formula for material success. The nations in Saturn orbit were the wealthiest in the Solar System having overtaken the nations in Earth orbit on most economic measurements just over a century earlier and as the decades passed had further extended their lead in terms of Gross National and Domestic Products. This was despite Earth's unique historical advantage that was once thought to be unsurpassable.

A millennium and a half separated the Socialist Republics from the abominations that masqueraded as socialist societies in the Age of Extremes, but the memory of those decades was still routinely used to discredit Socialist ideology by nations that had adopted opposing economic or political models. Godwin's main criticism of the Socialist Republics was that the society was too homogenous. As far as Paul could see, this homogeneity was most apparent in the fashion for shaven heads (and undoubtedly the rest of the body as well) that was sported by all but a small minority of the population.

Another common aspect of Saturnian culture was the prevalence towards homosexuality, although this tendency didn't seem to have much to do with the tenets of Socialism. Although Paul had many gay and bisexual friends and acquaintances, rather less than a fifth of the population of Godwin were in single sex relationships. In the marble-lined malls and elegant parks of Chomsky, it seemed that the ratio was pretty much totally reversed. Paul thought it was fascinating evidence of the success of social engineering as a response to over-population.

"What difference does it make?" Beatrice asked when Paul confessed to his secret discomfort at being surrounded by male couples (and less so, he had to admit, by the equal number of female ones).

"None," said Paul hurriedly, anxious not to appear homophobic. "None at all. But would there be so many same sex couples if there were fewer incentives to be so? Every film, play and song seems to take it for granted that the most normal relationship is that between a man and another man. Or between a woman and another woman."

"Isn't it just the same thing everywhere else, only the other way round?" remarked Beatrice. "Although there are plenty of places on Ecstasy where women can meet women and men other men, homosexual relationships are in the minority. What's so unnatural that it should be the other way round in Saturn?"

"That's just it!" moaned Paul, aware that his was a losing battle. "Is it really natural at all?"

"Is it natural to wear clothes? Is it natural to live in space? Is it natural to have holographic telecommunications wherever you go? I think that being natural stopped being a fact of life for human beings as soon as they started living in parts of Earth where they had to wear warm clothes and eat cooked food. And that was a long time before humans invented space flight."

Beatrice and Paul attracted the inquisitive stares of almost everyone and it wasn't simply because they were an openly heterosexual couple. It was also because they dressed very differently to the shaven headed comrades. Both Paul's loose clothes and Beatrice's scanty ones contrasted with the tight trousers and suits worn by Saturnians, that emphasised body shape whilst hiding from sight all but the hands, calves and face. Although the clothes were egalitarian in design, there was evidence of social distinction in the understated variation in the quality of the cloth and the elegance of the trimming.

Now that he was on Chomsky Paul began to feel for sure that he was, indeed, on a Very Important Mission, even though he still didn't believe that he deserved such an honour. He still believed that he was something of a fraud even though the authorities in the Interplanetary Union had deemed otherwise. He'd still not been given a clear explanation as to why he was considered such a Very Important Person. No Godwinian was ever considered any more important than anyone else and such an elevated status didn't sit easily on Paul. Even if he hadn't spent all his life in an anarchist colony, it was a role that Paul was never likely to be comfortable with.

All the same, right from the moment he arrived at Chomsky's splendid spaceport, Paul was constantly reminded of his newfound importance. The men and women who'd welcomed him were high ranking ministers, business-people and celebrities whose hands he had to shake and who blandly disguised their opinions of Paul's plain clothes and of Beatrice's near absence of them. It was Beatrice, as always, who accorded herself most gracefully in these situations. She demonstrated her skill at charming the dignitaries who flocked around the couple. This sheltered Paul from the consequences of his many faux pas and embarrassing blunders, but it also added to his discomfort. This was especially so when Beatrice exercised her charms on the women who were so obviously seduced by her beauty and grace.

"Do you really want to get married?" Paul asked Beatrice as they cuddled up together on the huge mattress in their luxurious hotel suite.

"If that's a proposal, then the answer is yes," said Beatrice without hesitation.

Paul had intended it to be more of a speculative question, but he was rather relieved that the troublesome business of courtship was over with so easily. The lovemaking that followed this proposal was torrid and much more prolonged. Paul's testicles were left swollen and bruised for many hours after. Beatrice insisted that the couple enjoy the variants of sexual pleasure that Paul mostly reserved for his virtual lovers.

Beatrice's anus was both tighter and looser than Blanche's. Her oral technique was messier and called for a much more liberal application of spit and saliva. She lacked Blanche's inhuman ability to stay balanced in whatever position Paul put her in but she brought him to spasms of ecstasy that his virtual lover could never equal. She also had an appetite of her own—not one wholly predicated on Paul's lust—that made their lovemaking many times more satisfying.

Needless to say, Paul knew almost none of the wedding guests. His parents had the opportunity to attend as holographic avatars, although they would be out of phase by several light hours, but as they were just as uncomprehending as Paul of what the ceremony signified they responded with rather puzzled comments and the statement that if being 'married' was what Paul wanted then they wished him all the best. They hadn't seen one another for seventy years and were surprised to be reminded that they had any lingering responsibility towards their son. The other wedding guests were chosen more by virtue of their status on Chomsky. Embarrassingly, Paul had difficulty in remembering their names and how to pronounce them.