“I heard they keep women chained in cages,” Martha muttered low.
“That’s true, I’ve heard it too,” Carl testified.
“They look huge,” Marie said and I couldn’t decide if it was fear or excitement in her voice.
“Martha, where did you get these pictures?” I asked her.
“I visited a friend close to the border and she brought me along to see them.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Her community trade with the Nmen. Since the men aren’t allowed to access our Wise-Share network, communication is limited to traders from both sides who meet to negotiate. Once deals have been made, drones make the deliveries. They get fruits, vegetables, electronics and other things from us and pay us with gemstones, wood, and other natural resources.”
“And you took these pictures?” I asked, having never seen Martha so animated. The woman usually sat motionless in the corner when I taught, but now her eyes were shining as she had our full attention.
“I took the photos secretly, yes. And I wasn’t afraid of the men, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“How could you not be afraid?” a fragile-looking old mouse asked.
“Because I’m too old for them to take an interest in me. My friend is too,” Martha said. “That’s why it’s only men and old crones that are allowed to trade with the Nmen.”
“Did you talk to any of them?”
“No, but I heard them speak and they spoke English like we do, but with an accent.”
“Yes, I could have told you that,” I said, realizing that I was no longer teaching this class, I was being taught; everyone was looking at Martha.
“Weren’t you scared they would kill you?” Carl asked her. “They’re unpredictable and cruel, you know.”
“Tsk,” Martha wrinkled her nose. “Why would they kill an old woman who didn’t pose a threat in any way?”
“You can’t keep the pictures, Martha; if someone finds out you’ll be in big trouble,” I pointed out.
“Why are they anatomically so different from normal men?” Marie interrupted me.
“Well…” I turned to look at the pictures of the large males with their long hair, big beards, and muscled chests and arms. “It’s not that they are anatomically different from our men, it’s just that our men would never be this muscled or be so ungroomed. Nmen look strange to us, since our men take great pride in their appearance and typically have all their facial and body hair removed. In the old days, muscles and beards on men was normal. There was even a time when men were considered physically superior to women because they were bigger and stronger, but these days fit women are often stronger than most men.” I looked to Carl. “Why do you think that is?”
He shrugged. “I suppose modern men wanted to separate themselves from the power-hungry Neanderthals who led us into the toxic war.” The old man was skinny and held a hand to his sunken cheeks. “I had my facial hair permanently removed when I was seventeen, so I never bothered with a beard, and I would have rather died than have bulging muscles like that. They look like gorillas.”
Martha furrowed her brow. “It’s a mystery to me why Nmen would need to grow muscles in this day and age. What’s the purpose of being strong? Don’t they have robots to do the heavy lifting?”
I tilted my head. “As far as we know, they have robots, so maybe their appearance is a fashion statement. It’s hard to say.”
“My friend told me they import lots of sex-bots,” Martha said matter-of-factly.
“Which is good,” I added, “Because remember that the peace treaty was made to stop them from kidnapping women for sexual and procreative purposes. Now we supply them with enough boys to sustain their population but not grow in numbers. We also supply them with sex-bots to satisfy their sexual needs. It’s a good peaceful way to settle things.”
“I delivered a son,” a little fragile woman said suddenly.
We all bowed our heads in respect to her. To voluntarily carry a Nchild was seen as a great sacrifice. We didn’t have soldiers who fought wars, but we honored the peacekeepers who kept us safe from the Nmen by giving birth to boys already destined to go to the Northlands.
“We thank you,” I said and took her hands.
“Can we see the picture of the ruler again?” Marie asked, insensitive to the emotional pain of the other woman. I reminded myself that Marie wasn’t a bad person, she was just slipping back into childhood with her lack of manners and disregard for anyone but herself.
“Of course.”
I showed the picture of the previous ruler Marcus again and didn’t know if I should be amused or shocked that Marie looked almost taken with him.
