Page 14 of The Artist
“No, but you can choose not to act on it. There’s nothing wrong with friendships between men and women, but we don’t believe in marriage as you call it,” Victor argued.
“Why do you want to have sex with people anyway? Don’t you have pleasure-bots?” Lachlan asked.
“You mean sex bots?” Victor wrinkled his nose up. “There’s never been a need for us to develop such machines. Sex is shared freely.”
My eyes went to Belle, wondering how many partners she might have had. A knot in my stomach told me I didn’t care for the idea of her being promiscuous.
“When you say sex does it involve other types of sex than mere hetero sex?” Doreen from the Motherlands asked.
Victor shrugged. “Sex is sex, nobody cares what gender you’re with.”
“But if you’re all just screwing around, how do you prevent the women from getting pregnant with the wrong man according to your eugenics?” Freya asked with her eyebrows drawn close together as if she was annoyed with Victor.
Celeste adjusted the napkin she’d laid on her pregnant belly and answered Freya’s question. “When we have our blood the first time, we get medicine in our thighs to prevent pregnancy.”
“I think she means when they get their period,” Thor muttered to Freya, who nodded but kept her focus on Celeste.
“Okay, so you get injected with a type of medicine that prevents you from getting pregnant, but then what happens when you decide to have a child?”
Celeste shook her head. “Not medicine but a small thing.” She held up her fingers signaling the size of what had to be some type of implant. “And then when we’re ready to do our duty, we have the small thing removed and we wait two months before we get impregnated. From the time we have it removed to the time we’re pregnant, we must abstain from sex.”
“Do you know who the father is?” I asked.
Celeste shook her head. “We’re impregnated with a sperm donor. His identity doesn’t matter as long as our DNA is a safe match.”
“I still can’t believe that you don’t get to raise your own children; that’s so unnatural,” I muttered.
“Everychild ismychild,” Celeste explained but it still made no sense to me.
“Belle is a dom and works with the babies. She can tell you that they are all happy and thriving,” Victor claimed.
Our gazes once again fell to Belle. Porn clips of dominatrixes littered my mind. I couldn’t imagine someone as innocent and sweet as Belle dressed in black leather and dominating men sexually. I also failed to see the connection between a dom and babies.
“Hold on, what do you mean she’s a dom?” I asked.
Victor was happy to explain, “You know that by the time we’re fifteen, we’re separated into two categories of citizens. A for academic and P for practical. In the practical group there are external workers meaning anyone who works outside, which would include the people who build our homes, but also the Explorers who collect water, soil, and plant samples for our scientists and go on expeditions to explore new territory. In the practical group we also have the domestic workers who do repairs, clean, cook, and take care of our infants. We call themdomfor short. Once the children start school, they will be taught by teachers from the A category. The A category consists of teachers, scientists, developers, inventors, politicians, and, well, you get the picture, right?”
“Yes, we get the picture, but what if you want to switch categories after you’ve been in one group for a while?” Holly asked with her honey-sweet tone.
The French exchanged glances before Isaac answered, “That would be unusual. Everyone has a role to play and it would be sad for the expertise of someone to be lost.”
“What Isaac means is that it never happens,” Celeste added. “You can change around with your category but jumping from A to P or vice versa isn’t done. We are all A’s except Belle, who is part of our domestic team and can testify that our children are cherished.”
Belle nodded. “It’s true. Once a baby is born, we have a large team who cares for them and loves them. They lack for nothing.”
“Do you breastfeed them?” Freya asked.
“No, we use bottles, but we hold them and interact with them as any parent would.”
My question flew out of me. “Do you kiss them?”
Belle gave me a warm smile. “Yes, Mason, all the time.”
I can’t explain why hearing my name on Belle’s lips made me sit a little straighter.
There was silence around the table for a second as waiters replaced our plates with the next course. The Motlanders were vegan by law and Freya was vegan by choice, but the rest of us enjoyed a delicious roasted duck.
“After eleven years of us meeting and discussing our views, I’m still fascinated with how different our cultures are,” Freya said.
