— Yes, probably — agreed Sekar — when I blurted out about separate Aboriginal culture, Jr. Vlkov looked at me like I was a moron, and cursed me in utafoa.
— What did you expect? This is like saying that Shakespeare's sonnets are a separate culture of the British.
— You got me confused. We say that our culture is not protected at all, but on the contrary, it is protected better than anywhere else.
— What, ruff her jets , protection! — she burst out — the culture is the life of the society, and it is inseparable from the society itself. As long as the society is alive, nothing can happen to its culture. Try messing with the culture, and the society will trample over you .
— Then why are there acts for cultural rights protection ? — asked the reporter.
— Because some states don’t like the culture which their society produces and consumes naturally. Just look into what gets protected under the guise of culture! Not Homer, not Shakespeare, not even Mickey Mouse.
— That’s right. Then what actually is protected?
— That's the right question, bro — approved Jella — what is protected is not something that the society needs, but what those who speak on behalf of “all of them” wish to be protected . We solved th e problem firmly, while the Western politicians folded at the face of a bunch of crooks and mentally handicapped scum. They chickened out and are trying to get away with it through tolerance. As in, let's pretend that we do not notice their mental infirmity . To avoid conflicts, we indulge these freaks in everything they want. Let us avoid anything that could offend them. The inevitable result: ordinary people have to behave as if they too were mentally mutilated. A tolerant society is built to suit the freaks. The norm gets considered a deformity and deformity — a social norm. You know, bro, what's the reason for the scandal around the "troglodytes children"?
— I'm not sure. You tell me.
— Okay, I will. There — Jella waved in the direction of sunset — various freaks are used to that in a humane post-industrial society everybody gets out of their skin to suit them. No fucking fundamentalist would show off like that in Vietnam. There they have a Marxist industrial technocracy, and if you try it — she took her forefinger at his forehead — bang-bang and that’s it. And here they came to expect everything to be built for them. They can only dream.
— But what does all that have to do with Committee 48 ?
— Everything. The report they published reads : the Charter has sixteen contradictions with UN regulations on family and cultural rights, and it recommended the General Assembly to take economic sanctions against Meganesia until the contradictions are eliminated. Without this report they would not be brought to trial, as we respect the freedom of speech. This is a public call for the destruction of the Charter.
— What, do you think the sanctions could take place ?
Jella thoughtfully moved the cup around the table.
— God knows, I’m no expert. In my opinion, they don’t have the guts.
— Of course. Can you answer a few questions about yourself?
— Easily. What do you want to know?
— G eneral stuff: family, hobbies, religion.
— Depends on what you call family. At least, that's me and my three year old son. But , as I'm a mobile girl, he spends a lot of time with my mother and her third husband, the dad , and his second wife, or my ex-boyfriend, his biological father. To tell the truth, Andy, the guy with whom I basically live, prefers us to be more involved with the boy. He’s making sense, because if we go for another child (and why not?), the experience ...
— Stop, stop — Sekar helplessly raised his hands — I'm confused.
— No wonder. I sometimes get confused myself.
— Um, can I write this: lives in a large family, has a son?
— OK. What else? Hobby: diving. Religion: Catholicism.
— Catholicism? — said the reporter with surprise — are you a Catholic?
— So what? After all, why should there — Jella jabbed a finger up — not be someone who created this cool universe.
— No, but let’s say, you don’t really look like ...
— Bullshit. The Catholic Church teaches he — she again pointed up — doesn’t give a crap . He ’s got a decent sense of humor after all .
— The Catholic Church teaches that? I would never have thought. Oh yes, you separated from the Vatican.
— More precisely, we drove them the hell out of here. Our consultant, a doctor of theology at Oxford, has scientifically prove n popes are impostors, and wrote a good catechism about it in 5000 characters . It’s easy to read on a mobile or elnote — Jella tapped the electronic notebook — it’s used not only here, but also in South America, India and Australia. On our bishop’s website you can download the text and the audio.
— I sure will — the reporter said.
8. Hernando Torres, the coordinator of the government
In the office of “Pacific social news” there was a traditional mayhem accompanying the release of the morning edition. Political news chief of department, muttering something about molasses, snatched the memory stick and the folder with paper copies from Sekar’s hands, and rushed into the elevator to the floor where the layout was being done.
“No hello , no how are you", muttered Sekar into space.
The clock was showing quarter past four. This meant Helena has already been seeing her seventh dream, and there was no reason to hurry home. Having decided that, he thought to sit in the cafe for an hour, get a grasp of the latest news , and chat with the colleagues. As a matter of fact , most of the breaking news shift did the same, and there already were half a dozen people. Sekar heard loud clapping, stomping and whistling, and wondered for a moment whether people were watching football. Nothing of the sort. The TV was tuned to ABC-online, showing some round table, and, judging by the gestures of the participants, it’s been close to the boiling point.
The emotions in the café were also over the edge, and in the eye of the storm was Inaori Atairoa from the IT department. She was dressed, as usual, in faded denim shorts and a dazzling white shirt with short sleeves. The shirt was unbuttoned and tied to a knot around the navel, and it was possible to describe the figure of a girl almost completely. The trick, however, was not in the shape, but in that elusive plastic of movement that distinguished utafoa (one could see from a kilometer away Inaori belonged to that race). Usually, five or six men would be buzzing around her, but this early in the morning, there were only two.