by Set Sytes
Moving quickly from one district to another made it apparent how specified the laws were. Any country has highly specific laws but, until immediately contrasted with another’s, the distinctions remain vague. Not so in Rule. It was a strange, troubling feeling to move a few steps from one moral paradigm to another, perhaps vastly different. To walk from District Nine where traditional marriage was sanctified and sex outside of marriage not only grossly contemptible but in the upper echelon of illegality, to an area of the polar opposite such as District One, where strong emotional attachments were against the law, was at first disorientating for new visitors to Rule. To go from an age of consent of thirty in District Nine to an age of consent of twelve in District Fourteen, or no age of consent in Thirteen, could be even more alarming. At first. Soon, the spell of Rule bewitched everyone. One of two things happened. Either they identified with and respected certain districts (or just the one) and their moral and legal codes, and vilified others, or, more commonly among visitors, they lost respect for all of Rule’s laws, seeing Rule not as a collection of what should be far-flung states shackled together, but as an absurdity, an illogical mess, where justice and morality became, in its arbitrary intemperance, a joke, a game to be played. A system to be fucked with. Whether one indulged in whatever practices were legal in that district before hopping to the next to try something else, or, for the risk-takers and thrill-seekers, indulging in whatever was illegal, moving to another before they were caught.
Breaking the law in Rule was not without considerable risks. The law was not kind. That was something true to every district. The sexual crimes, considered crimes of obscenity, were usually worthy of capital punishment, for perpetrators against such stringent moral taboos were considered inhuman. Torture was sometimes employed, for the perpetrator’s mind, body, and in some cases soul, was such an abhorrence that it had to be cleansed, with all intangible grotesquery removed as if carving or burning out a tumour, even if such a purification involved the deepest of mutilation.
You could not defend yourself in the districts of Rule. There was no jury or trial as others might know it. Once you were arrested, you were charged, you were done. The local government called your crime and exacted the punishment, which usually ended in death for all but misdemeanours, none of which were sexually-orientated. In a number of districts murder was significantly less atrocious an act than particular sexual transgressions.
The laws of the districts, especially when contrasted against each other, seemed irrational, nonsensical, just as those of one culture might appear to another halfway round the world. In Districts Four and Fourteen rape (with differing quantifiers) was legal against women, provided it was not vaginal. In District Eight rape of males was legal. District Two allowed for much sexual fetish, including the legality of incest, with its chief laws against vaginal intercourse, and in particular pregnancy. Any woman found to be made pregnant whilst in Two would be killed, her unborn foetus dying inside her. Through DNA matching the father would then be hunted down and also executed.
Other districts held strong claims against anal or oral intercourse, or allowed for polygamous marriage, or bestiality, or forbade sexual contact with augs, or the practice of BDSM, or were for or against homosexual or heterosexual relations. Six had a zero tolerance policy on any fetish. The conservative Nine had far reaching obscenity laws, with a strict dress code enforced for both sexes, and an early curfew for under twenty-fives. Some districts outlawed prostitution, some economies thrived on it. Thirteen, with its zero age of consent that was a constant source of horror to some of the others, had mandatory contraception and monogamy laws, as well as a regulation penis size (forcibly controlled), and a law (fully open to police interpretation) forbidding the perceived degradation of females. They in turn saw themselves as the stalwart guardians of the otherwise moral turpitude of Rule. Likewise District Five, which had legal incest and yet a tough, no-nonsense law that sex must always be “loving”.
And so on, and so on. It was a melting pot of discordance, a judicial cesspool thriving on sanctimony and moral inanity. But for those who made, kept, and lived the laws, it was nothing of the sort, at least not in their district.
DISTRICT 8, BAR
They sat and watched as two pubescent teenagers were propositioned by an old couple. The woman held out something they couldn’t see and the teenagers’ eyes lit up. The man extended a hand and touched one of the girls on the shoulder. He blinked slowly under his thick rimmed glasses and took out a handkerchief from his coat and wiped his brow with it. The woman smiled at the two girls and showed them the contents of her hand again.
Do you think they’re legal? Red asked.
I don’t know, said Mr White. Maybe not.
Why do people still wear those things?
What things?
Glasses.
Not everyone has the money for augments, Johnny said. And many just don’t want to fuck with their bodies.
Even in this day and age.
Even in this day and age.
They watched as the young girls were led away by the couple. There was an insistent pull in the grip, one of the girls faltering but dragged along anyway. She looked a little apprehensive. Her friend looked determined and whispered to her. There was no room for doubt in the world. No halfway points. One must go or not go.
What’s the age of consent here? Mr White asked more for Kidd Red’s benefit than his own.
Fourteen. Johnny didn’t take his eyes off Red. Sounds right up your alley. Or right up hers.
Fuck! Kidd Red threw his hands up in the air, then laid them down again on his lap and shook his head several times. It’s too young.
Surely not for you? Johnny smirked.
I’m not goin below fourteen. It ain’t right.
What’s the youngest you’ve ever had? Mr White enquired.
Thirteen, when I were a bit younger. And I only got with her cause she had tits like melons.
Thirteen was a normal age to have sex in the past. Everyone did it, said Johnny.
That’s the past. We know better now.
Do we.
Yeah.
I wonder what will be considered abnormal in the future. What new lines of perversion will be drawn. Rearranged. To cast every previous generation down to Hell.
They were natural too, said Red wistfully. You know those growth ‘plants don’t take no effect at that age.
Sure they do. I’ve seen a few. District Fourteen, you can find them all over. They got new implants now that work on early starters. They’re going for younger and younger. Like you.
Red ignored this. You could tell, anyhow. No matter how fuckin good they get, I know what’s real. All soft and jigglin and . . . yeah. It was an exception to the rule.
What, the pedophile rule.
It’s not pedophilia if I’m not touching kids! Besides, I’m too young to be a pedophile.
You’ve never too young to be a pedophile.
What, so you can get a fuckin ten year old pedophile?
You’re not ten years old, you’re a grown man.
A young man. Who ain’t touchin no kids.
And why aren’t you?
I told you, it’s wrong.
Johnny laughed. Wrong he says. Wrong. What’s right about any of this? He waved his arm around.
We might not be the nicest of guys -
There’s an understatement.
- But we’re just playin around. Pedophilia, now that’s some kinda mental disorder. They’re fucked in the head.
Why is it a disorder?
Because . . . Cause it’s fuckin unnatural.
Unnatural. Some folks might be pretty hot up on the idea that anal sex is unnatural.
Red grinned like a naughty child. Anal sex feels pretty natural to me. And animals do it.
Animals are also pedophiles.
Animals just don’t give a shit.
Exactly.
Red dropped his smile. But seriously, my shit’s harmless.
Would all the girls you’ve savagely speared in the ass agree with that?
Hey! I ain’t no sadist like you man. I’m out for both our enjoyment.
And then there’s your scatological obsession. You with your cock all steeped in shit. Low down with the pigs.
Watch your mouth, I ain’t ready to masturbate.
Now I know most folks out there would definitely think you’re mentally . . . unsound for all that.
Red pffted. Whatever. I ain’t into children.
Sure you are. As far into them as you can get.
No. They’re too underdeveloped. He beckoned at Mr White. You know me White, you know I like tits and ass.
Mr White nodded mutely, so Red turned back to Johnny. They’re undeveloped in the brain too.
I thought you liked that? Johnny wouldn’t cease with the jibes.
Not like that. They lack perception, y’know? Appreciation of the corruption. They don’t know shit. They don’t know what they want. It’s just, just abuse, and not the good kind neither.
I like them clever, said Johnny. Well, certain forms of cleverness. Cotton-ons. I want ones with the best understanding, the best understanding of what’s happening to them. I want to see clarity in their eyes. Horror and clarity. Horror and understanding.
He took a big gulp of whiskey. But you like dumb bimbos.
Red mouth upturned wryly. They are fun when they’re thick, that’s for sure.
I always knew you were a cock fiend.
Red stuck his tongue out.
Johnny rolled his eyes. Tell me Red, what if you saw a girl with huge tits and a fat ass. Rest of her slim. Just how you like. Thick black eyeshadow, red lipstick. Mini-skirted. Tight shirt tied round her midriff, exposing a whole ton of flesh that makes your mouth water. She’s all over you. Wanting you.
You sound like you’re turnin yourself on now.
Johnny ignored this. She tells you she’s twelve. What do you do?
Red paused to contemplate. How big are the tits? What ratios we talkin here?
My point made.
Pah.
They call you Kidd Red because you leave infants bleeding out their butts.
Fuck off.
You’re going to fuck a middle aged woman just to spite me now aren’t you?
I was goin to fuck one anyway.
I bet.
My daughter will be here tomorrow anyhow. I can wait.
Your daughter. Of course. And how old is she again?
Fifteen.
No comment. Johnny Black downed the last of his whiskey and smashed the glass back onto the bar. He got up to go, and the others followed suit.
Wait, did I hear right, your daughter? said Mr White, confused.
He’s just being facetious.
No, I ain’t. You’ll see her tomorrow.
Johnny stared at him. Are you real? He tapped hard on Red’s forehead. Is there anyone in there? Is this a setup?
Of course I’m for real, chuckled Red, dodging out the way of Johnny’s finger. You couldn’t fake a fella like me.
Because there’s a lot of them about you know. Most of the people in the city are just empty vassals. They got so little to them that they may as well be cut-outs.
I know it.
STREET
Mr White tried to get in Red’s forward view as they exited the bar and walked down the street, half walking backwards, his hands protesting before his mouth had started. Red, Red. Red.
That’s me, said Red, not slowing.
You’re . . . you’re incestuous? With your own daughter? Have I got that right? Or is that completely the wrong end of the stick. If so I apologise. It’s just you kinda made out -
No, that’s right man, smiled Red. It’s alright though, don’t worry about it. I told you I was a bit fucked up. Some things just go down a certain way, y’know?
Johnny shook his head in front of them but said nothing.
You’ll meet her tomorrow, maybe. Don’t worry about it. Seriously. He laughed at Mr White’s expression.
But – but, she’s fifteen?
I know, I know. What can I say. I was an early starter.
Johnny slowed down until they caught him up, and he moved close towards Red, right up to his ear. He twitched and leant away with a silly smile stamped on his face as if Johnny was some stinking drunkard.
I’m going to fuck you up the ass someday.
Red couldn’t have taken it seriously because he snorted. You think I ain’t had the tables turned on me before? I’ve had it a fair plenty number of times. I know how it feels.
You won’t know shit.
BAR
What was all that about back there man? Kidd Red asked, trying to sound casual and leaning his back against the wall of the next bar. It could have been identical to the last one. Just rearranged, like the whole city was. Nothing new, just templates for the residency of all deviant souls. To fill in with oneself. The details in the people. Always in the people.
And the devil in the detail.
All what? Johnny replied emotionlessly.
All that pedophile shit.
Messing with you.
No you weren’t. Not fully.
What of it.
You don’t see anythin wrong with pedophilia?
You do?
Yes!
Your morals seem very particular. Picky, even. Why do you not fuck kids? Even though you kind of do.
I told you why.
You like dumb girls though. You like them young, dumb and full of cum. Their intellects must be those of girls younger than them. Hell, a twenty year old might have the intellect of a ten year old. You fuck them, you’re taking advantage.
It don’t work like that.
Tell me how it works.
Kidd Red sighed and stood up, his back stiffer than before. I ain’t gettin into no argument about whether or not I’m takin advantage. Maybe I am, maybe I ain’t. Maybe everone is to some extent. I reckon so. But I will say there’s more to bein older than intelligence and the body. You know there is.
What’s that then? Johnny Black smiled, relaxed and cool.
There’s experience. They’ve lived. They’ve seen things. That’s a kind of intelligence. They understand, where it counts. They understand sex. Yeah, even if they ain’t had it before – although I’ll swear now that my preference ain’t never been for virgins. I like corruptin girls, sure, but I like somethin to start with. Only those that wanna be corrupted! I’m no predator, man. I’m just, well I’m just me. They gotta have that inner slut just waitin to be awakened. I can see it in their eyes, all dormant and nestin. And full-blown practiced whores who’ll do whatever right off the bat are a joy, a real fuckin joy to be with.
You like them with understanding too then, Johnny murmured. Maybe a different kind to me, but the same ball park, maybe. They gotta know what’s happening, the more they know it the better. That your cock is a cock, that their body is a body, and the two are together, and it is all real, all happening.
That their asshole is an asshole. Red laid himself back against the wall, and his speech softened.
That my knife is a knife and their blood is caused by it. That their pain is their pain, and it is right and true, though they do not understand why. Or perhaps they do. Perhaps we all do, when it comes to the final moments. I hope so.
Easy now, Red muttered.
Perhaps, just for this matter and nothing more, we’re two sides of the same coin, Johnny mused, stroking his thick stubble. You are the filth wizard.
Ha, I like that. And you’re the fuckin sadist.
Something like that, at least.
Red’s eyes narrowed. Wait a fuckin second, have you just been playin devil’s advocate this whole fuckin time?
Johnny grinned, baring his lion teeth without amusement. I’m not his advocate. I’m the Devil.
Yeah, yeah. Red waved his hand distractedly. Then let’s get to the meat of the issue, right. Stop fuckin about. From everthin you s
aid it seems to say that you think that my refusal to fuck kids is based on preference, nothin more. I’ve denied this, and I got no fuckin more I can say on the matter. It’s about a damn sight more than age of fuckin consent laws.
Johnny rolled his eyes. Of course it is. It always has been. Rule is a madhouse, but the world’s no different, it’s just on a larger scale. You get nations with different AOCs and in each one it’s like that’s the moral truth. Is it hell. They’re just laws, and they lost their ground when relativism took over. Here, it’s blazing daylight, you can’t even see a shadow of the truth. You and me and our two-headed coin, we use our own judgement. Maybe we disagree on each other’s. But we’re thinking for ourselves. I am more than you, of course. You’re pretty much going on instinct, like an animal on heat.
Bullshit. I seen no fuckin judgement from you on any account. You act against consent, I never do that.
Consent is never cut and paste.
What’s that supposed to mean?
Something to take from others. Stick it on your wall, big fucking woop, frame it like a diploma. People don’t even understand their own consent let alone another’s. It can mean anything. You can make it up. Artificial. Build it in a lab. Teach them to nod their heads like dolls. Give them a quiz before you have sex. Go out with them for a year first. Give them a contract to sign. Witnesses and all. Make them study philosophy and ethics for half their life. Fuck it, it’s to no avail. It’s just a sliding scale, different degrees. So slippery, a ride in an eternal swamp. A slide from darkness to darkness.
Johnny realised from Red’s expression that he wasn’t getting far with this line of talking. Forget it, he growled. A different conversation entirely. Try another day. What point are you trying to make?