Page 52 of My Tiny Giant
“Hold on a minute.” I waved both hands at him. “Why are there children in the brothel?”
His eyebrows slid together in a frown. “Would you please not call the entertainment unit a ‘brothel?’ Where did you even get that idea?”
“From some comments I’ve heard.” Agan hadn’t explicitly contradicted that either. “You’ve admitted yourself that sex is happening there.”
“Doesn’t sex happen everywhere? Or is your Army entirely celibate?”
“No, but our Army doesn’t facilitate sex by creating special units for that purpose. In fact, sex for money is illegal—”
“Emma. Stop right there.” He raised both hands in the air. “I never said anything about sex being traded for money in our entertainment units.”
“What is it traded for then?” I asked, though the tightness in my chest had loosened at his words already.
“Nothing. For some mutual affection, maybe? If a woman from the unit and a warrior on leave want to have sex, no one would stop them, but sex is not a job requirement for the females working there.”
“It’s not?” It truly was a relief to hear that, especially for the sake of the women and children living in the units.
“You assumed that sex is a necessary part for men’s entertainment, didn’t you?”
“Well...” Most nations had businesses catering to sexual pleasure in some form. Here, on Neron, I’d seen “spas” in the mall where sexual pleasure was paid for by the hour, and it was delivered by special machine pods.
Regardless, I felt stupid for my assumptions about the Ravil entertainment units and remorseful for jumping to conclusions too quickly.
“I’m sorry. You’re right, I’ve judged too fast. I really don’t know much about Ravil women or about the way of life of those who escaped Tragul.”
He placed a hand on my thigh.
“To be honest, I don’t know that much about women, either. Other than my mother when I was very young, I’ve never shared a home with a female. I’ve met some women refugees at our Army Base on Tragul, and I have a few female friends at the entertainment unit here, but that’s about it.”
“Just friends? ” I couldn’t help clarifying.
He slid a glance my way, as if gauging my reaction in advance. “A few of them used to be more than friends, at some point in the past.”
“Do you have someone special at the unit, right now?” I didn’t care about his past, but it felt important to me to know about his present.
“No.” Warmth melted the green of his eyes directed at me. “The special one is right here.”
Now, my face warmed too, and I dropped my gaze in my lap, mumbling, “Smooth, Agan. And you said you suck at talking.”
He didn’t reply. I felt his stare on me but didn’t dare to meet his eyes again, afraid the sparks would fly. What if the sparks caught fire? What would happen then?
“Just, um...tell me more about Ravil women,” I asked, unable to stand the silent tension any longer.
He cleared his throat.
“Because of war,” he started, his voice a little deeper than normal, “Ravil men and women have been living mostly separately. Women and children are evacuated from the danger zones in the country. They then spend their lives in secure, guarded facilities deep inside Ravie or off planet—including the entertainment units at our army bases—while their husbands and fathers stay on Tragul and fight fescods .”
“Do the husbands and wives ever get to see each other?”
“Whenever the married men get leave from their duties on Tragul, they travel in-land, to see their families. These living arrangements have been caused by necessity. They contradict Ravil traditions. Historically, Ravils lived in close communities, raising families together. A husband and a wife slept in the same bed, every night.” Wistfulness filled his voice. “The war has broken many family ties, but the need to have a life partner and companion is in Ravils’ blood. That’s how the entertainment units came to be. They give us the sense of coming home since most of us don’t have real homes anymore. They remind us that we belong. And they provide Ravil warriors with female company, which we all crave after a long time spent in the jungle. That doesn’t mean sex, necessarily. Sometimes, just hearing a woman’s voice when she sings or talks reminds us what we’re fighting for.”
I understood the longing. I’d been spending my life on transport ships and space stations, so far away from my own home world and my parents. “Visiting the units gives you the sense of home and family. It takes you off the battlefields for a while.”
“Physically and mentally.” He nodded. “When on leave, a warrior would get a room on the male side of the unit, home-cooked meals, and the pleasure of female company in common areas. The women who work in the unit are required to attend communal dinners and celebrations. Their job is to sing, dance or do whatever else they like doing—many are talented artists and craftswomen. They mingle with men, have conversations. Some end up dating, but that is not a part of their job.”
“Do you visit the units often?”
“I used to. Whenever I had off-planet leave, I’d go to the one here.”