Trixie randomly decided to walk to work, afterall, it was positioned very close to her home. She appreciated the Governor’s warning about the surveillance prevalent in all directions. The surveillance is exactly what protected her. Structural, logical law and order protected those who followed the laws no matter how much the unhinged tried to press their cases at innocents. For some of the citizens, they clearly had very hateful feelings towards transplants. The Governor and Miss Mayor had advised that because the Jens were abiding by Gliese’s laws and followed the rules for refugee safety, they were protected. However, they should still take precautions for persons with extremist views as it took patterned documentation if a serious defense needed to be built against serious threats of bodily harm or invasion. Trixie found herself baffled that extremist views even happened with all the civilizational progress, even after years here.
She had been briefed on the few radical groups and specifically the ones who decided they hated angels and demons. The Jens had not met any fellow demon arrivals from their galaxy yet, but the random threats against angels were definitely there. It wasn’t continuous enough to take up legally yet, and knowing the government was aware of her comings and goings helped Trixie feel hopeful that no one would risk anything crazy against her without consequence. Beyond that, she had identified a pattern. Cowards who risked their own lives for the sake of harming others in broad daylight were the same ones who cried pitifully at the slightest retaliation. Trixie confronted every situation she needed to, and that she was supposed to- with no fear. Trixie was never a coward.
Trixie wondered if some of what she suffered contributed to her ability to experience such excellent decision making. Some of those who tried to lash out at her had not truly lost everything like she had, or never had to worry if their life was not going to see tomorrow. They did not even need to operate from a place of logic because their entitlement and opportunities were so prevalent. If she ever did become a parent, she would make sure to teach her child that how they operated amongst others was one of the most important logistics. She did not want anyone to ever experience what she had, nor any future child, but she did realize that teaching strong ethics early was important, especially in how she had helped shape Oximon over the years. It did not mean social interaction was mandatory or due outside of paid settings, but it did mean that every public interaction should be conducted with integrity and the recognition of public documentation. The structures in place were here to protect and keep society organized. At least the structures in Gliese.. Perhaps she could not argue the same case for what had become of the law in her own galaxy. Sometimes the attempt to figure things out as a culture or a globe went terribly wrong, and she was still appreciative for how right it had gone in Gliese.
One of the surveillance devices flashed images throughout the day, often altering to show the viewer’s loved ones as means of teaching the community how to act right. The tech already allowed for self protection in some fun ways. Trixie was able to switch around the onslaught of others and herself in an image as soon as it was recorded, and that image would be transferred to the people who came at her. In one situation, it was a group trying to run her off the road. In another case, the protesters against angels had protests against them. For those glaring at her holding weapons, it was others glaring at them with weapons instead.
She did not switch it every time, just sometimes. The image switch she did recently was sent to them of her running them off the road. It was almost like an automated karma visual. Except, Trixie sighed to herself, even the visual karma wasn’t true karma. Her job wasn’t to contract others’ karma though, it was to output good where her good was valued, receive that good in return, then dodge and weave away from anyone trying to project the consequences of their own behaviors onto her. She was responsible for what she could control, and how she treated that environment in her stewardship- and she did a damn good job.
This is where Trixie knew extreme patience was the most powerful skill at the end of the day. A planet of advanced tech and survival had to bear the poor behavior of those who would conduct stubborn disorder for far longer than a short 50-100 year duration. Being calm her whole short life was enough to keep the risky persons away, most of the time.
“Good to see you always on time, Miss Jen” Mr. Moten greeted with his normal and very contained professionalism. His office was right in front of her room, so she passed by on her way in often.
“Oximon is not here today,” Trixie said back to him, as she glanced through the digital screen for those of the tenants who had arrived to her division.
“I believe he is attending a celebration with his boyfriend,” Mr. Moten replied.
“He is going to get his heart broken!” Trixie sighed with exasperation, “You know if I were his parent, I would not allow him to date until he is legally an adult.” Trixie leaned against the door, and Mr. Moten raised his eyebrows slightly at the engagement. “He could date for and marry his man AFTER he gets some of his own life in his control. Especially here where he has all the time in the world! Developing children should have their parents invested in them and protecting them, and when they rush into things like this where they don’t even know what they are doing they get hurt.”
Mr. Moten leaned forward with his elbows on the desk, wrapping his hands together, “Historically, it could be worse than just a youth’s heartbreak, if we want to put things in a positive light.”
“If there are not parents invested it goes bad no matter what,” Trixie was feeling very passionate about the direction she had set Oximon’s life and she did not want him to suffer too early.
Mr. Moten seemed to think for a moment, then he spoke, “There are cultures in history where girls truly believed they were no more than cattle.. Where girls were told they would either be one of many polygamous wives, or told they would have to be in a polygamous contract in some mysterious afterlife to be worth anything. Those systems still have parents. They often drive the women to insanity, and create violent enforcement from those same women. They make sure to break every girl from birth. Even if the polygamous servitude story is for some next life, they keep their people devaluing themselves from childhood- chasing something that is not even in the present reality. Girls in such systems are not even allowed to have a normal, nuclear family story in their subconscious. Children are systematically invaded on their bodily functions in this culture with more malice than even Hell itself. Now imagine Oximon in that kind of system, being told he has to own women when it isn’t even who he is..”
Trixie was startled by Mr. Moten. She did not expect it to get dark like that. “Well good thing he was never born in that.. And me neither honestly that sounds psychotic..” she paused. “I guess where I came from, it was starting to lean in that direction. The value of women went down as the need for survival went up.”
“And the women who had power who went only for themselves at the expense of others as that devaluation happened, they beat or raped other women and children- just like men, to ensure their position..” Mr. Moten added, “..where I came from too.”
Trixie looked at him skeptically, “You’re from Gliese, Mr. Moten” she knew for a fact evolution had been VERY nice here going decades back.
Mr. Moten straightened his posture, “I.. I might have had a family myself similar to what Oximon experienced.” He seemed unsettled. Trixie decided not to press him, but something about the way he had answered was off.
“You never criticized me when I was overweight once Mr. Moten,” Trixie switched the subject, deciding to complement his precision instead as the air had become too tense. “Everyone here, even the jerks are in great health and you never treated me like I was less.”
“Weight is just a metric- yes it affects life and death but, you were the resilient person you were then as you are now. It doesn’t change the amazing person you were, and are Miss Jen.”
She smiled at him. He was always so careful with his words. Except that speal about history, that threw her off, but it helped her feel more patient about Oximon. Oximon was almost 18 anyways, she just really did not want him to get hurt. She wanted him to find out what he loved about life, and then have a big fabulous wedding as a grown adult- and date after childhood. Things could certainly be worse though, as Mr. Moten had pointed out.
“Well, I appreciated it,” Trixie said, “It feels like you know me well with how you act around me. I’ll see you around Mr. Moten..” her eyes glanced down at his badge. His badge had always been a bit strange. It never said “Mr. Moten” or even a full name and a surname. It just said “Mot.” Maybe she would ask about that later.
She head off to her department as Mr. Moten rose from his desk.
Of course I know who you are…Trixie. Mot thought to himself.