What are the bad things about the Alliance? What are the good things about the Greater Deregulation? And what are things both sides agree on? -- Anon Guest
[AN: That's a very good question]
Every utopia is someone's dystopia. The opposite holds true. Someone's paradise is someone else's hell. The Alliance has laws that are meant for the equity of all its citizens, including guarantees for health, welfare, and happiness. This also means that every citizen of the Alliance is under a modicum of surveillance.
If a citizen neglects their own welfare, the law is in place to make the welfare happen. This can reach the point where the local security officers are involved.
At least the offense "Criminal Self Neglect" is not a black mark on the citizen in question. Only those guilty of the most severe crimes in the Alliance go to more than remedial therapy. The Alliance prefers to prevent crimes before anyone can come to harm.
This, of course, is anathema to anyone in Deregger Space. There, the highest value is freedom. Or so they say. The more money and power you have in Deregger Space, the more freedom you have. It also happens that the more money you have, the more power you have and the more money you get.
There's many citizens of Deregger Space who like where they are, no matter how they're treated. They say that their days are well-ordered, they don't need to worry about what they're doing every day. Their CEO is in charge of everything. They wear the corporate merchandise, watch the corporate entertainment, work the corporate hours, and believe the corporate news. It was all sorted out for them. Everything in its place and every person was also a thing.
They know who has the rights, they know where they belong, and they know what they deserve.
Put one in the other's place, and either of them would collapse for various reasons. They're very different worlds with very different philosophies. And one such place where the worlds meet displays the dissonance for any given observer.
Human Ziin was currently unaware that they had just wandered into the Deregger side of Miss Match Station. After all, the floors were just as clean and the restaurants shared similar style of names. Even the vendomats took Galactic money. They were even used to the displays automatically changing to their home tongue because of their tracker pin and comms. That was how safety worked.
The only clue that could have told Ziin that they were in the wrong place was that the clothing of the locals was just a little more lackluster. What did make Ziin wonder was that nobody present had their ID tracker pin with all the codes and indicators there for easy reading.
None of them were wearing their pronouns or names.
Ziin froze in place, accidentally in the way of Unskilled Worker Somsak and his mop.
"Beg pardon, sir," said Somsak. "I have to clean this strip in the right order."
"Sorry... er... cogniscent[1]," Ziin awkwardly danced around Somsak to a tile that had already been cleaned. "Can you tell me? Where am I?" They automatically reached for their change pocket for tips.
"Commercial concourse Under-five 304D-I, sir." Somsak glanced at Ziin's pin. "The realm your seeking is on the other side of the forbidden zone pictograms. You shall be clear to pass."
"Thankyou -er- how do I give credit?"
"Oh, the higher class drop tips in my bucket. I fish 'em out later."
"That's... not healthy. Can I hand you something? You can tuck it inside your clothes... or... something?" They flailed from an idea, since Somsak didn't have pockets in their unitard. "Tuck it into some underwear? Or a sock-- wait you don't have socks. I'm sorry. I don't feel right putting money in that bucket. It looks like a health hazard."
Somsak kept mopping according to his rote pattern. "Bless your heart, but I have a robust immune system. Haven't needed a sick day in three months, and that was a bone-biting bug that made it hard to move at all. My savings for the corporation meant I could hire palliative care for that week. Just toss it in. I'll be fine."
Ziin paused with the Quarter-Hour coin in their hand, hovering over the turbid water in the mop bucket. "I can't. I can't. I'll -ah- post up at the noodle place and buy you a meal when you get off. Then I can hand it to you. Directly."
"As you will," said Somsak. "But I'm not permitted to talk to guests when I'm off duty."
Ziin spent most of their wait quietly concocting a plan to educate these Dereggers about the freedoms they could have. One that would not start an interstellar incident.
[1] Sir and Cogniscent are agreed-upon universal terms of address and thus don't always cause upset wherever they're used.
[Photo by Galen Crout on Unsplash]
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