Mars Needs Women

Chapter 9 - The Martian Bride Network

If the good people of Olympus Cooperative could look after each other, then why not the brides? Already, eighty-nine of the hundred gals, by my count, signed up on the Martian Bride Network site, and I tell you what, they were chatting back and forth like a blackbird flock.

Not that men don't chat — they do. But for some, it's like the tenth circle of hell. My Pa, for instance. Walt will chat some, but there were limits before his eyes glazed over.

Kiran brought us a basket of apples from his orchard, and oh, they were good — nothing like fresh from the tree. Like most crops 'round here, the trees were genetically modified for Mars conditions, but fortunately, they kept the taste. He even brought some less-than-perfect apples for the chickens' pecking pleasure.

After dinner, Riya and Kiran went outside to stargaze — at least, that's what they said. Given that clouds were rolling in, I suspected the stars were in each other's eyes. But I was happy for them.

That gave me some time to check in with the Martian Bride Network again. The gals have been busy catching up.

Looking through the posts, I came to some conclusions. Most of the gals, maybe all, signed up for the Mars bride program to get away from really bad stuff back on Earth, and not to hook a husband. But unlike me, they had read the fine print, and the arranged marriages were just the price of safety. Can't say I blamed them for that. Turned out, though, there were good men on Mars, and many gals were happy with the husbands picked for them.

Also, it wasn't cheap to send us women here. The Mars Council paid part of the cost, because, well, Mars needed women, but each husband also paid a hefty sum for their bride. And in my experience, shady dealings went with big money like ice cream with pie, only not near as tasty. When you boiled it all down, us women were sold like livestock.

That got me wondering, what husband had they had picked for me? But I skedaddled before finding out, which was probably lucky for whatever man that would've gotten stuck with me. Like Pa said, I was a difficult woman. Might as well own it.

Apparently, Riya told the gals about my adventures.

Janus: Mavis, did you really run away? What did the Broker think?

Mavis: Didn't much like it the first time I tried. Locked me in my room, so in the middle of the night, I snuck out the window and crawled down on a sheet.

Elena: Badass!

Mavis: Just hard-headed. Didn't want to get hitched.

Elena: Then who is this Walt you're living with?

Mavis: My not-husband. Just a business partner. We got a land claim near Olympus Mons. And chickens. We got chickens.

Janus: Riya told us what you did for her.

Elena: Total badass! Heard you taught her prick husband a lesson.

Mavis: Damn right. Mess with the Martian brides, and you get arse whupped!

Spent the next hour catching up with the gals while Riya was outside doing who-knows-what with Kiran. I was the only one who didn't get married, which set me up for good-natured ribbing. Some didn't believe Walt and I had no romantic complications — but to be honest, not sure I believed it, either.

It wasn't all happy chat, though. Some gals were unhappy with their matches, even scared. But we were there to support each other. One thing I learned from history class was that when there were other options available, women left bad marriages.