Purpose:
To explore the concept of sexual deviancy in a Cu’enashti emanation.
Participants:
Tarlach Tadgh, Constantine del Eden’d, Suibhne Ennis
Materials:
One professional artist’s fabristylus. The model chosen was a Monetstar IX, capable of fabricating over 5 million variations of hue.
Hypothesis:
According to the DMV 301.5 [1], mental health is broadly defined in terms of a sense of well-being, self-sufficiency, and contribution to society. A deviancy is a difference from the norm; a maladaptive deviancy is a deviancy which is exaggerated or inappropriate enough to cause a lack of mental health. Based on current theories of Cu’enashti psychology, the state of mental health will be facilitated by much different circumstances than normative for humanity. In particular, the definition of what constitutes deviancy must be reexamined. It is hypothesized that to the Cu’enashti, a deviancy which would be considered maladaptive in humans, but favorably distinguishes the subject in the eyes of the Chosen, will promote a healthy mindset.
[1] Diagnostic Manual of Variation: popular reference work in the psychological community. It posits that all mental disturbance is an exaggeration of traits found in a normative mindset; conversely, all traits become deviant when taken to extreme – trans
Procedure [Reported by Her Eminence Tara del D’myn, Matriarch of Skarsia]:
“This feud between Lady Soras and Baroness M’phell is getting ridiculous,” I grumbled as I entered the anteroom. “How come you never seem to have these problems?”
Patrick was looking at his datapad. His attention was so rapt that he almost didn’t notice me. Before I could see what he was reading, he blanked the screen and slammed the pad down on the table, looking chagrinned.
“What’s that?”
“Whirljack,” he stammered. “Oh, the datapad – that’s nothing important. What I mean is that everything I know about handling court intrigues comes from Whirljack. He learned it all while he was on tour. Roadies are a lot like courtiers. They have a pecking order. Everyone wants to get close to the talent, but if you single one out for too many favors, the others will get resentful and ostracize him or her. The worst thing is to talk down to them, or treat them as slaves. They’re paid to make you look good, so if you get on their bad side, you’re screwed.”
“I can see your point.”
“You can always tell when an artist has run afoul of the roadies because you’ll see all the dirt about that person at the top of the media push. Believe me, the crew knows everything, but if they like you, they’ll want to keep their jobs, and they won’t say a word. Jack has roadies he trusts more than some of the high-ranking officials at SSOps. Even before you extended our marriage to I and I, when it was the height of fashion to gossip about your supposed affairs with Cillian, or Driscoll, or Cüinn, no one said a word about Whirljack and the Nau’gsh Festival.”
“That’s because the Nau’gsh Festival is sacred.”
“To Dolparessans. But a lot of the road crew are offworlders. And you had better believe they were all at that festival – there isn’t a roadie in the universe who will skip a party.”
“Hmmm.”
“Anyway, I’m supposed to tell you that you’re wanted inside. Tarlach says there’s a problem.”
I shrugged.
Perhaps I should’ve been worried, but there was something about the way Patrick delivered the message – his tone of voice, facial expression, the way he held his body – that communicated to me it wasn’t any sort of emergency. It communicated to me that it was probably going to be bullshit.
When I knock on the door of Daniel’s room, I am greeted by Tarlach and Constantine. « Can we come into your room instead? » asks Tarlach. « We’d rather have the privacy. »
I motion him inside. « It seems pointless. You know damn well that everyone will just access the memories in your branch. »
« I’m here in the capacity of your lawyer, » says Constantine.
« Ross is my lawyer. »
« Constantine was specifically assigned to this case, » says Tarlach.
« I’m qualified, » says Constantine. « You know that. Why don’t we all have a seat? »
« Why the hell do I need a lawyer? »
« It’s, ah, hard to say this, » says Tarlach, « but you’re in very serious violation of professional ethics. »
« WHAT? »
I stand and go looking for a drink. Unfortunately, since the room is arranged in the manner it was when I was seventeen, the bar had not yet been installed.
« I’m an autocrat, » I protest. « A fucking dictator. There are no professional ethics. I can decapitate the people who displease me and mount their heads on pikes in front of my palace, if I feel like it. »
« Professional ethics, » says Tarlach, « as a sex researcher. »
« I’m not a sex researcher. I do research in xenobotany and pharmacology. There are certain ethical codes for pharmacological research, but as far as I know, I haven’t broken any of them. »
« The research in which you’re currently engaged is legally categorized as sex research, » says Constantine.
« It’s botanical research. There’s no code of conduct for cross-pollination experiments. »
« You’re prevaricating, » Constantine presses. « The Cu’endhari can’t be considered um, garden-variety plants and you know it. We’re a sentient form of life. You can’t conduct sex research on us and not consider the psychological ramifications. »
« Even if I concede the point, how is what we’re doing unethical? Everyone is consenting. Everyone seems to be enjoying it. »
Tarlach clears his throat. « You’re in violation of two major principles of sex research – well, of any kind of psychological research in general. First, the confidentiality principle. All your research subjects are clearly named. »
« Lord love a dobergator, Tarlach. What about your research? You use personal examples all the time in your publications. »
« It’s not unethical to use yourself as an experimental subject. It may be unwise, since the experiment can be compromised by a lack of objectivity, but there’s nothing morally wrong about it. I make a point of disclosing carefully when I’m reporting personal data, noting that my involvement may color the findings. »
« Everybody knows who you are. Everybody knows that Cu’enashti are biologically programmed to be unswervingly faithful to their mates. So when you self-report, everybody knows that it’s me you’re fucking. How is that confidential? »
« An interesting point, » says Constantine. « Human law would say that he hasn’t actually disclosed anything. But you’re correct in stating that what, in a human case, would be mere assumption, in a Cu’enashti case would be documented fact. However, there’s no precedent established. »
« The second issue is more problematic, » says Tarlach. « You can’t conduct sex research on someone with whom you’re in a relationship. »
« You’re joking. People experiment in the bedroom all the time. »
« But they don’t try to publish it in Xenobotanical Notes, » says Constantine.
« Look, these experiments were Ash’s idea. Is there any one of you who actually objects to the experimentation, or to having your names attached to it? »
« That isn’t the point, » says Constantine. « We’re just trying to protect you from future legal issues. »
« And to protect your reputation as a scientist, » Tarlach adds.
« What if I don’t submit it to a juried publication? I can self-publish the research in the same way I had my visions published. »
« You’re recognized as the galaxy’s greatest expert on Cu’endhari biology, » Tarlach replies, shaking his head. « Anything you said would still carry the weight of your professional reputation. »
« Fine. That’s it. I’ll discontinue the research. »
There is a frantic knocking at the door. When I open it, a blast of cold air hits my face. It’s Tommy, shivering and somewhat green.
« What the fuck are you guys doing? » he asks. « All of a sudden the temperature dropped, and we’re all getting stomach cramps. »
« I don’t think Ash approves, » I remark, turning to Tarlach. « Let me think. The problem I’m seeing here is that very few Cu’enashti would trust anyone other than their Chosen to do sex research on them. The codes you’re referring to were written for humans. »
« Good point, » says Constantine.
« You know, when research involving human subjects is done, it has to be approved by a board of ethics. Every major university and research facility has one. »
« Maybe we need a Cu’enashti board of ethics, » muses Tarlach. « Who would be on it? »
« I’d say we need a major research figure, a legal expert, and a representative of the government. I think the three of us would do. »
« There are no legal objections to that, » says Constantine.
« All right. We’ll call ourselves the Council for Cu’enashti Psychological Research. Now as for a code of conduct…»
I open the first drawer in my dresser. I remembered correctly – there is a notepad, containing most of the schoolwork from my teenage years. I gesture over the screen to activate the voice transcription function, and dictate the following: « Code of Conduct for Cu’enashti psychological research. Item 1: All research and the dissemination of research findings must be conducted in such a manner as to cause no physical, psychological, material or social harm to the participants. Item 2: The purpose and method of all research must be clearly disclosed to all participants. Item 3: participation in all research is under informed consent. Item 4: Confidentiality must be maintained unless the research participants agree to a waiver. Item 5: No research will ever be conducted in such a way as to compromise the subjects’ n’aashet n’aaverti. »
« I’d add an Item 6, » says Constantine. « All research shall be approved and reviewed by the CCPR, and include a therapeutic debriefing session for the participants. »
« Sounds good, » says Tarlach. « That should cover our rootbeds. »
« I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, but it’s a lot warmer now, » says Tommy.
« If you wouldn’t mind, » sniffs Tarlach, « we’re having a confidential board meeting. »
Tommy gives him a dirty look, but closes the door behind him.
« What made you think of this anyway? » I ask.
Tarlach shoots a wary glance to Constantine before replying, « I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to say. »
« It’s ok, » says Constantine. « I came to Tarlach for some therapy, and the experiments came up as a topic of conversation. »
« Therapy? Why do you need therapy? You’re completely normal. »
Tarlach winces as Constantine puts his head on the desk.
« That’s the problem, » Constantine says quietly.
« Normal is a problem? »
« You told Axel that my juice was almost flavorless. »
« I did? »
« Rand documented it, » says Tarlach. « It’s in his secret memoir of the foundation of Shambhala. »
« Ugh, maybe I did say something like that. I was under a lot of stress at the time. Ash had just created a new tree behind my back, and we narrowly escaped starting the worst war humanity has ever known. »
« It isn’t just that, » says Constantine, passing me his trading card. « Look at what it says under sexual prowess and kinks. »
It says: “Needs work in this area.”
« That’s not true! You were fine in bed. »
« Fine, » murmurs Constantine, clearly damned by faint praise.
« I mean there was nothing wrong with your performance. »
« But there was nothing right, was there? My card is still almost gray. Nothing about me stands out. My juice is flavorless. So I came to Tarlach for advice on how to develop some kinks. »
« You’re asking the wrong person. »
« Why? » asks Tarlach, looking a bit insulted. « My professional credentials are sterling. »
« You’re healthy. You were created to be healthy. What do you know about kinks? »
« People tell me their kinks all the time, » he protests.
« Do you think I would settle for some warmed-over, reused kink? »
Tarlach drops his gaze, disheartened.
« Look, Constantine, if you want something unusual, something unique to you, you have to ask someone creative. Like Driscoll or Davy. »
« Actually, » says Tarlach, « our experimental partner is supposed to be Suibhne. »
« That might be a little bit too creative. »
« It’s all right, » says Constantine. « I’m willing to try something radical. »
« I can’t advise it, » says Tarlach. « Once you bring Suibhne in, anything could happen. »
But Constantine is determined. « I’m willing to take that risk, » he says.
« I don’t think I should be involved, » says Tarlach.
« Harm-reduction, » I insert. « Constantine is going to try it anyways. It will be better if he has a licensed psychotherapist present to perform damage control. »
I open the door into Daniel’s room, yelling, « Hey Suibhne, come in here! »
I gaze into a sea of blue puppy-eyes; Suibhne bounds into the air excitedly while the others sag, as though a lottery number had been called.
« So this was your room when you were a child? Whoa! It’s so fluffy and pink, » says Suibhne, hopping onto the bed.
« Why do you think I had it redecorated? It isn’t exactly my idiom. »
« Suibhne, we were hoping that you could…» Tarlach begins.
« Pillow fight! » shouts Suibhne, grabbing one of the bolsters from the bed and whapping Constantine over the head.
« I was hoping that you would help me to find my inner pervert, » says Constantine, raising his arms to defend himself from another blow.
« Have you looked in here? » says Suibhne, jerking open a dresser drawer. He pulls out a pair of my underpants and proffers them.
« So you like underwear? » asks Tarlach, typing furiously into a datapad.
« No, » Suibhne replies. « Do I look like Cillian? But if you lose something, it’s good to check all the drawers first. »
« It isn’t a matter of losing it. It’s more a matter of never having it in the first place, » says Constantine.
« That’s absolutely not true, » says Tarlach. « You’ve got it in you. It’s just a buried gem, waiting to be uncovered. »
Suibhne looks up suddenly from rooting through the drawers. « That’s gross, » he says. « Like a gallstone or something. Maybe you should have it removed. »
« It’s a metaphor, » replies Tarlach, annoyed.
« Maybe Tara is into genital modification, » says Suibhne. « There was something on the media push about a guy who had his penis split in half. »
« Um, » I sputter. « It would only be interesting if both halves worked. »
« This is just depressing me even more, » says Constantine. « Suibhne is so colorful, and I’m so blah. »
« Colorful? » says Suibhne. « You’re the same color as I am, more or less. I guess my hair is more colorful, » he decides, tossing his red ponytail. « But if you want to be colorful, why not take this? Suibhne grabs a fabristylus out of the drawer. »
« I forgot I had that. I gave up on trying to draw. I tried to make a birthday card for my uncle once, and he said I had no talent. »
« That’s appalling, » says Tarlach, in such an angry voice it startles me.
« It’s no big deal. »
« It is, » he objects. « That miserable bastard crushed your artistic impulse and rejected your attempt at affection. »
« That’s hardly news. Also he’s dead. Also, Patrick murdered him. So I’d say we’re even. »
« I’ll bet if you drew something, Daniel would put it on the stasisstorer in his apartment, » says Suibhne.
« I don’t have any paper. I never really liked drawing on the datapad – I guess I’m like Driscoll. I like physical media. »
« Then draw on Constantine, » says Suibhne. « He wanted to be colorful. »
« That was a metaphor, too, » grumbles Tarlach.
« Come on, » says Suibhne. « If you will, I will. »
« You’re being ridiculous, » says Tarlach.
But there is something in Constantine’s expression that intrigues me. « He’s not being ridiculous, is he? You like the idea that I would mark you. Even if I drew something stupid…»
« Don’t, » says Tarlach. « It will never come off. »
I shoot him a concerned glance.
« Think about it, » he continues. If the Chosen marks one of us in the pleroma, it will be permanent. »
Constantine shrugs. « Why would I want to remove it? » he asks.
« Because I can’t draw better than a stick figure. I’d feel terrible about ruining your beautiful body. »
« It’ll be fine, » says Suibhne. « It’s not like outside, when you have to make your hands do what your mind sees. In here, if you can picture it, you can draw it. We’ll all do it. And you’ll think that’s really sexy that everyone marked Constantine, ‘cause you like sluts. »
« That’s…» Tarlach begins.
« All right. Take your shirt off. I know this is going to be really corny and horrible, but…»
I draw. It feels easy, natural, the stylus responding to my desire to change colors in enormously subtle ways, without my having to adjust the pigment fabrication setting. It isn’t corny and horrible at all. It looks like some kind of medieval tapestry.
« A unicorn, » says Tarlach. « Symbol of uniqueness and purity. »
« Me next, » says Suibhne.
With a few deft strokes across Constantine’s torso, he paints an enormously elaborate scene of a storm-tossed schooner, the captain valiantly facing the wind in full-dress regalia. Except that the captain is a penguin.
Suibhne hands the pen to Tarlach. « I don’t know what to draw, » he says, startled.
« Now who’s colorless? » I taunt. « Put something there that symbolizes you. »
In the background behind the unicorn, Tarlach draws an obelisk.
« That’s phallic, » I comment.
« He’s lucky it wasn’t a banana, » says Tarlach. « Although I must admit that I feel closer to him now, a bit of a sense of ownership. I fear I might have overstepped the therapist-client relationship. »
« There’s nothing about that in the code of conduct. In fact, I think it will help him enormously if you fuck him. It won’t violate your n’aashet n’aaverti, as long as I get to watch. »
Data:
Constantine’s self-reported happiness index increased by 59%. In addition, his trading card altered to become decorated with the patterns covering his body. The text under “Sexual prowess and kinks” altered to read “Everybody’s bitch.” Finally, average time between penetration and ejaculation increased by 4 minutes and 23 seconds.
Results:
Three days later, Constantine emanated. “I wanted to show you the end result,” he said.
At first, I saw nothing unusual. Then he unbuttoned his shirt. The designs extended to the collar and down the sleeves. “It’s not for everyone to see,” he said. “It’s for you.”
He stripped. “Nice. You should emanate more often. You know, Harsh suggested you for a sparring partner.”
“If you’re asking whether I’d let you beat me up, sure thing.”
I circled him, surveying the work. “I’m amazed at how well all the different designs fit together.”
“I have Quennel to thank for that. Instead of drawing his own symbol, he filled in between, balancing and harmonizing the others.”
“Who did the butt?” I asked.
“Can’t you guess from the symbolism?”
“Well, the wolf on the left is obviously by Cillian.”
“He says that the next time you come into the pleroma, I owe him.”
“It doesn’t bother you that he’s your brother?”
“Actually, it’s kind of exciting, seeing the way you react to Owen and Lugh.”
“Who did the eagle on the right? It’s gorgeous.”
“It’s not an eagle – it’s a phoenix. See the flames? And it’s thematically symmetrical. My other brother did it.”
“Ross did that?”
Constantine nodded. “He says that I owe him, too.”
Debriefing:
Tarlach: I feel much better now that we’ve established a professional organization and a Code of Conduct. I’m looking forward to more private meetings with Tara and Constantine.
Tara: It’s amazing what I’ll put up with to get laid.
Constantine: I’m so much more confident and popular now that I’ve become a deviant. I think the experiment was a success.
Suibhne: I’m disappointed. I wasn’t pollinated, and I thought that was the whole point of these experiments. Also, Cillian owes me big time for stealing those panties for him.
Conclusion:
Inducement of a sexual deviancy produced a considerable increase in happiness and potency in the subject. As the trading card is a representation of status amongst the emanations of Ashtara, with more flamboyant cards indicating higher position, the sexual deviancy proved to markedly increase the subject’s social functioning as well. An unexpected but important insight was that the ethical codes of conduct for human psychologists and psychological researchers are inappropriate for the Cu’enashti. To address this need, a professional organization, the Council for Cu’enashti Psychological Research, was formed. One of its first acts was to establish an appropriate code of conduct for professionals in the field. The board is currently at work on developing licensure examinations.
Future Investigation:
The body modification fetish is considered a mild deviancy in humans when it does not involve heretical use of cybridization implants. Tattooing and piercing are not considered deviant at all when divorced from sexual gratification. The effects of more serious deviancies are yet to be explored.