Songs of the Dancing Gods by Jack L. Chalker Page B

thing is, ‘beauty’ is nearly impossible to define, even for a bureaucrat. Some women whose looks are beyond question fall under that compulsion, but most do not. On the other hand, most women like to think that they are under that compulsion, and even those who don’t also tend to follow it, including many who shouldn’t.”
    “Huh?”
    “Otherwise, you’re sort of going around advertising that you think you’re plain or ugly,” she explained. “And, frankly, many women don’t really have the body for it. They need some well-placed clothing to look their best—but most won’t, anyway.”
    “And that’s every place?”
    “Oh, there are lots of places where the rule has no practical effect—cold climates, high places, places with lots of nasty insects or cutting vegetation. In those places, you undress for formal occasions! But in this broad region, which covers much of Husaquahr, it’s subtropical or downright tropical, and that’s the way things are.”
    “Man! That’s still weird! It almost seems like you all are puttin’ up ads sayin’, ‘Come and get me.’ “
    “It’s not that bad, mostly because almost everybody does it. It’s normal, and whatever’s normal, no matter how different or strange, people get used to and take for granted in a hurry. It’s sort of like some ancient cultures in your own world, where a woman who was overdressed and usually veiled was a prostitute, since the clothing was used to hide her identity and maybe titillate the customers. Most original tropical cultures wore few clothes unless the missionaries or conquerors got to them. And, like them, there’s the sad fact of being in a world without science or machines governed by Rules that keep things as they are.”
    “Yeah, this place could stand some fans and some television.”
    “That’s not exactly what I meant. You’re lucky to be his son and not his daughter here. Unless a woman has magical powers, or is of royal blood, she usually doesn’t count for much here. For most folks here, life is short and hard. You need a lot of babies here, because most babies die before they get a chance to grow up. Most girls are already married and having kids by age thirteen or fourteen. Women get no education and are mostly wives and laborers in homes and fields. It’s mostly that way on Earth, too, even now, although those who live in countries where women have some freedom like yours forget that. Of course, most of the men don’t get educated here, either. Here, some sort of trade for them, however menial, is all-important.”
    “You got educated,” he noted.
    “I was of royal blood. The Rules are different. And, with my parents murdered, I was hustled off to Earth for protection by Ruddygore. I had the best education, the best schools, the best things money could buy. It was only by happy chance that I could marry for love rather than politics.”
    “Yeah? So what did it get you? You can’t remember half the schoolin’ you got—you keep sayin’ how more ‘n’ more just slips away, and you’re goin’ around this place barefoot and close to bare-ass naked, dancin’ for coins thrown by horny geeks.”
    She shrugged. “I think about that sometimes, but, the fact is, I think most street dancers dream of being princesses or queens, and most princesses or queens find the life so boring and so meaningless they fantasize about being dancers. Right now I’m having more fun than I ever did the other way. It might not be the life I’d pick, but it’s better than the one I had.”
    “Yeah, for now,” the boy responded sagely. “But, sooner or later, this life’s gonna go sour, and there ain’t gonna be no way for you to go back to bein’ queen again. One of these days you’re gonna wake up and suddenly see that you ain’t slummin’, you ain’t playin’ poor, that’s what you are.”
    Joe stirred. “Huh? Wuzzit?” He groaned, rolled over, tried to sit up, made it on the second attempt, and opened his