The VMR Theory (v1.1) by Robert Frezza Read Free Book Online

first-hand on IPlixxi*, it was hard for me to disagree, although I suspect that most teams of psychologists would like to prohibit humans from reading works of a political, religious, philosophical, or fictional nature. “To ask a dumb question, why are the Macdonalds so competitive with humanity?”
    Rizvi gazed up at the ceiling. “Please, Mr. MacKay. You really should refer to the natives here as the Klo’klotixag after the principal extended clan grouping.”
    “Sure thing.” I looked at Catarina.
    “Would you two like to answer his question or should I?” Catarina asked in a sugary voice.
    Stemm and Rizvi looked at each other and hesitated. Then Stemm said, “Well, the diplomatic service favors the so-called Freudian Theory.”
    “Does that mean they want to marry their mothers, or does that mean they resent the gratuitous uplifting the Contact boys gave them?” I queried.
    “Although there is a certain animus toward the Contact/ Survey Corps, the Freudian Theory postulates a resentment based on certain physical disparities,” Stemm discoursed. “It’s, ah, somewhat personal, if you comprehend my meaning.”
    Obviously I didn’t, so Catarina elaborated. “The Macdonalds are very humanlike in most respects.”
    I nodded.
    “However, they’re not humanlike in all respects. According to anthropologists, male Macdonalds muster double-headed penises about so big.” She held up her ring finger and flexed it. “To add insult to injury, I understand they tend to fire their cannons in about ten seconds fiat.”
    A light dawned. “You’re telling me that given full disclosure and complete freedom of choice, half the female population would emigrate,” I said, dimly grasping the essential fact that the so-and-so’s had little so-and-so’s. “Precisely,” Catarina said.
    Rizvi looked discomfited, but he added one stem warning. “Mr. MacKay, although the Klo’klotixag have adopted some Confederation customs, understand that this is merely a veneer over their essentially alien nature. They have embraced some of mankind’s most despicable vices without acquiring even the thinnest patina of Terran civilization.”
    “Like Los Angeles, huh?”
    Rizvi blinked. “I shall look forward to reading your reports.” He consulted his watch. “Ambassador Meisenhelder sets certain hours in which he prefers not to be disturbed for routine business. In a minute or two we can get you in to meet him.”
    Before I could find out which soap operas he watched, Catarina asked pointedly, “How does the ambassador feel about the Klo’klotixag military buildup?”
    Rizvi and Bobby Stemm exchanged looks. “Ah, Ambassador Meisenhelder believes strongly that the current militant phase is due in no small measure to the psychic insecurity these people have been subjected to in being exposed to Confederation civilization,” Stemm said without enthusiasm.
    “To counter this,” Rizvi added, “the ambassador is passionately committed to making even the lowliest Klo’klotixfig citizen feel that he or she is the ambassador’s equal.”
    I had no doubt the ambassador could succeed. Before I could mention this, I feit another stabbing pain in my ankle. I decided to look impressed instead.
    “Shall we go in now?” Rizvi said, apparently disinclined to continue the conversation.
    Meisenhelder turned out to be a pleasant man with long hair to comb over his bald spot and a weak handshake to go with his weak chin. All in all, he seemed like a nice, sincere kind of bureaucrat, sort of a poor man’s Heinrich Himmler.
    He tapped his nose. “MacKay? MacKay? Now where have I heard that name before? Ah! Weren’t you the author of that book Coming Out of the Coffin ?”
    Catarina shook her head and smiled sweetly. “Ghostwritten.”
    The civil service has gone downhill since the courts ruled that the government can’t discriminate against the mentally challenged in hiring and promotions, thus allowing nitwits who can’t change a