“Demarcation mate, that’s the problem.” said the official unhelpfully. “You’re delivering these here supplies, but I can’t let you through unless it’s ok’ ed by the Mining Workers Committee. We’re in dispute with the management at the moment, and I can’t let you through.”
“But dear chap,” said Rackham, “We’re not involved with the Ariadne’s trade: we’re just passengers killing a few days till it takes us on our way again.” He commenced a rambling, and slightly amusing story of GeCoDex’s inefficiency, and their consequent adventures.
The official seemed unconvinced, then one of his mates perked up.
“Hey, you’re that bloke in them ‘Confessions’ vids aren’t you?” he said. “Go on. It’s you isn’t it.” He looked round at his mates. “It’s him, isn’t it?”
“Ah… Come again?” asked Rackham.
“Go on it’s you. Used a stage name did you?; can’t blame you. big Porno star and all.”
“Porno star?” asked Zola.
“Yes Miss,” replied the official. “Confessions of Public Schoolboy? Confessions of a Fitness Instructor? Ah……” he paused. “Sorry Miss, you’re a well, girl. Big hits on the Gay scene, you probably missed ’em.”
“But we love ‘em, don’t we boys?” he nudged his two mates.
A light bulb lit in Vic’s head; she had vaguely heard of them, back in her marine days.
“But Jimmy,” she smiled. “You never told us this.”
“Urhur, Urhur.” One of the officials suppressed a snicker.
“But I…Ah. That is….” For once Rackham was speechless.
“You can go through Sir, and your friends. Cult Porno star like you.” said the first official.
“But could you sign this? It’s for my husband……”