“Freedom or death!” Ben James poked the air with his fork for emphasis. I smiled back at my husband as he happily ate the steaks we had grilled in our backyard. He said he wanted to build a second Citadel, one that would partner with us and be run just like ours, but on Mars. Thanks to his father’s early Bitcoin purchases, we had enough wealth to build multiple cities, and Ben James wanted it.
I looked over at my daughter, Marla, dutifully making sandwiches for her brothers before they arrived home. She was beautiful, the sun shining behind her long hair, a gentle breeze coming in through the kitchen window, her sundress billowing softly in the hot summer air, her apron accentuating her slim waist. Our eyes met, and a deep mutual understanding and recognition was exchanged. My youngest daughter, Eloise, 6, was sitting at the table doing her reading homework.
At the Fort of Ben James all the children were home-schooled, and some of us mothers would pitch in to lighten the burden, teaching other people’s children for a year or two and then taking turns.
“They say Mars is like the Wild West,” Mara said. I looked away because I knew where this conversation was going before they’d even said a word. “It’s so hard to survive, women have to be prepared to act like men. They have to do everything men do, because there’s so much to do, and because men die.”
Ben James put down his fork and raised his eyebrows, assessing her. “Perhaps those men haven’t yet figured out how to be men,” he said. “Such behavior will not be tolerated in my fortress on Mars, any more than it will be tolerated here. My women will never work for another man, and I will not allow whores in my family, or in my fortress.”
Mara had a sly look on her face. “So what do you mean, men working for men?” she said slyly. “Didn’t you work in places like this before?”
Ben James rose to his feet, his chair clattering to the floor. My husband and teenage daughter glared at each other, and I wanted to grab her arm and pull her back, tell her to stop being a rebellious, impulsive child. In the Citadel, the ruler’s word is law, and he can banish or do worse at any time.
“You’re a young, unruly woman,” he said quietly, “and you don’t understand how the world works. We have everything we need. As a family, we’re free from state tyranny, and you’re lucky enough to be where you are. Women are happiest at home cooking and working with the kids. I don’t want to hear any more of this nonsense.”
“Yes, yes, Bitcoin gives you freedom,” Mara smiled. “Without freedom, I’d rather be dead.” In the way only a teenager can, she pursed her lips, gave him a wicked smile, and returned haughtily to finish her sandwich. “While my brothers go off to buy rockets to far-away planets, I love spreading mayonnaise on bread.”
“Get out!” Ben James yelled.
“With pleasure.”
Mara walked away, satisfied, dropping the knife on her uneaten sandwich.
I sighed and looked at him sympathetically. “She will learn,” I said.
“Jeremy was here yesterday,” he said.
“Huh?” I asked, my heart starting to race.
“He wants to marry her.”
My eyes lit up with excitement. “He’ll make her submit.”
“Definitely. In a few more years, his Bitcoin holdings will be enough to build him his own little fortress. Not a city, but certainly a small town with 12 other families or a big ranch. He’ll run it very well.”
All four of my sons ran into the house at the same time: Jared, 7; Beau, 13; and 17-year-old twins Jackson and Luke.
Ben James smiled broadly and sat back down at his steak. “Finish your sandwich,” he told me.
I laughed good-naturedly, turned towards the counter with a smile and began finishing my food.
Ben James’ voice was filled with approval, “That’s a good one, boys! Never ask a woman to make something for dinner. You have to make it yourself. If she refuses, walk away. If she complains about you asking, find another woman. That’s the cardinal test of a woman’s quality.”
I handed my boys their meals and asked Luke how his day was.
He smiled at me. “There’s so much you’ll never understand,” he said fondly.
I remembered the days before the war, before anarchy, when my father was in school learning how to build a rocket that he was probably going to buy. He had no idea how a rocket worked.
But Ben James always said that building rockets would never satisfy me. My happiness was at home. I smiled at my four sons and my husband, Eloise. Those days of curiosity and problem solving were long gone. Thanks to my father-in-law’s wealth, I could be truly happy here, in this home, without the dopamine rush of the intellectual and engineering problems we solved every day.
I married Ben James to survive, as women have done since the dawn of time. He was my nurturer and protector. He taught me so much, and his passion for independence was infectious.
My eyes landed on a quote hanging in the living room: “I don’t think we’ll ever have good money again unless we take it out of the hands of governments. I mean, we can’t violently take it out of the hands of governments. We can only put in place, in clever, roundabout ways, things that governments can’t stop.”
Bitcoin. A tool that leveled the balance of power between the powerful and the dominated. A means of freedom for millions. A great uplifter.
I smiled.
The next day, when Ben James sat Marla down to tell her that she was going to marry Jeremy, I was struck by her stillness. She didn’t flinch or look at me. For a few seconds she stared blankly at the floor. Then a small smile formed on her face, and she looked Ben James straight in the eyes. “Dad.” She blinked. “You’ve always taught me so much.”
He looked surprised. “And?”
She shrugged, “That’s it. A lot has happened, but I kept it in mind.”
He looked at me with a confused look, then told her, “We will be getting married in two months, once all the wedding details are sorted out. You and your mother will sort it out.”
Marla finally looked at me, and there was a seriousness on her face I had never seen before, but I understood: she was ready.
I had been preparing for this wedding for years and finally everything was falling into place: my daughter’s honeymoon clothes were purchased and packed, her father’s dowry money was transferred to a new UTXO, and her husband and I were ready to combine funds. My daughter was wealthy, wealthy enough to own a significant amount of land.
The husband noticed the airline charge that same day: “You bought her a ticket for her honeymoon. That’s a bit pricey.”
I frowned. “I wanted them to fly in a private jet.”
“It’s okay, I should have done it. I know women don’t like money. It’s not your fault they charged you so much.”
I shrugged and remembered the first time he’d hit me. I’d spent money on a plane ticket and made plans to go see friends. He’d made it very clear that traveling alone for a woman, especially with a female friend, was bound to lead to infidelity and mischief. Later, he explained, wanting to see my mother was just as taboo. I knew that if I married Jeremy, Marla would never come round again. Even if Jeremy visited Ben James, Marla would stay home with the kids.
Two months later, everything was ready. “See you at church,” I said to Ben James. My eyes again landed on the framed quote: “A Crafty Detour.”
The boys headed off to their bachelorette party, Marla, Jared, and Eloise got into the car, and I loaded Marla’s honeymoon suitcases into the trunk. We were going to be married that night in the chapel. Marla and I smiled at each other as Ben James and our older boys drove off.
We got in the car. Two hours later, we arrived at our destination and picked up Eloise’s suitcase filled with clothes for myself and our two young children. The same 12 words were running through Mara’s mind as we raced to the waiting private jet. The pilot personally came forward to greet us, confirmed our four discounted tickets, and escorted us on board. Ten minutes later, we were in the air.
__________________________
We lived in Rockson Citadel for six years. It took Ben James two full years to find us. He soon discovered that we had fled to a small country far richer than him. There was nothing they could do to get us back. I had my own Bitcoin that he never knew about. Enough to run away and hire guards, but he couldn’t get to us. Soon I joined the prosperity of Rockson. No longer was I in a Citadel with only 50% of the population’s brainpower and only able to buy old rockets, I was in Rockson, a society that built new rockets and created innovations. I added my insatiable curiosity and joy of discovery – my brainpower – to everyone else’s, contributing to society and the rocket industry. Many female colleagues worked alongside the men, and our combined brainpower put us light years ahead of a small, backward Citadel like Ben James’. With our arsenal alone, we could wipe his city off the face of the earth before he could point his angry finger at us and bring us to justice.
Her daughter married Jason and was expecting their second child. Jason continued to work as an engineer in the oil industry, while Marla stayed home full-time with their young child, working from home and teaching physics to college students. He supported her in getting her bachelor’s degree, and he stayed home to help with the kids when needed while she was in college. Marla is currently taking online courses to get a graduate degree. They also had a huge following in art, and would paint pictures every morning and sell them for a high price. This shared passion is what first brought them together. They had dinner together every night, and whenever I wanted to stop by, they always welcomed me warmly.
By the time I remarried, Ben James had become a distant joke.
As my husband, Henry, said, “I can’t believe we knew Bitcoin would give men the power and freedom to vote with their feet, but we didn’t foresee it giving women the same power.”
Mara added: “He was like, we’re all stuck at home. he what we like what We want.”
I laughed, and Henry’s arms wrapped around me gleefully. “Our freedom means that men have to be better to be chosen by us. We have the means to escape, the power to thrive, and the power to choose who is best for us,” I added cheekily. “Men have to show more evidence of effort.”
Henry hugged me tighter. “Motivation makes us better people. To me, it seems like a positive thing for society.”
Mara smiled happily. “Give me freedom or give me death.”
This is a guest post by Ninja Grandma. The opinions expressed here are entirely Ninja Grandma’s own and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of BTC Inc or Bitcoin Magazine.
