This is Chapter 3 of The Universal Good Deal, you may want to start at the beginning or go back to Chapter 3.

This president, to whom Barrow said he wished to be taken, was traditionally a wealthy male selected from a small cadre of oligarchs within this particular Martian tribe. However, at the time the Aliens discovered Earth, the position was held by an unlikely female named Ursula Welles. That she was a woman was uncommon enough; but the kind of woman she was—it was unheard of among the Martians.

There can be no doubt that she was a cold-blooded and most shameless profligate.¹ In the midst of tense talks, she once famously said to an angry (and much younger) potentate, 'If you want to make war, go and do it by yourself in the corner. I want to go find one of those little prostitutes you all are so famous for.'² In my view this was a sound policy, but at the time, it made her the subject of widespread criticism. However, none of this is important.

What is important is that she was unperturbed by the criticism. This aspect of her personality is perhaps most clearly revealed in the remarkable story of how she came to hold the office. Prior to her election as president, Welles was what was known as a homemaker—an insalubrious role in wealthier Martian societies where an adult (usually female) withdrew from society and consecrated herself to the service of her offspring. Welles had four of these, and in keeping with her sacred vows, she spent the most healthy and vigorous years of her adult life attending to their wants.

As children, the Martians were told that they could become anything they liked, but when they grew up, and were allowed to exercise this power, they often became indifferent to it.³ Frequently they failed to do anything very interesting at all. Welles fought this indifference even as she saw it grow in her own children. She intentionally prepared foul-tasting food, and abandoned her children in distant locations. Often, she hid in a closet all day, forcing the children to care for themselves. Occasionally, she surprised them by introducing wild animals into their sleeping quarters.

In all of this, Welles watched her children, waiting with each new gambit for them to catch on. I think she really did hope that they would try to turn the tables on her, and see ahead of her in the game. Sadly, her children were not even aware that they were playing a game. This was the worst blow for Welles. She said she was toughening them up, and in so doing, Welles discovered the tougher qualities of her own heart, which contributed to obtain her such renown in the savage combat of politics, but likely were not helpful with children.⁴

She was often called most impenetrably taciturn.⁵ But it is known that her personality was at great odds with her physical presence. For, you see, Welles loved to dance. Dancing was the only time Welles revealed her feelings. It was also how she met the man who became the love of her life. They met at a tango class, and were married in a ballroom. And on the foundation of dancing, they built their relationship.

Welles was unquestionably the better dancer. Everyone who saw her said that she was the most graceful human being they had ever laid eyes on. She had a gliding movement, and few could tread as lightly as her.⁶ This was surprising because the Martians liked their dancers, especially those who were female, to be lithe and thin, even to a point that might be described as boyish. Welles was a big woman. She had broad shoulders, a spongy bosom,⁷ and solid hips, but moved like a ribbon through the air.

Repulsed by the adult persons she saw emerging from her children, Welles said to her husband one night while they danced, 'I'm going to go away for a while.'

He could only ask for how long.

'I don't know, some years or more.'

He reminded her of the children as she came back to him from a leap.

'I am not going to sit down all my life to love these fools. I need to move.'⁸

By the end of the dance, it was all decided and they parted ways when they left the dancefloor.

'Do not cut me when I come back,'⁹ she said to her husband.

He nodded, but could not speak for the tears.

No one knows where Welles went or what she did for two years. She next appears in the historical record as a darkhorse candidate in the presidential election that placed her in that high office I mentioned.

Democratic elections in Martian society frequently came down to spending money, something they euphemistically called free speech.¹⁰ Welles, and the party whose candidate she was, did not have as much money as their opponents. But she was under no illusions regarding the nature of democracy among the Martians. And so it was, that, in the week before the election she was undoubtedly going to lose, her campaign received a large envelope decorated in crayon with malicious little hearts.

The envelope contained a letter demanding that she abandon her campaign, and abdicate her position as a nominee. The envelope also contained a number of photographs of Welles copulating with as many as three partners simultaneously in an array of acrobatic positions. But scenes of love, or even pornographic blackmail, seldom amuse the reader, so, rather than describe these images in detail, I will simply ask, what was mere sex—even kinky sex—to the startling things Welles was doing in these images?¹¹

Welles' campaign was crestfallen. They assured her that they were devotedly on her side, regardless of her tastes, but that this was a fatal blow. Welles, for once, got very heated. She shouted about her rights to her own sexuality, the control of her body, and the fact that everybody knew this was what the men were doing anyway (her opponents were only men). In a fiery moment she took a large black marker and scrawled publish and be damned!¹² on one of the photographs and caused it to be made public. Many other photos followed from mysterious sources.

They were hugely popular, and none more so than the one on which Welles had written her defiance. All the most important sources of political gossip featured them, despite their usually-censored explicit sexual content. If Welles had been a slim, attractive woman, if she had been a man, if she had been any less common, the photographs would have finished her. As it was, a large segment of the Martian public surprised itself by electing her in a landslide with the general opinion that a big girl like her ought to have some fun.