. . .a byword of emotional volatility throughout the Subdesertine Service. . .

«It had been a particular liberty weekend in Nuovo Rialto. The ship happened to to have tied up at a quay belonging to an aryq shipper, along which many sailor were discovered each morning semi-paralyzed, having got no further in their pursuit of recreation, their Hypop units humming on in Dormant mode. A number of the crew reported being waylaid by sand-fleas, the queues at sick bay each morning running down passageways and ladders well into the Viscosity spaces. Some, apparently having enjoyed the accostments, didn't report them at all. The quarterdeck witnessed scenes of vituperation, smuggling attempts failed and successful, romantic melodrama as the more adventurous crew members discovered the complex allure of Veneto-Uyghur women, who were a byword of emotional volatility throughout the Subdesertine Service. When the time came at last to single up all the lines, some 2 percent of the crew, about average as these things went, had announced plans to stay behind and get married. Captain Toadflax took this with the equanamity of a long-time tropper in the region, figuring he'd get most of them back when he came through town again at the end of the cruise. "Marriage or under-sand duty," shaking his head at some cosmic sadness. "What a choice" . . .»

(Thomas Pynchon, Against the Day)