Kill all Males

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Gay and Lesbian  |  House: Booksie Classic
In a dystopian society where gender determines if you will live or die, the President must make a life-changing decision.

Submitted: July 18, 2012

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Submitted: July 18, 2012

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After World War II, the female survivors decided that, as men caused the war and did most of the fighting, they were simply too dangerous and incompetent to be in control of the government any longer. In fact, it would be too dangerous to allow men to continue living at all. They wiped out every male from the face of their small society, called Aipotu, but some escaped and began altering themselves to look like women. This story follows the president of the new world, and her desperate struggle to make sense of the true identity of gender.  

***

I curled my fingers around the stem of my coffee mug, watching each of the thirty bright screens intently. One television flickers with the birds-eye view of an elementary classroom. Each student, clad in their pink uniforms, stare up at the lesson board, in rapture. Another screen depicts several biological women loading up our army tanks in preparation for the war against the Niebieskie M??czy?ni, who had been trying to break through our boundaries for months now. I felt a sense of pride in these women. They wouldn’t screw up warfare like our males used to. No wonder we were winning.

On the left wall of my office, the screen showed a biological woman, walking through our community gardens, alongside an obvious pre-male. ‘Her’ stride was much too masculine, shoulders too square. My eyes narrowed. I zoomed in on the pre-male’s clothing identification tag that all citizens of Aipotu wore. ‘She’ was number 127, one of the earlier, unsuccessful transformations. The underground rebel surgeons have become much more skilled nowadays, unfortunately. The newest batches of pre-males even have almost the same thought processes as a genuine female, making it near physically impossible weed them out from the rest of the population. But this, this thing, was just pathetic.

 My fingers slid across my control pad, typing in a one, and two, and a seven. I hit enter and returned my attention to the screen, a small smile stretching across my lips. As the pair wandered past a large oak tree, several agents clad in black bulletproof vests dropped down on them. While one agent injected the biological female with a drug to be knocked unconscious, the others descended upon the rebel, clubbing ‘her’ to death with their long metal poles.

I turned my attention to the other screens now. So far, it had been a successful day at work.

***

Lunch that afternoon was the usual mindless gossipy chatter that the other women seemed to enjoy. I however kept thinking about the rebel from that morning. ‘She’ was the seventeenth capture this month, a staggering number.

How could the males be surviving? Ever since the invention of controlled artificial fertilization and the womb stimulation tanks, our society has been able to ensure that every baby is an XX female, without going through the annoyance of pregnancy. What if they were coming in from outside the walls of our country? What if it were the Niebieskie M??czy?ni…

“Hey Belle,” called Juno, my irritating vice president; “Did you hear what happened at the Maternity Lab last night?”

I shook my head distractedly, figuring yet another baby was born with unnatural looking red hair. We needed to fix that.

“Somebody broke in.”

I froze, spun around to face her. “What?” 

Her face lit up, glowing from the sudden attention. “So, I was on watch, because I needed the extra pay and all, and at about four in the morning I could see on the screens that two tall figures went into the lab. I thought they were just nurses checking on the meiosis processing, but instead one of them took some sort of syringe out of their pocket. Whatever was in that needle, they injected it into the machine that was currently creating the genes for our next generation of babies.” Juno then took a deep breath and leaned back into her chair, looking satisfied with herself. “So that’s what happened.”

I mulled this over, dull terror slowly rising in my stomach. “And, of course you didn’t even bother to try identifying the criminals? Names, faces, anything?”

“That’s the weird part,” said Juno slowly. “I went through everything. According to our society’s records, those two people don’t exist.”

Damn. These people were good. It had to be Niebieskie M??czy?ni spies. They were the only ones who hated us with such a passion. “What of the babies? Did anything happen to them?”

Juno scrunched up her face, her little brain thinking hard. “I haven’t heard anything yet, but, I mean, we’ll find out soon. After all, the next generation is being born today.”

“Oh brilliant.” I muttered darkly. “Well, let’s go birth some future citizens.”

***

I stared at the babies. At first, I thought it was some hideous birth defect. Now that I think about it, I wish it were only a birth defect.

Every new child had to be inspected before leaving the Maternity Lab, and as President, I was always assigned the role. This job usually made me cheery, seeing the future generations of my world lined up in a row with an air of such promise. But not today. Today, there was only dread. A wave of nausea swept over me, and the gurgling little infants blurred out of my vision.

Males. Every single one. They cried too loudly, moved around too fast, and all had a general sense of rowdiness that would later in life turn into an impulsive instinct for killing their enemies. Well at least we now know what was in that syringe. Pure Y-chromosomes.

 I hadn’t seen a male in its natural, un-transitioned state since our victory over the Niebieskie M??czy?ni, when all but the biological females were purged out of the Aipotu walls. Would these children be allowed to live, they would pollute our perfect utopia, which I had strived so long to achieve.

Why can’t the foreigners understand that every war in history has been instigated by the selfish greed and stubbornness of men? Women are more competent, and we use our words to settle disputes instead of resorting to fists and guns.

With this in mind, I looked again at the hundreds of baby boys as they rolled around giggling in their cells, psyching myself up to end their existence. Humanely, of course. You can’t kill a baby by beating it to death with metal poles, even if it is a male.

 However, when I made eye contact with one particularly fat baby who had sky blue eyes as soul piercing as my own, a strange ache began to spread through my body, from around where my heart would be. I felt hatred towards this violent little barbarian, but something else as well: longing.

The innocent love pouring from this youth’s eyes was silvery and pure. He did not have the shrewd, hating glare of a pre-male rebel, nor any other expression but that of hope.

I shuddered. My father, one of the soldiers in World War III, looked exactly like this child. His appearance is a bit fuzzy in my mind now, granted, but I can practically see him grinning up at me from the baby’s eyes. I haven’t seen my dad in over thirty years. I was the one who gave the order for him to be purged.

It’s funny how easy it was for me, to kill my own father. At the time, I recall we had gotten into an argument, and when I couldn’t think of a witty comeback to one of his digs he threw at me, I gave the order for him to die.

What chaos could possibly ensue if I were to let these boys grow up? With a good education, and a proper lesson in moral and ethic values, who’s to say our society wouldn’t benefit?

I gave a long look at the blue-eyed boy. He grinned up at me, clapping his hands. I gave a small smile back. The other babies were settling down now in their cells, sleeping, snuggling next to their brothers for warmth. Then I looked down at my uniform, my shiny badge of presidential honor, and shook my head slowly.

Sighing, I left the lab, closing the airtight door securely behind me. Next to the door, there was a rectangular control box, with a palm-sized red button that glowed slightly. I pushed it.

 From inside the Maternity Lab, there came the sound of hissing. Thick yellow gas came billowing out of the vents, near the cells. I started walking towards the exit of the building, quickly.

High-pitched coughs, desperate and choking, could be heard even through the soundproof door. It was impossible to see inside the room, the gas was so opaque. There was crying as well, but I hummed as I walked and couldn’t hear a thing.

It had been a successful day at work. 


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