2100: A MAN'S TALE
The year is 2100. A new breed of powerful Amazons enforces the brave new world of total sexual androgyny. However, the rule of women has come at a cost. An incessant war has been successfully waged for some time against the use of ‘primeval instincts’.  Society is now so sexually repressed that both men and women eschew physical pleasures for intellectual attainment. While men generally acquiesce in the brave new world of platonic benevolence, the spiritual transmutation of the sex force harbours a deep resentment in some men. These men feel alienated from their maleness and innate urges. Two of these men, Dion and his friend Alex, see this unisex utopia as a form of insidious madness. In their experience, it is a long way removed from the summum bonum as it is so popularly represented. Together, they set out to discover who they really are and what it is like to be a sexual human being…	In Store Price: $AU29.95  Online Price:   $AU28.95 ISBN:   978-1-921406-06-5   Format: Paperback Number of pages: 337 Genre: Fiction/Speculative Fiction Cover: Simone Dumbleton
Author: Dionysis H. Jamison Publisher: Zeus Publications Date Published: 2007 Language: English

About the author

The author’s previously published works include The Death of Eve (1988), and Responsible Manhood (2006). In addition, he has had over a thousand items published in the mass media.

The author has been involved with men’s and gender issues for over twenty-five years and publishes a quarterly men’s newsletter. He graduated with a Bachelor of Arts, majoring in sociology, from Deakin University in 1999.

Chapter 1                   
Petticoat puissance (part sample)

“Beep! Good morning! Beeeep! Good morning!”

I rolled over and glared at the small television screen. “Good morning Dion, it’s six o’clock,” said the attractive smiling face with its digitalised female voice. “Time to rise and shine!” “Oh shuddup,” I mumbled to the alarm, which shut itself off automatically on hearing ‘shuddup.’

My mind, still half asleep, slowly began to crank into gear. I began to think about the meeting later that morning with Electra Ge, the head of my department. It was this morning, wasn’t it? Rubbing my eyes, I focused on the LED display on the bedside control panel. It read, ‘Monday, the 15th of March 2100. Review meeting with Professor Ge, 0900 hrs.’

I looked across the hallway to the adjacent bedroom to check if my partner of three years, Hestia, was stirring. She was usually the first up but this morning she overslept. We were madly in love once, but over time Hestia has become aloof and reserved. Once upon a time, I called her ‘Love’. Now it was simply Hestia.

My mind began to tick over and dwell on the meeting with Electra Ge. I hated these semester reviews. ‘Waste of ruddy time,’ I thought to myself. Over the years, the reviews had become more intense and more personal. But I had to admit, Electra Ge was a very likeable person and I got along well with her although she could be pedantic at times.

I slowly hauled myself out of bed and put on my slippers and shave coat before tiptoeing off to the ensuite. After showering and shaving, I stumbled into my cloths. I then went to the kitchen and switched on the percolator. When it boiled, I made some coffee and sat down at the table.

As I ate my muesli, I said “On” to the television and it promptly switched itself on. “Channel Four,” I said and at once the environmental channel jumped into view. Nothing of interest was on. “Channel CNN,” I commanded and the world news came into focus.

“Good morning! A jubilant President of the United Nations, Ms Nephthy Wong,” said the attractive female presenter, “told a packed meeting of the general assembly at the UN’s head quarters in Beijing last night that the world population has now reached the target figure of three billion set by the UN in 2050. Since then, the world’s population has steadily declined from seven billion to just over three billion.

“President Wong said that while the latest figures were encouraging there was still need of further reductions in population numbers if environmental degradation is to be fully arrested. ‘Ideally, the target we would like to reach is two billion. We are working on ways to achieve this goal as we believe the environment can only permanently sustain a total human population of two billion,’ she said.

“‘The last time the world had a population of three billion was one hundred years and thirty three years ago in 1967.’ She went on to say that the decision by the UN to implement its one child policy worldwide in 2040 in order to reduce environmental degradation had been hugely successful. President Wong said an international ‘Festival of Light’ would be held in Mexico City later next month to celebrate this momentous event.

“The United Nations Commissioner for the environment announced this morning that the world population of private vehicles has fallen by over fifty percent in the past decade. The most popular form of transport today is the bike, followed by public transport ahead of energy efficient private vehicles. Horse-drawn vehicles are now the fourth most popular form of transport. They comprise fifteen percent of all transport vehicles. In terms of private vehicles, solar powered and electric cars today make up ninety-five percent of the total, with vehicles propelled by internal gas combustion engines now only five percent of the overall world total. Diesel powered vehicles are still unfortunately used in Asia and South America.

“The other major news today, economic sanctions against Iran, the last nation to possess nuclear weapons, has been successful. President Wong said that Iran, in the interests of world peace, had now agreed to dispose of his country’s nuclear arsenal over the next six months. As a result, a major international standoff has been avoided, according to UN sources.

“President Wong went on to say that the parliaments of Iran, and its neighbour Iraq, have also agreed to make their countries’ Islamic practices conform to all UN Human Rights Conventions. In addition, they have finally agreed to implement the UN’s one child policy. They are the last major nations to do so,” she intoned.

My eye detected a movement off to my left. “About time too!” said the immaculately dressed Hestia as she entered the room. “The Islamic nations are the last bastions of male leadership. No wonder they took so long. A female president would have agreed long ago,” she said firmly but in a rather nonchalant fashion.

“It’s no wonder the population has declined,” I said. “The UN has forced just about every nation to put bromide in their drinking water. I mean it’s been going on for over fifty years now.”

“I have to say,” said Hestia, “that was a brilliant move. It had to be done. Otherwise the environment would have completely collapsed under the weight of an ever increasing human degradation.”

“I guess so,” I said cautiously, “although I think we have gone from one extreme to the other.” Discretion was the better part of valour. Hestia was not a person to be trifled with first thing in the morning.

“I don’t think so,” she said coolly. “Some sections of the world are still overcrowded. We certainly don’t need extra people in this country.”

I felt my blood pressure rising as I had wanted a child for most of my adult life. I couldn’t stop myself from saying, “It’s a bugger being one of the fertile forty-nine percent! I have this natural ability, but nobody in this ruddy country wants to have children.”

“Look!” said Hestia brusquely. “Let’s not get into this again. Like I said, my career is my central focus now. Maybe I’ll think about a baby in a couple of years. Besides, you do have options too you know.”

“Yes, but I thought you were going to think about it…I mean you’re nearly thirty-eight.”

“So what? There’s plenty of time left yet. I can still have a baby even when I’m over fifty – and thanks to the marvels of science that could be extended to seventy soon,” Hestia said, flouncing her hair.

“I see,” I said. “We’ll be like Sarah and Abraham and have a son or daughter when we’re a hundred.”

She flashed me an angry look. Regaining her composure she said, “We could do what everyone else does and adopt a third world child.”

With that, Hestia strode into the dining area with her cup of carob chocolate to watch the CNN newscast on her own.

My anger having peaked, it began to subside. Trying to convince Hestia to have a child was like trying to penetrate an iron barrier with a blunt knife. I sighed and let my thoughts drift. I glanced at Hestia. Nice face, the body could do with some firming up. Then again I could do with a solid workout or two. I chided myself for having these sexist thoughts.

Still, she cut a good figure in her dark blue pinstripe trouser suit – her favourite ensemble. She had four such suits in her wardrobe, one for each working day. I couldn’t make out why she liked dark blue so much. Was it because it gave her an air of authority? It made her look very drab and, dare I say it, unfeminine.

Maybe she liked the business look as it befitted her professional status. I didn’t think her short-cropped black hair and gothic make up did anything for her either. After all, she was not overly tall and the short dark hair gave her a brooding countenance.

“Glad a solution was found to the Iran crisis. Things were getting tense over there,” she said in a reconciliatory tone as she came back into the kitchen area.

“Could have been World War Three,” I volunteered.

“Yes indeed. Like I say, a female president would have realised the uselessness of fighting the world community. But no, male leaders – as typified by the sexist Iranians – are so arrogant!”

“But female leaders aren’t?”

“We are more reconciliatory and we govern by consensus.”

“You mean compromise?” I quipped.

“Certainly not. Wimmin are principled people. And what’s wrong with being flexible? And we have more commonsense than males. Anyway, don’t you have to see Electra this morning?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t sound too enthusiastic about it. Electra’s a great person. You should be thankful you have her for a boss. What time is your appointment? Nine, isn’t it?”

“Yes. I don’t know why so many reviews are necessary.”

“It’s all part of the system. Besides, she’s very capable and very dedicated. She really is a very fair person. You get on well with her, don’t you? So why the panic?”

“I’m not panicking. We get along fine. It’s just sometimes she can be so, well...”

“Bossy?”

I didn’t want to ruffle her feathers. Electra and Hestia had once been very close friends but hadn’t seen each other for years. “Pedantic is the word I had in mind. She’s a stickler for detail,” I said trying to sound casual.

“That’s a diplomatic answer.” She sighed before continuing. “Why don’t you say what you think? You males are such a wimpy lot.” She shook her head as she said this and poured herself another coffee.

“I am saying what I think,” I protested. “She’s very competent. Like I say, I get along well with her. But when she gets her teeth into something, she doesn’t let go until she gets the results she’s after.”

“That’s an admirable trait.”

“It has its limitations.” I figured it was time to change tack. “Will you be home at the usual time tonight?”

“More than likely. Don’t forget to put the meat on at half past five, and don’t put the setting up too high as ostrich is better cooked slowly. It should be ready by the time I get home at seven. Make sure you also water the garden when you get home – between the stipulated times.”

I nodded. “Okay. I think we have nearly used up our quota of water for this month too. We’re going to have to be frugal.”

“Well, use the watering can then. Oh, before I forget. Did you dig the vegetable garden yesterday?”

“Ah, no. Had assignments to correct.”

“Will you do it when you get home this afternoon?”

Hestia is always thinking of something for me to do. The list is never ending.

“If you insist. Why do you ask?” I replied without the slightest hint of enthusiasm.

“The Department of Conservation,” she replied, “is insisting that all households become self sufficient in greens and tomatoes this year. Could you plant some tomatoes? I think we’re right for greens. I think they are due to inspect our garden shortly – if my memory serves me correctly. Let me see.”

Hestia scanned the inspection chart dates that clung to the fridge door. “They will come next Thursday.”

“I’ll do it in the next couple of days,” I promised.

“What do you mean?’ If you don’t do it soon we will be fined. We have to plant them today or tomorrow because the inspectors will be here on Thursday.”

Hestia glanced at her watch before glancing at me. “Have a lot to do today. Time I was on my way.”

“Another meeting?”

“I have three to attend today. Must away!” she said as she grabbed her briefcase and headed for the door.

“Not having anything to eat?”

“No. We are having an office breakfast after the first meeting, so I’ll eat then. Don’t forget, be a good boy and plant the tomatoes when you get home. Oh, one more thing, Cyclops needs to be walked before you go to work. Ciao!” she said as she disappeared through the doorway.

“Ciao...have a nice day.” It wasn’t a totally sincere statement but it was the first thing that came to mind. I doubt whether she heard me anyway.

I sat at the table thinking. Even after three years, I still couldn’t make Hestia out. When I went out, she insisted on a kiss on the check. When she went out, she didn’t bother to kiss me or say ‘goodbye’ sometimes. I must admit our relationship has been under strain of late. But then again ever since I moved in with her the relationship has hung by a slender thread.

(c)2008 Zeus Publications           All rights reserved.