The award-winning short story, “The Monster,” serves as the basis for my upcoming dystopian Sci-fi novel, “Sex War One,” to be published December 15th. The book is available for preorders at “Sex War One” for Kindle Edition & “Sex War One” for Smash- words Edition: iBookstore, Sony, Kobo, B&N & more.
Here’s the second segment (first was posted here September 15th):
He briefly surveyed all those gathered in the hall, women and men who looked amazingly similar to one another. A stranger from a strange land, should he happen to be present, would find it difficult to distinguish among them. Female or male, young or old, pleasing to the eye or not – it did not matter, as they all looked so similar. But D.L. was no stranger: he recognized them all and knew very well who was who, even when their individual blue eyes felt – as was the case now, staring straight at him – as if they uniformly belonged to a single, collective body.
“There is no need,” he calmly said, “to specify the reason for this urgently called assembly. I suppose you are all aware of it. But there is a need to stress that it is unnecessary, and exceeds our quota for the monthly gatherings allowed. It adds nothing of value to our normal, well-managed way of life here in the colony. You, colony- citizens, will have to decide on the matter. I ask you to decide correctly.”
Opposite him, one of the citizens was preparing to speak, first drinking some solution from the thin nozzle affixed to her armrest. That citizen’s hair was cut short, shorter than that of most of the citizens gathered in the hall, its color platinum blond. When that citizen straightened up in the chair, small feminine breasts and remnants of delicate body curves hinted that she was, indeed, a woman.
“There is a need,” she emphasized, “in our assembly at this time. An urgent need, as a matter of fact, to rid ourselves of the Monster. You need to exterminate her, D.L., once and for all. Erase her from our collective memory. It is inconceivable that such ugliness will be permitted to exist among us any longer!”
Her name was N.R., but there was no need for an introduction. All the colony-citizens assembled in the hall knew each other very well. And like D.L., they were aware also that it was due to N.R.’s unwavering insistence that this urgent, unscheduled meeting was now in progress.
“Since the bizarre, and still unexplained mistake of the Birth-Machine,” she continued, “we tolerate among us the presence of this shapeless, brainless creature that serves no purpose whatsoever. Other than…” she paused momentarily, no doubt in order to increase the dramatic effect of the words to come. “Other than the private, personal pet of Citizen D.L.”