“Adam, take your umbrella.”
Adam glanced out the window through the cooking smoke filling the room.
“Dad, there’s not a cloud in the sky.”
His dad looked up from the pot he was stirring on the stove. “You never know when you’ll need it, son.”
Adam’s mom twitched the tips of her ears in their direction, said, “Listen to your father, Adam,” never
looking up from her net screen. The glow of the monitor cast a halo on her features, her eyes glowing a
soft yellow. Votes for the latest law were being tallied. She and Adam’s dad had cast their votes earlier
that day. Adam, although an adult at 20, was not legally allowed to vote until he married a Mod. His
mom’s anxiety was apparent only by the slight swish of the tip of her tail.
Adam’s childhood soundtrack was filled with his parent’s political discussions. His playground was
various political rallies running around with the kids of the other activists. He grew up knowing his place
in society but never truly feeling its impact. Why worry about what you couldn’t control?
His mother, while modified, was a supporter of non-mod choice and men’s equal rights. She lamented that
girls were modified after birth and not given the choice later in life.
She and her husband fought against the mandatory vasectomy law before Adam’s birth. The supporters of
the law argued that the “precaution” of sterilizing all boys after birth could easily be reversed when they
were of marriageable age. The law stipulated that the reversal would be free of charge once the young
man, with the consent of his wife, passed the physical and psychological tests.
“A healthy society must be governed from the cradle to the grave,” as President Jocelyn Coje repeatedly
said.
On the heels of the sterilization law, a law was rushed through outlawing men from owning or handling
weapons of any kind.
“There’s no need for barbaric instruments of violence in a civilized, peaceful society. You don’t see
women clamoring to carry weapons!” was another often quoted saying of President Coje. Adam’s mom
rolled her eyes and quipped “No need to carry a weapon when you are the weapon.”
She had secretly trained Adam in self defense with various mundane objects, knowing the penalty would
land her in federal prison with a possible death sentence.
Men were seen as unpredictable, hormonal, hysterical beings who couldn’t be trusted. The more docile
they were kept, the safer for society.
Adam grabbed his umbrella and headed towards the door. His mother called after him, “Adam, be safe out
there tonight. No matter how this vote goes, there’s going to be people looking for a fight.”
Adam quietly sighed. “Mom, you worry too much. I’ll be fine!”
Adam stepped out onto the sidewalk, still warm from the setting sun and started towards his destination.
His umbrella clicked a beat on the sidewalk with every step. The delicious scents of dinners being cooked
wafted to him on the breeze. The familiar sights and sounds wrapped him in a warm embrace.
A soft humming behind him caught his attention and made the hairs on his neck stand up. A quick glance
showed three Mods following him, watching his every move and not concerned at all with his discomfort.
The tallest one, her tawny eyes reflecting the street lights, blew him a kiss. He crossed the street and they
followed at a leisurely pace.
Adam knew he couldn’t outrun them and their sense of smell could track him. He had to get into a crowd.
He spotted a club and headed for the entrance. The pounding beat of the music covered his rapid heartbeat
and the incense filling the space would help mask his scent. Adam weaved through the crowd and dared a
glance behind him. The tawny eyed one had followed him inside. He headed towards the back of the club
and straight into the other two Mods.
“Hello, beautiful one,” tawny eyes said from behind him.
Ice ran down Adam’s spine. “What do you want?” he croaked out of a dry throat.
“Oh, you know what we want, love,” crooned tawny eyes, tracing a line down Adam’s cheek with a claw.
“You in public without a Mod escort is a crime as of this evening. So, we’re going to have some fun
before we report you.”
Adam acted on instinct, years of training with his mother kicking in. The umbrella came up and caught
tawny eyes under the chin, knocking her head back so hard she slumped to the ground unconscious. The
other two stared in confusion which gave Adam the chance he needed to run out an alley door. He didn’t
get far before the Mods were behind him, low growls of rage letting him know how they felt.
A hand grabbed Adam and pulled him through a doorway, the door slamming behind him with a metallic
click. He could hear pounding and claws trying to gouge the door.
Adam jerked away, readying his umbrella for another strike.
“Whoa! Calm down, Adam!”
“Mrs. Wilcox?” Adam stared bewildered at his neighbor. A huge grin lit up her face, showing her sharp
canines. “What are you doing here?” Adam took a closer look around the space and saw dozens of
computers with Mods typing and making calls.
“Honey, we knew if that asinine law passed tonight a lot of men were going to be in trouble. So we set up
a call center weeks ago to provide men in need with a Mod escort.”
Adam turned in a slow circle seeing familiar Mods and men. Most of them were kids he had played with
as a child. All the men carried umbrellas.
“Did my parents help with this?” Adam asked in wonder.
“They organized the whole thing. Your mom trained every man here in self defense.”
Adam looked at the umbrella in his hand. Mrs. Wilcox smiled and said, “You never know when you’ll need it."
