The Meek One (Short Story)

Originally posted here. Note that this is a work of dystopic fiction, and nothing else.

As the head of the Historical Department, Mialencia knew the history of Nova Matriam more than well. It had been several centuries since humankind had replaced reproduction through bodily contact with cloning, and therefore just as long since the balance of the Old Ages had shifted. Before, men had been seen as having stronger bodies as well as minds. Now, when their seed had become obsolete, the few still produced were only allowed to work with manual labor. Some were granted the honour of doing maintenance work around the government buildings and offices of the inner city, but most were out in the factories surrounding it. A selection – the meek and beautiful – were kept for pleasure.

Mialencia had recently gotten herself a Meek One, as they were commonly called, of her own – as was expected of a woman of her standing. He was no more than eighteen years to her thirty-five, and his hair was as dark as the room she was currently unable to fall asleep in. According to the letter of purchase, his name was Karion.

It was something about his smell, and the warmth of his body. She had read accounts of intergender attraction from the Old Ages, but few told such tales today. With very little reference, she did not know how to deal with her feelings.

For a long time, she considered leaving her bed and walking over to the downstairs room in which he slept. Then, finally, she snorted and nodded to herself.

She would replace him in the morning.