In the near-future dystopian society of EVE, women control the world.
Young brilliant scientist Neen Salvek of Clan Triverser is assigned to screen imprisoned males of the Dome, to assess their mental and emotional fitness before breeding season. Her task is crucial in order to protect the breeding women, and continue the development of their genetic enhancements. As she embarks on her mission she finds more than she bargained for – a system of brutal mutilation and slavery that condemns any male who doesn't make the cut in the breeding competition to death.
This fate awaits Tem - a male from the super-strong, super-fast Clan Benglion - if he can't stand his ground and fight in the competition. As Neen helps Tem overcome his childhood trauma, she unravels a deeper conspiracy that threatens the very existence of EVE. Now she must face a choice: to go against everything she believes or accept the dawn of a new world.
In the near-future dystopian society of EVE, women control the world.
Young brilliant scientist Neen Salvek of Clan Triverser is assigned to screen imprisoned males of the Dome, to assess their mental and emotional fitness before breeding season. Her task is crucial in order to protect the breeding women, and continue the development of their genetic enhancements. As she embarks on her mission she finds more than she bargained for – a system of brutal mutilation and slavery that condemns any male who doesn't make the cut in the breeding competition to death.
This fate awaits Tem - a male from the super-strong, super-fast Clan Benglion - if he can't stand his ground and fight in the competition. As Neen helps Tem overcome his childhood trauma, she unravels a deeper conspiracy that threatens the very existence of EVE. Now she must face a choice: to go against everything she believes or accept the dawn of a new world.
The Female Breeders
 By Melanie Bokstad Horev
In loving memory of Rina Horev and Larry Bokstad. I miss you both terribly.
Chapter 1 - Neen
Neen Salvek was tired of waiting. It was insufferable.
It had been weeks since she'd finished her degree, and still the council hadn't notified her about her work assignment.
The sun outside was setting, its tired beams marking the end of another day. Neen looked out across the skyline of High City. The pinkish light from the sunset caught the reflection of the city's central district's gleaming white towers and glass windows. Off in the distance, the Arena Dome shimmered. Its exterior was all glass — a special kind that allowed only those from outside to look in.
Neen's residence was too far away for her to see inside the Dome now, but there were times when she'd walked about the city and wandered by it to see what the males were doing.
She never got too close, of course. Even though none of the males could see out of the one-way glass, she felt uncomfortable getting near. Neen knew her history well. The males were not to be trusted.
Since it was twilight now, the glass of the Dome would be shifting soon. It was almost time for the evening report. When that time came, the glass would switch to a giant LED screen, and all the screens across the city would broadcast the news.
Three times a day, High City officials would broadcast these reports: sunrise, midday, and sunset. They were never particularly interesting — what news could there be in a city with no real crime, no social ills, no suffering? — but the council insisted on the thrice-daily routine.
Sisterhood. Community. A reminder of how far the world of EVE had come since the dark days before the revolution.
The women of High City, it was believed, needed these reminders. Despite the security of the dome, women still needed males to breed with. Every month, there would still be intimate contact between them. The citizens of EVE needed to remember the horrors of male dominance; there was no letting one's guard down, even during breeding sessions. As repetitive as these reports were, they were necessary. The survival of the sisterhood depended on it.
Neen didn't need to worry about becoming too attached to a male breeding partner. She was classified at fertility level D, the lowest. Even if she was interested in breeding, she would never be selected. The doctors who ran the breeding program only wanted the women with the most chance for successful insemination and full-term, healthy pregnancy.
Like Ems.
Neen's best friend would be arriving soon from her clan lands. After all, it was almost time for the breeding trials, and Ems would need to watch the males compete in order to make an informed selection.
Neen wasn't sure how she felt about Ems getting designated a breeder. As children, they'd both laughed when their teachers explained the breeding process. It was still quite comical to Neen even now, but she understood the necessity. The genetic processes necessary to develop the clans' specialized traits meant breeding the old-fashioned way.
Scientists had tried to replicate the process in the lab, but the experiments always delivered inferior results. If they wanted to keep the genetic enhancements of each clan intact, then for better or for worse, they needed to breed with the males.
Still, Neen thought the whole thing sounded awkward. She respected the women who had the courage to breed with the males, but she had decided a long time ago that she could never go through with it herself. It wasn’t like she had a choice anyways, low breeding class and all.
Ems had been of a similar mind, but perhaps that had changed now. This was the first time Ems had been classified as fertility level A.
Neen missed her. They hadn't seen each other since Ems finished her training early and was assigned to the leadership circle in her clan lands. That was over a year ago. Ems had risen fast since getting her assignment. She had recently been selected clan leader and won the vote by a large majority.
Seeing her friend's success made Neen even more restless. Her classes at the university never really challenged her, her internship work had been monotonous, and now that she had graduated, all this waiting for an assignment was driving her crazy.
It insulted her too. Hadn't she been at the top of her class as a Triverser? Hadn't she finished her training faster than anyone except her Sixter friend Ems?
It was ridiculous that the high council hadn't chosen an assignment for her yet.
Wandering around the city, reading books alone in her residence, chatting with Ems every other day via their networked screens — it was just too much sameness, day after day, no change.
Neen needed a challenge. All her life she had felt this restlessness. Nothing seemed to be enough.
And yet she felt guilty at the same time. Was she ungrateful for the world her foremothers had created, a world free from want and needless suffering? A world in which women could finally — after centuries of oppression — flourish?
But her mind was never still. Everywhere Neen looked, she analyzed and contemplated and wondered how things could be made better. Their society was nearly flawless, but it wasn't perfect. There were still things that could be improved. Neen was hoping the high council would give her a position within city planning or even the breeding labs. Perhaps there was a way to revisit the old experiments of breeding without intercourse, of ensuring the genetic enhancements for each clan were successful without having to mate with the males.
Or perhaps there was a way to change the males. To make them less dangerous.
Neen knew she shouldn't be entertaining such thoughts, but they had crossed her mind more than once before. With all their scientific breakthroughs in genetic technology, wouldn't it be possible to breed males who were not like their ancestors, who weren't violent or deceitful or hardwired to desire the subjugation of women?
These were dangerous thoughts. The idea that males could be reformed, that they could be fundamentally changed, was not the kind of thing a woman said openly.
She heard a familiar shrill whistle from the kitchen, the antique kettle ringing loudly in the quiet apartment.
She got up to make her tea, choosing an herbal mix from her tidy cupboard and breathing in the bright smell of camomile and mint. She scooped the loose leaves into her brew basket, placed it over her teacup, and then lifted the ancient cast iron kettle from the stove. She admired the sturdy kettle as its hot contents poured over the tea leaves.
Neen had found the kettle in an antique market years ago, and while Ems had found it annoying, Neen adored the ancient relic. A calmness came over her as she breathed in the scent of steeping tea. It was a calmness she had longed for all day. Neen yawned and rubbed her eyes. She hadn’t slept well last night, tossing and turning with uncertainty.
Neen sighed, waiting for the evening report to begin. It was the last thing she wanted to see, but there was simply no choice. Even if she tried to block out the images and sounds, the evening report couldn't be turned off.
Just as the Dome glass outside and the networked screen on her lap both shimmered and went black, there was a knock at her door.
Both the knock and the voice announcer from the evening report startled Neen. She could hear the familiar, too-happy voice of councilwoman Sienax echoing from her tablet screen, but she blocked it out and went to the door.
Standing there was high council member Nekka, the representative of Clan Triverser.
Neen stepped back and looked at her with wide eyes. The council members didn't usually make personal visits to new graduates awaiting assignment, councilwoman Nekka least of all.
Nekka had sometimes observed Neen in her classes and even given the younger Triverser a few half-hearted kudos on occasion, but she wasn't exactly a warm or friendly presence to the students in the Institute, or even the clerks in government.
Nekka was distant and somewhat unapproachable. Perhaps it was her Triverser nature — many of Neen's clan were cerebral, more focused on solving an equation than on being bosom buddies — but Nekka was perhaps the most inscrutable of all the high council members. She was certainly the least amiable. To have her standing in Neen's doorway right now, her gray hair tied back tightly in a neat bun, was a bit intimidating.
"Councilwoman Nekka," Neen said, stepping aside so the older woman could enter, "what an unexpected honor." She held out her hands so that Nekka could greet her in the formal manner.
"Hm?" Nekka looked at Neen's outstretched hands, palms facing up, waiting to be clasped. But Nekka waved them away. "Never mind all that," she said. "There's no one watching."
Without being asked, Nekka took a seat on Neen's sofa. The two women were dressed almost identically, each wearing a jumpsuit with the light brown Triverser colors on the top and the circular EVE insignia just under the collarbone on the left side.
Nekka looked Neen up and down. "You're much prettier than I remember," said the councilwoman. "Not very typical."
Neen squirmed under the gaze of the older woman. Her physical appearance had been a slight source of embarrassment when Neen was a child; Triversers were valued for their intelligence, not their looks. Only the males cared about such things; it was another way they had dehumanized women in ancient times.
"It can't be helped," Neen replied, ignoring her discomfort. "I don't let it get in the way, though."
"No, you don't."
They both had to speak loudly, ignoring the prattling of Sienax and the other voices coming from Neen's tablet. Despite the banality and repetitiveness of the evening broadcast, there was no way to turn it off.
"Congratulations, by the way," Nekka continued. "Graduating early. Youngest in your cohort. Impressive." The way she said it, though, didn't sound particularly complimentary. Something in Nekka's matter-of-fact manner was off-putting.
Still, Neen knew the councilwoman was incredibly intelligent and well-respected. A true matriarch of society. A compliment from Nekka — even a perfunctory one — was something to be proud of.
"Thank you, councilwoman," Neen replied. "I must admit I'm anxious to get my work assignment."
Nekka nodded and a thin smile spread across her lips. "I bet you are."
Neen waited for her to say more, but the droning of the report was all that passed between them. Not knowing what else to do, Neen glanced at her tablet.
The broadcast was showing its usual ode to the glories of EVE, a montage of the ways different women in High City had helped each other throughout the day. There were shots of Triverser doctors chatting with their patients, images of Evox actors performing for an amphitheater of patrons, scenes of smiling Trabador construction workers building a new public library. The voice-over reveled in the achievements of this woman-centered society, all while lovely, harmonious melodies flowed from the soundtrack.
Then the bucolic images faded and darkness covered the screen. The glass panels of the far-off arena dome turned dark as well. Every screen in the city was showing the same thing: darkness.
Sienax's voice grew lower, more ominous. "We cannot forget, my sisters. We can never let it happen again. The beauty of EVE must never be tarnished."
Then a flurry of images. Burning torches marching through ancient streets, women screaming, bodies being trampled by soldiers, gunshots and teargas everywhere. Then sporadic, grainy footage of men speaking to audiences from centuries ago, defending their draconian laws, fear-mongering about the breakdown of society, justifying the subjugation of women as the only way to restore law and order.
The images were disturbing, even after seeing them night after night for nearly her entire life. What men had done to women in those ancient times was awful.
Neen picked up the tablet and flipped it over so that the images couldn't be seen. Only the sound was still audible, just more muted.
"The males are too dangerous to be trusted," Sienax's voice continued. "Never forget the ringing of the bells and the birth of EVE. Together, as women, we are stronger than any male. Together, as women, we will flourish. Together, as women, we will see a new tomorrow. Together."
The music was now that beautiful and sentimental strain again, a final crescendo just before the end of the broadcast.
Nekka stared at Neen. "Don't like what you've seen?"
"No," said Neen. "It's an important message. Necessary, even. It's just— we're trying to talk. I'd appreciate having an off switch sometimes."
As soon as she said it, Neen wished she hadn't. It wasn't acceptable to question such things, especially in front of a high council member.
But Nekka didn't react. She simply observed Neen with that thin smile on her lips.
Neen decided to sit down across from her. She felt less on display if she was sitting down.
"The males are too dangerous to be trusted," Nekka repeated, almost to herself. "Isn’t that right, Neen Salvek?"
At first, Neen thought Nekka was speaking rhetorically. Of course the males were dangerous. What could be more obvious? But when Nekka sat patiently waiting for an answer, Neen realized the councilwoman's question wasn't rhetorical.
"Yes, of course," Neen answered. "We all know what they did centuries ago. No male can ever be trusted."
"And yet, each month, for days at a time, we place ourselves in the same rooms as the males, allow them to mate with us, and surrender some part of our safety to their trust."
"The women who choose to breed are brave indeed," Neen repeated the slogan she'd heard a million times before. It wasn't that Neen didn't believe it, it was more that she was tired of having to repeat these trite bromides. As a Triverser, it was hard to shut one's brain off sometimes and just go with the flow. Neen especially bristled at the constraints.
"A bit of a mixed message wouldn't you agree?" said Nekka. "We can't trust the males, and yet every month…" Nekka's eyes peered intently at Neen.
As a matter of fact, Neen could agree. She had wondered the same thing herself. It was a bit of a shock to hear a councilwoman so openly questioning the policies and messaging of their world, but Neen had to admit, she'd contemplated the same.
Perhaps Nekka was hinting that Neen would be placed with a bio lab to study ways to make breeding obsolete. Perhaps she would get assigned to design a new security system in the breeding suites. Neen's mind whirled with possibilities.
Finally, she might get to do something. Neen had waited long enough.
"The competitions will be starting soon," Nekka continued in that off-hand, impersonal way of hers. "I believe the first shipment of males arrives tomorrow morning." Nekka wasn't looking at Neen anymore; her eyes had drifted to the large window overlooking the city.
"As you may know," she continued, "lately we've seen an increase of women rejecting their breeding partners once they were alone in the breeding suite. Most women cited incompatibility, but a few reported extreme discomfort and a sense that their male partners were not willing to abide by our consent rules. Of course, those males were quickly removed from the program—"
Neen noticed Nekka's eyelashes flicker ever-so-slightly. It had been a gift from Neen's earliest years — the ability to notice these slight shifts in body language — something unusual for a Triverser. Ems had always joked that Neen was part Sixter somewhere in her ancestry.
But when Neen noticed this slight eye movement from Nekka, it made her wonder. It wasn't that Nekka's tone of voice changed; she was as matter-of-fact as ever. But something else had changed in the councilwoman.
Did Nekka disapprove of removing males from the breeding pool? After all, if a male couldn't breed, then it was best for him to be put to useful work instead. Without the males' efforts in the mines, they wouldn't have enough raw material to power the communications network.
Perhaps Neen misunderstood.
"What I'm proposing is a new procedure for screening the males," Nekka continued as if nothing had changed. "Psychological profiling before they even begin their trials. If a male is deemed unstable or not fit for breeding because of some mental defect, then he can be removed from the program earlier. Women will feel more comfortable knowing their males have been thoroughly screened ahead of time."
It made perfect sense to Neen. She was surprised something like this hadn't been instituted before.
"I can see the question forming in your mind," said Nekka, without taking her eyes off the view of the city skyline. "Why haven't we done this before? Frankly, in earlier eras, we were content with lower birth rates. Our population was bigger then. Not as much urgency. But now, members of the high council are concerned. We can't sustain these rates. Something needs to be done."
"Let me guess. You're one of those concerned council members," Neen replied. She didn't see the need to beat around the bush. Neen hardly ever did.
"I am," Nekka replied, finally turning to look at Neen.
Neen could see that Nekka was pleased.
"I must admit the program is controversial. Talking with the males, treating them as more than pieces of flesh. Some within the government don't see the point. Even women classified to breed often don't see these males as anything more than objects meant to further the species and create gloriously enhanced female progeny. The idea that men would have real—" Nekka stopped suddenly.
Neen could see color rising to the old woman's cheeks. It was surprising to see Nekka lose any composure, even something as innocuous as this. But it was clear that the councilwoman had said more than she intended. Neen wondered what to make of it.
Nekka turned to the window again. "I'm proposing a beta version of a new program," she continued, her voice resuming its measured and dispassionate quality. "Psychological profiling for all males designated breeding class three or higher. To be done here in High City before the commencement of the breeding trials. Profilers have the authority to designate males as unfit for breeding based on several mental and emotional factors. This will help us avoid so many rejections during actual breeding." She moved from the window back to the door of Neen's sterile, bleached apartment. "I've selected you to take the lead on this project. A complete dossier has been uploaded to your tablet with all the necessary data."
Neen was surprised. Her academic work wasn't focused on psychology. Planning, infrastructure, systems engineering, biochemistry: these were the things she had studied. She expected an assignment in government or science, something that would challenge her intellect. But talking to the males? Getting to know them and making judgments about them? Why her?
"Hesitant?" Nekka asked, that thin smile curling the corners of her lips again.
"No, it's just—"
"You'll be alone in the room with them," Nekka continued, not waiting for Neen to finish. "It's the only way we can get a true read on their psychological state."
Nekka waited for Neen's objections, but the younger woman said nothing.
"Most Triversers wouldn't take on this assignment. Too dangerous." Nekka let the implications of her statement hang in the air.
Neen jutted her chin. "I'm not most Triversers."
Nekka let out a little bark of a laugh. "I didn't think so."
Neen didn't let Nekka see her hands start to quiver. Being alone in a room with a male was something only breeding women did.
But still, Neen had to admit her fascination. Her mind drifted back to her younger days as a child, when she would often steal glimpses of the pre-pubescent males in Young Dome. They didn't look particularly happy, but then, why should they? They were de facto prisoners, kept under constant surveillance, intended only for breeding purposes. Did they accept their lot in life? Did they have any feelings beyond their rudimentary biological needs?
Neen had wanted a challenge. Perhaps this was it.
"Well?" Nekka said, standing in the doorway.
Neen took a deep breath. "I accept."
"Good." Nekka nodded. Neen caught a glimmer of satisfaction in the councilwoman's eyes. "Very good. I look forward to your first report." This time, Nekka held out her palms for the customary salutation.
Neen clasped them.
"Together," both women said in unison.
The door slid closed, and Neen went to the couch to sit down. Her networked screen was still facedown on the table.
"I wanted a challenge," she said to herself, sighing. But she didn't pick up the screen. She probably should've started studying for this new assignment — after all, the males were arriving tomorrow from the clan lands — but something held her back. She kept replaying the conversation with Nekka in her mind.
The males were dangerous. Everyone knew that. But if the demographic data was confirmed, if they were struggling to get women to mate with the males, then something needed to be done. Neen liked the idea that she could help, that by doing this work she could make things better for the women who were able to breed. Women like Ems.
Neen was just about to pick up her screen when another knock came on the door. Perhaps Nekka forgot something. She glanced around the room, but all she could see was her cold herbal tea on the sofa table. Neen went to answer the door.
"Herria!" Neen blurted out. "I mean, councilwoman Herria, welcome." Neen stepped aside to let the Sixter high council member enter.
Two council women in one night? Looks like the tea would stay where it was.
Herria Skalon swept into the room, all energy and enthusiasm. She smiled warmly at Neen and offered her hands for the customary greeting.
"Congratulations!" Herria said, taking Neen into a friendly embrace after they finished clasping hands. "I just heard about your new assignment. I'm excited to see what comes of this. You're more than ready for the challenge, that much is assured."
Herria made herself at home in Neen's sitting room. She glanced at the facedown screen and almost reached for it, but then she looked back at Neen.
"Nekka tried to keep things under wraps, just for security's sake, but I managed to needle it out of one of her clerks. Tell me, tell me, what do you think of this whole program? Any possibility of success?" Herria's charm was contagious, like children’s laughter on a warm summer day. Her broad, blinding smile and easy nature were designed to put people at ease. Despite her rather shocking head of ice-blonde hair, closely cropped, she exuded both strength and compassion. She patted the sofa for Neen to sit down.
"Well," Neen began, unsure how to proceed. Even though Herria seemed enthusiastic, Neen thought she noticed a slight twitch in the other woman's lips. "I haven't gone over the dossier yet, but I do think it makes sense to screen the males more thoroughly before their competition and eventual breeding."
"Indeed it does!" added Herria, widening her smile more.
The slight twitch was still there. A crack in the facade.
"So," Neen continued, "I should probably get to work." She picked up her networked screen.
"But I wonder," Herria continued, her face looking overly thoughtful, like someone who had just entertained a disturbing idea. "If the beta program works out, then we'll most likely increase the program, assign more women to profile these males, invest more resources into it. More and more women sitting in rooms with males and talking to them. Not for breeding, just for… talking. Seems an awful effort, don't you think?"
"I suppose, but if it makes women feel safer with their breeding partners, then isn't that a good thing?"
"Only if you think we can continue forever with this breeding nonsense." Herria said it with a twinkle in her eye, as if she were sharing a private joke with Neen.
Neen could feel the pull of Herria's personality. There was something intriguing about the way the councilwoman made her feel as if she were part of an inner circle, part of something intimate.
"We'd all be better off without these troublesome males!" Herria added, shaking her head but ruefully smiling.
"Yes, breeding does present its challenges," Neen tried to agree. She wasn't sure what Herria was implying. "It would be a benefit if we could figure out how to keep developing our genetic enhancements without all the fuss of intercourse with the males."
"Not just intercourse, my dear," Herria replied. "It's the males themselves, don't you think? Storing them, guarding them, raising them in Young Dome. We need to feed them, clothe them, keep them alive, and for what? So they can breed with us and advance the female race. Hardly an efficient system."
Neen couldn't argue about the inefficiencies, but what was Herria suggesting? The competitions and breeding sessions were a hassle, it was true, but even if they could figure out how to keep their genetic enhancements without old-fashioned breeding, they would still need to do something with the males, they couldn't just.
Could they?
Neen felt her skin prickle. No, she thought, that's impossible. That's not what councilwoman Herria means. It couldn't be.
"Would you mind keeping me abreast of how your assignment goes?" Herria said, leaning in toward Neen in that conspiratorial, ingratiating way of hers. She put her hand on Neen's and squeezed it with affection. "I'm just concerned all that contact with the males might have a negative effect on your well-being," Herria continued. "I don't want to see anything happen to you."
Neen tried to smile, but Herria's words from earlier still rang in her head. It's the males themselves, don't you think? We'd all be better off without them.
"Yes, definitely," Neen said suddenly, trying to appear calm. "I'll let you know how it goes."
"Keep me informed," Herria said again.
"Yes. I will."
"Good."
Herria was gone almost as quickly as she came. That was typical of the Sixter high councilwoman, Neen thought. Everyone knew Herria was a ball of energy, a dynamic presence. Such a contrast to tight-lipped, buttoned-up, deliberative Nekka.
Neen slumped on her couch feeling exhausted. She looked at the darkness falling over High City like a blanket. She wasn't sure why she'd just lied to the councilwoman, but she had.
When it came to her new assignment with the males, Neen had no intention of telling Herria anything.
EVE is the new world, ruled by women for women. Separated into different clans, the women breed for genetic strength; ensuring that only the strongest, cleverest, fastest are born to further the human race. There is next to no crime and war is none-existent. Society is perfect - or it would be if there were no more males. Indeed, any males who are unfortunate enough to be born are reared in Domes, injected with a chip that will kill them if they try to escape the one-way glass walls they're imprisoned in. They must compete to prove their worth for the opportunity to breed with the women. Except, some women want to cut that small inconvenience from their lives, making males more or less defunct. And if they can't even uphold their basic function, then what use is there for them at all?
With strong characters, The Female Breeders is an absolute joy to read. Horev has written some women who are remarkable, intelligent, empathetic and morally grey. Likewise, she's written men who have heart, humour and depth of feeling. Unlike other 'men-are-the-enemy' dystopian society tropes, this one has a bit more heart. The narrative isn't just from one gender's perspective, aimed at satisfying the stereotypes that are bountiful in the sub-genre. It's refreshing and a veritable page-turner.
As Neen (young prodigy, early graduate and favoured by the High Councilwomen) begins her new deployment in determining the psychological suitability for the breeding programme, she begins to realise that not everything in EVE is as perfect as their leaders suggest. She uncovers the brutality that the males in Young Dome are subjected to, and is horrified by their treatment. And, when her best friend, Ems, unwittingly discovers a conspiracy hidden in plain sight, Neen knows that something must be done to stop the possible genocide of every man in the world.
S. A.