Science fiction; Sex role -- Fiction; Short stories
As she hugged me triumphantly to her surging bosom, I understood. They
were after me.
Me.
Two dozen women, chasing after me. And I was still not really fully
conscious from my long stay under suspended animation.
_Maybe I'm dreaming!_ I thought.
No. No dream. I was at least wide-awake enough to tell that. The women
were battling furiously; I was being shunted back and forth from one
to another. I was starting to feel like a plaything. So I struck back.
I landed a fist in a tough, unyielding female stomach, then splatted a
hand into a pair of lovely lips. I was fighting for my life now; they
were threatening to smother me. Two of them got me down, while a third
grabbed one arm and tried to drag me away.
Suddenly I heard a loud voice yell, "_Stop!_" And an instant later,
everything stopped. Completely. None of us could move a muscle. I was
locked in the embrace of a wild-looking but rather lovely blonde, whose
face was frozen in an expression of glee.
Only my eyes could move. I rolled them around and saw a woman in regal
panoply stalking majestically toward us. She held a small metal weapon
in her hand.
"You've all behaved _disgracefully_!" she said ringingly. She clicked
the weapon at us a second time and the stasis broke. The horde of women
picked themselves up and stood staring sheepishly at the floor. The
Queen--for her rank seemed obvious--swept imperiously toward me.
"Are you the Sleeper?" she demanded.
"I believe so, your majesty."
"Excellent. Come to my chamber at once. The rest of you remand
yourselves to the guardhouse, for punishment. Follow me, male!"
* * * * *
As I followed her up the long corridor, I was struck by the humor of
the situation. I had volunteered for the Somno-casket project after the
bustup of my engagement; feeling that there was no place for me in the
world of the twentieth century and that I wasn't much interested in
continuing to live in it. I grabbed at a straw and let myself be tucked
away in suspended animation, as a guinea-pig. The scientists of five
hundred years from now would revive me, and I would be a living man
from the distant past.
So I had awakened. But in the intervening five centuries, while I
slumbered under my time-lock, my casket had been shifted from Professor
Ostrov's laboratory to this--this madhouse of furious amazons, and I
was now apparently playing Adam to a few dozen Eves.
And now the queen bee herself had grabbed me off. Two guards prodded
me from behind, and the Queen strutted ahead of me toward her private
chambers. What waited for me there, I didn't know.
I wasn't to find out, either. Because as we came to a bend in the
corridor, two men stepped out of nowhere. Men--real males.
I was so astonished to see another unshaven face again that I froze and
glared at them goggle-eyed. One of the men turned to me and said, "Help
us! We're here to rescue you!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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