Diggory knew he was in trouble. His simulacrum stood side by side with his opponent’s in a shifting cloud of light; two faceless, gray men floating in a sea of velvet pinpricks. They were representations, of course, zeros and ones stored on a server somewhere in cyberspace. Each point of light represented the vote of one member, and Diggory’s solid sheen of red had been shifting inexorably towards green throughout the debate. Nothing could be more important, for he who presided over the super-secret Order of The Privileges of Man controlled the destiny of millions of hapless females, while bettering the state of Man. True names were never used. Diggory’s handle was One of All. His opponent: Lightening Rod.
There were four minutes left before the vote became fixed. Trouble was, Diggory had nothing to argue. He had come here expecting swift confirmation. After all, he was the chosen candidate for the Glorium party, founders of the Order of The Privileges of Man. Everyone knew they had the best interests of man at heart. This Lightening Rod didn’t even have party affiliation!
“My friends,” Diggory said, trying to exude confidence. “Sex with more women. Sex with younger women. Sex without commitment. This has been the goal of our secret organization for more than 100 years. We, the Gloriums, have done more to further these noble goals than even Gloria Steinem, for whom our party is named. What is more, we have managed to convince women that, by becoming the sexual aggressors, by forgoing foreplay (Diggory smiled at his own wordplay) and eschewing marriage, they have taken power away from men!”
He turned up his auditory receptors to savor the laughter from thousands of Privileges members. More lights flashed red. Diggory’s hopes soared.
“It was the Glorium party, after all, that convinced parents that government should be responsible for teaching Sex Education, this being such a sticky subject to initiate. Thus we unhitched generations of young women from tedious moral hang-ups taught by out-dated parental, or worse, church-based morality.” He pressed a button on his belt and a graph showing sex education spending from 1970 to 2090 shimmered into view. “Notice how the increase in federal sex education spending almost perfectly coincides with increased promiscuity.” Two shimmering graphs overlapped. “Since my party first set the Order of Privileges of Man in motion, more people have been doing more partners, beginning at a younger age. And, as we predicted, as celebrities became infected with STD’s, more money has been spent on drug research, mitigating that niggling issue. Thus the concerns of our more timid members have proven unfounded. My friends, I will continue in the fine tradition of the Glorium party. If Gloria Steinem were still alive and aware of our organization, I am sure she would vote for me.” His final joke swung large swaths of lights to red. Diggory had a commanding lead.
The newcomer’s simulacrum darkened, indicating his turn to speak.
“No one denies the successes of the Gloriums,” Lightening Rod began. “But promiscuity levels have stalled. Women are actually waiting longer to have first intercourse than twelve years ago, and despite your recent efforts, they still view beer-belly blubber as a turn off.”
There was something odd about Lightening Rod, something familiar. Diggory wondered if he might actually know this person in realbody. The thought was disturbing. After all, the Privileges of Man had managed to remain anonymous for a hundred and twenty years.
“Your order reveres Gloria Steinem. Well, Steinem’s motto was, ‘A woman needs man like a fish needs a bicycle.’ She and other feminists taught women to become sexual predators, to reject family values and relish inhibition. But I have news for you, the efforts of this order has actually made you dependent on women.”
Most of the lights flashed off. Nobody seemed to know what to think. Back in realbody, Diggory heard his girlfriend flick off the VidCaster. Thank goodness this was nearly over! It wouldn’t do to let Yvonne see him hooked in to the Simulacrum Generator. Too many awkward questions.
Lightening Rod continued, “The Gloriums have led us into a neat little trap. We still need women. In fact, this need defines the order. It is time for a change.”
To Diggory’s astonishment, green dots began to light up in fits and spurts, while red remained noticeably absent. He broke all protocol and shouted, “We need women, sure. And a fisherman needs fish, but which one gets hooked?”
His microphone snapped off. In his ear, speakers announced, “You have spoken out of turn. You will no longer be able to influence these proceedings.”
“My friends,” Lightening Rod said, “I’m talking about eliminating the need for women altogether. I’m talking about making Gloria Steinem’s dream come true in reverse. I’m talking about womb implants.”
Diggory’s legs buckled. More lights turned green. This couldn’t be happening!
“Members take heart,” Lightening Rod said. “The technology is here. The days of dependence are over. With a simple implant, you can procreate, justify mood swings, qualify for maternity leave and even experience multiple orgasms. All without the burden of women.”
Through Diggory’s stunned ears: thunderous applause. The lights waxed a nearly unanimous green. The Privileges of Man had elected a new president.
“Honey,” Yvonne called, “You all right in there?”
Diggory closed the simulacrum connection with trembling hands. He removed the sensor pads from his body and stuffed them in the desk drawer. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. The whole order had been turned upside down in a matter of minutes. The Gloriums had been swept away. Thousands of men would undoubtedly rush to follow the new president’s lead.
“Dig?”
“Yes Yve. I’m OK. Just got some bad news, that’s all.”
Diggory shuffled from the den to the living room. Yvonne was pumping her elliptical machine vigorously. She had short, blond hair cut in a bowl. Her face, especially her button nose, was so cute the haircut actually worked. She wore short shorts and a tight, pink top. Sweat glistened on her forehead and her cleavage. Normally Yvonne’s sweaty body would be enough to take Diggory’s mind off his troubles, but not tonight. A twelve-pack and drug-enhanced boner might not be enough. He shuffled over and collapsed on the couch.
Yvonne stopped pumping, stepped off the machine and began pulling electronic pads from under her shirt, on her thighs, on her butt. Her breathing didn’t seem terribly strained.
“Testing your cardio?” he asked.
She shook her head and smiled. When Yvonne was happy she had a way of grinning with one side of her mouth that Diggory found irresistible. She joined him and draped her leg across his lap. Heat poured from her in waves. “Looks like you’ve been struck by lightening,” she said, stroking his forehead.
His fingers chilled. That voice, the simulacrum…
“Dig, I’ve just found out I’m pregnant,” she said.
“But you…you’re…”
“Yes Dig, you can call me Rod. And since the Order has changed, I’ve decided not to carry our baby to term.”
“You’re not?”
“No Diggory, you are.”
