There could be little doubt that the twenties was the decade that saw the rise of women. All across the world sexual politics suffered a shake up of earthquake proportions. What followed after the end of this decade of upheaval however in the tiny central European state of Ausitania made the world sit up and take notice of the new power of women. Prior to 2030 the odd country had experienced women at the heart of government, but what occurred in that first year of the new decade was something of entirely different proportions.
Monika Novotny's gold medal in the 2028 Los Angeles Olympics brought her worldwide acclaim. Ausitania had never before won a medal of any sort, but her victory in the triathlon event brought her pop star status. She was everywhere in the worldwide media. They fought tooth and nail to get interviews with this latest sensation. The Taylor Swift phenomenon of the previous decade was truly eclipsed. Like Ms. Swift her appearance helped. At one metre seventy five, an attractive brunette with a powerful, athletic build she was a telegenic gift for the TV stations who knew that gaining an interview would be guaranteed to boost ratings, and thereby advertising revenues.
Monika was on the screens for days, speaking in fluent English with an accent that many assumed was Dutch, but in fact stemmed from the tiny landlocked state of a million and a half that existed largely on tourism, winegrowing and quarrying. Throughout the twenties violence towards women and girls had driven the agenda. Monika Novotny had become a major contributor to the debate, speaking confidently to camera, she was a natural performer as well as a world class sportswoman. It was no great surprise therefore when the newly formed Ausitanian government appointed her as their Minister of Justice.
Legislation passed over the next three months dealt with domestic violence and coercive control. The courts were given radical powers to deal with miscreants, the prison system reformed and the police force encouraged to recruit more women. Monika Novotny regularly appeared on the state TV channel. In one interview she promised that she would be "Hands On". Male criminals would, over the coming months, find that this would be no idle boast.
In August 2029 A thousand kilometres to the west in the offices of The Sunday Courier newspaper a meeting was taking place between Alex Morgan and his editor Donald Harrington. The latter, a dour Scot with a florid, pockmarked face stubbed out his ninth cigarette of the day, it was a little after ten a.m. Twenty years after the smoking ban his office remained an oasis of fug in a smoke free world. At sixty two Harrington was too old a dog to embrace new tricks. He was currently in a rant about Ausitania.
"These bloody women seem to have their men by the balls. Now we have a government bringing in these draconian laws, it political correctness gone doo bloody lally."
The breaking news that morning was a report by Amnesty International that alleged the mistreatment of prisoners. Initially carried by the BBC, an organisation that Harrington had never had a good word for, in this case he seemed prepared to make an exception.
"Damned good work. The sooner these harridans are hounded out and responsible government restored the better."
Alex Morgan spotted an opportunity. Had Harrington realised how much time his features writer spent watching videos of women dressed in black leather beating men black and blue his answer to the suggestion that he go to investigate might have been very different. As it was Alex's proposal that he take a research trip was immediately agreed to and signed off. Within the hour Alex had booked his flight, leaving the office early to pack his bags with a feeling of considerable excitement about what lay ahead of him.
The Friday morning flight from Gatwick to Libovice International departed on time. Just over ninety minutes later Alex felt the clunk as the undercarriage of the brand new Boeing 797 Electric locked into place as the airliner silently crossed the Hungarian border on its final approach. The plane was packed with the usual suspects, a party of girls on a hen weekend and several groups of lads drawn by the prospect of cheap alcohol for which the bars of Libovice had become well known. Alex checked into his hotel and prepared to find out first hand the truth about the alleged abuses of prisoners taking place across Ausitania.
Leaving his hotel on the outskirts of the city Alex took a taxi into the centre. "The Old City" as it was known dated from medieval times and was a huddle of higgledy piggledy medieval houses crowded in upon each other with their jettied upper floors preventing the sunlight from penetrating apart from a short period either side of midday. This was the area where all the nightlife congregated, one of the most popular tourist bars being the U Kalicha. As well as being popular this was also where most of the trouble occurred with those who had had too much to drink.
Veronika Tomasek and Liza Moresecki were out on patrol. Both were dressed in the new uniforms of tight fitting black leather bodysuits and laced calf length combat boots that lent them the fearsome look of SWAT team members. Buckled around their waists heavy leather belts held the tools of their trade, pepper sprays, taser gun, rigid handcuffs and extendable steel batons.
The call came in just before midnight. Veronika and Liza were sitting in their patrol car two streets away. Both were tall and athletic, Veronika a brunette, her partner a stunning redhead. Veronika slipped her radio back into the belt clip. When they arrived at the nightclub both men were dancing on a table, clearly drunk. One of them was in the act of exposing himself to a group of female German tourists. At the first sign of his non compliance to her order to get down from the table Veronika drew her taser from its holster. Liza saw the look of sheer horror on the man's face as her partner raised the gun and squeezed the trigger. The two steel wires snaked towards him, hitting the soft flesh of his stomach. His thin shirt did little to ameliorate the effect of the high voltage shock.
Its effect was instant, causing him to topple to the floor. He lay there, his muscles twitching as the fascinated band of revellers looked on. The second man meekly surrendered himself, anxious to avoid the fate that had just befallen his friend. Quickly the two officers shackled their prisoners into the steel cuff sets that were designed to cause severe pain to anyone who struggled. A police van soon arrived and the men were locked in the back before being driven the short distance to Prochody the grey, forbidding three century old castle on the city outskirts that served as the main jail.
Since the passing of new legislation the long winded process of booking in prisoners before sending them for trial had been streamlined. All that was now required for offences such as minor civil disorder and domestic violence was for two officers to put their signatures on a statement confirming that the arrested person was guilty of the crimes. In this manner both Petr Horinek and Anton Janacek had automatic fourteen day sentences ratified. There was no right of appeal.
In addition to these new powers arresting officers were allowed. maybe even encouraged to provide what was euphemistically referred to as "Re-education." This gave them a great deal of leeway. Lucky prisoners were simply forgotten and whiled away two weeks in one of the bare, uncomfortable cells. A fold down board provided a very basic bed, hinged out from the wall on a chain, a coarse grey blanket the only concession to comfort. Food was an unappetising mess of grey porridge doled out twice a day in metal trays. Janacek was however not going to fall into this "lucky" category. Veronika Tomasek had suffered abuse from previous partners and was not well disposed towards wayward male members of society.
Ausitania was a tiny landlocked state, not quite European, not quite Balkan. It occupied just a few hundred square kilometres of mainly forested, gently rolling countryside. The wine industry was much expanded in recent times, utilising the southern uplands, possessing a climate ideal for the purpose. The new government had implemented a streamlining of the state run vineyards by using long term prisoners as labour. Working ten hours a day, seven days a week, parties toiled in the fields under the supervision of female guards, trained to rule with a rod of iron.
Any prisoner foolishly stepping out of line found himself dealt with extremely harshly by the robust young women overseers. Applications for these jobs were many times oversubscribed with only the toughest selected. This had resulted in extreme discipline being maintained. Each vineyard had a whipping frame, always prominently displayed for its deterrent effect. The heavy leather straps riveted to the sturdy beams of the "A" shaped frame hung ready and waiting to bind the limbs of any miscreant who might step out of line. Ironically it was the produce of the vineyards that supported the economy that was also the source of most of the trouble in the bars. The crisp white wine sold in large quantities, a traditional heavy stone litre carafe costing just a few Ausitanian shillings and was sufficient to put the average man under the table.
The two officers filled in their arrest forms.
"Horinek is just a fool." Observed Liza.
Her partner nodded her agreement.
"But did you hear the foul mouthed sexist rant from Janacek when we took him out of the cage? I have a good mind to up the charge from drunkenness to disrespect of an officer."
She smiled as she ticked the relevant box on his arrest form. It was such a simple system since the law had been reformed, a mere stroke of the pen to upgrade the crime with which he was charged to a full blown criminal offence that brought with it a much harsher punishment as well as a criminal record.
