Ex-Patriots: Book Overview

In the year 2385, the world had finally achieved what centuries of strife, inequality, and conflict had sought to correct—a society in balance. The population was mostly-female, and this matriarchy had leveled the social playing field after centuries ruled by the male sex. Relationships formed not out of necessity or social pressure, but out of true connection, with love and partnership thriving across all genders and orientations.

The world hummed with peace. Every citizen, upon reaching adulthood, was guaranteed a home. No one feared losing the roof over their head or their dignity to poverty. Corporations, once the looming giants that ruled entire nations, had been reined in by the government, stripped of the power to exploit housing or sway political decisions. Wages rose steadily with inflation, ensuring that every person could afford a decent life.

This world had never known war. There were no guns, no armies. Police worked for the people, not against them, and even the need for tasers was rare. Violence was a thing of history, and disputes were resolved through mediation and dialogue. The Supreme Court operated on strict term limits, ensuring fresh perspectives, and the president was chosen by popular vote, a far cry from the manipulated systems of the past. Ever since this new structure was created, there had never again been a male president. 

A cornerstone of this society’s fabric was its unique handling of the male population, a small minority who, once born, were immediately integrated into the social structure but with specific expectations. At the age of fifteen, each male was required to take a rigorous morality and psychological assessment. This test was no mere formality—it was designed to evaluate empathy, emotional intelligence, impulse control, and a deep understanding of respect for all individuals. They are tested once at fifteen, then at twenty-five, and if they don't pass, are sent to Australia where they undergo rigorous training before reintegration. 

Zeke had just turned fifteen and was about to take his first test, the Fifteen Test. Boys lived under structured but fair expectations. They attended weekly therapy sessions designed to explore emotions, dismantle harmful societal conditioning, and create strong bonds with their female peers. Crying circles were frequent and welcomed. It was a way to express feelings society had once taught men to suppress—a legacy that had caused wars, violence, and suffering in the long-forgotten past. These circles were about healing, where vulnerability was celebrated, not shamed.

Zeke’s favorite part of his week was “Playtime,” a series of physical games designed to channel male energy into something productive. Alongside other boys, he scaled walls, ran obstacle courses, and wrestled with the kind of wild abandon that left them all laughing. The games were exhausting but joyful, reminding him of how the world could be challenging yet safe, competitive yet supportive.

The friendships he formed with girls were equally important. In fact, it was a requirement for each boy to have at least three close female friendships at all times, ensuring that empathy and understanding flowed both ways. He was closest to his childhood friend, Ella, a brilliant engineer who always beat him at chess, and Lina, who could paint entire galaxies with a brush. Their friendship was the bedrock of his emotional life, grounding him in a way that felt natural, a give-and-take of support.

The idea of failing the test haunted every boy to some degree. If they passed the first set of trials, at twenty-five, they would be re-evaluated, and should they not meet society’s standards of emotional and moral stability after either test, they’d be sent to Australia for years of rehabilitation, a place free of punishment but steeped in deep therapy and self-reflection. It was a system that acknowledged the potential for growth, for change, and avoided the cruelty of permanent exclusion. But some of the boys felt they were treated with more unfairness than kindness and didn't feel their rehabilitation was necessary at all. A faction of the males on Australia, known colloquially as "ex-pats",  had other plans for the future, and their exclusion from society was a wound that cut deeper than anyone ever imagined. 

The future held its challenges, but it was one where everyone had a chance to grow, to thrive, and to find their place. Even Zeke, with his doubts and his hopes, knew he would be ready to take the test. After all, this was a world that believed in second chances - right?