After Some Tomorrow

In Short

Set in a rugged, post-apocalyptic Colorado, this story follows Alan, the sole "husband" of the Wolf clan. In a world where fertile men are vanishingly rare and women organize themselves into warring, insular clans, Alan struggles against the narrow, tradition-bound survival tactics of his people. When his clan is raided, Alan is forced to take up arms—an act considered both scandalous and "unmanly"—to prevent total annihilation. It is a stark, tense examination of gender roles and the desperation of a dying civilization clinging to destructive traditions.

The Story

Alan serves as the husband to the Wolf clan, a small group of women living in a fortified citadel. The social order is absolute: women are the warriors, hunters, and decision-makers, while the few men are either "sterilies" or the clan’s singular, highly guarded reproductive figurehead. As Alan teaches a group of young girls about the history of their world, the sound of gunfire interrupts their lesson. The Wolf clan is under attack by a coalition of rival clans, the Horses and the Crows, who have coordinated a strike to steal the clan's husband and seize their resources.

While the Wolf warriors are pinned down in the fields, two enemy scouts infiltrate the citadel, killing the sentries and taking up positions to ambush the remaining Wolf members as they retreat. Alan, witnessing his own daughters—including his eldest, Helen—being gunned down by these invaders, snaps under the pressure. Breaking the taboo against male violence, he kills the two scouts with a heavy chair and takes command of the citadel’s mounted Bren gun. He uses the weapon to hold back the advancing enemy force, effectively saving the remnants of his clan.

When the dust settles, the clan returns, led by the fierce scout chief, Vivian. While the women are relieved to have survived, they are horrified and deeply dismissive of Alan’s "unmanly" intervention. Tensions rise as the clan debates the fate of the captured raiders. Alan, now aware that the race is nearing extinction due to a lack of fertile males, attempts to leverage his position to propose a radical shift in society. He reveals his secret communication with other clans, suggesting they abandon their tribal isolation in favor of a cooperative union that would allow for selective breeding. He argues that by sharing the few fertile men and integrating the prisoners, they might produce a new generation of fertile sons.

The clan meeting descends into chaos. While some are shaken by the reality of their demographic crisis, the matriarch, Sally, and the dominant scout, Vivian, resist the idea of sharing their husband or treating prisoners as anything other than fodder for the canyon. The conflict is brought to a sudden, violent end when Vivian, ignoring the debate entirely, returns from the stone corral to announce that she has executed all the prisoners using the stolen explosives. She dismisses Alan’s plans with patronizing affection, sending him back to his "proper" place among the children, leaving the future of the clan—and the human race—precariously tied to the very traditions that are destroying it.

How It Unfolds

The routine is broken Alan is teaching the young members of the Wolf clan when an unexpected raid begins. The attack is well-planned, designed to catch the clan's warrior-women in the fields and seize their fortress.

The citadel falls Two enemy scouts infiltrate the stronghold, killing the guards and preparing to pick off the returning warriors. Alan watches in horror as his own daughters are gunned down by the intruders.

The husband rebels Breaking generations of social conditioning, Alan kills the scouts and takes control of the clan's heavy weaponry. He forces the attackers to retreat, single-handedly preventing the destruction of his community.

The clash of ideals After the battle, Alan attempts to persuade the clan to abandon their insular, violent ways. He argues for an alliance with other clans to save the race from genetic extinction.

The final dismissal The matriarch and her lieutenants prioritize tradition over survival. The story concludes with the brutal execution of the prisoners, effectively silencing Alan’s call for reform and reinforcing the status quo.

The People

Alan is the central figure, a man who carries the crushing weight of his species' potential. He is intelligent and observant, burdened by the knowledge of how far his society has fallen from the past. He wants to save the race through logic and cooperation, but his primary obstacle is the deep-seated cultural belief that he is a prize to be protected, not a person to be heard.

Sally is the clan’s matriarch. She is a commanding, Junoesque figure who values the stability of the clan above all else. While she recognizes the danger they face, she is trapped by the same traditionalist views that Alan seeks to dismantle, leading her to prioritize social order over his radical biological proposals.

Vivian is the scout chief and the embodiment of the clan’s martial spirit. She is cold, efficient, and fiercely dismissive of Alan’s attempts to lead. She represents the immediate, short-term thinking that keeps the clan alive in the present but blinds them to their long-term demise.

Helen and the other girls represent the next generation. Though they are raised to be warriors, their tragic deaths serve as the catalyst for Alan’s desperate attempt to change the future, illustrating the high cost of the clan’s current way of life.

In Its Own Voice

"The old books told of the femininity of women, but...."

Alan reflects on the stark difference between the gender roles he reads about in history and the harsh, aggressive reality of the women in his clan.

"If you had died, in your foolhardiness, you would have been gone for all of us."

Sally explains to Alan that his life is not his own, as his death would signal the end of the entire clan.

"Alan, you're as cute as a button, but you don't know anything about women's affairs."

Vivian dismisses Alan’s plea for mercy and social change, underscoring the immovable wall of condescension he faces.

What It's Really About

At its core, this is a story about the intersection of biological desperation and rigid cultural dogmatism. The book interrogates whether a society can survive when it clings to traditions that are no longer adaptive to its environment. By reversing traditional gender roles, the narrative forces the reader to confront how power is used to silence dissent and how "decency" or "tradition" can be weaponized to maintain a failing status quo. It asks a haunting question: if a group is faced with its own extinction, is it a tragedy of circumstance, or a failure of the imagination? The book argues that when fear and dogma supersede survival instincts, a culture will willingly march toward its own end rather than change its mind.

Why Read It Today

This story will appeal to readers who enjoy speculative fiction that prioritizes social mechanics and character-driven tension over grand-scale world-building. It is a lean, punchy read that captures the claustrophobic atmosphere of a dying society. Because the text originates from the mid-1950s, the writing carries the specific, sharp-edged tone of that era’s science fiction—direct, unadorned, and often cynical about human nature.

Readers should be prepared for the book's period attitudes; the gender reversal is the primary engine of the plot, and the resulting dynamics are deliberately frustrating and occasionally uncomfortable. The characters act with a brutal logic that reflects their world, and the lack of a "triumphant" ending may leave some feeling unsettled. However, this is precisely what makes the book worth revisiting. It does not provide the comfort of a hero’s journey where the status quo is shattered; instead, it offers a chilling, thought-provoking look at the inertia of power. It stays with you not because of its action, but because of the haunting image of a man trying to save people who are actively ensuring their own destruction. It is a brief but impactful piece of fiction that challenges the reader to consider how much of our own "tradition" is simply a mask for our own stubborn refusal to adapt.