by Tanya Allan
• Who wouldn’t know about shoes?
• Native Americans…not any more.
• Hippies…not many left.
• Aliens
• African tribesmen…not many in New Mexico.
• South American Indians….the same.
• Aliens
• More aliens………….shit.
Steve stared at the bit of paper. He reached for the phone.
Mike stirred. He opened his eyes. He was lying on a bed, with a thin sheet covering him.
The room was in semi-darkness, but a faint light seemed to glow from the top corners of the walls, where they joined the ceiling. There was enough light to see.
As his eyes adjusted, he could see no furniture in the room at all. He figured he was in hospital, as he guessed that his heart had probably given out. He could see no heart monitor, and there were no drips attached to his arms.
His brain was still in molasses, and he had a problem trying to form thoughts. Images and stray thoughts flitted in and out like butterflies in a beautiful flower garden. He formed an image of his badge, focussing on that image. He was a cop, so he thought that he could cope with anything.
He moved his head, becoming aware of a strange sensation about his head and ears. The small movement made him feel nauseous and he stayed still for a moment, just looking at the ceiling. He frowned, as he knew that normally his eyesight would mean the ceiling would be out of focus, yet he managed to focus perfectly. He smiled; maybe his eyesight had improved through the experience.
He raised an arm to his head, but felt panic as he touched a vast mane of hair sprouting from his head.
“What the fuck?” he said, aloud.
The sound of his voice also startled him, for gone was the deep bass he was accustomed to, and in its place was a melodic but definitely feminine soprano.
He gently sat up, leaning on his elbows, experiencing a moment’s nausea and dizziness. Thankfully, the sick feeling passed, but as the sheet fell away to his waist, he felt a slight chill. He raised his right hand to his chest. His hand froze as soon as it came into contact with his chest, and very slowly he looked down. A feeling of shock and disbelief grew from the pit of his stomach, as his eyes adjusted properly to the poor light.
That poor light was sufficient for him to see that his hand was now cupping one of a pair of substantial, yet perfectly formed female breasts, which his chest now sported, with large nipples and deep brown aureoles.
It was a feeling of surreal detachment he watched as his forefinger and thumb gently rolled the hardening nipple, and a strange feeling of pleasure seemed to well up deep within him.
Slowly, with racing heart, he pulled the sheet away from his groin with his other hand. He dropped it onto the floor, staring in disbelief at his crotch.
There, with a gentle covering of fine golden pubic hair was a perfectly formed vagina. He moved his legs, and was strangely unsurprised to see they were beautifully shaped and very feminine. He swung these lovely limbs over the edge of the bed, and stood on his pair of now trembling legs. He had seen beautiful women in his time; indeed, his wife Carol had been stunning in her youth. He knew he was now looking down at the most magnificent example of female beauty, but from the inside!
Somehow, someone had managed to make him dream that he was an incredibly stunning female.
The light became brighter, a door opened, and he saw everything in stark clarity. In total shock, he looked up and saw the monsters that entered the room.
The girl who had once been Sergeant Mike Dunwoody fainted.
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They looked at the unconscious woman on the floor by the bed.
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Mike came round again. She was back on the bed and the lights were on. She raised her arm to her breast again. She felt first the right one, and then the left. She let her hand slide down to her crotch, and delicately allowed her fingers to encounter the soft female flesh she encountered. She smiled.
She was still naked, yet a sheet covered her. She felt slightly light-headed and had a feeling that she was supposed to remember something, but it was illusively beyond her recall. She allowed herself to pinch a small piece of flesh on her inner thigh.
“Ow. Fuck, that hurt. Shit, this is one hell of a dream,” she said aloud and in a girl’s voice. It wasn’t a dream.
She remembered that she was a girl. Had she always been a girl? She frowned, as her brain was playing tricks.
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“Who’s there?” she said, turning round.
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“Where are you?”
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Mike realised that somehow they were talking directly into her head.
“I’m a girl?” she asked, half a statement and half question. It sounded stupid even to her ears, as the evidence was overwhelming.
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Some memories returned, but in no specific order.
“How come? Last time I looked I was a man,” she said, wondering why she felt she ought to be really worried, and yet she wasn’t.
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It made sense, of sorts, but she was still confused. She tried to make some order of her maelstrom of memories. There was a river, a flash flood, and the pain. She remembered the pains in her, no his chest. She looked down to her new and very female chest.
“Why with a girl’s?” she asked.
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“What reasons?” asked Mike, getting slightly angry now. She wanted straight answers, but they were avoiding providing them.
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Mike remembered the monsters and sat up, wrapping the sheet under her arms and over her magnificent breasts.
The door opened and a figure walked in and stood at the end of the bed.
It was about 4’5” and naked. It was grey with wrinkled skin. Two large dark eyes stared at Mike, making her feel very uncomfortable. The head was bald and there were small ears, nose and mouth. The build was as a child’s, but the limbs were slender and the fingers long and appeared sensitive. Strangely enough, she was neither afraid nor that shocked, so she wondered whether they had managed to brainwash her into accepting the situation.
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“I’m not afraid. If you wanted to harm me you would have hardly gone to all this trouble first,” she said.
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Mike frowned, but then she remembered the figure in the water.
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The door opened and another similar creature entered. The skin looked slightly less wr
inkled, but Mike was hard pressed to tell them apart.
<> the new-comer projected.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Mike said.
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The two creatures held the sides of their heads and appeared in some discomfort.
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Mike frowned, how the hell do you whisper in your mind?
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The two creatures reeled under the mental shout that Mike unwittingly unleashed.
They recovered, but Mike took the time to take stock of the situation. She was female and, by the look of things, not unattractive, although she had yet to look in a mirror. Hell, alive was alive, and the chest pains had gone. She remembered waking up the first time, and the shock she had experienced at discovering she was now a girl. Why did she not feel so worried any more?
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Mike, or Michelle, as whom she decided she ought to think of herself, stopped panicking.
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The creatures stared at her. Clearly they did not understand.
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The captain looked vacant.
“I have a token, it’s either a metal coin, a paper bill, or a piece of plastic, but it means that I give you the value of the chicken, so you can use that value to get your pot from someone else, and so on.>>
The captain understood, and a few seconds later, another alien appeared.
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There were two $20 bills.
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The third alien left, returning a few moments later. It passed over two more $20 bills. They were exact copies of the originals, even down to the serial numbers.
Michelle examined them, finding her eyesight was far better than before. She was able to focus real close, so it was almost as if she was able to magnify without artificial aids.
The bills were perfect.
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Michelle was staggered. The creatures had handed her youth and all these other qualities. Just because she saved a life. Then she thought of Carol and the kids. A deep sadness fell on her and she found herself crying.
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Michelle stopped crying and looked at the three aliens.
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Her mind was an open book to them, and now they could read her mind. It was a very different mind, and they saw intricacies they never imagined. Concepts so alien to them that they were baffled. The Captain was determined to learn more from this human.
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They obviously did not have such a thing, but they made one, and brought it to her.
She took a deep breath and looked at her reflection.
She gasped.
She was stunningly beautiful.
Large blue eyes set at a perfect distance apart, a pretty nose, ever so slightly turned up at the end; a lovely mouth, with full lips and perfect white teeth. The face was heart shaped, with high cheekbones, which gave her a slightly exotic Nordic look. She had perfectly shaped ears, and cascades of wavy golden blonde hair fell past her shoulders.
There was nothing in her reflection that was of Mike, except perhaps that cynical glint in the baby blue eyes.
“Well if I gotta be a girl, then let’s at least have looks and a body to die for,” she said.
She looked at her fingers. They were long and slender, with perfectly formed nails. Her sight was such that she could clearly see the whorls and ridges of her fingerprints, and a thought popped into her mind.
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She frowned, as all the disquiet she had experienced initially had gone, and in its place was a kind of excited expectancy. She thought about the ease by which she accepted all this.
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She looked at the $20 bills, and then at the aliens.
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Michelle thought for a moment. She was frowning as she tried to work out the most effective means of creating a brand new identity that could not draw undue attention to herself.
The Captain watched her and was concerned, as the human naturally managed to shield her thoughts from them, and even the most powerful mind on the ship was unable to penetrate her defences. It indicated that her mind, as yet untried and still immature, actually had unlimited potential. That could turn out to be exceptionally dangerous for the Captain, the ship and the entire alien race.
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The large dark eyes of the Captain stared unblinking at her for many moments.
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Relief flooded through the Captain, and this emanated to the others in the ship, as all had been mentally tuned in with equal concern.
<> the Captain stated, and the large human held her hand out.
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The Captain offered his long slender hand, which she took gently as they solemnly shook hands.
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Michelle sat in a seat designed for someone far smaller, watching a small flat screen TV with a faintly blue hue. The sheet from the bed was fashioned into a crude sarong, and she was drinking some water from a clear plastic-like bottle.