by Darrell Bain
I was finally and completely convinced when one of the Web programs we were watching was interrupted (it was showing a huge crowd waiting outside the Vatican for the Pope to come out. Rumors had spread worldwide he was getting ready to declare a miracle).
"...reliable analysis from several sources confirms what many of us have already suspected. Changes of gender conform to how a person might have developed had they been born the opposite sex. Gene analysis proves the same person who goes into a gate comes out with only the sex determinate chromosome replaced. Still unanswered is how or why the rejuvenation process takes place, though it is almost certain from these same reports that all disease producing alleles, both dominate and recessive, have been eliminated and replaced with normal genes. Stand by now for a statement from the Pope."
The Pope never did come out that day, even though the crowd grew to huge proportions. Other religious figures did. Some were for the gates, some against, but I'll get to that later.
Maybe I'm not telling this part too well. It's been a long time ago and though my memories of that first day and night are still sharp and clear, I can't recreate the emotional content of them. What still amazes me is how easily the world accepted the presence of the gates (not the reactions; those were as varied as the colors of an art program). The five of us stayed up all night watching and listening and drinking enough wine to float a yacht.
More facts emerged, coming in bits and pieces, mostly from webporters, though I thought the old networks did themselves proud. They suspended all commercials while they did their best to keep the news rolling. If you don't know what a television commercial is, look it up in the history books. It would take too many words to explain here.
I guess the best way to go about this is to just relate those facts fitting into patterns which would directly affect the five of us in years to come. We learned that every single person emerging from the gates came out with a young, perfectly healthy body, no matter how old or sick they might have been when entering. Then there were the ones who went in and didn't come out at all. A pattern soon became clear. The older and/or sicker a person was, the less chance there was of a successful emergence. Almost anyone could make it up until the age of about seventy, so long as they were in fair health, but after that, their chances declined. At eighty or so, the odds were about fifty-fifty and fell off rapidly after that. Illness lowered the probability of a successful transition; the sicker a person was, the less chance they had. Children could go through the gates and some very sick ones had, pushed into them by despairing parents willing to accept the gender change in order to save their lives. Most made it; as I said, age was a factor.
No one going into a gate a second time had ever come out and most had stopped trying.
The gates were impervious. Even the atomic bomb exploded by the Shanghai warlord did no damage. When the smoke cleared, there was the gate, sitting green and shiny at the bottom of a new crater.
In many places, the police and military had abandoned all attempts to control access to the gates other than those reserved for study by scientists. There were simply too many of them, thousands upon thousands, and most of them located in densely populated areas. Reflecting back to that time, perhaps I'm assigning a wrong motive to the governments of that era. Many of them were ruled by despots but there were plenty of democracies around, including our own. In those countries, the people made their voices heard, particularly older persons who almost immediately snapped to the possibility of renewed youth and health. Perhaps it was that factor which caused the governments to withdraw the guards, though there is no way to be sure and I can't see where it matters now anyway.
We stayed up all night and into the next day. I tried to send out to McDonald's for breakfast but their delivery service wasn't operating. Russell was the only one of us with any cooking skills worthy of the name, a peculiar talent for a graduate physicist, I always thought. He scrambled eggs and made toast for the group.
Just after we finished eating, the President came on line again. I zapped the table back into its overhead recess and we quickly sat back down on the loungers.
It wasn't much. Forbes said, more or less, what he had told the country the day before, emphasizing that scientists were still trying to communicate with the beings responsible for the gates. He assured us the government would soon announce a policy for dealing with the gates. (How the government was going to form a policy when we didn't know where the gates came from, how long they would be around, why they were here and who or what was controlling them wasn't mentioned). After that, he proclaimed a national holiday and pleaded for everyone to go back to work the following day.
Well, that part made sense. If people didn't get back to work, the whole economy would go into free fall (it did later on, but never mind).
Watching the news coming in over two screens was mesmerizing, but a body can stay awake only so long. Besides that, we were out of wine. I yawned, loud enough to drown out the screen voices for a second.
Rita sat up from where she had been half-dozing against my shoulder. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm ready for some sleep." She stretched her arms over her head and wriggled her shoulders.
"Me, too," I agreed. "If the world comes to an end, wake me up; otherwise, we'll see you later."
I guess that was the general sentiment. We shut the screens off and went to bed.
***
My house (as I had it arranged) consisted of an entrance alcove, then a big circular area containing loungers, chairs, and the bar and kitchen, with the four bedrooms with their own baths radiating out from it. Russell was sleeping alone at the time; Seyla and Don shared a room and of course, Rita and I slept together. After living in the place for awhile, I had decided that six people were about the max I wanted to have around at any one time (permanently, anyway), so I had turned the last bedroom into a study.
"God, I'm tired," Rita said as she closed our door. She stretched again. "What a day. This will be something to tell our grandchildren about."
"If we have any," I said.
"What!"
We had already agreed to have a couple of kids one day. I laughed. "The gates. Today, they're changing our genders voluntarily. Tomorrow, it might be required." My mouth was running away with my brain again.
"You wouldn't want to have my babies, is that it?" She looked perfectly serious.
The thought had never entered my mind. Me, have a baby? Become a woman? No way! I stood speechless, shirt dangling from my hand.
Rita continued undressing. She discarded her blouse and sat down on the bed to pull off her jeans. "Well?"
"Just kidding," I said weakly.
Rita stood up and stepped out of her panties. She scrutinized me curiously, like a butcher examining a side of beef. She smiled. "I wonder what you would look like as a woman? I bet you would be cute."
"I don't," I said, "and I don't ever want to find out." With my odd rust-colored hair and eyes the color of old blue jeans, I would probably look like a statue which had been left out in the rain to rust. That's not even considering how awkward I was. If Don had trouble walking, I would probably have to crawl around as a woman.
Rita raised a dark black eyebrow. "Maybe even pretty, but never mind. Let's go to bed."
That suited me. Thinking of what Derek probably did with his lovers was enough to make me vow to just die of old age rather than ever go through a gate, even if they were still around when I got to that point.
Rita snuggled up against me, resting her head on my shoulder with her breasts pressing softly against my side. Ordinarily, that's enough to get me going but for once, I wasn't in the mood, and was tired besides. She probably felt the same way because it was only a couple minutes until her breathing became slow and regular.
I stayed awake just long enough to hear someone cry out from Don and Seyla's room. I couldn't tell for certain which of them it was because of the soundproofing, but it sure didn't sound like anyone in pain.
Cha
pter Three
I woke up late that evening to sounds of the shower running. I flipped back the sheet and sat up. It was like banging my head against a brick wall. Too much wine, not enough sleep. I fumbled in the drawer of the bedside caddy and found a Nohang pill, wishing I had thought to take it before going to bed. I punched a cup of water and swallowed the pill. On second thought, I took another and washed it down with more water. My stomach rumbled a protest but they stayed put. I reached back in the drawer for cigarettes and couldn't find any. From the taste in my mouth, I was pretty sure I had smoked all I had on hand. Oh well, I thought, I was trying to quit anyway.
I stripped off my shorts and carried them into the bathroom. I must have pissed out a quart of used up wine while listening to Rita making watery sounds in the shower. I gargled with some Listerine Plus, deciding to let my teeth wait until the Nohang had time to take effect; any sooner, and I was certain that what wine hadn't come out one end, would spout from the other. I slid the far end of the shower door open and stepped inside.
I loved to see Rita naked, even with her thick lustrous hair slick with water and plastered against her neck. She is small and petite enough to make me feel as if my slim frame is taller and more muscular than it really is. Her breasts thrust out firmly from her chest, small tan nipples erect from the lukewarm water. They are barely lighter than the rest of her upper body; you could easily tell she rarely wore a swim top. She had a small waist and slim hips emphasized by a narrow strip of lighter colored skin she covered when sunbathing in public.
She had her back to me. I slipped my arms around her waist and reached up to cup her breasts. The Nohang was already beginning to work.
Rita turned around in my arms and kissed me, then said, "I didn't think you would be feeling so spry this morning."
I nuzzled her neck and ran my hands up and down her back. "Neither did I a few minutes ago."
She helped me wash. We toweled each other off and hurried back to bed. Rita wasn't like some women I've known. She was always ready for sex and never loathe to experiment. I don't know if her studies had anything to do with it, but they might have. From what I've read, modern psychology emphasizes sex more than it used to as a means of getting to know a person. I guess that makes sense, knowing how many diseases you could catch from it just a few years ago. Whatever, I was glad it wasn't much of a problem anymore. Can you imagine, people used to actually risk their lives when they had sex?
Rita treated me to a few quick lubricating licks, then slipped me inside her. She stretched out on top of me and began moving her hips while propped on her elbows. She moved slowly at first, then faster. Her breasts rubbed against my chest in time to the rhythm, nipples hardening to tight little points that stressed the greater softness beneath. I exploded inside her. She cried out and collapsed over me, shivering and mouthing short little moans of pleasure.
When she felt me softening, she rolled off and went back into the bathroom. I got up and called up the weather. The front had stalled, then dissipated. It was warm outside. I gathered up fresh jeans and a shirt and pulled them on, not bothering with a jacket. Rita came out dressed in a pink spring toga with one shoulder left bare. She slung her bag while I picked up my comphone and hung it from a loop of my jeans. Damn. I had forgotten to plug it in overnight. I checked the charge. It was still green enough to last a while. I wondered about that, then remembered I had charged it while we were eating breakfast.
Don and Seyla were already up when we came out, but Russell wasn't present.
"Is Russell still sleeping?" I asked.
Seyla pointed to the wall screen where he had left a note. Gone to the lab. See you later. Russ. I wondered what he thought he could accomplish there, though his thesis advisor would probably have something for him to do. However, Russ might go off on a tangent of his own; he's probably smarter than the whole physics department put together. Besides, every physicist in the world was probably going crazy by this time.
Don and Seyla were standing together near the door, as if we had caught them just before leaving. Don was wearing another set of Seyla's clothes, shorts and a pullover which did nothing to conceal her figure.
"'Morning, Don. 'Morning, Seyla," I said, trying for a casual approach to staunch the uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach that hit me when I saw how very thoroughly feminine Don's new body was. I had seen her naked when she first came out of the gate, but this was different. She was dressed as if she wanted to appear feminine.
"Good morning," Seyla said. "We were just leaving. Do y'all want to come along?"
"Where are you going?" Rita asked.
"Shopping for some new clothes," Don said.
Incongruity. I knew Don hated to shop as much as I did. And why today, of all days? He caught my quizzical expression. "Well, I can't keep wearing Seyla's things. She doesn't have that many to spare."
"Oh," I said, looking down at the floor. I couldn't form a picture of Don in the women's section of a store selecting skirts or togas. Or picking out panties and bras. Well, panties, anyway. She wasn't wearing a bra.
"Hey, Lee!" I looked up at her, then glanced away.
"Look, I didn't ask for this," she said, voice shrill and hurtful sounding. "But since it happened to me anyway, I'm going to have to get used to it and so will you. As a start, you can call me Donna instead of Don."
That startled me into looking directly at her. My mind buzzed like a swarm of bees looking for a new hive. "Wait, Don-"
"Donna," she said emphatically. "I don't want to see people staring at me when someone calls me by a male name."
I still couldn't say it. I hurried on with the thought. "Has anyone checked the news this morning yet? Maybe-"
"We've already looked. It's still the same," she said.
Lord help her. Did this sudden change in attitude have anything to do with that cry in the night I had heard just before going to sleep? Was it her, or Seyla I had heard? Rita elbowed me in the ribs. "We'll go with you, Donna. Won't we, Lee?"
We sure would. Rita didn't get that tone in her voice very often, but when she did, I had learned not to argue. We left.
***
It was only a short walk to the nearest mall. Rita held tightly to my hand to make sure I didn't get away after we went inside and got into the women's clothing display area. Seyla took Donna into a measuring booth while Rita held onto my hand and led me around to look at the display screens. They made me think about getting threedee at home. The graphic models looked so lifelike, I expected to see one of them come waltzing out of the screen at any moment and start talking to us. Just to give you an idea, when we stopped in the lingerie section, I got an erection just looking. One in particular got my attention; a tall blond, modeling translucent yellow glitterpanties and nothing else. Rita noticed my reaction and laughed out loud.
"Ready to change your luck?" she asked, glancing down at the bulge in my jeans.
"Only if you go blond," I said, giving a right answer for once.
She punched me affectionately on the arm. "Come on, let's go see if Donna is finished before you change your mind."
Donna (it was still hard for me to think of her in those terms) had already gotten her measurements entered into the shop's computer and was busy selecting clothes from the nearby screens, with help and advice from Seyla. Within minutes, articles of clothing began dropping into the delivery chute, funneled there from the fabrication room buried in the bowels of the store.
"Now for underwear," Seyla said. Donna blushed. I may have, too.
"We'll wait here on you," Rita said. "Lee has already been tempted enough." Donna gave me a questioning glance. I shrugged.
While they were off in lingerie, Rita gave me some orders. "Lee, the next time you speak to Donna, if you don't call her that, I'm going to be very upset with you." Her forehead was creased in a frown.
"I'll try," I said. Maybe I could get used to it.
"You'd better do more than try. Not only that, I want you to quit treating her
as if she's a freak. Can't you see how hurt she is?"
I hadn't noticed. Don-Donna hurt? By me? I thought back over the last thirty-six hours. Well, maybe. I certainly hadn't talked to her much, but I didn't know what to say. How do you go about nudging your best friend and asking him if he had gotten laid last night when he had turned into a her?
"I'm sorry," I said, and really, I was. I just didn't know how to get unsorry. "I didn't realize that was how I was acting."
"Well, you were. Listen, just try treating her like an old girlfriend you're still on good terms with."
"Maryanne?" I said.
"Damn your eyes, Lee, no!" She tried to put on a mad face but it dissolved into a giggle before she could stop it. "All right, you can even use her if it will help. Now get on with it; here they come."
"All finished?" I asked brightly. Rita glared at me.
"We're done," Seyla laughed, "but I thought Donna was going to have a heart attack when she saw some of the prices."
"We have-had it made didn't we, Donna?" I forced the word out as naturally as I could. "No overpriced clothes for us, just to keep up with fashion." Damn. I had included her as if she were still a man.
She didn't seem to mind. "Yeah. Where to now?"
I pinched my thumb and forefinger together to check the time. My thumbnail watch said it was eight thirty. It would be dark outside by now. "Why don't we stop by the campus and see what's going on with the gate there? We can grab a burger at the Dagwood if it's open." The Dagwood's burgers were always good and it was right across the street from where the gate had appeared.