by Darrell Bain
A young man wearing a short, neatly trimmed beard greeted us. "Yes, how may I help you?"
"I'm Lee Stuart. I have a three o'clock appointment with Messilinda," I said. That was how she billed herself: Messilinda, no last name.
"Oh, yes." He glanced up at a wall clock in the shape of a gate. "She's expecting you. Come with me."
Rita was made to wait in the lobby. Ordinarily, I would have made a fuss, but the folks still hadn't called. I asked her if she minded.
"Of course not. Go ahead." She could tell I was worried.
The web programs I had seen of Messilinda didn't do her justice. She was far more beautiful than I had imagined. She rose from a workstation where she had been manipulating pictures of a quietly worshipful crowd surrounding a gate and greeted me with her hand out. I almost didn't see it for staring at the rest of her. She was dressed in a filmy white dress, translucent on top, fading to opaqueness around her hips, then flaring gracefully translucent again from her thighs. Her hair was a glorious flame and she matched it exactly with the same colored lipstick. Her eyes were a compelling deep green color and almost mesmerizing with their intelligence.
"Mr. Stuart. How good to see you. The Church is blessed with your presence."
Huh? I didn't see how I blessed it, not with thoughts running through my mind that would have gotten an X rating on any children's program in the world.
"Uh, thank you," I managed and groped for her hand.
She squeezed my hand, then kept hold as she led me through a door behind the work station and into another, smaller room.
"Please sit down." She indicated a spot on a long couch, fronted by a coffee table and a caddy at one end. Those three items were all the furniture the room contained, other than an oversized screen on one wall. "I like for my guests to be comfortable while we conduct business," she said, noticing my surprise at the bareness of the room.
I muttered something in response.
"Would you like a drink?" she asked, sitting down at the end of the couch where the caddy was located.
"Whatever you're having," I said.
She dispensed a pink concoction from the caddy, then leaned back and crossed her legs. "What would you like to talk about?" she asked me.
Not what I was thinking. I sipped at the pink fluid in my glass, then took a bigger swallow. It was better than it looked and definitely alcoholic.
"Why don't you give me an overview of the Church of the Gates beliefs to start with?" I said.
"Certainly. The gates are a direct manifestation of God in all his wonderful mercy. Only His love for humanity could possibly be responsible for the blessing of renewed life and vigor available to us now. God saw how divided and fractious we were, how males were too aggressive, females too submissive. The gates represent His desire to allow us to perceive ourselves from the viewpoint of the opposite sex so we may finally understand ourselves and at last bring peace to this tortured earth." She spoke earnestly, as if she really believed in what she was saying.
It still sounded like a sermon to me. "What about those people who enter the gates and don't return? They certainly get no chance to look at things differently."
"Oh, but they do. They are the doubly blessed. Those who don't return are united with God immediately."
"The criminals, too? You do know many of them don't make the passage?"
"That's what's so wonderful. God has forgiven them their sins, as he will all of us eventually."
"And how long will that take?" I asked.
"Why, no longer than the period until you enter the heavenly gates for the second time. All who believe will be forgiven and taken to heaven."
"Then why not immediately go through a gate the second time? Why wait?"
"Isn't it obvious? When God's gates miraculously change our gender, He is instructing us to live out another life on earth before entering heaven, and to learn to understand why He created two sexes. He also wants us to lead others to the light. Just as Jesus' disciples spread the gospel, so must we."
"Just for the sake of argument," I said, "Suppose an alien race with incredibly advanced technology is responsible for the gates rather than God. Doesn't that make just as much sense?"
"If you believe that, you must not have done your homework. Don't you know the gates have been proven to be immaterial? No physics even imagined can explain them."
Well, she had me there. However, I quoted from an old adage first formalized by a science fiction writer of the last century. "Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic."
"Arthur C. Clark." She smiled at my expression. I hadn't expected someone so young to know Clark. So young? On the webs, she had appeared to be in her mid-twenties. I examined her more closely. In person, she didn't look a day over eighteen. Suddenly, I knew she had made a passage through a gate, turning from male to female. She must have been a damned handsome guy if her female manifestation was any guide.
"You've been through a gate," I said.
She got a pensive expression on her face. "Can I persuade you not to publicize that knowledge?"
"Why do you want to keep it a secret?" Up until then, I had thought the interview was going nowhere. I could just as well have watched her preaching on the web for all she had told me that I didn't already know.
"I don't really, but I must in order to bring more souls to the light. Many people still resent and discriminate against those of us who have been changed. How did you know?"
My experience with Donna had helped. As beautiful and feminine as she was, I had unconsciously caught nuances of her former male persona in her speech and mannerisms. "It doesn't matter," I told her. "Once you began to gather enough converts to come into the public eye, it was inevitable that someone would notice. If not me, someone else would have found out very soon."
She considered for a moment, then smiled brilliantly at me. "Well, in that case, I suppose I'll have to live up to the revelation. God knows what He's doing. In any case, since you're the first to know, I grant you permission to use the knowledge."
I didn't need her permission, but it was nice of her to say so. I quickly got her former name, birth date and other biographical data. As she talked, I let her hear me tell the comphone to run confirmation checks on the data. It didn't phase her in the least, so I assumed she was telling the truth. What was astounding was she had been born over a hundred years ago, the oldest person I had heard of successfully making the change. No wonder she thought God was responsible.
When we finished, I stood up. We hadn't talked long, but I was anxious to get back out to the lobby and see if Rita had heard from the folks yet.
Messilinda took both my hands and pulled me close to her, then let go of them and put her arms around my neck. It took me only a few seconds to forget she had once been a man, if I thought of it at all. Her lips parted and her tongue darted into my mouth with an eagerness that had lots of practice behind it. My arms went around her with no urging. She held the kiss for a moment, then reached behind her. I felt the fabric of her dress go slack under my hands.
I forgot all about Rita waiting in the lobby for a call from my parents. There's nothing so imperative to a man with a hard-on as some place to put it. Or in the more commonly used expression, a hard dick doesn't have a conscience.
A soft one does, though. I slunk out of Messilinda's office feeling like a kid who spent his church offering on candy and having no idea why Messilinda had wanted to seduce me. It certainly couldn't have been because of my looks. Perhaps she was hoping the act would impel me to put a favorable slant on my exclusive, but I never found out. Not then anyway.
Rita jumped up as soon as I came into the lobby. "Lee!" she cried. "Your dad called. They made it!"
That made me feel even worse. "What did they say?"
"They sent their love and said not to call for a few days, but not to worry; they're fine. I'm so glad, Lee. I was afraid your dad might not make it."
"Me, too. Come on, I've got some s
tuff here that won't wait."
As soon as we got to the car, I asked Rita to drive while I plugged in my comphone and began transferring the recording of the interview to my agent, flagging it with an "urgent" icon and asking her to put it out for bids. I used the car screen to make minor revisions as it unwound. I didn't want to take time to edit it for fear of being scooped. This news was bound to be worth a lot of money.
Unfortunately, I had forgotten to turn my comphone off when the seduction began. "Whoops!" I said, feeling as foolish as a linebacker recovering a fumble, then running the wrong way with the ball. I cut the recording.
"Did you enjoy yourself?" Rita asked.
"It happened so quickly, I don't remember," I said. That was partially true. It had happened quickly.
"I'll bet you don't. My, and with a former man, too. Donna may have some hope after all."
"Donna? What's she got to do with it?" I didn't understand, but I've already mentioned I don't understand women.
"Nothing, nothing. Just so long as she didn't convert you."
I could assure her on that point. As for the rest, she suggested we play the rest of the recording when we got home and in bed to see if she could learn any new techniques. I said she already had more than enough to satisfy me, and besides, I doubted the comphone had caught much of the visual since it was down around my ankles most of the time.
She laughed. I was glad we weren't living in the olden days, where something like what I had done sometimes led to a spate of dodging bullets. It still was on occasion, but not very often from younger persons like us. After the universal virucide was invented, sexual mores had relaxed to a degree that our parents still had trouble believing.
After we got home, Rita did her best to wear me out and I cooperated until she succeeded. Why is it that a strange piece of ass makes you hornier than ever for your regular partner? Between one of our couplings, I asked Rita if the psych courses she had taken had anything to say on the subject.
"They say men are rabbits in disguise and there's no cure for the condition. Shut up and fuck me again."
***
The Messilinda interview (minus the unreported portion) got a big play in Texas and the surrounding states and even a bit of national publicity. It also brought in quite a lot of money, enough to keep all of us in beans for a while without having to touch my annuity.
Messilinda didn't seem to be hurt by the revelation that she had been a hundred year old man prior to becoming the founder of a new religion. On the contrary, I think it enhanced her status. The number of her converts continued to grow, along with the debunkers, but that just helped more. As the old adage says, any publicity is good publicity.
I think Rita must have blabbed to Donna about how the interview ended. Within a few days, she began paying so much attention to me, that I became embarrassed by it. When I was tired, she offered to give me a back rub, then took so long at it, I finally had to ask her to stop. She began dressing even more provocatively than usual, sometimes changing her new clothes twice or even three times a day, especially if we were home alone. She began touching me when no touch was called for and sitting near me when Rita wasn't around. I didn't know how to deal with it. First I tried to laugh it off, then I began making an effort not to be left alone with her. I thought her actions must be obvious to everyone else in the household, but no one else seemed to take notice of it, which led me to believe I was probably letting my imagination get the better of me. I wouldn't let myself believe that she was trying to seduce me.
The whole thing finally came to a head one afternoon when everyone else was out, either at school or on some errand or another. I was in the living room, sitting down with my feet propped up and reviewing some notes on the screen there while having a small drink. I had come from the study to make the drink and stayed.
Donna must have heard me stirring. She came out of her room dressed in almost nothing and sat down beside me, closer than was really necessary.
"Hi, Donna," I said. "Did I wake you up?"
"No, I wasn't sleeping." She scrunched closer and put a hand on my thigh. "Actually, I was thinking about you."
"Me?" I wouldn't look at her.
"Yes, you, Lee. Why are you avoiding me?"
"I'm not," I said, a pure lie.
"Yes you are. You won't even look at me." I forced myself to turn and face her. Her eyes were moist. As I watched, a tear broke loose and trickled down her cheek.
"Donna, what is it?" I wondered if Seyla had left her or something.
She hesitated, like a kid not quite sure he wants to go off the high diving board, then took the plunge.
"Rita told you I got an implant, didn't she?"
So that was it. She was just scared and I had been misinterpreting things. "Yes, she did. Look, Donna, if that's what you want to do, you don't need my approval. It's Seyla you need to talk to."
"But I do need your approval. Don't you understand? I don't want just any man. It's you I want to try it with."
"Oh, chips in hell," I said.
"Please, Lee. Don't you see? This is a big step for me. I'm scared. Won't you help me?"
I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything. I looked away again, trying to think of a way out of the situation. While my eyes were turned, she put her arms around me. I turned around directly into her waiting lips. For what seemed like an eternity, she kissed me while images of the old Don and the new Donna raced through my mind. I felt the beginning of an erection and drew back sharply. "No, damn it. Donna, you're my friend, not my lover!"
"Am I your friend?" she asked, her voice sounding as forlorn as a funeral dirge. Another tear escaped.
"Yes," I said, but I walked away, leaving her sitting there crying. As soon as I was out of sight, I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall, telling myself I had done the right thing. I had a hard time making myself believe it.
Chapter Nine
Donna treated me so nice after the attempted seduction, I felt like a dog that had bitten its master. She didn't mention the subject again and I certainly didn't. I guess I expected her to drop the idea of trying sex with me and find another man but I saw no signs of it. She could take all her classes at home, so there was no need for her to go to the campus. Mostly, she stayed inside and studied. The main difference I noticed in her attitude was that she didn't laugh or smile as much as she had before. I knew that was my fault I but didn't know what to do about it, so I tried to just let it go, hoping she would cheer up. The one thing she wanted, I wasn't prepared to give.
This situation went on for several days. I didn't think anyone else knew what was causing Donna to be so gloomy until Rita broached the subject.
We were sitting out on the front porch after breakfast, enjoying our coffee and early morning sunshine and smoking cigarettes. I like being outside so long as I'm around my own digs, but in southern Texas in the summertime, you have to get your porch sitting done early. The heat and humidity will run you inside by midmorning.
I finished my cup and picked up the carafe to fill it again. "More?" I said to Rita.
"No thanks. Lee, I want to talk to you."
Uh oh. I could tell she was upset with me by the tone of her voice. In fact, now that I thought about it, she had been exasperated for several days.
"What about?" I said, already beginning to suspect.
"You know what about. I just can't believe you treated Donna so horribly."
"Me? What did I do?"
"You hurt her feelings. Badly. If I were her, I wouldn't even be speaking to you."
"Are you talking about the way she was coming on to me last week?"
"No, I'm talking specifically about four days ago when she asked you to make love to her and you refused. You ought to be ashamed of yourself."
"Do you and her talk about every damn thing that happens around here?" I said, trying to get the conversation going in another direction.
"Of course we do, with anything that matters. Didn't you and Donna us
ed to gab about everything before the gates?"
I hadn't thought about it like that, but she was right. Before Donna changed, we had discussed almost everything that could possibly interest each other, including Rita, Seyla and whichever girl Russell was seeing at the moment.
"Well, yes, now that you mention it, but it's different now."
"It sure is. Donna has a broken heart and Seyla is about ready to conk you on the head."
"Oh, come on now," I said. "Seyla's not mad at me. She's just depressed about something that will blow over in a day or two. You know how she gets sometimes."
"Well, she's not going to get over her depression this time. Not until you make up with Donna."
"Make up with her? We haven't even had a fight."
"You hurt her. Why are you so impossibly stubborn sometimes? And so dense, I might add."
"Dense in what way?" We seemed to be going in circles. I couldn't understand what she was talking about.
"Can't you tell how Donna feels about you? Couldn't you at least have tried? Even if you don't feel the same way she does, you could have done that much for her."
"Rita, please, let's drop the subject. Don was the best friend I've ever had. We practically lived together from our sophomore year in high school on. I'd like to keep it like that."
"You sure pick strange ways of going about it."
"I'm sorry," I said. "I just wouldn't feel right having sex with her. It would be like…like…"
"Like going to bed with a man, right?"
"Sort of, I guess."
"And yet you don't see a thing wrong with women making love to each other, do you?"
"I can't help the way I was brought up," I said. You didn't often run across openly gay men in the military, or in Ruston.
"Don't blame it on your upbringing. You didn't have any trouble with that hennaed redheaded evangelist, did you? She only spent about a hundred years as a man," Rita said. She was about as angry as I had ever seen her, and she nailed me good, right between the horns.