The Sex Gates

  “Come on. Be cautious. Watch everyone.” I was remembering all the disaster novels I had read as a kid. After a nuclear war, the law of the jungle soon ruled. I didn't know whether that would hold true or not, but I wasn't taking chances.

  I led the way down the four flights of stairs, my senses keyed up and alert.

  The lobby was a madhouse, full of tangled knots of frightened people. Fortunately, the stairs came out near a side entrance. We followed others who were breaking away from the throng in the lobby and emerged outside.

  A horrendous red glow lit the sky to our southeast, huge flames coursing and twisting a darker red within the glow. It was San Antonio, all right; it could be nothing else. I looked back to the east. Nothing there. So far Houston had been spared.

  We ran through the parking lot for the car, hurrying past others with the same thought: get away. Get home. I saw several drawn guns, but no one threatened us. We gained the security of my new van, bought a few weeks previously when we decided to attend the festival. I put Russell in the driver's seat since he wasn't armed. I took the shotgun position, with Rez and Donna in back.

  Already cars were fighting for position on the road, horns honking and tires squealing. While Russell tried to get us untangled from the jam, I kept a wary eye on nearby vehicles and pedestrians. I asked Donna to watch the emergency webnews to see what else she could find out. I didn't want either Russell or I to be distracted.

  “Only three cities have been hit so far,” Donna reported after a few minutes. “In this country, anyway. They're saying there are explosions in other places, though."

  “Keep listening,” I said. Russell gained a few yards, then another few, and finally had a clear path out of the parking lot jam. Just as we were pulling away from the castle, a tremendous thump shook the roof of the van. Donna screamed. I looked up to see dust sifting down through cracks in the roof.

  “Where did that come from?” Rez asked, her voice shaking.

  “Don't know, but so long as it didn't hurt us, let's not worry. Keep going, Russell.” I pulled up a map from my bodycomp files and took a chance on a quick glance at it. I directed Russell toward a route that would take us home by side roads. It was a snap decision.

  I thought that the side roads might be marginally safer than the main routes. Traffic was certain to be thick on the main roads with refugees everywhere fleeing potential target cities, and with a good chance of accidents tying up us up in knots. The side roads left more opportunity for attack if people went wild, but we were well armed, and I had had the van equipped with long-range infrared gear. I had never forgotten our narrow escape from the Gater assault.

  Once away from the festival area, we made good time. The situation looked even better after the sun came up and visibility improved.

  “Now they're saying that it was Brazil who started it,” Rez said. “They bombed China and India, too, and now they're fighting each other."

  Where had our intelligence service been? After the revelation of Gater involvement with the attempt to destroy Russell's research into light theory, the Church of the Gates had declined drastically in our country, but the militant branch had moved to Brazil and began growing again. Hell, even I knew that.

  Brazil had always been an anomaly in South America, the largest and most powerful country on the continent, but using Portuguese as their primary language rather than Spanish. It tended to make them think of themselves as unique and superior to other countries down there, even though they shared the same Catholicism. Evidently, the Gaters had found fertile ground. They must have infiltrated the current military government and induced it to start a war after the first interstellar ship returned, hoping the resulting chaos would preclude any further development of star travel.

  I didn't worry about India and China. Both had been decimated by AIDS II, III, and IV even before the global warming upset their agricultural production, leading to millions of starvation deaths. Refugees from the coastal flood plains had caused further death, destruction, and chaos. Both countries had fractured into quarreling Third World states years ago, and I didn't see where a few A-Bombs lobbed back and forth would hurt them much more.

  So long as their war didn't spread, that is, and so far, that didn't appear to be happening. It couldn't go on too long in any case. Nuclear weapons were supposed to have been banned completely a few years ago, but it was common knowledge that most countries had fudged on the treaty, keeping enough in stock to retaliate if the need arose.

  It took us almost seven hours to get back home, normally not much more than an hour's drive. We had only one spot of trouble, an attempted roadblock which I spotted long before we were in any danger. A few well-aimed shots from a rifle sent the neophyte bandits scurrying for cover, and we drove on through.

  Donna continued to monitor the net. On the way back she passed on the latest. Brazil had been thoroughly bombed from space, targeting industrial complexes, military bases and sites from which missiles had been launched. So, I thought, the United States had sent more into orbit than the Orion and clippers and the new FTL ships.

  For once, I was grateful to the military thinkers, even if their intelligence did fail to predict the takeover of Brazil by the Gaters and their subsequent launching of nuclear missiles. At least they had prevented any more from being fired off. So far only San Antonio, Los Angeles, and the Cheyenne mountain military deep shelter in Colorado had been bombed in our country. We could recover from that, and forgive me for saying so, but Los Angeles was no great loss.

  I could see from the overpass as we pulled into town that lights were burning in homes and businesses all over Ruston where everyone was staying up to catch the latest news, but otherwise it was quiet, and the lighted downtown streets were deserted.

  I have never been so glad to see Grandpa's old homestead as I was that day, even though with all the renovations, he would never have recognized it. Russell parked the van, and we hurried into the house with what luggage we had brought.

  I got the big screen on line with my bodycomp while Rez and Donna threw together a scratch meal and coffee.

  It was a marathon session in front of the screen. Some of the clips of casualties were bad enough to make me cringe. The horribly burned, wounded and radiation-poisoned flocked to the gates where they stood or lay in long lines, waiting for a chance to pass through and be healed. They were in excruciating pain with no hope of medical attention because doctors and hospitals were totally overwhelmed by the thousands of injured. So the prospect of a sex change was the least of their worries.

  Early the next morning, our government delivered an ultimatum to India and China warlords to cease use of nuclear weapons or meet the same fate as Brazil. A few hours later, they capitulated, what was left of them, and the worst was over except for cleaning up our three bombed cities and sorting out the disruption of financial losses.

  By the day after that, those who wanted to had managed to get through a gate. Most of them came out young and healthy and grateful for their healed bodies, regardless of the resulting change in sex. Armageddon had come, but it was less than final. Our country would recover and continue exploring space. Finally, we all went to bed for some much-needed sleep. All of us were feeling tired and sick by then, even though we had been taking stimulants to stay awake.

  The day after that, we all began running at both ends, vomiting and diarrhea, and our skin began showing purple blotches from internal bleeding.

  God help me, none of us had even thought about that piece of debris that had landed on the van. It must have been thrown into the air from the San Antonio blast and carried by thermal currents all the way to the castle parking lot. The dust loaded with radioactivity fell into the van from the cracks in the roof.

  When I realized what had happened, I blamed myself for not considering the possibility. I was the one who had read all the disaster novels.

  Rez gathered me into her arms after I made that confession and hugged me while we both retched. “It's not
your fault, Li. How were you to know?"

  “I should have thought of it.” I ran for the bathroom as I felt another bowel spasm.

  The bowl filled with bloody mucous while I vomited into the trashcan. I finished and came back out feeling shaky and sick, as if I had the worst hangover in the world and no pills to take for it.

  “We'd better get to the clinic,” Rez said. “I'm feeling worse by the minute.” He turned and vomited a thin thread of bloody mucous into a pan he was holding.

  “Me, too,” Russell said. “Come on, Donna. Can you make it?"

  “I'll try.” Donna looked sicker than any of the rest of us. Russell helped her to her feet and out to the car while Rez and I supported each other.

  Thank God, it was only a couple of miles to old Doc Tyson's clinic. I retched nonstop on the way, and by the time we pulled into the clinic parking lot each of us had to be helped into his office.

  He took one look at us and knew what the problem was. He never asked a question, simply hurrying us one by one into the diagnostic booth.

  A few minutes later he was shaking his head. “Nothing I can do. You all got too much of a dose. Your only chance is to try the gate."

  The gate! There was one chance in ten thousand of Rez, Donna and I coming out alive as Seconders. Since it would be his first time through, Russell stood a better chance, if his radiation sickness hadn't progressed too far.

  We stared at each other. Rez struggled to his feet with a wan smile. “Well, it looks like we're all liable to find out what happens to the people who don't come back out."

  “Come on, let's hurry,” Tyson said. “Any of you might pop a major vessel and bleed to death any moment."

  I let myself be carried out to the ambulance, keeping my eyes on Rez all the way. If this was going to be our last few minutes together, I wanted to stay as close to him as possible. Donna and Russell appeared to feel the same way about each other.

  The four of us huddled together in the back. We were all violently ill, but kept struggling to touch each other for one last time.

  The ambulance pulled up in front of the gate, siren warbling. We were helped out and carried up to where the strange green wall loomed over us.

  “I'll go first,” I said. “My fault.” I could feel my bowels rumbling and a sudden sharp pain coursed through my belly, doubling me over. The ambulance attendant straightened me up and gave me a shove. I fell into the enveloping green nimbus, thinking how easy it was to die.

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  * * *

  BOOK III

  MARS/VENUS

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  * * *

  Chapter Twenty-four

  I blinked and stumbled, my body suddenly off balance. I felt different, bulkier, as if I were bundled up for a winter storm. I regained my footing and looked up. The first thing I saw was the Ruston water tower. My God, I had made it!

  My mind struggled with conflicting sensory information. A moment ago I felt sicker than a snake-bit dog. Now I could feel healthy vitality coursing through my strong young body. I also noticed some abstract patterns impinging on my peripheral vision. I shook off the sensation and turned around, searching for Rez—or Rita.

  She popped into existence, her beautiful body naked against the shiny green background of the gate. She looked just as I remembered her from years ago, but younger.

  Sudden tears filled her eyes as she recognized me. She ran into my arms. I held her close to me, grateful beyond words to the gods of luck and chance that we both made it through the gate. As our bare bodies pressed together, I experienced a momentary sensation that we were one person. I felt her tears as if they were my own and imagined I could feel the faint sandpapery sensation of my beard against her cheek. The curious double awareness faded when she stepped away from me.

  She brushed at her eyes. “Lee. Oh, God, Lee, I never thought we would make it."

  “Me either.” I looked over her shoulder at the weird green edifice we had passed through, my heart pounding with dread. Russell and Donna should have popped out by now.

  Rita became aware of why I was standing so still. She turned, taking hold of my hand. We stood side by side, waiting. And waiting.

  My mind was a blank. I don't know how long we stood and watched, hands locked together, expecting Russell and Donna to suddenly appear before us, healthy and smiling.

  It was Rita who finally broke the silent vigil. “Lee, I don't think they made it.” She clenched one hand, her knuckles white with pressure when her fist was doubled.

  “Let's wait a bit longer.” I was unwilling to give them up, to believe they were gone, taken by the same gate that had unaccountably spared our lives.

  “It only takes a microsecond to pass through the gates.” Rita's voice broke, but her training as a therapist made it easier for her to face the truth.

  I felt the sadness and remorse filling her mind, as if it was my own, tinged with my lingering guilt that I had not thought of radioactivity when the debris struck the van.

  From nearby, the gate guard approached us. I felt his presence before I turned around.

  “Are you folks all right?"

  “Yes, we're fine.” My voice was dull with grief.

  Doc Tyson and the two ambulance attendants joined the guard. The paramedics stared at our nakedness. I paid no attention to them. A sudden wild hope hit me. Maybe our friends had never entered the gate!

  “Doc, did Russell and Donna follow us into the gate?"

  He saw the forlorn hope that was gripping me. He shook his head and gazed down at the ground. “I'm sorry, Lee. They went in. They didn't come out.” He looked back up. “I think it's a miracle that two of you made it. How do you feel? Any different?"

  I did, somehow, but I said, “No, Doc, other than it feels a little odd to be back in a male body again."

  “Same here,” Rita said. Her fingers gripped my hand as tightly as small woman holding a Doberman's leash.

  One of the paramedics left us for a moment and returned carrying sheets from the ambulance. He extended one to each of us, averting his eyes from Rita as he gave hers to her.

  “I'm as sorry as I can be, but there's nothing more to be done here,” Tyson said. “Come on. I'll give you a lift back to the clinic."

  It turned out that he had followed the ambulance in his own car, though I had been so sick that I didn't remember it. He got us settled in the back seat and drove off. Presently, he asked again, “Are you sure you're okay?"

  “We're sure, Doc,” I answered for both of us, though in truth, my mind still seemed to be playing tricks on me. When I closed my eyes, I could still feel the presence of Rita and Tyson in the car, almost like ghosts were haunting his vehicle.

  “I'm glad. I had my doubts that any of you would even live to get to the gate. You were all hemorrhaging internally by then."

  “Thank you for acting so quickly,” Rita said.

  “That's what I'm there for, though I'll confess, I don't react nearly as well now as I did when I was young. I'll have to be thinking about going through a gate myself before long."

  That remark was what I needed to take my mind off Russell and Donna, at least momentarily. I couldn't imagine the old doctor as a fresh eighteen-year-old girl. He was already an old man when I was a kid.

  Rita apparently had the same reaction. She smiled sadly, but said nothing.

  “Would you like me to examine you before you go?” Tyson asked as he pulled up at the clinic.

  “No, thanks,” we both said at the same moment.

  “I didn't think you would. But it's my duty to ask."

  “Thanks, Doc, but we're fine,” I said.

  My car was still at the clinic. I drove us home in silence, each of us mourning our loss in our own way, though I still thought I could almost feel Rita's emotion. I had to concentrate on driving at first, unused to my old new body's different dimensions.

  Rita and I smiled at each other as we searched for some of our old clot
hes to put on. We found jeans and shirts in the back of the closet, and our old sandals.

  “How about a drink?” I asked, the first words either of us had spoken since leaving the clinic. I didn't know about her, but I sure needed one.

  “Make it a strong one. I can't quite put my finger on it, but I still don't feel like myself. I keep having this sensation of you being almost a part of me, almost as if you were in my mind."

  “You, too?” Curious. We headed for the bar.

  I poured bourbon and added a little water and some ice. We sat down together and sipped at our drinks. The Jack Daniels bit at my tongue and slid down into my gut. Presently, I could feel the first effects, a warm, faintly tingly flush spreading through my body. I turned to Rita.

  There were tears in her eyes. “It's hard to believe they're really gone. Damn it, why us and not them?"

  “Maybe they're not dead. Maybe the gates hold the people who don't come back in stasis or something until a later date."

  “Science fiction.” Her voice choked as she said it. I could feel her grief like a blow to my gut.

  “What are the gates? Something the Easter bunny left?"

  “Touché. Sorry, hon. You know how much I want to think that they aren't really gone, but rather waiting somewhere on us."

  “Me, too,” I said. “And maybe they are. Who knows? The gates are as much of a puzzle as they've ever been.” Somehow saying those words made me feel better. Besides, a sudden disappearance, leaving no body behind, didn't quite seem as final as death as I had known it. It gave room for hope.

  We sat together in silence for a while, lost in memories of Russell and Donna. I could hear their voices echoing in my mind, and a part of me refused to believe they were dead. I knew Rita felt the same way.

  Finally, I sighed and set the memories aside. I knew I would be mourning their loss for months to come, but right now, I needed to think of the new adjustments Rita and I would have to make.

  At the same moment, Rita spoke.