G11 Mistaken Identity

by Sarah Bayen

Part Three

 

The stress of the day had got to Steve perhaps more than he realised. Uncomfortable as he was in his tiny Lycra skirt, he lay down on the bed to wallow in his sorrows, but instead, found himself falling asleep. He was awoken some time later by an announcement from the Machine.

"Attention," it began. "Lesson time is now over. You may change out of Learning Uniform. Dinner will be served in one hour."

Bleary eyed, he raised his head and looked around himself. His hand slipped down to his waist, and felt the unfamiliar material around him. It hadn't been a nightmare; he really was stuck here in the girls sleeping area wearing a girl's gym skirt, and with no hope of finding a pair of trousers to put on!

He stood up, and wondered what he should do. There was no way he was going to dinner dressed like this. The shame and humiliation would be too much. He went across to the Interface, hoping against hope that its ban on him wearing trousers might have been lifted. He typed in the word when prompted by the Interface, and was greeted with the now familiar response.

"That item is not available to G11 at the present time."

He swore at it, and stood again, walking aimlessly around his room. He wanted the toilet, but remembered his promise to Sarah that he would let her know if he was going to use it. Doing that would mean going out into the corridor dressed as he was, and facing the ridicule of the all the girls. No way was he going to do that. He would simply wait until they had all gone off to the Refectory for dinner, and then relieve himself.

Then he remembered about his promised meeting with Karen. They had to get together to plan their assault on the Machine's madness. He had to get a message to her somehow that he was coming along after dinner, and to arrange a place they could meet where no-one would see him in this ridiculous skirt. What was worse, of course, was that he had lost her sacrifice of the trousers so stupidly by asking for some gym wear. In a fit of pique, he yanked the little skirt off himself, and threw it into the corner of the room. He was naked now, and a little cold, but he was prepared to face that, rather than the ignominy of having to wear a skirt any longer than absolutely necessary.

He sat by the Interface, and typed in a message to Karen, B15 as the Machine insisted on calling her. He told her simply that he wasn't coming along to dinner, but that he would see her afterwards in the Maths room. He stepped away, and walked around the room again for a few moments, before returning to the Interface, and looking up some fiction he might read. He picked out a story of two adventurers fighting their way through the jungles on old Earth, and settled to read it.

"Attention," the Machine said at last. "Dinner will be served in one half of one hour."

He huffed to himself, feeling hungry as well as cold now, but continued with his reading. The story served to take his mind off his predicament for a time, but he then realised that he would have to wear something for his rendezvous with Karen. He closed the text, and saw that he had a message. He opened it. "OK," it said. Karen wasn't one to use superfluous words. Idly, and without hope, he searched through the available clothing options. He clicked on a pair of girl's trousers out of desperation, but was told that the item wasn't available to him. All that was on offer was a range of skirts and tops as well as more elaborate dresses, none of which appealed to him. He would have to wear something however, he realised. It was simply a case of picking the least offensive one.

If he was going to have a skirt, at least he'd have one a bit longer than the horrible Learning Uniform the Machine had selected. He looked at his choices. The longer ones tended to flare out more, from what he could see. Much to his chagrin, the Interface had produced a reasonable facsimile of himself on which it displayed the various garments as if he was wearing them. The stupid facsimile smiled benignly at him from the screen, as if delighted with the prospect of wearing girls' clothes.

There was a chime from the door. "G9 and G13," the Machine announced. He cursed again. What did Jeanette and Sarah want now?

He stomped across the room, and slipped back into the Lycra gym skirt, before opening the door. "Hi Steve," Sarah said brightly again. "Are you ready to come along to dinner? We thought we might come with you in case you were shy or anything." The two girls smiled benignly at him, waiting for his response. Jeanette's gaze fell on his stupid little skirt again.

"I'm not sure I'd wear that to dinner," she advised. She and Sarah had changed into simple T-shirts and blue jeans. He felt a stab of jealousy at their freedom, but swallowed it before reacting.

"I'm not coming," he said. "I'll do without dinner today I think."

"Oh you can't do that!" Sarah exclaimed. "Can he Jeanette?"

"No!" the other girl agreed, with an alarmed expression on her face. "You've got to come along!"

"Yes!" Sarah agreed. "I know it's not easy, having to go dressed in a skirt, but people will understand."

"Yeah," Jeanette agreed. "They know it's not your fault."

"That's right. Come on, we'll help you choose something if you want." Sarah tried to get around him and into the room.

"No it's all right," Steve protested. "I'm not that hungry."

"Don't be silly," Sarah went on, pushing past Steve, successfully this time, and strolling across to the Interface. "You can't go starving yourself just because the Machine has made a mistake."

"No," agreed Jeanette, slipping past Steve to join her friend. "That would be ridiculous."

Steve allowed the door to shut with a resigned look on his face. He walked slowly across to where the girls stood, staring intently at the screen.

"Hmm," Sarah said, her fingers tripping across the keyboard with ease. "It's still not letting you have any trousers or jeans"

"Because it hates me," Steve said bitterly.

"Well it's odd, because the rest of us can order them," Sarah went on. "So it's not just because you're a G number."
"Perhaps it's because it knows you're a boy really," Jeanette suggested.

"Well how would that work?" Steve demanded angrily. "If it thinks I'm a boy, then it should just stop this nonsense, and let me get on with my life!"

"Well don't have a go at me about it!" Jeanette replied, hurt by his venom. "I was only trying to help."

"I suppose if it was trying to get you used to being a girl, it might think that you should wear skirts and dresses all the time," Sarah mused. "But whatever the reason, we can't order you anything except skirts and dresses."

Steve stomped across the room, causing his flimsy Lycra skirt to flip up. Jeanette averted her eyes quickly and stared back at the screen. "Well since you've got to wear a skirt, which one do you like best?" Sarah said.

"I don't like any of them," Steve said petulantly, staring at the wall.

"Well you haven't even looked at them!" Sarah protested.

"Yes I have. I looked at them before you came in," he confessed. "I was thinking what I could wear to meet Karen later."

The two girls looked at each other for a moment. "Well there must be something here that you could tolerate," Sarah suggested. "What about this one? It looks quite nice on your facsimile."

"Yes," agreed Jeanette, cheerfully.

Reluctantly Steve walked back across to the Interface, and looked at the screen. The little figure of himself stood centre screen and smiling, wearing a long floral skirt.

"What do you think?" Sarah asked him.

"Are you serious?" he demanded. "It's got flowers on it!"

She looked back at the screen, as if to check. "Yes," she agreed. "They look quite nice."

"Well you wear it then!" he snapped.

Jeanette and Sarah glanced at each other for a moment, and looked a little shamefaced. "Well we would," Jeanette began, "but Linda said we all ought to have some sort of protest about the Learning Uniform."

"That's right," Sarah agreed. "We're all going to wear trousers all the time, until the Machine changes its mind."

Steve stared from one to the other. "Well how's that going to help?"

"I'm not sure really," Sarah confessed. "But Linda and the others felt really strongly about it, so we thought we ought to go along with it." Jeanette nodded her agreement.

"I don't really mind," Sarah went on. "I think the Uniform looks quite smart,"

"Yes," Jeanette agreed. "But we don't want to upset the others do we?" Sarah shook her head.

"So if I go along to dinner," Steve went on. "I'll be the only person there wearing a skirt?"

"Well, assuming Karen's got changed I suppose," Sarah agreed.

"Well in that case there's no way I'm doing it!" Steve said, walking away again, causing his little skirt to flip up once more.

Jeanette looked a little embarrassed. "Steve," she said, and he turned to face her. "I know it's not your fault, but," she hesitated for a moment before continuing. "But if you wear a skirt that short, you really ought to wear knickers or something underneath. Every time you move about, we can see your bum!"

Steve visibly coloured. He had felt exposed enough in the tiny little skirt, but it hadn't occurred to him the extent. He shut his eyes in shame and embarrassment, and tears started to come again.

"Oh poor Steve!" Jeanette gasped. "I didn't mean to upset you!" She came across to him, and placed her hands on his shoulders. "I shouldn't have said anything really. I am stupid!"

He shook his head. "No, it's all right," he told her. "I hadn't realised how short it was, that's all."

Sarah stood up, and stood by his side. "I know it's all upsetting," she told him gently. "But I really think you ought to pick something, and come to dinner with us, just to show the Machine that you're not going to give in to it."

"That's right!" agreed Jeanette. "It probably wants you to stay in here sulking about having to wear a skirt."

"Yes!" Sarah agreed enthusiastically. "Shall I order you the nice floral one then?" she went on encouragingly. "And pick you out a nice top to go with it?"

Steve hesitated for a moment. "Well I am a bit hungry."

"I'm sure you are," Sarah agreed. "Come on, let's get you sorted out."

"Dinner will be served in fifteen minutes," the Machine informed them in its metallic tones. "Please make your way to the Refectory, which is signposted from the sleeping quarters."

The three of them stared at each other, waiting for Steve to make his decision. "We'll make sure no one's horrid to you," Jeanette told him. Still he hesitated. It was going to be hell walking into dinner wearing another bloody skirt, especially since it was his own fault that he had lost the trousers Karen had given him. But he was hungry, and he was going to have to order something to wear for his meeting with Karen in any case. No one could really blame him for the Machine's madness about his gender.

"All right," he said at last. "Order it for me."

Smiling, Sarah turned back to the Interface and typed the request in. "Oh," she said. "It says it wants you to put your gym stuff in for recycling first. We'd best wait outside," she went on, with a knowing look at Jeanette. "You won't want us to see you naked will you?" She giggled a little to herself.

"Give us a shout if you need any help putting any of it on," Jeanette told him, touching his arm as she passed him on her way to the door. They both stepped through, and the door shut. Steve slipped out of the gym skirt, and went across the room to pick up the unworn leotard and trainers. He threw them angrily into the recycling chute, and waited for the delivery of his outfit for dinner. He took the opportunity of using the toilet while he knew Sarah was out of her room.

The outfit arrived with a clunk, and Steve took it out. As well as the skirt and top, the Machine had seen fit to provide him with a bra and a pair of lacy panties. He threw these aside in disgust, and stepped into the skirt. It felt strange, especially against his naked body, but he felt less exposed than in the gym skirt. He pulled the matching yellow top over his head. It felt tight and clingy, but it fitted well enough. It would have to do. He looked, and saw that the Machine had also provided a pair of girl's shoes, black, with a small heel. He shuddered. They could stay here with the knickers and bra. He would go to dinner barefoot.

"G9 and G13," his door told him. Sighing, he took one last look down at the unfamiliar sight of himself in the mirror, before walking across to the door, and pressing the button to open it. The two girls were waiting there, and looked him up and down as he appeared to them.

"It looks good on you!" Sarah announced, with some enthusiasm.

"Yes," agreed Jeanette. "You need to straighten the skirt a little. I'll do it for you." She grabbed the waistband of his skirt, and turned it around a little for him, so that the little bow was now at the front.

"Tut, didn't you get a slip with it or anything?" Sarah went on. "It's a bit see-through."

"No," he said. "There were some knickers, but I've not put them on."

Sarah raised her eyebrows at this, and then shrugged. "Well it's up to you I suppose."

"What about shoes?" Jeanette asked, looking down at his feet.

Steve indicated across the room to the discarded footwear. "I didn't fancy them. I'll be all right like this."

The girls looked a little dubious, but shrugged at one another. "All right," Sarah said at last. "Shall we get along to dinner then?" She and Jeanette smiled at Steve, as he stood on the threshold of his room, reluctant to leave its relative safety, and to enter the public areas of the ship dressed in his floral skirt. Their friendly smiles suggested to him that it would be all right, however, and, holding his breath, he took a step forward into the corridor. The door swished shut behind him. Suddenly he was acutely aware of his situation. He was now out in public, wearing a floral skirt and tight fitting top. There was no going back now.

"I think most people have already gone along," Sarah said. "We shouldn't see anyone now until we get to the Refectory."

"Yes," agreed Jeanette. "Come on, let's go shall we?"

They both stood aside to allow Steve to move forward. His breathe racing, and his heart beating quickly, he did so, and in a line of three, they made their way along the empty corridor to the Archway at the end. True to its word, the Machine had signed the way to the new Refectory, and they walked, still three abreast, along the corridors in the direction indicated.

"Are you all right Steve?" Sarah asked him solicitously. He nodded in reply. He was anxious now, and having second thoughts about his decision to attend dinner. The skirt flapped unfamiliarly around his legs, and the top felt unusually clingy against his chest. As they turned a corner, he saw a group of girls in front of them, dressed, like Sarah and Jeanette, in T-shirts and jeans. He heard their voices, and deliberately slowed so that there was no danger of catching them up.

"Don't worry Steve!" Jeanette told him encouragingly. "You'll be fine."

"Yes," Sarah agreed, as they made their way along. Soon they were at the doorway of what was evidently the Refectory. There was a general hubbub coming from within, and, with the double doors leading to it open, Steve could see a range of tables and people sitting at them. Still some ten yards or so from the doors, he stopped in his tracks.

"Come on!" Jeanette urged him. "It won't be that bad."

He grinned nervously, and, holding his arm, she and Sarah led him forward to the door. They stepped through still linked. At first no one paid them any heed, engrossed as they were in their own conversations, but then, inevitably, someone noticed Steve and what he was wearing.

"Oh my God look!" he heard Janet's voice call out. "It's the new girl back in a skirt!"

All the heads in the room turned to look at the latecomers, and there was a cacophony of laughter at Steve's predicament.

"I knew you'd get back into a skirt sooner or later!" Colin mocked loudly, causing more laughter.

"Well I think he looks very nice!" Jeanette shouted back, obviously affronted. The laughter continued, and Steve began to wish he had stuck to his original resolve to stay in his room and miss dinner.

"Over here Steve!" he heard Bryn call. He turned to see his friend, together with Richard. "We've saved you a space."

"Trust you to try and get the only bit of skirt to sit next to you!" Colin retorted, causing another round of mocking laughter.

"He's sitting with us!" Sarah announced to the room. Jeanette nodded, and they both led Steve across to a table where there were three remaining seats. They were to share with Janet and her friend Ellen, and another girl called Lynne. There were still hoots and catcalls accompanying their progress, and by the time he managed to sit down, Steve was acutely embarrassed and blushing.

Slowly the attention turned elsewhere, much to Steve's relief, and he studiously began to study the meal options displayed in front of him. He made his selection, and tried to be as inconspicuous as possible for a boy in a skirt. The other girls at the table were not paying him particular attention for a moment, and he was quite relieved about that. Perhaps they could all find something to talk about other than him.

It did not last long, however, Janet, having finished a conversation with Ellen, turned to him.

"Why did you decide to wear a skirt then Steve? There were plenty of trousers to choose from."

"The Machine wouldn't let me have them," he muttered in reply.

"It's true," Sarah butted in, supporting him. "I tried to order him a pair of jeans, but it just said that G11 couldn't have them at this time."

Janet looked first at Sarah, and then at Steve. "Why?" she asked.

"I don't know," Steve responded miserably. "But I'm not putting up with it for long. Me and Karen are going to put it all right in the morning."

Janet raised her eyebrows. "Well," she said. "I hope for your sake that you do."

Steve felt a hand on his shoulder, and jumped. Turning slightly he saw that it was Bryn standing behind him. "Wotcha mate," Bryn said. "I know you're supposed to be a girl, but don't you think wearing a skirt, and sitting with them for dinner is taking it a bit far?"

Steve grimaced at him, and wondered whether to say something disparaging about his company. The girls all glared at Bryn in an unfriendly manner. "I'm all right," Steve said eventually. "They're being nice to me at any rate."
"I bet they are!" Bryn went on. "Dressed like that, they probably think you're one of them."

"Oh don't be so childish Bryn," Janet snapped. "It's bad enough for Steve as it is, without you rubbing it in. Personally I think he's really brave to come along to dinner in a skirt."

"Yeah," Ellen agreed. "I bet you wouldn't have the nerve!"

"You bet I wouldn't!" Bryn retorted. He turned back to Steve. "Well if you're sure you want to stay here."
"I'm sure," Steve assured him. "I'll see you later." Bryn shrugged, and walked back to his table full of boys. Janet looked at Steve, and smiled at him.

"Don't worry about him," she told him.

"I won't," Steve replied, returning the smile. A bell indicated that the meals were ready, and they all stood up to go and collect them from the hatches. Steve stood in a queue for the choice he had made. Seeing Stuart and Colin in the queue, he immediately wished he had checked what Sarah and Jeanette had chosen, so he could have taken some safety in their company.

"Well don't you look pretty?" Colin said disparagingly to him. Steve simply smiled back, and hoped that this would disarm the other boy. "Still, you always were a bit of a poof. I bet you're enjoying being a girl aren't you?"

"It's only for the day," Steve muttered. Colin wasn't to be put off so easily. He turned so he was facing Steve, and grinned menacingly at him. "I would have thought you'd have worn a bra though, being a poof. I'd have thought you'd have loved to have boobs like a girl!"

Steve knew he was being goaded for a fight. He and Colin had had many over the years, and, although Steve normally lost in a straight physical contest, he usually got the better of the red haired boy verbally. Today, however, he was at a loss how to respond. Colin sensed his unaccustomed vulnerability, and pressed his advantage home. "Well it's good to see you looking so pretty," he sneered again, poking Steve in the chest.

"Yes it is," Steve heard a voice behind him. He turned, and saw that Karen had joined them in the queue. She stood behind him, taller than both him and Colin, and Steve felt a strange sense of relief. She was wearing a blue sweatshirt and jeans. Steve smiled up at her, and she returned the gesture. Colin muttered something under his breath, and waited in line.

"So you changed back into a skirt?" Karen asked him, matter of factly, raising her eyebrows quizzically.

Steve looked down at the floor. "Yes," he admitted. "I didn't mean to though. I put your trousers in for recycling, and assumed I'd be able to get some others."

"No need to apologise," Karen told him. "It suits you well enough. I had to get out of your bloody skirt as well. It was far too short. I don't mean to be difficult, but if we can't get the Machine to sort this out, I don't think I'll be able to swap with you again."

Steve stared at her, and smiled nervously. "Well we'll have it sorted tomorrow won't we? So it'll only be tomorrow morning we've got to worry about."

They waited in turn, and took their meals, and returned to their separate tables. The girls on Steve's were talking about the Learning Uniform, and how unfair it was. He didn't bother to join in, but was secretly grateful they had found something else other than his clothing to talk about. The food was reasonable, and at least filled him. Once he had finished, he stood to return the plate for recycling.

"You look really foxy!" someone behind him said. He jumped in surprise, and turned to see Sylvia standing behind him with her frankly fat friend Sandra.

"Um, thanks," he muttered.

"Well you do!" Sylvia went on, with obvious enthusiasm. "You've got sexy little legs. No wonder the Machine thinks you're a girl." She smiled, and he sensed that her comment wasn't supposed to be unkind, although it made him uncomfortable. Both she and Sandra watched him as he disposed of the plate, and made his way back to his table.

Richard came across later, and asked if he wanted to play football or anything after dinner. He was grateful to still be on the invitation list for such boyish activities, but he had his meeting with Karen to deal with, and beyond that knew that he would have to play in a leotard if he played at all. He declined, and Richard shrugged, before going off with the majority of the boys for the game.

The girls drifted away in smaller groups. Those on his table had turned to a discussion of the latest Maths problem they were wrestling with, one that would return in the morning to haunt him. Maths was hardly his strongest subject. Apart from the obvious relief that the meeting with the Machine in the morning might bring, he was also secretly pleased that it was going to mean he'd miss most of the Maths lesson.

"What do you think Steve?"

He was surprised at being suddenly brought into the conversation by Janet in this way. He hadn't really been listening, so he simply shrugged his head. "Steve's not so good at Maths," Jeanette reminded them all. "But he's just so good at painting and stuff, aren't you Steve?" He shrugged again. "Well you are!" she went on.

"That's true," Ellen put in, looking at him appraisingly. "I saw that picture you did of a waterfall the other week. It was beautiful."

"Oh it wasn't that good," he said, blushing a little.

"It was brilliant!" Ellen continued. "I wish I could paint like that sometimes."

"Well I suppose we should be getting back to our rooms," Sarah said, standing. "Are you coming Steve?"

"No," he responded, looking around the room, "I've got to have a chat with Karen first. About tomorrow morning."

Sarah smiled at him. "Okay. Good luck!"

Karen was still chatting with Mandy for some minutes after the other girls had left the Refectory, and Steve waited patiently at his now empty table for her. His thoughts turned to his parents once more, and how they would have simply and easily found a way out of this predicament he was in. He glanced over at Karen, nodding knowingly at something Mandy had said. Her hair was tied back in a long ponytail, reaching half way down her back, and her eyes spoke of an older and wiser soul than his. He had faith in her, and her ability to think her way through the problem they both faced. She turned, and caught him looking at her. He quickly looked away, blushing a little. She gave him a smile, and carried on with her conversation.

It was around ten minutes before the two girls stood, and Mandy left the room, down the corridor he knew led to the girls' sleeping quarters. Karen strode across the room to join him, and sat down across the table from him. "Did you want to get off to the Maths room then?" she asked. He felt strangely nervous with her sitting so near to him, which was exacerbated by her appearance of assured calm. He shook his head.

"No. Here's as good as anywhere," he said, glancing into her eyes just for a second, before turning his head away.

"You look quite at home in that skirt," she told him. "Although I'm not sure you should go commando with it."

He blushed further. "What do you mean?"

"Going without knickers," she went on, evenly. "It's a bit clingy. When you stand up, it makes your profile look a bit, well, obvious."

Oh God, he thought to himself. He had exposed himself to the whole Refectory, as well as turning up in a skirt! Why hadn't anyone told him? "Well I won't need to wear a skirt any more will I? Once we've gone to see the Machine anyway, and made it see sense."

She smiled again. "Well I'm afraid it'll probably deliver you a skirt tomorrow morning. You'll have to wear that for the meeting. But apart from that, I'm sure you're right. We'll put things right soon enough."

He felt relieved by her assurance, and smiled nervously at her. "What are we going to say to it then?"

"Well," she began. "I think we'd better just point out that I'm a girl, and that you're a boy. If needs be we can show it can't we?"

He nodded, but was worried that this approach might not work. "But it knows what I've got," he said. "This morning, it said it was something like a genital anomaly."

"Yes, it said the same to me. But I've got a secret weapon for it tomorrow. I'm bleeding! Like a stuck pig as it happens. If it doesn't believe that makes me a girl, I don't know what would work."

It took Steve a couple of seconds to remember his human biology lessons, and fully comprehend what she was talking about. The ease and comfort with which she raised the subject contrasted starkly with the furtive giggling conversations about periods he had had with Richard and Bryn.

"Well that might work for you," he mused. "But what about me? Will I need to prove I'm a boy in the same sort of way?"

She tilted her head to one side, considering this, and then smiled. "Well I suppose it won't be so easy. Perhaps you could just squirt some sperm at it!" His mouth fell open in shock. Had she really just said that? "There's no need to blush," she went on, leaning forward across the table. "I do have some idea what boys are like."

She was right, he was blushing. He blushed easily, he always had. "Well I'm not sure it would be that easy."

She leant back and shrugged. "Well I doubt it would come to that," she asserted. "You might need to show it your Willy, but I doubt if you'll have to put it to use." She stared at him for a few moments. "So is that all right then? I'll meet you at breakfast, and we'll go straight along after that."

He nodded at her. "Yes. Thanks Karen. I'm not sure I'd be able to do it on my own."

"That's' all right. I'm in the same pickle after all, aren't I? Don't worry about it."

"I won't." He hesitated for a moment. "But there is one other thing."

"What?"

"Well, I think I'd feel a bit more comfortable about it if I was doing the meeting wearing trousers. We couldn't swap again could we? Before breakfast or something?"

She sunk back into her chair, and looked across the table at his pleading eyes. "I'm sorry Steve," she said. "I understand what you're saying, but your skirts are really too small for me. I mean, all the girls are complaining about them, but wearing yours today was a nightmare. You should have heard the things your mates were saying about it."

Steve looked down at the floor. He could imagine what they would have said about seeing Karen in a skirt that was far too short for her, and too tight. He knew too, that, had things been different, he would have joined in the banter. "Well I get all sorts of things said to me about wearing skirts as well," he complained.

"But at least yours fit!" Karen exclaimed. "No, Steve. I'm sorry, but I'm not going through that again. It's only for the morning anyway. Once we've convinced the Machine that you're a boy, it'll give you some trousers to wear. I'll have to wear a Learning Uniform skirt then, you should feel sorry for me!"

Their eyes met, and Karen could see that Steve was still miserable at the prospect. She thought for a while, searching for some words of comfort, while he tried to make himself look even more miserable in the hope that she would relent. "You look good in a skirt anyway," she said at last. "I wouldn't worry about it." This seemed to make matters worse rather than better, and Steve, with a pained expression on his face, looked dolefully across at the wall.

"I'm sorry Steve, but there's no way I'm going to do it again," she said with finality. "It was almost as bad as being naked, wearing a tiny little skirt that I couldn't even do up properly. I'm sorry, but you'll just have to put up with it. Maybe you could get one of your friends to swap with you for the morning?"

He looked back at her. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Richard or Bryn. They're supposed to be your friends aren't they? Maybe one of them would wear a skirt for you, just for the morning anyway." Steve considered this. Could he really ask Richard or Bryn to do that? Would they agree to wear a skirt to help him out? He doubted it. "You never know," Karen went on. "They might have always wondered what it was like to wear one. They're more your size than I am as well."

That last bit was true. He looked at her. There was no way she was going to be swayed, and, deep inside, he knew that it was unreasonable to ask her. It would only be for the morning anyway, until they had put the Machine's mistake right. He smiled at her. "It doesn't matter," he said at last. "If one of us has to wear a skirt, and it might as well be me."

She smiled back, and put her hands across the table to take his. His heart missed a beat as she took his hands in hers. "That's the spirit," she said, squeezing his fingers gently. "Now I've got a bit of study to do before going to sleep. I'll get off. I'll see you in here for breakfast, okay?"

He nodded in reply, his hands still held firm in hers. He didn't want her to let them go, and she stood, still holding them until the last minute, when her height meant that she had to let them slip. He stood as well, and they stared at each other for a few moments more.

"Well I suppose we'd better go," Steve said at last, their eyes locked onto each other's in a sort of embrace that neither of them knew how to escape from, or take further.

"Yes," she said. But neither of them moved. Hesitantly, Steve stood on tiptoes, and leant across the table.

"Thanks Karen," he said, in a barely audible whisper, and planted a gentle kiss on her cheek. They looked at each other in confusion for a few moments more, before Steve quickly turned, and rushed down the corridor towards the girls' sleeping quarters.

Once out of sight of the Refectory, he stopped, and leant against the wall. What had that been about? He had never kissed one of his companions before. Well, that was not entirely true. He had kissed Richard in part of a game once, a few months earlier. They had taken turns to pretend each of them was a girl, and kissed. He blushed again at the memory. Oh God, that was why the Machine had decided he was a girl! Because he had pretended to be one with Richard that afternoon! If only he could go back in time, and make sure it didn't happen! Why had they done it? He couldn't remember. It was just something that seemed to be a laugh at the time.

But kissing Karen had been different. That had been entirely his idea. He had wanted to show his gratitude to her in some way, and it had seemed the best thing to do. But why had it made his stomach jump so, and why had she looked at him for so long after he had done it? She was so tall and assured, and he had allowed her to take the lead in planning their confrontation with the Machine. It had seemed the natural thing to do, because she was so clever. She had felt it was natural too, for her to be in the lead. He shook himself to try and clear his head. Well at least after the meeting he could get back to being a boy again. Maybe then he could make sense of his feelings about Karen and their kiss.

He walked along the corridor, aware now of the movement of the skirt against his bare legs. His profile, as Karen had called it, had been raised, and he had to stop for a few moments more to allow it to subside. He really should have worn some knickers to stop this happening. If any of the girls saw him as he was, they would be sure to notice, and to comment. Of course, trying to make himself subside for a time only made matters worse. Far from responding to his wishes, that part of his body renewed its excitement more than once before he felt smooth enough in profile to re enter the girls' sleeping quarters.

He walked through the archway, and smiled at Jacquie and Gloria, who were standing outside their doors wearing nothing but towels wrapped around themselves. They pulled them up higher over their bosoms indignantly as he passed, and stopped whatever conversation they had been having, watching instead his progress towards his room.

He reached the door, and was about to open it, when the door to his left opened, and Jeanette stepped out. "Hi Steve!" she greeted him brightly. "I thought it was you. Sarah and I are just having a cup of cocoa before bed. Do you want to come in and join us? Please?"

Steve was taken aback by the invitation. He thought about refusing, but remembered how kind the two girls had been to him over dinner. His profile stirred again of its own accord, and he decided that it wasn't to be trusted in its current state. "I'd love to," he said at last. "I just need to do something. I'll be round in a minute."

"Okay!" Jeanette responded, smiling brightly again. "We'll get you a cup ready."

He opened his door, and walked through, and then across to the Interface. There on the floor was what he was looking for. He picked them up, and grimaced. He was hardly comfortable with the idea of slipping on this pair of white lace panties that the Machine had provided him with earlier, but the alternative of exposing his lack of control to Jeanette and Sarah was even worse. Grimly, he stepped into them, and slid them up his legs. Stupid as the Machine was in regard to his gender, it seemed to know what size he was. The panties fitted well, and he eased himself into them, before allowing his floral skirt to drop down again. They were tight, which was good. Perhaps they would hold his errant member in sufficient check. He turned, left his room, and signalled his arrival at the door marked G13.

Sarah opened the door, and stood aside for him to enter. Jeanette's bedroom was the same size as his, but that was its only similarity. She had taken full advantage of the options to decorate and individualise. The walls were coloured in a light lilac, and here and there, there were pictures. One of her parents, and two or three of horses, her obsession, he remembered. He had teased her about it often enough, telling her that horses made excellent glue, and how they could be eaten. He had even reduced her to tears once or twice when in company with Richard, he had pressed the teasing too far. He winced at the memory, and wondered why she was being so pleasant to him in return.

"Hi Steve," she said again, standing by her Interface. She held a steaming cup out to him, which he took gratefully. Elegant, even in her jeans and T-shirt, she sat herself down on her bed, and signalled that he could take the chair by the Interface. Sarah sat on the opposite side of the bed, for which Jeanette had chosen an elaborate floral cover, not dissimilar to the material of his skirt.

"We're going to miss you when you've gone," Sarah said to him. He shook his head in puzzlement. "Tomorrow, when you go back to the boys."

"Yes," Jeanette agreed, smiling pleasantly. "It's been fun having you to look after."

"Well I'm very grateful for all your help," he muttered, remembering both that, and his previous behaviour towards them. "You've done up the room nice," he said, to change the subject.

"Thanks!" Jeanette responded, looking genuinely pleased with his comment. "I'm not sure it's entirely right, but at least I've made a start."

Steve took a sip of the cocoa. It was too hot to drink properly, but its chocolate and milky taste was a comfort. "Do you like cocoa?" Sarah asked him, sipping her own.

"It's fine. I don't have it very often."
"Oh but I'm addicted!" Sarah gasped in confession. "I'm addicted to anything with chocolate in it!"

Jeanette giggled. "Me too. But I try not to have too much. It makes you fat."

Sarah put on a pained expression. "I know, but I love it so much!"

"You're not fat," Steve told her. It was true enough. Sarah was a slim girl, with a figure, although young, that would never run to bulk.

"Thank you," she said, again with a look of genuine pleasure. "Nor are you."

"No," Jeanette agreed. "There's not many of us that would look as good as you in that skirt. My hips would be too big for a start!"

Steve looked down at his middle, and wondered what she meant. His hips were narrow, that was true, but all he could see was how ridiculous he looked as a boy wearing a floral skirt.

"Speaking of clothes," Sarah began. "I'm not too happy about the knickers the Machine gave me. They're a bit tight and clingy. I'm going to look through to see if there's some cotton ones in amongst the options tomorrow. I don't like nylon knickers, even if they're pretty."

"No," Jeanette agreed. "But I suppose most people choose them. That's why you get them unless you specify something else."

"Yeah," Sarah agreed. "What sort did the Machine give you?" she asked Steve.

He felt colour rise to his cheeks. He hardly wanted to have a conversation with two girls about underwear, especially since he had felt compelled to put some on.

"I'm not sure. I didn't really look. I think they were nylon," he muttered.

"That's right," Jeanette put in. "You didn't want to put them on did you?" He shook his head. "Well I don't blame you. Nylon's not very hygienic. Oh I know what I meant to show you Sarah!" she said, jumping up, and walking over to a cabinet beside her bed. "I got the Machine to make this up for me, what do you think?"

She handed the other girl a small vial, which Sarah took eagerly. "Oh it's lovely!" she gasped. "What colour do you call it?"

Jeanette shrugged. "I don't remember," she said. "It was in amongst the dusky pinks. But it's nice isn't it? What do you think Steve?"

Steve looked blankly at the vial, which contained some sort of pink liquid. "It's nice," he commented.

"I might try it out tomorrow," Jeanette mused. "Although my nails aren't in all that good condition."

"That's because you keep biting them," Sarah told her, with a note of scolding in her voice. "It's not good, is it Steve?"

"Err, no." he replied.

Jeanette and Sarah stared at the nail varnish intently for some time, and Steve took another sip of his cocoa. He was finding the conversation difficult, centred as it was on subjects he knew nothing about. He was rather hoping the drink would cool quickly enough for him to gulp it down, make his excuses, and leave.

"How well do you know Stuart?" Sarah suddenly asked him. He was taken aback by the question, but before he could respond, Jeanette put on a hurt expression, and poked her friend in the ribs.

"Don't ask him that!" she gasped.

"Oh don't be silly," Sarah went on. "How well do you know him Steve?"

"Well," he began. "Not that well really."

"Oh well that's a shame," Sarah observed. Jeanette gave her a look that said stop it now. "We were just wondering what sort of things he's interested in."

Steve thought about this. "Well he's always trying out electrical stuff. Wiring things up, and things like that."

"I know," Jeanette replied, with a pained look on her face. "He's more interested in wires than in people!"

Sarah giggled. "Jeanette fancies him!" she announced.
"I do not!" the other girl exclaimed. "It's just that I've got to do a Maths project with him over the next few weeks. I just wanted to know a bit more about him!"

"You do fancy him," Sarah went on, her eyes wide with excitement. "Don't worry. Steve won't say anything to him about it, will you Steve? After all, you're an honorary girl now!"

Steve winced at the alleged honour being bestowed on him, and shuffled in his seat. "No," he said at last. "I won't say anything."

"See?" Sarah said to Jeanette, smiling. "I told you he wouldn't!"

Jeanette looked across at Steve, and raised her eyebrows in a pained expression. "Well perhaps not. Anyway, why don't you ask him about Malcolm? You fancy him!"

"Jeanette!" Sarah exclaimed in consternation. "I do not! Well, not much anyway." Both the girls giggled. Steve was bemused. Malcolm was a pleasant enough boy, quite sporty, but he hadn't ever thought of him as someone the girls were likely to fancy before.

"Anyway," Sarah went on. "Nice though he is, there's no point me fancying Malcolm. He's in love with Eddie!" Steve's mouth fell open in shock. He was aware of homosexuality as a concept through his education. The idea that it might actually exist, other than in his secret kiss with Richard, was entirely alien to him.

"I suppose that's true," Jeanette conceded. "Well you'll just have to find somebody else."

"I don't think Malcolm's in love with Eddie!" Steve exclaimed. Both of the boys were quiet, or quiet compared to him, but the idea that they might be gay seemed preposterous.

"Oh they don't even know it themselves yet," Jeanette said, dismissing his objections. "But we can tell, can't we Sarah?"

"Yes! You can tell by the way they look at each other."

"Yes," Jeanette affirmed. "Don't look so shocked Steve! It's perfectly natural in its own way."

"I know," he blurted, still struggling with the idea. "But I don't think it's true."

"You boys are rubbish at spotting things like that. Trust us, we know!" Jeanette said with finality.

The two girls then did a full survey of all the children on the ship, and who fancied whom, and to what extent. They were careful to evade any revelations as to who might fancy Steve, and indeed any speculation about whom he might fancy. He sipped his cocoa, cooler now, and was nearly finished when Sarah hit him with the question he had thought had been sidestepped.

"And what about you Steve? Who do you fancy?"

"Yes you must tell us!" Jeanette added, leaning forward in a conspiratorial manner. "We told you, so you have to tell us!"

"That's right!" Sarah agreed. They both sat on the bed, looking at him with eager eyes for some confession. He shrugged.

"Well I don't really fancy anybody at the moment," he mumbled.

"Rubbish!" Sarah exclaimed. "You must fancy someone!"

"Well I don't know," he continued, feeling yet again the colour rising in his cheeks. "Jacquie's very pretty."
"Oh pooh!" said Sarah in response. "Everybody says that."
"Even Jacquie!" Jeanette put in.

"So you must have a secret crush on someone else. You can tell us."

"Yes," Jeanette agreed. "You're an honorary girl remember. That's means we won't tell her."

"No," agreed Sarah. They continued to stare at him eagerly, and he knew that he would have to give some name or other eventually.

"Perhaps we can guess!" Jeanette suggested.

"Yes. Let me think. I know! Janet! You used to live next door to her didn't you?"

"Yes," he agreed. "But I don't really fancy her."

"You used to play with her a lot when you were little," Sarah remembered. So did Steve, suddenly; lazy afternoons when they were both about five or six. Janet had made him play with her dolls and teddie bears. Oh God, that was probably another reason the Machine had mistaken him for a girl.

"Well if it's not Janet," Sarah went on. "It must be Karen!"

"Oh yes, it must be!" Jeanette agreed, clapping her hands together. "You fancy Karen don't you?"

"Err, well up to a point," Steve mumbled, his cheeks now on fire.

"Aw but that's so sweet!" Sarah exclaimed. "Especially with you and her changing sexes together!"

"Yes," agreed Jeanette. "It's perfect."

"Well I don't know that I fancy her as such," Steve went on, struggling to keep up with this. "But she's been quite nice to me since this morning."

"That's true love!" Sarah asserted, grinning broadly at Steve. "Don't worry darling, we won't tell her. Or anybody else!"
"No of course not," Jeanette agreed. "But if you like, we could think of ways to get her to notice you."

"I would have thought walking around the ship wearing her skirt makes her notice me well enough," Steve said bleakly.

Jeanette giggled. "Well maybe, but we could probably think of other ways as well! We'll give it some thought, and let you know."
"Yes," agreed Sarah.

Steve finished the rest of his cocoa, and stood up abruptly. "Well I'm feeling a bit tired," he said. "I think I'll get myself off to bed. I'll be," he hesitated. "Using the toilet in a minute, if that's all right Sarah."

"Of course," she replied.

"And I suppose you'll need a shower in the morning?" Jeanette asked him.

"Well, I'll probably wait until I'm back in the boys' sleeping quarters," he replied. "Thanks for the cocoa."

"It's our pleasure!" Jeanette beamed, and they both watched him walk towards the door. "And putting those knickers on was a good idea by the way, it makes your skirt hang much better."

He had his back to them, but they could see him suddenly tense up at the realisation that his knickers had been spotted. They giggled gently to themselves, as he touched the panel by the door to let himself out. Steve quickly got into his room, and shut his eyes in shame. How had they noticed that he'd put on the knickers? Jeanette had said that the skirt was a bit see-through earlier, that must be it. He moved across to the mirror. He could see the vague outline of the knickers through the flimsy material of the skirt. He cursed. If Sarah and Jeanette thought that Eddie and Malcolm were gay, what would they think of him now that they knew he had deliberately put on girl's underwear?

He tore of the skirt and the top, and threw them into the recycle chute. He pulled the knickers down with venom, and lobbed them in after. The Interface chuntered, and them swallowed them. "Good riddance!" he muttered to himself, and sat at the keyboard to select some pyjamas. Naturally enough, he only had access to feminine ones. He grimaced as he looked at the selection of sleepwear available, skipping quickly past the nightdresses, and down onto the pyjama section. There were some ridiculously girly ones there, but he managed to find a pair in fairly plain mauve, without decoration or motive. He clicked on these to select them.

"This item is not available to G11 at the present time," the screen informed him. His heart came into his mouth. Surely the stupid Machine wasn't going to ban him from wearing trousers even to sleep in? He selected another pair, with the same result, and then a third. The bloody thing wanted him to have a nightie for God's sake. He thought for a moment about sleeping naked, but knew that the heating in the ship was turned quite low at night. He had never slept naked in his life, and it seemed a perverse thing to do. With a huge sigh of resignation, he clicked on the least offensive of the nightdresses, a long one with pastel flowers on it. The Interface clicked and whirred to itself for a second or to, and then delivered his selection into the chute.

He picked it up, held it out in front of him, and grimaced. It felt silky and smooth, and had flimsy little shoulder straps like the ones his mother had worn. He nearly threw it onto the floor in disgust, but sighing again, stepped into the neck, and pulled it slowly up. Rather than feeling horrible, as he imagined, the soft silky material felt rather nice as it clung to his body. He slipped his arms through the straps, and, without thinking, went over to the mirror to look at himself. It didn't look too bad, he decided. Not that anyone else would ever see it of course, he reminded himself, and just as well too. He climbed into his bed, dimmed the lights, and went to sleep.

  

  

  

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