Live Long and Prosper            by: Brandy Dewinter               © 2000, All rights reserved

 

Chapter 8 - "Medical Mystery"

Lainey and I stood there for a couple of minutes, sharing a moment of silence that recognized we each knew enough of what the other was thinking that words were unnecessary. That moment was broken by the raucous dissonance of a gull’s screech, and we both jerked like we were hooked to a voice-activated shock.

"I should have seen that coming," Lainey said.

"Yeah, me too." And I knew she wasn’t talking about the seagull.

She looked at me sharply and said, "Are you okay?"

I just shrugged.

"You believe her, don’t you?" Lainey said, picking up on something I hadn’t wanted to admit.

"It was her eyes," I said quietly. "She has very old eyes. Did you notice? There was a . . . there wasn’t any innocence left in them. I don’t think, maybe I don’t want to believe, that being raped could do that. Not in a girl that young."

"I believe her, too," Lainey said, "but don’t underestimate the trauma of rape, especially in a girl that young."

"And isn’t that just the most ugly thing of all? But it was more than that. It was . . . maybe when she was talking about her own rape. It wasn’t fear or whatever I saw then. It was . . . she was . . . not horrified any more. That’s what I meant by old eyes."

Lainey put her arms around me and we just held each other for a couple of minutes, then that damn gull shrieked again and broke the mood.

I looked up into her eyes - she was taller than me now - and said, "I suppose we should look after our own problems."

The envelope was still on the cockpit cushion. I picked it up, but instead of opening it, I handed it to Lainey. "Your French is better than mine."

She opened the file and began to read, summarizing it as she absorbed the content. "Let’s see, here’s the raw data, doesn’t mean much to me but we can feed it to the medical application later. They sure got a lot of data from our blood. I wonder if they learned anything . . . oh, yeah, here it is. ‘Interpretation of Results.’ ‘On the basis of this blood sample, the patients would appear to be in excellent physical health. No evidence of disease was found, neither active nor recently passed. White blood counts are normal, with all ordinary blood components fully formed and healthy. Histamine levels are low, indicating no significant allergic reactions. Very little presence of CO bonded to hemoglobin.

All in all nominal aging indicators would place the subjects in mid-20’s to perhaps early thirties if they have been leading a particularly healthy lifestyle.’"

Lainey looked up and said, "Goodness, that’s nice to know. I haven’t been mistaken for being in my 30’s for a good many years."

"Less for you than me," I said. "You were still getting carded when you were 35. Get to the rest of it."

She skimmed through a few more boilerplate results, then found a section titled, Anomalies. "’Despite the apparent indicated age of most blood components’," she read, translating as she went, "’there are unusually high concentrations of sexual hormones, more consistent with puberty than mature adulthood. There is no positive rationale for this, including such hormone-distorting events as pregnancy or menses, neither of which is present in the female patient.’ Well, it’s nice to know I’m not pregnant, or menstruating. I’m glad to be done with both of those."

"Is that it?"

"All for that section, let me see what else is here," she said, flipping through a few more pages. She started reading again, her voice starting out brisk and efficient, though it didn’t stay that way. "Oh, here’s something about a clerical error. ‘In the course of the analysis, it became clear that some elements of the associated patient information were in error. The sample labeled A. Bridger is clearly that of a female, as confirmed by chromosome review. Multiple cells were checked and they all contain an XX pair. The sample labeled E. Bridger is clearly male by the same analysis which shows XY in every cell that has a nucleus. While understandable when samples are taken from a couple at the same time, better care in record-keeping is vitally important. . ‘ yada, yada."

Lainey just looked at me, a question in her eyes that I didn’t want to answer. I tried an option so weak even I knew it was useless, "Could they really have switched something?"

She didn’t bother to answer, just wrapping her arms around me. I suppose I should have been more emotional about it, denying it or even just venting from shock, but in my heart I expected it. Nothing in known medical science would explain what happened to us. I knew that before we even had our tests. So much for ‘falling’ overboard on a dark night to save Elaine from the costs of my cancer treatments.

I heard the report papers rustle a bit. Shrugging clear of Lainey’s arms, I asked, "Is there anything else?"

"The technician suggests that the patients be requested to provide another sample so that the hormone anomalies can be explored, but there’s no sense of urgency. At least, not for him. Do you want to do that?"

"We both know there’s no point to that," I said. "What do you want to do?"

"We need to go back to Tirce’s Island, of course," she said.

"Reyna said Tirce threatened her with something terrible if she ever came back."

Lainey nodded, but she said, "But she didn’t say that to us. I think she expected us to come back."

"You may be right. In any event, it looks like the only way to fix this is there."

I expected her to agree, but she just looked at me for a moment. Then she did nod, but I’m not sure just what that nod signified. It established enough agreement to make our next moves clear, though, so we set about getting ready for sea again. That took all the remainder of the morning and a bit of the afternoon as well. It didn’t help when we finally got underway that I couldn’t raise the sails. I had to have her help on all of them. By that time it had gotten hot, and before we were past the breakwater I was sweating in those long stretch pants I had put on again that morning. Lainey was not much more comfortable.

"Go take a shower and find some shorts," she ordered. "I’ll take the first watch."

Easier said than done. Well, actually, taking a shower was easy of course. But finding the shorts was not. Nothing I had fit any more. Even the Speedo trunks were bunching around the waist and no longer snug at all at the hips. That kept surprising me, because my hips looked a lot larger. They were rounder, and seemed to swell enormously from my waist, and they just felt . . . fat. Like there were inches of fat between my bones and the outside world. I was grumping to myself again when I heard Lainey call.

"What’s taking you so long?"

"Nothing fits."

"Oh, yeah. Well, I picked up something for you while I was in town.

Check that brown bag I left in the starboard locker under the bed."

The bag she mentioned had some sort of neutral gym shorts in a couple of sizes. The medium ones fit fairly well, and I managed to find a clean t-shirt. We hadn’t spent enough time in Taiohae to do our laundry, so clothes might get to be a problem before long.

"That takes care of the shorts," I called through the companionway.

"Did you get me some new underwear, too?"

She didn’t answer, so I went closer to the hatch and started to call up again. She interrupted me, though, and said, "Yes, but I’m not sure you’ll like them."

"What did you do?" I asked, but I was afraid I already knew the answer.

"Try the white sack," she said.

"Bikini panties?!" I yelled after I looked.

I was getting warmed up for to tell her what I thought of her ‘joke’, when she said, "Wait just a second, and listen. Your waist is still shrinking, and I don’t know how far it will go, but in the last couple of days your hips have stayed pretty much the same. So I got you some underwear that fits on your hips. That’s all."

"That is NOT all," I snapped. "What’s with all the colors? I have never worn PINK underwear in my life, and I’m not going to start now."

"Then wear the blue ones," she said. "It was a set. Half off."

"I’ll bet. I heard the laughter in that last remark."

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," she said, but I know if I’d have been on deck, she’d have been fighting to hide a smirk.

"That’s the last time I ever let you shop for clothes for me," I grumped while I pulled the shiny, powder-blue panties up my legs. The smooth, soft, cool . . . I pulled a pair of exercise shorts on quickly. There was also a new exercise bra in the sack, so I didn’t have to jiggle. That’s not all that was in the sack, but I was not even going to consider the rest.

Despite my intention to be, um, neutral in my clothes, when I went back on deck, I found Lainey watching with an interest I didn’t remember seeing before. It . . . interested me, too. I felt flattered by her attention, and I sort of slowed down, moving with as much smooth grace as I could instead of, whatever I used to do. I’m not sure how to describe the difference, really, but it felt right when I did it.

"You look good," Lainey said.

"Thanks," I said, flipping my hair over my shoulder while I bent to kiss her.

And felt her whiskers.

"Oh, that’s not very . . . I mean, . . . um, . . nothing."

"I know what you mean, dear," Lainey said. "Put your vest on and take the wheel."

"You don’t have to do anything special, just for me," I offered.

"I’m not, just for you that is," she said, then the grin she’d been suppressing would no longer be denied. "But there is something you could do just for me."

"What?"

"Next time you take a shower, shave your legs. They look too good for . . . that," she said, pointing at the scraggly darkness showing below my shorts.

"Yours are just as bad," I said, self-consciously trying to cover one leg with the other, like that would help or something.

"Um, well, not really, since my hair is blonde. But, suit yourself."

I hate it when she does that. She knows that when she’s asked for something as a favor, not because it’s ‘fair’ or I owe her or anything I can argue about, that I always give in. I figured out how to get her this time, though.

"Only if you do the same."

Lainey smirked and nodded, "Fine." Then she disappeared below.

So much for that. Lainey had been shaving her legs for a long time and it wouldn’t bother her a bit. In a few minutes, I heard the shower start, so I went to the filter cycle and worked on it for a while. As it sometimes does, the mindless exercise helped me get my thoughts in order a little better, and when Lainey came back on deck with an early supper, I had some things to talk about. So did she.

We did the both-talk-together thing and then chuckled. This time, I went first. But it wasn’t what I had intended to talk about.

"If our timing stays that good, then we haven’t lost everything."

"No, not everything," she replied quietly. I waited for her to say something more, but her readiness seemed to have vanished so I started again.

"Lainey, did you really think I would be better off as a girl?"

"Huh," she said, surprised.

"You said you wished for that," I reminded her.

She shook her head, "Not really. I just wished you could be more spontaneous and, oh, exuberant, like a cheerleader. It was an image, not really an end state."

"Oh."

Now it was her turn to ask, "Why?"

"Um, nothing, really, but, well, buying me women’s underwear, and this sports bra, and, um, yesterday I thought you were thinking about handing me a skirt to wear."

"Would you like that?"

"No!" I said quickly. Then I calmed down and said, "Not really. I guess I don’t see myself as a woman, regardless of those chromosome tests."

Lainey nodded, then quietly asked, "How do you see me?"

"I don’t know," I admitted. "For a while, I was afraid you were really angry about something, with your brow and chin so . . firm. But now that I see it as just, um, masculine, well, it’s okay. I’m hardly an expert in the attractiveness of men, but you’re a lot better looking than I ever was. I guess the bottom line is that you look fine to me. Different, but okay."

Before she said anything more, I realized something I hadn’t thought of, "And you know what else? I like it when you hold me. I like feeling that I can relax and that you will take care of me. I’m sorry, but it’s true."

Lainey gave a very unladylike snort and said, "Why in the world are you sorry?"

"Hmm? Well . . . because. I’m not, offering what you . . . what I promised to you, all those years ago."

"So?"

"Huh? What sort of question is that?"

"A fair one, I think," she said. "Look, I was thinking while I was in the shower, and I have an idea you might not like, but I have to admit that I do."

"Uh, oh," I said, but I nodded for her to continue.

Instead of getting right to the point, she asked a question. "How long do you think it take to get back to Tirce’s Island."

"Four or five days anyway," I answered. "Maybe a week, since it’s against the trade winds."

Lainey nodded, then took a deep breath as though she had to gather her strength for the next part. "Okay, here’s my idea. Even if Tirce changes us back, this is a chance for us both to gain some unique experiences. I think, for the next few days until we get there, that we ought to, well, be what we are now."

"What we are?"

She looked a little embarrassed, but firmed up her expression and said, "Yes, you’re a, well, a girl, and I’m a man. That’s what the chromosomes say."

I tried not to show any dismay, only acceptance of a premise for rational discussion. "Just what did you, um, have in mind?"

"Oh, I don’t know," she admitted. "I’m as new to this as you are, but I think it could be fun." She laughed and said, "You could cook and do the dishes, and I could sit here and pretend to think deep thoughts."

"Oh, you," I laughed. "Like hell I will. Besides, you like cooking."

"Yes. I do. And that’s not really what I mean, of course. It’s just that I think we could, I don’t know, relax or something and just accept it for this week."

"I don’t know. I’m not sure what that means, yet."

"I guess we’ll have to make it up as we go along," she said, then she obviously decided to change the subject. "Regardless, we still need to sail the Breeze. Do you want to stick with our usual schedule? If so, you better go get some sleep."

"Aye, aye, Captain," I said, but in truth I was glad for the excuse as well. It seemed a lot of my thoughts while I pedaled were both right and wrong. And I had a lot more thinking to do.

****************************************

Log of the Twilight Breeze
23 October 2004
Long 141.24 deg. W
Lat 9.52 deg. S

(At sea)

I’ve missed out on a log entry the last couple of evenings, but I’m not going to try and recount everything that happened. We were in Taiohae, so there’s nothing about the Breeze to report anyway. However, there were two events of note. One was meeting a thin little girl, maybe 14, named Reyna. Her story is at least ‘amazing’, and I don’t think I’ll ever forget her. I’m not sure I believe everything she said, and I am sure there were a lot of other things she didn’t say, but the most important aspect of meeting her as far as we were concerned, was that she said she had been transformed by Tirce from a boy into a girl, with some particularly unpleasant additional factors. It is at least another data point that says that strange old woman really does have some sort of magical powers.

The second event of note is that we received the results from a series of medical tests, and they have convinced Adam that there is no scientific explanation for what happened to us. At least, nothing that a conventional hospital will be able to understand. As a consequence, we are again at sea, headed BACK to Tirce’s Island.

Our test results indicated that what I suspected was true. Adam is becoming a young woman (a most ‘becoming’ one indeed) and I am being transformed into a man. In fact, as far as our chromosomes are concerned, the transformation has already happened.

And I am glad.

Two days ago I wouldn’t have said that. Two days ago, I was a woman with an ugly face and a tendency to grow whiskers on that face. Two days ago I was weak.

I never knew how much I was missing out on by being physically weak. As a woman, I was fit and healthy, always slender but that is in fact a desirable condition - for a woman. But already I feel stronger than I have ever felt before, and I just know the transformation is not complete. I could have raised the sails on the Breeze by myself today, and easily. Officially, all I did was ‘help’ Adam, but I know that saying so was more charity than truth.

There are other things, too. I am going to be tall, I think. Taller than Adam was for sure. That’s not as important for a woman, but in my heart I know that it is very important for a man. I will be tall enough to look most men in the eye, and I am finding that to be a very satisfying image.

Oh, and here’s a fringe benefit I never considered to be important, but found wonderfully convenient. Today I stood up to pee. Does that sound trivial? I don’t care. I was, well, I guess it was part of that power thing. I felt more in control, less vulnerable. It was a ‘manly’ thing to do. Ha! More importantly, despite the advantages the physical, whether strength or height, is not the most important aspect of this.

I am finding that I really like the idea of being a man, of being the protector . . . and the aggressor. I suppose I was too much a creature of my culture, but I was just never comfortable being aggressive in most social situations, least of all in the bedroom. I was content, I thought, to ‘suggest’ when I was in the mood in a variety of ways, then allow myself to be swept up in Adam’s ‘plan’ for how things should go. Now, I find myself getting excited at the prospect of using all this strength and power to control the intimacy, not in a selfish way, but in a very, very satisfying way. For both of us. I find myself slipping into the aggressive role in other ways, too. I didn’t even realize it until later, but I made the decision to return to Tirce’s island myself, and didn’t find that at all strange.

And I’m finding that I am as visually stimulated as I have always known men to be. I suppose that might be in part self-fulfilling since I am so sure that it is a true aspect of most men, but I am also very sure that I really enjoy the way Adam is looking. Her face is going to be very pretty. I can see her bones becoming more delicate, her eyes look larger even without any makeup, and her lips are so full and red I wonder if they hurt. Her body is becoming very attractive as well. Her legs are sleek and supple, her waist is slender, and gives a wonderful accent to the swell of her hips. I draws attention to my ‘target’ in a powerful way, a very arousing way.

Indeed, that might almost be a downside to this, at least for a while. I am finding myself aroused often. And it tends to be very distracting, very demanding. At times, it seems to be all that I can think of, especially when I see Adam’s long legs in those cute little exercise shorts I got for her.

Ah, I see that I have been referring to Adam as ‘her’ again. That is how I see her now. I’m going to have to do something about her name. She surely doesn’t look like an Adam any more. Hmm, maybe ‘Anya’.

Yes, I think I like that.

I’ll ask her when she comes on deck if she’d like that name.

Not surprisingly, there is a stinger in all this honey. Adam, that is, Anya is not nearly as excited about this transition as I am. I suppose that’s the culture thing again. I have always been able to wear just about anything I wanted, do my hair long or short, where heels or flats, all the options were on the woman’s side, and none seemed particularly ‘special’ or desirable, just expedient. Facing a life of wearing pants is not disturbing at all, certainly not enough to undermine my delight in this wonderful strength.

Anya faces the opposite problem. The things ‘she’ will have to learn to accept were always forbidden to her before. Yet she needs to embrace them fully or she will always feel uncomfortable. I don’t want that for her, at all, and if the price of her happiness is a reverse transformation, so be it. That’s why we’re on our way back to Tirce’s Island. But if it becomes possible for her to be happy while remaining Anya, then I know I will not petition Tirce to change us back.

But I will also not force Anya to accept this, though I hope she will give it a try until we reach Tirce. Our shipboard schedule means that we actually have a lot of privacy in our cabin with one person always on deck. I’ve used that privacy to hide my own changes from Anya. She doesn’t know that I’ve grown a man’s equipment, nor that my vagina has disappeared, leaving no opening at all. The only thing that is not ‘normal, is that my labia have not fully formed into testes, and I have no idea if my ovaries are going to show up externally at some point. Maybe I’ll be infertile as a man, which might be a good thing anyway. In any event, I’ve let Anya try and absorb her own changes without what might be a distressing comparison to mine.

End log entry
Elaine Bridger

PS. I suppose I’ll need another name, too.

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(continued in Part 9)

 

 

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Live Long and Prosper © 2000 by Brandy Dewinter. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.