Author's Note: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of the figures portrayed to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental and unintended.

Many thanks to Lesley for her gracious assistance and invaluable input.

 

Scrambled Souls                            by: Julia Manchester

 

Part 2

CHAPTER SEVEN

Over the next couple of days the word that everyone was stuck in their present form spread through the colony, and a pall of despair descended on the immigrants. The shocking realization that they were changed forever was especially hard among those who found themselves reincarnated as the opposite sex, but nearly everyone was devastated in some manner. There were many couples that were now both male or both female or completely reversed, and many where their ages now varied greatly. Children often occupied bodies that were significantly older than their parents’ new forms, and the knowledge and experience of several key personnel had been lost to the same mental regression that victimized Jeff Ellis, Dan McNeil, Jr. and Vicky.

Even more than the individual trauma, the consequences to the colony as a whole were grave. Two doctors, several scientists and engineers, and various other specialists were completely incapable of performing their anticipated duties. Many males who had occupied the skilled trades positions were children now, or in female bodies that were simply incapable of the physical exertions necessary to do their jobs -- several as a result of pregnancy -- and the women or former children who now occupied their adult male bodies lacked the expertise to fill their roles. As a result only the most basic tasks were being performed.

Fortunately Larry Taylor proved to be a truly gifted leader, and without his efforts the colony would have been doomed. He seemed to be everywhere, listening to problems, organizing work crews, planning temporary solutions, appointing new department chiefs and looking ahead to future needs. The carefully crafted plan that he had helped create back on earth was trashed, so he made a new plan as he went along, and it seemed to be working. He didn’t sleep for the first three days, and when he finally collapsed on a cot the entire colony was sleeping in temporary shelters and was supplied with food, water, utilities and sanitary units. There was an enormous amount of work ahead but nobody would perish from a lack of basic necessities.

____________________

Dan checked the computer screen, comparing the identification codes with the bin numbers of the personal effects. Larry had asked him to lend a hand at Colonial Headquarters, which now consisted of a communications center and several computers sitting on a few tables in a temporary shelter. It was the fourth day on the new world, two days after Dan discovered he was pregnant, and he was now getting to the point where he could function a little. He had been completely devastated by the news and unable to break through the shock for a day and a half following Karen’s disclosure, but Larry had come to him personally and asked for his help. Dan knew how pressed and stressed Larry was so he forced himself to get out of his cot and report to the "White House," as the temporary shelter was jokingly dubbed.

The shelter was divided into an office and conference room in one half, and the commo/computer area and a small reception area on the other side. Larry was in the conference room with several crew chiefs, in one of his endless meetings, while Dan manned the other side. He had several urgent messages for Larry and he was constantly being interrupted while he tried to finish the schedule for transferring personal effects.

The schedule was important because the colonists had been living in the clothes on their backs for four days, and there was only so much the clothes processors could do. They had to get into their clothing and personal effects to continue to function. But each person had brought along photos, tapes and other memorabilia that was uniquely personal. Scrapbooks, letters from family members, small family heirlooms, and other such items couldn’t just be given to the person who now occupied another’s body -- It wasn’t right. So Larry had come up with the idea of having both the new and the former occupant of each body meet and divide the contents of each storage bin.

Of course that meant that each person in the colony would see their old body and the person who had once occupied their current form, but Allen Goethe had assured Larry and the council that such a meeting was a good idea. Al had explained that such meetings were inevitable and were in fact occurring every day. They all had to get used to seeing their former body walking around, and by doing it in a systematic way they could intervene if anyone had a major problem. The Council, or what was left of it anyway, agreed.

Dan was trying to concentrate on the schedule because it kept his mind off his own situation, for the most part, but every so often he was reminded of his predicament, such as when the name of his "body donor" came up on the list. Joy (Lucas) Spencer, age 20, mother - to - be, was now a 42 year old man, and Dan had no doubt that she would jump at the chance to switch with him, but that didn’t make it any easier for him. Regardless of what either or both of them wanted they were stuck as they were, and now HE was the pregnant blonde with the big tits.

Visions of seeing his belly begin to swell haunted Dan. He dreaded the thought that he would grow increasingly huge until he could only waddle, that his body’s hormones would make his large boobs swell even more and produce milk, and that he would have to suffer the agonies of labor and childbirth. He shuddered at the thought of wild mood swings, weird cravings, and constant trips to the bathroom. He thought back to all the books, movies and television shows he’d seen depicting the problems of pregnancy and he couldn’t remember one good thing about being pregnant, except it eventually ended. He’d helped Patty through 3 pregnancies and knew that it was like a degenerative disease that was completely disabling towards the end. How she could have put herself through that not only once but three times was a complete mystery to him, and the fact that he wouldn’t begin to "show" for a couple of months was no consolation either. Dan knew there was no such thing as being "a little bit pregnant."

Of course Patty’s motivation to carry their children had been love. She loved him and she loved their unborn child just as much. She wanted to have his babies and raise them as she been raised. But Dan had no such feelings to motivate him. He didn’t know who the father was, and even if he did he could never love another man, and he felt no emotional bond to the baby either. It was simply there, inside him, and that was all. He was neither its father nor its true mother and he didn’t want to be burdened with it. The Colonial Charter forbade abortion, and unless Dan could talk the Council into amending the Charter he was stuck with going through childbirth, but there was no regulation that required him to keep it after it was born.

Karen had given him a prescription for his morning sickness and it seemed to help. The nauseousness was greatly diminished, if not completely defeated, and he could now eat a little without throwing up. That made life a little more bearable, and Karen’s assurance that it would disappear entirely after a few weeks helped too. He didn’t care for the special vitamin supplements she had given him, but he really hated the examinations.

Dan shuddered again when he recalled the pelvic examination he’d been forced to endure right after Karen’s disclosure. She had ordered him to remove his clothing and put on a short gown, then climb up on an examination table. Karen constructed two contraptions, one on each side near the base of the table, while Dan lay flat on his back. After she finished she helped him put his feet in the "stirrups," which held his feet in the air his legs apart, and lifted his bottom to expose his new vagina to anyone who cared to look. He felt completely helpless and exposed, and when Jack Van Werkom, a guy he had played cards with, entered the room Dan was absolutely mortified.

The actual exam was even worse. Dan heard the snap of rubber gloves, then cringed when he felt himself being swabbed with a lubricant. When he felt Jack’s finger actually enter him Dan gasped, and when Jack probed deeper Dan felt something inside of him light off like a rocket, and his whole body convulsed. Jack took a pap smear, pronounced him in excellent shape, and left the room before Dan was helped to a sitting position. At least he hadn’t hung around to make small talk about the Superbowl or the World Series, Dan noticed thankfully. The last thing he wanted to do right then was face one of his buddies. Though Karen assured him that many women experienced similar "episodes" during a pelvic and that Jack was used to them, Dan still felt horribly embarrassed. What was worse, he was supposed to come in every three weeks for follow up exams.

Dan couldn’t bear to think about his pregnancy and everything that went with it, and he made Karen swear she would not tell a soul about his condition. In fact, he even concealed it from Patty, and only partly because of his embarrassment. So he threw himself into his work and spent long hours helping Larry and the others get things under control. By the end of the day the schedule was ready, and when Larry approved it he asked Dan to make copies and distribute them to all the holding areas.

____________________

Dennis McNeil wandered along the white sand beach and looked out at the seemingly endless horizon of the great ocean. As with Earth’s oceans it was salty, but to a far lesser degree. He had been told that this body of water was half again as large as the Pacific, and as impressive as that seemed the most startling aspect of the ocean was its incredible color. It was crystal clear and blue as topaz, like pictures of the Caribbean in a National Geographic. Dennis had never seen anything like it.

Perhaps all tropical seas had that deep blue tint, Dennis didn’t have the experience to know. But between the ocean, the weather, the broad, sugar sand beach, and the lush vegetation New America could be mistaken for Eden, if not for the technical glitch that turned him into a 15 year old girl. Dennis sighed and sat down on the beach cross-legged and looked out at the endless rows of three-foot waves that struck the beach with a military precision. The sound of the rollers colliding with the gently sloped beach was almost hypnotic, and the froth of the whitecaps in the distance appeared like delicate lace in the afternoon sunshine. Where did they all come from, he wondered? It seemed that the ocean had an inexhaustible supply.

Despite the breeze it was uncomfortably warm and Dennis was perspiring inside his tight blue jumpsuit. He felt a bead of perspiration trickle down between his shoulderblades and he unzipped his jumpsuit down to his waist and held the front open to let a little air in. It felt marvelous and Dennis looked over his shoulder, back in the direction of the settlement. He was nearly half a kilometer down the beach and there was nobody in sight so he pulled his arms out of the sleeves and shrugged the jumpsuit off his back. The soft, scented breeze felt and tasted wonderful and Dennis tied the arms of his jumpsuit around his narrow waist. After all he wasn’t topless -- he was wearing the pale blue bra he had awakened in -- which wasn’t really that different from a girl’s bikini top, he reasoned. He resented having to worry about keeping his chest covered, but there really wasn’t much he could do about it. He did what was expected of any girl, but it was as much due to his embarrassment at having breasts as any desire to follow the normal conventions.

After looking around again he proceeded to remove his white sweat socks and white and pink cross-trainers. The warm sand felt great between his dainty toes, and he ignored the seashell pink nail polish on his small toenails. The polish matched the color of his manicured fingernails, which were thankfully fairly short. They only extended an eighth of an inch beyond his fingers, which was far enough to his way of thinking.

Dennis decided to walk further down the beach despite his father’s warning not to go too far, so he pulled the legs of his jumpsuit up to his knees, stuffed his socks in his shoes and carried them to the water’s edge. He strolled down the shoreline on the wet sand, fixing his gaze on a jagged rock that emerged from the sea just off a point in the distance. The rock reminded him of a crudely - shaped arrowhead and Dennis imagined it as a perfect site for an old-fashioned lighthouse. He set the point as his goal and continued on, taking in the new and wondrous sights.

The colonists had been warned not to go swimming until the scientific staff had completed a detailed analysis of the ocean’s shallows. They knew the water was safe, but there was a chance that predators or other nasty surprises awaited them so caution was the order of the day. But with the problems faced by the colony the analysis had slid far down the list of priorities, and it looked like it would be weeks before anyone got around to it. An avid swimmer, Dennis chaffed under the restriction and he longed for a chance to plunge into the surf, and he questioned the need for a study. He’d come down to the ocean every day since their arrival and he’d not seen one thing that looked remotely harmful. All he had seen were tiny minnow-like fish, small shellfish, a bit of seaweed here and there, and driftwood -- absolutely nothing unusual.

When he was halfway to the arrowhead rock he stopped, paused for a moment, then approached the water. He carefully dipped the toes of one foot into the foam of a spent wave and felt nothing but wonderfully warm, bubbling water. After three more waves had tickled his toes he decided it was safe to wade along the beach instead of walking on the sand, and he made sure the legs of his jumpsuit were well above his knees, then walked a few feet out into the water. It felt great, too, with the temperature in the low 80s and the froth massaging his legs. He remained close to the sand as he continued on, looking for seashells as he moved down along the curving stretch of beach. The waves came up to his knees and the bottom of his jumpsuit got a little wet but Dennis really didn’t care. For the first time since their arrival he was enjoying himself.

As he neared the point Dennis looked towards the rocky cliff that came to within thirty meters of the beach. It’s sheer vertical face looked like limestone, but of course on New America that really meant nothing. Its base was serrated, as if millions of years of wind and water had hollowed out indentations in the face, and Dennis thought those areas would be perfect for beach parties and bonfires. They were open to the ocean and not really caves, but they would provide some protection from the wind. After staring out at the rocky monolith that lay two hundred meters offshore he turned and walked towards the cliff to explore the three-sided niches.

The rock was indeed similar to limestone, and eons of wind and water had worn it very smooth to the touch. Each little area was practically filled with sand, and Dennis could tell from the patterns that the prevailing wind was from the southwest. He sat down and stared out at the ocean, noticing that the wind was far less strong, as he had guessed. The place was perfect for beach parties, and as he considered everything he had discovered Dennis decided that the place was secluded enough for him to get out of his jumpsuit entirely and soak up a few rays.

He stood up and untied the arms of his jumpsuit from around his waist, then he pulled the long zipper down and hopped on one leg as he pulled his other foot free of the suit. When he was done he took the suit out onto the beach and laid it down careful on the sand to use as a blanket. He still detested the way his newly-acquired breasts shifted and bounced and jiggled and swayed when he moved, despite his bra, and he hated the tight, matching French-cut panties almost as much as the bra, but they looked no different than a girl’s two piece swimsuit so he figured he wouldn’t get in any trouble if someone did happen to see him.

Dennis didn’t have any suntan lotion or sun block, but he didn’t intend to lay out for a long time anyway. He sat down and looked around one more time, and when he didn’t see anyone around he laid back and closed his eyes, intending to turn over in a few minutes. He shielded himself from the glare of the sun by laying a forearm across his eyes. He relaxed, listening to the sound of the surf while he soaked up the rays and felt the sun permeate his entire body. It seemed to ease the tension he had felt since his awakening, and he quickly fell into a languid drowsiness. As his mind began to drift he recalled various events and situations that had occurred over the past four days.

The absolute chaos caused by the program failure had been terrible, and finding himself inhabiting the body of a 15 year old girl had been an incredible shock, but the implications of the calamity were just beginning to be felt as far as Dennis was concerned. His father was now a gorgeous babe, his mother a muscular young man, and his older brother a babbling little five year old girl. His sister Linda seemed to have come through the mess with the least trauma since she was still the same gender and only four years younger than her previous age. But she had been severely shaken by the ordeal.

The program failure was destroying their family, Dennis realized. His mother and father were acting like strangers to each other, which in a sense they were now, but with his brother’s mental regression and everyone feeling extremely self-conscious, there was no sense of unity, no cohesiveness, and Dennis missed that more than he cared to admit. He really needed his family now but everyone was behaving so strangely he wasn’t certain he had a family anymore.

Dennis sat up and turned over to lie on his stomach after a few minutes, and that simple act distracted him from his previous train of thought. As he turned over he felt his breasts hang slightly in the cups of his bra, and when he laid down he felt them being pressed against his jumpsuit. It was such a strange sensation for a young male of 18 that he held himself up and looked down at his new set of boobs. He had never imagined he would see breasts hanging from his own chest, and he studied them intently until his weak arms would no longer support his weight. He lowered himself, noticing that something else was very different. His "family jewels" were notable by their absence, and without them his pelvis lay completely flat against the sand.

Thinking about his change of sex led him to consider the long-term implications of his situation. According to what everybody was saying the entire colony was stuck as they were, at least for 30 - some years, which seemed like an eternity to an 18 year old. If that was the case he couldn’t expect to be freed from his female prison until his present form was 46 or 47, and Dennis knew that he couldn’t just put his life on hold. He would have to adapt and function as a female, with all that entailed. If he dated he would date boys, if he married he would be the bride, and if he had sex he would be the one on the receiving end. Worst of all, if he had children he would be their mother, becoming pregnant, enduring labor and the pain of childbirth. Dennis did not feel ashamed or humiliated by his situation because he had no choice in the matter, but he truly doubted if he could possibly love a man or willingly give birth. The problem was the colonists had adopted those damned regulations designed to increase the population. Dennis hadn’t thought too much about them at the time, but he was giving them a lot of thought now.

Dennis got to his feet, perhaps due to an instinctive reaction to escape, to run away, but he suddenly felt he had to move around. He stretched and looked around but there was still no sign of anyone else. He took a few deep breaths and wandered down to the ocean’s edge, staring at the foamy water that played around his painted toenails. He knew there was nothing in there to harm him, at least close to shore, so Dennis waded into the water and began walking out. The sandy bottom was clearly visible beneath the crystal clear water, so he continued out until he was thigh deep. He dipped his hands into the water and drew one out and tasted the drops from one finger. It tasted exactly like ocean water back on earth, and Dennis was convinced there was no difference, no undue danger, and that the warning to stay out was paranoia brought on by the program failure. Somebody had decided that anything that could go wrong would go wrong, so they had posted the order as a precaution. That was all there was to it.

But now he knew better. Dennis dipped his hands into the water again, cupped them, and started giving himself a saltwater bath. It felt wonderful and he was past the point of caring whether his bra and panties got wet. If nothing else he could take them off and wring them out and wear just his jumpsuit until he got to a sanitary facility.

The waves were picking up just a bit, but they weren’t anywhere near the size of others he had handled in the past so Dennis decided to swim out a short distance. He dove into the base of a wave and felt it wash completely over him until he emerged on the back side. His long hair was wet and very heavy -- that was a new sensation -- and his pale blue bra turned virtually transparent, but he tried not to pay attention to those details. He just wanted to enjoy the simple pleasure of a dip in the ocean, and he crouched a little as the next wave approached. Once again he dove into the wave and emerged on the other side feeling great. Over and over he attacked the waves until he had moved farther offshore and had to stand on his toes to keep his head above water. Finally even that wasn’t enough and he simply let himself float over the waves as they came in rapid succession.

Dennis grinned as he felt himself rising and falling from the crests to the troughs and back again. This was his idea of fun and he wanted to stay out as long as possible. He noticed that his new body seemed more buoyant, and he reflected that there might actually be one or two small advantages to being a girl after all, not that they made up for all the disadvantages but something was better than nothing. He was staring into the face of a particularly large wave and thrilled at the sensation of being lifted and carried along, until he realized he was out quite far. His toes didn’t touch the bottom anymore, even in the troughs, and when he turned to look at the shore he was startled to see that the tide had carried him well past the point and he was drifting out to sea at an alarming rate.

Dennis took a deep breath and began swimming back towards shore, but after a minute it was apparent that he was making no progress at all. If anything he seemed to be drifting further out, and he became very concerned. He redoubled his efforts and put all he had into his stroke, but it did no good. He was moving out into the unknown deep and the beach was becoming harder to see. Worse, he discovered his new body had almost no stamina, and he was already very tired. At the rate he was going he would be exhausted in a few minutes. In desperation Dennis began yelling for help, but he could barely see the beach and hadn’t seen a soul since coming to the point and he had little hope that anyone would hear him.

The minutes seemed to melt away, and Dennis soon reached the point where he could barely tread water. His arms felt too heavy to hold at his sides and they burned from the effort. Finally he was struck by a rogue wave and dragged under. The last thing he thought about as he went down was his family, wishing they could at least know how he had died.

____________________

A strong hand gripped the lifeless arm and pulled it towards the surface. The swimmer kicked his powerful legs and pulled with all his might with his free arm as he struggled to overcome the weight of his burden and his own inertia, but he gradually fought his way back to the surface. The girl appeared lifeless but the young man fervently hoped she wasn’t gone yet. He gasped for breath as he held her head above the water until he had enough breath to spare, then he began to breathe into her, hoping he could perform artificial respiration while treading water.

It was damned difficult, but fortunately she was as light as a feather in the salt water and he was able to grip her waist with one hand and use his other arm to keep them afloat. In the meantime he breathed into her mouth between the waves, until she coughed several times and relinquished a considerable amount of seawater.

She struggled as she gasped for air and he had to restrain her to keep her from sliding under again. He spoke to her in soothing, reassuring tones, telling her to remain still and that everything would be okay. After a time she seemed to understand and stopped struggling and focused her eyes on him.

"Just relax and breathe easy. I’ll try to get us in to shore," he told her, and she simply nodded.

He held her with one arm and began a powerful sidestroke towards the shore, moving on a diagonal rather than trying to fight the strong current. He had to stop after five minutes to catch his breath and switch arms, but he could see he was making some progress and he figured he’d be close enough to touch bottom in another five minutes. His new body was incredibly powerful, but he had cut this pretty close, he realized, and he knew he’d been very lucky to pull it off. Meanwhile, the girl in his arm was trying to paddle a little and he encouraged her as he bore the brunt of the effort

The next time he stopped to rest he was relieved to feel the soft sand beneath his feet, and he began walking slowly towards shore. Since it was still too deep for the girl he carried her in his arms, but that made for slow progress.

"Thank you for saving my life," she said, seemingly still exhausted from her ordeal.

"My pleasure," he replied, smiling down at her for a moment. "I’m just glad I was around. There was nobody else on the beach, and you were so far out I barely heard you."

"I know. It was really dumb of me to go out that far, but I didn’t realize the current was so strong, or that I was so weak," she explained.

"Were you a guy, before we came here?" He asked, and she nodded and looked away, her face becoming quite flushed.

"Well, don’t feel so bad. I was a girl," he revealed, and smiled when he saw her eyes go wide.

What’s your name?" She asked, looking up at him with her arms around his neck.

"Kerina Mills," he answered. "At least that what it was. Doesn’t seem to fit now, but I haven’t decided on a new one yet."

"I’m Dennis McNeil," the girl replied. "Or at least I was . . ."

"Don’t be embarrassed," Kerina told her. "Two-thirds of the entire colony wound up like us. None of us asked for this, either. All we can do is make the best of it, I guess."

"Yeah, but it’s still embarrassing," Dennis told his rescuer. "It’s also busted up my family. What about yours?"

"I came by myself," Kerina told him. "I was one of the single women picked to ‘round out’ the colony. There were a bunch of us and a group of single men. I think the general idea was for us to pair up, get married, and add to the population." Kerina laughed when she thought about it. "I guess that’s still the general plan, except the roles are a little different now."

"Yeah." Dennis agreed. "I was thinking about that just before I went into the water."

"You weren’t trying to . . ."

Dennis’ face took on a shocked expression. "No, it was nothing like that!" He protested. "Really, I just decided to go swimming and the current took me with it."

Kerina was carrying Dennis, though the water was down to her waist and he could have easily walked on his own. Dennis didn’t seem to notice, however, and Kerina found she enjoyed carrying the former man. He really was light in her strong arms, and holding a girl like that was a new, and not unpleasant sensation.

"That’s good. I -- OW!" Kerina yelled out in pain.

"What’s the matter -- What’s wrong?" Dennis asked anxiously.

"I don’t know. It feels like something just bit my leg!" She replied.

"Put me down. I can walk from here," Dennis told her, but Kerina shook her head.

"Whatever bit me might still be around. It’s only a few more yards to the shore and there’s no sense both of us getting bit," she remarked.

Dennis felt like he was being treated like a child, but on the other hand he didn’t want to get bitten either, so he kept his mouth shut and hung on as Kerina carried him the last few feet. As he clung to her he was suddenly very aware of her hard muscular chest and the light matting of chest hair that sprouted from it. Her upper body seemed quite well-developed, with broad shoulders, fairly large pecs, and arms that were easily three times the diameter of his own. He had to admit that Kerina’s body was even more developed than his old male husk, and she seemed taller too, though that was hard for him to judge while he was being carried.

They reached shore nearly a full kilometer from where Dennis had entered the water. Kerina set Dennis down and examined her left leg, quickly locating a small circular wound. It wasn’t bleeding, but it looked red and swollen, and Dennis could see what appeared to be a series of puncture marks set in a neat circle.

"Something definitely bit you," he observed unnecessarily.

"Sure did," Kerina agreed, touching the wounded area gingerly.

"Does it hurt?" Dennis asked.

"A little," she admitted, "but it doesn’t look too bad."

"Just the same, I think you had better have a doctor look at that," Dennis advised.

"I think you’re right," his rescuer agreed.

They set off down the beach to retrieve their clothes, and Dennis noticed that Kerina was, indeed, quite tall. He guessed he was about 5’6" and she was at least eight inches taller. She was also extremely fit, Dennis noted, trying not to stare too much. She was wearing nothing but a pair of men’s briefs and there was not an ounce of fat on her.

For her part, Kerina was acutely aware of the cute girl walking next to her. Dennis wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous, or beauty queen material, but the body he wore was definitely attractive -- slim but shapely, with average-sized, but well-formed breasts -- and he had a pretty, girl-next-door face that men seemed drawn to. Kerina had been prettier, with a better figure, but she discovered she was intrigued by her companion’s fresh beauty.

They reached Kerina’s clothes first, and when she bent her left leg to slide it into her jumpsuit she winced in pain.

"Is your leg starting to hurt?" Dennis asked, his face mirroring his concern.

"A little bit," Kerina admitted. She didn’t mention that her leg suddenly seemed to be on fire.

"Well, let’s go right to the medical section when we get back," Dennis suggested.

"Good idea," she agreed.

Dennis hurried to pull his jumpsuit on, not bothering to remove his bra or panties now that he had company. They were mostly dry anyway, and he left the zipper down a little to help the drying process. After he picked up his cross trainers they headed back to the colony. But Kerina’s leg was deteriorating quickly. The burning sensation was moving up her leg and it now hurt to walk. She was limping badly as they got to the river and turned inland. By the time they reached the outer ring of temporary shelters her breathing was labored and she was barely able to walk. Dennis tried to help her by offering her a shoulder to lean on, but he was both too short and too weak to support her weight, and they barely made it into the med section. The first person they ran into was Karen Ellis.

. As they came around the corner of the temporary shelter and he saw Karen Ellis Dennis called out to her. "Mrs. Ellis! Please help us," he said loudly.

Karen was just finishing up with one of the numerous cuts she had been called on to treat, and she turned when she heard her name. She saw a tall, good looking young man who she guessed to be about 20 limping badly. His face was contorted in pain and appeared extremely flushed. Then she noticed Dennis’ new form trying to help the man, and she moved over to support his other shoulder. "What happened?" She asked.

"Something bit me in the water, and now my leg feels like it’s on fire," the young man replied between heavy breaths. He was obviously in a lot of pain and he looked like he was running a high fever or going into shock, so Karen got him seated and ran to get Sharon Willis, the duty doctor at the moment.

Sharon took one look at Kerina and told Karen and Dennis to get her inside. There, she got him on to a bed and left the room while Karen got the former girl out of her jumpsuit. Dennis helped Karen and refused to leave when Karen told him he could go and check back in a while. He watched as Karen took his pulse and blood pressure and checked her heart rate. He was alarmed at the way Kerina seemed to be growing worse by the moment.

"How did this happen?" Karen turned and looked at Dennis.

"Well, like he, like she said, she got bit by something in the water -- on the lower left leg."

"What were you two doing in the ocean? You know we haven’t had a chance to run any tests out there."

Dennis looked at his feet, which were still bare. "It wasn’t Kerina’s fault," he replied. "She, she only went in the water to save me from drowning."

"Drowning?"

"Yeah. I got caught in a rip tide or something and it was carrying me out to sea. I wasn’t strong enough to fight it, and I was actually going under when she pulled me out and got me back to shore. She was carrying me in when something bit her on the leg," he confessed.

"Did you get a look at what bit her?"

Dennis shook his head. "Neither of us saw what it was," he admitted.

Sharon Willis returned with a hypo-gun and an alcohol swab. "What’re the vitals?" She asked.

Karen read off the figures and Sharon shook her head. "Get some ice, if there is any, and administer a half grain of morphine for the pain. I’m going to give him some anti-biotics. I just hope they work on whatever he’s got in his system."

"She," Dennis corrected.

"Whatever," Sharon replied, adding: "Oh, and Karen, get a dose of that anti-venom we packed along. I have no idea whether it will do any good, but the sooner we get it in him -- her -- the better."

 

CHAPTER EIGHT

Patty McNeil grunted as she strained to turn the wrench another half turn. She wanted to be sure the large bolts holding the structural components were securely connected. No house that she built was going to fall over! She wondered about the genius that had named these things "temporary structures." The modular structures were built to last a minimum of five years, and Patty believed they were good for twenty. They were rectangular, 10 by 15 meters, and could be configured in many ways, depending on how the interior partitions were installed. The first 40 had been set up as dormitories for the colonists, but then she had helped put together the med - section’s two structures, one for the administration building -- the "White House," and now she was working on a vehicle maintenance building. Other crews had put up a field kitchen, several storage buildings, a machine shop, and the electrical generating station.

Patty, who now referred to herself as "Pat," had been surprised at how quickly she became accustomed to her newfound strength. It felt great to have such power, power unlike anything she had ever known, and sometimes she felt almost super-human. After the first day and a half in her new body Pat noticed that she was actually stronger than most of the guys in her crew, even the "natural" men, and she began to get a real thrill out of competing with them to see who could get the most done. It was a friendly, informal competition with a serious basis. The colony needed shelter quickly and most of the guys who were supposed to be constructing the units were . . . indisposed. Most were women now, and a few were kids.

Yesterday Pat had been summoned to the "White House" by Larry, and she was actually rather upset at losing the time from her work. The crew she worked with had set the pace for all the others, and she was beginning to take a lot of pride in their efficiency. When she arrived at the administration building the first person she saw was Dan, who was busily typing away at a computer terminal. Pat stood in the open doorway for a moment, examining her feminine "husband" with interest, once again astounded by his new appearance

Dan was so young, and so beautiful! The guys Pat worked with referred to girls who looked like Dan as "babes," and she had no doubt the term applied to him. His long blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail and his oval face had a classic beauty that was timeless. He had large, almond eyes with an open, almost childlike look, a cute upturned nose, high cheekbones, and full, kissable lips with a perfect cupid’s bow. Even without makeup he was gorgeous! His jumpsuit wasn’t exactly made to show off his figure, but his new body would have looked good in a canvas bag. His tiny waist and voluptuous breasts were evident even in that outfit, and Pat imagined Dan would look fantastic in a tight dress or a skirt with a clingy, knit top.

But it wasn’t Dan’s appearance so much as his new occupation that shocked Pat. Her "husband" was sitting at a secretary’s desk, wearing a phone headset while he was busily typing written notes into the computer. As Pat watched he spoke into the tiny microphone connected to his headset, then reached for a switch and announced the call to Larry, barely missing a beat with his typing. After six years of engineering and nearly twenty years of experience, Dan was nothing more than Larry’s secretary.

Pat made a noise to get Dan’s attention, and when he turned and saw her she gave him a small smile and said, "Larry sent word he wanted to see me."

Dan looked at her and forced a smile of his own, but his eyes revealed conflicting emotions. "Hi. Go right in, he’s expecting you."

A perfect response for a secretary, Pat thought as she nodded and crossed the room to Larry’s door.

Five minutes later Pat emerged from Larry’s office and walked over to her "husband." She felt positively fantastic following her short meeting and couldn’t wait to tell Dan that Larry had appointed her the Crew Leader for her team. Her self-confidence had just been lifted to a new high, and Pat was proud that her promotion was based entirely on her own accomplishments. She was doing a real man’s work, and doing it better than most of the "real" men.

Dan looked up from the desk as Pat came over. He was going over the agenda for the next council meeting that Larry had asked him to type up and distribute. When he saw Pat approach he gave her another half-smile and set the papers aside.

"What’s up?" He asked.

Pat smiled and perched herself on the edge of the desk. "Larry just made me the crew leader of my groups," she said with a wide grin. "He wants me to start on the residential units as soon as we finish with the maintenance buildings."

Dan’s face registered the surprise he felt, and his eyebrows rose considerably. He forced another smile while he tried to come up with an appropriate response.

"That’s . . . that’s great, Patty. I guess you’re pleased," he replied.

"Well, sure I’m pleased," Pat responded. She was disappointed by Dan’s response to the news of her promotion, then she remembered that she was doing the job that Dan was supposed to have done. Sort of, anyway. Dan was to have been in charge of all the teams, but Patty belatedly realized that her spouse might feel like she was trying to take his place, perhaps even show him up, with her success in his field. She was doing quite well without the benefit of his engineering degree, and it could be that Dan’s male ego just couldn’t handle her success -- She couldn’t tell -- but that was his problem, not hers. She had other things on her mind.

"Dan, with things the way they are I’m going to be working ten or twelve hour days for a long time, and I’m worried about Danny and Vickie. I don’t like the idea of leaving them in the day-care area, especially for such a long time every day, and I was wondering if you might watch them," Pat suggested.

Dan looked up at her with a surprised look on his face. "I -- My job . . . Larry needs me to --"

"I know," Pat agreed, "but I thought maybe he could get someone else for part of the day. That way he could use your expertise -- get your input every day -- and maybe have someone else do the, ah . . . clerical stuff," Pat said diplomatically. In truth she didn’t think Larry was keeping Dan around for his engineering experience, at least it didn’t look like it. She guessed that any competent secretary could do anything Dan was doing, and she felt that one reason Larry was keeping Dan around was to help him work through his problems adjusting to the new reality. She didn’t have a problem with that, but they now had two little kids to think about, not to mention Linda and Dennis, and Pat thought they should come first.

The truth of the matter was, despite her transformation Pat still held to her old-fashioned ideas. Her parents, especially her mother, had raised her to believe that a woman’s first duty was to her husband and children, and she had adhered to those beliefs all through her married life. But she wasn’t the woman anymore, Dan was. She was a man, doing a man’s job, and as far as Pat was concerned her views on the roles of men and women were still valid. He should stay home and take care of the children. Of course she knew that he would need time to get used to his new role and that was why she suggested he work part-time. She believed that, in time, Dan would come to see that he was more useful watching the kids than typing and filing. As a married couple only one of them was obligated to work outside the home -- Patty had checked on that before they left earth -- and she was doing more than her share with the construction crew. There was nothing forcing Dan to work, and now that they would be starting on the residential units Pat was anxious to gather her family under a roof of their own and resume some semblance of a "normal" home life.

"But, what if an emergency comes up?" Dan protested, desperately trying to avoid his wife’s suggestion. He really didn’t want to work part-time or watch the kids.

Pat nodded. "It’s possible, I suppose, but you could always take a communicator with you to stay in touch, and a laptop to work on. You’re not really doing field work so Larry could get your advice over the phone."

"I think that would work," Larry said from his doorway. "We could try it for a few days and see how it goes."

Pat and Dan turned to see Larry leaning against the door frame with his arm crossed. Neither of them had noticed the President listening in on their conversation.

"Do you really think so?" Dan asked, his eyes conveying a message he could not voice.

"Yeah, I do." Larry replied, seemingly oblivious to the way Dan’s shoulders sagged when he agreed to the arrangement. "Your family has been hit hard by all of this and you need to see to your kids. You and Pat have both worked very hard to get us through these first few days, but there are quite a few who haven’t done a thing. Well, they’ve had some time to get used to the situation and it’s time they pulled their own weight. In fact we have several people with office experience that seem to be getting their feet back down on the ground. I’m sure I can find one of them to be your . . . assistant."

Pat glanced at Larry and noticed the look in his eyes. She gave a barely perceptible nod of appreciation for his support. She also liked the way he refereed to the newcomer as Dan’s assistant. That should help soften the blow.

It did. Having an assistant wouldn’t be too bad, Dan thought. It was certainly better than being replaced.

____________________

Dennis glanced at the screen that displayed Kerina’s vital signs then leaned forward and felt the damp cloth he had applied to her forehead. It had been less than five minutes yet the cloth felt hot, not warm but hot, to his touch. He lifted it off her forehead and got up to change it. He stretched then walked over to a small refrigerator and retrieved a fresh compress and discarded the used one in the soiled linen bag.

Kerina had been unconscious for several hours now and her fever had gotten worse. The anti-toxins had not worked against the exotic poison in her system, and though her blood tests had shown several anomalies there was nothing specific the doctors could point to as being the cause of her symptoms. Karen and the rest of the medical staff were doing the best they could, but they simply had no experience with this type of animal bite. They had taken pictures of the wound, probed it for residue, and performed every test known to man -- but this was a new planet, and the creature that bit Kerina was completely unknown to them. Karen had told Dennis that the poison seemed to act like a venom, but none of the medications had any effect on it.

Karen had tried to get Dennis to go back to his area but he refused to leave Kerina and after a few hours she had given him a surgical gown, cap and mask, and shown him how to change the compresses and check the vital signs on the monitor. She had too many patients to care for to keep vigil on one, even one in critical condition, so she didn’t object when Dennis offered to stay with Kerina. She came by every now and then to check on her patient and update her chart, and each time she stopped by she showed Dennis something new or watched as he ministered to his private patient.

Dennis was checking the IV solutions when Karen made her rounds again. Kerina was getting a combination of anti-toxin, morphine, glucose, and a powerful anti-biotic, and he was about to get Karen to have her change the glucose when she showed up.

"Any change, Hon?" The nurse asked her new assistant.

"No. No change," Dennis replied softly. "She’s still burning up, and she tosses and turns a lot. She was groaning a few minutes ago and I changed her compress, but it doesn’t do any good."

"Let’s give her an alcohol bath and try ice packs," Karen suggested, and went to the cabinet and returned with a couple of clothes and a large bottle of rubbing alcohol. "This will cool her down a little, and the ice should help bring her temperature down even more," she noted.

Dennis nodded and watched as Karen showed him how to give Kerina an alcohol rubdown. When she finished she had Dennis go outside to the freezer unit and get several bags of crushed ice. Then she showed Dennis how to place them beneath Kerina’s arms, alongside her head, and between her legs. Dennis blushed with embarrassment as Karen uncovered Kerina and removed his soaking hospital gown, completely exposing her masculine body. It was a perfect specimen of a young man -- muscular and handsome -- but Dennis told himself he was embarrassed for Kerina, that she had to suffer the indignity of being exposed for all to see, not because of any reaction he had to seeing her masculine body. He had seen masculine bodies all of his life, especially his own, he reminded himself. There was no reason for him to be flustered about it, except for the fact that the procedure stripped Kerina of her dignity.

The former male felt bad enough already without seeing Kerina exposed to this added indignity. He felt guilty that he had been the cause of all of this. If he hadn’t ignored the warnings and stayed out of the water he would have never gotten in trouble in the first place, and Kerina wouldn’t have had to rescue him. Then, even after she saved his life he was too weak to walk through the surf under his own power and she been bitten carrying his useless carcass. The longer this went on the worse he felt, and Dennis was forced to wipe tears from his face that just seemed to appear out of nowhere. He hated being female, with his emotions always so near the surface. He hadn’t cried since he was seven years old, until today. But now he used his frustration to strengthen his resolve. He was bound and determined to see Kerina through this no matter what.

Thirty minutes later Dennis noticed that Kerina’s temperature wasn’t rising as fast as it had been. It was now 104.7, still dangerously high, but it had only risen one-tenth of a degree since he had applied the ice bags. He bent over Kerina and mopped her sweaty face then checked the ice. It was slush, mostly water, so he went to the freezer and got more. It took three trips to carry five, five-pound bags, and Dennis cursed his weakness, still thinking that if he hadn’t been transformed into a helpless girl none of this would have ever happened.

He changed the ice bags and carried the old ones outside to the sanitation unit and emptied them down the toilet. When he returned for the last bag Kerina was moaning and tossing about. Dennis glanced at the monitor then quickly went to find Karen or a doctor. He found Karen hunched over a cup of coffee, looking completely exhausted, and he hated to tell her there was something wrong with Kerina but he didn’t know what to do and Karen was the only one around.

Karen followed him back to Kerina and listened as Dennis related everything that had occurred since her last round. She nodded in agreement as he explained what he had done for his "patient," and she put her hand on his shoulder and told him he was doing good.

"The problem is we don’t know what we’re dealing with, and the only thing we can do is treat the symptoms until we learn more," she told her young assistant. "We’ve got the antidote for every toxin known on Earth, but this isn’t Earth, and we’re flying blind," she explained. "All we can do is try to keep his, er -- her, temperature down and hope for the best."

"It’s all my fault," Dennis practically sobbed. "If I hadn’t disobeyed the regulations she would have never had to go out there and drag me back to shore."

Karen put her arms around the smaller female and for some reason Dennis felt comforted by her touch. "That’s all in the past," she said soothingly. "This was just a fluke accident, nothing more. Now, come with me. You look like you could use a cup of coffee too."

She led Dennis outside and back to the table where he had found her, poured another cup of coffee and sat it in front of him.

"I have to tell you something," Karen said as she poured herself another cup and sat down across from Dennis. "You have a talent for nursing. You picked up on everything I showed you, and you seem to have a good feel for what needs to be done. Have you ever considered going into the medical field?"

Dennis was surprised by Karen’s compliment. "No, I always thought I’d like to go into engineering, like dad and Danny," he replied.

"Well, I’d like you to consider nursing," Karen replied seriously. "We’re down to three doctors, one of whom is a psychiatrist, and two nurses, me and Joyce Fellows, and we need all the medical personnel we can get. There are over two thousand colonists here and we have to do it all, from bandages to major surgery, lab work to research, and we need help. From what I’ve seen you would make an excellent nurse, and if you’re willing we can start an on-the-job training program to go along with the usual studies. What do you think?"

Dennis took a sip of his coffee and leaned back. This was completely unexpected. Until that moment he had never questioned his career goals, but in the back of his mind he knew he had to make some decisions soon, and with his new anatomy he hadn’t wanted to think about the future too much. But he was flattered by Karen’s compliments, and they did need help in the medical section . . .

"I don’t know," he answered truthfully. "For now, I just want to help Kerina get better. Afterwards, I’ll give it some serious thought."

Karen smiled. "Fair enough," she replied. "We’re both pretty exhausted anyway. Why don’t you go home for the night and get some sleep."

Dennis shook his head. "Uh,uh. I’m staying here until Kerina comes around. I’ll sleep here," he said with a determined look.

Karen looked at him strangely. "Okay Dennis. We’ll find you a cot and you can set it up by your ‘patient.’" She replied.

____________________

Linda McNeil walked towards the area set aside for the clothing exchange and saw several other colonists headed in the same direction. She was glad her dad had staggered the exchange schedule to prevent a mob scene, but she was still apprehensive about meeting the girl who used to occupy the body she was wearing. She also didn’t like the idea of having to go through the process twice -- once to get her new clothes and once to give her old ones away -- but she saw no other way to handle the swap. The important thing was that the entire colony would complete the process in one day, and they would finally have the items they needed.

Each of the cargo landers had an area roped off near their respective hatches, with a table set up near an opening in the rope barricade. Linda could see two distinct groups of people near each shuttle, and when she checked in at shuttle number three she learned that one group were the donors and the other the donees. She was given a number and told that she would be called when her counterpart arrived. Since she was a few minutes early Linda wandered into the "donee" area and wandered around a bit. She noticed that most of the people were fairly calm, though many were obviously nervous, and others still appeared to be in shock. Those last were clearly in the minority, though.

After a few minutes Linda heard her number called, and she made her way over to the table. She found a Tall, thin teenage boy standing near the woman at the table, and when the boy saw her he stared at her unabashedly. Linda assumed the boy was her counterpart, and she wondered what he thought about seeing his own body coming towards him. She also wondered if he noticed any differences in the way his old body walked and moved, now that she was inside. Did he resent losing his body to her, or did he enjoy being a boy? He was certainly much taller now, she noted, and he had the gangly look of a teenage male undergoing a puberty-driven growth spurt. He was all arms and legs and knees and elbows, yet he was undeniably cute, and he seemed to have an intelligent spark in his eyes.

"Hi. Wow, this is really weird!" The boy remarked when Linda halted a few feet from him. "It’s just SO unreal, seeing myself -- I mean you -- in my body."

Linda nodded and read the name on his pink over blue name tag. She had not seen the body "Kelli Rogers" now occupied, either before or after the journey, and she was sure she would have remembered him. He had short, unruly red hair, bright green eyes, and his pale skin was covered with freckles. From his sleeveless tee shirt, cargo pants and sandals it was obvious he had already received his own donor’s clothes.

Hi. I’m Linda, Linda McNeil," she introduced herself.

Kelli laughed. "This is SO cool!" He remarked. "Even your voice is exactly the same!"

"Yeah, well, it IS your body," Linda replied, "or it was anyway. Personally, I think this whole situation has been a tragedy."

Kelli’s face suddenly clouded. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tease you. This body changing has been bad -- My whole family is screwed up -- but seeing myself walking and talking just hit me as totally weird."

"Can we get on with this?" Linda asked impatiently.

"Sure. I have the key right here," he replied, pulling it from his pocket. "It’s bin number 498."

The two of them walked down the rows of bins that had been set out in numerical order, until they found number 498. Kelli opened the lock and Linda saw pretty much what she expected. Kelli had packed a variety of clothes one would expect a twelve year old girl to wear, and there was a good selection to choose from. She couldn’t wait to get back to the dormitory and change into something comfortable. After five days in the jumpsuit she was beginning to hate the damned thing.

"I just wanted to get my photo tapes and a few other things," Kelli told her as he dug into the bin and pulled out a leather binder. "I’ve got taped messages from my cousins and grandparents, and some of my friends. I don’t want to lose those. The only other things are a couple of pieces of jewelry and my diary," he added.

"I’m only interested in the clothes," Linda told him. "I wouldn’t want you to leave anything personal."

She turned to look at Kelli when he didn’t respond immediately, and was surprised to see tears in his eyes. He was looking at a small stuffed bear with a look of anguish on his face. When he noticed her staring at him Kelli turned away and wiped the tears from his face and sniffed.

"Are you okay?" Linda asked softly, concerned at the sudden display of emotion.

"Yeah," Kelli sniffed again and wiped his hand across his face before turning to face her again. "It’s just that this was a present from my dad, and he . . ."

"I understand," she told him gently. "Take it -- and anything else you want."

"We don’t know which one he is," Kelli told her sadly.

Linda didn’t understand what he meant, and she waited for him to continue. Finally, he sat down on the ground and held his head in his hands.

"After we woke up we couldn’t find my dad anywhere, even after they set up the registration tables. Then, we finally figured out that he got inserted into one of the small kids, but there’s about twenty or thirty that are too young to talk, and, well, there’s just no way to know which one is him . . ."

Linda sat down beside him. "What about your mom?"

"Her new body is a little older, but she’s still female, and my older sister Beth is about thirty now. She was 16."

"I know how it is. My oldest brother, Dan, is a little girl now, and his wife is a little boy," Linda told him. "Dan can talk, but his mind is gone. He’s like a little kid, and the rest of us take turns watching him and Vickie -- his wife."

"How old were you, before this mess?" Kelli asked.

"Sixteen," she replied. "This switch hasn’t really hurt me too badly, except I’m not looking forward to going through puberty again."

Kelli gave her a tragic smile. "That’s one thing I won’t miss," he admitted. "I’d had several periods before we got here, and I hated them."

"You get used to ‘em," Linda replied with a shrug.

"What about your parents," Kelli asked.

Linda filled him in on the rest of her family and they compared notes for a few minutes. Kelli offered to carry the footlocker back to Linda’s residence and she accepted gratefully. Kelli stood, offered her his hand and helped her to her feet. He hefted the box on his shoulder and asked Linda to carry his personal items.

"Do you miss being a girl?" Linda asked as they walked towards her compound.

Kelli frowned for a moment, then shrugged. "Sometimes," he admitted, "but bein’ a guy is fun too. I’m a lot taller, of course, and I can do lots of things I couldn’t do before, like taking my shirt off in public. It feels really cool.! You wouldn’t believe how weird it felt the first time I did it. I felt like somebody would have a fit and turn me in for being indecent, but nobody said nothin’! It was, like -- normal! I couldn’t believe it!"

"That would be different," Linda agreed, trying to imagine herself going out topless. It didn’t work -- She couldn’t imagine parading around topless. It was just too absurd.

"I don’t feel so strange doin’ it now, but it's still fun. Guys, I mean the ones who were born guys, don’t know how good they got it," the former female opined. "The extra strength is great, and it’s neat bein’ tall. I’ve been playing basketball with a few other guys every afternoon, and it’s really a blast!"

"Basketball -- Where?"

"Over by shuttle 3," Kelli told her. "One of the guys got a hold of a ball and a hoop, and a couple of others made a backboard and put it on a pole. It’s not much yet, but we’re gonna try and get one of the guys from the road crew to pave us a court."

"I hadn’t heard anything about it," Linda confessed.

"Well, we only got started a couple of days ago. Right now it’s just guys about my age ‘cause the older ones are all workin’ on getting the colony set up and all. Wanna come and watch this afternoon?"

Linda looked at Kelli. The idea of sitting around and watching a bunch of guys play basketball didn’t really appeal to her, but it was a chance to get together with others her own age, and she really did need to get away and do something.

"Sure," she replied.

_____________________

Larry leaned back, balancing his chair on two legs as he massaged his temples. It was working, he knew, but everything was moving too damned slowly! The loss of skilled manpower, not to mention the irreplaceable expertise of the scientists and doctors, was crippling. But they were limping along as fast as they could. The road crews had paved the circular drive that ringed the shuttles, and extended a service road to the electrical generating plant. That alone was a miracle.

Now, the construction crews were starting to erect the first temporary shelters to be used for single family dwellings. At the rate they were going it would be two months before every family had their own home, instead of the two weeks as planned, but that just couldn’t be helped. Other crews were struggling with the water purification plant, the communications center, and the first agricultural station. Literally millions of samples of DNA for livestock and other animals were preserved in storage, but they had lost their chief biologist, and they simply hadn’t had the time to activate the bio-center.

Of greater concern to him now was how many families would remain intact to move into the new homes. The family structure of the colony had been ripped apart, and the social problems were overwhelming. Babies and toddlers, young children, even teenagers -- needed support and love. In too many instances their parents were simply incapable of providing the physical and emotional security they needed, and in some cases the parents were now themselves in need of support. It was imperative that as many married couples as possible remain together, but the adjustments were proving problematical, especially for the reversed couples. He didn’t know how many of the reversed couples would choose to remain together, and they were the key. There were too many couples where both parties were now the same sex, or where their ages now differed wildly. They -- the colony -- really needed the remaining couples, those still their original sex and those whose sexes were reversed, to remain together. The alternative was complete chaos.

It was time to get the Colonial Assembly together, what was left of it anyway, so Larry had called a meeting for two days hence -- Their 7th day on New America. He didn’t know if they could resolve any of the pressing issues they faced, but he was out of ideas, and he was tired of bearing the burden alone.

 

CHAPTER NINE

Dennis inspected the white, plastic badge curiously. It identified him as, "D. McNeil - Nursing Aide," and he had mixed feelings about wearing it. Karen had given it to him along with several nurse’s uniforms that had belonged to Sally Kessler, who was now a three year old girl. Karen had awakened Dennis around 9 o’clock to ask for his help when an entire construction crew had been injured when a partially constructed temporary structure had collapsed on them. Dennis helped bandage their cuts, treat bruises, and had kept the medical team supplied while they worked to treat the dozen victims.

Karen gave him the name tag and the uniforms after the crisis had passed, while he was slumped over a cup of coffee at the table they now referred to as "the employees’ lounge." She thanked him for his help and told him that, as long as he was working with them he might as well look the part.

"Everyone is impressed with your work, and grateful for your help," she told him with a tired smile as she laid the uniforms on the table. "Now that you’ve seen how short-handed we are, we all hope you’ll agree to become a part of the staff, even if it’s only temporary."

Dennis looked at Karen and saw dark rings of fatigue around her normally pretty eyes. Her stamina was amazing -- she seemed to be everywhere she was needed, whenever she was needed, but even Karen had her limits. Her whole body was sagging with exhaustion and her speech was slow and deliberate. In the end he didn’t have the heart to turn her down.

He pinned the ID badge to the smock of his uniform, then glanced at himself in the mirror. Sally’s uniform actually fit quite well, right down to the white shoes with their crepe soles. The white slacks were a little loose in the waist, but the belt took care of that, and the loose white smock was far more comfortable than his tight jumpsuit. About the only thing he didn’t care for was the white pantyhose. They felt so odd, clinging to his legs like paint, yet yielding to his every move. The silky sensation was very distracting, but Dennis decided he could live with it, especially since he was wearing slacks. Several of the uniforms were dresses, but he had no intention of wearing those.

Acting on Karen’s advice, he pulled his long hair back into a ponytail, brushed it a bit, then tied it back using a red elastic band Karen called a "scrunchie." After slipping the special watch/medical monitor on his wrist he went to check on Kerina.

His new friend was bathed in sweat and still unconscious, but her breathing seemed less labored, and when Dennis glanced at the monitor he saw that her temperature had actually dropped a degree. He ran to get Karen, and when she confirmed Dennis’ findings she called Dr. Van Werkom.

"Well, it’s definitely a good sign, but sometimes toxin-induced fevers have a ladder effect. They can level off, and even abate somewhat before increasing rapidly," he told them. "Still, we haven’t observed any step effects with this patient before, so it’s possible he has passed the crisis point. He could relapse, and there is always the possibility of neuro-muscular impairment, so we’re not out of the woods yet. Monitor him closely and continue the medication, and call me immediately if there is any change in his condition."

"Her," Dennis corrected.

"Oh, of course. Good work girls," the doctor said, patting Dennis on the shoulder as he left.

"Do you think you can give her a sponge bath by yourself, or would you like me to help you?" Karen asked, turning to Dennis.

"Huh?" Dennis asked. He’d been taken aback by Dr. Van Werkom’s use of the word "girls" when he congratulated them on Kerina’s progress, and he hadn’t really been listening to Karen. It had been a simple, straightforward compliment, and Dr. Van Werkom hadn’t said it in a condescending or sexist manner; just a perfectly normal comment, and that’s what had bothered Dennis.

Karen saw her own fatigue reflected in the eyes of her new colleague, and she took his arm. "C’mon," she ordered, guiding him through the door. The patient could wait for few minutes.

"I don’t think I could stand another cup of coffee," Dennis told Karen, holding his hand palms out as she set a steaming mug in front of him.

"It’s not coffee, it’s chicken broth," she replied with a smile. "Take some. It will give you a little nourishment and it won’t upset your stomach."

Dennis tested the steaming broth and smiled. "That tastes wonderful." He exclaimed as he rolled his shoulders to get the kinks out.

"It’s a trick I use to keep going when I’m swamped," Karen revealed. "Coffee is okay, but after awhile it makes you jittery and fills your tummy with acid. The broth will keep you alert and give you a little protein."

Dennis reached under the table and untied his shoe laces and pushed the white leather shoes off his feet. The shoes were surprisingly light, but they were leather and quite hot. He massaged his stockinged feet and again felt the strange, silky feeling of the pantyhose he was wearing. Karen noticed the brief expression of distaste that crossed his face.

"Okay, what’s wrong?" She asked.

"Oh, nothing --"

"Something’s bothering you," She interrupted.

Dennis sighed and looked up at the taller woman. "It’s this whole body-switching mess," he admitted. "It’s got me really depressed, and confused. I try not to think about it too much, but every time I turn around something reminds me that I’m not the same person I was."

"Not many of us are," Karen reminded him. "There’s only a handful of us that wound up in their own bodies."

"Yeah, but you’re still the same sex," Dennis pointed out. "Try going from being a tall guy to a short girl. It’s a real change."

Karen sighed. "I know it’s rough. It’s rough on all of you, and that’s nearly two-thirds of the entire colony, but there’s nothing the med staff can do."

"I know," Dennis replied. "The funny thing is, I’ve never been hung up about sex. I dated on and off -- nothing serious, but I liked girls. I liked dancing with them, and I never turned down a kiss either. Now . . . I just don’t know. Being a girl, wearing girls’ clothes -- it all feels so weird. But it’s more than just the physical aspect. It’s basic. It goes to the core of who I am, how people look at me, what they see, and how they talk to me.

"Some of it is really obvious, like the guy that kept staring at me while I was bandaging his arm, but some of it is subtle, like when Dr. Van Werkom referred to us as ‘girls.’" I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it. He was just trying to be nice, but it was the casual way he said it that really got to me. He knows who I am, but in his mind I’m no different then any other "girl."

"He’s tired -- We’re all tired -- and he probably didn’t think before he spoke," Karen responded. "Let’s face it, you ARE female now, and you can’t expect people to ignore a lifetime of conditioning. They use terms to define people in their own minds, to put us into convenient groups for future reference. We all do it -- You do it too. Did you know that the guy you bandaged up was once a woman?"

Dennis was surprised, and stared at Karen until the ironic look on her face made him burst out laughing. "You’re joking!" He giggled.

Karen grinned at him. "Yeah, but you didn’t know, did you?" She taunted. "You did the same thing. You put that -- person -- in a category based on his appearance, just like the rest of us."

"I guess I did," Dennis admitted, "but I still feel so confused about all this. I think I’m the same person I was, but with the way I look and with everyone treating me like a girl, I’m not really sure. My emotions seem to be all mixed up, and I get the strangest feelings sometimes . . ."

"You’re the same person inside," Karen assured him, "but the context has changed. Your mind is yours -- nothing can take away your knowledge or your memories -- but the brain is part of the body, and yours is female brain swimming in a sea of estrogen. That will affect your feelings, your preferences, maybe even how you see yourself, and that is probably why you feel confused right now. If it’s any comfort you’re certainly not alone. Just about everyone is having problems adjusting to this situation, the new men too."

"Where did you hear that?" Dennis asked.

"I didn’t hear it, I can see it," Karen told him. "Almost two-thirds of the patients we’ve seen since we set up shop are former women. They seem to be getting injured at a far greater rate than any other group."

"Why?"

"Dr. Van Werkom suspects it’s a combination of factors," Karen replied. "Many, if not most of the F/Ms weren’t trained for the type of physical labor they’ve been called upon to do, and they’re not accustomed to their new bodies yet. That makes for accidents, and they’ve really had their share."

"I hope my mom is careful," Dennis thought aloud. "She never did anything like the construction work she’s doing now."

"Well, warn her about this when you see her," Karen advised. "We’re working on getting a bulletin out."

____________________

"Hey Beth, watch that beam!" Patty bellowed at her burly worker.

The former woman grunted as she put her muscular shoulder against the wall she was trying to secure and waved a brief acknowledgment to her supervisor before putting her weight against the leaning structure. She used her powerful leg muscles to push the wall upright, then inserted a heavy steel bolt into the prefabricated slot. The beam above her groaned slightly as it moved a few inches, but it stayed put and Beth breathed heavily as she wiped the sweat from her brow. After a moment she removed her work gloves and worked a large, heavy nut on the bolt and gave it a few turns.

Patty glanced down to the other end of the wall and noted that the guys were already using the heavy power wrench to secure the other side. This was the last side of the structure and the roof trusses were already in position, ready to be lifted and secured into place. The crane would do the lifting, but her crew would be straddling the trusses to pin them in place. It was hard work, but this was their third house of the day, and with luck they would assemble four before they knocked off.

It was a good crew, and they took their work seriously. There were a dozen, including Patty, and eight of them were former women. Two of the "native males" had construction experience and the other two had worked in the skilled trades, so they provided the expertise, while the former females provided most of the "muscle." The former women had absolutely no experience in construction, but they worked hard and were quick learners. Patty thought it was funny that the two strongest members of her crew were former women, but that fact had gone a long way towards insuring the "natives" treated the former women as equals. There was absolutely no morale problems as the men accepted the former women as their equals, and that was quite surprising considering that two of her workers had once been married to each other.

Beth Masters, the one who had muscled the wall into place, had once been married to Carl, Patty’s crane operator. Now they were both guys in their early twenties, but Beth was 6 inches taller, forty pounds heavier, and twice as strong as her former husband. Fortunately they had no children. Their relationship had been that of a typical husband and wife, with Carl the dominant partner, until they arrived on New America. The first couple of days after their landing Beth and Carl had both acted strangely, and it was interesting to see their relationship evolve from confusion to acceptance. Now they were acting more like buddies than former lovers.

Patty glanced at her watch when she saw Beth and Hank finish securing the last bolt. "Okay guys, let’s take a break," she called.

One by one her crew dropped their tools and ambled over to the multi-purpose truck assigned for their use and plopped down in the shade. There were only eight of them there at present; Patty had sent the other four off to prepare the slab foundation for their final project of the day, and they were about a half kilometer away, further up the hill. The site the other group was working on was the one Patty hoped to get in the Homesite Bid.

Beth collapsed on the ground near Carl and Sue Pritchart, and removed her hard hat and stuffed her work gloves in it. She was soaked with sweat and filthy, covered with the incredibly dark, rich soil of New America. Her sweat cut rivulets through the grime and she accepted a cup of ice tea from her former husband with a smile.

"Thanks," she mumbled, then drank the entire half liter glass without a pause.

Patty wandered over to the group and sat with her back against the truck. "We’re doin’ good, people," she told them. "I want to finish one more, and maybe get the material for the fifth house delivered on-site, then we can knock off for today."

"Damn, Pat -- What are you trying to prove?" Sue demanded. "We’ve outdone the other crews by three houses in four days. Isn’t that enough?"

Patty looked at the exhausted male slumped against the jeep-like vehicle she used to visit sites and pick up parts. Sue’s close-cropped, dirty blond hair was matted against her head and she had a bandage on her arm that stemmed from a disagreement with a door jamb. "I’m not trying to prove anything, Sue," she lied. "The colony needs these houses up and ready as soon as possible. The rainy season is due to start in a month or six weeks, and if it’s early we’ll be in big trouble. Do you want to live in a damned dormitory for three months?"

"I know, I know," Sue waved off Patty’s argument, "but there’s only so much we can do."

"There should still be enough time to build them all," Beth spoke up. "Figure 45 days until the rainy season and four crews, each putting up four houses a day. That’s -- about 720 houses. I thought we only needed about 650."

Patty nodded. "That’s right, but do you want to work 45 days straight? I don’t, and I don’t think we’ll be in very good shape if we try it."

"You’ve got to figure on the weather, too," Carl noted. "Even before the rainy season comes we’ll probably have some days we can’t work."

Beth squirmed and made a very un-ladylike adjustment in her new masculine equipment. "Damn. I’ll never get used to havin’ this thing," she groused.

Carl laughed mirthlessly. "What’s the matter -- got a case of jock itch?" He asked sarcastically.

Beth shot him an angry look. "No, It’s a size problem. I’ve got the largest dick I’ve ever seen. Yours included," she retorted, and Carl’s face went pale.

"Let’s get back to work," Patty interrupted, rising to her feet. "We’ve got a lot to do yet today."

Carl stood up and looked at Beth as if he was going to say something, but he kept his mouth shut and headed towards his crane. As Beth was passing by Patty grabbed her arm and pulled her to one side.

"That was out of line," she told the former woman after the others had left.

"Well, he was mocking me," she replied defensively.

Patty shook her head. "That’s how men talk to each other," she told Beth. "Carl was just kidding around with you, and you insulted him in front of the others. You owe him an apology."

Beth shook her head. "I’m not apologizing," she said flatly.

Patty sighed. "Look, I don’t know how much experience you’ve had with men, but I had a husband and two sons before this mess, and they said stuff like that all the time. You’re still thinking like a woman. You can’t make a comment like that and expect a man -- one who has been one all his life -- to get into a cat fight with you. That’s not how guys operate. You almost had a real fight on your hands."

"Let him try, I’m not his little wife anymore. I’m a hell of a lot bigger and stronger than he is now. I’ll kick his ass."

"You might be bigger and stronger," Patty acknowledged, "but how many fights have you had in your life? Guys fight from the time they’re kids. If you keep saying stuff like that you’ll force him to do something."

"I don’t care. Even if I lose --"

"Listen to me," Patty interrupted. "I can’t have two of my people at each other’s throats. It would ruin the morale of our group. One of you would have to go, and Carl is the best crane operator on the planet. Do I make myself clear?"

Beth looked at Patty and saw that she dead serious, then she shrugged. "All right, I’ll talk to him," she allowed.

"Good. And remember that you’ve got to learn to control yourself. I think it’s the male hormones, or something like that, but us ex-women have to learn how to handle it or we’re gonna get in trouble."

"Okay, I see your point," Beth said contritely.

Patty sighed as Beth walked back to the structure. The problem, as she saw it, was twofold. First, the new men were becoming increasingly aggressive, just like the "native" males, and they didn’t know how to handle their new assertiveness. In most cases they weren’t even aware of what was happening. Second, they didn’t understand their new "brothers." They hadn’t been raised as guys, and they didn’t have a clue about male bonding or how men interacted with each other. As a result there were a lot of skirmishes and hard feelings, and every time another disagreement arose the colony was adversely affected. Patty hoped everything would settle down, but she was afraid things would get worse before they improved.

____________________

Dan McNeil, Sr. watched his erstwhile son playing with Vickie while he helped Jeff with his lunch. The two year old, former doctor and cryogenics specialist was having problems handling his spoon, and half of his macaroni and cheese was on his shirt or in his lap, and it seemed the other half was on his face or in his hair. Dan had offered to help, but in the petulant nature of two year olds Jeff had insisted on feeding himself, or at least trying. It was depressing that Jeff no longer recognized Dan or recalled their friendship. There was nothing at all left of the learned physician and scientist, except perhaps the spark of genius that had once propelled him to greatness. Jeff was a very bright child.

A high-pitched squeal and a confusion of giggles distracted Dan from his task. He looked over at the other two children and saw Vickie chasing Danny around the area, running between the tables and dodging other children and adults. Vickie was now considerably taller than his son, and she soon ran him down and grabbed his arm. She yelled something unintelligible and began tickling Danny, who shrieked and squirmed to no avail. They tumbled to the ground and Vickie rolled on top of Dan, pinning him beneath her as she continued to tickle him. Danny’s long hair swept the dirt and Dan sighed as he realized all of the kids would need a bath and clean clothes.

He wiped Jeff’s mouth and did his best to brush the macaroni out of his hair and clothes, then took his hand and led him over to get the other kids. By the time he reached them they were sitting on the ground with their backs against a tree, chatting and laughing, and Dan was struck by the friendship that had developed between Vickie and Dan, Jr. In the two days he’d been baby-sitting them they had been inseparable, preferring each other’s company to the other children in the area. It was almost as if their marriage had survived the transformation, evolving into a new form of relationship that was as deep as children their age could form.

Vickie was clearly the dominant one now; she was taller, stronger, and a typical little boy. But she seemed to have a special bond with Danny, and he with her. It was amusing to see her show off for her former husband, climbing trees and performing other feats of daring, while he watched in awe and applauded her accomplishments. Danny seemed to have no similar need to prove himself, and was content to let Vickie be the leader. He obviously looked up to her, and there was a trace of hero worship in his eyes whenever Vickie was showing off, not unlike other little girls his age. Dan shook his head as he considered the amazing role reversal between the two kids.

He gathered the children together and marched them back to their assigned barracks, where he rummaged through their footlockers for fresh clothes. Caring for the three children had impressed upon him the need for additional clothes, and he thanked God for the clothing exchange, despite the ordeal it put him through. He selected a "Sky Rangers" tee shirt and a pair of navy shorts for Jeff, along with clean socks and briefs. Then he found a yellow, floral print pullover top and light blue shorts for Danny. After digging out a pair of clean cotton panties and a pair of white socks for his son, Dan grabbed a pair of denim shorts and a football jersey, along with socks and briefs for Vickie.

Dan took Jeff and Danny into the women’s section of the sanitary unit and sent Vickie into the men’s section. At the age of six she was a little too old to bring into the ladies room, and she was perfectly capable of dressing herself. Unfortunately there were no bath tubs, only showers, and while Danny was old enough to take a shower by himself, Dan had to help Jeff, especially with his hair. Dan got wet in the process, and after helping Danny dry his hair and brush it out, he took Jeff back to the dorm unit while he got into some dry clothes. Since the clothing exchange Dan had learned that his new measurements were 36-24-35, and that he weighed 114 pounds. His 5’5" frame still seemed incredibly short, but he was unconsciously adapting to it. After six days he no longer missed when he reached for door handles and light switches, and the simple act of walking no longer presented a challenge. But having breasts was still a major distraction. He detested the way his D cup boobs bounced, jiggled, and generally got in the way -- despite his underwire bras. Dan didn’t think he’d ever get used to having tits.

He looked through his new wardrobe and finally selected a white, short sleeve crop-top, denim shorts that were entirely too short, and a pale blue bra and panty set. He would have preferred something less revealing than the crop-top and short-shorts, but the girl who had occupied his body was barely out of her teens, newly married, and obviously enjoyed showing off her magnificent body. Just about everything in the footlocker was equally revealing, except for a few dresses and cold weather gear, and they were clearly not designed for the sub-tropical heat of the colony’s location. Dan struggled into the clothes, slipped his feet back into his natural leather sandals, and re-set his hair into a ponytail while Jeff looked on with mild curiosity.

After he finished dressing Dan put Jeff down for a nap and set Danny and Vicky to work on a puzzle another woman had given him. He needed a little time to himself, so he left the kids in the dorm and went outside to get a cup of coffee from the open air cafeteria before it closed. Cup in hand, Dan made his way over to the table and sat down, ignoring the admiring glances he was getting from some of the men. After the events of the past two days he needed some time to think and sort things out.

So much had happened so fast. First Karen had asked him to watch Jeff while she was at work, then there was his resignation from his ad hoc job in the Colony office, and most recently the clothing exchange. All three events had depressed him, and despite the fact that he could have refused Karen’s request and kept his job, Dan felt his life was spiraling out of control. It would have been selfish to refuse Karen, especially since he was acutely aware that she was far more important to the colony in her position than he was in his job. After the first day as a part-timer Dan had seen that his "assistant" was far more efficient than he, and that his work was nothing more than clerical. When he compared what he was contributing to Karen’s duties as one of the few remaining medical professionals, Dan knew her services were far more valuable. He couldn’t say no to her, even though he knew it meant becoming a full-time baby-sitter.

Then there was the clothing exchange. When Dan went to get his new wardrobe he had been met by a teary-eyed teenage boy, about 16 years old -- the former occupant of his body. The ex-woman had learned she was pregnant six days before the colonists had left earth, and she had been overjoyed at the news, as had her husband. But now her husband was a forty-something guy and her baby had been taken from her by a cruel twist of fate. She felt as though her entire life had been ripped apart, and she begged Dan to take good care of her unborn child and to be allowed to visit the baby after its birth. Despite his ambivalence towards the baby Dan’s heart went out to her and he promised her he would give her child all the care and love he had, and that she could see the baby whenever she wanted. To do anything less would have been cruel, but Dan felt that every time he turned around he was sinking deeper and deeper into quicksand, into a life where he had no control.

 

To be continued . . .

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