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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. The work also includes mature subject matter, and may not be appropriate for those under the age of eighteen. No part of this work may be reproduced in any form without the express written consent of the author. All rights reserved. Personal archiving for private use is approved, however, no website, aside from StorySite.org may post this work without approval.

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

Scrambled Souls
by: Julia Manchester © 2001

Part 3

CHAPTER TEN

Dennis stared down at himself, then glanced back at the mirror. After ten days the sixteen year old female body he occupied was beginning to feel normal, and he wasn’t nearly as self-conscious as when he first awoke on New America, but his eyes were still having problems getting used to the image of his new form -- especially in a dress.

He tried to tell himself it really wasn’t a dress -- it was a nurse’s uniform -- but he knew he was being less than candid. The white uniform was essentially a short sleeve, belted dress with rounded collar points, a knee-length skirt, and a button-down bodice. The traditional nurse’s cap, white pantyhose and white shoes completed the outfit and left no doubt that he was part of the medical staff.

Dennis had sworn he would never wear a dress, but that was before the temperature had climbed to a sweltering 96o, making the synthetic slacks and smock he had inherited from Sally much too uncomfortable. He suffered through two days of sweaty underwear and prickly heat before he had finally given in the previous day and worn the dress uniform for the first time. To his surprise no one had laughed at him or made any snide comments, and as the day wore on he discovered the dress was far more comfortable than his other uniform. The A - line skirt allowed air to circulate around his legs, and the vee neck of the button-down dress ventilated his upper body without revealing anything intimate. He could even leave the top button open, and by the end of the day Dennis was sold on the advantages of the dress -- at least in hot weather.

The only drawbacks were the necessity of carrying a purse and the need to stoop rather than bend at the waist when he reached down for something, but he considered those minor inconveniences compared to his comfort.

Dennis pinned his pure white cap to his hair with bobby pins, as Karen had taught him to do, then affixed his nametag above his left breast and examined himself in the mirror again. He was the picture of a pretty nursing student, and despite his lingering self-doubts he knew he was attractive. Back on Earth he would have definitely looked twice at the cute girl staring back from the mirror, and given half a chance he would have asked her out. But that was in the past.

A polite tapping on the door reminded Dennis that there were eleven other females in the temporary shelter sharing this one bathroom with him, so he collected his purse and quickly opened the door. Waiting on the other side was his feminized father, holding the hand of his brother Dan, who was now in the body of a five year old girl. His diminutive brother was sniffling, and after a moment Dennis noticed that he’d wet his pants. His now gorgeous father smiled at him weakly and squeezed past Dennis, dragging his child behind him. Dennis was filled with sadness as he watched his father stoop down and help his older brother remove his shorts and soggy panties, struck by the terrible waste of talent the colony had endured.

He helped his dad by taking Dan to the toilet while his father rinsed out the wet clothes. Dan Jr. had once been a bright engineer with a promising career, but since the malfunction of the routing program he had been reduced to a small girl-child who no longer knew anything of mathematics, mechanics, engineering, or much else. Danny -- as their father referred to him now -- acted like any other five year old girl, and had no memories of being a man, much less his marriage.

At the same time his dad, Dan Sr., had become one of the most beautiful girls Dennis had ever seen. While Dennis was cute his father was an absolute babe -- undoubtedly the most gorgeous girl in the colony -- but his father was having a really rough time adapting.

His dad’s voice interrupted his thoughts. "Dennis, would you stay with Danny for a moment while I find him some dry clothes?"

"Sure." He turned back to his feminized brother. "C’mon Danny, let’s get you cleaned up."

"Okay," replied the little girl in a tiny voice, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

Dennis led Danny over to a sink and used a washcloth to clean his brother’s legs. As he stooped down to help, Dennis felt his skirt tighten and his pantyhose hiss as the dress slid up his thighs. He ignored the sensations and finished by gently patting Danny’s legs with a towel.

"All finished," he announced in a funny voice to humor his small sibling, and Danny giggled and hugged Dennis around his neck. "Thank you," he replied. "Can I go out and play?"

"After your nap, Danny," their father answered as he returned with some fresh clothes.

Dennis let go of his tiny brother and stepped back as their father had him step into a fresh pair of panties and a pair of yellow shorts. Danny’s cute little sandals and frilly white ankle socks hadn’t gotten wet, so he turned and tried to run away, but his feminine father reached out and snagged the waistband of his shorts.

"Danny! Come back here." He ordered. "You can’t go around without a shirt."

"Vic does," the child whined, referring to his former wife, who was now in the body of a six year old boy.

"Vicky is a boy now -- Boys can do that. But you’re a girl, and girls don’t walk around without a shirt or a blouse," his father explained.

"But, it’s too hot!" Danny wailed.

"That doesn’t make any difference," Dan Sr. sighed. "Girls always wear shirts or blouses."

"Why?"

"Well, because . . . I say so. Now, put this top on, then run along and hop into your bed for your nap."

Dennis grabbed his purse and left his father, still arguing with Danny, and he headed towards the med center. He didn’t want to late today because Dr. Van Werkom promised to let Kerina out of bed for a short walk, if she was feeling up to it, and Dennis wanted to accompany her. Kerina had regained consciousness the previous day, and though she was terribly weak and drained from the fever, she was coherent and hungry -- always a good sign according to Karen. Dennis had scarcely left her side for four days, and he was overjoyed when Kerina finally returned to the land of the living. He held her hand and talked to her for an hour before Karen finally told him to let his patient get some sleep.

When he arrived at the temporary hospital Dennis noticed that Dr. Van Werkom and Karen were both standing next to Kerina’s bed, and he was quite concerned until he heard them laughing. He approached the bed, suddenly feeling nervous for some strange reason, and waited until Dr. Van Werkom saw him.

"Oh, hi Dennis. We were just checking your patient to see if she’s comfortable. I hope you don’t mind."

"Uh, no. Of course not," Dennis replied shyly. He was confused as to why the doctor would refer to Kerina as "his" patient. He was just a nurse-trainee and Dr. Van Werkom was a world-renowned physician.

"I just took a blood sample of Kerina, in the hopes of isolating a special antibody we discovered last night," the good doctor continued. "If we can, we might be able to develop an anti-toxin for whatever it is that bit your patient."

"My patient?" Dennis remarked, looking at Dr. Van Werkom.

"Of course. Karen has told me about how you nursed Kerina for four days, day and night, and that she might not have made it without your special care."

Dennis felt his cheeks growing red, and he noticed Kerina looking at him with great interest. He was embarrassed by the doctor’s statements, but even more so by the way Kerina was staring at him. Suddenly the glare from the fluorescent lights seemed very bright, and Dennis averted his eyes.

"I didn’t do anything special," he mumbled. "I just did what Karen told me to do."

"Nonsense," Karen replied. "You did most of it on your own, and I don’t know of any trained nurse that could have done better. Kerina probably owes her life to you."

Before Dennis could respond Dr. Van Werkom announced that he had to get the sample to the lab while it was fresh, and he asked Karen to look in on another patient. An uneasy silence lingered in their wake, until Kerina finally spoke up.

"Before you leave I want to thank you for . . . everything. For taking care of me while I was in bad shape. Dr. Van Werkom was really serious when he told me your help probably made the difference."

Dennis looked away again. "He and Karen are both exaggerating. They want me to go into nursing," he explained, but Kerina shook her head.

"No, Dr. Van Werkom was dead serious when he talked with me. He told me I almost didn’t make it. That’s why he wants to try to develop that serum from my blood. He thinks it might help others who might run across the same nasty creature. He said you have a great ‘feel’ for nursing, and you seem to know exactly what to do for a patient."

"Well, maybe, but I figure it was the least I could do. You wouldn’t have been bitten if you hadn’t saved me from drowning. It was all my fault, really," Dennis replied.

"No it wasn’t," Kerina disputed. "Besides, you’re worth it."

Dennis looked at Kerina when he heard that remark and saw a lopsided grin on her face. His breath caught in his throat and his pulse suddenly felt like the poundings of a jackhammer. He knew he was blushing, but he could not help it, and he was confused by a myriad of strange new feelings. His first impulse was to run away and find someplace where he could think and sort out the odd emotions he was feeling, but something held him there, next to Kerina’s bed, unable to move.

After a few moments Kerina interrupted his confusion.

"Dr. Van Werkom said it’s okay for me to get up for a short walk, but all I have is this hospital gown. Can I have my clothes back?"

Dennis snapped out of his reverie and once again became the personification of efficiency. "Sure. I’ll get them for you," he responded, thankful to have something to take his mind off his strange emotions.

He bent down and retrieved Kerina’s things from the small, bedside cabinet. Dennis had taken them to the sanitation facility a couple of days before and cleaned everything. When he brought them back to the hospital he noticed some rips and tears, so he mended the small holes, then neatly folded everything and stored the items. Karen had seen him mending the clothes as he sat next to the still unconscious Kerina, but she had said nothing, and Dennis was actually relieved when Kerina didn’t notice his needlework. He passed the clothes to Kerina, and when she confirmed she was capable of dressing herself Dennis left the room for a few minutes.

When he returned Kerina was completely dressed, with the exception of her shoes, and she seemed to be having some difficulty with them so Dennis offered to help. He stooped down and slid the shoes on her feet and ran his thumb along the press tabs to close them.

"You look good in that uniform," Kerina remarked as Dennis finished with the second shoe, and when he looked up he saw her staring down at him with that same lopsided grin.

Suddenly Dennis realized that, from that angle, Kerina could see right down the front of his dress, and he rose quickly, blushing yet again.

"Thanks," he replied softly. "I, uh, only wore it because of the heat. It’s a lot cooler than --

"I know," Kerina interrupted. "I used to wear skirts and dresses myself. Don’t be embarrassed," she added as she rose gingerly from the bed.

____________________

Larry Taylor set the report from the agricultural station aside and yawned. He had gotten a little more sleep the past few days but his energy reserves were still low from long hours of crisis management. At least the colony wouldn’t starve, though. Probably. The report from his chief agronomist was the best news he’d had in several days. The rich black soil of New America appeared perfect for growing a wide range of farm products, and the crews had already begun planting -- mostly cereals to begin with, but vegetables were supposed to go in next. Considering the climate, the report was projecting the first crops could be harvested in less than five months.

There other successes too, such as the establishment of a permanent vehicle repair facility, the extension of basic utilities to approximately half the housing sites, and the accelerating pace of construction. Max Schiller, his sole remaining bio-technician, had recruited a couple of young, college kids to help him with the livestock DNA, and they were already incubating a few chickens, ducks and geese. Aside from that, construction of the new community center had begun the previous day, and the colony was nearly ready to switch over to a currency-based economy. Various small cottage industries such as day care, cabinet making, handyman services, and of course beauty shops had already begun to blossom, but they were mostly based on barter. Once the currency was issued Larry expected the private sector to really flourish.

Yet, despite all the accomplishments there were many, serious underlying problems that had to be addressed. Several of the issues had proven to be very divisive, and threatened to cause a lot of unrest. Chief among these was the "Reproductive Duties" clause of the Colonial Charter, which required every adult woman to bear a minimum of three children, and every adult man to father a like number. Under the terms of the Charter, if a man were discovered to be sterile his wife would have to accept in-vitro fertilization with sperm supplied from the sperm banks, and if the wife were barren, she would be required to accept in-vitro with a donor egg, fertilized with her husband’s sperm. Virtually every possible contingency had been foreseen, to guarantee the continuation of the colony -- except what had actually occurred.

About the only thing everyone agreed upon was that the remnant of the Colonial Assembly was no longer representative of the colonists. There were only five left that were capable of handling the duties, including Larry, and the circumstances had changed radically from what everyone expected. Now each group -- the M/Ms, F/Ms, F/Fs and M/Fs -- each wanted to be heard, at least as far as "reproductive duties" were concerned.

Larry actually welcomed the new elections. He was growing weary of shouldering most of the administrative duties by himself, and he was very uncomfortable with ruling by decree. He strongly believed in representative democracy, and readily agreed to the suggestion to hold new elections in two weeks. According to the Charter, the candidate with the most votes would become the new president, and the runner-up would assume the duties of Vice President. The next nine would round out the Assembly, and Larry noted the beginnings of factionalism as each group began to organize to elect as many of their own as possible.

Despite their sometimes bitter disagreements, they had actually managed to accomplish a few things at their last meeting. The Assembly had passed a measure affirming the duty of "competent" parents to support their children, regardless of a child’s new form, and a similar measure was passed concerning spouses who had become "incompetent." Finally, all mixed gender couples would be required to re-register their marriage, or their marriages would administratively annulled, just as the same-sex couples. If they were considered single, the individuals would not be entitled to marriage benefits, but they would remain responsible for their children.

None of these measures were considered controversial, and there was general agreement not only among the Assembly, but also the large crowd in attendance.

____________________

Pat tossed the shovel out of the pit and wearily climbed the ladder to the surface. When she reached the top she unbuttoned her blue work shirt and tossed it aside. Even though the sun had set it was still around ninety degrees, and she was about done in. Sweat trickled down her muscular chest, tickling the curly hairs that sprouted there, leaving streaks in the grime that seemed to cover her entire body. Her muscles ached, and she sat down heavily on a pile of fragrant, dark soil, too tired to look up as Einstein, the smaller of New America’s two moons, raced across the sky. Pat had been working in the hole for nearly three hours, ever since her shift ended, squaring off the corners and getting it ready for the plasticrete pour. It was finally starting to look like something, and she estimated she would finish it tomorrow.

Her excavation resembled a three-sided box and was located on the edge of a small, level area, halfway up the northern line of hills that overlooked the colony. The pit was the result of an idea she had come up with while constructing single - family dwellings for others. The temporary structures simply didn’t provide a lot of room for large families, and her own family had five already, counting Vic -- with more to come if the colonists didn’t amend the Charter -- and Pat wanted to have enough room for her family to be comfortable. Since there were only enough housing units to go around she came up with the idea of constructing a lower level, using plasticrete to form the walls and floor. Then she could erect the temporary structure directly over the lower level, and double her living area.

After much careful thought, Pat had come up with the idea of a home with a walk-out lower level, and she put a bid in for a nice site with a southern exposure on the side of the hill. The trees that grew on the hill were just dense enough to provide some privacy and make the home difficult to see from below without seriously obstructing the view. The colony had plenty of plasticrete -- it was easy to make -- and she had bartered for the services of a carpenter, an electrician, and a foundation expert. Now, if things went well she would have a 4,000 square foot home, with a nice view of the colony and the ocean.

A slight breeze wound its way through the tall trees, bringing with it the scent of the ocean and a slight briny tang, and Pat turned her head and stared out at the water. Even in the reflected light of Edison, New America’s other, larger and more sedate moon, the ocean was a black void, stretching to infinity. She recalled how her younger son had nearly drowned in its depths, and the thought sent a chill through her, despite the temperature. But Dennis had survived, thanks to Kerina, and they had all learned an important lesson. The incident, including Kerina’s near-death experience, had frightened many of the colonists, but not Pat. It had disturbed her, at first, but when Kerina came out of her coma Pat put the incident behind her.

Pat propped her chin in her hands while she stared out at the vast new planet and considered the opportunities and challenges it presented. They had a chance to start over with a clean slate, on a planet that was completely uninhabited. They could make anything of this world they wished, and she realized that the opportunity was practically unique. Her mind seemed crammed with possibilities, and she savored every one of them, examining each in turn, analyzing, and planning. There were so many things she could do, so many things that were possible here that were only a dream back on old Earth, that she could barely wait to get started.

The only thing that gave her pause was the behavior of her feminized husband. Pat was still unaware that Dan was pregnant, and his attitude and actions upset her. She had always looked up to and respected him, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. Since their awakening on New America Dan had become emotional and irrational. He still wanted to be treated as the head of the household, but he refused to look at things logically. He could not accept that he was now the woman in their relationship, and he seemed to resent her newfound masculinity.

Back on Earth Pat had always deferred to Dan as the ultimate authority in their home. He was the man, and Pat’s traditional upbringing had taught her to believe that a wife should submit to her husband and support him. But now that their roles were reversed, Dan could not bring himself to accord her the same respect. He questioned her judgment, constantly whined and complained, and in general acted like a petulant child. He resented having to watch the "kids," including Jeff Ellis, while she left every morning to do a "real" job, and he had argued with her over her choice of this location for a home, even though he had nothing better in mind. He insisted on attending all of the meetings of the Assembly, even though he rarely contributed to their discussions and was really nothing more than their recording secretary now.

Still, Pat could have put up with all of that if there was any affection between them, but their former love for one another seemed to have died with the body swap. After spending some time in her new body Pat had come to understand the needs and desires of a man. Lately, she had found herself staring at some of the more attractive females, wondering what it was like to experience the act of love from a man’s viewpoint. She felt her new body stirring on occasion, but she also craved the intimacy that had been denied to her since the great switch. The other day she had cautiously approached Dan and gently suggested they find some time to be alone, and he had reacted with fear and loathing, backing away from her with a terrified expression on his face. When Pat saw the fear in Dan’s eyes, and the way he cringed, she realized that he was afraid of her and she laughed at him. At that point Dan had fled the room in tears and terror, and he had been avoiding her ever since.

Pat’s laughter quickly turned to anger and contempt. They had been married for over twenty years, and she had never done anything to cause him to react like that. She had given him three fine children and had always trusted him completely, yet he was unwilling or unable to trust HER. She came to the conclusion that her feminized husband was a coward, something she would never have suspected. But it was clear he didn’t have the courage to face life as a woman.

Pat sighed heavily and rose to her feet. She walked to the edge of the hole and stared over it, down at the few lights in the valley below. The deadline for transformed couples to re-register their marriage was fast approaching and she had serious doubts about her relationship with Dan. She was positive that she didn’t want to go on like this.

____________________

One of the lights in the valley winked out as Dan finished tucking the children into their beds and exited the sleeping area. Karen had stopped by to pick up Jeff an hour before, and Dan had spent the entire time since getting the kids into bed. He was terribly tired, but the air conditioning was down and the heat made it nearly impossible to sleep. He walked away from the darkened building and wandered towards an open area, hoping to catch a small breeze, but there was none at the moment.

Dan wiped the sweat above his upper lip even as another bead trickled down between his shoulder blades, causing him to squirm uncomfortably. His shirt was damp with perspiration, as was his bra, and the thin, white button-down top was plastered to his body. It was completely dark now, and no one was around, yet Dan still looked over his shoulder nervously as he unbuttoned the blouse and held it open just a bit to allow some air to get to his clammy skin. At that moment a small puff of breeze stirred and Dan sighed with relief.

The transformed man looked around and spotted a picnic table about ten meters away, and he headed for it, brushing a few of the local flies away as he walked. Dan climbed onto the table and sat on the top with his feet resting on the seat and stared up at New America’s night sky. In Edison’s dim light the heavens appeared wondrously beautiful, and the stars were like a sprinkling of diamond dust on black velvet, with strange new patterns unlike anything seen on Earth. Dan leaned back and braced himself with his arms as he studied the night sky and looked for good old Sol among the millions of sparkling points. But, despite knowing its approximate location, he was unable to pick it out with certainty. There were many other celestial wonders that were visible, including an interesting binary system, with a large blue star paired with a dimmer red, and fantastic blue nebula, but for some reason Dan couldn’t get excited about those galactic features. He was too depressed.

Dan had been hit harder than most of the transplanted colonists. Aside from being inserted into a gorgeous female body he was about eight inches shorter and twenty-five years younger than he was. He was also pregnant. He’d lost his oldest son and namesake, who was now a five year old girl, and his younger son was also female -- a cute 16 year old girl who had abandoned his plans to become an engineer in favor of a career in nursing. The incredible malfunction in the routing program had left his wife as the only male in the family, and she was treating him like a child, insisting on taking the reins of authority and assuming the role of dominant male.

Perhaps it was due to his age -- Dan had been one of the oldest of the colonists -- or perhaps it was just a combination of everything, but the feminized man was barely able to function. The younger colonists seemed to be able to adapt to one degree or another, but he had been a man, a respected professional, for a long time, and he found it very hard to accept the new role that fate had handed him. It was clear that the colony would survive now, at least for the short term, but he’d had very little to do with the progress they had made to date. His only contribution had been at a job that he now recognized was mostly clerical, and that had wounded his ego. On top of everything else he had endured morning sickness, the loss of his job and incredibly weird mood swings. He found himself crying for no reason, giggling at stupid things, or moody and depressed over trivial matters. He felt very self-conscious dealing with other people, and lately he had been living in constant fear.

His fear stemmed from the fast approaching deadline the Assembly had imposed on reversed couples to reaffirm their marriages. Dan had less than two weeks to decide if he wanted to stay with Pat as her "wife," and it was the devil’s choice. He wasn’t sure he could agree to be anyone’s wife, with everything that went along with the title, but if he refused he would be forced into the single women’s’ housing, and in about seven or eight months he would be a single mother. A single woman with an infant would never be able to maintain a home without help, so he would be stuck in the dormitory until his child was old enough for daycare, unless the new Assembly affirmed the "biological duties" clause of the Charter, in which case he could stuck there until he fulfilled his "quota" of three babies.

Dan felt his chest tightening and his breath becoming ragged as he fought the panic that threatened to engulf him. The very thought of going through three pregnancies was horrible to the former man, and drove him to thoughts of suicide. It took every scrap of willpower he possessed to fight back the terror and keep from screaming.

In the end he realized that he had no real choice. He could stay with Pat or let himself be taken by someone he might not even know, all in the name of preserving the colony. At least a wife had status and a home -- A single mother had neither. The single females were nothing but breeding stock, and Dan had no illusions about how they would be treated. When their quotas were met they would be given some menial job, probably in the day care center, and their incomes would reflect their status. Dan decided right then that he had to swallow his pride, grit his teeth, and agree to reaffirm his marriage, assuming Pat would have him.

He hadn’t exactly acted the part of the loving wife since his reawakening, and he knew Pat was growing impatient with him, but the truth of the matter was that he was terrified of her. Then there was the little problem of his pregnancy. He had not told her he was pregnant, and he had sworn Karen to secrecy, but he would have to tell Pat before they signed the new marriage license. She might not like the idea of supporting another man’s child, which she would be forced to do if they reaffirmed. Her attitude towards him had been very cold lately, especially after he had refused her clumsy attempt at intimacy.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Keith Ellis struggled to lift the tray full of dirty dishes from the cafeteria table. It really wasn’t all that heavy, but his sister’s body was far weaker than his own and he strained under the weight as he carried the tray to the dishwasher. As he turned to get another tray he felt his long hairbrush across his shoulders and he sighed as he realized he would have to wash it again tonight. Every time he worked in the cafeteria his hair wound up smelling like food, and Keith hated the smell. But he also hated washing his sister’s long blonde hair. It took forever to dry, and he had to use conditioner and style it, or it would look like he stuck his finger in an electrical outlet.

The ex-boy was gradually becoming acclimated to his new position and role, but he was far from happy about being a girl. He had discovered that girls were very "high maintenance," compared to boys, and it grated on him that his sister, who had wound up in his body, could shower and dress in twenty minutes, while it took him forever to get ready to go somewhere. Then there were the clothes. Kellie, who know referred to herself as "Kyle," had packed a very feminine wardrobe, most of which consisted of tight skirts and blouses that were just barely adequate for life in a new colony. The jeans and slacks that she did bring were similarly tight and form fitting -- hardly what Keith would consider work clothes. His current outfit consisted of a white camisole with very thin straps, a pair of legless, girl’s shorts, and white, wedge sandals with 1 3/4 inch heels and straps that wound around his ankles, tying in a bow in front.

After two weeks Keith was becoming a little more comfortable with the clothes, but other things were beginning to bother him. Originally, upon waking from the cryogenic sleep, his mannerisms and posture had been clumsy and quite masculine, but as time went on he noticed that his actions and gestures, the way he sat, stood and walked -- had become increasingly feminine. He certainly wasn’t trying to act like a girl, and it almost seemed that his sister’s body was forcing his movements and posture into a feminine demeanor. That morning at breakfast, Keith had caught himself sitting with his legs canted to one side and his heels together, tucked alongside his chair. A little later, while he was picking up trays, he realized he was stooping down to pick up the trays in a very feminine fashion, holding his upper body upright instead of simply bending over to retrieve them like a guy. He already knew his gait was becoming quite feminine, with a slight swing in his hips, but he had given up trying to stop it. He could hold himself in check for a little while, but as soon as he was distracted he reverted to his feminine "default" setting, and Keith was worried he would soon reach the point where he couldn’t override his body’s dictates. With each passing day he felt more and more comfortable, more natural, in his sister’s body, and it was becoming harder and harder to recall what it felt like to be a boy.

That wasn’t the worst of it, though. Keith could handle the physical changes because they seemed increasingly natural and most of the time he wasn’t aware of them, but there were things going on in his mind that he could not ignore.

Keith had become very self-conscious around guys since the great swap, especially boys his own age. They seemed generally loud, boisterous, and sometimes quite crude -- and there was just something in their attitudes that he found intimidating. Nearly all of them were bigger and stronger than his new, feminine form, and they exuded a confidence and self-assurance that Keith no longer possessed. Even his sister had developed an aggressive, take-charge attitude that was disconcerting, and she had taken to teasing him in much the same way he once teased her.

At the same time Keith found it increasingly hard to assert himself. He no longer felt driven to express an opinion on everything, and he realized that he was listening more and talking less, even when he spoke with other females. Where the "old" Keith was a born leader, driven to compete, the "new" Keith was really quite shy, avoiding the spotlight whenever possible. Being the leader, the best athlete, the center of attention, didn’t seem important anymore, and Keith was quite content to blend in and become one of the group. In fact, his greatest desire was to belong, be a part of something, he just didn’t know where or how he fit in anymore.

As Keith was finishing up his shift he saw his sister walk in, accompanied by Jerrud Sadler, a very tall, sixteen year old boy who had been one of the very few to awake in his own skin. Keith and Jerrud had shot pool and played basketball and baseball at the base, before their departure, but he had not seen him since. Jerrud was at least 6’ 2" but he seemed even taller to Keith now. He had playfully referred to Keith as "Squirt" back on Earth, which was one of the reasons Keith had worked hard to develop his muscles back at the base -- He liked being accepted by the older guys, but he wanted to be respected too. His sister had told him that Jerrud was working with her on the road crew, but Jerrud had never come to the cafeteria while Keith was working.

Keith’s sister beckoned to him as she and Jerrud sat down at a table, and Keith walked over to see what she wanted. As he approached the guys he noticed they were both freshly scrubbed and wearing casual clothes instead of their dungarees.

"Hi guys," he chirped in his sister’s high voice. His voice no longer surprised him when he spoke, and he had stopped being aware of its new pitch and feminine timbre.

"Hey Squirt, is that really you?" Jerrud asked as he pulled out a chair and straddled it with his long legs.

Keith winced at Jerrud’s use of his nickname, but he nodded anyway.

"Yeah, unfortunately," he replied.

"Wow, that’s really something," Jerrud remarked. "I wonder what the odds are of a swap between twins?"

"Probably about the same as you winding up in your own lanky carcass," Kyle retorted.

Jerrud grinned at her, then looked at Keith. "We’re goin’ out to the dunes to hang with the gang. Wanna come?"

Keith hadn’t expected to be asked to go with the guys, and he stopped to think. His chores were done, for the most part, and he didn’t have to watch his dad tonight because his mom was getting out early. But he’d have to go back to their quarters to change shoes and leave a note for his mom.

"Sure, but I have to go home for a few minutes," he replied.

"Okay, we’ll meet you after we eat," Jerrud replied.

Keith hurried to his family’s quarters, which now they shared with only two other families, and tossed his purse on a chair as he let himself in. He quickly went to his footlocker and pulled out his sister’s canvas oxfords. He sat on his cot and bent down to untie the straps of his sandals, and as he did his hair fell forward and he detected the cafeteria scent he despised. Tossing his sandals into his locker, he decided to wash his hair, and as soon as he tied the white canvas shoes he grabbed his purse and headed to the sanitation facility.

Keith emerged twenty minutes later with his freshly washed hair held back in a ponytail with a scrunchie and the strap of his purse slung over him like a bandoleer, so it wouldn’t slip off as he climbed the dunes. The strap crossed between his breasts, but Keith wasn’t aware the position of the strap emphasized his modest bustline, or of Jerrud’s interest in his appearance. He still thought of Jerrud as a buddy, and he would have been appalled to know what Jerrud was thinking.

The heat was terribly oppressive, and Keith was shocked at how difficult it was to climb the steep dune. It would have been easy in his old body, and in fact his sister had no trouble at all, but Keith’s feminine body had none of the strength or stamina of his original form. He was panting and perspiring as he struggled to ascend the sandy hill, and he was forced to accept Jerrud’s help to get to the top. It was a completely humiliating experience, especially since he had to endure his sister’s smug expression and the laughter in her eyes when Jerrud took his hand.

When they reached the crest Keith saw about a dozen kids, most of whom were seated on logs arranged around a fire-blackened pit containing the charred remnants of several bonfires. A pile of driftwood was located a few yards outside the circle of log seats, and there were several coolers scattered about.

Keith had never been "up the dune," but he had heard the location had become a regular hangout for the kids his age, and now he saw why. This particular dune was the highest in the vicinity, with a fairly flat, level top. It afforded a magnificent view of the ocean and the beach for miles in each direction, and several small islands were visible near the horizon that could not be seen from sea level. There were a few small groves of the pine-like trees scattered about the crest, and the lee side of the dune had quite a few more trees, though many of those were half buried by the shifting sands. All in all it was a great place to meet and talk, and the effort it took to climb the monster almost guaranteed privacy. Few adults would make the climb just to check on a bunch of teens.

Jerrud led Keith over to the fire circle and introduced him to several of the others, and Keith did his best to remember everyone’s name, but there were too many to keep straight. He noticed that most of the kids were wearing swimsuits, and he wished he had thought of bringing his. Though the sun was now low on the horizon it was still very hot, and he envied the guys, who were all stripped to the waist, wearing nothing but swim trunks or shorts. Even his sister’s tank suit would have been cooler than what he had on.

One of the guys, Keith thought his name was Mike, walked over to Keith and Jerrud and handed them each a squarish, plastic container containing about 12 ounces of a carbonated soft drink. Then he handed each of them a couple of small, red berries.

"What are these?" Keith asked.

"Those are the greatest things we’ve found on this dumb planet," Mike replied. "We call ‘em Duneberries, because they grow on some bushes on the back side of the dune. They taste pretty strong by themselves, but they’re great when you crush ‘em and put ‘em in your drink."

"What do they taste like?"

"Well, you really can’t taste ‘em in your pop, but they help you relax and give you a small buzz, kinda like drinkin’ a few beers."

Keith looked at the two red berries, then looked at Jerrud. "Have you ever tried them?" He asked.

Jerrud shook his head. "This is the first I’ve ever heard of them," he replied. "Are you sure they’re, you know -- safe?" He asked Mike.

Oh yeah," Mike answered. "I’ve had ‘em a couple of times. Worst thing that ever happened to me was I got a little drunk, but that was after puttin’ ‘em in four drinks."

Keith looked at Jerrud. "What do you think?" He asked.

Jerrud shrugged. "I dunno," he replied. "I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try, if there’s no side effects."

"Hell, ask anyone here about ‘em," Mike offered. "Anyway, I don’t care if you use ‘em or not. It’s up to you."

"Well, thanks," Jerrud replied. "I didn’t mean anything, it’s just that I never heard of them before."

"No problem," Mike replied, then turned and walked over to another group of kids.

When Mike had gone Keith looked at Jerrud, who shrugged again. "I guess I’ll try anything once," he remarked, then he opened his soft drink and squeezed one of the berries between his fingers until it burst, then he dropped it into the drink and repeated the process with the second berry. Keith watched as Jerrud swirled his drink around a little to mix the berry juice with the pop, then took a swig.

"Not bad," he allowed. "The berries are a little tart, but I can hardly taste them."

Keith waited for a few moments, and when it appeared that Jerrud was not about pass out or start foaming at the mouth, he copied Jerrud, and took a small sip of his berry-laced pop. Jerrud was right -- the berries didn’t really change the taste, but there was a definite "tang" to his drink. After waiting a few minutes he figured that whatever buzz the berries gave him would be pretty mild, and he stopped worrying about them.

They mingled with some of the others while Kyle went off on her own, and Keith and Jerrud listened as several of their peers complained about being drafted into various jobs. From some of the things he heard Keith realized he was lucky to be working in the cafeteria. Some of the guys, like Jerrud and Kyle, were working on the road crew -- a hot, dirty, and physically exhausting job. Others were working on construction gangs or at the ag station. Even the girls’ jobs weren’t anything he envied. Some were working in the day care center, watching dozens of small children and changing dirty diapers, while others were working at the ag station, alongside the guys, planting crops. The rest seemed to be assigned to dull, clerical jobs. All of a sudden the cafeteria looked pretty good. At least it was clean and air-conditioned.

When Keith finished his drink Jerrud took the container and returned a few minutes later with another, and two more duneberries. Keith hadn’t even thought about the tart berries in his drink as he nursed the first one, and when he took stock of himself he didn’t feel drunk or sick, so he had no compunction about adding berries to his refill. As he sipped his second drink, though, Keith realized that he did feel a lot more relaxed than he had in days, and the absence of the tension that was his constant companion since his awakening was very pleasant. It gradually dawned on him that it was fun to be with other kids his own age and just hang out, without worrying about life and death issues or what the future might hold for him.

A few minutes later Jerrud told Keith he was heading over towards a few scrawny trees near the windward crest of the dune to find a place to sit down for a while, and he asked Keith if he wanted to come along.

"Sure," Keith replied, feeling quite relaxed, despite the lingering heat. "Maybe we can find a breeze over there," he remarked.

"Yeah, that would be nice. I’m beat from eight hours of road work," Jerrud announced.

Jerrud led off and Keith followed towards the small grove of conifer trees that hugged the rounded ridge of the ocean side of the dune. Keith noticed that the trees all seemed to grow at a slight angle, leaning away from the ocean, and he realized that he trees had been bent to the will of the on-shore winds. There were only eight or ten trees all tolled, not enough to block any breeze that might appear but enough to give a sense of privacy away from the others. He imagined that they might provide a bit of shade during the day, but that really wasn’t a factor now. The setting sun had lengthened their shadows, but there was no relief from the heat.

The sky was amber, laced with crimson streaks, as they entered the grove and looked for a place to sit. The exposed roots of the trees snaked and snarled around the area making the going treacherous, and Keith’s foot was snagged by one of the gnarled appendages and he stumbled into Jerrud, almost falling. Jerrud caught him easily and steadied him until Keith could dislodge his foot.

"Sorry. I’m awfully clumsy," Keith apologized as he stooped down and wiped some bark off his canvas shoe.

"No harm done," Jerrud replied casually. "Let’s sit down over there for a while," he suggested, gesturing to a pair of trees near the crest.

Keith nodded, and Jerrud led him over to the trees, still holding his hand. When Jerrud collapsed against one of trees Keith sat down and leaned back against its twin. The sun was a mere glowing bump on the horizon now, and the sky was turning from crimson to purple. Keith hoped that the temperature would abate with the departure of the sun, but it was a vain hope, and there was no breeze to speak of, even at the edge of the dune’s slope.

"Damn, this feels good," Jerrud remarked as he slumped down to a nearly prone position. "I’m pretty beat from shoveling asphalt."

"That’s got to be one of the crummiest jobs in the colony," Keith agreed sympathetically. "Kyle comes home filthy and tired every day."

"It’s really hot work," Jerrud agreed, "and it takes a special solvent to get it off. My clothes are covered with it, and I hate the smell."

"What’s going to happen when they get the school running? They can’t expect you to work and study at the same time," Keith noted.

Jerrud shrugged. "I don’t know. They’ll probably have most of the roads done by then. Maybe they’ll be able to finish up with one or two crews."

"I guess I got it easy, compared to you," Keith admitted.

"Yeah, but I still think I’m pretty lucky," Jerrud replied. "Not many of us wound up in our own bodies, even the ones who didn’t get an instant sex change. That’s really gotta be weird."

Keith drew his knees up and hugged them as he stared down the slope. The bottom of the dune was shrouded in shadow, and the darkness was gradually creeping up towards them.

Jerrud really had no idea of what it was like -- the loss of his manhood and most of his strength, the miserable cramps and bleeding when it was "that time of the month," the humiliation of having to wear his over-sexed sister’s feminine clothes, and above all, the horrible sense of wrongness and the terrible feelings of loneliness that overcame him when he realized he just didn’t "belong" anymore -- How could he understand?

"Yeah, it is," he responded, fighting back the tears that seemed to always be there. "And it’s not just me, it’s my whole family. My dad is a little girl now, and my crazy sister is now the "man" of the house! Mom is so busy at the hospital I hardly see her anymore.

"I don’t know who I am, or what I am . . ."

Jerrud leaned forward and Put his hand on Keith’s shoulder. "You are who you’ve always been," he assured Keith with surprising gentleness. "Only the outside is different."

Keith was surprised by Jerrud’s response. Was this the same macho guy he had hung out with back on Earth? He sure didn’t sound like the same guy. The old Jerrud would have made some sarcastic comment or flippant remark, with little or no thought to how the other guy felt. Maybe HE was different too. Maybe they all were.

____________________

The splash of magenta in the sky was surrounded by deep purple and indigo, and the darker hues chased the last bits of light from the skies. Within moments there was a magnificent starfield that was more intense and beautiful than any Keith remembered from Earth. He watched Edison rise ponderously; casting its unique gaze on New America, but speedy little Einstein remained hidden for the moment. The base of the dune was now a black void, and only a few feet of sand were visible from where the two friends sat.

But there was still no breeze, and it was still too hot, and Keith was jealous of Jerrud. The tall young man had stripped off his tee shirt and rolled it up, and he was now using it as a pillow. Keith longed to do the same, but he no longer had that prerogative. In all likelihood removing the thin, sleeveless top he wore would not affect his level of comfort, but it was the principle that bothered Keith. Jerrud had the option of removing his shirt in public, but he did not.

Keith fixed his gaze on his companion, unaware that he was staring, while he contemplated the inequity of the situation. He fell into a reverie, his mind a complete blank, until . . . Keith gradually realized he was examining Jerrud’s appearance, and that he was impressed by friend’s physique. He didn’t recall Jerrud’s arms and chest being that muscular, or his abs that noticeable, but his buddy appeared very well-developed now. Keith wondered whether Jerrud’s larger muscles were the result of working on the road crew or simply because he was maturing.

While Keith was contemplating Jerrud’s buff appearance Jerrud turned to face him, and caught Keith staring at him.

"What?"

"Huh?"

"Why are you staring at me?"

Keith shook his head to clear some weird random thoughts before answering. "I, uh, I was just thinking that it’s not fair," he mumbled.

"What are you talking about?" Jerrud asked, propping himself up on one elbow.

"I’m talking about you being able to take your shirt off, while I can’t," Keith explained.

"Why can’t you -- You’ve got something on under it, don’t you?"

"Well, of course, but --"

"So, it’s no big deal. Take your shirt off if you want to," Jerrud told him.

"But, I can’t!"

Jerrud laughed. "Look -- Keith -- I know you’re new to bein’ a girl, but did you see what some of the others were wearing?"

Yeah. So?"

"So, their suit tops probably cover a lot less than what you’re wearing under that shirt. Relax, it’s just the two of us. Nobody’s gonna laugh at you or think anything of it if you take off your shirt. It’s too damn hot to worry about that shit."

"Do you really think it’s okay?"

Jerrud sighed. "I don’t care one way or the other, but if you don’t believe me go ask some of the others," he retorted.

Keith considered Jerrud’s advice. Of course he was wearing a bra underneath his top -- Jerrud could see that for himself -- and though it was one of his sister’s ultra-feminine selections Jerrud was right about one thing -- It covered a hell of a lot more of him than some of the suit tops the other girls were wearing. Several of the girls were parading around in string bikinis that left most of their boobs -- not to mention their buns -- exposed. Moreover, some of those girls used to be boys, yet it didn’t seem to bother them and no one had said a word about their suits.

‘Why not?’ Keith asked himself, and when he couldn’t think of a reasonable objection he slowly peeled off his white camisole, keeping his eyes on Jerrud to judge his reaction. But his companion didn’t appear terribly interested, and slumped back down against the tree.

"Feel better?" He asked as he stared up at the stars.

"Yeah, I guess I do," Keith responded, though he had to admit the heat was still oppressive. Removing his top was more of a psychological relief than anything.

"Well, I’m gonna go get another drink. Want one?" Jerrud asked as he stood and stretched.

Keith looked up at his friend and nodded. "Thanks," he replied, holding out his empty container. He briefly considered going with Jerrud, but then decided he didn’t want to push his luck. Maybe Jerrud didn’t think anything of him sitting there in nothing but shorts and a bra, but some of the others might tease him, and Keith wasn’t ready for that.

When Jerrud had gone Keith stared down at himself appraisingly. He hated the soft, powder blue bra he was wearing. Its semi-sheer, lace trimmed cups made his modest breasts look larger than they really were and his sister’s nipples pushed into the soft fabric, while the straps cut into his shoulders -- though he was growing used to that by now. He actually figured he was lucky because his modest A cup bust wasn’t nearly as large as some of the other girls. Of course he was only fourteen and the girls with the larger bustlines were a couple of years older. It was sobering to know that his chest would probably develop quite a bit.

"Not bad for a kid, are they?"

Keith screeched and nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the voice coming from a few feet behind him.

"Oh God, don’t DO that!" He scolded Jerrud as he jumped up and turned to face his grinning friend. "You scared the hell out of me!"

Jerrud chuckled and held his hands up as if to ward off an attack. "Sorry, but I just couldn’t resist," he apologized -- though he did not look the least bit contrite to Keith.

"Here’s your drink." He held out another container of pop and several more duneberries.

Keith eyed him warily as he accepted the peace offering and crushed the berries into the drink. "I’m going to murder you if you ever do that again!" He warned Jerrud while his heart slowed.

"Hey, I said I was sorry," Jerrud protested. "Besides, if you weren’t so interested in your boobs you’d have heard me coming," he added.

"I was not -- "

"Sure you were," Jerrud interrupted, anticipating Keith’s denial. "But I don’t blame you. It’s only natural, I suppose. And, like I said, they’re not bad, for a kid."

Keith opened his mouth to argue with Jerrud’s characterization of him as a "kid," but thought better of it. He didn’t feel like arguing, and he was also distracted by an odd feeling that he couldn’t pin down. It had something to do with what Jerrud said to him, but he was too distracted to figure it out. He took a sip of his drink and settled back down on the sand next to his friend.

Two hours and two drinks later Jerrud had to help Keith down the dune. It was dark, and Keith was feeling the effects of the duneberries. He felt great, but his gait was unsteady, and Jerrud practically had to carry him down the hill. Then, when they reached the bottom, Jerrud held Keith’s hand to steady him, but even that was not enough, and after a few yards Jerrud wrapped his arm around Keith’s waist to hold him up. For some reason that struck Keith as hilarious, at least at first, and he giggled as Jerrud guided him down the path towards the colony. By the time Jerrud steered him up to his door, though, Keith was leaning against the tall boy, thinking that having Jerrud’s arm around his waist felt rather nice.

____________________

Dennis was torn by conflicting emotions as he examined himself in the mirror. The combination of his turquoise tube top and tight, skimpy white shorts made for a revealing outfit, but it was so damned hot he was almost past caring. Almost. He still felt a little self-conscious about wearing a tube top in public, though he wasn’t nearly as frightened as he had been the first time he wore a dress. When he had gone to the hospital wearing a skirted nurse’s uniform he half expected to be ridiculed, or at least kidded, so when he received nothing but positive comments from the staff he decided his fears were groundless, and he had worn his dress uniforms ever since. But this was a little different. The tube top and short-shorts were a lot more revealing than his uniforms. The skimpy little shorts with their minuscule two-inch inseam hugged his bottom, and the soft symmetry of the thin, elastic tube top was broken by the unmistakable points of his large nipples. Dennis wasn’t going to the hospital, either. He was going outside, among the general population, and he had already decided to run back to his quarters and change if anyone stared or laughed at him.

But, even as he inspected his reflection, he knew that his anxiety had more to do with Kerina than what others might think of him. What would she think of his outfit? Would she think he looked cool, or would she think he looked ridiculous? Would she approve of his effort to adapt, or would she realize that he didn’t have a clue about how to be a girl? What if she thought he was a jerk? What if she . . .

His nerves got the best of him, and Dennis let out a wail and sat down on his bed. He rested his elbows on his knees, propped his head in his hands, and closed his eyes for a moment, giving himself time to calm down. It was becoming easier and easier to accept his feminine form, but he didn’t understand the strange new emotions he was feeling, or why they seemed to be growing stronger every day. Why should he care what Kerina thought of his outfit? What difference did it make? What was the big deal, anyway? Nothing seemed to make any sense, especially his strange desire for Kerina’s approval.

Dennis opened his eyes and stared straight ahead, into the mirror, trying to understand the person who peered back. After a few moments he decided the girl facing him was one dizzy chick. She couldn’t concentrate on anything lately, and she was completely incapable of controlling her emotions. She was confused, insecure, subject to wild mood swings, and definitely schizophrenic. She didn’t know who she was, what she was, or what she wanted.

Then he realized that wasn’t completely true -- not all of it. She did know the "what." He’d said it himself: Girl . . . Chick . . . She . . . Her . . . Feminine nouns and pronouns, yet Dennis had continued to think of himself in masculine terms. Was that his real problem? Perhaps it was, though he wasn’t sure of anything at that point.

It wasn’t that he was intentionally denying his new nature. He wasn’t being stubborn -- at least he didn’t think he was. It was just so hard to get used to thinking of himself -- HERSELF -- as a girl. Oh, she was reminded of it often enough, when she dressed or used the bathroom, and whenever her skirt swirled around her legs or her breasts shifted, but she still tended to forget, especially when she was tending to patients.

Dennis took another good look at himself. The girl in the mirror was sitting on the edge of the bed, her legs apart, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands. Her dainty feet were strapped into sandals with two inch heels, and her shoulder length, light brown hair hung forward, obscuring her peripheral vision. Her face wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous, but she was definitely pretty -- except for the confused look in her eyes and the pouting expression. She didn’t have a voluptuous figure, but it was nice enough, with just a hint of cleavage showing above her tube top, and a narrow waist and hips that were wide, but not too wide. So, what was the problem?

With a sigh Dennis realized that Kerina was the problem, or rather her feelings for Kerina. Those feelings had started almost from the first moment Kerina had rescued her, while she -- he -- carried Dennis to shore, and they had grown stronger during the terrible time Dennis had nursed Kerina back to health. When Kerina’s life hung in the balance Dennis had literally willed that he would not die, and had devoted her life to Kerina’s care. Somewhere in the process Kerina had become the most important thing in Dennis’ life.

When the crisis passed the feelings of tenderness persisted, and Dennis realized her concern had evolved into something deeper. There was a new, nurturing instinct, but there were also strange, wonderful new feelings that had nothing to do with Kerina’s illness or her guilt at being the cause of the problem. Dennis discovered she loved to watch Kerina as he completed his recovery, and her eyes seemed to lock onto her rescuer whenever they were together. She delighted in helping him dress, and she suddenly realized she had become interested in every detail of Kerina’s form. She had no such feelings for her other patients, male or female, and the former man gradually recognized that she was falling for her patient.

It was an amazing realization, and despite the fact that Karen had warned her it could happen, Dennis was completely stunned. It required a lot of soul-searching on her part to sort things out, and she had spent many hours walking along the beach, trying to come to grips with her feelings. When she finally admitted she was in love with Kerina, she was forced to consider the consequences of that love and ask herself whether she was willing to do what would be required of her, to be the woman Kerina would need, and that was the hardest question of all.

The answer came from her heart, not her head. Reason told her it was not possible, but her emotions overrode her intellect, and Dennis discovered a new but deep-seated desire to give herself to her man, to do whatever it took, whatever he wanted, to show her devotion. She would love him, care for him and have his babies -- anything he needed -- because that was what wives did for their men.

But how did HE feel? That question was the real cause of her anxiety, and Dennis was terrified that Kerina might not feel as she did. She desperately wanted Kerina to return her affection, and everything she had done recently was to gain Kerina’s approval. She dressed to please him; she tried to be as feminine as possible, and she even begun wearing makeup to make herself look a little more beautiful, more sexy. But Dennis was frustrated by her lack of experience. She’d grown up as a male and had never learned the things that mothers teach their daughters. All she could do was watch other women and imitate their behavior, but about two-thirds of the women on New America were no more experienced than she, and many of them -- like her own father -- were making little or no effort to become more feminine. All she could do was play it by ear and try to learn how to be a woman, and wait.

When Kerina saw Dennis her masculine face broke into a wide grin. "Damn! You look great!" The former girl exclaimed. "I really like those shorts."

Dennis blushed and smiled shyly at her, though inside the former boy’s pulse was racing. "You don’t think they’re a little too revealing?" Dennis asked.

Kerina grinned. "Of course they are -- That’s why I like ‘em!" She laughed.

Dennis’ face fell and she turned around to go back inside and change, but Kerina reached out and grabbed her arm. "Hey, relax! I was just kidding you. Besides, you’ve definitely got the legs for those shorts!"

"Well, since it’s so hot, I --"

"Dennis, you don’t need an excuse. You look lovely, and you shouldn’t be afraid to wear anything," Kerina said seriously, adding: "I’m proud to be seen with such a beautiful girl as you."

That did it! Dennis turned crimson right down to her toes, and her heart beat even faster. She lowered her eyes and allowed a small smile to form on her lips, but remained silent.

"C’mon, let’s go," Kerina urged. "I thought we might get an ice cream cone," she explained as she gently guided her date towards the Community Center.

The new Community Center was several blocks away, but its three-story high profile was clearly visible between the rapidly multiplying temporary structures that had been thrown up in only 14 days. Dennis knew her mother’s crew had had a lot to do with the progress, but she could also see the results of the road crews’ efforts. The six square block central business section was completely paved, with sidewalks in most places, and the two main roads extended well past the business district. The roads were wide, and the temporary structures were set well back from the streets to allow for larger, permanent buildings later on. Most of the trees had been left standing, giving the new colony a strange, established look that reminded Dennis of several small towns she had visited back on Earth.

But New America wasn’t Earth. The vivid colors of the soil and vegetation, and the slightly different hue of the light from the sun of their adopted planet was a constant reminder that this was a new, largely unexplored world. There were other reminders too, some not so pleasant, like the nasty creature that bit Kerina. On the whole, though, New America was beautiful, and Dennis enjoyed the walk despite the heat.

The new community center was made of the same plasticrete and steel construction that the temporary structures were composed of, except it was far stronger and much larger. It was a masterpiece of modern design, and the interior could be configured in many different ways. Currently, the building was set up as basketball gym, with four separate courts on the north side taking up about two-thirds of the available floorspace. The rest of the building was divided into smaller areas containing men and women’s lockers, storage areas, a few offices, and other functions Dennis could only guess at.

Kerina found a table at the small concession area, and after she helped Dennis with her chair she went to the window and brought back two small ice cream cones.

"You know, it’s amazing," she remarked. "With all the problems we’ve had, our little band of colonists has managed not only to survive, but to find time to throw up this huge hall, not to mention the ice cream," Kerina remarked.

"Well, it’s not what it seems," Dennis replied, knowing the full story from his time on Earth. "Dad and Dan were both in on the planning, and this center was designed to protect us from severe weather. The guys just didn’t know a lot about the weather, and since we’re in a tropical setting they felt we should have a place of refuge in case of a hurricane, or something like that. Apparently, Larry -- President Taylor -- and the Assembly decided to follow through with the initial plan."

"I just met President Taylor yesterday," Kerina disclosed.

"Really? How did you two happen to meet?" Dennis asked.

"Well, I went to his office to volunteer for the Explorer program," Kerina replied.

An icy lump suddenly materialized in Dennis’ stomach when she heard Kerina mention the Explorers. The Explorer program was a long-range reconnaissance effort designed to survey the surface of New America from the ground, in a way no satellite could hope to do. The Explorer teams were equipped with special all-terrain vehicles that could surmount almost any obstacle, but the program had been put on "hold" when most of the teams wound up in unsuitable bodies. Dennis had heard a rumor that the Assembly was considering resuming the program, but she knew little else, except that the Explorer teams would be gone for weeks, or even months at a time . . .

" . . .So I volunteered for the first expedition," Kerina finished, and Dennis realized she had missed most of what her companion had said.

"Huh?"

Kerina stared at Dennis intently. "Is everything okay?" She asked her feminine companion. "You don’t look well."

"No, I -- I’m fine," Dennis managed, fighting to control her emotions with mixed success.

Kerina wasn’t convinced, but decided to let it pass.

" . . . So anyway, our first assignment is to move north, do a quick visual survey with recordings, then swing east, then south. We leave in ten days."

"Ten days!" Dennis exclaimed a little too loudly. "How long will you be gone?" He asked dejectedly.

"It’s hard to say. A month, maybe six weeks," Kerina replied, noticing that Dennis’ eyes were red and moist.

____________________

Suddenly Kerina realized what the problem was, and she kicked herself mentally for not recognizing it sooner. She’d been a complete fool not to consider Dennis’ feelings about her disappearing for weeks at a time.

Though they hadn’t so much as kissed Kerina knew Dennis had deep feelings for her, feelings which mirrored her own. But Kerina hadn’t sorted things out in her own mind, much less considered Dennis’ emotions. The former girl had been too busy enjoying her return from her near-death experience and exploring her new masculine options to dwell on their relationship. In a burst of testosterone-generated energy she had spent time working out, enjoying her body’s increasing power while she considered various "masculine" careers. When she settled on the Explorers she volunteered without a thought to how Dennis would react. In typical male fashion Kerina simply assumed that Dennis knew how she felt about her, and that the former man would understand her need to prove herself as an Explorer. And that she would be willing to wait . . .

Now she realized she had to explain things to Dennis and hope the new girl would understand. She almost laughed at that, since she didn’t completely understand either, but one look at Dennis’ somber face stopped her cold.

"Uh, Dennis, can we . . . talk?" Kerina asked hesitantly.

"I thought we were," her companion replied.

"No, I mean, somewhere else. Alone."

Dennis nodded his head, feeling a new wave of apprehension as he studied Kerina’s serious demeanor.

"C’mon," Kerina ordered as she rose to her feet and took Dennis’ arm.

Dennis allowed Kerina to lead him towards the doors, and he dumped his ice cream cone in a wastebasket as they exited the building.

Once outside Kerina headed away from the center of the colony, towards the seashore, still holding Dennis’ hand. Dennis stopped when they reached the end of the pavement and stooped down to remove her sandals. When she finished she picked them up in one hand and reached for Kerina again. A small, tepid breeze had finally begun to ameliorate the tropical heat, stirring the tall dune grass as the couple made their way between several of the smaller, foothill dunes that stood between the water and their huge, towering cousins. They walked in silence, but Dennis was content just to be near Kerina, and she didn’t dare to speak since she was afraid of what Kerina might say. Her imagination concocted several dreadful possibilities, and she tried not to think at all.

The sun was a little lower when Kerina finally found the perfect spot between two of the twelve foot high dunes, an area that was in the shade and quite isolated, but where the breeze still moved the air. When they were seated Dennis looked at her companion with a mixture of fear and expectation, and it was Kerina’s turn to feel awkward. The former girl felt as if she was in a trap of her own making, and now that it was time to discuss their relationship she temporized.

"You know, I was thinking about my name last night," she started hesitantly, "and I decided that, now that I’m a guy, ‘Kerina’ really doesn’t fit. So, I decided to change my name."

Dennis nodded. She sensed that Kerina was working up to something, so she kept her mouth shut and let her come to the point.

"Anyway, I decided to take my dad’s name -- Kenneth Charles Mills," Kerina announced. "What do you think?"

"I think your father would be very proud if he knew that," Dennis replied.

"Yeah, well, I’m gonna send him a message as soon as they allow personals to go out. He might still be alive when it gets there . . ."

"What about you?" ‘Ken’ asked after several moments of silence had passed. "Dennis really doesn’t fit anymore."

"No, it really doesn’t," the new girl agreed, "but I really haven’t given it much thought."

"How do you like ‘Denise?’ It’s a pretty name, for a pretty girl, and you wouldn’t have any trouble responding to it."

Dennis looked up at ‘Ken.’ "Do you really think I’m pretty?" She asked, needing a little reassurance.

"Dennis -- or ‘Denise’ -- I think you are very pretty," Ken replied. "But, I’m prejudiced."

"Prejudiced?"

"Yeah. I can’t be objective about the girl I love."

Dennis’ breath caught in her throat and her vision seemed to blur as she stared at ‘Ken’ open-mouthed. Those few words were exactly what she had hoped to hear and she felt ecstatic -- simply wonderful! But there were also a few things she needed to know, items they had to discuss. All she had to do was remember what they were and she and Ken could talk things out . . .

But, just as when she accepted her newfound femininity, Dennis couldn’t think straight, and it seemed even harder sitting next to the man she loved. She needed to know . . . She had to find out why, why . . . he thought she was pretty. And why his eyes were so blue! When Ken smiled down at her, she felt a tingly sensation and she was completely unaware that she was looking up at him with tears in her adoring eyes.

Ken gently stroked her hair, then held her head tenderly with both hands and leaned down and kissed her ever so lightly. The softness of his kiss ignited a fire of passion within the girl and she threw her arms around his neck and returned his kiss with all the pent up emotion in her soul. Whatever questions she had were unimportant now, and she barely noticed when he eased her down onto the sand.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Dan sat on the bed, crossed his legs and pointed his toes, then rolled the sheer taylar stocking up his newly-shaven leg. The sheer but shiny fabric was incredibly strong -- completely impervious to runs or snags -- yet it was thinner and lighter than the old-fashioned nylon women once wore. The wispy hose was far more comfortable too, especially since they were not pantyhose. But it still felt weird!

The taylar material was more breathable than the old nylon, or so Karen had told him, but it was shinier, and guaranteed to draw attention to his legs -- as if guys didn’t notice them already! Dan felt the silky fabric caress his calves and thighs as he finished with one leg and re-crossed them to don the other stocking. The soft, almost liquid sensation against his skin was very pleasant, yet oddly disturbing. He did not want to get used to the sensation, and would not be wearing them tonight if he could have possibly avoided it. Still, he had to admit they did feel nice. The lacy, scallop-trimmed stocking tops literally adhered to his legs, making garters unnecessary, and when Dan stood up he saw the stockings clung to his legs like they were painted on.

He was becoming accustomed to his new reflection, and it no longer stunned him to see a gorgeous babe in the mirror, but this would be the first time he ever wore dressy feminine clothing. The election for the new Colonial Assembly was only three days off, and Larry had scheduled a special "Meet The Candidates" night at the new Community Center. Each candidate was expected to outline his or her platform, and would be given 15 minutes to speak. Dan was thankful that it was not a true debate, and that questions would not be allowed from the floor. The candidates would be free to answer questions afterwards, if they desired, but that would be on a one-to-one basis.

Dan had no intention of answering any questions, and in fact had almost decided to skip the meeting, but he realized that he would have no chance of retaining his seat if he failed to appear. He stepped over to the closet to get the outfit he planned to wear that night, and felt the odd softness of his stockings and heard the distinctive hiss from the friction of his thighs brushing against each other as he walked. The outfit he had chosen was a cream skirt-suit, which was the only thing vaguely business-like in his wardrobe. He would have preferred a pants suit, but the young woman who once occupied his body had not seen fit to bring one, and it was either this or a dress, so Dan made the best of it and retrieved the outfit from the closet, along with the matching high heel pumps.

The skirt was a few inches above his knees, and it was tailored or fitted just enough to restrict Dan’s gait a little. Though he had carefully lowered the zipper before stepping into the skirt he had to struggle to pull it up over his pale blue panties, and it was rather snug. For a fleeting moment Dan was alarmed that his pregnancy might be starting to "show," but he quickly dismissed that. It was still far too early according to Karen, especially since it was his first child.

If Dan had his way it would also be his last -- That was one of the reasons he was running for re-election -- to repeal the "Reproductive Duties" clause of the Colonial Charter. It wasn’t the only reason, but it was rapidly becoming the most important. The problem was his position seemed to be increasingly a minority position. At first most of the colonist had favored repeal, but as time passed more and more people were siding with those who felt it was necessary to their survival, and the fact that much of the burden would now be borne by feminized men who never anticipated giving birth didn’t change that.

While the vast majority of feminized males favored the repeal most of the colonists who hadn’t changed sex wanted to keep the provision, and nearly all of the masculinized females supported the clause. Their attitude was basically unsympathetic to the new females, and they argued that, if they had been willing accept the clause the new women should too, especially since several of them had originally insisted it was crucial for the colony to thrive. Unfortunately, that was Pat’s stand on the issue, and it was one more thing that separated the two of them.

Dan sighed and walked back to the closet, feeling the skirt tighten like a rubber band around his thighs when his steps were a little too long, and he returned with a lacy, pale blue sleeveless top. It, too, was the best of a few bad options, and Dan had chosen it because it was light-weight and relatively cool, and also because the color would match and mask his coordinated pale blue bra. Though the top had a scoop neck it was one of the few blouses that didn’t put his canyon-like cleavage on display. Only a little of the deep cleft created by his magnificent breasts was visible above the top’s scalloped bodice.

The erstwhile male tried to ignore his sexy reflection and concentrate on remembering his speech as he pushed his golden hair through the neck and pulled the top down over his voluptuous breasts, but that turned out to be impossible. Though the sleeveless creation did cover most of his cleavage it clung to him nearly as tightly as his stockings, perfectly outlining his amazingly ample boobs. With an audible groan Dan forced himself to turn away and pick up his suit jacket, hoping that it, at least, would partially conceal his bustline. It didn’t. The fitted jacket had darts sewn in that allowed it to conform to the contours of his breasts and still hold close to his stomach, even without being buttoned.

Dan shrugged and sat down again to slip his small feet into the high heel pumps. That was another new experience for him, and when he stood and tried to make his way across the room he teetered on the narrow 9 centimeter heels. It wasn’t so much the height, he realized, as the tiny imprint his heels made in the carpeting. The base of the heels could not have been more than a centimeter, and he had to be careful not to twist his ankle. After a few very cautious steps he decided he could do it, he could walk in the heels -- IF he walked very slowly and was very careful. He practiced walking for several minutes, and during the course of his experimentation he discovered that it was easier if he came down toe first and kept his weight slightly back. The only problem was that it took a lot of concentration.

It didn’t help that the heels made him take even shorter, mincing steps than the skirt would allow, or that they seemed to actuate his hips and make them sway more than normal. Dan cursed, realizing that it would be a major accomplishment just to get to the Community Center without falling and killing himself, and he wondered, not for the first time, why women wore such ridiculous clothes, and whether it was worth it to put himself through all this just for the election.

Grumbling under his breath, Dan sat down in front of the mirror and attacked his hair, brushing it until it looked acceptable. He had to look good tonight, because he was campaigning against quite a few opponents, one of whom was his own wife.

Patty, or "Pat," as she preferred now, had announced her own candidacy less than a week after Larry had set the date for the election, and this was the final bone of contention between them. According to her posted platform she stood for the very thing Dan opposed with all his heart, the retention of the Biological Duties clause, and aside from that she made no attempt to hide her contempt for her husband. She ridiculed him at home, remarking that it was about time he discovered what it was like to bear a child, sounding almost as if she was enjoying his humiliation. Dan had to bite his tongue to keep from telling her that he was already pregnant, and Pat’s contemptuous attitude was the biggest reason he kept the baby a secret. He was increasingly convinced that Patty would throw him out if she found out he was carrying another man’s child.

____________________

Pat O’Shea, formerly Patricia McNeil, walked though the upper level of her newly constructed home, examining the structure for any tiny flaws she may have overlooked, but there was nothing out of place, nothing that wasn’t perfect. She smiled to herself as she descended the stairs to the lower level, a feature no other home on New America possessed. She had built this home herself, with some help from her crew of course, but she had dug the lower level, set the plasticrete foundation, supervised the work, and put a little something extra into the project. The house had over 400 square meters of floorspace, and had no less than six bedrooms, four baths, a large kitchen, a formal dining room, den, living room, a study, and a storage-utilities area. She also planned a covered entranceway to give the front a classy look, and a large rear deck off the living room, but those would have to wait for a while.

Yes, Pat was proud of her work, and proud of overcoming all of the difficulties created by the failure of the routing program, which placed her in her male body. Despite her very feminine upbringing she had excelled to the point that she was a crew leader, a leader of other men, and head of the most efficient construction crew in the colony. Her crew had erected 20 % more buildings than any other, and Larry had just promoted her to Director of Construction, one of the titles her husband was to have assumed. Pat thought that was particularly ironic, since her spouse had utterly failed to adjust to the new reality. He didn’t have the courage to face life without his balls, and he’d become just another bitchy broad, whining, crying and complaining about everything she did.

Pat was ashamed of Dan, and that was why she had abandoned her married name and re-registered under her maiden name. Besides, she reasoned, SHE was the man now, why should she carry another guy’s name -- a guy that didn’t even exist anymore? She shook her head and wondered how she could have ever looked up to Dan, as she did her whole life. He was terrified of his own shadow, and even afraid of her, but what scared him the most was the thought of getting pregnant.

She chuckled at that, and imagined what he would look like with his belly distended, ripe with child. It was bound to happen, she knew, and she would do her best to make it a reality when she was elected to the Assembly. She, and the others who favored retaining the Biological Duties clause of the Colonial Charter were in the majority, and Dan’s pathetic efforts to save himself from his new responsibilities were doomed. He might be living in a dream world, but she was out and about every day, talking with people while he changed diapers and baby-sat. She had lobbied and campaigned while he did nothing but hope, and she knew she would win.

But she would not be the one to impregnate Dan. Pat had already decided that as soon as the election was over she would drop him. He was too much of a pain in the ass, and besides, there were a lot of cute chicks to choose from. Maybe they weren’t as devastatingly gorgeous as her former husband, but Pat figured they were cute enough, and she would have a lot of fun "interviewing" for a wife. Once she was elected she would be one of the most eligible bachelors in the colony. The chicks would fall over themselves vying for her attention.

Pat glanced around the lower level of her new home and noticed how bare it looked. There was no furniture, and there were no curtains or drapes on the windows. She had already arranged to do a little bartering with a guy who made tables and chairs, but she decided to leave the window dressings to her new wife. She didn’t have time for such things now. Besides, that was women’s work.

____________________

Karen found a seat in the main room of the Community Center and glanced through the program she was handed as she entered. She did not bother counting the candidates -- there were a lot of them -- but she noticed that both Dan and Pat were slated to speak right before the first twenty minute break. Somehow Dan and Pat had managed to draw back-to-back slots, with Dan going first. Now that would be interesting.

She also noticed that Pat was using her maiden name, and wondered what that was all about. From her conversations with Dennis -- Denise, she corrected herself -- she knew things weren’t going well between the couple, but she was hoping they could work out their differences.

The hall was filling rapidly, and it was soon obvious that virtually every adult in the colony that wasn’t on duty was present. This included a fair number of teenagers, though Karen had to remind herself that many of these "teens" were actually older than they now appeared. At any rate, the large crowd would not help Dan’s composure. She had met the new woman on the way over, struggling along in high heels, and Karen could not help but notice the nervousness in Dan’s face.

He had done a credible job of dressing, and his hair looked decent, but he was wearing no makeup at all, and not one piece of jewelry. Karen had talked to her friend as they made their way to the Center and she explained the importance of makeup to a woman. Dan had nodded at everything she said, but it was clear he was distracted by his upcoming speech, so Karen took Dan to the ladies room when they arrived and gave his face a touch of color. She used just a bit of blush on his cheeks, and added a bit of lipstick. There really wasn’t time for more than that, and Dan was too nervous to sit still for a full makeover anyway. But, just as they were leaving the room, Karen removed a small brooch she was wearing and pinned it to the lapel of Dan’s jacket, telling him it was "For good luck."

The program started right on time, surprisingly enough, with President Taylor as the moderator. Karen thought he was a logical choice since he was a cinch to be re-elected, and had declined to speak himself. After the third speaker she was glad the room was air conditioned. It was very crowded, and there was nothing but hot air coming from the podium.

Finally, it was Dan’s turn to speak and the former man rose cautiously from his seat in the semi-circle of candidates seated behind the podium and made his way tentatively to the microphone. He was visibly nervous and a little shaky in his high heel pumps, but Karen gave him a lot of credit for even coming. He was the only male-to-female candidate, and from talking to him in the restroom Karen knew he had never worn a skirt or heels anywhere before, much less before a crowd like this.

Unfortunately, Dan’s speech was weak and tentative, and not very convincing. After outlining his training and accomplishments, which included his work on the master plan the colonists had adopted on Earth, he outlined his platform. On the subject of Reproductive Duties, which everyone knew was the key issue in the election, Dan argued that the Charter was never meant to cover the situation that existed on New America because nothing like this had ever happened before. The failure of the routing program was an unprecedented event, but that did not mean they faced extinction. Dan believed there were enough of the "original" females in the colony who would willingly bear children that, combined with any male-to-female transforms that wished to volunteer to have babies, plus the existing children, the colony would survive -- At least until help could arrive from Earth.

Karen thought it was a decent argument, but not compelling. It was the sort of speech that would earn a B- in a high school debate, but not one that would win a lot of converts in a colony stuck on an alien planet with help still years away. Her opinion was validated when Dan concluded his presentation and it was met by nothing more than a scattered, polite applause -- Not something to warm the heart of a politician. Clearly, he had failed to win his point.

Pat spoke next, shooting a sarcastic grin at Dan as they passed each other. She was far taller and a lot more imposing than Dan, and when she stepped confidently to the podium she made a show of adjusting the microphone upwards and gripping the lectern with both hands. She paused for a moment as she surveyed the crowd with a confident, almost cocky demeanor. As Karen watched she realized that Pat’s recent work had forced her to interact with people to a degree she never had before, and that she was much more self-assured than she had been as a woman. In fact, there was no comparison between the person who stood tall at the podium and the wife and mother Karen had known back on Earth.

"My esteemed opponents," she began, nodding towards the semi-circle of hopefuls behind her, "have each begun by outlining their qualifications, and I will do the same.

"But before I do, I would like to make one comment: Whatever my opponents may have done before their arrival on New America is irrelevant, and some of those ‘qualifications’ are very suspect. For instance, one speaker talked about her involvement in the master plan to build our colony. Well, that plan was a dismal failure. It did not survive the first day on New America because it was too short-sighted to take into consideration a system failure or any other major problem. Ultimately, the plan was worthless, and it is only through the efforts of people such as myself, who stepped forward and actually built what we now have, that we have survived to this point.

"I will leave it to you to decide whether people of such ‘accomplishment’ are worthy of another chance, and whether you want to take the risk that they might produce similar ‘accomplishments’ in the future . . ."

Karen was stunned by Pat’s diatribe. The voice that boomed from the podium oozed sarcasm, and only an idiot could possibly miss the fact that she was referring to her own spouse. It was a vicious attack that was completely unwarranted and far beyond the boundary of fair comment, as far as Karen was concerned. How could anyone have possibly anticipated a complete failure in the routing program? How could any plan survive such a unique catastrophe? Even so, Karen knew for a fact that Larry WAS using the original plan as an outline to work from, and to the extent the colonists were still capable of executing it, it was working fine. What the hell was going on here? Karen glanced at Dan and saw a look of pure shock on his beet-red face, and she wondered if he would ever have the nerve to show his face in public again.

" . . . But the real issue is whether we should drop the Reproductive Duties clause from the Charter, and to that proposal I say No! The Charter provision was put there for a reason, and we cannot gamble the future of this colony on a risky scheme that may or may not work.

"Our future and our children’s’ future is at stake, and I, for one, will not jeopardize that future just because some of us . . . "

Here Pat paused and turned to face Dan directly.

" . . .lack the courage to do what it takes to assure our survival.

Karen was completely appalled by what she heard, and when she again glanced at Dan she saw his head down, and thought he was actually crying. Pat actually made Dan the butt of a joke that drew a round of snickers from the crowd, and when she finished she received a good round of applause and waved to the crowd before returning to her seat. She looked down at her spouse contemptuously as she took her seat, but Dan did not see her smug expression. He hadn’t glanced up since Pat’s opening salvo, and when a subdued Larry Taylor announced the twenty minute break Dan rose and left the room. Karen got up and followed him out the door. Though he had a significant head start on her he was easy to catch in his high heels.

Karen was nurse -- a damned good one too -- and her first instinct was to heal. She put her hand on the smaller woman’s shoulder, and when Dan turned to face her Karen saw that there were, indeed, tears in his eyes. She hugged him tightly to herself and held him as the real tears began. Dan’s entire body shook as he sobbed, and for a moment Karen was afraid she would need help to get him home, but after a minute he cried himself out and she led her friend over to a bench and sat him down.

"Why, Karen?" Dan sniffed, still racked by an occasional sob that caused his whole body to convulse. "Why did she say those things about me?"

"I don’t know," Karen admitted, her sympathy for Dan turning into a fiery anger towards Pat.

"Wh-what did I d-do to her?"

"Nothing Dan," Karen replied, stroking his hair. "You didn’t do anything to deserve that, regardless of what might be between you two. I know you well enough to know you’ve never been cruel to her."

"There m-must be a reason!" Dan exclaimed, getting exited again.

"No there doesn’t," Karen disagreed. "People treat each other like dirt all the time, and most of the time there is no reason, or excuse, for what they do. The real question is what has happened to Pat. C’mon, let’s get you home. We can talk more there, in private.

____________________

Karen left Dan’s place an hour and a half later. She had spent the entire time getting her friend calmed down, washing off his smudged makeup, and putting him to bed, and now she herself needed to climb under the covers. On her way back to her own place she stopped to rest and after a minute she realized it was the very place she had first encountered Dan after their arrival on New America. He’d been sick at the time, and she had helped him get back to Area 5. Neither of them had known at the time that the queasy feeling Dan was experiencing was actually morning sickness, and Karen had been as shocked as her friend when she learned he was pregnant. Dan had managed to deal with the shocking revelation about as well as anyone in his situation could handle such news, but tonight was even worse. He had been publicly betrayed and humiliated by his former wife, and Karen just hoped the experience wouldn’t leave permanent scars.

As Karen stood up to finish her trek she was surprised to see Pat coming towards her. He was with several admirers, and they were laughing and joking as they walked. She recognized a couple of Pat’s companions as part of her construction crew.

"Hi Karen. Long time no see." Pat called out as the group approached. "Did you go to the meeting tonight?"

"Oh, I was there. That was some performance you put on," the nurse replied angrily.

"What’s the matter? Don’t tell me you’re one of the ones who want to dump the reproductive duties clause," Pat replied, somewhat taken aback by Karen’s attitude.

"No, I wasn’t referring to that. I was talking about what you did to Dan."

Pat shrugged. "He’s living in the past. He’s not the dominant male anymore, but he’s a damned coward who hasn’t got the guts to face life as a woman -- and he’s also been a damned pain in the ass ever since we got here."

"Well, I hope you’re happy. Do you feel like a ‘real’ man, now that you’ve disgraced the one person who loved and cared for you for over 20 years? Let me tell you something. You literally destroyed your spouse tonight! You publicly humiliated a decent human being whose only offense was his inability to cope with the incredibly bizarre changes we suffered. I just spent the last two hours with Dan, and I’m not sure he’ll ever be the same again. He’s going to need a lot of love and understanding, and the last thing he needs right now is a dose of your pompous, self-righteousness! At least have the decency to leave him alone."

Pat was stunned and embarrassed by Karen’s outburst, and responded defensively. "He’s weak. He’s got to learn that things are different now. He’s can’t face the fact that he’s a woman now, and he’s gonna have to have children."

Karen looked at her former friend with venomous eyes. "Has it really been that long that you’ve forgotten your own past, or did you just lose your humanity in the body-swap? I seem to remember a woman I knew back on Earth, crying over having to leave. This woman was bawling so bad she had to leave the room. Remember her?"

"That was different," Pat replied lamely.

"Oh, really?" Karen exclaimed. "She was a full-grown woman, with a family of her own, yet she couldn’t stand the thought of leaving her parents, and if it wasn’t for her kind and loving husband she would have had a nervous breakdown! She barely made it, and she had the support of her whole family! But Dan never had that -- His ‘spouse’ decided he wasn’t strong enough, so she disgraced him and belittled his accomplishments in front of the entire colony -- for all practical purposes, the whole world!

"And another thing," Karen added, just warming up. "You say that Dan can’t face the fact that he might have to have children, but he’s faced up to it a lot better than you could imagine. I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone, but this has gone far enough and you’re a big enough ass that you’ll keep shooting off your mouth unless I tell you.

"Dan is pregnant, and has been since he awoke in that body. He was pregnant before he was even conscious, and he’s endured pelvic exams, morning sickness, and everything else that goes along with being pregnant, but you’ve been too self-absorbed to notice or pay attention to his needs. And don’t give me that crap about how you had three of your own, either. You had a lifetime to prepare for motherhood, and you had a loving, caring husband to support you. Dan has had none of that, and I’m surprised he hasn’t gone completely crazy.

"So, go on -- go celebrate. You’re going to win easily after what you did to Dan tonight. But at least have the decency to leave him alone. He doesn’t need to see your face anymore tonight!"

When Karen finished there was absolute silence. Pat was completely cowed and did not know how to respond, and her friends were obviously embarrassed. They hung back and looked at each other, wishing they were somewhere else. It was amazing how quickly their mood had changed. Finally Pat replied in a subdued voice.

"I, ah, I’ll stay at the new place tonight," she announced.

"You do that," Karen replied, her voice and posture still defiant.

____________________

During the night Dan miscarried. When Denise got him to the hospital he was examined and treated, and there was no permanent damage, but the baby he had promised to care for was gone and Dan was inconsolable. Though it really wasn’t "his" baby, and he had been terrified of his pregnancy, he felt a strange, terrible sense of loss, and he cried constantly. Dr. Sharon Willis’ diagnosis was a spontaneous miscarriage due to stress, and Dr. Allen Goethe was called in to deal with Dan’s psychological trauma.

During the next few days Karen and Denise spent as much time as possible with the former man, helping him come to terms with his loss. Linda also tried to help as much as she could, but Dan felt that he was somehow to blame. He seemed to think he was inadequate as a woman, and that he should not have run for the Assembly while he was pregnant. Even Dr. Goethe could not shake that belief, and he was very concerned about his patient’s mental health.

Dan recovered physically after a couple of days, but Dr. Goethe felt he was too emotionally unstable to return home for some time, so he kept his patient in the hospital for several more days with various excuses. In the meantime he continued to see Dan at least twice a day, and he continued prescribing anti-depressants. But Dan continued to insist that he was to blame for the miscarriage. He was convinced that the miscarriage had been caused by his inability to accept his new, feminine body, and that if it wasn’t for his cowardice his baby would still be alive.

Meanwhile, the election was held and Pat not only won, but also received the second highest vote total, which meant she would be the new Vice-president and Speaker of the Colonial Assembly. However, word of Dan’s miscarriage and the confrontation with Karen gradually spread and Pat’s popularity suffered somewhat. It was nothing she couldn’t overcome, given time, but she was forced to take a low profile for the time being, and the decision on whether to retain the Reproductive Duties clause was put on hold.

When Dr. Goethe realized that there was nothing he could do to change Dan’s belief he decided to take a different approach. He wasn’t concerned with assigning "blame" for the miscarriage, so he decided to use Dan’s guilt to goad him into rehabilitating himself. After he had a long talk with Dan he made a change in the ex-male’s prescription, then he discussed his plan with Karen and Denise in private.

When Dan awoke the next morning he was surprised to see Karen, Linda, and Denise all sitting near his bed. "Hi. What’s going on?" He asked.

"Good morning! Dr. Goethe says it’s time for you to get out of here -- He’s tired of looking at you," Karen greeted her patient, smiling as she stood.

"I don’t want to leave. Leave me alone," Dan replied morosely.

"Sorry. Doctor’s orders. You’re going home today," Karen responded firmly. "Now, get up so we can get you ready."

"I can’t," Dan told them.

"Can’t? Why not?" Karen asked.

"Because . . . because I’m the laughingstock of the entire colony. I -- I can’t go out there, in public," Dan practically sobbed.

"You can’t let what she said affect you. You have to get on with your life," Karen told her patient.

"What life?" Dan asked bitterly. "She took the only thing I had left -- my good name -- and destroyed it! I have no life now."

"You will if you show everyone that what she said was a complete lie," Karen replied.

"As if anyone would listen to me now," Dan muttered.

They won’t have to listen, they’ll be able to see it was all a lie by the way you react."

But Dan just rolled over and refused to face them or talk anymore. Finally Karen sighed and turned to Denise and Linda. "Let’s go girls. I guess Pat was right after all. He just doesn’t have the courage to face facts."

"I am not a coward!" Dan sobbed as the others turned to leave.

"Then prove it!" Karen said sternly.

"How?" Dan asked her with a helpless note in his voice.

"By showing everyone you have the guts to accept what you are, what you’ve become! By having the courage to surrender to reality and deal with life as a woman!" Karen replied heatedly, adding: "You’re convinced you lost the baby because you couldn’t accept the fact that you’re female now. That’s a load of bull, but if that’s how you really feel then get up off your butt and start trying!"

Denise and Linda stood there with mouths agape. They had never heard anyone speak like that to their father, even since he landed in his current body. They both thought Dan would tell Karen to go to hell, but to their surprise he sat up and stared at Karen for several seconds, then replied:

"You’re right," Dan sighed, keeping his eyes lowered. "I just don’t know if I can."

"Don’t worry -- You can -- And we’re going to help, aren’t we girls?"

"Sure we will da- er, what do I call you? ‘Dad’ just doesn’t seem right," Denise quipped.

Dan looked perplexed, so Karen took charge. "How about Danielle?" She suggested. "How does that sound to you?"

He shrugged. "I guess it’s okay," he responded without much enthusiasm.

"Well, if you think of something better let us know, but for now you’re ‘Danielle,’" Karen pronounced. "Now, let’s get going. The first thing you need to do is take a shower."

____________________

Dan stepped out of the shower and found Karen leaning against the wall, holding two large, fluffy towels. She regarded him with a mixture of concern and amusement as she handed him one of the towels.

"Danielle, you are absolutely drop-dead gorgeous, and I’m jealous as hell," she remarked. "Now let’s get started on your new look."

"New look? Who said anything about a new look?" Dan asked as he patted himself dry.

"Me," Karen answered. "Except for the night of the speech you’ve been doing your best to look unattractive and dumpy -- not that you could with that body -- but every time I drop Jeff off or pick him up you’re dressed in mis-matched clothes, and you’ve been walking hunched over to hide your boobs. That is over, as of now. You’re going to learn how to dress and use makeup, and you’re walk tall and proud, and put the lie to everything Pat said about you."

"I refuse to walk around half-naked and shake my . . ."

"Don’t be absurd. We’re going to make a lady out of you, not a hooker! Those are your daughters out there, and they don’t want a streetwalker for a parent. However, doll, you have to remember that you are a 20 year old girl now, not a middle-aged male engineer, and this is a warm climate. You can’t dress like the old guy that got on the ship back on Earth, and some of the things you’ll be wearing will seem rather . . . brief, but we will not ask you to wear anything that is inappropriate. Understand?"

"Danielle" nodded.

"Good. Now feminine lesson number one -- Watch how I wrap this towel around your hair."

Karen proceeded to make a turban out of the towel she was holding, after which she showed "Danielle" how to wrap the other towel around herself and tuck the end in under her arm. Then she pointed to a pair of low slippers, and after her charge slipped her feet into them they went back to the empty ward.

Denise had made Danielle’s bed in a crisp, hospital style while her parent was showering, and Linda had retrieved a complete outfit from "Danielle’s" closet at their residence. When the beautiful woman emerged she found her two daughters talking quietly, and an outfit laid out on the bed. It consisted of a pair of stylish white shorts, a sleeveless, red and white print top with a scoop neck and a low back, a pair of white, strappy sandals with about two-inch heels, and a small, tan shoulder bag. Lying next to the top was a silky, red bra and panty set.

Danielle scanned the items lying on her bed, but didn’t cringe -- she had expected much worse after Karen’s little talk -- and she allowed her daughters to help her dress. The only problems she had were with the bra and the top. The silky red bra was one of the ones she hadn’t worn yet, and she discovered that it really lifted her breasts and held them out for inspection. Even after she had struggled into the top she thought she was showing entirely too much cleavage, though all the other girls assured her it was normal. The top itself was too tight, she thought, and it didn’t quite cover her navel, but she had seen the style and knew the others wouldn’t listen to her complaints, so she kept her mouth shut.

The shorts were very short, and tight, but Denise was wearing a pair that were practically identical, and Danielle figured if her former son could wear them she could too. Besides, it would be tacky to criticize the selection when her child was wearing the same thing.

After she slipped the sandals on her feet and tightened the straps Danielle figured she could just dry her hair and go, but the "girls" had other plans. While Linda worked on her hair, Denise took one of her hands and began giving her a manicure. Meanwhile, Karen sat down facing her, armed with a makeup kit, and proceeded to give her an entire makeover.

Karen demanded Danielle’s full attention, and she explained everything as she went, handing the former male a mirror so she could follow along and see how everything fit together. Meanwhile Linda made approving comments on her hair and offered an occasional suggestion on how to care for it. Danielle nodded her understanding whenever Linda or Karen gave her another tip, but she was certain she wouldn’t remember half of what they told her.

The girls interspersed a little gossip and news with their beauty tips, and Danielle learned that school would be starting soon for the kids. Linda told her that most of her friends were actually looking forward to it, which surprised Danielle until her daughter explained that many of them had been put to work on vital projects for the colony. Thankfully, most of those items were done, and school didn’t sound too bad to those who had sweated to build roads and houses in the hot sun. Danielle had been so wrapped up in her own problems since their arrival on New America that she hadn’t considered what the kids were going through. In addition to experiencing a body transfer, many of them had been forced to do work that should have been done by adults -- like herself. At that moment she realized it was time to stop feeling sorry for herself and start making the best of things.

When the girls finished with her Danielle stood up and looked down at herself. Her outfit was completely out of place for a middle-aged man, but perfect for a twenty year old girl. Her top clung to her curves, and her bare navel and partially exposed cleavage were downright sexy, as were her long, shapely legs and wonderfully rounded bottom. The idea of going out in public like that scared the hell out of her, but she was determined to do it. If everyone else in the colony could adapt to a new life so could she, and she was going to it to prove herself. She would need a lot of help at first, but she knew she could rely on Karen and her own daughters. She held the mirror up one last time and stared at the gorgeous chick that gazed back at her.

After a moment she set the mirror down and faced the others, who were all looking at her, and asked, "Okay, what’s next?"

To be continued . . .

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