3 sum, p.8
3 SUM, page 8
I pulled up the blankets, plumped up the pillows, and opened the dossier on the prof.
What I read was a transcript copy. Dorian had recorded a secret conversation between the prof and one General Rolliet, about me.
I’d always been an experiment, insurance for times of war. I’d been chosen at birth by Cygnus not to have the hormone exchange and reversal serum, HERS. So that’s why I’d always felt so damn different; I was. I wasn’t the only one, or the first, but those ahead of me had placed themselves in jeopardy and died. The colonel in charge, Swayne Eve, was fired, literally by the firing squad.
Vespertina was determined I would fail too, die miserably, and deliver final proof to the Council, if any were needed, that men were completely, utterly, useless. The Femocracy could never win the war by conventional means. If you called Brigades of manic depressed, obsessional, schizophrenic crossdressers conventional.
They suspected Vespertina would go nuclear, sooner rather than later, and take the world with her. My whole body was shaking, valiant or not, they were plotting a coup to topple the witch.
I couldn’t sleep; shame, it was perfect practice for the great oblivion, unless there really was a spiritual realm overseen by Mother Nature. Naturally the men would still be second class to the ruling class of women.
Chapter Sixteen
I felt like we were going on holiday, albeit a working one. We were together and uninterrupted, at least for a moment. Anais had returned and our bags were packed. I shut the door on my University room for what I guessed was the last time. In a way I’d miss the place. I had fond memories.
“May I,” said the voice, and he proceeded to pick up our suitcases. It was the prof.
“Let the shemales do that, Cygnus,” said Anais.
“You’re right,” he relinquished. “Too old in the tooth, sorry, un-young.”
“Come to see us off, Prof?” I asked.
“Even better, I’m coming along.”
I sighed. I could see my precious time with Anais eroded.
In an hour we were over the Chanel, and only Mother Nature knew what awaited me when we landed. Anais was tight-lipped, and the Prof tapped the side of his nose when questioned. The shemales at the back of the plane just grimaced, apart from Andrea; we’d struck up a kind of friendship. She used to be a plumber, but like so many shemales had swapped sex for sex.
At least Anais sat next to me, and when no one was looking I brushed her hand with mine. She was back in uniform, aloof and ice-cold to the outside world, but hot as a hell underneath. I could feel her pulse, blood like steam from the shower we’d quickly shared before any shemale got too suspicious.
The plane descended steeply. Anais had warned me, but I still felt sick. We were escorted from the runway by an armed guard of tranny air-force cadets. I wondered if they could sense the masculinity in my swagger, or considered me another hopeless case for the front.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be in touch,” said Anais.
Before I could answer, she had hopped into a jeep and was heading for one of the tunnels burrowed into the mountainside.
Cygnus tugged my sleeve. “It’ll all be OK tomorrow,” he said.
“Meaning?” I asked.
“You’ll see,” was all I got out of the un-young fool.
The warmth I once felt was quickly dissipating. Although, apart from Anais, he was my only friend. OK, make that acquaintance, and only if not counting Andrea. Then again, just how far could I trust a shemale; especially one that was always looking me up and down? I had Steve 873 for that, but he was miles away.
I saw my reflection in the lift. Clothes make the woman they say. Now they were making a man, me. I was still getting used to them: trousers minus pleats, shirts without the frills, and a bomber jacket. I felt taller without my high heels, and more confident without foundation. I was trying to remember what I used to look like, how I sounded, thought. If I saw that same guy today, I’d probably knock him out.
“This is where we part company,” said the prof at my door. “I shall see you in the morning. Be up bright and early.”
I nodded, there was no problem with that; I had a certain vigour in the morning these days.
“You going to tell me why?” I asked, turning the handle. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He sighed, and looked down. It didn’t look good, and it was about to sound much worse.
“The program you’re on, Valiant. The intention has always been to make a man hard without getting him hard.”
“Well one out of two isn’t so bad,” I said, smiling. I half expected what was coming next.
“I have a little medicine to correct that anomaly.”
I didn’t want to hear anymore. “You’d better go,” I said. “See you later.”
An impatient shemale pushed open my door, and I slammed it shut.
They wanted me to risk my life without giving me one, neutered once more. The only body fluid I was allowed to spill was my blood, unless I donated at the Bank. I picked up the lamp, about to throw it at the wall, before sitting down at the desk, head in hands. What on earth was I going to do? I wasn’t in the mood to play ball. I looked up at the ceiling; there was no attempt to hide the camera.
Chapter Seventeen
I should have unpacked last night, but I had no energy. Besides, the wardrobe was full of all my new clothes: camouflage trousers and jackets with a green vest and socks, brown leather army boots too, with no fur trim. I tried them on; they were clothes to die for.
“I’m surprised,” said Cygnus, “you’re up.”
“Why don’t you just walk right in,” I said.
“I’m sorry, I should have knocked.”
“Coffee?” I asked.
“Black,” he replied, “and two toast.”
“I don’t see the ...”
“It’s under the sink; the bread is in the freezer.”
We sat down.
“Valiant, you gave me a sleepless night.”
“Why?” I asked, disappointed. Was everyone gay?
“In hindsight, the antidote to your lust seems,” he paused and sipped his coffee, “unproductive.”
He pushed the burnt toast away, and I looked up at the camera. He had my attention, but did he have anyone else’s?
“Oh don’t worry,” he said. “They can’t hear us.”
“You want to reward me?”
“No, that’s a decision for Anais. I think it will compromise your natural aggression.”
We folded our arms simultaneously. If he had a problem, I didn’t; when I had no problems, he did.
Professor Cygnus was losing his golden touch. He wore a green lab coat, but was recognised by the endless figures of armed guards. How many experiments had he brought here before? How many just like me? I didn’t have to wait long before I got my answer.
We followed the signs to the ‘Shooting Range.’
“Don’t talk too loud,” said Cygnus. “I have a confession to make.”
“Let me guess, I’m not the first.”
“Of course, Dorian had your file,” he said.
“You mean Burdizzo,” I said.
I got the impression it had all been a game to keep an un-young man entertained.
“MAD, Tilda’s, was a test of your cunning. Dorian was an examination in courage. You passed with flying colours,” he said.
“And the others?” I asked.
“I either removed them from the program, or Burdizzo did. Vespertina would only accept the very best. It took longer than I expected. Colonel Swayne Eve was an unforeseen casualty.”
There was no sense of regret, no guilt.
“Danny 55, my college friend?” I used the term friend loosely.
“He’s a natural, isn’t he? Rebellious enough to convince others, smart enough to hand them in. He’s on the Council’s payroll.”
“Did you know Dorian 3309 was watching you?”
At last the smug smile disappeared. He’d been my saviour, but he wasn’t a god, more like a devil.
“How can you be certain?” he asked, mopping his brow.
Two trannies saluted at the entrance to the range. Cygnus pointed at one of their chests, “Button up.”
The tranny quickly fastened his bright orange tunic.
“Dorian had a transcript of you, General Rolliet, and the coup.”
“Oh dear, then I really haven’t got long left. Look, you’re here for the day, I need to go.”
“I’ll see you again?”
“Unless Vespertina has shot me.”
“You and me.”
He feigned surprise, before a half smile of acknowledgement.
“She does want me to fail and die?” I asked.
He nodded before turning and leaving.
Vespertina was my main thought as the instructor gave me a crash course in firing a handgun and rifle.
There were two more days of training, and 48 hours of Prof looking over his shoulder. After hand to hand combat, bayonet training, and grenade throwing, I was no longer feeling the rookie. Everyone told me the front was different, that some men froze. What I couldn’t tell them was that I was a real man, and that real men had fire in their bellies, not ice.
Chapter Eighteen
I hadn’t burnt the toast this morning, and there was an envelope pushed under my door.
‘Dear Valiant 01,
After delivering this letter I have taken poison. I’m not one for torture. General Rolliet will be hanged in secret later today, and then posthumously declared a war hero. Vespertina will have you and Anais arrested for her murder, and then shot as traitors.
It’s your life, but may I make a suggestion? Head for the front, there will be a bombing raid tonight; use it to escape to the other side.
Queensy Sevastopol has evidence of Vespertina’s intent to go nuclear. If you want to save the planet and Anais, take it to the Council. Queensy is expecting you.’
Cygnus.’
It wasn’t in the morning papers but it was headlines, for all the wrong reasons. If I could trust the prof, and make that a big if after his previous tests, I was getting seriously pissed with people wanting to kill me.
I’d been waiting for nearly an hour, pacing the floor, when someone knocked on my door. If it was the firing squad, they were awfully polite. It was Anais, wearing camouflage fatigues. She had a pistol at her belt, and looked like one of the regulars apart from the pips on her shoulders.
“Morning soldier,” she said, and I saluted. “Follow me.”
Some guy hanging out of a jeep gave a banned wolf whistle.
“You’re popular,” I said to Anais, hoping for an opportunity to discuss her beauty.
“He’s in the Gay Brigade; he likes you.”
“Aren’t most of the soldiers gay?” I asked.
“Most are medicated. He’s genuinely gay. Think of him as less competition, soldier.”
“Soldier? I haven’t finished training and passed out.”
“No, but you’re more loaded than an entire Brigade. The prof, Mother Nature rest his soul, had no doubts in your abilities.”
“Rest his soul?”
“Sorry, I thought you’d heard. He died of a heart attack last night, in his sleep.”
I bit my lip.
We came out in a cave, and I was surprised to see a train.
“A maglev,” said Anais. “It’s a four hour ride to the front line, one hell of a tunnel.”
“Was this your idea or the prof’s?”
“The tunnel?”
“The front line.”
“He sent me an email last night; thought it would help if you saw a little action, before we throw you in the deep end.”
Too late, I was already swimming with sharks. It was 9 a.m. and the Military Police, wearing red caps and trousers, were making me nervous. I grabbed Anais’ hand and we jumped on the train before anyone could check our papers. The corridors were crammed with soldiers and I pushed our way through. I locked us in the toilet.
As we pushed down the window, I could see the MPs quarrelling on the platform. It was something or nothing, but it could be a warning that time was short, our time. Anais was still doing up her hair.
“You took me by surprise,” she said, and I had.
Her rank got us two seats in a carriage full of schizophrenics. Good choice; they were too busy hearing their own voices to pay any attention to ours.
“I have another surprise,” I said handing her the letter. “It was pushed under my door this morning.”
Her face became ashen.
“Who’s Queensy?” I asked.
“There was a rumour Vespertina’s chef, Queensy Sevastopol, had defected from an international cooking convention in Switzerland. Maybe she took some insurance with her.”
Another train whizzed by, heading in the opposite direction, back home to safety and medals for the fallen. The only time a male was honoured was when he was safely underground. Dead heroes were honoured with their names on a plaque in the rose garden at Rinse Gardens.
There was one hour left to the front; we put on our helmets.
“I’d never had guessed the battle was so close,” I said. “No supply lines.”
“A lot of the war effort is secret,” said Anais. “You should know; it’s all need to know.”
It was a world away from my warm scented bath, fluffy dressing gown, and hot chocolate.
We stood in the corridor sandwiched between two hypochondriacs. They were popping pills, spilling syrups, and taking each other’s blood pressure.
The platform at the end of the line was chaos. The MPs were blowing whistles constantly, and the soldiers were running around attaching themselves to various units before marching off.
“Follow me,” said Anais.
I could see the top of the prof’s letter sticking out of her breast pocket.
“Colonel Rea, how are you?” she asked.
“Ready for action.”
“Let’s give them hell,” I said.
The Colonel stared me down; I’d been too cocky.
“Forgive him,” said Anais on my behalf. “And how is General Rolliet these days?”
“Mother Nature! Anais you haven’t heard, she’s in surgery.”
“A heart attack?” asked Anais.
“Worse, a bomb, sabotage.”
“But who?”
“The Military Police have a list of suspects. I hope you’re not on it, Colonel,” joked Rea.
Anais gulped, and I tugged her sleeve.
Colonel Rea was making prolonged eye contact. Did she want to hit me, or was she hitting on me?
“This one looks a little different, Colonel,” she said.
“A prototype, don’t worry he’s under my control.”
“So this is the new man we keep hearing about. Well let’s not forget why we’re fighting this war: for women’s freedom everywhere, and liberation from apes like him.”
She turned her back on us, and calmly went on her way.
“You believe it now?” I asked Anais as tenderly as I could, but just how much could you soften the blow? We were being hunted by our own side.
“I won’t believe it, Valiant, I just won’t,” she said.
Had I just heard the first note of vulnerability in her voice? I wanted to hold her in my arms, if she’d let me, but we were in the wrong place, wrong time.
A gang of eight men shuffled by in leg-irons. Each had his hands on the shoulders of the man in front of him.
“Prisoners?” I asked Anais.
“Self-harmers, but don’t worry; they’ll have no need for DIY where they’re going.”
“And where am I going?”
“With me, to the Grandiose Ideas Brigade.”
“Isn’t that risky? I mean for you.”
“Their ideas don’t run to women, but they do think they’re invincible; destined to annihilate the enemy, covered in glory and citations.”
They’d never make it back on the street. Like all the grunts, this was a one-way ticket to the compost heap, sooner or later. There would be no male parades nor ticker-tape in a Femocracy, even with the women taking all the salutes.
“Risk takers,” I suggested.
“Sure, but I could have sent you to the Depressed Brigade. Now, those guys are dying to die. Besides have you never heard that fortune favours the brave?”
“OK, I’m in,” I pretended as if I had a choice. “I guess we can always fall back if we get outgunned or outnumbered.”
Anais smiled and shook her head.
“Withdrawal is not an option this time,” she said.
“The blockers.”
“We only use the bipolar; they have no problem firing on their own men. Guess they’re either too depressed to care, or too elated to bother.”
“Anything else I should know?”
“I’ve seconded a couple of my best machine gunners to your unit. You’re a valuable asset Valiant, or soon will be.”
“So you don’t believe the prof’s goodbye letter?”
“A test, another hoax,” she said. “If it was him.”
“And General Rolliet?”
“Coincidence.”
Now where was women’s intuition when you needed it most?
“How long are you hanging around?” I asked her, and instantly regretted using the word ‘hanging’.
“Until I’ve seen enough. Don’t worry, I’ll be safe. I’m under orders. Can’t risk a colonel falling into the hands of the Undiagnosed. Although, I do have this.”
