by Darrell Bain
"Doctor, let the doctor through!" someone shouted.
A lane parted as spectators shoved away overturned chairs. Old Doc Tyson, who ran the local clinic, ran down the lane. Russell almost slugged him, too, before he saw who it was.
Tyson bent over Seyla's body. Blood was still pouring from her mouth and nostrils. She was already turning white.
"I can't save her," Tyson said after taking one look. "It's in her heart. She'll never make it to the hospital." Nevertheless, he bent over her, yanked the knife loose and gathered folds of her blouse to try to staunch the bleeding.
I heard his words hit and surround me as if I were the only person present. I felt gorge rise in my stomach. Seyla retched and more blood poured out of her mouth. I looked up in anguish, not being able to stand the sight. The glittering green facade of the gate came into my vision, no more than two hundred feet away. For once in my life, I acted quickly and decisively.
Russell was trembling and looked as if he were about to collapse on top of Seyla. His eyes were darting wildly around, looking for her assailant. He spotted him, being restrained and cuffed by a pair of policemen. He uttered a strangled oath. I knew where he would head in the next second, but I had already made my decision.
"Russell! Help me!" I bent and shoved my arms under Seyla's legs and back and lifted her. Her head lolled forward as I picked her up, pouring a swath of blood down my chest. I thought I felt her go slack, but then she retched again and sprayed more blood over me.
"Russell!" I shouted again. "The gate! We have to get her to the gate! Help me." I began to run with her in my arms.
Russell came to his senses and moved to take one end of her so we could hurry. Just then, I felt her body go slack. "She's stopped breathing!" I cried. "Help, her, Russ, help her breathe." I didn't slow down. Russell tried to breathe for her as I ran but he couldn't keep his mouth on hers.
"Please, Seyla, don't leave us, don't leave. Hang on, please, just a few more minutes." That was Rita, running beside me, with Russell on the other side of her, but I didn't slow down. Even if she had stopped breathing, there was still a chance. Her brain wouldn't die from lack of oxygen in the few minutes it would take me to get to the gate. I felt my heart and lungs straining with the effort of carrying her body, but I could no more slow down than a runaway train going down the side of a mountain.
I staggered the last few steps to the gate on legs which felt like overcooked spaghetti. I gasped and stopped, intending to release her legs, then shove the rest of her into the gate. I was covered with blood. It had run all down the front of my body and covered my boots with a sticky red film.
Some of the Church of the Gaters had built an attractive little flagstone walk the last few yards, pointing the way into the entrance side of the gate. I gasped and tried to hold Seyla upright so I could give her a shove. Her upper body was a dead weight in my arms. I looked frantically for Russell and saw him sprawled yards away where he had tripped in his hurry. Rita moved beside me to help.
Just as we were getting Seyla in position to give her a shove forward, my foot slipped on the bloody flagstone underfoot. I felt my feet begin to slide out from under me. Seyla pitched forward as I lost my grip on her and fell against Rita. Seyla disappeared into the gate and Rita also began to fall backward toward it. Rita reached out a frantic hand and I grabbed at it to keep her from falling into the green nothingness behind her. My wildly reaching grasp caught her hand and closed on it with a death grip. She continued her backwards fall, dragging me with her. She blinked out of existence. I tried to regain my balance but a shimmering green mist rushed toward me as I fell. I closed my eyes in horror as it enveloped me.
BOOK II
VENUS
Chapter Seventeen
First, I was falling into that shimmering green face of the gate and the next instant, I was standing upright, stunned into immobility. In front of me, a tall, brown-haired naked man was twisting his head around to stare at me. He seemed vaguely familiar, but I wasn't concerned with him; Seyla was the only person on my mind.
I heard running steps behind and to my right. I turned and saw Russell racing toward me from around the edge of the gate where I was standing. He looked larger than life.
"Russell! Where's Seyla?" I shouted. My voice came out shrilly, as if something was wrong with my throat, though I felt no pain from it.
Russell scanned the area with frantic eyes, then turned his gaze on me; then to the man behind me. "Oh, God's chips!" he cried. His body slumped as if he were an oversized doll losing its stuffing.
"Where's Seyla?" I demanded again, taking a step toward him. I felt the bounce of twin weights at my chest when I moved. Behind me, the naked man said, "Oh, no! Lee, is that you?"
I turned around. The man was holding a startled hand to his mouth. His eyes were opened as wide as saucers. He stared unbelievingly. I felt goose bumps popping up on my body and suddenly realized I was cold. I wrapped my arms around myself, and then I realized the twin weights protruding from my chest were breasts. I looked down at the pink nipples and almost fainted as I remembered falling into the gate. My God, I had been changed into a woman!
Russell began running around in circles, searching for Seyla and trying to find someone who had been on the other side of the gate when we fell through.
I think my concern for Seyla was the only thing that kept me sane just then. She had gone through the gate in front of Rita and I. Where was she?
"I was standing right here and I didn't see anyone but that naked man and lady come out, Mr. Borderlon," I heard an adolescent voice say.
"You're certain? No one else came out?" Russell was holding a teenaged boy by the shirt collar while he shot frantic questions at him. The boy was frightened by Russell's intensity, but he stuck to his story.
"No, sir, I didn't see anyone else, and I was looking right there when those two came out. He pointed to me and the man I presumed had been Rita. He blushed as he pointed in my direction and hurriedly averted his eyes. I became aware that I was completely naked, but it was of little concern right then. It didn't seem to bother the man, either. He began questioning bystanders while he shivered, and I did the same. While I was talking, someone threw a cloak around my shoulders. I pulled it closed, not from embarrassment, but from the chill air. I murmured a thanks without stopping my quest.
It soon became obvious that we had been too late; either Seyla's injuries had been too severe for even the gate to cure, or it wouldn't transform a person who had stopped breathing. The man who had been Rita put one arm around my shoulders and another around Russell's, who was crying inconsolably. I noticed in passing that someone had loaned him a jacket. He had it tied around his loins but was still shivering. "Come on," he said. "There's nothing more for us here. Seyla didn't make it." He urged us toward where my car was parked.
I stumbled along. The sidewalk was level, but it felt as if I were on the deck of a boat in choppy waters. I rolled, or seemed to, as I walked, feeling the unusual motion coming from inside me, localized in my hip joints, but spreading over my entire body. My breasts jiggled. I leaned backward with each step, trying to keep them still. I felt insects crawling on my neck and reached up to brush them off. My hand met wavy tresses of hair hanging around my shoulders.
Staggering along on the other side of Donna, the man who had been my Rita appeared to be having similar troubles, though of a different sort. Tears were streaming down his face. I felt like crying myself and was barely able to hold back the sobs. Poor Seyla. Just at the moment of her triumph, she had been struck down. Why couldn't it have been me? Please, please, let there be something for her inside the gate, don't let her be gone forever, without a trace remaining. I think it was the first sincere prayer I had uttered since childhood, and I didn't even know to whom or what I was praying.
Donna handed us into the car, insisting I sit up front with her. Why, I don't know, unless it was so I could look at her and remember that she had gone through the same experience. It didn't mat
ter. I didn't want to be a woman. I felt lost, as stranded in my mind as a man might be if isolated physically on an island in the middle of the ocean.
Donna reached over to touch my leg; trying to comfort me, no doubt. I brushed her hand away. In the back seat, Russell's crying finally tapered off into an occasional sob. I stole a glance at Donna. There were dried tear streaks on her cheeks. Her face was pale and drawn with her lips set in a grim line that was an attempt to keep her emotions under control. I realized with a start it was not just me who had reason for grief. Russell and Donna had loved Seyla as much, if not more, than I had. I reached over and squeezed Donna's hand to show I understood. I let it loose quickly. My grip didn't feel right. It was weak and small. I leaned over the backseat and said something to Russell and Rita, I don't remember what. All the way home, my thoughts skittered back and forth between sorrow at Seyla's death and to how much larger everything near me appeared to be.
Donna parked the car and got us inside, like a mother hen herding her chicks. Just as she closed the door, her comphone beeped. She answered, but with voice only.
"Yes, what is it? No, none of us know why he would have done something like that. Please, let it wait until tomorrow, can't you? In the morning? No, wait until the afternoon, please. Call me back and we'll set up a time. You will? Thank you, Chief. Good night."
She explained. "That was Chief Martin. He needs a statement from all of us, but he said we could give it over the web. Come with me, Lee, and let me get you something to put on. Rita, you go with Russell."
I was glad to let her take charge. From grief, I was already retreating into a surly resentment at my fate. And at Rita's. God's chips, we had just been celebrating her conception and now she was a man!
Donna pulled a silken robe from the closet and helped me into it. Did she choose the slithery touch of silk deliberately in order to hurry along my acclimation, or was it accidental? I didn't dare ask. I avoided looking at my image in the mirror. Why would I want to see the female body I was now trapped in?
"Come on, dear. I think we all need a drink." She took my hand and I let her lead me back into the den. Rita the man was already there, wrapped in one of Russell's old robes. He looked at me and smiled tentatively as I entered the room. I tried to return it, not very successfully, I'm afraid, but I did try. It wasn't Rita's fault, and she must have been feeling as lost and disoriented as I was.
Donna led me to the same lounger Rita was on. I sat down at the far end from him. Donna left us and went to the bar to fix drinks. No rum this time. She poured Jack Daniels into short fat glasses, added a couple ice cubes to each and distributed them. I drank half of mine in three gulps.
Donna took a seat by Russell and took his hand, holding it as she spoke. "Lee, I can help you by telling you how it was for me, but Rita, you had better get your advice from Russell. I've gotten accustomed to being a woman. He can probably help you better than I could."
I downed more bourbon. "Damn a bunch of help! What about Seyla? Don't you feel anything for her?" That was a cruel thing to say and I regretted it immediately. "Sorry," I murmured, "I didn't mean that."
The beginning of a hurt look on Donna's face disappeared. "I know you didn't mean it, dear. We'll all be grieving for Seyla for a long time to come." She got a pensive look on her face. "The poor girl. I just hope she's someplace where she will be as happy as she was today."
"Amen," Russell said. He brushed at his eyes with his shirt sleeve.
I thought of the prayer I had voiced to the heavens and nodded. Surely, if there was any reason to the universe, she must still be somewhere. I finished the first bourbon and got up to make another. I felt the disconcerting sway of my breasts beneath the silk wrap as I crossed the room.
I caught Donna eying me as I poured my glass almost full. She smiled faintly. "Careful. Remember your body mass."
What? Oh. I didn't know what I weighed now, but it was certainly a good deal less than I had as a man, and I hadn't been big even then. The same volume of alcohol would hit me harder. At the time, it seemed like a good idea. "I'll worry about it tomorrow, not tonight."
I didn't, either. I had several more while Donna did most of the talking, trying to soothe us in our new bodies. Once, I had to excuse myself to use the bathroom. At first I stood up and remembered just in time through the fog of the bourbon that I had better sit down. I did, and in a few seconds, discovered why females need to use tissue after peeing. I felt the wetness but didn't look down when I wiped. I felt my face flush as I came back into the room.
"I guess one of the first things for you to do is to pick new names for us to call you by," Donna said as I sat back down.
"I don't want a new name," I said, then added, "In fact, I think tomorrow I'll just go back through the gate and see if I come out. I want to be a man again."
"No!" All three of them exclaimed at once. Russell sounded especially emphatic.
"Why not?" I said belligerently.
"Because of the odds, you idiot!" Rita almost shouted. "We just lost Seyla and our baby! I don't want to lose you, too!"
For the first time since arriving home, I remembered we had just discovered that we had been expecting. We had been so enthralled with the idea! That was gone now, unless I-no, damn it, I didn't even want to think of that possibility. Nor, I admitted to myself, did I really want to risk thousands to one odds on the chance I could pass safely through the gate again. I wasn't that brave, which didn't leave a whole lot of options.
"Well, I still don't want a new name," I said, conceding without really saying that I wasn't going to chance the gate.
"How about if we just keep calling you Lee like we have been? You can spell it like the Chinese do, with an i instead of two e's?" Donna suggested.
I shrugged my assent. Li. At least it would sound like my regular name.
"How about you, Rita?"
He made a motion as if to brush his hair back behind his ears, then looked annoyed when his fingers met thin air. He thought a moment, then his expression brightened. "How about Ruez? That has a Spanish sound to go with Hernandez, and it's alliterative besides. You can call me Rez for short."
Ruez. Rez. I rolled the names silently on my tongue. They seemed to fit, not only with his last name but with his Latin countenance. For the first time, I met his gaze directly and saw he was as handsome as Rita had been pretty, with the classical straight nose, short, straight dark brown hair and long-lashed brown eyes. He winked at me solemnly. "It sounds fine to me," I said, dropping my gaze. I think I blushed again.
"Good, that's settled. What next?" Donna asked.
I sure as hell didn't know, so I got up and poured another glass of bourbon. By then, it was beginning to taste like soda pop and I was wobbling when I walked.
Donna pinched her thumb to check the time. None of us had even suggested turning on a screen; there was too much of a possibility that Seyla's assassination would show up and none of us wanted to see that, for sure. "It's getting late. Why don't we all take some Nohang and start over in the morning?"
That suited me. I got up and began moving toward my regular bedroom, then stopped. God's chips, Rez would be in there, too. I stopped and Donna caught my eye.
"Why don't you sleep with me tonight, Li? Russell and Rez can bunk together. That way, each of you will have someone of the same sex near to help you along."
I agreed immediately. Rez hesitated momentarily, then went along with the idea, though he appeared disappointed. We went off to our rooms.
Donna made sure I took a double dose of Nohang; my voice was slurring badly by then. I unwrapped myself from Donna's silken gown and fell into bed. It spun dizzily for a few minutes until the pills began taking effect.
Donna was a familiar body. A soon as my head began to clear, I snuggled up next to her. It was comforting, except that my breasts kept getting in the way.
***
I woke up the next morning with my back up against Donna's body. Her arm was curled comfortably around m
y waist. I heard her soft breath and felt the gentle waft of each exhale tickling my neck. For a moment, I didn't remember what had happened. I thought about turning over and waking her in the best way, but there was no affirming pulse from my penis. What? Oh, damn. Damn it all. I would never feel that welcome, expansive surge of blood flowing into my organ again.
I eased myself gently out from under her arm and tiptoed away from the bed and into the bathroom. I flicked on the light, not looking at anything except my head at first. I ran my fingers back through the waves of hair hanging to my shoulders. It felt loose and springy and soft as a curly-haired kitten's fur. I lowered my eyes slowly down over the reflection of my body in the full-length mirror, then examined it again as my gaze traveled back up, all the way to the top of my head. I stared at myself.
God's chips! Why, I was beautiful! If it had been possible, I would have gotten a raging erection just looking at myself. The rusty, off-color hair I had always hated was replaced with a crown of long wavy locks of purest auburn, or mahogany maybe, shining with sparkling bits of reflected light. The face I thought only tolerable as a man had been transformed into a whole new look. My eyes were no longer a pale blue, but a bright new color, like the deep blue of northern seas, set beneath brows that matched my hair, differing in color only enough to provide an arresting contrast. I blinked and long, pretty eyelashes made my eyes seem to snap and sparkle. My nose was just thin enough to go nicely with my cheekbones and there was a faint, just discernible sprinkling of freckles across my nose and cheeks. My lips were full without being overly sultry, and there was the faintest of dimples showing when I smiled at myself, revealing rows of perfect white teeth. I had a graceful neck and rounded shoulders.
