With Dr. Grace assuaging Allison’s fear about the pain she found herself in, after the feminising medication, Allison is mostly content with the pain pills managing the soreness. Everything with her new tobacco job for One is on hold, for the moment, while she recovers. And she’s had lunch, needing to eat well to fuel the changes her body is going through. But she doesn’t know what else to do; what she can do.

What exactly do women, with no employment, and no ability—at least usually—to drink and dine out on fancy meals, actually occupy their days with? At least Allison has Angie to keep her company. The question is will Angie ever stop eating the mountain of food she bought with the effects of the tasting smoke still lingering? Will they ever get to the library she mentioned? Why even read fiction? And will men continue to bother the woman who’s been told she needs to walk the station, for the sake of her health?

Allison has dealt with her first client, a man named Des, where they smoked some smokes that were relaxing. However Allison is less relaxed leaving Des’s voter’s apartment. This despite Des’s insistence it was a good talk. What he’d explained to her didn’t sit well with Allison. Especially him saying, to sum all he said up, “Voting doesn’t change things. Laws don’t enforce things. People change things. People enforce things.” As if some dismissal of the reality of the station was as easy as a wave of his hand.

He did suggest she meet her friends, and even suggested where they go. The only reason Allison is going to where Des recommended is because Des admitted the woman there, the woman who owns the place, Jenny, might be able to help more than he could. Allison figures she might as well try; she’s tired. No-one’s been outwardly hostile, but with the twists and turns she just wants to relax, and have someone actually help her. She really, really hopes she can just relax. Even if there’s no help... Just relax...

Allison is a woman now, definitely legally, the court has ruled on that. And she’s been to see a woman’s doctor. An actually qualified, voter doctor, with all the education and training, who injected Allison with medication she could never have thought even existed; it’ll turn her into a woman. Or at least give her the physical appearance of a woman, within a few months. A second puberty. Then the doctor ‘prescribed’ Allison and her friend Angie a nice meal in a really lovely restaurant on the hospital level. This, according to Angie, is why everyone loves Doctor Grace.

The only other thing left on Allison’s agenda, which was written by Angie, is to get shoes. She can’t keep walking around barefoot and she can’t stand wearing boots in the lace-less female style; every time she stumbles from loose boots a man runs to her rescue. So shoes it is. And shoes are easy, right? There’s no surprises with shoes? Surely..?

On the deep space welcoming station Patryk is now Allison, or so it seems. He’s never in his life heard of a man becoming a woman. No-one has. No-one even talked about the possibility of it happening. But it’s what’s happened to Patryk, after he met One, a mysterious man who gave him something to smoke that helped Patryk remember his dreams. One offered Patryk a job then brought Patryk to Patryk’s new apartment. The first time since Patryk’s first few months as an adult he has his own apartment.

But now Patryk is all alone in his new home. He has to begin living his, or her, new life. But is Patryk really Allison? Nothing can be this easy. Simply put on clothes, style your hair and walk into the midsts of the station? Can Patryk even walk into the station as Allison? Does he even have a choice?

The following morning, I was roused from my slumber by Mir'tan's movements. As she flashed me a sweet smile, she leaned in for a tender kiss. "Good morning, Lor'hi. I'll be back in just a moment." Winking at me, she disappeared into the bathroom. My heart swelled with contentment as I lay there, grinning and taking a deep breath.

Curiously, I asked my AI, "Kitty, what does Lor'hi mean?"

To Return Home

Thanks to Malady for his help editing and for ideas.

Cover image from Unsplash

Chapter 3.6

We weren’t quite certain what the effect of Marc being present would have, so both he and Paula were asked to remain out of sight.

We started our trip down the wall of the pit. On our way down, my husband, ever the engineer, examined the walls. “These were molten once. It's like they were super-heated, then cooled into an alloy.”

“Do you think Kari did it?” Daddy asked.

To Return Home

Thanks to Malady for his help editing and for ideas.

Cover image from Unsplash

2.7

It was a couple of days later that I entered Marc’s lab.

“Whatcha want, Rose?” he asked, keeping lots of distance between us. I assumed he didn’t want my sister to know he’d been talking to me.

“She’s still mad at us?” I asked.

“I’m on probation. I’m not supposed to help you with anything right now.”

Ward of the State
(pilot episode)
Copyright 2021 by Heather Rose Brown

In a near-future world not too different from our own, homelessness has become a hot topic. Citizens are demanding *something* has to be done about it. This is the start of a story about what happens when drastic plans created by poorly informed but enthusiastic committees are put into action.

=-=-=

The Crew of the Argo-1D1S gets stranded when a spacial anomaly transports them into deep uncharted space. They're mission to return home begins now.

Tales from the Argo follows the story of Cassie Martinez, an ensign class recruit new to the Argo. What she expected to be a month long diplomatic mission has become a long fight for survival. And that's not even the first of it, Ensign Martinez boarded the Argo as a human male named Casey Martinez!

(Migrated from my Wattpad entry)

The truth always hurts (ancient saying).

Caution: contains scene of a murder, smoking scenes

The news about Julia and Sandra spread like the flash of a lightning. Televisions came, reporters asked them for interviews, many organizations wanted them to be their honorific members. In only a few weeks, everyone was talking about. Julia's transformation from a girl and Sandra's transformation from a guy, both into hermaphrodites, reached the front pages of many news corporations. Reporters were everywhere for a while. It was known as the surgery of the century.

It takes a little fire to ignite, to burn a whole forest (ancient saying).

Checks take about an hour, there’s only three pages to run through. I’m not taking off in an atmosphere, and the engine hasn’t been cool for too long. In fifteen minutes the drive is hot.

Solid fuel is fine. Water is fine. I went out and bought 25 lbs of food. Fresh vegetables and fruit (at an obscene markup), rice, bread, adventuresome pizza, beef, pork, rabbit, sausage, some whale, and gas station sushi. Gas station sushi is never a good idea, and for some reason I keep buying it. I throw out some noodles with a sense of vindication and relief.

I’ve been on the station nearly a week. It’s taking this long for Bob’s Gun’s to get their money together, and I’m beginning to think they’re jerking me around.

But that’s not why I’m staying.

I’ve been sleeping in that weird bed for three nights. Well we do a lot less than sleep. That is, very little sleep goes on in the bed. Sort of.

For three days I’ve slept in, while Lia goes off to work her ten hours. Hard is the kind of place that stay open at her convenience, and the regulars know when to come. The non-regulars find somewhere soft to drink.

The Bob’s Gun’s have to get a lot of escrow together, so in the meantime I have nothing to do, but nothing to do.

Get a bra Elven. Put on the sexy boots again.

I go back to the hanger, get into the bunk house, and pick up something with fringe. I don’t have anything in white, or cream. You’ll see the black through my white crop top, but it’s tiny so I decide that’s okay, and put it in my purse.

The filter is probably done by now. Lets check with Mitch.

God, I need a shower.

More precisely I need a public shower. I know what the showers are like in a brothel, and I don’t feel like the sense of community would be helpful right now. I’m sure there are staff showers, and I’m also sure I don’t want to experience them.

I stand for a long time in front of Paint. They must do a lot of business, they have a fancy sign that changes color and font. This is what you want. Go in there.

I don’t move.

Go in there, Eleven!

I move. Put my hand on the door handle. Open it. Step inside.

The smell in here is overwhelming. A hundred different kinds of perfume. There are vials on the wall. Lotions, soap, scrubby things, all in pastel.

I have entered the Temple of Woman.

“Yah need a carbon mod fer yer printer, but I dun’t think you’ll know how ta print one.”

First male I’ve talked to while I have breasts. He’s not attractive, thank god.

I’m on call with a Sector & Sector mechanic who knows nothing about me, or the mission, but is supposed to know a hell of a lot about this ship. Maybe he does, but I’m coming face to face with an attitude that should have died out last millennium.

“Look little lady, is the ship captain there, I think he’d better understand what I’m talking about.”

“How has your week been?” Dr. Jordan has a plate of chobbish and is munching away. I have (ugh) noodle rations. We’ve been having dinner together once a week for four weeks now. It’s been about four days since I managed to get off for the first time, and now I’ve been doing it at every opportunity. Sometimes I dress up, sometime just my thoughts are enough to get me off.

“You said I’d have a teenager’s libido. That’s pretty much true.” I still fantasize about Dr. Jordan’s mouth, but I’m learning to control it.

I’ll be honest, I panic.

First because some girl managed to stowaway aboard the ship. That’s a huge problem, she’s going to be hungry and I only have enough food for 6 months of me and no one else.

This assumption lasts for long enough for me to turn around and see no one behind me.