Synopsis:

Synopsis: A Navy SEAL is transformed into a sexy female super soldier by an alien machine. After escaping from a secret lab, she sets out to learn who she is. Now back in LA, Brandi finds trouble, friendship and just maybe something more…. Part 3 of 5.

Warning: This story contains no graphic sexual content but does have adult language, situations and violent action scenes.

Story:

Genomorph Part 3 of 5

By Breanna Ramsey

Edited by Janet Nolan and Carla Winters

Dear Mom,

Well I made the news…sort of. Fortunately the CHP took credit for busting up the hijacking ring, and there was no mention of a mysterious redheaded woman. I’m sure the cops have the story; they just can’t believe it.

The smart thing to do is move; ‘clear datum’ as the submarine boys say. Every bit of training I ever had tells me that. So of course I’m going to stay.   LA is a big place, and even if ‘they’ make a connection between the hijacking ring story and me, ‘they’ will expect me to move on. I have no intention of living on the run constantly.

I was looking at my medals today, wondering why I even brought them with me. After all, should someone see them they would be difficult to explain. I guess it’s because they are a connection to my past, and I am still desperately clinging to my past. But there is more to it than that, more than just me trying to hold on to the man I used to be.

It all boils down to fear. As Brandon, I really didn’t know fear. That is not to say I was never afraid. No one can go into combat without some fear, and if they claim to they are lying. But I never really, truly knew fear.

Now, I am afraid all the time. Just walking out the door is a frightening thing. I’m afraid of who and what I have become. I’m afraid of how I will be seen, and how I will deal with people. Fear has motivated so much of my life since I was changed, and so much of who I was is gone. It’s only been four months since I was transformed, but each day Brandon Anderson is more and more like someone I knew, and only exists in my memories.

But the medals remind me of the person I was. Not the man I was…the person…the person I pray is still there inside me….

CHAPTER 16

Melissa Barlowe really wished she had brought a coat to work. The mid August night was chilly, maybe not to some but definitely to her. The short, pink satin waitress uniform was no help at all. She would be so happy when they finally found a new roommate and she and her friend Karen could quit their bar jobs. Karen, who shared a house with her in Venice, had been the lucky one. Maybe Woofers, the bar Karen worked at, was not the classiest place around but it was close to home and in a much better part of town. Melissa sighed; if money wasn’t so tight, and gas so expensive, she would drive. At least she only had a few more blocks to walk to catch the bus.

She was almost to the bus stop when she noticed that the three morons who had been hitting on her all night long were following her. Getting hit on by guys was something she had grown accustomed to working at the bar, though most of the regulars had by now learned that she was not attainable. She had never seen these three before tonight, and they had finally gotten rowdy enough that the bouncers had shown them the door.

“Stupid!” Melissa muttered as she picked up her pace. Her father had been an LA cop for thirty years and he had lectured her on safety often enough. They must have been waiting for her outside, but she had not been paying attention to her surroundings and now she was blocks away from the bar and help; there was not another soul in sight. She prayed the bus would be on time as she rounded a corner and looked hopefully to the bus stop.

The bus was nowhere to be seen, so she continued walking, quickening her pace further. She should have brought sneakers to change into; her feet were already killing her from a long night in the four inch heels she wore for the job.

She was very pretty, five feet six inches tall with midnight black hair and emerald green eyes. She had a fiery personality, but right now she was scared. There was no one in sight except her three pursuers, and as she looked over her shoulder she saw that they were now closing the distance, as if they sensed their prey’s fear.

Relief washed over her as she rounded another corner and saw a group of half a dozen people in the distance. She was almost running now, and she had just opened her mouth to call out when they caught her. She let out a strangled scream before a hand clamped over her mouth and she was dragged towards an alley to her right. She thought she saw a girl in the group turn and look back, and prayed that she had been seen.

Melissa fought as the three men dragged her into the nearby alley, kicking one in the shin. The one holding her spun her roughly and backhanded her across the left side of her face. She cried out in pain but recovered quickly, lunging forward and shoving him with all her strength. He stumbled back into his two friends and Melissa turned and ran the only way she could, further down the alley. As she ran she screamed for help. She had not run very far when she was stopped by a ten foot high chain link fence.

“Shit!” she cried. She turned, pressing her back against the fence, and faced her pursuers. The three men advanced with looks of menacing glee on their faces.

“Keep away you fucking bastards!” she screamed, then turned and tried vainly to climb the fence. Her attackers pulled her down and threw her roughly to the pavement.

“You’re only gonna make us hurt you worse if you keep fighting, bitch,” one of the men said.

“You’ll have to beat me to death, then!” Melissa snarled back, determined to resist at any cost. She had spirit but was much smaller than her attackers, and she knew she had no chance. Still, she scrambled to her feet and tried run, but was caught and yanked back. Turning on her attacker, she raked her nails down the side of his face leaving four deep scratches. The man cursed and punched her, again on the left side of her face, the force of the blow knocking her down again. Her vision blurred as she hovered on the edge of blacking out, and she knew she had lost. Despite her anger she began crying from the pain and fear, but she was determined that she would never beg.

“You know, I, like, really don’t think she wants to play,” a voice called from the entrance to the alley. All eyes turned to focus on the newcomer, a very buxom blonde girl with the face of an angel. She stood with her body cocked in a provocative posture and smiled sweetly.

Melissa was mesmerized. The blonde was without a doubt the most beautiful girl she had ever seen. And her body…even beneath the oversized t-shirt and baggy black pants it was obvious that she had an incredible figure. She moved with an easy, sensual grace as she walked down the alley towards them.

Stopping as she neared the scene, the blonde girl examined her fingernails for a moment, and then looked at the three men again. Her eyes were wide and full of innocent mirth and with a playful flip of her long pony tail she purred sexily, “I’m game, if, like, you guys think you can handle me. I warn you though…I like it rough.”

“Well, well, what do we have here?” the tallest of the three said, walking over to the blonde and reaching out to grab one of her ample breasts roughly. “Another bitch to play with.”

“Oooh, baby,” the blonde purred, “that’s kinda nice, but it’s not the game I was thinkin’ of.”

The blonde’s hands moved so fast they were almost a blur, grabbing the tall man’s wrist and elbow. With a quick twist she forced his arm out and away from his body, his shoulder dislocating with an audible pop. He cried out in pain, cursing loudly as the girl swung him around and then slammed him face first into the wall of one of the buildings lining the alley. He bounced off and flopped to the pavement like a rag doll, lying there and moaning in pain.

“Well, that wasn’t even a decent work out,” the girl pouted, turning her attention towards the other two. “You guys are gonna have to step it up ‘cause I get, like, cranky when my playmates let me down.”

The two men rushed forward towards the blonde. She easily side stepped the clumsy attack of one, a short, stocky fellow with a flattened nose that had been punched one too many times. With a quick swipe of her right leg she took his feet out from under him. As he went over backwards she snapped her elbow into his nose, flattening it further. He went down on his ass hard as she turned her attention to the other man.

The third would be rapist produced a knife and lunged towards her. In one fluid motion she caught his wrist, twisted the knife free and stabbed it deep into his thigh. He fell to the ground, grasping his leg and howling in pain.

The blonde girl moved quickly over to Melissa and helped her up.

“Are you ok, honey?” she asked, her eyes wide with concern. Melissa started to respond, but saw the stocky man rushing up from behind the blonde. Her eyes grew wide, and she tried to cry out a warning.

The blonde merely grinned and said, “This’ll only take a sec.”

A fraction of a second before the man’s hands reached her throat she whirled to face him, snapping her right fist solidly into his nose and flattening it even more. He staggered back, blood streaming from his nose, and then took a swing which she ducked under. He tried again, snapping his left fist forward. This time she caught his wrist as she dodged to his left, twisting his arm behind him as she forced him against the wall of the building to her right. He continued to struggle and she jerked the arm up painfully.

“I’m very disappointed; you guys treated me like a girl,” the blonde said disdainfully. “And I have this rule about being treated like a girl in a fight.”

With a deliberate twist she dislocated his shoulder as well, and then grabbed a fist full of hair and smashed his face into the wall for good measure. She then released him to join his friends rolling on the ground in pain.

“That oughta keep you from causing trouble for a while,” the blonde said. “Maybe next time you’ll think twice about attacking someone just ‘cause you think they’re weak…I seriously doubt it though.”

Applause erupted from the group of stunned spectators who had gathered at the mouth of the alley. The blonde beamed a big smile and then bowed theatrically before turning her attention to the battered girl again. Her face took on a serious look as she examined Melissa’s face.

“Do you want to call the cops?” she asked. Melissa shook her head no, dazed over the whole incident.

“Well, let’s get you out of here before they show up anyway,” the blonde suggested. “Personally, I’d rather not answer a bunch of questions tonight from the police. My hotel’s not too far from here if you’re ok to walk.”

“I…I can walk,” Melissa stuttered.

“Cool, we’ll get you cleaned up then,” the blonde said in a bubbly tone. “My name’s Brenda Williams by the way, but you can call me Brandi.”

Melissa stammered out her name as she found herself staring at Brandi’s wide, innocent eyes. She had never seen such a color, a deep violet that was not the product of contact lenses. She could get lost in those eyes.

The girl was much too pretty to be dressing so butch, she thought as Brandi helped her down the street. She wondered if she was a hooker, or perhaps danced at one of the clubs nearby. She certainly had the body for it.

The hotel was only one step above a fleabag, and as Brandi settled her onto one of the beds Melissa began to suspect that maybe she was a runaway. She noticed that the room was very neat, with no loose personal items lying around. On the other bed she saw a duffel bag and what looked to be a laptop computer bag, all packed as though Brandi was ready to leave at a moment’s notice.

It was hard to tell how old she was. She had the face of a teenager, sweet and angelic, but definitely the body of a woman. Her pale, golden blonde hair, even though it was pulled back and secured with a black scrunchie, still had a wild, unkempt look. Its loose curls looked like they got very little attention from comb or brush.

“We need to get some ice on your face,” Brandi said as she rose and walked to the sink. She picked up a plastic ice bucket and stepped over to the door.

“Will you be ok if I pop out for just a sec?”

Melissa nodded silently. Brandi left the room, returning quickly with a bucket full of ice. She took a clean wash cloth, dampened it and piled ice in it before returning to Melissa’s side.

“You were amazing!” Melissa gushed, and then winced as Brandi touched the wash cloth to her swollen face. “Where did you learn to fight like that?”

“That is a long story,” Brandi smiled. Her voice still had the sweet innocent tone but no longer the playful sexiness. “Let’s just say I’ve had a lot of training.”

“Well, I’m glad,” Melissa said, her voice growing quiet. “If you hadn’t come along when you did…”

Brandi was expecting the tears and when they came, she held Melissa and let her get it out of her system. Even after four months she was still getting used to how easily she herself cried, but she was certainly able to understand Melissa’s reaction. The fear of having sex forced upon her was all too real to Brandi, though in her case it was her own internal programming that was doing the forcing.

“It’s ok, Melissa, you’re safe now.” Brandi soothed. Holding the pretty brunette was causing feelings to stir in her; she had found that while she was technically bisexual she was far more attracted to women, probably because to the remnant of the man she had been it felt natural.

“So, do you work around here,” Melissa asked once she had regained her composure, “or are you just passing through town?”

Brandi considered the pretty brunette a moment before responding. There was something very familiar about her, but despite her enhanced memory she could not recall ever having seen this young woman before.

“Actually, I’m looking for a place to rent,” she told Melissa. “I’ve only been in town a couple of days and I don’t know LA at all, though, so I don’t really know where to start.”

Melissa’s eyes opened wide and a big smile sprang to her face, making her wince.

“I’m looking for a new roommate!” She exclaimed. “I’ve got a great place over on Venice Beach. My friend Karen and I live there and we’ve been looking for another roomie for weeks. It has a beautiful ocean view and you’d have your own bathroom and everything!”

“Melissa, you don’t even know me,” Brandi said softly.

“Well, I know I’d feel a lot better having you as a friend,” Melissa said sincerely. “Oh, come on, at least come and check the place out. I know you’ll love it...unless…well it is pretty pricey. I actually own the house but I rent out the two extra bedrooms to pay for the utilities and taxes and such. I’d be more than willing to work with you on it though. I mean I really owe you.”

“Money is not the problem,” Brandi admitted. “I sort of have a trust fund. And you don’t owe me a thing.”

“Well then, that’s settled,” Melissa stated firmly. “Look, you rescued me; you have to at least see that I get home safely right?”

Brandi reached into the right cargo pocket of her BDUs and pulled out a pack of Marlboro 100s and a Zippo lighter. She lit one and took a long drag and then exhaled slowly, noticing as she did that Melissa was looking at the pack longingly. She extended the cigarettes to her and Melissa smiled and took one. Brandi extended her Zippo lighter and flicked the wheel and Melissa lit her cigarette in the flame.

“I just quit for the third time,” she sighed as she exhaled a cloud of smoke. “After tonight’s excitement I guess I can quit again another time.”

“Melissa, I really appreciate your offer,” Brandi said slowly. “There are things about me though…I don’t think I would be a good roommate for you and your friend.”

“Why, because you’re running from something?” Melissa asked, causing Brandi to give her a startled look. “Don’t worry, I’m not psychic or anything. I just recognize the signs; bags packed and ready to go, trying to look unobtrusive.

“I don’t really care about that, Brandi. Whatever you are running from, you can’t have done anything bad…if you had, you would have never stopped to help me. And I’m pretty good at reading people.”

“I just don’t know,” Brandi said.

“Look, just stay with us for a while,” Melissa suggested. “It’s way better than this place, and I guarantee you will fall in love with Venice Beach.”

“Ok, but it’s just a trial for the moment,” Brandi said. “If it works out, there are things about me I will have to tell you. And then, if you want me out of your life I’ll go with no fuss.”

“Not gonna happen,” Melissa smiled broadly. “I think this is the beginning of a great friendship.”

*****

The lights were burning late in the office of the Commander, Naval Special Warfare. Lieutenant Matt Branch waited outside the office of Admiral Hammerstein, wondering why he had been ordered to report. He was supposed to be on his way to Virginia, where he would be taking part in the testing of the new Advanced SEAL Delivery System. Branch had tried to strike up a conversation with the Admiral’s secretary, a pretty Lieutenant JG named Michelle Trask, but she had only smiled and told him the Admiral would be available shortly.

“You can go in now, Lieutenant,” the Admiral’s secretary told him. Branch smiled and entered the Admiral’s office.

“Have a seat, Lieutenant,” Hammerstein told him.

Branch settled into a chair before the Admiral’s desk and waited for his superior to tell him why he was here. Hammerstein leaned back in his chair and sighed.

“I apologize for interrupting your travel arrangements,” Hammerstein began. “When we are done here, arrangements will be made to get you to your destination, should you choose to continue.”

That got Branch’s attention. Something was definitely up.

“I know I don’t have to tell you about security,” Hammerstein continued, passing a file folder marked Classified: Top Secret to Branch. “After you read this, you’ll understand more.”

Branch opened the folder and was immediately surprised by the name which leapt off the page to catch his eye. As he read the report, his face displayed varying reactions, beginning with outright disbelief, then shocked amazement and finally, a cold, burning rage. If it had not come from Admiral Hammerstein; if he were not in this office reading the incredible tale the report detailed, he would have thought it a sick joke.

“What do you need me to do, sir,” Branch asked as he finished. His voice was hard and determined.

“What I am going to ask you to do is well outside the chain of command,” Hammerstein said. “This is a black op, the blackest. It could cost you your career.”

“Begging the Admiral’s pardon, but to hell with my career,” Branch said, smacking the report with his hand. “This is outrageous! Brandon Anderson was…is…hell I don’t even know how to say it but he’s more than just my former CO. He’s a friend.”

“I thought you would feel that way,” Hammerstein smiled. “The other members of your platoon will be here in the morning. I suspect they will feel the same way. Once you leave here, you will be on your own. Equipment has been pre-positioned. Be ready to move on very short notice.”

“We’ll be ready, sir,” Branch assured him.

The Admiral nodded and rose, walking around and extending his hand. Branch rose as well and shook the Admiral’s hand, then stepped back and saluted.

“Lieutenant Trask has your quarters arranged,” Hammerstein said as he returned the salute. “I’ll see you at 0600 tomorrow.”

A short time later Branch was lying on the bed in his quarters for the night. By this time tomorrow the platoon would be in a safe house in Los Angeles. Then they would watch and wait.

He could not get the picture out of his head, the face of the beautiful young woman that had once been Brandon Anderson. He tried to imagine what it must be like for her; to have everything you were, your gender, the very basis for a person’s identity, ripped away. He realized there was no way he could understand…the concept was simply too alien to even grasp.

But he did see that Brandon, in the form of Brandi, had been given an extraordinary second chance. And he knew that he would do what it took, even if it meant his career, or his life, to see that she got that chance.

He owed her that, and much more.

CHAPTER 17

“This is really nice, Melissa,” Brandi said as they entered Melissa’s house. The house was a contemporary two story, long and narrow, as was the norm for the area. The back faced a street named Speedway, with a two car garage opening onto the street. The front looked out directly on Ocean Front Walk and the beach. They entered through the back door into a utility room and through that into a short hallway.

“That’s Karen’s room,” Melissa said, pointing to a door on the left. “It’s a full master suite. I’m afraid you’ll have the smallest bedroom, but like I said it has a full bath and a walk in closet and it’s fully furnished.”

The hallway opened into the dining room with the kitchen to the left. Beyond the dining room was a large family room with a fireplace. Melissa led her through the family room and out the front door. There was a large porch that looked out on the ocean, and Brandi took a deep breath, the smell of the ocean and the sound of the surf bringing back a flood of memories.

“It’s beautiful, Melissa,” Brandi said, her eyes closed as she let the sounds and scents wash over her. For a moment she could almost forget…almost.

“You really own this place?”

“It was my parents’,” Melissa said. “They died last year in a car accident.”

“Oh, Melissa I’m so sorry,” Brandi said. “I lost my parents too…a long time ago.”

“You must have been very young,” Melissa said. “Brandi, I don’t mean to pry but how old are you?”

“Twenty-one,” Brandi told her. “I know I look young…”

“Brandi, its cool,” Melissa assured her. “Just be prepared to get carded a lot, even with that figure of yours.”

Leading her upstairs, Melissa showed Brandi the room that would be hers. It may have been the smallest in the house but it was larger than the hotel room she had been staying in. It was definitely a girl’s room, with pink walls and a full sized canopy bed. There was a large dresser and a desk as well, and on the wall opposite the foot of the bed was a flat screen television. The walk in closet was very spacious, and the bathroom had a vanity and a large spa tub.

“This is very nice,” Brandi said, setting her duffel bag and computer satchel on the bed. “Is there internet access?”

“Yes,” Melissa said. “It’s wireless, so you can access it from anywhere in the house if your laptop has a wireless card.”

“It does,” Brandi said.

“Well I need to get out of these clothes,” Melissa sighed. “After you’re settled in, why don’t you come downstairs and we can talk if you like.”

Brandi smiled, “Thank you, Melissa, I’ll do that.”

Melissa left Brandi and walked across the hall to her own bedroom. When she was gone Brandi unpacked, a short task considering how little she had. She placed the box containing Brandon’s medals, along with the framed Medal of Honor citation, on a shelf in the closet. Her clothes she placed in the dresser…it did not take much room even though she had picked up a few items since she returned to LA. She set her laptop on the desk. Her meager collection of toiletries went into the bathroom and a few other items into the drawer of the night stand. Last of all she took the nearly nine thousand dollars in cash she had remaining and hid it in the space beneath one of the bottom drawers of the dresser and then placed her empty duffel bag on top of the medals and citation in the closet.

Once her belongings were put away, Brandi stripped off her clothes, sighing with relief as she removed her sports bra. It was designed to provide maximum compression and support for running and was not really intended to be worn all the time. She did not really need the support; her body was modified to carry the weight of her breasts but the bra was more of a security blanket, minimizing her bust somewhat.

She stood for several minutes, regarding her naked body in the mirror over the vanity. She tried to think what she would have thought had she seen a girl like her when she was Brandon. She wanted to believe he would have looked at her as a person, but she knew that if Brandon had seen her walking down the street it would be the body he noticed first. He was a good man, but he was still a man.

Can’t really fault him for that, she thought. This body was made to be noticed.

Deciding she had finished her introspection, she opened the top dresser drawer and removed her most recent clothing purchase, a knit pajama set. She had decided that the easiest way to go was to start dressing in attire appropriate to her gender in a non public setting. She slipped the lavender camisole top and matching long pants on, grabbed her cigarettes and lighter and headed downstairs.

Melissa was still in her room, so Brandi settled into a wicker chair on the porch and lit a cigarette. There was an ashtray on the table by the chair so she figured it would be all right to smoke. Closing her eyes, Brandi let the sound of the surf wash over her again. For the first time in days she felt that she could relax.

“Oh…hello.”

Brandi jumped, literally, up from the chair. That the voice had surprised her was obvious. That she had gotten so relaxed she could be surprised made it even worse. Fortunately she did not attack the young woman standing in the front doorway.

“Whoa there, sweetheart, take a breath,” the girl laughed. She was Brandi’s height, with shoulder length auburn hair, and was dressed in a pair of tight red shorts and a black t-shirt with the word Woofers across the front. She was very nicely built though not as large breasted as Brandi. With a sigh she kicked off her heels as she stepped onto the porch, a wine bottle and two glasses in her hand.

“Sorry, I thought you were Melissa,” she said as she dropped into the chair opposite the one Brandi had been sitting in.

“I’m Brandi,” Brandi said as she sat back down. “Melissa is changing.”

“Nice to meet you, Brandi,” the girl said. “I’m Karen, Melissa’s roommate.”

“Is that where you work?” Brandi asked, gesturing to Karen’s t-shirt.

“Only temporarily, I hope,” Melissa laughed. “Hooters was already taken. So are you going to be our new roomie?”

“I’m considering it,” Brandi said. “Listen, I should tell you Melissa had a pretty rough night.”

“That’s an understatement,” Melissa said from the doorway. She was dressed in a long green knit nightshirt and as she stepped out onto the porch Brandi winced; her face had swollen much more. Karen took one look at her and was instantly on her feet.

“What the fuck happened to you!”

“Calm down,” Melissa soothed. “I’ll tell you the whole story, but first you need to get another glass for Brandi and I’m gonna bum a smoke from our new roomie.”

Brandi smiled and passed the pack and lighter to Melissa as Karen went back into the house for another wine glass. She filled the three glasses, and after taking a deep drag of her cigarette and exhaling slowly, Melissa began telling Karen of her night’s ordeal. She also managed to lavish enough praise on Brandi to make her blush bright red.

“Brandi, I did have a question about the alley,” Melissa said after she finished the story. “Please don’t take this wrong, because God knows those assholes deserved it, but the last guy…”

“Why did I hurt him?” Brandi asked.

“Well, yeah, I mean you already had him beat,” Melissa said.

“No, I had him controlled for the moment,” Brandi corrected. “If I had just let him go, he might have just run off, or he may have kept fighting. Then he might have hurt someone else, or tried something that forced me to really hurt him. I had the chance to end the fight there, so I did. I don’t, like, get off on fighting or hurting people, but when I have to fight, I fight to win.”

“Well, you get no argument from me,” Karen said angrily. “I wouldn’t care if you had killed the bastards.”

Brandi became quiet, wondering what these two young women would think if they knew she had killed before and in fact as recently as three days ago. She had thought a lot about the man she had killed in the garage. It was the first time she had taken a life outside of war, and yet it was the same as any of the others. There had simply been no choice and she had done what was necessary to save another’s life. She knew that it was part of the reason she was who she was now; part of the reason the Genomorph Protocol had been triggered.

“So, are you planning on going to school out here, Brandi?” Karen asked after taking a sip of wine.

“I don’t really have any firm plans,” Brandi said. “I have a lot of stuff about my life I have to figure out, kinda the whole ‘finding myself’ cliché. What about you two?”

“We’re both in the graduate program at UCLA,” Melissa told her. “I’m working on my masters in music and Karen in political science.”

Brandi smiled reflexively; Brandon had a masters in political science. She wondered if she could even carry on an intelligent conversation on the topic, or if her programming would make her words come out like a bimbo.

“Do you know what your thesis is going to be yet, Karen?” Brandi asked, deciding to give it a try.

“Yes,” Karen said, her eyebrows rising slightly. “It’s on the evolving role of the military in the post cold war era, and more specifically in the war on terrorism. It also stresses the importance of understanding the mindset behind groups like Al-Qaeda, in order to effectively counter them.”

Brandi smiled and said, “If you know yourself, but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat.”

“Sun Tzu, I’m impressed,” Karen smiled. Her smile quickly faded as she realized how that sounded.

“Brandi, I didn’t mean…”

“It’s ok, Karen,” Brandi laughed. “I get that a lot. I’ve gotten used to being seen as, like, a bimbo. We all tend to see the surface first, and once you realize that it can actually be kinda useful.”

The three talked for a while, getting to know one another. Brandi learned that Melissa had been born and raised in Los Angeles. She was an only child and her father had been with the LAPD for thirty years. After he retired he had done some writing, true crime stories, and even acted as technical consultant for some television movies and series. Her mother had sold real estate. They had been comfortable, though far from wealthy. Her parents’ unexpected death had left her with a house to maintain and a stack of student loans to pay off.

While she listened to Melissa talk about herself, Brandi was again struck by the feeling that she had met the girl before. If so it had to have been as Brandon, which she frankly doubted since he had never been to LA in his life.

She searched her memory, unable to shake the feeling, but came up blank. While her vastly improved memory allowed her to recall events from her past as clearly as though they had just happened, it often required the right trigger to access a particular memory if it was buried deeply.

“It would probably be a lot smarter to sell the house,” Melissa sighed. “But I’m just not ready to do that yet.”

“I was lucky in a way, I guess,” Brandi said and then stopped, her eyes widening for a second. She had been about to say that her education at Annapolis was paid for by the government.

“I mean, like, I have my trust fund so I haven’t had to worry about money,” she finished.

“I was just noticing that ring you’re wearing,” Melissa remarked, gesturing to the chain around Brandi’s neck. “Is that your boyfriend’s?”

“Um, no,” Brandi said, holding the ring up so they could see it better. “It’s a Naval Academy class ring. It belonged to…a friend. He died a few months ago.”

“Oh, Brandi, I’m sorry,” Melissa said. “Was he killed in the war?”

“Not directly,” Brandi said, her voice growing very quiet. “It was…complications…he was badly wounded.”

Melissa smiled in understanding and let the subject drop. It was obvious that it was making Brandi very uncomfortable.

Karen Meadows came to LA from Littleton, Colorado six years earlier. She and Melissa had met in their second year at UCLA and had been friends ever since. The two had similar personalities, both determined and spirited; but Melissa tended to be more outgoing and Karen more reserved.

Of course they wanted to know about Brandi as well, and she did her best to be truthful without being too truthful. Finally she had to put a stop to any further questions.

“Look, I’m sure you both know I’m holding stuff back,” she said. “I mean it’s, like, obvious I’m dodging your questions and it’s because the only other choice is to lie, and I don’t wanna do that. Please be patient with me. I promise if I decide to take you up on the offer to stay, I will tell you everything about me, and then it will be up to you guys if I stay or not.”

Melissa and Karen shared a look before either spoke.

“I understand Brandi,” Melissa said. “I hope you’ll feel comfortable enough to open up to us soon. We’d really like to help if we can.”

“Just tell us you’re not on the FBI’s ten most wanted list,” Karen added, her smile showing she meant it as a joke.

Brandi giggled, “I can say for sure that I am not,” she said. It was true; the people that were after her were powerful, but they did not want to attract any more attention to their activities than necessary.

“Well, I have the weekend off so tomorrow how about I show you around a bit, Brandi?” Melissa suggested.

“I don’t want to be a bother,” Brandi said. “I’m sure you must have a boyfriend you’d like to spend time with on your weekend off.”

Karen laughed heartily, and even Melissa giggled. Brandi looked at them, wondering what she had missed.

“Brandi, I probably should have mentioned this sooner. I’m a lesbian.” Melissa told her. “I hope that doesn’t bother you.”

Brandi did not answer immediately; she was too surprised by her reaction to Melissa’s words. She had been attracted to the pretty brunette from the start, but now her heart was racing and she felt her skin becoming flush and warm. To make matters worse, she could feel her nipples hardening, and knew they were plainly visible through the thin knit cami.

“No…that doesn’t bother me at all, really,” she managed to say.

Melissa and Karen both noticed her reaction; it would have been hard not too.

“Brandi, do you mind if I ask…” Melissa began.

“I don’t know,” Brandi answered, and her voice trembled slightly. “I’m…it’s complicated. Let’s just say that for now sex is something I am trying very hard to stay away from.”

Brandi rose from her seat with a nervous smile before they could ask any more questions and said, “I’m really kinda tired. I think I’ll, like, take a bath and then turn in.”

Melissa and Karen said goodnight and Brandi practically ran upstairs to her bedroom. She started the water for her bath and slipped off her pajamas, and was just about to climb into the tub when she stopped. She made her way back into the bedroom and opened the drawer on the nightstand. Slowly, she reached in and pulled out a waterproof vibrator. She looked at it for several seconds like it was a snake and could bite her at any moment. She had purchased it two days earlier and had yet to work up the nerve to use it. When Melissa had told her she preferred girls, the revelation had sent Brandi into overdrive, and the idea of using the vibrator no longer seemed that foreign. Returning to the bathroom, she slipped into the steaming water and set about relieving tension on multiple levels.

“That’s one very unusual girl,” Karen said after Brandi had left. “I like her.”

“Yeah, me too,” Melissa sighed.

Karen laughed, “That’s obvious. She certainly had a strange reaction there. I mean she was obviously turned on but she looked terrified. Do you think she’s in denial about her sexuality?”

“No, I think there’s more to it than that,” Melissa said. “I don’t think it bothered her that she was attracted to another girl…I think it bothered her that she was turned on, period. It’s like she’s afraid of the very idea sex.”

“Maybe that explains her fighting,” Karen theorized. “Maybe she was raped and took self defense classes.”

“You didn’t see her in that alley, Karen,” Melissa said. “Those moves were like something from a martial arts movie. I think if she had wanted to, she could have killed those guys with out breaking a sweat.”

Melissa drained her glass of wine and then rose from her chair. She said good night to Karen and then went back into the house. As soon as she entered she could hear Brandi, and as she made her way up the stairs the sounds of her moans and cries of pleasure grew increasingly louder.

“Well, maybe she’s not that afraid of sex,” Melissa giggled as she entered her bedroom. She had a strong feeling it was going to be very interesting getting to know Brandi.

After her bath, Brandi stared at herself in the mirror for a long time. She heard Melissa and then Karen drift off to sleep, and decided she would take a walk. She had a lot to think about.

The rest of the quote from Sun Tzu came to mind, ‘If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle’.

She wondered if she would ever know either. Worse, she wondered if they were one and the same.

CHAPTER 18

“Good morning, Susan, did you sleep well?” Amanda Breton asked as Susan Covington joined her in the dining room for breakfast. She was beginning her fourth day at the estate and was beginning to think she could get used to the lifestyle very easily.

“Very well, and good morning to you, too, Amanda,” Susan said smiling. “I got an email from Brandi last night. She received the initial funds and is very excited about the trust. She is also extremely curious as to whom her mysterious benefactor is, but I respected your wish to remain anonymous for the time being.”

“It’s not modesty or anything like that,” Amanda told her. “I just don’t want to add to the stress that is already on her.”

“I think it would make her more comfortable knowing where the money is coming from,” Susan told her gently.

“I suppose you’re right,” Amanda replied after considering it for a moment. “You may tell her the next time you email her. How is she doing if you don’t mind my asking?”

Susan sighed and said, “I am a bit concerned about her.”

She went on to tell Amanda what Brandi had related to her in her last email; the full details of her ‘night out’ in LA and the hijacking of Arnie’s truck.

“The hijacking doesn’t concern me so much,” Susan admitted. “Of course every time she does something like that she risks exposure, but Brandi is going to take action in a situation like that; it’s just her nature to do so. But going out and looking for a fight, well, I feared that she might do something like that.”

“Why is that?” Amanda asked.

“Brandi is still fighting a battle inside,” Susan said. “She’s fighting both the artificially programmed sexual desire and the naturally programmed feminine mentality. The fight was an attempt to redirect those feelings and it very nearly backfired on her. I’m afraid that the more she resists the more the programming will assert itself, and eventually it will overwhelm her.”

“And if that happens?”

“She could very well become exactly what she is afraid she will become; a virtual slave to that programming.”

“I can only imagine what turmoil it is causing within her.” Amanda said sadly.

“It doesn’t have to be that way though,” Susan told her. “Everything I have read concerning Genomorphs in the Forerunner files indicates that while they were certainly very sensual women, they were not slaves to their sensuality. But they had accepted the gender change willingly, not had it forced on them. Brandi must accept that she is now a woman and learn to embrace that. If she can do that, the programming will not fight to ‘convert’ her.”

“I thought she had accepted that she is female?”

“No, Brandi accepted, pretty much from the start, that her body is female,” Susan corrected. “She still has to make the leap to accepting that she is female.”

“Do you think she will?” Amanda asked as Gretchen brought in breakfast for the two women. Susan had been told that she could speak freely in front of the staff.

“I think she is beginning to,” Susan said. “Immediately after the transformation Brandi was very much a forty year old man in a young woman’s body. But she may have made the first step that night in LA. She actually dressed like a girl. Yes, she did it to lure her ‘playmates’ out, but it was a step in the right direction. She even wore makeup, though she said she ended up looking like a prostitute, which probably fit the image she was going for anyway.

“She is beginning to develop a curiosity about the young woman she has become. She’s starting to explore exactly what that means, which of course leads to conflict with her memories as a man. Still, it’s the result I was desperately hoping for; the one thing that could not happen as long as she was confined to the lab. She was safe there, without a need to explore her new femininity. Now she must if she hopes to fit in to the world around her.”

“It sounds like she really has more than the male/female duality to deal with,” Amanda remarked. “It’s very much like having multiple personalities from the sound of it.”

“That’s a pretty accurate description,” Susan agreed. “I believe she has to deal with issues the Forerunners never intended. When they created a Genomorph, it was from a willing person.”

Susan grew very quiet as she toyed with her omelet.

“It wasn’t your fault, Susan,” Amanda said gently.

“I disagree,” Susan said bitterly. “I let my ambition blind me. There should have been more testing and research, years more, before we attempted to use the machine on a person.”

“If you let anything blind you it was your compassion and desire to help someone who had come to mean very much to you,” Amanda countered. “Your heart was pure. And if you made a mistake, then learn from it and move on. Blaming yourself will not help Brandi.”

CHAPTER 19

Dear Mom,

Do you believe in love at first sight? I met someone last night, a girl named Melissa. Three goons were attacking her in an alley and of course you know me. Don’t worry I didn’t hurt them too much.

I feel something when I look at Melissa…it’s more than just sexual attraction, much more. I felt it from the moment I first saw her. She’s not very big, about five six, but she was not going to go down without a fight. Then when we got back to her house and she told me she’s a lesbian…well I had to take a long hot bath and I finally broke in the vibrator I bought. It was definitely interesting. The feeling of having it inside me was incredible. The only problem is now I find myself thinking more of what it will be like with the real thing.

Could it be that even though I am programmed to be bisexual, that I still retain a preference for women? Even in the few days I have been out in the world I have had to fend off plenty of advances from men, and it is by no means easy. But I know that if Melissa were to make a pass at me I wouldn’t be able to resist, and that adds another level of concern. How can I ever know for sure if it’s me or just my programming that is causing these feelings?

The oddest thing about her is she seems very familiar to me. I have searched my memory though and I am sure I never met her before. Of course it would have had to be as Brandon, and it has been years since I was in California. But I can’t shake the feeling that there is something familiar about her.

Her roommate Karen is really nice too. She’s a bit more reserved than Melissa though in no way any less spirited.

I don’t know what I’m going to do. They are looking for a roommate and I am looking for a place to live. I’ve spent the whole night walking up and down the beach, trying to come to a decision. As I sit here looking out on the ocean as the first rays of the sun hit it from the east, I think I could really fall in love with this place. Actually I already have…

Bye for now

Brandi

The sun was well up in the sky when Brandi returned to the house. Melissa was seated at the dining room table, drinking a cup of coffee and browsing through the morning paper as Brandi entered. She looked up and smiled when she heard the door open.

“Have you been out all night?” Melissa asked as Brandi walked in. “I looked in on you when I got up and it didn’t look like you had slept in your bed.”

“I don’t really sleep that much and I had a lot of thinking to do,” Brandi said. “How’s your face?”

“It hurts like hell,” Melissa replied. Brandi stepped over to her, lifting Melissa’s face and gently touching her left cheek. “Karen’s getting dressed right now so she can take me to the ER.”

“You might have a fractured cheek bone,” Brandi said, a look of concern on her face. Melissa’s left eye was now swollen shut and she was obviously in a great deal of discomfort.

“It’s good that you’re having it looked at…”

Brandi cut her words short as she felt a tingling sensation in her fingers; the same sensation she felt when her body was healing. She started to pull her hand away but then saw that the swelling was decreasing. As she watched, Melissa’s eye slowly opened and the discoloration decreased significantly.

Melissa felt the same pleasant tingling sensation, and in seconds the pain in her face was gone. The pressure seemed to ease and she realized she could now see through her left eye.

“Wow, it doesn’t hurt anymore!” Melissa exclaimed, her hand flying to her cheek. It was still a bit tender but the swelling had obviously gone down considerably. Her own eyes widened and she bolted out of her chair, rushing to the bathroom in the back hall.

She was gone for several minutes, and when she returned, Brandi was sitting at the table with a sullen expression on her face.

So much for worrying about when I tell them, she thought bitterly. How the hell did I do that?

Melissa said nothing as she returned to her seat, just stared at Brandi expectantly.

“What’s going on?” Karen asked. She had emerged from her bedroom just as Melissa came out of the bathroom. In answer, Melissa turned her face so Karen could see the left side. There was still some swelling and redness, but the injury was significantly healed.

“Brandi touched it and …,” Melissa said, not sure how to describe what had happened. She and Karen both turned to look at their new friend.

“I didn’t know I could do that,” Brandi said quietly. “You better both have a seat, this is gonna take some explaining.”

Over the next thirty minutes Brandi told them her story. She gave them the whole truth; the mission in Iraq that had left Brandon scarred and crippled; the offer from Susan, everything about who she had been and how she had become the person she was now. By the time she finished she was struggling to keep her tears in.

Melissa was silent for a moment, and Brandi buried her face in her hands. She was hoping she had not just made a terrible mistake, afraid that they would ask her to leave. Then she felt a gentle touch, and Melissa pulled her hands away and then stroked her face.

“Oh Brandi…I knew there was something about you but I had no idea…”

Brandi pressed her face into Melissa’s hand, craving the contact, and then Melissa rose, knelt before her and pulled her into a tight embrace. Karen joined them and they held her as she cried herself out.

Finally, they separated and when Brandi looked into Melissa’s face she saw a strange expression there. Karen looked stunned, but then who could blame her.

“There’s one more thing you need to know,” Brandi said. “The day before I came to LA…I killed a man.”

She told them about the hijacking of Arnie’s truck and then paused a moment before saying, “I understand if you want me to leave.”

“No, no, not at all,” Melissa assured her. “I was just thinking that my whole world view has just been radically altered. Yesterday, I had this neat little picture of the world and now it’s totally changed. It’s like that movie ‘Men in Black’, when Tommy Lee Jones tells Will Smith, ‘imagine what you’ll know tomorrow’.”

At the mention of that particular movie Brandi stiffened noticeably, and Melissa’s mouth formed an O.

“I guess that movie isn’t as funny to you anymore, since you have the real thing after you,” Karen remarked.

“Yes, I do, and that’s why you both have to be very certain about this,” Brandi said with a deadly seriousness to her voice. “These people aren’t going to pull out a ‘flashy thing’ and erase your memory if they come. At best they would lock you away somewhere and at worst they…they…”

“They’ll kill us,” Melissa said, and then she reached out and caressed Brandi’s cheek once more.   There was a look of fiery determination in her eyes. “Then let’s just make sure they don’t find you, because I swear they’ll have to drag you away over my dead body.”

Brandi looked from Melissa to Karen, who nodded her head and put her hand on Brandi’s shoulder.

“Dammit, now I’m gonna cry again!” Brandi said.

CHAPTER 20

Susan logged into the secure email account Ryan had set up for her to see if there was a message from Brandi and instead found one from Ryan himself.

You need to see this!

Ryan

“Damn you, Ryan, if they catch you doing this…” Susan muttered under her breath as she opened the attached file. She had tried to get Ryan to leave the project when she did, but he had insisted that he could be of more use on the inside.

The file was additional information that had been deciphered, pertaining to the Genomorph Protocol. More specifically it described in some detail exactly how the machine transformed the subject.

They already knew that the Forerunner machine used the glowing purple plasma to affect its repairs. The plasma’s energy was able to alter the subject in a variety of ways when applied over a period of time. Simple repairs, even something as major as restoring a severed limb, took relatively little of the energy.

By applying slightly more of the energy, the machine could affect genetic repairs. Genetic errors, whether due to birth defects, age or some kind of damage, could be completely erased. The machine, which the report said was called a Genetic Manipulation Unit, was capable of removing years of aging, as evidence by Brandi.

To cause more radical change, such as altering the subject’s gender, the machine applied a large dose of the energy. Because the dose was so large, the subject’s cell structure remained saturated with the energy for a period of many years, making a basic change of gender long term. To attempt another gender modification too soon would destabilize the subject’s genetic structure, with horrific, and likely fatal, results.

Then, there was the Genomorph Protocol, which saturated the body with massive amounts of energy. The level was well beyond the point at which the subject’s genetic structure was destabilized, and that destabilization was part of the process. But it continued beyond altering the genetic structure, actually altering the Genomorph at the sub-atomic level. The very molecular structure was changed, making muscle, bone and sinew stronger. This massive dose of transforming energy was also what gave the Genomorph her hyper attuned senses and altered the structure of her brain, giving it the ability to process vast amounts of data at incredible speeds.

Once these alterations were completed, tiny cybernetic organisms were introduced into the subject. These were actual living machines, part organic and part mechanical, capable of reproducing and repairing themselves indefinitely. These nanocyborgs were charged with the same plasma the device used to affect genetic change, and each one carried the complete genetic pattern of the Genomorph within them. They acted to augment the Genomorph’s innate regenerative abilities, and as long as some of them remained functioning, any damage suffered would be repaired. The only way to destroy a Genomorph for certain was to inflict so much damage that the body and its nanocyborgs were utterly destroyed. That they had found records that spoke of the heavy rate of attrition among Genomorphs made it clear that the Forerunner’s enemies had possessed weapons capable of inflicting that kind of damage.

It was even possible for the Genomorph to introduce these nanocyborgs into another person to repair damage suffered. In small numbers the machines were unable to sustain themselves for long outside the Genomorph’s body and could not reproduce. If the injury was serious, the Genomorph could only stabilize the patient, as her built in self preservation programming prevented her from introducing too many nanocyborgs and thereby reducing her own ability to self-repair.

There was one instance in which the Genomorph could transfer a vast number of nanocyborgs. The data spoke of something that was translated as the ‘Bonding’. It was entered into by a Genomorph and a person they loved deeply, and was in a very real sense a wedding. The Genomorph in this case could introduce a massive number of nanocyborgs into the other person; nearly half of those currently in her body. This meant that until the missing machines were replaced, the Genomorph was dependent almost entirely on her innate regenerative powers, which while far greater than normal human healing was considerably slower than with a full compliment of nanocyborgs.

After this sharing, the nanocyborgs in the ‘bonded’ person were at the critical mass necessary to reproduce outside the Genomorph’s body, and they would begin making alterations in the person based on their programming. The data was incomplete and lacked any real details on this process, but the sketchy information indicated the result would be that the bonded individual would share the Genomorph’s accelerated ability to heal and with it their immunity to disease and aging. In effect, it allowed the Genomorph to fall in love, and never have to face watching the one they loved grow old and die.

Brandi would need to know about this, even though it appeared this ability could not be used accidentally. Still, she was going to be meeting people and making friends, maybe very close friends, and she needed to be informed of every aspect of her new body.

CHAPTER 21

“What are you smiling about?” Brandi asked as Melissa joined her on the deck. She had given her new friends some time to absorb everything.

“I was just doing a little research online. Can I bum a smoke? Oh, and Karen ran out for some groceries.”

Brandi extended her pack of Marlboros and Melissa took one, lighting it in the flame of Brandi’s Zippo lighter.

“I always fall back on smoking when I get stressed,” Melissa said as she exhaled a cloud of smoke.

“I’m sorry; I really don’t mean to add stress to your life.”

  “Oh, it’s not you sweetie,” Melissa said, and then amended her statement when Brandi gave her a dubious look. “Ok, it’s not just because of you. I was nearly gang raped last night remember. I hate feeling so helpless.”

“I know what you mean,” Brandi told her.

“You, helpless?” Melissa said, incredulous. “I saw you in action girl. You are anything but helpless.”

“That’s not when I feel it,” Brandi said. “I’m fine in a crisis or a fight; it’s the everyday stuff that makes me feel that way. Melissa, I don’t know how to be a girl. I know I need to start dressing more feminine, if for no other reason than it will make me blend in better. But I don’t know how. I know nothing about makeup or what to do with this hair.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine what you are going through,” Melissa said. “Having your gender changed would be bad enough, but all the other stuff you have to deal with is just overkill. Karen and I really want to help you if you’ll let us.”

“I need your help,” Brandi told her, “I’m through running from who I am. I can never go back, so I either have to move ahead or stand still.”

“Well, Karen and I were discussing that earlier,” Melissa said with a big smile. “When she gets back we’ll tell you what we have in mind.”

“Melissa, you have no idea how much this means to me,” Brandi said, her voice trembling. She fought to control her emotions and Melissa reached out and took her hand.

“Brandi, you don’t have to be afraid to cry,” she said. “We girls do that.”

Brandi nodded as she wiped her eyes, “That’s one of the things I’ve found easiest to adjust to. Just being able to let it out…but there’s still a part of me that wants to keep it all inside.”

“Hey, are you hungry?” Melissa asked, “We can whip up some scrambled eggs and sausage.”

“That would be great,” Brandi said. “Why don’t you let me fix breakfast? I’m a pretty good cook but I warn you; since I was changed I eat a lot.”

“Well, it’s a good thing Karen is getting groceries,” Melissa laughed. “If you want to cook, have at it. I confess I am pretty inept when it comes to the kitchen.”

Karen returned just as Brandi finished preparing their breakfast of scrambled eggs and sausage. Melissa and Karen put the groceries away as Brandi set the food out on the table, and then the three sat down to eat.

“Brandi, these eggs are fantastic!” Melissa exclaimed. “What did you do?”

“I just added a few spices. A little dill and marjoram and thyme,” Brandi said.

“We have spices?” Karen said.

“They’re kinda old,” Brandi admitted.

“They were Mom’s I’m sure,” Melissa said. She toyed with her food for a moment and then looked at Brandi.

“Does it ever get easier?” She asked.

“Yes,” Brandi said. “The hurt never goes away completely, but it does get easier.”

“It must have been hard for you, being so far away,” Melissa said.

Brandi gave her a startled look and Melissa smiled, “I told you I had been doing some research on the internet. I looked up Brandon Anderson.”

“I’m on the internet?” Brandi said.

“Of course you are,” Karen laughed. “There are dozens of sites devoted to the Medal of Honor.”

“I hope you don’t mind,” Melissa said. “I just wanted to know a little about your past and I was afraid you might be uncomfortable talking about it.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Brandi said. “I don’t really mind talking about it either. It was hard when my parents died. I felt a lot of guilt, like maybe if I had been there I could have prevented it.”

“You know that’s not true,” Melissa said.

“I do now,” Brandi said. “They were just sitting there watching TV when those punks kicked in the front door and shot them. There was no reason; it was totally senseless. If I had been there I would have been killed too most likely. But grief isn’t a rational process, it’s an emotional one.

“Maybe it was fate…that was what made me decide to become a SEAL. I wanted to be out there facing the bad guys, not standing on the deck of a ship.”

“You didn’t tell us you were such a cutie,” Karen giggled, deciding the subject needed to be lightened up. Then she sighed sadly, “Such a waste.”

Brandi looked confused once more and said, “You mean your not…”

“Oh no!” Karen laughed. “I did a bit of experimenting when I started college but I just like men way too much.”

“Way too much,” Melissa echoed, grinning. “Be careful, Brandi, she could rub off on you.”

Brandi had a good laugh at that saying, “More likely I would rub off on her.”

They ate in silence for a bit but Melissa kept looking at Brandi. It was obvious she had more questions and just as obvious she did not know how to ask them.

“You can’t offend me, Melissa,” Brandi told her. “It may not be a comfortable subject but pretending it isn’t part of me won’t make it go away.”

“Well, I was just wondering what it’s like,” Melissa said. “I mean what do you feel?”

“I don’t know if I can describe it properly, but I’ll try,” Brandi said. “I’m basically aroused all the time. That is not as bad as it sounds, because I can control it. But when someone shows interest in me…when a guy comes on to me, then the programming seems to kick it up.”

“That must be pretty horrible,” Karen said. “So any guy that hits on you sends you into overdrive?”

Brandi thought for a moment before answering, “Not exactly. I do have my standards, thankfully. If I don’t find the person attractive it’s not bad. And if they come on like a total jerk it’s a big turn off.”

“Is it the same feeling for men and women?” Melissa asked.

“There is a difference,” Brandi said, hesitantly. “With men it’s like a need, a very powerful need…and it scares me. It’s like being very thirsty, I mean stuck in the desert thirsty, and all you have to drink is some nasty, smelly water. You know you have to drink it, but you really don’t want to.”

“Now there’s a pleasant analogy,” Karen quipped.

“Sorry,” Brandi grinned. “My experiences in survival training brought that out. With women it is definitely different. There is the same need but there is also a very strong desire. I guess there is enough of Brandon left in me to make me want to be with a woman, and that added to the programming makes the feelings more intense with women. This is the first time I’ve been around a girl I knew was…attainable though.”

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” Melissa asked. When Brandi hesitated answering, she smiled softly and said, “You can be honest, sweetie.”

“I wouldn’t, like, call it uncomfortable,” Brandi said, feeling a bit flushed. “Maybe too comfortable is better. Like, so comfortable it becomes uncomfortable. I don’t know…it’s very confusing. And I like you too, and that makes it…well…more intense.”

“I like you too Brandi, but you don’t have to worry about me coming on to you,” Melissa said. “I can’t even imagine what you must go through. Men and women are such emotionally different creatures, and to have a woman’s emotions just dumped on you…I think it would drive most men mad.”

Even as she spoke Brandi could feel it building. She could clearly sense the reactions of both her friends. With Karen there was curiosity and sympathy, but no trace of arousal. From Melissa, however, she could sense an elevated heartbeat and a slight rise in her body temperature. She could smell the scent of her arousal, the chemical signals her body sent out that were lost to a normal person. The reaction only served to heighten her own feelings.

“Do I need to get a bucket of cold water?” Karen asked, and they all laughed.

“Ok now I have a question, and then we’ll stop grilling you,” Karen said. “I was wondering about what you felt when you got behind that machinegun. I mean did you think about the possibility you could get hurt or die? What gives someone the strength to do that?”

“It was love,” Brandi told her without hesitation. “Yes, I knew there was a good chance I was going to die; in fact I expected to die.   It was really a miracle that I survived. But it was really all about love. In combat you develop a strong bond, especially in an elite group like the SEALs. We call it camaraderie or the warrior bond or any of a dozen other things, but I can look at it from a new perspective now, from the emotional view point of a woman.

“There’s another quote from Sun Tzu, ‘Regard your soldiers as your children, and they will follow you into the deepest valleys; look upon them as your own beloved sons, and they will stand by you even unto death’. I loved those men; they were my brothers, they were my children, and they would have stood by me to the end. But I had to get them out of there. And if getting them out of there required my life then I was willing….I was happy to pay that price. So I made the decision to stay and give them the time to get away.”

“I wish I was that brave.” Melissa said after a moment.

“Don’t you sell yourself short,” Brandi replied. “I saw you; you fought those goons in the alley. You never gave in, even though the odds were badly against you.”

“That was fear,” Melissa said. “I had this flashback in the alley last night. When I was eleven I almost died. We were in San Diego visiting my dad’s brother and we went to the beach. I wandered away from my parents and then ended up caught in a riptide.”

Brandi stared at Melissa as she related her story, a story that had triggered a memory from Brandon’s past with crystal clarity. Suddenly she knew why Melissa seemed so familiar.

“But someone pulled you out,” Brandi said in a stunned voice. “He was jogging along the beach and heard you screaming. He swam out and got to you as you were going under and pulled you back to shore.”

“That’s right!” Melissa exclaimed. “They said he forced the water out of my lungs and did rescue breathing until I started breathing on my own. Then the paramedics showed up and, well, I never even really saw him…”

Melissa stopped and stared, her mouth open. It took Karen a moment longer to put the pieces together and then she too looked at Brandi in stunned amazement.

“There is no way!” Melissa exclaimed.

“I knew there was something familiar about you,” Brandi grinned. “I just couldn’t place your face…that was almost fourteen years ago. You’ve certainly grown up.”

“This is too weird,” Karen said slowly. “I mean what are the odds…with everything you’ve been through…”

“What are the odds that I would sneak into the sleeper of Arnie’s truck?” Brandi asked. “Like you said, so much has happened to me, so much that is beyond belief…what’s one more?”

“I guess being transformed into a woman is enough to make you take things in stride but I am still…I just can’t believe it!” Melissa said.

  

“Well, maybe it is fate,” Karen offered. “Maybe you two were supposed to be together. I mean just look at it this way, fourteen years ago Brandon saved Melissa’s life. Then one day Melissa realizes she likes girls, not guys, and here we are fourteen years later and Brandon is now Brandi and nineteen years younger.”

“Actually twenty-three years younger,” Brandi said sheepishly. “Biologically I’m seventeen.”

“Well I think age is definitely relative with you,” Karen said.

Brandi turned to Melissa and put her hand on her arm.

“Don’t let the fact that you were afraid in the alley fool you,” she said. “Fear and courage go hand in hand. All of us feel fear. In the end, courage is just finding the strength to overcome that fear and not let it overcome you.”

They finished breakfast and cleared the table, loading the dishes into the dishwasher. Brandi saw that most of the groceries Karen had picked up were frozen entrees and such, and decided she would do some shopping of her own. Brandon had always enjoyed cooking and she felt good thinking she could contribute something useful to the household.

“Now are you ready to see what else I picked up?” Karen asked with a big grin. “I had to guess your size but I’m pretty good about that.”

“Once we get you fixed up we can go do some serious shopping,” Melissa added.

“How fixed up?” Brandi asked, a sick feeling growing in her stomach.

“Nothing extreme,” Karen assured her. “I think you’ll like what I got. And I got some basic makeup.”

Brandi sighed, “All right, let’s get it over with.”

“Oooh nice attitude,” Melissa laughed. “I know it’s hard for you sweetie, and you can tell us to back off anytime you feel uncomfortable.”

The clothes were not bad at all, a pair of black military style cargo pants and a white button down shirt; very similar to what Brandi had been wearing. They were cut for a woman though, the pants were much slimmer fitting and were capri length, and the blouse likewise was tighter and had three quarter length sleeves.

“I got a pair of flats and some pumps with low heels too,” Karen said.

Brandi considered the shoes for a moment before saying, “Well hell, might as well jump in the deep end and wear the heels. I’ve actually got some boots with four inch heels, but I’ve only worn them once.”

“So you have tried going out in girl’s clothes before?” Melissa asked.

“Like I said only once,” Brandi explained. “My first night here in LA I was very restless, sexually and, well, I’m made for other kinds of action too. So I got some sexy clothes and even some makeup, which I totally made of mess of using. Then I went to this little park and trolled for some trouble. I got in a fight with six gang bangers and nearly ended up having sex with one of them right there…I totally lost it for a bit.”

“That is really wild,” Karen remarked as Brandi slipped off her shirt and bra. “Would you like us to step outside?”

“I don’t mind if you stay,” Brandi said. “Modesty was not part of my programming.”

The clothes looked good on her, and were not so different from what she was used to wearing that she felt too uncomfortable. They did emphasize her curves much more, and with the two inch black pumps and her exposed calves her legs looked very long and sensuous.

Once she was dressed Karen did her makeup, telling her that for the sake of time she would do it all and later they could coach her as she applied it herself. She did not let Brandi look at herself as she worked, waiting until she was finished to turn her to face the mirror over the vanity.

“Wow,” Brandi said softly. She looked the same and yet different. Karen had done a marvelous job, and her face looked more mature.

“You don’t need a lot of makeup unless you’re trying to look dramatic,” Karen told her. “Your complexion is absolutely perfect; but a little makeup never hurts.”

“You look incredible, Brandi,” Melissa told her with a big smile. “How do you feel?”

“Fine,” Brandi said, still staring at her reflection.

“Uh huh, and how do you really feel?”

“Ok, I am, like, totally terrified,” Brandi admitted.

“Let’s go out on the balcony and we can tell you what we have planned,” Melissa suggested.

Brandi picked up her cigarettes and lighter from the night stand and started to stick them in one of the cargo pockets on her pants when she noticed her friends giving her a disapproving look.

“What?” she asked.

Karen only smiled and pulled a black canvas purse from the bag the clothes had been in. Brandi sighed and took it, putting her cigarettes and lighter and other items in it. It was a casual type purse with lots of zippered and Velcro secured compartments to organize everything. Once she had the purse filled, including a few essential makeup items Melissa and Karen insisted she needed, she slipped the strap over her right shoulder, turned and stuck her tongue out at them.

“Satisfied?” she asked.

They left Brandi’s room, crossed the hall and entered Melissa’s bedroom. It was larger than the living room downstairs. Brandi noticed among the other furnishings a treadmill and a very elaborate electronic keyboard. She had noticed the night before that there was an upright piano in the living room.

“Do you play, Melissa?” she asked, gesturing towards the keyboard, and then smacked her head and answered her own question. “Duh, blonde moment. You’re working on your masters in music.”

“Yes, piano is my main instrument,” Melissa laughed. “I also play guitar and cello, plus a few others.”

“Brandon played the guitar,” Brandi said as they stepped out onto the balcony. “He had a Yamaha twelve string acoustic.”

“He?” Melissa asked. “That’s the first time I’ve heard you refer to Brandon like he was someone else.”

“It feels like that sometimes,” Brandi admitted. “More right now than ever before. Maybe it’s the clothes.”

“We saw a picture on a website of you playing on stage,” Karen said as they sat down. Brandi lit a cigarette and handed the pack to Melissa.

“That was probably at Underway,” Brandi said. “It’s a club near the base in Norfolk that caters to the navy crowd.”

“We have a band,” Karen told her. “I sing lead and Melissa plays keyboards. Our friends Cyndi, Renee and Ami are the rest of the band. We’re called the Post-Modern Bimbos.”

Brandi began laughing so hard she could not speak for several seconds. When she at last found her voice she said, “They sound like my kind of girls.”

“We’re getting together tomorrow,” Melissa said. “You should come and meet the gang. Being around other women can only help you adapt.”

“That sounds like fun,” Brandi said.

“Well, I’m sure you’re anxious to hear what we have planned for you today,” Karen said with a wicked grin.

“Please be gentle with me,” Brandi begged.

“No promises,” Karen told her.

CHAPTER 22

Doctor Barbara Currant, the new head of research for the Forerunner project, looked up from the stack of reports on her desk at the knock on her office door. She was an attractive woman of thirty, though she looked much younger, and though very young for such a position she was one of the leading researchers in the world in genetics. And other than Susan Covington no one knew more about the Forerunners and their ability to manipulate genetics.

“Come in Mr. Sanders.”

The door opened and Ryan Sanders, lead programmer, entered the office carrying a file folder. He took the chair she gestured to and waited for her to speak.

“I’m very busy Mr. Sanders, please make this brief,” Currant said curtly.

“Of course Dr. Currant,” Ryan said, fidgeting nervously. “I’ve been working on the reconstruction of the Genomorph Protocol and I found something disturbing.”

Ryan offered the folder to her, and Barbara took it, scanning the pages within for several seconds before looking up.

“I’m a geneticist not a programmer, what exactly is this?”

Ryan rose from the chair and moved around behind the desk so he could show her what he was speaking of.

“These are lines of undamaged code I was able to recover from the program,” Ryan said, gesturing to the pages. “Only about thirty percent was actually lost, so there is a lot of code still existing.”

Ryan flipped to another page of code, “These are also recovered code lines, but there is something wrong with them. There are errors. The Forerunner programming language is very complex, and they are errors that would be easy enough to make if someone was not one hundred percent fluent in it.”

“So you are saying the program was flawed from the start?”

“No, I’m saying someone altered the program,” Ryan told her. “These lines come from the portion of the code that governed behavioral modifications. These lines were intended to remove the subject’s free will, make them totally obedient.”

“I’m not sure I follow you Mr. Sanders.”

“Someone wanted Brandi to be a robot!” Ryan said angrily. “If this had worked, she would have lost the ability to do anything except what she was ordered…the perfect soldier in someone’s eyes.”

“But how could anyone modify a program no one knew existed?” Currant asked.

“That’s just it, someone did know it existed!” Ryan shouted. “And if they knew it existed, and made these alterations, then they knew that Brandon would trigger it. This was done intentionally!”

“Calm down Mr. Sanders,” Currant ordered. “Please sit down.”

Ryan did as she asked. He knew he had to keep his emotions in check. He was far from sure that he could trust this woman, but he was all alone on the project with Susan gone.

“So these errors prevented the added programming from taking effect?” Currant asked.

“Actually no,” Ryan told her. “The errors are more or less cosmetic. They are just what caused me to notice the addition. The syntax and flow of the Forerunner’s computer language is very elegant and concise, these additions were clumsy and tedious, but there were no errors that would have prevented the program from working.”

“So why didn’t it work?”

“Because I believe it violated, conflicted, with other programming,” Ryan said hesitantly.

Dr. Currant looked at Ryan intently for a moment, “You mean Brandon’s own genetic programming, the warrior genes.”

“It makes sense,” Ryan said. “Look at the attributes we know of that the Forerunner’s prized in a Genomorph; a sense of duty, loyalty, resolve, self-sacrifice and compassion. The very type of person they were looking for, what they saw as the ultimate expression of a true warrior, would totally reject the idea of blind obedience and enslavement. The control program failed because a love of freedom is encoded in Brandi’s very genes. And ultimately, that’s why she ran. She knew what they intended and it went against everything she is.”

“And with such a warrior, they never had to fear their power being abused,” Currant said. “In fact, the very presence of Genomorphs would provide a strong incentive to maintain a free society.”

“A pretty powerful incentive,” Ryan agreed.

“Why did you come to me with this?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” Ryan admitted. “But I had to tell someone. I’m out on a limb…you were brought in to replace Susan and for all I know you are part of this too. It had to come down from the top.”

“I suspect that you don’t really care about being out on a limb,” Currant commented, leaning back in her chair and regarding Ryan intently. “You’ve made it no secret that you share Dr. Covington’s views on the way Brandi was handled.”

Ryan looked sharply at Currant. No one, other than himself, ever referred to Brandi by name. They preferred to keep it clinical, calling her the Genomorph, as though that could distance them from what had been done.

“I like Brandi,” Ryan said slowly. “And though I only knew him a few days, I liked Brandon too. He didn’t deserve this. What really sickens me is all they had to do was ask. Brandon hated what his life had become. If he had been offered the chance to be healed, even if it meant becoming a woman, he would have taken it. He would have worked for them.”

“I suspect you’re right, he would have done as he was asked, for a time,” Currant replied. “Until he was asked to do something that conflicted with his convictions. Then he would have rebelled, just as the Forerunners intended.”

“That’s called freedom of choice,” Ryan said bitterly. “It’s supposed to be what this country is all about.”

“Perhaps, at any rate you are correct; this would have come down from the highest level,” Barbara said. “And as such my options are extremely limited. I thank you for bringing this to my attention.”

“So, what do I do now?”

“What you have been doing,” Currant told him. “Don’t draw any attention to yourself and under no circumstances speak of this to anyone. You are invaluable to the research here, Mr. Sanders. That you caught this demonstrates that you know more about the programming language of the Forerunners than any other. But that won’t protect you if the power behind this decides you are a threat. Remember that.”

“All right, Dr. Currant, I will.”

Ryan rose and walked towards the door. As he was about to open it, Currant spoke once more.

“And Ryan, please be very careful. I would hate to see anything happen to you,” Barbara said.

After Ryan left Barbara studied the pages of code and smiled. It was deliciously ironic. The organization had sought to create the ultimate weapon; assassin, spy, saboteur, unstoppable and perfectly controlled. Instead, they had very likely created the instrument of their own destruction.

*****

Brandi looked at the display window of the shop and swallowed. The place was called Nikki’s, and the mannequins in the window were clothed in a variety of lacy, ultra feminine lingerie.

“Breathe, sweetie,” Melissa whispered as they entered the shop.

Brandi drew in a deep breath and said, “I don’t know if I can do this.”

Suddenly, Brandi felt as though the room was closing in around her. She began backing out the door, shaking her head.

“Like, no way! I…I can’t. This is, like, so totally wrong…I don’t belong here.”

Melissa gently placed her hands on Brandi’s shoulders and gave her a gentle shake as she looked into her eyes.

“You can do this,” she said gently. “It’s there inside you, Brandi, the courage to overcome the fear.”

Brandi bit her lip and nodded slowly, allowing Melissa to pull her back into the shop.

“Just try to relax,” Karen told her. “Nikki and her girls are really nice. You even know one of her employees already.”

“Oh really?” Brandi asked. “Um, like who? You guys are the only people I know in LA.”

“Me, silly,” Karen said, putting her arm around Brandi’s shoulder. “You really are freaked out about this, aren’t you?”

“On so many levels,” Brandi nodded. “My brain, like, totally shuts down when I get this way. So you really work here?”

“Three nights a week and every other weekend,” Karen said. “I also get most of my lingerie here. I’m not as hard to fit as you, but the double D stuff you can get off the rack in most stores is just plain ugly.”

Brandi looked around the shop, her eyes wide. There were racks of lingerie of all types, all very beautiful. She had no idea what to call most of it; she thought of lingerie in terms of bras and panties, and had never realized there were so many different kinds of each.

“She’s gonna think I’m retarded or something,” Brandi whined. “I don’t even know what most of this stuff is for!”

“I’ve got it covered,” Karen assured her.

As they approached the counter a middle aged woman emerged from the back room. Her hair was silver but her face had a youthful appearance that looked like it was from years of careful care and not surgical aid. She smiled broadly when she saw the three young women.

“Karen, Melissa, so good to see you both,” she said. “And who is this lovely young lady?”

“This is our new roommate, Brandi,” Melissa said.

“A pleasure to meet you, Brandi,” Nikki said with a disarming smile. “I am Nicole Aubrey but please call me Nikki. Welcome to my shop.”

Brandi greeted Nikki and smiled. The older woman’s demeanor helped to put her more at ease but she still felt terribly out of place. Every remaining vestige of the man she had been was screaming that she did not belong in this place.

Melissa pulled Brandi off to show her some of items while Karen remained at the counter. When they were across the shop, she leaned close and spoke to Nikki in a low voice.

“Brandi is a bit of a special case,” Karen told her. “She was raised by her dad and older brother. Her dad was kind of strict and overprotective, and he really didn’t know what to do with a little girl. Mostly, she had to wear hand me downs from her brother and the only bras she has ever owned are sports bras. Now she’s out on her own and she has a trust fund from an aunt who died, but it’s like she doesn’t know how to be a girl. And she’s a little skittish about all this.”

“Oh, that is a shame!” Nikki lamented. “A girl that gorgeous simply needs to be wearing pretty things.”

“That’s why we’re taking her shopping,” Karen smiled. “We figured it was best to start at the foundation though. And with her figure she’s not going to find anything nice at the mall.”

“Well, let me get her in back and have a look and take her measurements.” Nikki said. “I do hope that having Brandi as your roommate will allow you and Melissa to quit those dreadful bar jobs.”

“I put in my notice today,” Karen smiled. “Melissa did too and her jerk boss told her not to bother coming in on Monday, which is just as well.”

Melissa and Brandi returned and Brandi seemed a bit more at ease. Of course she had heard every word that was exchanged between the two while they were gone, so she was prepared to play along with the story.

Nikki led them into the back, where a young woman with bright red hair styled in a pixie cut was unpacking items and hanging them on rolling racks to move out onto the sales floor. She saw Karen and smiled.

“Hiya, Karen, enjoying the weekend off?” she asked. She had a very freckled face and a cherubic look to her, and her hazel eyes twinkled with a mischievous glint.

“It’s been fun so far, Berni,” Karen replied. “This is my friend, Brandi.”

Brandi smiled shyly and Bernie giggled, “You’re really pretty, Brandi. Nikki will have a field day dressing you up.”

“Thank you, Berni,” Brandi said. “That’s an unusual name for a girl isn’t it?”

“It’s short for Ibernia,” Berni explained. She had an even more girlish voice than Brandi, and she tended to talk very fast.   “It’s Irish, and it means ‘from Ireland’, which is kinda funny ‘cause I’m from Santa Monica.”

“Ibernia, be a dear and watch the counter,” Nikki said.

“Sure thing, Nikki! Nice to meet you, Brandi.” Berni said and practically skipped out of the back room.

“She’s very cheerful,” Brandi remarked.

“Berni is always like that.” Karen said. “She has a bit ‘o the leprechaun in her I think.”

“Well, let’s see what we have here,” Nikki said. “Brandi if you don’t mind I need you to remove your blouse and bra. If that makes you uncomfortable I can get the measurements while you are clothed, but it helps me fit you better if I can get a look at your body. Usually I would have you keep your bra on but that sports bra you’re wearing would throw the measurements off.”

“I’ll be fine, thank you,” Brandi assured her. “Is it all right if Melissa and Karen stay?”

“Whatever makes you comfortable, dear.”

Brandi removed her clothes until she was standing naked from the waist up. It amazed her that she could be so unnerved by entering the shop but standing there naked did not bother her at all. Even if the Genomorph programming had not left her with any sense of modesty regarding her body, she had endured enough examinations in her four months at the lab to have eliminated it anyway. Still, she fidgeted and gave the appearance that she was nervous to bolster the story Karen had spun.

Nikki quickly and professionally took Brandi’s measurements. The only truly uncomfortable moment was when Brandi gasped involuntarily as Nikki settled the tape measure over her nipples.

“It’s all right honey; no one has ever died from embarrassment yet,” Nikki told her.

After Nikki had her measurements she gave Brandi a robe to put on while she waited.

“You could go with a 36 F or G depending on the brand,” Nikki said. “With your bust an improperly fitted bra would be very uncomfortable.”

“Daddy tried but he just didn’t know what to do,” Brandi said shyly, playing her part. “I think he was kinda embarrassed ‘cause I got…well so big, so young.”

“I’m sure he meant well sweetheart,” Nikki said. “I’ll go pick out some nice items and be back shortly.”

“How are you holding up, kiddo?” Melissa asked when Nikki was gone.

“All right,” Brandi told her. “I’m just glad she took my reaction for surprise. Besides that jerk in the alley the only person who has ever touched my breasts is me, at least while I was conscious. It kinda caught me off guard.”

“If you’re up to it after we’re done shopping I’m sure I could line up some volunteers,” Karen said.

Brandi stuck her tongue out at her and said, “Thank you…not!”

Nikki returned a few minutes later with a selection of bras, panties and even several corsets and bustiers plus an assortment of garters and stockings. For the next hour and a half she tried on items and Nikki grilled her about the fit and feel of each, discarding those that were uncomfortable and setting those that felt good aside. When they were finished Brandi was wearing a new white lace underwire demi bra and matching panties under her clothes and had three bags full of additional lingerie.

“Do you participate in any high impact sports, Brandi?” Nikki asked as they were totaling up the purchases. Karen rolled her eyes and Melissa giggled.

“I jog and do martial arts,” Brandi said. She turned and glared at her friends before returning her attention to Nikki.

“Well I would recommend you get some sports bras from Enell,” Nikki said. “They will serve you far better than the one you were wearing. They don’t stock them in your size but they will custom make them for you.”

“Could you order half a dozen for me?” Brandi asked.

Nikki smiled and nodded, “Of course, dear. I’ll give you a call when they come in. If you like, I can also recommend some excellent custom dress shops. With your figure you will have to have any evening dresses and such custom made if you want them to fit properly.”

“Thank you, Nikki, that’s very kind of you.” Brandi said. “I don’t think I’ll need any formal wear any time soon but it wouldn’t hurt to have some options.”

“You never know, my dear,” Nikki said as she handed Brandi several business cards. “These are all personal friends of mine, and through them you can get anything from formal cocktail dresses to club wear. Just let them know I sent you and they will take good care of you.”

The three girls left the shop and began walking down the block to where Melissa’s Ford Escape was parked. Karen and Melissa watched Brandi for a few minutes and then both began giggling hysterically.

“What?” Brandi asked, looking down to see if she had come undone.

“You jiggle a lot more,” Karen said. “But you really look gorgeous. You just need one minor adjustment.”

They stopped and Karen unfastened the top two buttons on Brandi’s blouse and opening it up some.

Brandi looked down at the cleavage she was now displaying and said, “Oh wow.”

“I can’t believe you just spent nearly twelve hundred dollars on lingerie,” Melissa remarked.

“Hey, it’s all good,” Karen grinned. “I get credit for the commission.”

CHAPTER 23

Dear Mom,

  

I am glad we can use the email to communicate regularly now. I guess you have read my earlier diary entries that I sent. I am going to continue writing them - they are really helping me sort things out. Its just great knowing that you are getting to read them, almost like we are actually talking…almost.

I really like Melissa, and even though I’ve known her less than two days, it is already hard to imagine not having her in my life. I really think I am falling for her. Karen is great too. She reminds me a lot of you; very driven but very caring as well. Karen is working on her masters in political science, and it’s nice to be able to talk to her and not sound like a ditz. Really both of them are amazing. I mean here they were going to grad school and working two jobs. True, Melissa’s other job is as a teaching assistant, but she was putting in a nine hour day at the university and then working at the bar. Thankfully they have both been able to quit those jobs.

I guess I really shouldn’t be surprised that I am falling for another girl. After all I was a man for forty   years and I’ve only been a girl for four months. I know I am programmed to be bisexual, but I’m learning that there is a difference between sexual attraction and emotional attraction, and I believe it may be even more of a distinction for me. I have to admit that I enjoyed the attention I was getting from guys as we shopped, especially once I was properly dressed. But at the same time, I knew that what I was feeling for Melissa, and my pleasure at her obvious admiration for my new look, was different. It was deeper and far more intense.

I’m still dealing with knowing that she was that little girl I pulled from the water all those years ago. Do you believe in fate? I mean, look at my life since the transformation…the people who have helped me; Arnie, Melissa, Amanda Breton and of course you. If their paths had not crossed Brandon’s where would I be now? Of course if I had not been on that mission in Iraq I would not be who I am now…or would I? I wonder.

Shopping was definitely an experience, and after I got over my initial nervousness I really started enjoying it. I even enjoyed trying on all the clothes…I guess I am a bit of an exhibitionist. Ok, more than a bit.

By the time we were through the back of Melissa’s SUV was packed. I even picked up some bathing suits, mostly one pieces but Melissa and Karen insisted that I get a couple of bikinis as well. I think it will be a while before I wear them though, they didn’t really have anything for my…dimensions…and so they are pretty skimpy. Still I guess I have seen plenty of girls wearing less here so I would not draw anymore attention then I usually do. I miss the ocean and the long swims I used to take, kind of a part of being a SEAL. It will be nice to be able to do that again.

I am so lucky that I have Melissa and Karen to help me out. At first we tried to just go by what naturally appealed to me in the way of clothes. But when I just let myself go and picked something based on my first impression, I always went for the skimpiest, sexiest stuff. If I had been on my own…well let’s just say my wardrobe would have been interesting and would certainly have drawn plenty of attention my way.

In the end, Melissa and Karen kept me in check. I have a nice selection, mostly conservative, some sexy but tasteful outfits and a few down right racy ones. Hey, a girl’s gotta cut loose sometimes.

Well I have a makeup lesson scheduled, then we are going to take a walk along the boardwalk, and you know what? I’m actually looking forward to it.

Oh one more thing, I’m afraid Amanda Breton was not entirely truthful about our meeting. She had a son, fresh out of medical school, with her at the hospital, and she was very concerned for his safety.   If she had been alone, I suspect I would have had to throw her over my shoulder and carry her to the chopper. She is a good person, and a classy lady. Knowing we have her on our side makes me feel a lot better.

*****

“Are you sure you’ve never worn heels before today?” Melissa asked. They were walking along the boardwalk as the sun was starting to dip low towards the Pacific. It was just the two of them as Karen had told them she needed to work on her thesis. Melissa suspected that her friend was playing matchmaker. “You sure didn’t have trouble with those heels Karen got you.”

“Just the boots,” Brandi giggled. She had gone from the two inch heels Karen had gotten for her to a pair of white sandals with no heel for their walk. She was feeling more girlish than she had since the transformation, and she wondered if finally taking the plunge and dressing feminine had triggered something in her programming. Then again, perhaps it was just that the programming was backing off with her growing acceptance.

“It’s this body; it adapts and learns very quickly.” Brandi said. “You should have seen me the first time I got out of bed. The, ah, difference in weight distribution and the tendency of parts of me to bounce made me really awkward for a couple of days.”

“And how are you dealing with your outfit?”

Brandi looked down at her body. She was wearing a dark pink, mid length ruffled skirt and a white satin blouse with long bell sleeves. The outfit was not overly sexy, though the blouse had a v neck that revealed a good bit of cleavage, which was only emphasized by her new demi bra.

“It’s…different,” Brandi said carefully. “Wearing a skirt and stockings definitely feels strange. Not bad, just strange. And I’m still getting used to looking down and seeing my boobs so exposed. How does my makeup look?”

“You look gorgeous,” Melissa said, a bit shyly. “Your makeup is a little on the heavy side but it’s very good considering how little practice you’ve had. The question is how do you feel?”

“I feel really good,” Brandi said after a moment’s contemplation. “It’s like, I don’t know how to describe it exactly, almost a giddy feeling. I feel free, like I’m not trying to hide anymore. The biggest difference besides the skirt and stockings is not wearing a sports bra. I seem to be, um, bouncing a bit more than usual.

“Of course, there’s still this undercurrent of stark, raving terror. If I dwell on it, I can hear a voice in the back of my mind screaming, ‘What the hell are you doing!’ But there is a sense of relief too that outweighs the fear. I’ve fought this for months because I was afraid I would feel like this; I was afraid I would like it. But I think the only way I can really be at peace with who I am now is to be who I am.”

“So, what do you think about a trip to the salon this week?” Melissa suggested. “You could get your hair shortened and styled. Personally I love the way it looks but you have to be comfortable with it.”

Brandi touched her hair self consciously. Melissa had shown her how to form two braids on either side of her head in front of her ears, and then use the braids to wrap under her hair and around it, fastening the braids at the top with a pink butterfly shaped clip. The braids were long enough that they wrapped around several times, and it looked much more stylish than the simple scrunchies she had been using.

“Well, a style maybe, but getting it cut is pointless,” Brandi told her. “It would grow back out overnight. I have to admit I’ve gotten used to it now, and I do like the way it looks. Now that I know some tricks to styling it I think I’ll be fine.”

“Well, never underestimate what a day of pampering can do for you,” Melissa told her with a smile. “And you could really freak a manicurist out with those nails of yours.”

As they were walking, a young man passed by on a skateboard. He looked to be about eighteen and was very cute, and Brandi flashed him a big smile as she caught his eye. A moment after he passed there was a loud crash and a cry of surprise from behind them. Brandi and Melissa whirled around to see the young man sprawled on the ground after having run right into a trash receptacle. Brandi rushed over to where he lay, moving surprisingly fast in her heels and bouncing the whole time. Melissa just stood there laughing.

“Are you all right, honey?” Brandi asked sweetly, kneeling down beside his stunned form. “That was some header!”

“Uh yeah…yeah, I’m ok,” He stammered, his face red with embarrassment. Brandi helped him to his feet, feeling what was becoming a familiar desire spreading through her body.

“You need to be more careful, you could hurt yourself,” Brandi said seriously, wondering why Melissa was giggling beside her. “It’d be a shame to mess up such a cute face.”

“Yeah, I guess I should watch where I’m going,” He mumbled, blushing even more. “My name’s Kevin by the way.”

“I’m Brandi, and this is my friend Melissa,” Brandi told him. She clasped her hands behind her back and gave her head a shake, tossing her hair and making her breasts jiggle.

“Nice to meet you,” Kevin said, smiling as he began to recover his composure. “So you live around here Brandi? I don’t think I’ve seen you before and I’m sure I would have remembered.”

“Well, as a matter of fact….”

“Yes, we do live around here,” Melissa interrupted. “My friend just moved out here and I’m showing her the sights, which we really should get back to. Nice meeting you, Kevin, and try to watch where you’re going, ok?”

“Um, yeah, sure,” Kevin said. “Nice meeting you ladies, too. Maybe I’ll see you around Brandi.”

“Oh, I plan on being around for a while honey,” Brandi giggled. “I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for you sweetie!”

Melissa began tugging her by the arm and Brandi reluctantly followed. When they were out of earshot of Kevin, she turned to her friend and pouted.

“That was kinda rude wasn’t it?” Brandi said. “I mean, like, the poor guy was embarrassed enough as it was. It was kinda cute the way he was blushing though.”

“Earth to Brandi!” Melissa said, rapping her knuckles on the top of Brandi’s head for effect. “You are in full blown bimbo mode. Did you want me to let you just go off somewhere with him?”

Brandi thought a moment, her big violet eyes blinking and widening. It was like Melissa could see her shifting gears. “Yes, I … I did. I really did.”

“And if you had gotten alone with him some place, what would you have done?” Melissa asked gently. “Even if he is the nicest guy in the world, do you think he could have said no when you started throwing yourself at him? When you were Brandon, at that age, could you have turned down a girl like you that was begging for sex?”

“I doubt it,” Brandi admitted after another moment’s thought. They walked in silence a while before Brandi spoke again. Brandi could sense that Melissa was bordering on anger, and the reaction confused her for a moment.

“Were you, like, jealous?” she asked quietly. “I mean, like, I really didn’t mean to make you mad.”

Melissa stopped and regarded her friend for a moment, and then she sighed.

“Yes, I was a little jealous,” she admitted. “Ok, it was more than a little. I like you Brandi…more than like you. I mean I know we just met, but I feel a very strong connection to you, and it’s more than just because you saved me. And I admit, knowing what happened to you is kind of a turn on. It’s exotic, and I like exotic.

“The anger I felt…well it wasn’t so much directed at you as it was at what was done to you. The rest was at me. You told us what you got like around guys…but until I saw it there, I really didn’t understand. You switched gears so fast it was scary. I wasn’t ready for it.”

Melissa put her arm around Brandi’s shoulder and gave her a gentle squeeze.

“I feel responsible for you, too. You can do so much, you are so capable in many things but you are emotionally and socially a teenage girl. I know what it’s like to feel those hormones raging, and from what I have just saw it is ten times stronger for you. You worry yourself about what new abilities you may discover and yet you have no clue about the one you already have, the power of a beautiful girl. You don’t even realize that the reason he hit the damn trash can in the first place is he was checking you out!”

“Really?” Brandi said, and then she giggled. “Ooops!”

Melissa laughed, “Every guy that we have passed has practically wrenched their neck when they saw you. You’re the kind of girl most of them have only seen in a magazine, or on stage at a strip club…or in a porn movie. The kid barely even noticed me.”

“Melissa, you are gorgeous!” Brandi protested. “I mean, I know I’m pretty but am I really that pretty?”

“Yes, you really are that pretty,” Melissa said. “But it’s more than that. It’s your presence. You exude sensuality. Last night, when I saw you for the first time I felt it. Even without makeup and dressed in those baggy clothes it was there, radiating from you. You come across like the girl next door and a centerfold all rolled into one. You are a walking, talking wet dream.”

“That’s what I was made to be,” Brandi said sadly. “I care about you a lot, too, Melissa. When I see a cute guy, what I feel is a plain, basic need for sex. What I feel with you is deeper than that. It’s deeper than what I feel even around another girl. I guess maybe in part it’s because of the connection from our past.”

“Look, I don’t know where our relationship will go,” Melissa said as they began walking again. “I know where I want it to go right now, but I don’t want to rush you into anything. But I do know that I want to be your friend and to help you.

“And that means we need to get you a doctor’s appointment this week. I assume you are not on any kind of birth control?”

“Shit, no, I hadn’t even thought of that!” Brandi exclaimed.

“I didn’t think you had,” Melissa said. “Will there be any problem if you have an exam? I mean, will the doctor notice anything?”

“Only if they did a DNA test with some pretty sophisticated gear. Sophisticated as in alien technology,” Brandi assured her, and then she laughed. “Or if they took some blood. A standard blood test wouldn’t show anything, but samples from me disappear within about an hour of being taken.”

“That’s pretty bizarre.”

“All part of the package,” Brandi told her. “I mean you don’t want your assassin leaving behind trace evidence now do you?”

“You are not an assassin Brandi.”

Now it was Brandi’s turn to stop and regard her friend.

“Don’t be so sure Melissa. I can and have killed, from a distance and up close and personal. And I did it without remorse because it had to be done. I’ve seen a man’s face through the scope of a rifle, seen the beads of sweat on his forehead, and then the look of shock on his face as I put a bullet in his brain. And then I lined up my next target and did it again.”

“Brandi, I…”

“I’m not trying to scare you,” Brandi said. “I just want you to know who I am and who I was. That part was not programmed into me by the machine; it’s why the machine chose me, at least part of it. I would never hurt anyone intentionally that didn’t try to hurt me or someone else first, but if it comes to killing I can and will do it and not shed one tear over it. Those three assholes in the alley last night have no idea how close to death they were. I let them off light. If the same thing were to happen now…if someone tried to hurt you or Karen…well, let’s just say I don’t like it when someone messes with my friends.”

CHAPTER 24

Candace Deveraux was pissed at being awakened at five-thirty on a Sunday morning by someone pounding on her door. She was a civilian employee at the Naval base in Norfolk, Virginia, and she liked to sleep in on Sunday. Cursing under her breath she wrapped a robe around herself and stormed out of the bedroom. At the front door she peered through the peep hole and saw two men in dark suits standing outside.

“What the hell do you want?” she demanded.

“Federal agents, Miss Deveraux,” one said, holding up a badge. “We need to speak with you.”

Candace opened the door but kept the chain fastened and peered out through the opening. She wondered what federal agents would be doing at her door at any hour, and was suspicious.

“Could I see your identification again?” she asked.

“Certainly,” the man smiled, holding up a black leather badge case. As he flipped it open Candace saw a brilliant purple flash, then blackness.

She awoke again when her alarm went off at nine. She stretched, vaguely recalling a dream about someone being at the door. She could not recall anything else about the dream, and quickly dismissed it.

As she was having breakfast she thought about Brandon Anderson. It was odd that she would think of him now; he had died nearly five months ago. They had dated quite a few times, and she had hoped their relationship would go further, but then Brandon had been wounded. After that he had been different. It wasn’t anything dramatic, but he had become quieter, almost sullen. It was to be expected, of course, and she had tried to be understanding. Finally one day Brandon had told her they were through; that he had to focus all his energy on his recovery.

It had not fooled her for a minute. Brandon felt incomplete, and he was cutting her free so she would not feel obligated to him. And rather than argue with him, she had meekly accepted it and never seen him again. In a way she had been grateful.

As she thought about their time together, the image of a beautiful young woman with blonde hair came into her mind. It was not anyone she knew but the picture was so clear in her mind it was eerie.

She was supposed to watch for this person, why she did not know. Just watch for her and then make the call. That wasn’t very hard. She could do that.

*****

“Do you realize what this means?” Susan asked Amanda Breton after showing her the email she had just received from Ryan. She had found Amanda having tea in the parlor, and was rather perplexed by the older woman’s rather blasé demeanor once she had read the message.

“Yes I do,” The older woman replied. “Brandon’s transformation to Brandi was not accidental. Susan I’m sorry I kept this from you but I suspected as much from the start. I had no actual evidence to base my suspicion on other than my familiarity with the people involved.”

“Well I can understand why you wouldn’t say anything,” Susan sighed. “This just makes me furious. I played right into their plans.”

“You were played, Susan,” Amanda corrected her. “They manipulated you; that’s what they do.”

“Someday you are going to have to tell me how you know so much about them,” Susan said.

“Let’s hold that for another time,” Amanda suggested. “When we eventually bring Brandi here, then I will tell you both.”

“Do you have people watching her?” Susan asked.

Amanda regarded her for a moment before speaking. “No. We are watching the people that are looking for her. Specifically, we are watching the ones which will be used to attempt retrieval should Brandi’s location be discovered. I did not want to place people on her, both for fear that they may lead her enemies to her, and out of concern that she would notice them. She deserves her space.”

“Thank you for that,” Susan said. “I told Ryan, again, to be careful. If they find out he has been funneling information out of the lab I hate to think what they would do to him.”

“It tells me a lot about Brandi that she has engendered such loyalty in people who only knew her for a brief time.”

“That’s Brandi. One minute she would be sparring with a half dozen experts in the martial arts, and thrashing them thoroughly. Then she would be sitting in front of the TV with Ryan playing a video game and squealing like a school girl.”

“I’m quite anxious to meet her.”

“I’m anxious for this to be over so she can have a normal life,” Susan whispered.

“Susan, you know that Brandi will never have a truly normal life.”

“Yes, I know that,” Susan sighed. “She will want to use her abilities…she will need to use them. But she can at least to be free to choose when and how.”

“Susan there is something more I need to tell you,” Amanda said, rising from the sofa. “In fact I have something I must show you first.”

“All right, Amanda.”

Amanda led Susan from the parlor, through the foyer and into the back hall. She opened a door there and they went down a short flight of stairs to the basement. At the bottom of the stairs was a large, steel door with an electronic lock.

“The biometric reader is already programmed for you,” Amanda told her. “Just press your thumb to the pad to unlock it.”

Susan did as she said, and there was a buzz followed by a muffled metallic clang as the door unlocked. The room beyond was the size of a three car garage, and there were shelves from rising from the floor to the ceiling, stacked with seamless silver cases.

“The organization does not have the only collection of Forerunner artifacts,” Amanda smiled. “Though theirs is far larger.”

Susan looked at the cases with awe. True, the warehouse in Nevada was many times larger, but to have access to even a few artifacts outside the control of the organization was unexpected and very welcome.

Amanda led Susan to a counter against one wall, and picked up a device which looked like something an eye doctor would use.

“Have you ever seen anything like this?” Amanda asked. Susan shook her head.

“This device is capable of implanting programming within a persons mind,” Amanda told her. “It uses the optic nerve as the path way to establish a connection. The information is transferred in flashes of colored light. This particular device is useless with out access to one of the Forerunner’s computers to program it.”

“They have computers in Nevada,” Susan said, the impact of the device dawning fully on her.

“And they have several of these devices,” Amanda nodded. “They have had them for some time, but now they are using them. The device can implant programming in the brain which remains dormant, until activated by a signal. The organization has been using them for some months now.”

“Creating sleepers,” Susan said dully.

“Yes and when they have all of their sleepers in place, they will send out the signal from satellites already in orbit,” Amanda said. “And with the pressing of a single button, they will be able to take control of the United States without firing a single shot.”

CHAPTER 25

Brandi started off her morning preparing for dinner. She had another project that would take her most of the day so she had decided to make spaghetti. She started off by chopping the vegetables; onions, celery, green peppers and mushrooms while the olive oil heated on the stove. Next she chopped and then browned a pound of Italian sausage and then added that to the pot and a pound of ground chuck and drained the fat. Setting the meat aside she heated more olive oil and then added the vegetables, stirring them as she added basil, thyme, oregano and parsley. Once the veggies were tender she added the meat back in, stirring the mixture and then letting it simmer as she set up a five quart crock pop. To the crock she added two big cans of diced tomatoes and another of tomato sauce. As the crock pot heated up she went back to the meat and vegetables, adding the last ingredient, fresh minced garlic. She gave it a few quick stirs and then transferred the contents to the crock pot and covered it. Brandon had learned the value of a good crock pot years ago; turn it on, fill it up and when you came home dinner was waiting. She already had garlic bread prepared, so all she had to do when she got back was put it in the oven and cook the spaghetti.

By nine she had finished all the housework and had taken time to smoke two cigarettes before she changed into a pair of tights and a sports bra. She slipped a cotton blouse on over it all and tied the front loosely, then grabbed her purse and headed out of the house. She still felt odd carrying a purse, but considering the clothes she was wearing it made sense.

She had been asking around, looking for a gym or dojo where she could get in some sparring and one place in particular had been recommended repeatedly. It was called Keller Karate and the owner, Dylan Keller, had either won or placed in every competition he had entered for the last five years. He had two national titles and was a strong contender for the next world championship. Brandi had checked out the place a few nights before and liked the style; he did not go in for the hard core approach, but all of the students had seemed well disciplined and competent.

At this time of day the place should be nearly deserted. The last thing she needed was a crowd watching her. She set off jogging at a brisk pace down Ocean Front Walk. The gym was only two miles away and she figured a little run could help her burn off some excess energy before she got there.

There were half a dozen guys in the gym when she arrived, and every one of them stopped to stare at her as she entered. Brandi felt the now familiar thrill run through her, but fought it down.

“Don’t mind me boys, just go ahead with what you were doing,” she said cheerfully. The guys returned to their workouts and Brandi looked around the interior of the gym.

It had a large open area with a padded floor for sparring, and there were the usual bits of equipment one would expect to find in such a place. Brandi walked up to a canvas heavy bag that was not being used and gave it a half hearted punch. She realized that it would just take a momentary lapse of concentration and she could punch right through the bag.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all, she thought.

“Can I help you Miss?”

Brandi turned and found herself face to face with Dylan Keller. She had the sudden thought that the posters of him on the wall did not do him justice. He was six foot two, the same height she had been when she was Brandon, and had a well toned, muscular body. His face was ruggedly handsome, and his hair was a dark brown and wavy. He gave her a roguish smile and Brandi felt her pulse quicken.

Breathe, dammit! She thought. You can run thirty miles and barely get winded and one cute guy smiles and you start to melt!

“Weren’t you in here the other night?” he asked.

“That was me.” Brandi admitted.

“So are you interested in taking some Karate classes?” Dylan asked. “We have a women’s self defense class that meets Tuesday and Thursday nights. I highly recommend it. A pretty girl like you should know how to defend herself.”

“No I don’t need classes,” Brandi told him. He had a bit of a condescending air and she hoped it was just him trying to be a salesman.

“What I am looking for is some sparring, full contact.” Brandi told him.

“Really, well my ladies instructor, Kathy, doesn’t come in until two.” Dylan said. “I’m sure we could arrange some one on one time with her though if you’d like to come back.”

“Actually I am more interested in sparring with you.”

“Look Miss, I don’t know…”

“My name is Brenda Williams, but everybody calls me Brandi.”

“Well Brandi I’m afraid I would be way out of your league.” Dylan said. “I wouldn’t want to see a pretty lady like you get hurt.”

That’s it, he is going down.

“You mean a two time National Champion is afraid to spar with a little thing like me?” Brandi said in her most girlish tone.

“All right Brandi, if you insist, I’ll show you a few moves.” Dylan said, his voice betraying his irritation. “Let’s get you padded up.”

“Are you going to pad up?” Brandi asked sweetly.

“I honestly don’t think I need pads for you sweetheart.” Dylan smiled. “I’ll just get some gloves so I don’t hurt you.”

As Dylan walked back towards his office he turned to a burly young man sweeping the far side of the gym.

“Jerry could you get this young lady some pads and help her get them on?”

Jerry nodded his head and stepped over to a closet. Brandi continued to stare after Dylan, fuming. She knew she had to get it under control or she would put him in the hospital.

“Miss?”

Brandi turned to see Jerry standing beside her, holding a collection of pads.

“Thank you sweetie but I am fine just like this.” She told him. “I’ll just take the gloves so I don’t bruise your boss.”

Dylan returned a moment later with his gloves and looked at Brandi in confusion.

“Didn’t Jerry stay to help you get padded up?”

“I told him it wasn’t necessary.” Brandi smiled. “I’ve got plenty of padding already.”

“Ok this has gone far enough.” Dylan said, his voice edging with anger.

“Oh come on Mr. Karate champ, I’ll make it easy on your male ego.” Brandi laughed. “You don’t have to hit me, just drop me to the mat and show me how much better than me you are.”

“If you insist.” Dylan said and moved forward. He tried to use a hip throw to put Brandi down but she easily avoided his attack, and gave him a sharp slap on the butt for good measure.

Wow he has a really nice ass, Brandi thought.

“So you have had some training,” Dylan smiled. “What style?”

Brandi shrugged, as she tossed her purse aside, “All of them.”

“Ok let’s go again.”

Dylan came at her again and launched a few half speed punches and a very weak kick, all of which Brandi avoided easily.

“That’s strike one Dylan.” Brandi growled. Her voice had lost the teasing tone she usually affected around men. “I don’t like being treated like a girl when I fight.”

“You’re just so beautiful I can’t help myself.” Dylan grinned.

Dylan came on again, a little faster this time but still no where near what he was capable of. Brandi once more dodged all of the attacks easily before dancing out of range.

“That’s strike two. If you don’t come on full speed with the next series, I promise you I will hit you so hard it will take your breath away.”

“Ohh, show me what you got baby.”

Dylan came forward again. He had to admit that the girl had talent. He launched his third series and picked up the pace a bit more. A look of concern crossed his face as he saw the almost contemptuous way the blonde was deflecting his punches and kicks.

“Strike three.” Brandi hissed, and her hand moved so fast it was a blur. She hit Dylan in the diaphragm with her open palm, pulling the blow at the last second. Still it landed with enough force that every bit of air was forced from his lungs and Dylan was knocked backwards off his feet. He landed on the mat and skidded about three feet, then rolled to his knees, clutching his diaphragm as he struggled to draw breath.

“This was a total waste of time.” Brandi muttered, throwing the gloves to the floor and snatching up her purse. She shot what was suppose to be an angry glare at Dylan but came out as more of a petulant pout and then stormed out the door.

She was walking back up Ocean Front smoking a cigarette when she heard Dylan calling her name. She stopped and turned, glaring at him as he ran to catch her.

“Good God, you smoke too?” Dylan exclaimed.

“A pack a day and climbing,” Brandi told him.

“That’s great!” Dylan moaned. “I just got put on my ass by a teenage smoker with implants.”

“I am not a teenager! I’m twenty-one…and these are not implants!” Brandi shouted, stomping her foot, all the while realizing how childish it made her look. “You are really starting to annoy me now.”

“Ok, I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.” Dylan said in a subdued tone. “It’s just I..well, never mind. Look, I’m sorry I took you at face value. I get a lot of people, never a girl before, but a lot of guys come in wanting to take on a ranked fighter. I made a mistake.”

Brandi sighed, “It’s not your fault Dylan, and I forgive you.”

“That was some shot you gave me.” Dylan grinned. “I’ve fought guys that couldn’t hit me that hard.”

“I hate to break it to you Dylan but I can hit a lot harder than that.”

“Well, I’m not going to make the same mistake twice and doubt you.” Dylan said. “Why don’t you come back to the gym and give me another chance. But we both have to pad up…I have my pride you know.”

It turned out to be a decent workout. Brandi still had to hold back, she knew the padding would not save Dylan from injury if she hit him full force. But Dylan was true to his word and gave it his all. He even managed to score a few hits, nothing that Brandi couldn’t have taken without the pads, but the workout accomplished what she had wanted. For the last week she had been feeling a need for action, just as she had her first night in LA. She had even snapped at Melissa and Karen a few times for no good reason, and of course apologized immediately.

They stripped off their pads and Jerry came over to gather them up. Then Dylan showed Brandi to the office so she could collect her blouse and purse which he had put there for safe keeping.

“Can I offer you a bottle of water?” Dylan asked.

Brandi was feeling decidedly aroused and her mind was screaming at her to say no. That was not the kind of workout she had come here for. Yes, Dylan was cute, and even nice once you got past the bluster, but she was definitely not going to let her libido carry her away.

“Sure, that would be great.”

Dylan pulled two bottles of water from his mini fridge and passed one to Brandi.

“Have you ever competed?” Dylan asked after taking a swig of water. “I mean, I’m not kidding, you could beat any woman in the world, hell I think you could beat any man.”

“It’s not about competition for me Dylan, it’s about survival,” Brandi told him, a bit testily.

“I’m sorry, I just seem to say the wrong things to you,” Dylan said.

Brandi sighed, “It really isn’t your fault. I’m just a little on edge. That’s why I was looking for someone to spar with.”

“Yeah, I can understand that,” Dylan said. “A good match always helps me when I need to blow off some steam. I hope you’ll come back and give me another chance. And I confess, you pulled some moves out there I’ve never seen before. I’d be interested in seeing you in action some more.”

Brandi regarded him for a moment before deciding that last line was a compliment and not a come on. She actually found that she was a little disappointed that he had not come on to her. He really was a nice guy, once some of the bluster had been taken out of him.

“I tell you what,” Brandi said slowly. “Why don’t you sign me up for a three month membership.”

“Great!” Dylan smiled. “I look forward to our next match.”

*****

“Excuse me Mr. Mercer, but I have something you might want to see.”

Reginald Mercer looked at the man with annoyance and extended his hand for the printout. He scanned the page and his annoyance quickly turned to rage.

“This is two weeks old!” he bellowed. “Why wasn’t this brought to my attention sooner?”

“The description didn’t match the subject so the report was given a low priority, sir,” the man stammered.

“And just what part of ‘able to alter form and appearance’ didn’t you people understand!”

Mercer stormed into his office and read the report in detail. It had started with a bulletin from the California Bureau of Investigation looking for a young woman with red hair for questioning involving a truck hijacking ring. According to a follow up, the girl in question had, according to the hijackers themselves, taken on ten men, killing one and injuring several others seriously. And all that after she had reportedly been shot four times. There was no further follow up as the investigators had discounted the story due to a total lack of evidence.

Two fucking weeks ago! Mercer raged inside. And in California!

They had put enormous resources into finding the bitch and all the while they were looking in the wrong place! They had even pulled resources from the overall plan to reprogram anyone Anderson might have attempted to contact.

Mercer snatched up his phone and began giving orders to redirect numerous teams to California. The incident had occurred west of Bakersfield, but by now she could be anywhere. But the fact that she had been in California then, the place they had been certain she wanted them to think she was going to as misdirection, made him confident she was still there. They would concentrate their efforts in Los Angeles but just to be safe he sent teams to San Francisco and San Diego, as well as a few more to canvas the areas in between.

Mercer looked out through the glass of his office windows and saw the head analyst looking nervously in his direction. He smiled and picked up his phone again, buzzing the man’s desk.

“Yes, Mr. Mercer?”

“I apologize for snapping at you Mr. Martin,” Mercer said, his tone conciliatory. “That was good work to catch this after all this time. This information is very sensitive and it needs to be delivered to Evan Mitchell at the lab in Nevada. I’d like you to deliver it personally.”

“Certainly, Mr. Mercer!” Martin said, relief evident in his voice.

“Arrangements will be made for your travel immediately,” Mercer said and hung up, giving the man a thumbs up.

The lab people had been asking for a test subject, now that they had restored partial function to the Forerunner machine. He was certain that Miss Martin would be a lovely secretary once they were done.

CHAPTER 26

Brandi saw Dylan drop his right hand slightly, grinned, knowing he was about to launch a right kick. She stepped aside a fraction of a second before he did and the kick sailed into empty air.

“You knew I was going to do that!” he exclaimed.

“You’re still dropping your right hand,” Brandi told him. “It’s barely noticeable but a good opponent will pick up on it, and in a match, they’re not gonna just step aside.”

Brandi had developed a routine over her first month with Melissa and Karen. She readily took on the daily chores of keeping the house in order. It only made sense since her friends were both working and going to school and their weekdays were very full. Since Brandi rarely slept more than two or three hours a night, it was easy for her to be up in time to make sure they had a decent breakfast before starting their day and have a meal waiting when they came home. She did have to be careful with her cooking; most of what she was familiar with preparing were the high calorie dishes Brandon had enjoyed and the girls reminded her regularly that they did gain weight and when she prepared a lavish meal they had to squeeze in the time to work the extra calories off.

She had also developed a close circle of friends, starting with the rest of Melissa and Karen’s band, the Post-Modern Bimbos. They were a fun group and Brandi enjoyed going to their practices. The band had begun playing at some small clubs a few times a week and their mix of pop, folk rock and country was very well received. Listening to them had generated a different kind of yearning in Brandi, and she had gone to a music store Melissa told her about and bought a Fender acoustic/electric twelve string guitar. Her half inch nails had given her a bit of trouble when she first tried to play, until she thought to shrink them down until they no longer extended beyond her finger tips. She began practicing regularly and gradually lengthened them until she could keep them at their normal length.

She had hoped that she would be able to play as well as Brandon had; he was a decent rhythm guitarist which was why he had favored the twelve string, but had never been accomplished enough to finger pick. To her delight, she quickly discovered she was far better, and shortly after getting the twelve string she purchased a six string as well and started teaching herself to play more complex lead and accompaniment parts. Her mind’s ability to multitask was very beneficial, and she also found she had perfect pitch. She could instantly tell if a string was out of tune in the slightest.

The most startling discovery of all was her voice. Brandon had a nice tenor singing voice and Brandi had expected her voice to be a soprano based on her speech. When Melissa tested her range with the piano, she was easily able to reach from C2 to C7 on the keyboard, and even above and below that by a few notes with effort, giving her a good five octave range and then some. Brandi was certain it was due to her ability to alter form and assume the appearance of another woman. Her voice had to be flexible so she could to pass as someone else. She suspected that with practice she would be able to hit any note within the human vocal range, and quite possibly a few outside it.

She thought about how far she had come in the last month as she gave Dylan some suggestions about his habit of telegraphing his kick. Dressing like a girl no longer brought on any anxiety, though she was still disturbed by the attention she received, or more accurately the feelings that attention caused within her. And since she was in hiding, any attention tended to make her nervous. It might have been more sensible for her to keep out of sight as much as possible, but she had done that in the initial days after her escape and it just was not in her nature. And there was a growing part of her that genuinely liked the attention she got, as long as it was polite.

Daily exercise was another part of her routine, and she alternated time between jogging and sparring at Dylan’s gym. Her runs were long, generally lasting between two and three hours, and she usually ran the full length of Ocean Front several times. Three times a week she went to the gym, and she and Dylan worked out in a private room he used for training.

“Ok let’s give it another go,” Dylan suggested.

They circled each other warily, Dylan feinting several times but failing to draw Brandi out. Then he launched a rapid series of attacks, he had long since stopped holding back with her, and when Brandi saw his right hand drop she shifted left and easily deflected the kick and gave him a slap on the rear for good measure.

“You’re still telegraphing honey,” she said, her voice playful. “Next time I’m gonna spank you harder.”

They continued the bout and Dylan again prepared his favorite kick and Brandi saw him drop his right hand once more. She stepped to the left and Dylan promptly dropped down and swept her legs, taking her down to the mat and rolling on top of her.

“Misdirection is a valid tactic, too,” Brandi giggled, fully aware that she had been suckered in.

“I guess it’s my turn to spank you,” Dylan said, grinning.

For a moment they simply stared at each other, Dylan grinning that incredibly cute, roguish grin of his and Brandi finding herself mesmerized by his deep blue eyes. Then he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.

Brandi responded, parting her lips and kissing him back. At first she thought nothing of it; it was like kissing him was the most natural thing in the world. It was not like it had been in the past, her body was not acting while her mind resisted. Both were quite in harmony and for a moment she felt like she was going to lose all control. Then Dylan’s lips moved down to her neck and she found her voice.

“Dylan, please stop,” Brandi moaned softly, her tone not quite pleading.

Dylan pushed himself up and looked at her, saying, “I’ve been wanting to do that since I first saw you.”

He leaned close again but Brandi summoned all her will power and held him back.

“Dylan, I like you, I really do,” she said, and now she was pleading, tears brimming her eyes, “but if you don’t stop I won’t be able to stop. I’m not ready for what comes next, and I don’t think you would want it to be like that.”

Dylan pushed himself up and looked at her, his eyes filled with resignation. But Brandi also saw compassion in them.

“I’m sorry, Brandi,” Dylan said. “I don’t know who hurt you, but he has to be the biggest asshole in the world.”

Brandi summoned up a grin as he helped her to her feet and said, “That’s very sweet of you to say, Dylan. I wish it was that simple.”

“Maybe one day you’ll tell me about it.” Dylan said hopefully.

“Maybe I will, but not today,” Brandi replied. “I really have to get going.”

Brandi collected her fanny pack from her locker and left the gym. It was still early so she decided to run a bit to burn off some excess steam.

She reflected on the kiss. It had been far from unpleasant; in fact it had felt like the most natural thing in the world to kiss a man, especially a strong, handsome man like Dylan. But even with that, she had felt no emotion, no desire, only need. But as she ran she remembered the feel of his arms about her, their lips pressed together and their tongues entwined, and a smile crept across her face.

Tonight was a big night so she kept her run to one hour. The band was playing at a big club called The Backbeat, and all the girls would be over for dinner before they headed out. And for the first time, Brandi was going to hear them play in an actual performance instead of just practice. She knew it was a risk; exposing herself to a club full of people…a lot of them men looking to score. Just the night before she had almost convinced herself she should not go. But now she was looking forward to it. She had spent four months in a hole in the ground and another rarely leaving the house. Her seventeen year old nature was asserting itself with a vengeance and demanding some release. To put it plainly, she wanted to party.

Brandi entered the house from her run, her body coated in a thin film of perspiration. She did not really need the exercise; her body never gained weight no matter how much she ate, but she was able to detect a difference. Her muscle tone had been good but now it was better, and she believed the regular exercise was helping her improve her already considerable endurance.

She went into the kitchen and checked the roast she had put in the oven before starting her run and saw that it was ready, so she turned the oven off. Humming softly she went upstairs and stripped out of her tights and sports bra and started the water for a bath. Nikki had been right about the Enell sports bras; they provided much better support and their front hook closure made putting one on and removing it much easier.

Once the bath was full she removed her water proof vibrator from the drawer next to the bathroom sink. It was time for her other workout, and the running had not helped at all. She now had to pleasure herself two to three times a day to keep her sexual urges in check. It was still as pleasurable as always, but the desire was coming back much faster. Her programmed desire for sex was really the last hurdle she had to deal with, and she knew she would have to take another step in her journey soon.

After her bath she slipped into the knit pants and camisole that she liked to wear lounging around the house and sat down at her desk to send out a quick email to Susan. After opening the word processor, she paused for a moment to compose what she was going to say in her mind. Her hands were resting on the front keyboard and she felt them tingle slightly. She was about to pull her hands away when the words in her mind began appearing on the screen, but her fingers were not even moving!

Well that’s a new trick, she thought, and even as she thought it she saw the words typed across the screen. She decided she would explore this new ability for a bit.

Dear Mom,

Well the girl just keeps getting stranger. I am writing this to you and my fingers are not even moving. It appears that I have interfaced with my laptop and as I think the words they appear on the screen. I guess it’s the same process as normal…I’m just by passing the whole manual process. It’s actually way cool, I mean I type pretty fast but this is going out at blazing speed and as soon as I think the words there they are and I don’t even have to think about the spelling or anything like that and it makes me wonder what else I could do with this like could I interface with an ATM machine or something like that or maybe the electronic ignition on a car and ok now I am rambling] …I’ll have to watch that.

It is cool though. I’ll have to explore it further. I can only assume it has something to do with my ability to detect and disrupt electronic devices. Do you think it is possible that the nanocyborgs are able to enter an electronic device, like they did when I healed Melissa’s face? The sensation I am feeling in my fingers is very much like what I felt then. Of course it’s unlikely they are what allow me to disrupt a video camera ten feet away, unless the little buggers can fly.

Well, tonight is the big night and, yes, I am more than a little scared. There are going to be a lot of people there and the level of emotion is no doubt going to be high. But it’s a really important night for my friends, and I really want to be there to see it. Also, I am going nuts just hanging around the house all the time and it’s not like it makes it any easier to deal with my sex drive. I want to have some fun.

Why don’t I just do it? Karen asked me that a while back and the explanation still is the same. I don’t want to be that girl…the one that goes out to clubs looking for a one night stand. I mean as far as men go, that would be all I’m looking for…but I’d like to at least have some connection to the guy. I want to know his name and at least know I like him, even just a little. As far as women go, I still see pretty girls all the time and feel a strong attraction…but there’s only one girl I want to be with and I can’t even do that because I’m afraid it’s just because of the programming and I don’t want my first time with Melissa to be because I’m so horny I can’t stand it I want it to be special and mean something and here I go rambling again…

Anyway, other than my raging desire for sex and my absolute fear of having it, everything is going well. I’m glad you liked the pictures I sent. Yes Brandi is pretty much all girl now…though sometimes Melissa and Karen still have to jump on me when I act a little too much like a guy. Generally these days it revolves around eating. I’m getting better. I have started spreading out my eating and doing judicious amounts of snacking between major meals. I think chocolate might have been created for Genomorphs. Rocky Road ice cream too!

I miss you terribly, and though I know it won’t do any good I’m going to say please don’t worry about me. I have wonderful friends, and they are taking good care of me. I haven’t gotten in an altercation since the hijacking. Ok, not a serious altercation. Melissa and I were out for a walk the other night and this group of obnoxious jerks started hitting on us. Of course that sent me into bimbo mode and Melissa finally had to dissuade them by saying she just was not into guys. I nearly decked one of them when he called her a dyke but she stopped me. Too bad, a broken nose might have done him some good.

Love,

Brandi

Brandi pulled her hands away from the laptop, and then used the more traditional method of clicking the mouse to send the email. She had heard the garage door opening and recognized the familiar sound of Melissa’s Ford Escape. It was a gas-electric hybrid, but that did not figure into her ability to recognize its engine signature. She was able to recognize the little knocks and pings unique to any engine.

I’d make a great sonar operator on a sub, she thought wryly, if they let women on subs.

At her request Melissa and Karen had both stopped using the bus and started driving. It was a security precaution; if her location was discovered, they might try to get to her through her friends, and she felt more comfortable knowing they had a means of escape nearby wherever they were.

Brandi closed the laptop once the mail was sent and went downstairs. She was just taking the roast out of the oven as Melissa entered through the through the door from the garage.

“That smells wonderful!” she said as she stopped at the kitchen counter. “So how has your day been sweetie?”

“Great,” Brandi replied as she drained the drippings from the pan into a pot on the stove top. She turned the burner on and added some water before turning to give Melissa a big smile.

They talked for a bit, though Brandi did not share with Melissa what had happened at the gym, and then Melissa went upstairs to change as Brandi began setting the table. The rest of the girls arrived within the next half hour and they were soon settled around the dining room table.

“It’s really great you’re coming out to see us play tonight, Brandi.” Amber Galloway said. The petite blonde was the band’s drummer and in her fourth year as an undergraduate in the UCLA school of engineering. She acted a lot like Brandi, and like Brandi it was mostly an act, as she was one of the top students in the department. Her blonde hair was short and spiked and she had a small diamond stud in the left side of her nose, as well as a larger one in her belly button. Though Brandi had never seen them she knew Amber had a few other piercings as well.

“I’m pretty excited about it myself,” Brandi said truthfully. “It has been, like, so long since I really went out.”

“Well you shouldn’t have to worry about buying your own drinks,” Cyndi Dalton grinned. “The guys will be tripping over each other.”

Cyndi was the lead guitarist for the Bimbos. She was taller than Brandi, about five nine, and had straight, dark red hair that reached the middle of her back. She had a trim, athletic figure and piercing hazel eyes. At twenty-six she was the oldest of the group, and was doing post graduate work in history.

“Just be careful,” Cyndi’s girlfriend, Renee Fallon cautioned. “Watch out for the sharks; they’re always on the lookout for fresh meat.”

Renee played bass guitar and she and Cyndi had been together for two years. She was about Brandi’s height of five foot eight. She had dark brown hair that was cut to shoulder length. Like Cyndi she was trim, but a bit curvier. She was twenty-four and also in the post graduate program, working on her masters in psychology.

Though the three girls did not know about Brandi’s secret, Melissa and Karen had told them about her ‘condition’. Without going into a lot of detail, they had told them that Brandi had an uncharacteristically high sex drive and had to constantly fight to maintain control. They had all promised to help keep an eye on her.

“Maybe they won’t be the only ones on the prowl,” Brandi giggled, pushing her chair back from the table. “I’m gonna start getting ready!”

As Brandi practically ran upstairs Melissa and Karen exchanged worried looks. The night before she had been so tense she had talked about not going. Now she was eager…far too eager.

“Are you guys sure this is a good idea?” Cyndi asked.

“I’m beginning to wonder,” Melissa said.

“Keeping her in a box won’t make things any better,” Renee told them. “Have you talked to her about seeing a therapist?”

Melissa sighed, knowing Renee meant well and just as certainly knowing there was nothing a therapist could do for Brandi. Though her behavior could easily be viewed as an emotional problem, her personality swings were very similar to someone who was bi-polar; there just were not any therapists out there that dealt with helping someone deal with programming inflicted by an ancient alien artifact.

“It’s complicated Renee,” Melissa said. “But you’re right; we can’t keep her locked up. She’s going to need my help getting into that outfit she picked out so I’ll talk to her.”

*****

Reginald Mercer was wading through a dozen reports of possible sightings of the Genomorph, none of them promising, when his desk phone beeped. He stabbed the intercom button impatiently.

“What is it, Miss Todd?”

“Agent Reynolds would like to see you Mr. Mercer,” a very sexy voice replied through the speaker. “He says it’s urgent.”

“Send him in.”

A moment later the door opened and Agent Reynolds stepped in, carrying a file folder.

“What is it, Reynolds?”

“I think we have a definite sighting, sir.” Reynolds replied, opening the folder. “We found a citizen report to the LAPD of an incident that occurred the night before the truck hijacking. A young blonde woman was seen fighting with half a dozen gang members in a park in south LA. According to the witness she handled them easily. The police discounted it as a crank report.”

Reynolds handed the report to Mercer, who scanned it quickly. It did look promising, but he did not see where it helped them.

“This gets us no closer to a current location,” Mercer grumbled. “She could have gone anywhere after the hijacking.”

“Sir, we know that Arnold Belcher, the driver whose truck was hijacked left Las Vegas the same night the Genomorph escaped,” Reynolds said. “He then made several stops, ending up in Los Angeles on the night of this incident. During the day, he made a delivery at a parts house.”

“Get to the point please.”

“The manager of that parts house, a Max Duggan, was the one who set Belcher up for the hijacking. He told the police that a young blonde woman was traveling with the trucker, supposedly his niece. Arnold Belcher has no siblings.”

“You think he picked her up at the rest stop?” Mercer asked.

“Yes sir,” Reynolds replied. “She then traveled with him to San Francisco, and was present when the truck was hijacked. After the authorities let Belcher go he spent the night in Carsonville, just ten miles from the scene. The next day he returned to LA, and then headed west. He could have easily driven to LA the day before, but for some reason he stopped.”

“And she may have been injured foiling the hijacking,” Mercer said. “One of the hijackers claimed to have shot her four times. She would have needed sleep to recover fully.”

“Yes sir,” Reynolds nodded. “I believe the first night in LA she may have been scouting out the city with the intention of returning there to lay low. We know that after Belcher left LA he was alone.”

“All right, concentrate all the teams in LA,” Mercer ordered.

“Yes sir,” Reynolds said. “I have already initiated a detailed search of LAPD and LA county sheriff’s records for the days since Belcher left. She seems to have a tendency to find trouble whether she’s looking for it or not.”

“Good work, Reynolds,” Mercer said. “Keep me informed.”

After Reynolds left Mercer smiled. They were closing in, he was sure of it. The bitch did have a tendency to stick her nose into things; if she saw someone being mugged she would not be able to stand by and do nothing.

Mercer decided a celebration was in order. He punched the button on his phone again.

“Miss Todd, please come in here.”

The door opened and Martina Todd, his new secretary, walked in, a big smile on her face. She was dressed smartly in a black knee length skirt, white silk blouse and black blazer. Her legs were clad in black nylons and the three inch heels she wore accentuated their length.

She tossed her head, flipping her long, black hair back and making her large breasts jiggle enticingly.

“Can I do something for you, Mr. Mercer?” she asked sweetly as she locked the door.

“You certainly can,” Mercer grinned as she stepped around the desk and dropped to her knees.

In a deep recess of her mind, the former supervisor of the intelligence section Todd Martin, or rather what was left of him, cried.

CHAPTER 27

“A little tighter, Melissa, I can still breathe,” Brandi quipped as Melissa tightened the laces up the back of her white bustier top. “I don’t know why you won’t let me wear the one that laces in front.”

“Because I want you in something that will take a little work to get you out of,” Melissa said, giving the laces a final tug. “Just in case, you know.”

The bustier stopped an inch above Brandi’s navel, leaving plenty of skin exposed between it and the top of the matching skirt she wore. The bustier and skirt were trimmed in pink lace and the skirt had an asymmetric hemline that went from mid calf on her left leg to just above her right knee, with lacey pink fringe around the hem. Her legs were clad in sheer white stockings and she wore a pair of hot pink snake skin cowboy boots with soft slouch uppers and two inch heels. As she stepped back, whirling for Melissa to see, she looked like an angel, albeit a very sexy, provocative angel.

“How do I look?” Brandi asked.

Melissa opened her mouth to speak but for a moment the words would not come. Brandi looked at her and grinned.

“That good, huh?” she giggled.

“Brandi, you are the most gorgeous creature I have ever seen,” Melissa said at last. “I wish I had a cowboy hat for you, it would be perfect.”

Brandi grinned even more and slid into the closet. A moment later she stepped out wearing a pink snakeskin cowboy hat that matched her boots.

“You know, it’s hard to believe that a few weeks ago you wouldn’t wear anything but baggy shirts and pants,” Melissa said. “And your makeup is perfect, too.”

“Once I started dressing fem it was like a dam broke,” Brandi smiled. “I mean I can look at myself in the mirror and know what a guy is going to think looking at me.”

“How do you feel about that?” Melissa asked.

“It’s still a little scary,” Brandi admitted, and then she smiled sexily, “Not so much tonight though.”

Melissa’s eyes drifted to the diamond stud that now adorned Brandi’s exposed navel and shook her head, “I still can’t believe you put that in yourself.”

“It only took three tries to get it just right,” Brandi grinned, making Melissa wince. “The first two times it was crooked and I had to pull it out and let it…”

“Stop!” Melissa pleaded. “And may I say…ewwww!”

“I’m only kidding sweetie,” Brandi told her, just to make her feel better. “And it really didn’t hurt at all. I just turned down my pain response for a few seconds. I did the same thing with my ears.”

“Well, that’s handy,” Melissa commented. “Now did you, um, work out your tensions today?”

“Three times,” Brandi grinned.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Melissa asked.

“I’m sure that you should, like, stop asking me that,” Brandi whined, and then she was smiling. “Now tell me I look pretty!”

“Pretty does not even begin to describe you, honey,” Melissa said with total honesty. “I know I’ve been being a pain, but I’m just so worried about you. You’re acting very bimbo like and I just know if something happens you’re going to hate yourself in the morning.”

“I’ll be fine,” Brandi assured her. “You need to focus on the gig and stop worrying about me. I have no intention of letting some guy get into my pants tonight.”

Melissa reached out and caressed her friend’s face gently and smiled, “Neither did I the first time, sweetie. That’s why I’m worried.”

An hour later they were at The Backbeat. It was a very upscale and popular club and they only selected the best bands to play there regularly. The music director had seen the band playing at another club and had been impressed enough to offer them a prime opening slot before the main band started. It was a Friday night so the crowd would be considerable.

Brandi stayed close to the girls until it was almost time for them to go out on the stage. Then she gave them each a hug and a kiss and made her way out into the club. She was right down in front as the band was introduced and the lights came up on the stage. The crowd reacted very enthusiastically, with a good number of wolf whistles and appreciative shouts. Karen was radiant in her black keyhole mini dress, fishnet stockings and calf boots. By the time they finished their first number, Heart’s ‘If Looks Could Kill’, the crowd was roaring and Brandi had a drink. Who it came from she was not sure, the waitress had pointed but there were about a dozen guys in the indicated area and all were looking at her and grinning.

“I could get used to this,” Brandi said with a grin.

The band started up another song and Brandi was bouncing with the beat when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned and saw a young man smiling down at her.

“You should be dancing,” he said, extending his hand. Brandi had already turned down several offers to dance but this time she smiled and took his hand, letting him lead her out onto the dance floor.

Brandon had never been much of a dancer, so Brandi at first watched what the other girls were doing and emulated them. Soon however she had the general idea and let herself go, gyrating sensuously with the upbeat rhythm.

“I’m Kyle,” her dance partner called over the music.

“Brandi,” she replied, smiling. “You’re awful cute, Kyle.”

Up on the stage Melissa looked to the table after the song was finished and saw that Brandi was gone. She tried not to be too concerned; there was nothing wrong with Brandi dancing, but she still had not returned by the time they started the next number.

Brandi was at a table with Kyle and his two friends, Dave and Sean. They were all handsome and well built. They attended USC and were apparently regulars at the club.

“I know I have never seen you here before,” Sean said, grinning wolfishly. Instead of feeling uncomfortable at his leering, Brandi relished in it.

“This is my first time here,” Brandi said. “My girlfriends are playing up there. I’m kinda, like, an honorary Bimbo!”

For the rest of the band’s first set Brandi was only stationary long enough to throw back the numerous drinks they kept buying for her. She never even considered the risk of coming back to the table and accepting a waiting drink from three guys she did not even know. Fortunately, they were not the type who would slip her something. She did not limit herself to dancing with just the three of them either.

“Man, Kyle, her eyes are all over you,” Dave said while she was out on the floor with Sean. “You have got to tap that tonight.”

Kyle smiled, “She seems really nice. Kinda dumb but sweet, you know?”

Dave grinned, “That’s the best kind my man.”

In between sets Melissa went in search of Brandi. She found her at a table with Kyle and his friends, laughing and carrying on in a very animated fashion. As Melissa approached Kyle leaned over and whispered in Brandi’s ear and she began giggling.

“That sounds like fun, sweetie, but my friends have one more set to play,” Brandi told him. “It just, like, wouldn’t be right to bail on them.”

“Hi guys, could I borrow my friend for just a minute?” Melissa asked.

“Oh, boys, this is my best friend Melissa!” Brandi squealed. “She is, like, so awesome and she writes all the band’s songs, well, you know except, like, the ones that other people wrote.”

Melissa smiled as the guys told her how much they liked the band and thanked them as Brandi slipped out of the booth. Melissa led her a short distance away and looked at her intently.

“You’re drunk!” she exclaimed. She knew that Brandi could regulate her level of intoxication, and just as surely knew that she was not doing it now.

“Melissa, please!” Brandi pleaded. “For the first time in so long I’m havin’ fun. Please don’t be mad and don’t make me stop.”

“Would you stop if I asked you to?” Melissa wondered.

Brandi looked genuinely hurt as she said, “I’d do anything you asked me to. If you want me to go home right now I will.”

“No, sweetie, I don’t want that,” Melissa said, instantly sorry. The look of pain in Brandi’s eyes was more than she could stand. “I’m just worried it’s not you having fun; that it’s your programming making you act this way.”

“It’s not, I promise,” Brandi assured her. “I just decided to dip my toe in the water. I know I’m flirting outrageously and, yes, I let myself get a little tipsy, but I’ve got to know if I can handle myself.”

“All right, but could you do something for me?” Melissa relented. “Ask the guys to join you at the table up front.   The club was nice enough to set it aside for us, and I’d feel better if I could see you.”

“I’ll do that right now!” Brandi giggled, and then kissed her on the cheek.

The last set went as well as the first, and Melissa was much more relaxed because she could see Brandi the whole time, at least for the brief times she was not dancing. She certainly did appear to be having fun with her admirers and Melissa knew she should be happy, but she was very worried that Brandi was treading a very fine line.

After the set they retreated into the back, but quickly returned for an encore. There was no denying that the Post-Modern Bimbos had been a big hit. As they started backstage after the encore Melissa turned and saw that Brandi was heading towards them with a big smile. She breathed a sigh of relief and stepped through the door into the back room

“Where’s Brandi?” Karen asked.

“She’s heading this way,” Melissa said with a smile.

Amber stuck her head out the door and looked around, then turned to the girls.

“I don’t see her anywhere,” she said.

“All right girls fan out and check every dark corner,” Melissa said. “Renee, take the parking lot. Dammit, I should have kept a closer eye on her.”

It was Renee who found her; actually the first thing she found was her bustier, lying on the pavement. Then she heard the moans coming from a short distance away. She managed to reach her, locked in a passionate embrace with Kyle behind his car, before she had shed any more clothes. She was too busy trying to get his pants unbuckled to worry about the rest of her clothes.

“Um, Brandi, are you sure you should be doing this, you know what the doctor said,” Renee admonished, hands on hips and a stern look on her face. “You don’t want to give this poor guy, you know…”

“Wh…what?” Kyle stammered.

“Listen, sweetie, you two haven’t…you know…all ready, have you?” Renee continued. “’Cause if you have, I suggest you get to your doctor and get checked out first thing tomorrow. You, um, wouldn’t want anything to fall off would you?”

“We just kissed, I swear it!” He proclaimed.

“Well, you should be all right then,” Renee told him, not sounding at all certain. “At least I think you should…”

Kyle could not get away fast enough, not even sparing a glance back as he ran. Renee chuckled as she watched him and then turned back to Brandi, who promptly grabbed her and kissed her firmly on the lips. Renee felt Brandi’s tongue dart into her mouth as she placed her hands on the blonde girl’s face and gently pushed her away.

Brandi’s eyes flew wide, suddenly realizing what she had done, and then she turned to run, but Renee grabbed her arm.

“Sweetie, you’re half naked,” Renee said as though nothing had happened. “Let’s get you laced back into this thing and we can meet the others around back.”

Melissa sighed with relief as she saw Brandi approaching, Renee walking beside her with her arm around her shoulder.

“What happened?” Melissa asked, worried.

“Nothing serious, just some major kissing,” Renee said, grinning. “Oh, she was half naked and kissing some guy too.”

“I’m such a pain in the ass, I’m sorry guys,” Brandi muttered.

“As long as you’re all right,” Cyndi said, and then turned to Renee, “Is she as good a kisser as she looks?”

“Much better,” Renee laughed, and even Brandi joined in.

“I’m sorry…I just lost it,” Brandi said. “If Renee hadn’t found me when she did…”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it, honey,” Amber said. “I mean it’s not like I’ve never gotten wasted and woke up in some strange bed the next morning. I tell you the last one was a whole lot better looking when I was drunk. But when I woke up, it was a real coyote ugly moment.”

“Amber, that is not helping,” Karen said, and then turned to Brandi. “Everything really is ok, Brandi, we love you and we have your back. That’s what friends are for.”

“Brandi, have you considered taking yoga?” Renee asked. “Maybe learning some meditation techniques and exercises could help you find your center.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Brandi admitted. She already knew that she could control her body in many ways. Perhaps learning how to meditate could help her.

Karen and Cyndi went inside to talk to the club’s music director while Brandi and the others started packing up their equipment. They were just about finished when the two young women returned, their faces lit by big smiles.

“Well, they want us back,” Karen told them. “They want us to play Tuesday and Thursday nights every other week and are going to put us on the rotation as headliners for Friday and Saturday.”

“We should get a weekend every other month,” Cyndi said. “And, he’s going to put in a good word for us with some other mainstream clubs.”

The girls all began talking at once. It was a big deal for them, as even one weeknight slot at The Backbeat would pay more than two nights at the places they usually worked.

“We are going to have to sit down soon and decide how far we want to try and take this though,” Cyndi cautioned. “When we started this band none of us were looking to make music a career and we are a long way from that still. But we need to think things over really well.”

With the equipment packed up, they said good night and Karen told Melissa and Brandi that she was going home with Cyndi and Renee so they could talk for a bit. Brandi was very quiet, and did not notice that Melissa and Karen had stepped aside for a hushed conversation just before that.

She did not say a word on the drive back to Venice Beach. As soon as they got into the house, Brandi began crying and Melissa held her. She let her cry herself out, and for nearly a half hour Brandi’s body was wracked by sobs.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Melissa asked once Brandi had calmed down.

“Not really,” Brandi said, “but I think I need to.”

“I guess you weren’t as in control as you thought,” Melissa said as they sat down on the living room sofa.

“No, I was,” Brandi said. “That’s the whole problem. Before it’s always been like I was watching what was happening but I couldn’t make my body stop. It wasn’t like that this time.

“I was following you guys to the back and he asked me if I’d like to go somewhere a little quieter, and I said, ‘yes.’ My mind and my body were in total agreement. Well we didn’t get far out of the club and we were kissing, and I knew I should stop but I didn’t really want to. I will admit that all the emotion I was picking up from the people around me was having more of an effect than I told you. And I think maybe…well, I didn’t tell you but earlier today Dylan kissed me, and I kissed him back.”

“How did you feel about that?” Melissa asked.

“I liked it…a lot. And I wanted more, but I asked him to stop and he was very sweet about it.” Brandi said. “

“Are you glad Renee stopped you?”

“God yes!” Brandi cried. “I wanted it…but I didn’t want it. I knew I should stop, and I knew I could stop but I didn’t want to. I know that probably sounds weird.”

“No, it sounds just like a young woman overcome by passion,” Melissa said. “You know I may be into girls now but that doesn’t mean I was never with a guy. And it happened just that way to me, I got caught up in the fun and the emotion…only I didn’t have any friends there to hose me down.”

“What was it like for you?” Brandi asked.

“It was actually very nice,” Melissa smiled. “Of course it was awkward too…we were only fifteen. And the next morning I felt like garbage, not because of what we had done but because I realized I didn’t feel anything for the boy. And to make matters worse I decided that since I had slept with him I owed it to him to try and make a relationship work, even though I really knew I didn’t feel anything for guys. I had known it for a long time, but I was in major denial over my awakening sexuality.”

“But, once you accepted that you were a lesbian, you didn’t have to deal with lusting after guys anymore,” Brandi said. “No matter what I do, that will always be part of me.”

“Don’t be so sure it’s not part of me sweetie,” Melissa laughed. “I can still feel it when I see a good looking guy, especially if he’s a nice guy too. But it is different with me…I don’t have it hard wired into my brain, and I don’t have an artificially induced hyper sex drive.

“But I do understand the conflict you are feeling. There is still a part of you that sees yourself as a man, and that man was not attracted to other men. So you fight it, just like I fought my attraction to other girls. We all have programming that we sometimes find ourselves in conflict with. We get it from our family and society, from our friends and the media, and when we realize that it isn’t who we are we have to fight it.”

“I never thought of it that way,” Brandi admitted.

“Don’t get me wrong, though,” Melissa cautioned. “I’m not minimizing what you face in any way. I had to deal with programming from the way I was raised that told me it was wrong for me to be attracted to girls, but that was still programming I put there, and I could overcome. You may never be able to break free of what that machine put in you, but I believe you can come to terms with it.”

“I wish I believed that,” Brandi said.

“You have friends, and we are going to love you no matter what. We’ll get through this together.” Melissa said. “Now, let’s get you out of this bustier.”

Melissa followed Brandi into her room, watching the pretty blonde closely. It was obvious that Brandi was still tense; the incident with the guy in the parking lot had served only to heighten her desire and compound it with frustration. No doubt when Melissa left her alone, Brandi would seek the solace of her vibrator. But Melissa had no intention of leaving her alone tonight.

She knew it was a risk; that Brandi might feel betrayed by what she was about to do. But Melissa could not stand it any longer, could not bear to watch her friend in turmoil.

They sat on the edge of Brandi’s bed and Melissa thought it was fitting, almost poetic. It had once been her bed, and was the very place where she had lost her virginity. She thought back to that night; two fifteen year old kids lost to passion. They were fumbling and clumsy and despite all that when it was over she had felt a wonderful, satisfying glow. Then the glow had faded, and she looked at the sleeping boy and knew that she did not love him. Even more, she knew she would never love him or any other male. It had taken another two years for her to find the courage to come out, but she had never looked back since then.

“God, you’re so tense, Brandi,” Melissa said as she began gently massaging the muscles of her friend’s neck and shoulders. She could feel Brandi trembling, almost twitching with tension. “I wouldn’t have thought you could get like this.”

“Oh, I can,” Brandi mumbled dreamily. “That feels wonderful.”

Melissa stopped the massage, eliciting a whimper of protest from Brandi, and began slowly unlacing her bustier. Once she had it removed, she laid it on the cedar chest at the foot of the bed and resumed the massage. Brandi’s head sagged back and she began breathing a bit heavier.

Melissa took a deep breath and slipped her hands down along Brandi’s arms, stroking them softly. Then she slipped them under her arms and began gently massaging Brandi’s breasts. Almost since the moment they had met she had longed to know what they would feel like, and she was pleased that the sensation was just as she had imagined; they were firm yet soft to the touch. The skin was smooth and perfect and as her fingers reached the nipples Brandi let out a long, soft moan of pleasure.

Suddenly, Brandi tensed and sprang up from the bed, her right arm coming up to cover her breasts as she turned to stare at Melissa.

“Melissa, no, not like this!” she pleaded as she backed away, her eyes wide with fear.

“Not like what, Brandi?” Melissa asked gently as she rose and stepped towards her. There was no turning back now. “Not when it’s the very thing you need so you don’t lose your mind?”

Brandi stopped as she backed against the opposite wall and she began trembling. She looked so lost and frightened, and Melissa almost relented and left the room. But it was too late for that, and to leave Brandi now could irreparably damage their friendship. Instead she reached out and took Brandi’s hand, pulling her arm away from her breasts and drawing her back to the bed. She turned her so that her back was to the bed and then touched her breasts gently, lovingly. Then she brushed Brandi’s hair aside and began kissing her shoulder, working her way up to her neck.

“Melissa…” Brandi pleaded.

“Shhh, it’s all right, sweetheart,” Melissa whispered as she kissed Brandi’s neck. Her touch was driving Brandi to heights she had never known were possible.

“I know you have some notion about wanting it to be right, perfect. Well, that may never happen,” Melissa said. “But, you need this. It wasn’t just the crowd tonight, was it? It wasn’t the kiss from Dylan either. The vibrator isn’t enough anymore.”

Tentatively Brandi slipped her arms around Melissa’s waist, her eyes closing as Melissa fondled her breasts once again. Her nipples were engorged and hard and the sensation was gloriously excruciating.

“No, it’s not,” she admitted breathlessly, her lips seeking Melissa’s, her resistance melting.

“That’s because you need the touch of a lover,” Melissa whispered. “And we can be that, even if we find out later that this isn’t really love. To be honest I don’t know myself; I’ve never been in love before really.”

Melissa cupped Brandi’s chin in her hand and tilted her head down slightly so she could look into her eyes.

“But, I know I have never felt for anyone what I feel for you,” she told her. “If it is love, we’ll know soon enough. And if it’s not, we’ll know that too. No matter what I will always be your friend, and right now my friend needs me. I want to be with you, Brandi, and you need to be with someone. Let it be me…let me help you.”

Brandi bit her lip and nodded her head slowly, allowing Melissa to lower her gently to the bed. With the help of her friend, she took the next glorious step in her journey.

End of Part 3

Notes:

As always your comments are welcome and encouraged!