

### TRANSMUTATION

by Aimee Norin

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2014, 2015 by Aimee Norin. All rights reserved. Beyond the legal minimum, no portion of this book may be reproduced or shared. Email Aimee Norin at aimeenorin@gmail.com

This novel is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons living or dead is coincidental, including but not limited to any persons, companies, universities, news media channels and networks, organizations and clubs, et cetera.

This novel is for mature understanding. Scenes involving any sex, violence or harsh language are at a minimum, such that were it a film, I believe it could be shown on broadcast, prime-time television.

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### TRANSMUTATION

By

Aimee Norin

Begin Reading

Preface

Copyright Page

Table of Contents

About the Author

Contact the Author

### PREFACE

What would happen with people and society in general if a machine were revealed that could rejuvenate everyone in seconds—with any body of their choosing? A spectrum of intersex and gender diversity? The end to closets and bigotry? War? Chaos? How would we manage material resources? What about overpopulation?

What would happen if that machine were presented by an alien from outer space whose people have been here on the earth for 100,000 years? How has the species been influenced? How could that affect religions? Social organization? How would the thought process mature if we lived for thousands of years?

_TRANSMUTATION_ is a Sci-Fi novel, commentary on sex, gender and intersex-related social issues, which brings trans life to every person on earth. A fast read, it moves through tragedy, desperation, and excitement, to fun and humor, ending on a very positive note.

Lori Faraday is 20,000 years old and has been living as a human on Earth for 12,000 years. She came from an advanced culture. In pain from losing yet another loved-one, she breaks with her code of ethics to give a technology to the world that allows people to rejuvenate for health and longevity, to transmute into a new, young-adult body of individual choosing—retaining the original brain (with health improvements) so the person is not a copy—curing all physical ailments and extending life indefinitely.

_Transmutation_ spans the solar system including the United States, the Middle East, Russia, Indonesia, and the White House on planet Earth, and also to various locations in outer space—dealing rapidly with a number of issues:

LIFE AND DEATH: Chapter 1 is desperate. Lori's husband is dying. She fights for his life, unable to help.

GENDER CHANGE: Chapters 11-34. There are several characters who change gender—in fact, it turns out, when a new one is available, a lot of people choose it.

REPARATIVE THERAPY: Chapter 31. Scenes make it clear, the importance of saving helpless children from misguided attempts to "fix" gender issues in children. With conversion therapy and from a thousand other sources, children are denied needed, relevant health care and get the message their gender needs are demeaned, and that is not tolerated in this social evolution. Matter of fact— Well, you'll see.

TRANS: Chapters 2-34. Everyone becomes trans in one way or another: transgender, trans-speces, transformed. In order to help society know who has transmuted, and until new forms of I.D. are utilized, a "T" is placed on the left temple by the transmuters. When an 80-year-old man becomes a 20-year-old woman, it's easy to lose track.

ALIENS FROM OUTER SPACE: Chapter 5. The Ahleth are from another planet, far away. They are peaceful explorers who decided to stay about 12,000 years ago, though the earth has been visited for about 100,000 years.

INTERSEX: Chapters 8-34. Lori is Ahleth, and the Ahleth are intersex by birth and nature. Each individual will over time choose any body they wish from available templates they've prepared, but even if they sometimes choose to appear as classicly male or female for social reasons, they are intersex, privately, able to function in any capacity. Many people choose to become intersex, as well as trans.

INTER-SPECIES EVOLUTION: Chapters 2-34. Hurting, crying, in anguish at the loss of her husband, she slams all her ethics to the curb in a decision to save her aging Spaniel, the other love of her life, and uses her transmuter to help the dog evolve into a human being, blending in her own template as a guide.

BIGOTRY: Chapters 2-34, example is Chapter 27. Bigotry falls by the wayside as people choose trans living, a different race, or other features, over and over again.

WAR: Evolving through Chapters. Wars erupt over challenged values. People grapple with what we're doing and why.

RELIGION: Chapters 30-34. Ahleth have guided the development of humans for millennia and have tried several times in the past to "come out" to populations—yet earlier people were prone to misunderstanding, sometimes with disastrous results.

HEALTH OF THE EARTH: Throughout. If people could live longer, what about over-population? Availability of material resources? Polution? Starvation? And then, what also of the retention of genius? Of a mind that matures in thinking beyond the first century of life? Of societies with new, longer-term perspectives on things that matter?

_Transmutation_ provides the opportunity to exhibit wide-ranging variations in individual expression and issues of tolerance and acceptance of self and others _in the hearts of people who never considered such things._ This novel brings trans issues home to them about what it means to be different, puts variation right in their lap, and even normalizes differentness.

The tone is funny at times, heavy at other times, yet loving and tolerant throughout.

Indeed, it is entirely motivated by love.

Aimee Norin

BRIEF INTRODUCTION

A 20,000-year-old extraterrestrial, hurt by the death of her husband, evolves her dog into a human and gives advanced technology to the world which allows transmutation into new and younger, healthier bodies, including as well of other shapes or sexes/genders. This spotlights her to the world media, which reveals her origins and her plans. The world grapples with immense changes.

### CHAPTER

### 1

Lorelai Faraday didn't wake at 6:00 a.m., because she hadn't slept. Her eyes hurt, her arms, her back, her forehead, as if she'd been pushed past the point of exhaustion years ago in a marathon of care for her dying husband—but she couldn't give up. Never! She frowned behind closed eyes.

No! she screamed inside. Why do we have to die? She took a shallow breath and raised one tired hand to rub her forehead. It did no good; her body ached from head to foot. Had she not slept at all? If she'd had more energy, she could have tried to remember what the clock had said last night when she looked at it last, but the thought was too complex to formulate.

A tear rolled down the side of her face to her ear.

She had to keep going, she knew. Nothing could be more important.

Open my eyes! she screamed to herself, determined to make them obey.

A cry escaped her, and she begged for help—there it was: a wet nose in her right ear that forced her to move. Her hand rose to the back of Marie's head. Lori turned, eyes still closed, to give Marie a kiss on her soft, furry cheek. It was a morning ritual. She knew it meant so much, and she tried to give her thirteen-year-old, liver and white English Springer Spaniel little girl the morning love she craved, all fifty pounds of her. She tried to appear happy for her girl and felt it would have to be enough, this morning, to pet her and hold her a bit, because Lori hadn't been able to bring an honest smile to her lips in a long time.

Function, move! she told herself. Shower. Dress. Forget the makeup. Forget the hair. This is important. Get organized and get to the hospital.

She opened her eyes to look at her love, kissed her again on the forehead, feeling rewarded with a nudge and what she could swear was a smile.

Marie lay down by Lori's arm and nudged her, trying to wiggle inbetween Lori's arm and the sheets.

"Yeah, yeah. Good girl."

She rubbed her eyes some more. "I'm going."

She slowly pulled the blanket back and sat on the edge of the bed.

The morning sun was bright in her eyes, or would have been if the curtains were open.

The yard was beautiful, or would have been if it were mowed.

The house was lovely, or would have been if it were clean.

Mommy and baby trekked down the stairs to the kitchen.

Function, Lori kept telling herself. Function.

The kitchen was—she looked at it—a total wreck. Lori stood there, among the cluttered counters, unable to move.

Marie pranced in her elderly way and nuzzled Lori's leg. Marie needed her morning turkey dog, Lori knew, which gave her the energy to open the fridge. Empty, almost. Half a gallon of milk, some butter, two old potatoes, and a half package of turkey dogs. She gave one to Marie, which made the little girl's morning.

Lori didn't have the time or energy left to waste on extra steps or luxurious comfort. She'd been gong at it too hard for too long.

Coffee cup, the only clean dish left: spray with non-stick. Dump three eggs in it. Cover with paper towel. Stick it in microwave thirty seconds. Milk in paper cup. Drink pills down.

Pills! Why am I taking these pills?

Reach over to get Marie's morning pills organized, carefully, surreptitiously, without emphasis, hoping Marie wouldn't notice.

Pull out eggs from microwave, stir, put paper towel on top again, stick 'em back in for another thirty seconds. Open the peanut butter jar, scoop out a finger full, dab Marie's pills and turn to give them to her—

Marie ran as fast as she could—barely more than a walk, at her age—out her doggie door onto the patio.

Smart girl.

Lori tried to catch her before she got through, but she wasn't fast enough.

"Sweetheart!" she called out to Marie. "They're good for you!"

Marie stared at Lori through the sliding glass door.

"Trust Mommy," Lori said, pleading. She didn't have time to spend playing games with Marie to get her to take her pills.

Take eggs out of microwave, stir/chop them up, and put them back in the microwave for the last thirty seconds. Reach in fridge for another turkey dog—Marie hobbles back into the kitchen—and Lori, peanut butter still on finger, steps in front of the doggie door blocking Marie's path.

Marie gave in with a slight sagging of her head.

Peanut butter, with pills inside, went in to the side of Marie's mouth, way at the back. Or most of it did. Marie gagged the glob down and tried to lick the peanut butter off her lips.

"I know you don't like it, love. But you've got to have it."

Lori forgot about her economy of steps and collapsed on the kitchen floor to cry and hold Marie tightly.

"Baby!" Lori cried, her tears soaking into Marie's fur.

Marie knew something was wrong and pressed against Lori's neck.

"I love you so much, Marie," she told her. She stroked her head, ears, and back. "How can I explain this to you?" she asked rhetorically, knowing she couldn't. So she switched to loving consolation, cupped Marie's face in her hands, and recited a familiar story to help Marie feel better: "You were such a little thing—big head, big feet, small butt—when you were a baby. And you said, 'Please love me. Please give me a home. I need you,' and Daddy and I said, 'Oh, we do love you, too, and this is your home, and we need you just as much.'"

Marie knew it was true, she was sure.

"'Oh,' you said, 'I just need food, and play, and more food, and to jump up on the bed, and food, tear into the trash, and love and play,' and we said, 'That's what we need, too.'"

Lori smiled greatly at the happy girl and kissed Marie on the top of the head for the millionth time.

But to herself, she thought, and now I could lose you both. She didn't want to say it out loud on the chance Marie's spirit may hear part of it.

She forgot her eggs in the microwave.

Lori rapidly checked the trunk of the car for supplies. It was fairly well set. The plastic tub was full of supplies, sanitizers, water bottles for medicine and food delivery, first aid kit... The wheelchair was ready. The tub in the back seat of the car was ready, for in-car service as needed: more sanitizers, bandaids (because the sanitizers cracked her skin sometimes), polysporin, more water bottles, tweasers, napkins, two extra cans of TwoCal G-tube food, a replacement G-tube, a replacement colostomy bag, a stethoscope, an oxygen/pulse meter...

What am I doing? He's in the hospital. We don't need all this today.

Her phone was charged, but she plugged it into the power port anyway, to make sure.

Lori drove rapidly but carefuly through the morning traffic, hyper-aware of anything that could delay her—a wreck would slow her down. She touched the phone icon on the steering wheel as she drove.

A car pulled out from an intersection, and Lori braked just enough while she talked into the car's mike: "Call Med Pharmacy."

"Calling Med Pharmacy at Work," her car said back to her.

She checked her mirrors and decided to stay in the lane behind the slower car, for now.

Lori could hear a few clicks on the car's phone, then the pharmacy's voice mail. "This is Lori Faraday, just checking to see if you've gotten those two new G-tubes in yet, size 'Twenty F' as in foxtrot. I need replacements. Please call. Thank you." She pressed the button the steering wheel to hang up.

A red light caused her to slow and stop for a few minutes.

She picked up her telephone and texted the doctor for a status report. He wouldn't be in yet to answer his phone.

Traffic began moving again.

Lori moved the car as fast as she could without causing a wreck, turning on her turn signals, efficiently changing lanes in the minimum possible time.

"Call Nursing Home," she told the car again.

"Calling Nursing Home at Work," it said back to her. The call went through, and she finally got the admitting coordinator. "Just letting you know that he's going to get better, and we'll be coming back. Please hold his bed, okay?"

Lori waited impatiently while she filled her tank at the gas station, but it was a kind of impatience that others wouldn't notice: an efficiency of movement, no wasted effort or time. Ready, when the pump clicked off at a full tank, she spent no more than a second removing the handle and placing it back in the pump, simultaneously closing the car's fuel door with her other hand, while her right foot raised to step back into the car, the door already open. Her movements were not seemingly hurried, but the moment the pump handle was replaced, she was back in her car and moving quickly but safely toward the road again.

Stepping off the elevator, she saw a sanitizer on the wall and, without stopping, squirted some in her hand, rubbing it over her face and hands thoroughly while she walked.

"Good morning," she said to the nursing staff as if she weren't pressured, only recognizing two of them—they changed all the time—and went straight to his room.

Gowned, gloved, and masked per his isolation, Lori stood by her husband's bedside, leaning over him, her face inches from his, holding his hand, watching him fade. It was pneumonia that put him in the hospital again, and it had probably developed because of Parkinson's, his advanced age, and his infirmity.

She knew about Parkinson's, but he wouldn't let her help. It was his dictate to her.

The head of his bed was up at a thirty-five degree angle, to help his lungs. His mouth hung open all the time, too lax to close. A bag of antibiotics hung on the stand, dripping into his withered arm. A clear, plastic tube was inserted into his nose to maintain his oxygen level.

She leaned closer and kissed him softly on the lips, through her mask, but she doubted he knew. He was unconscious, and so weak that if he were conscious, he may still not know.

She reached up with a trembling, gloved hand to brush his hair back and cupped his ear with her hand.

"John, this is Lori. I'm here. I'm here, John," she repeated in the hope that if he were even a little there, he may respond, slowlty, to her voice. "Listen to me, John. Listen to me close. Listen to my voice: I'm here. We're here, together."

Leaning closer to his ear, so they could be private from the nurses who may be listening in on the monitor, she helped him, yet again, in prayer: "Thank you, God, for bringing John into my life. And thank you, God, for letting me be part of his. Thank you God, for bringing us together, for he is the greatest person in the world."

His eyes had been mostly closed, lifeless, but at the start of her prayer, he opened them to the half-closed position he used when he prayed, at least in recent years.

So he's awake enough to know we're praying!

Slowly, softly, she continued in the the style she'd heard from him before, as if helping him to form his own words, yet in a way to help him know he was loved, giving him credit he would never give himself: "God bless John," she beseeched. "Make him well and strong. Bless him for he means more to me than everything. Bless him, I beg you, for he has done so much for others. He helped win a major world war and helped prevent another—"

She saw him react a little to that, as it was true, and it mattered. "Yes," she softly said to both God and him. "Yes. A magnificent life—and God help him to know that I know, too." She smiled at him behind her mask. Tears began in her eyes and made their way down her cheeks, collecting in her mask, but she maintained her voice. She had to. "God bless John, because he helped save so many lives. Bless him, God, because he is a good man. Bless him, God, because I love him." She said it over and over again, because she wanted to make sure he heard her, and she hoped he understood.

His lips moved slightly, and she thought she read part of it.

"Yes. I know you love me, too. And you know I love you, too." He seemed to rest at that.

"Bless me, too, Dear God, that I may be strong and know what to do to help him most.

"And God bless Marie, for she brought even more love into our lives. Make her well and strong, and help me to fill her life with joy and appreciation, that she may know how much we love her, too."

He stirred again.

"Yes," she said to both God and him again, "Yes, she loves us so much, and we love her, too." She thought she noted a response in him. It was so slight, she wasn't sure, but she knew he loved their little girl as much as she did.

Lori gripped his hand more tightly, hoping it would reassure him.

"Is that your father?" A nurse came in the room with a smiling face, gloved, half-donning her gown, no mask. John was in isolation at Lori's request, via the doctor, not to protect others from him, but to protect him from them, bacteriologically. He was so frail.

"Isolation procedures, please!" Lori said in earnest through her mask. "It's posted by the doctor!" The nurse backed out, annoyed. Then Lori finished, "No. He's my husband," she said after her.

"Oh," the nurse was embarrassed at her comment. "I'll come back later."

"It's a common assumption. But it was my fault," Lori said, a little less sharply, staying by John's ear while talking with the nurse. "I was late."

In truth, she was early, just in the wrong place for a while.

Then Lori looked beyond the nurse. John's primary physician lingered in the hallway with a sad look in his eyes.

Low hung stratus clouds grayed everything for hundreds of miles. The sea was dark and flat, lifeless. The air was a damp chill that penetrated every bone in her body.

Lori and Marie walked the isolated beach together.

Marie was such a natural bird dog, and she didn't even know it. They'd never been hunting. But no matter what, she still had to be fifty feet out in front, and then she'd walk side-to-side, a limp on her right hind leg, looking for anything fun to play with. When she was younger, she'd run side-to-side and everywhere else like a wayward quark finding its infinite paths through the universe, but at her age, and with her illnesses, she was doing well to hobble. It took heavy pain medicine every day to keep Marie going. Without it, she couldn't even get up.

Lori suddenly turned on her heels to walk in exactly the opposite direction, a fun game they'd played all Marie's life, so Marie—always game—hobbled as well as she could to get fifty feet out in front of Lori, glancing back, tongue hanging out of her mouth, seemingly to make sure Lori noticed she'd done it, and to share the fun. Then she scouted dutifully around for something fun to find. Irritated seagulls fled. No sense of humor.

Lori froze in her tracks. Her eyes filled with tears.

Daddy will never see that again!

She melted onto the sand, crumbled on her own legs. Her face distorted into a cry, and she screamed her anguish outloud to the cosmos in a long, painful wail.

Marie came over and nuzzled Lori, no more play in her heart. She knew something was wrong.

Lori wrapped her arms around Marie's little warm body and held her close against the cold. Her tears soaked down her cheeks onto Marie's soft fur—as soft as a little girl's. More like hair, than fur, she'd always felt. She held Marie hard against her and kissed her cheeks, her forehead. Marie licked her mother's nose.

How could she discuss the wonders of the universe with Marie? How could she tell her about life after death? How could she beg Marie for help, when she knew Marie couldn't understand? How could she ever explain that she could have saved her father, but he wouldn't let her?

"No," he'd said. It wasn't that he didn't want to live. He did, she knew. But it was his belief that the world wasn't ready, yet, for those cures.

"Life is the most precious thing in the universe!" Lori had shouted at him. "And yours is so bright!"

He was unmoved.

"The most precious thing in the universe," she'd shout again. "You hear me? Out of all the atoms that exist, of all the cosmic dust that collects, of all the suns that form and cook molecules, then blow up and scatter them throughout the universe, some reorganize into beings like us! Life! Beings who can think about everything else! Move independently. Live and love! It's a bloody miracle! Life is the most amazing thing in the universe! Death is such a loss, such a waste, to never live again! A beautiful spirit lives and learns how to live, and then at death— What?! Nothing? It's all gone? You spend a life-time learning things, developing who you are into something that's really coming together, and then you die, and it's all gone?"

She had been persuasive.

But it did no good on him.

"It's not all gone, then," he told her.

"Kwai Chang? Ripples in the pond, Grasshopper?!" She said in anger, truly pissed off, mocking his philosophy.

He smiled and hugged her. "Not only that."

She knew. He believed in a spiritual life after death. A brilliant man, a Nobel Price-winning physicist, he was really a simple man. His view of the cosmos was uncluttered with her complexities.

He'd hugged her in his weakening arms.

"I can do something about it!" she demanded through his shoulder. "You know I can!"

"I know. But don't," was all he said.

And she knew, now, she should have done it anyway.

John!

Lori held onto Marie more tightly.

Marie leaned against her as she had so much lately.

"I wish I could tell you, Honey." She paused trying to impart a spiritual message to her little one, along with her words, in the hope Marie might on some level understand. She couldn't say it out loud, and she couldn't continue any more.

Her face distorted into a wrinkled mess. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, as she cried, relentlessly, against her darling's neck.

In time, when she could speak, she screamed outloud to John, God, and everybody: "No, damnit! NO!"

Marie jumped a little, but stayed in Lori's embrace.

Lori held Marie's face far enough away to look into her eyes. "No! You're not going to die, too. You hear me?"

Lori wiped tears off her face with her shoulder.

Marie heard her, but was concerned for her mommy.

"You're going to live, you hear me? Come on!" Lori got up to go, taking an always-eager Marie with her.

CHAPTER

2

Still in efficiency mode, not willing to take any chances with heart attack, stroke, automobile accidents, meteor strike or anything else, Lori raced home at legal speed to save her daughter's life.

Look for cars.

Mind the lights.

Use turn signals.

Head on a swivel.

Drive safely.

Get home in one piece.

Don't let anything interrupt or delay this!

It had been far too long in coming. She just couldn't go against John on it while he lived. His will be done, she had said so many times in her mind, disregarding the famous quote. He was such a great man.

But she'd be damned if she'd give up her daughter's life for it now. She didn't have to. She didn't need to. She knew how to save her.

John had known about Lorelai. "The world isn't ready for that," he'd told her. It could cause wars, economic disasters, upset the whole balance of world cultures. They need to discover it for themselves. Don't spring it on them..."

And she'd gone along with him, while he lived.

Lori stopped for a red light, perfectly just before the threshold, waited cautiously but impatiently for someone to cross the stree, then looked carefully both ways and turned right on the red light.

Marie sat on the passenger seat, riding patiently, looking at Lori.

Lori glanced at her.

The English Springer Spaniel seemed happy for the look.

Lori wiped a tear from her eye with her right hand, as she looked at all nearby traffic. She put her right hand back on the dog and turned on her left blinkers and turned the car left onto the next road, both with her left hand.

"Good girl," she said to Marie. "Mommy loves you so much."

Life, she knew was life. A person is a person; it didn't matter if she was a dog! You know love! You learn things! You gather life experiences, and then all for what?

You die and you're gone?

She wouldn't stand for it.

After all, Lori was human, wasn't she? She'd been human for, like, years! What difference did it make where her knowledge came from? She was as good as any other person, and she had something to contribute.Yes, it was going to rock the boat, maybe upset the boat—so everybody on the boat's going to have to learn to be responsible!

The alternative was worse, she knew, to just go around and let everyone die all the time!

"To Hell with that!" she screamed at the universe over her steering wheel.

Marie looked over at Lori from the right seat and asked, with her eyes, if she could get on Mommy's lap for the drive.

"Sit tight," Lori told Marie. "Momma's working. You'll see."

Marie seemed disappointed, but settled down in her seat.

Intersections.

Turns.

Watch the speed.

Watch the cars.

Home.

Driveway.

Garage door up.

Lori backed the car into the garage—like always. It was the safest way, because she could clear the area visually before backing in, which would be harder to do if backing out.

She pressed the remote in the car to lower the garage door and realized she hadn't taken a breath in a while.

She let out some air.

Thank you, God, for getting us here safely.

John really had influenced her thinking. Before him, she never prayed like that.

Lori got out of the car with Marie close behind her, happy as a clam, hobbling on that right rear leg.

She walked carefully into their unassuming, 34-year-old tract house, habitually clearing it—sights, sounds... She looked around. It appeared normal: Swiss Coffee off-white ceilings, knockdown texture, the faintest yellow walls in the living room with comfy-floral quilted furniture, John's brown leather furniture in the family room... The house alarm was beeping at her; she turned it off.

"Lwaxana," she said commandingly. "Status."

"The house has not been disturbed," said the computer in a clear, distinct, female voice. John had programmed the computer—did he like the actress or what? Lori could have programmed it, but John was having fun.

Marie went to lie on her blanket by the fireplace in the family room.

Lori locked the door to the garage and visually checked as well the front and side doors, both within view.

"Close the curtains," Lori said to Lwaxana. "Lock the doors. Secure the house."

Lori saw a couple of the curtains close that had been left open, heard subtle clicks as already-locked doors locked again.

"The house is secure."

"No internet connection now?"

"The house is secure. There is no internet connection at this time."

"Open the vault," Lori said.

"Vault opening." The computer's voice was pragmatic.

The family room couch moved away from the wall to expose clean tile flooring underneath, then a large section of the tile flooring rose to the side, hinged along the baseboards, to reveal a staircase leading down into a basement. John had recommended an elevator there, but Lori knew from long experience that low-tech was best. In a small, isolated operation like this, surprising things could go wrong, sometimes, Lori was often alone, the stairs couldn't break, and Lori was very sure-footed.

"Marie," Lori called to her love. "Come on." She smiled at the dog and patted her right thigh with her right hand.

Marie looked happy at the invitation and got up, hobbled over to Lori, then followed her down the stairs.

The lights came on automatically as they entered.

Where the house had been unremarkable in every way, the basement was ultra-modern. It was a rectangle, about ten by twenty, with what appeared to be stainless steel walls, ceiling and floor, an array of equipment along all the walls—with what would have appeared to be a CT scanner against the back wall with some large mechanical beams leaning over it from the back side, adjacent to the wall.

Lori squatted beside Marie on the floor and talked to her. "Honey, I love you."

Marie licked Lori's nose.

"You see that?" Lori pointed at the large machine, and Marie even seemed to look at it.

"Mommy's going to help you." Lori tried to seem calm and unuurried for Marie's benefit. How would she live with it if Marie had a stroke while she joked? "Lets get up on it." Lori reached under Marie with both arms and, with some effort, lifted the 50-pound dog onto the human-sized platform.

Marie sat down on it, happy to do anything.

"Now stay," Lori told her daughter with a sincere effort at a smile, holding her hand in front of Marie's face, palm out. 'Stay' was not Marie's greatest skill. "Gimme a second."

Lori's tone of voice changed, became business-like.

"Ready the subject."

Marie looked around.

"She is not human," Lwaxana said.

"I know. She's not human," Lori told Lwaxana. "But we'll learn."

A pattern materialized on a holoscreen in front of Lori, as if on a computer screen, but there was no screen, and Lori watched while it changed several times.

"Adjust to it," she said sternly.

Lori reached out to touch the screen in an evolving pattern, sometimes with multiple fingers simultaneously, sometimes with only one. Once, the screen halted, and Lori looked at it with a warning, and it continued.

"Scan her again."

Marie looked like she wouldn't sit still much longer.

"Gentle neural relaxation," Lori told the computer.

Marie's eyes drooped.

"A little more."

Marie slowly slumped into a restful sleep.

Lori turned Marie so her head and spine were along the machine's longitudinal axis, then reached over to slightly adjust her head, again.

"Secure her."

Two straps emerged from below to cradle Marie's head, and only her head.

CHAPTER

3

Lorie and Marie got off the elevator on the sixth floor of the ultra-modern law firm's office building, walked right past the receptionist's ultramodern desk and down the hall toward Bernie Katz' ultramodern office.

Marie ran ahead of Lori to investigate everything in the hallway.

"Stay out of the conference room, Marie!" Lori ordered. "Get ahold of yourself!"

The look on Marie's face resembled a question, a demanding, "Why!" but she complied with her mother's request.

"Wait!" the receptionist yelled as they disappeared down the hall, but they were gone before the word was finished.

No time to waste. Too much time had been wasted already.

Lori pressed the latch of Bernie's office and walked in.

"Bernie!"

Bernie looked up at her, but he was on the phone. He held up his hand for Lori to wait. "Yes, Your Honor. I'll bring my client there tomorrow morning at nine." Silence for two heartbeats. "Yes. We'll do it. We won't be late." Two more heart beats. "Bye, Judge."

Lori stormed the rest of the way in and remained standing. Marie prowled around the office sniffing things, went over to Bernie for some love.

Bernie knew what had happened. "Lori. I'm so sorry for John." He extended a warm hand in comfort. Her husband had become his friend, as well, lo these many years.

Lori's armor broke. She teared and sat down in a chair across from his desk.

He handed her a tissue box. She took two.

"What'd you do with Marie?" Bernie asked patting the eager dog on the head. "She looks as spry as I've ever seen her."

A secretary showed up at the door, but seeing Lori was welcome. The secretary backed out and closed the door.

Lori still didn't speak.

"I loved him, too," Bernie said. "Best person I ever knew."

She regained some of her composure. "Bernie: You've handled his patents well through the years, and I need something else from you."

"Name it." He leaned forward on his desk to give her his full attention.

She handed him a nine by twelve envelope, with not more than thirty pages in it.

He looked through the envelope's contents, including a check for fifty thousand dollars.

"This is real?" He shook it, tasted it, held the check up to the light.

Lori showed no humor at his joke.

"That's a retainer. You'll charge me more later."

"Oh, good," Bernie said. "Love that. But what for?"

"I need you to form two companies for me, and get some more patents—not for inventing the thing, but for my process of using it."

"Two companies?" It was a non-thinking statement. She was obviously serious.

"The details are in there: one for the company, the other for me. I need you to drop everything as soon as possible and do this."

Bernie began looking at the other papers from the envelope. He glanced up at Lori. "What's this?" He glared at the papers. "You did what?"

"How long to form the companies?" Lori asked. "How long to codify that the invention is mine?"

"I can—" Bernie stuttered. "Drop everything?" He looked at her papers again. "These companies will do what?!"

"How long to confirm, legally, that the process is mine," Lori pushed.

"I— I can do it now. Now. I've done it a thousand times—" Smoke was beginning to trickle out of Bernie's ears. "You mean this? Really? What this says?" He showed Lori's papers to her.

Lori realized she was scaring him, so she purposefully adopted a fake-calm demeanor. "Bernie. It's just an invention. Can you file it now, please? Right now?"

"Yes! Yes, I can."

"What about the judge?" Lori asked.

"That was golf." Bernie made a dismissive motion with his free hand and rifled through her papers some more.

Lori got out of her chair and walked around his office. She couldn't sit still.

Marie nuzzled one of Bernie's plants by the window.

"Prove this," Bernie said to Lori.

"I can't 'prove it,' right now, but all will become clear soon. However—"

Lori looked at Marie. I can't stop it from getting out; all I need is time. She held up one finger for Bernie to look. "Marie?"

Marie looked at Lori.

"Will you answer some questions for Bernie?"

Marie looked at Bernie and waited.

"Go ahead, ask her."

"Ask her what?"

"Just do it, Bernie! I've got places to go!"

"Okay! Marie," Bernie asked, "What's two plus two?"

Marie looked at Lori.

"I haven't taught her arithmetic, yet. Go off what's in this office."

Bernie didn't get it, so Lori stepped in.

"Marie," Lori said, "Do you love me?"

Marie's face seemed to relax into something that most dog owners would sense as a smile.

"I love you, too. Do you love Bernie?"

Marie started to pant.

"Well then, why not give him a kiss on his round, puffy nose over there?"

Marie seemed very happy to oblige and jumped up on Bernie's lap to lick him in the nose.

"Smart dog," Bernie said.

"It runs in the family," Lori said. "Marie, can you show Uncle Bernie how we dance at home?"

Marie jumped off his lap and ran to the middle of his office. Lori raised her arms and mimicked a little belly dance, and Marie copied her on all fours, wiggling her hind quarters.

Bernie laughed at the playful dog. "But—" he turned to Lori. "Doesn't she have a bad hip? I remember—"

"Can you do it on your back legs?" Lori asked Marie.

Marie gave a soft bark and rose onto her back legs, jumping slightly into the air, settling back onto all fours, turning tightly in her "dance" as if she were chasing her tail.

"Isn't she 14 or thereabouts?" Bernie asked. "I thought she was—" He stopped with a concerned look on his face.

"Go ahead and say it," Lori said. "Go ahead."

Bernie said quietly, "I thought she was gonna leave us, soon?"

Marie barked at him smartly, jumped up on his lap again, and licked him again on the nose.

Lori reached over to pet her love. "Not any more."

Bernie face went slightly ashen, and he began to stare off into the distant future. "You've got this? You did this already?"

Lori forced a smile at him.

"Marie," Lori asked, "you think he'll catch up?"

Marie lay against Bernie's chest for a second.

"You want to tell Uncle Bernie what you said to me on the way over here?"

Marie shook her head yes, and over the course of two breaths, one for each syllable, said, "Na-Na."

Bernie jumped out of his chair.

Marie landed on his desk, but distiurbed nothing.

Lori walked over to hold his shoulders. "I think she means "Mama," but she doesn't have the breath or tongue muscles right to really form the word.

Marie looked at her and nodded her head.

"That's it." Lori smiled largely at her daughter. "And you're 'Marie.' I love you, too, honey."

"What did you do to her?!" Bernie demanded.

"Are you an officer of my company? Are you gonna form these two companies now: one for transmutation that will be major and one for research, a separate company entirely with only me in it. Are you going to confirm my ownership officially now? And get all this done today?"

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Bernie stared at Marie while he took his seat back in front of his desk. He got onto his computer and went to work. He touched his intercom. "Nancy! Coffee for two!"

"I don't want anything coffee," Lori said. "I have work to do."

Bernie typed furiously on his computer. "And you invented this? Not John?"

Lori shook her head no. "This is my work, not John's."

"Where'd you get your Ph.D.?"

"I don't have one."

"Where'd you learn to do this?"

The door opened and Nancy came in with two coffees, left them on his desk.

"Hold my calls, Nan, please. I'm really cranking this out here."

Nancy left the room.

"That," Lori said, "is where it gets even better."

Bernie stopped typing to look at her again.

"When this hits, and I mean it'll hit later today, I'm going to need you to field everything for me. I'm going to be besieged by everyone from the media to the government, and I need you to insulate me from it. Set up the Corporations. I'm going to give out your phone number, not mine. Handle my calls. Get some bank accounts going for me. Do whatever's needed. I've got your cell phone, and that's what I'll need to use from now on. When you want me, please contact me on my cell phone, but don't give my cell phone out to anyone.

"And please sign this." She put a piece of paper in front of him. "It says everything I just said, and a little more."

Bernie had become a good friend of theirs these last eight years. He and his wife had been over countless times, and they had been over to Bernie's many times as well. It was a marriage of personalities. They knew each other to be mature, forward-thinking, compassionate people, and they hit it off as a group.

So the big shot, chief legal counsel in what would become the world's largest company signed the form without giving it more than a glance.

She collected the paper from him. "Thanks," she took the time to say. Then she softened a bit. "I don't mean to seem gruff, Bernie. I'm sorry." She teared some more. "I just hate death, and I've decided I need to do something about it as soon as I can.

"Keep this all under your hat, Bernie. Don't tell anyone anything, and that's critical. Just sit on it for now until you settle into your role. I'll do all the talking. I've got a plan.

"I don't dougbt it!" he said.

"Will you keep Marie for a few days?"

Marie looked at Lori with sad eyes.

Lori cupped her shining face in her hands. "Love, I just have a lot of work to do for a while, and I won't be at home. I'm going to arrange for us a new house, also, and when I get it set up, I'll come get you and we'll be there together."

Marie's groan said it all, but Lori looked to Bernie. "Will you?"

"Sure, any time."

Lori returned to Marie. "It's only for a while, I don't know, maybe a couple weeks. My guess is, with investors wanting in, it may be a couple weeks before Bernie can get us a new house in a compound with fencing and gates that will allow us a little privacy."

"I can do all that?" Bernie asked.

"You can, now," Lori said. "Everything's gonna change, and very fast."

"You'll see, Marie, my love." Lori kissed Marie on the forehead and held Marie's face agsinst her cheek, then hugged Marie's entire body.

CHAPTER

4

Lori to the Western Polytechnic University campus, "Westech," as everyone referred to it, walked rapidly through huge, old trees and stately buildings. Westech has produced about as many Nobel Prize winning scientists as M.I.T. and Caltech.

She angled for the main biology building, hunted for Cornelius C. Peckington, Ph.D., Chair of the Division of Biology and long-time friend of theirs—John's and hers. He'd been on T.V. documentaries numerous times, beloved both because of his science and his playful personality.

She needed him, and she needed him fast.

She cut across the grass between sidewalks.

Two students passing by were arguing about the latest hot-button political issue in the news: an immigration bill in the U.S. Congress.

"I'm just sick at this fascist, anti-immigration whacko B.S.," one student said to the other.

"Big Cadence said she'd veto it, and she's Pres."

"But bad dudes got some momentum—they look at the number of immigrants in prisons, and they point out they're the ones causing the trouble in this country."

"That's because we're picking on them! It's discrimination. And opportunity—lack of opportunity—"

"Excuse me?" Lori flagged them down. "Where's Cory Peck right now?"

"Oh, I don't know," they said. "But we have a visiting professor from Stanford. He may have taken him to lunch at the Faculty Club?"

"Thanks!" Lori walked as rapidly as she could in that direction.

Lori walked through the large, open patio, where a hundred people were enjoying a luxurious buffet, right past the reception area, and into the main interior dining hall. She was always impressed with its grandeur, but that day she was on a mission.

She looked around, and— There he was at a table against the south wall, not far from the door, with another man, maybe the visitor.

Lori sat down without introduction at one of the chairs.

Cori looked up, in between forkfuls.

"Hi Cory," she said, then turning to the guest. "Hello. I'm Mrs. John Faraday—"

Cory, mouth full of pasta, turned to greet her, but his guest interrupted. "Oh, I'm so sorry to hear! My God, John. Everyone loved him. I'm so sorry. I'm Gadin Malhotra, from up state. Computer Science. Thinking of—"

Lorelai's manner was too stern and impatient to be ignored.

Cori stopped chewing, a strand of spaghetti hanging out of his mouth.

"Cori, I have to talk to you now. It's important."

"Want me to leave?" Gadin asked, starting to make the motions.

"No," Lori said. "Go ahead and stay. It's everybody's business, now."

"What's up?" Cori asked, slurping down his spaghetti.

Lori took a large envelope from her brief case and removed the papers within, laying them on the table.

Cori turned some of them around so he could read them, his eyes widened.

Gadin reached to touch the one Cori was looking at. "What is it?"

Cori turned to Lori. "If you weren't John's wife, I wouldn't take this seriously. Did John do this?"

Lori shook her head.

"Holy cow!" Gadin said as he read the paper Cori had been looking at. He reached for the rest of the papers and started scanning them. "Are you kidding me?"

"You did this?" Cori was aghast.

Lori didn't answer directly. Now wasn't the time. She just nodded. "I've just formed a company to handle it. We're in swing as we speak."

"You're kidding me?" Gadin said again, shaking his head, rifling through the papers. "This can't be!"

"It's real," she said sternly.

"It must be John's," Cori said not as quietly. "I don't know?" He looked at Lori again. "He was a Nobel Prize winner, but it was in physics. This deals more with biology, computer science, and electrical engineering—and physics. This can't be!" he said a bit more loudly, forgetting where he was, absorbed in what he was reading. "Jesus!" he yelled much louder.

People from other tables looked over at him. Many of them knew who he was and saw him reading feverishly through the packet.

"Look at this?" Gadin said loudly, shoving one of the pages in front of Cori. Gadin stood up on reflex, without thinking.

Other people stopped eating and talking, entirely, to watch and listen.

Lori knew this would happen, but it was best that it happen here, with friends and trusted people like Cori, not like in some science fiction disaster movie where she'd tell someone in private, and then she's killed or it gets stolen or the government gets ahold of it and then abducts her away to some secluded research lab where she can't control her own work.

Cori stood up with him.

"John must have done this," was all Cori could say. "He was the world class genius. Lori: You're his wife! A great cook, but—! How did you—? Where did this come from? Jesus!" he said again to Lori. "Just a minute! Stay there! Don't move!"

Cori started to run across the room but came back and cautioned her again, "Stay there!" he shouted, then he grabbed up all the papers, stumbled over himself to another table on the north side of the room where the President of the University was dining with some visiting dignitaries.

Lori could barely hear Cori scream his whisper into Dr. Abel D. Augustine's ear, President of the University, while he simultaneously dragged him from his chair, leading him by the hand back across the room to where Lori was still sitting.

The other people at Dr. Augustine's table followed in a trail.

"Look at this lady, Dr. Augustine," Cori said. She's John Faraday's wife, Lori. Look at this!" Cori showed him the packet.

Others stood around their table to have a look, also.

Dr. Augustine's eyes widened, and he looked at Lori.

"What is it?" another professor asked from a nearby table.

Dr. Augustine was absorbed in reading the papers.

"You wouldn't believe it!" Cori said absent-mindedly, running his fingers through his hair. "It's not possible! It can't be! I'm a biologist—"

"But it can be, Cori!" Gadin said. "I'm in computer science and electrical engineering, like Lynn Conway, and I can tell you—"

"What, already!" someone at another table demanded.

"Cori turned in circles and smiled, looked at everyone, started to cry but smiled again, ran his hands down his suit jacket, in the pockets then out of them. "I— I— It's— Okay! It's that— Lori, Can I say?"

Lori's voice was calm, compared to Cori's. "You might as well,' I've already put that packet on the intnernet. Sent it to a hundred universities. The whole planet's got it."

"Even M.I.T.?" Cori asked.

Lori nodded.

"Not M.I.T.!" Gadin gasped.

"What the hell'd you give it to them for?" Cory blurted out.

"Stanford?" Gadin asked.

Lori nodded again.

Most of the room brought out their cell phones to start checking.

"So blurt it out! Fess up!" someone yelled.

Cori stepped up to the first table in front of him, where waiting people sat, and addressed the entire Club with his pronouncement. "It's the end of life as we know it! No! It's the beginning of life as it will be! It's everything. It's what we dream of. It's what we need! Lori's got a way— It's rejuvenation, God help us! How to grow young again."

The room murmured.

"Actually more than that—" Lori said.

"And it works?" someone asked.

"For real?" another asked.

Lori nodded. "It's for real."

All eyes turned to her.

"It's a way to replace old tissue with new—" Lori said. "Selective, physical, computer-electronic transmutation."

Scientists and dignitaries alike stood and stared.

"A new body!" Cory said. "Oh, I could— It'll replace disease with health. Old with new— Everything!"

"And it works?" Dr. Augistine asked.

Lori nodded.

"How do you know?" Dr. Augustine asked again.

"Will you all at this Westech please protect me?"

"From what?" Cori asked.

"Just give me some sanctuary while the world adjusts? Keep them off me for a while? That's the part I need help with."

About twenty professors looked at each other. Dr. Augustine consulted many of them with his glance, then to Lori, "Yes, certainly."

Lori nodded her understanding. "Okay. The answer is because I've been using the transmuter for about twenty thousand years. Earth time.

CHAPTER

5

Dr. Augustine stood behind his desk in his office fighting for control of something, anything, in the room. Thirty people stood in the room with him. No one sat. Everyone was arguing.

Lori sat in a chair against the east wall, anti-stressing. She wiped tears from her eyes.

"You okay?" Cory asked her.

Lori nodded. "It's just that it's been so long."

"Twenty thousand years," Cory said with a boisterous smile.

Lori nodded again, "But I don't mean that. Life is good. I mean it's been so long since I've been dying to give this to the world."

Other scientists quit arguing for a second to listen to her.

"I see death in the world—people fighting, wars, disease, and it makes me sick! How can anything be as valued as life? You work to grow, to become someone you're pleased with, and then—bam—you're dead!"

More tears fell down her cheeks. She wiped at them, red faced, determined.

Cory reached out to touch her arm, but Lori pulled away, stood and walked to the window. There was a crowd of people below.

"Her husband died," someone told someone else.

Lori turned to face him. "Yes, but it's more than that. He's no more valuable than anyone else, is he? It's anybody's death. So now we're going to stop it."

The door opened, and his assistant came in with copies of "Lori's packet" as they referred to it, for everyone.

Half the people were on the phone while also talking with others present.

Eager hands reached out to grab the copies.

Lori sat in her chair again, beginning to relax for the first time since a long time.

"This won't work," one agitated man said to another.

"Half baked!" the other man said.

"What could this mean?"

Dr. Augustine's phone rang. He picked it up, "Not now, Martha!" He slammed the phone back down.

"People will live longer? We can't!"

"We must! We have to!"

Dr. Augustine's phone rang again. He picked it up. "Not now, Martha!" He slammed the phone back down again.

"What's wrong with it?" Cori asked the other man.

"The machine?"

"No! Living longer!" Cori asked.

"Nothing! But the earth cannot sustain it. Populations will explode. We'll kill ourselves in a few short years overtaxing natural resources!"

"So we learn to respect birth control!" Gadin stuck in.

"People won't do that!" someone else said.

"We can live on if we care for the planet," Lori said to them all.

Dr. Augustine's phone rang again. This time he consented— "What!" he said into it.

His eyes brightened. "What?"

People in the room stared at him.

"This is Dr. Augustine, President of Westech— Yes, she is— Dr. Gomez? No— Yes! Yes, I see that. We were— Yes, certainly."

Dr. Augustine held out the phone for Lori.

"Who is it?" Cory asked.

"It's Ella Gomez, the President's science advisor."

"Ella Gomez?" Some in the room murmured.

"Yeah," Gadin said. "Ph.D., Sc.D., beautiful, short black lady, smarter than all of us put together—maybe except Lori—"

"I'm not brilliant, Lori said."

"Yes, you are!" Cory said.

"Put her on loud speaker, please?" Lori said.

Dr. Augustine said into the phone, "Lori wants me to put the phone on loud speaker." He paused, then to Lori, "Dr. Gomez says it should be private."

Lori shook her head. "Loud speaker."

Several in the room smiled.

"But this is such a big deal!" Dr. Augustine urged.

Lori got up and went over to Dr. Augustine's desk, took the phon from his hand, pressed the button on the phone for the speaker and hung it up.

"Ella?" Lori asked.

"Yes," came Ella's voice on the phone. "Is this Lori Faraday?"

"Yes."

"Who else am I speaking with?"

"I don't know them all. Maybe thirty people in here." Lori inquired of the room. "Scientists?"

"Oh, yeah. Sure!" Everyone nodded.

"Hell, yeah!" Cory said.

"Me, too," Gadin said.

Cory slapped Gadin on the back.

"All scientists," Lori said. "Close enough. Listen, Ella—can I call you Ella?"

"Sure—"

"Is the president there with you?" Dr. Augustine asked.

"Not right now. But I just left her in the Oval Office."

"You got my email?" Lori asked.

"Yup. 'Fraid I did. So did she. And half the government. And the things I wish I'd have said to you! You gave it to the whole world?"

"Yes."

"I'd have done the same thing," Ella said. "Now no one can steal it or keep it a secret— Removes all the Top Secret stuff about it, no super races."

"Actually, the way that one is designed—the one I released—"

"There are others?" Ella asked.

"Yes. There have always been many. But the one I released, a simple version— Well, it'll take a month or so to work out the science, I guess. Then they'll start making them—"

"Why did you arrange it to take us a month?" Gadin asked.

"Who are you?" Ella asked

"Gadin Malhotra, Computer Sci, Stanford."

"Okay. Go ahead?"

"So why build in even a few months' wait?" Gadin asked Lori again.

"I've been thinking about this a long time, but it's a snap decision today. I just can't take the death any longer—John's or anybody else's. We—all of you and I—will get it up and working as soon as we can."

"People will die if we don't save them fast," an elderly gentleman said from the back."

"But more peole will die if we have wars over this," Lori said. "We've got to enter this new time of human evolution with caution. I've thought about this a long time. I'm breaking a lot of rules doing this—rules that have been in place for hundreds of thousands of years, for good reason, and—"

"So why did you?" Cory asked.

"Because I think the earth can stand it. The idea was that if a primitive species—"

Some people stirred.

"Us?"

"We are primitive, trust me," Cory said to them.

Lori continued. "Wars have broken out in other societies where mistakes have been made. Some people say that Earth isn't ready yet for this technology."

There was a slight pause.

"What other people?" Ella asked.

Lori looked at the others in the room. "Other people from my planet."

She could almost hear Ella nod on the other end of the phone.

Someone in the room dropped his papers.

"What planet?" Ella asked.

"Can we get into that later?"

"Might as well tell me," Ella said.

Everyone stared at Lori.

"Well, we're speaking English, and there is no way to say it, but it's like 'Ahleth,' if you will. AH-leth. That's the way I say it, now."

"Spelling?" Ella asked.

"A.H.L.E.T.H."

"Where is it?" Ella asked. "Anywhere near here?"

"Oh, you're worried about an invasion? Security?"

"Never know," Ella said.

"You don't have to worry about that," Lori said. "I was one of a group of visitors about twelve thousand years ago, when I got here. This is nothing new to Earth; just new to you."

"So there are more of you?" Gadin asked.

"Yes. A few. Not many left, and we've— We've lost touch, isolative by nature but we can find each other, sometimes. Some of them are probably looking for me as we speak. That's partly why I came here." Lori stepped near the phone and spoke clearly. "I don't just want you to keep me safe from people who may force their way in, the public or the press; I want you to keep me safe from them as well."

### CHAPTER

### 6

Everyone in Dr. Augustine's office came to Lori's immediate aid. Jackets and shoes were given to her, a hat from a hat stand, to disguise her.

Cory, Lori, and Gadin walked down the hall, toward a set of back stairs while the same crowd of arguing scientists moved to and blocked the view from the front stairs.

Security held people and a few reporters back just below the stairs.

"Holy, crap," Cory said into the phone to a colleague at the Lab in Kleinfelter Hall. "If I'd known before breakfast we'd have all this— I'll tell ya later. Meet me? Okay!"

Cory made a call to his wife. "Estella? Honey, have you noticed the T.V.?"

Lori could hear Estella rattling off in Spanish to Cory. Cory talked with her about shutting up the house and keeping quiet inside—

Press saw the three duck into the back stairwell and rushed past colluding staff to chase them.

Cory, Lori and Gadin rounded a corner and ducked into a closet with one of their colleagues already in it, arms laden with new jackets and hats.

"It was easy! Who notices an old man? You get good work, yes?" he asked Lori.

Lori kissed him on the cheek and patted his shoulder.

The three changed outer garments.

The four stood in the closet, motionless, letting the press stomp by.

"I'm am so wanting to help with this, Lori! You got to let me."

"I'll need lots of help, but I'm not sure what with— Oh, hi, by the way," she said to Gadin. I never really stopped to introduce myself. I'm Lori Faraday."

Gadin laughed.

"I'm George Warner, Electrical Engineering." He reached over to hug Lori.

"What is it?" Lori asked.

"His wife passed away last year," Cory said. "It's been hard."

George's eyes watered.

"I'm sorry," Lori said to him, then, "Are you mad at me?"

George hugged her and shook his head. "Yes— NO. I love her, but I know why you kept it from us. There is so much at risk. Big things like this— Some might go to war. Millions could die if it's messed up."

George hugged her again.

She hugged him back. "Me, too."

The group of arguing scientists followed the press down the back stairwell, stopping in the vicinity of the closet.

The press spilled out the back door of the building to watch a Lincoln pull quickly away.

Pictures were snapped. Some people ran after the car.

The four exited the closet among smiling collaborators.

Lori struck off with Cory and Gadin toward a side door and climbed into a waiting S.U.V.

The S.U.V. arrived in the parking lot of a Ralph's grocery store.

The three piled out and into Ford Taurus.

"Thanks for meeting us, Frank," Cory said.

"Who is this?" Frank asked, a flirtatious smile on his race. He reached out to shake Lori's hand.

"An alien from outer space, dude," Gadin said, "And she's married so forget it."

"Take us home, please?" Cory asked him. "Now."

"What?" Frank asked. "She's pregnant and gotta deliver there?"

"Don't you watch the news?" Gadin asked Frank.

"Not really," Frank said. "I was in the Lab all day—"

"Jesus, someone fill him in," Gadin said.

The Taurus nearly missed a parked car getting out of its parking spot and exited the lot with two tires over the curb.

President Cadence Imogene Helmsley sat on a couch in the oval office watching a monitor displaying satellite imagery of four figures exiting a Taurus and walking into Estella and Cory's house. The imagery was clear. The view cut to feed from another satellite to show a short woman close the door behind them.

Cadence was surrounded by select members of the armed forces and other high ranking Executive Branch personnel.

Ella Gomez passed the floor, staring constantly at the monitor.

Air Force General Beck shook his head. "They have no idea. They think this is sneaky? Maybe from the press."

"They've been watching T.V.," Cadence said.

Harold Trim, Director of the F.B.I. asked, "You think she's a twelve thousand-year-old alien?"

The view on the monitor changed to something indistinct.

"They're inside the house," Ella Gomez said. "Adjust infared and radar imaging."

The image on the monitor resolved into interior images of the house with people moving about, mostly congregated in the living room area.

"We can listen to them through their cell phones," Eugene Liebner said, Director of the N.S.A.

Cadence shook her head. "We shouldn't."

"But this is big stuff," Eugene said.

Ella's face was not pleased.

Cadence looked at Harold. "What did the F.B.I. get on her?"

"Nothing much. Born 52 years ago in Jamestown, Indiana. Normal childhood, nothing distinguished. No college, no military service. No criminal record, just two traffic violations for speeding, and not much speed at that. Married John Michael Faraday thirty years ago in a simple church wedding in Burbank, California. How she got there, we don't know. He is very distinguished, but she appears to just have been his wife."

"A housewife," General Beck said.

"Too polished," Georgina Wells said, Secretary of State.

"You have anything on her, Gina?" Cadence asked.

"No, Madam President. We've never dealt with anything like this before, either."

"But if she's an alien from outer space," Harold asked, "then is she an immigrant? What's her status?"

Gina Wells thought. "I don't know." She looked at the President and others, thinking. "If that's true, she wasn't born here, but then the question is when did she come to this country? Or this land, if it was before it was a country? What if she came here at a time when immigration was accepted without question, and she's still here?"

"What if her birth certificate is faked., her Social Security record, other government agencies. Marriage license, contracts, affidavits, tax returns— We could be starting to stack up felonies—"

Cadence turned to Ella. "Does her 'transmuter' check out?"

Ella looked pre-occupied as if her considerable scientific mind were racing at top speed. She started to answer the President first one way then another, stopping words before they were spoken. She motioned as if she were going to say something, then motioned with the other hand.

"She's gonna blow a fuse," Harold said.

Cadence looked at Harold, then got up to walk over to Ella, touching her on the arm. "It's okay, Ella. You're exicted. But will this machine work?"

With a look of pre-occupation, Ella looked up to the taller President and nodded. "Yes, Madam President. It will." Her expression seemed more like a confession than a summary. "And the whole world's got it. She knew what she was doing. We can put it together very quickly, and so can any number of other countries or universities—companies, wealthy individuals, organizations— My guess is missing bits are so different receivers can put their own finishing touches on it. But— Yes, it will work."

Cadence went to sit behind the Resolute Desk and stared at nothing for a few minutes.

"Well," she said. "If it will work, then maybe she is who she says." She looked at everyone. "We need to get a stance on this quickly. It looks like we may now be a humanity with rejuvenation, once we get it working. Supposedly." She looked at everyone who listened quietly. Cadence thought some more. "Everything's got to be done at once. World leaders need to talk to each other. Scientists need to be involved, sociologists, economists, physicists, engineers, physicians, biologists... Harold, look into a criminal aspect of this per our laws—"

"Yes, Ma'am, but if she's alien, our laws may not really apply. She was just surviving."

"I know. Coordinate with Gina, here. Gina, can we look into her status as an American? I'd like to confirm she's a citizen here."

"Right."

"And fast." Cadence looked to Jimmy Duffet, her Chief of Staff. "Jimmy, I need to talk to some world leaders right away. Best if I can get Russia, China, England, India, Japan— Just see what I can get. I don't want to go into a press conference cold.

"And," Cadence looked at her Press Secretary, Doreen Washington, "Doreen: I think we should have a press conference in about two hours. Please don't hold me to the minute.

"Everybody," the President said to everyone. "Lets move to the situation room. There are more screens in there."

Everybody rose to their feet.

"Two hours okay, Doreen?" Cadence asked.

"No more than two hours from now," Doreen said. "If we delay, there could be trouble. Everybody's going to want to be saved yesterday, there could be bedlam for life from every quarter. Though it's not related, people could storm hospitals thinking it's in there and we're withholding the transmuter—"

"Yes," Cadence said. "I can imagine."

Doreen sat on the edge of her seat. "We need to announce right away that you'll have your conference in two hours. Just knowing it's coming, will help."

Cadence nodded. "And there's Lori Faraday. General Bainbridge?"

The Army general had been waiting quietly, watching. "Yes, Madam President."

"They," Cadence indicated the monitor, "can't watch out for their own safety. They need help."

"I agree. I've already got my staff working on a protection plan. Just waiting for your order."

"The order is given," Cadence said. "And to make it clear to everyone, this is not going to be a nation of panic, idea theft, cover-ups or white-washing. I was elected on honesty and integrity, so lets do this right. We're democrats, for God's sake. We're not school children. If her story is true, Mrs. Faraday is taking a big chance—a gamble, really—that this process can work with a society that is maturing, getting ready to take the next step in our evolution as a species. She thinks we're better than we sometimes behave; lets show her we can be."

CHAPTER

7

Billionaire Adrien Archambeau stood in his penthouse high atop Dubai, looking through a wall of glass over the desert and ocean. Ultramodern furnishings in the Great Room framed the western wall into an office area for staff, busy with computer terminals, phones, and printers.

They were harried, searching, connecting.

Adrien was calm. Adrien was always calm.

Salvador rose from his desk to walk over to the windows, stood by the taller Adrien. "That's all there is, Adie. Just that one posting on the transmuter. Did she get it right? I mean, O.M.G.! How'd she come up with that? This will change everything. I could use one of those to get rid of my little fat rolls, here, and my wrinkles." He showed Adrien his love handles.

Adrien nodded, spoke with a slight French accent: "No need, though, Sal. Your husband does not care about that," rolling his "r" in "care" on the back of his throat.

"You don't complain, but I do. No Sarah Lee for me since Christmas! All I ever get is lettuce and a little broccoli, one grain of rice—"

Adrien gave him a quick kiss on the mouth. "You worry too much." He continued to stare out the window.

Salvador held Adrien by the waist for a second then put his hands on his hips. "You're seeing possibilities with this?" he asked.

Adrien's eyebrows rose a fraction, and he nodded a little.

"How can you make money on this?" Salvador asked.

"Oh, billions. I'm sure. Anybody could."

"But the whole world's already got it."

"Will you get people on it?" Adrien asked. "The team in South Carolina. Right away?"

Salvador nodded. "Sure. But I think the Hong Kong office is better equipped—"

Adrien gave Salvador a slight smile.

Salvador turned to the office area and said with a smile. "Karrie! Veronica! Best speed."

"Hey bro," Karrie responded, turning to give instructions to others hear her.

Sal leaned on Adrien a little, staring out the window. He put his arm around Adrien's waist. "Are you not well? Is there something you should tell me?"

"You're just like a woman," Adrien said.

"No! Oh, I am! You want me to be?" Salvador looked around nervously and spoke softly to Adrien. "You don't like my—"

Adrien broke a smile at that one and shook his head. "Not for me, hon. It's up to you."

CHAPTER

8

Estella and Cory Peck's house was in a nice, residential neighborhood across the street to the east from Westech.

The living room was full: Estella, Cory, their two boys, Gadin, Frank—and Lori.

Everyone sat on the two couches, except Estella who was serving snacks to visitors, no matter what planet they were from, and Lori, who sat in a chair opposite them.

Five sets of eyes stared at Lori without blinking, mouths hanging part way open.

"Wow, way cool!" Matias said, the ten-year-old.

"Just like Star Trek," Samuel said.

"What do you know about it?" Matias said. "You're just a kid."

"I can watch the movies, can't I?"

Estella held a tray of food in front of the kids. "Take a sopapilla and be quiet! Lori told us a big secret! Lets help her."

The kids each took one.

Estella offered sopapillas to everyone else, but they didn't move.

Estella took one and sat down on the couch by the boys, looked at the men looking at Lori.

Estella rolled her eyes. "Oh Dios mio, son estupidos hombres!"

Cory held out his hand toward Lori, as if to show Estella.

Estella turned to Lori. "Where you come from, then?"

"You mean the other planet?"

Estella nodded.

"Ahleth. It's a planet on the other side of the galaxy. No where near here."

Estella looked to Lori, "Did you have a nice family?"

Lori nodded. "Yes, as far as that goes. Ahleth are isolative, not into grouping, any more, so—"

"Ahleth?" Frank asked. He pointed up. "Bad ass? Aliens from outer space?"

Lori chuckled at him. "No tentacles."

"You look human," Cory said.

"Do you have teeth that come out of your stomach?" Samuel asked.

"Like, do you eat people?" Matias asked.

"I am human," Lori said to them all.

"How—"

There was a knock at the front door. Cory jumped up to see. "News crews," he said. Thousands of them!"

Everyone else ran to the windows to see.

There were two vans in the street with dishes on them, a camera crew knocking at the door, other press filling into the yard.

"We're lousy secret agents," Gadin said.

"The Jason Bourne stuff works in the movies," Frank said.

"Yeah, but we don't have a script!" Gadin said.

Cory cracked the window and yelled out. "You all need to wait off the property. You're trespassing. Please move back to the sidewalk!"

Instead of moving back, they came to the window from where he was shouting.

Cory closed the window and the drapes, stepped back.

The eight-year-old, Samuel, turned on the T.V. The news blared, "...who has shocked the world with her revelation of—"

Matias changed the channel. "...and our science editor says it might work: Rejuvination! The old can grow young again—"

Estella turned it off and shushed the kids.

The knocking at the door increased.

Lori's cell phone rang in her pocket, an iPhone 6.

She looked at everyone present and then to the phone. She did not recognize the number, so she didn't answer it.

"They're gonna hound you," Cory said.

"You've been on T.V.," Lori said.

"Some, but it was by choice."

"I think it's going to be part of this, too," Lori told him.

Her cell phone rang again. She looked at it, then turned it to face everyone else. Wording was creeping across the phone for her to read.

"You're kidding me?" Gadin said. They can do that? Even I can't do that."

"I think I better answer it." Lori placed the phone to her ear, then promptly removed it, holding it out in front of her, pressing speaker phone for all to hear.

"Yes?"

"Mrs. Faraday?"

"Holy iPhone, it's her," Cory said.

"Yes?" Lori answered.

Cadence sat behind her desk in the Oval Office, talking into the phone. "This is President Helmsley, in D.C. I think something big is up, and I thought maybe I could smooth it out a little for you."

Lori nodded and said in front of everyone. "I knew this was coming."

The President spoke on her phone. "Mrs. Faraday—"

"'Lori,' please?" Lori asked.

"Okay. Fine. Lori. And you can call me Cadence—"

"Okay," Lori said, but then contradicted herself. "I— I thank you, Madam President. I like you and I voted for you. But I think there is value in using your title. There's a purpose for it."

"It reminds me of my role," Cadence said.

"Yes," Lori said. "And everyone else, too, including me."

"Okay." Cadence paused for a second. "Lori, you anticipated all this, didn't you."

"Yes."

"She's twenty thousand years old," Gadin said.

"Who all is there?" Cadence asked.

"Some of us from Westech," Lori said. "Here in Cory Peck's home with his family."

"It's okay to talk in front of them?" Cadence asked.

"I think it should be so," Lori said.

"Okay," Cadence said. "Let me offer you some help. I see on satellite imagery—"

"Cool!" Matias said.

"—that your house is surrounded by press, and I take you seriously per your talk with Ella Gomez that you need protection, so I'm sending you so me. This is all above board. If you look outside, you will see in a few seconds the Army moving people off your property and setting up barricades down the block."

Cory went to the curtains to see it happening. Soldiers were herding press backward down the street. "They are," he said.

"We going to be hauled away to a secret bunker with the aliens?" Frank asked the President in his extremely informal way.

Cadence chuckled a little at him. "I watched the same movies you did— Who was that?"

"Frank James, Biology," Frank said. "

"Cool!" Matias said again.

"Okay. Hi Frank. "No, Lori and all. I made it very clear. This is not skullduggery. This is us helping. If you want the Army to leave, just say so. If you want something else, just say so. Ella says your invention is sound, and that lends credence to other areas of your story."

"You mean that I'm an alien from outer space?" Lori asked.

"Yes," Cadence said. "Is that true also?"

"Maybe it would be best if I hold a press conference, Madam President."

"You and me both."

"Maybe we could hold one together? We're on different sides of the country, but we can work it out electronically."

Lori looked at Gadin who nodded. "Yes, no problem."

"Madam President, we need to get out ahead of this. We need to talk to people, let them see me, get used to me. And I need to fill them in on the transmuter. It's a big adjustment."

Thirty minutes later, Lori got herself situated on a couch with everyone else in the house.

A video crew from Channel 5 News were all set up to view them as a group, with another camera as a close-up on Lori.

Twenty other reporters were crowded on the other side of the small living room with a dozen cameras going and microphones in hand.

A Major Wood stood inbetween them with two armed soldiers at the ready. He had no sense of humor about peace in this interview.

There was a large T.V. monitor beside the group on the couch, displaying the President and Ella, both framing a fireplace.

In the Oval Office, Cadence and Ella sat by the fireplace with a large monitor where they could see Lori et al in California.

A camera crew indicated ready.

"You're all comfortable with this?" the reporter asked.

Everybody nodded.

"This is so cool!" Matias said.

"Would you shut up?" Samuel asked.

"Shhhh!" Estella ordered.

Lori took their comments as relief from the seriousness of the situation, smiled at them.

"It's okay," the reporter said. "This is just us talking with people."

"A billion people," Gadin said.

"More than that," Frank said.

Cory shook is head no to get them to relax. "The way to make it work is just be here, guys. Just be us, sitting on the couch, explaining to the reporter. Relax."

"Easy for you," Gadin said.

"Madam President, are you ready on your end?"

Doreen Washington, Press Secretary, stepped into view and nodded to her.

"Alright." The reporter looked at her cameraman who nodded at her. She listened to the speaker in her ear. "We're ready."

"Most of us," Gadin said quietly to Lori.

Her cameraman pointed his camera at her, and gave her a 5 count, the last two with his fingers. His little red light came on.

"Ladies and gentlemen," she said. "This is Janet Mays, Channel 5 news, Los Angeles, with a special news broadcast with both the President of the United States of America and Lori Faraday, who have asked to speak with people about Lori's new invention."

Cadence looked very presidential on the monitor beside the couch, as she spoke. "Ladies and Gentlemen of the United States of America and around the world. This morning, at Cedars Sinai hospital in Los Angeles, Dr. John Michael Faraday, professor at Western Polytechnic University, Los Angeles, and Nobel Laureate in Physics, passed away after a long oreal in the hospital in the loving presence of his wife, Lorelai Faraday. Lori has shared with me how much she loved him and how much the passing of loved ones has meant to her over the years, and she's also shared with the entire world, this afternoon, over the internet, plans for a machine that may be able to do something to help people live longer. It's not certain, yet, but we are working on this at very high speed to see if we can get it working, and with that, there would be many changes we would need to consider as we adjust to it.

"Along with Lori's revelations to the world she has also shared with us, here—Ella Gomez, my science advisor, and me—how she came into possession of this remarkable machine. She says it is in use in her former land, that it's natural for her former people to use, and that she, herself has been using it for a very long time. We have not verified any of that yet, but she insists it come out, so since she has captivated the public's attention, perhaps it would be best if we discuss this with her. Lori?"

"Yes, Madam President," Lori said.

The camera continued to capture the president on her monitor and the group on the couch.

Cadence suggested, "Perhaps you could share with us who you're with."

"Okay, Sure. Thank you Madam President. This is," Lori indicated from the far right of the couch, "Frank James, Professor of Biology, Westech." Frank waved and smiled. "Gadin Malhotra, professor visiting from Stanford." Gadin smiled. "Cornelius Peckington, whom you all know as Cory Peck." Cory smiled at her, "And to my left, you have Estella, his lovely wife—who is a good cook, by the way."

"Stop it," Estella said.

"And their two children, Matias and Samuel. It's a good group. John and I have known known Cory, Estella and their family for years. The others are new to me, but they seem great, and I'm glad to have met them."

"Thanks," Gadin said.

"Good," Frank said.

"So," Lori continued, "Janet, how would you like to do this?"

"Why don't I ask you some prepared questions, and then we can ask the assembled group of reporters if they have any questions for you."

Lori nodded.

The president nodded as well.

"Lori," Janet said. "You prefer to be called Lori, is that right?"

"Yes."

"Lori. What is the machine? How does it work?"

Lori answered without hesitation. "It's a transmuter. It has its own artificial intelligence—a rather business-like personality, not given to frivolity—and what it does it take matter, effectively reduces it to energy, and uses a template to provide a new form to the energy such that a younger, healthier body can be formed."

"Like a transporter on Star Trek?" Matias asked.

"Shhhhh! Matias!" Estella said.

Cadence chuckled, as did Lori.

"Actually," Lori said to him, "as I guess it's represented, not quite. As I guess it, if you're in a machine that dematerializes your entire body, brain and all, and rematerializes you somewhere else—trans-port—then you'd be dead, and the new you would be a copy. It'd be just like you, in a new place, but a different person."

"Cool!" Matias said.

"It's his word. Sorry," Estella said.

"No problem," Lori said. "But the way the transmuter works—"

"That's what you call it?" Frank asked.

Lori told him, "Yes, in English. But let me go here before I go there?"

Frank smiled. Lori continued to Matias and everyone. "But the way the transmuter works, it's a chamber, not larger than a CAT Scanner—kinda looks like it. You lie in it nude. It samples you, reads every quantum bit of you, and then in the space of a few seconds dematerializes your body but not your brain and materializes a new body for you."

"What does it feel like?" Cory asked her.

"I'd say—like going to sleep and waking back up with a new body. You work from a template."

"A what?" Estella asked.

"A template. I talk with Lwaxana about what I want—"

"From Star Trek, again?" Cory asked.

Lori smiled. "Yes. John and I both liked it, and John named her."

"John knew about all this?" Cory asked.

"Yes, but he was against using it, not even to save his own life."

"What the hell?" Frank said.

Lori confirmed with a nod. "He was a religious man who felt there was a life beyond this, and he didn't want me to interfere."

"Uh-oh. There goes the ballgame," Gadine said.

"But I think it should be okay." Lori began to tear. "When John died in my arms, I—" Lori's face turned to stone, went a little white. A tear fell down her cheek while she regained herself. "When John died, I couldn't take it any more. I've been watching loved ones die for thousands of years. My former species has the belief that you do not mess with other cultures. Let them develop all this on their own. But I've always hated that. I've wanted to give this to people ever since Einstein, but knew I had to wait. I begged John," another tear fell, "to let me do something—" Lori took a second to compose. "And I couldn't take it any more, so I— Even if other Ahleths have a problem with it, I think—I believe, from watching how societies have grown since the integration of the planet—cell phones, satellites, movies, T.V., airline travel—you can stand in the Sahara and talk to your mother in Idaho on the phone—that people don't need to be the immature set that policy was fashioned around. I believe people won't do the 'Aliens are going to eat us' thing we've seen in movies and are at a place where they can use their minds, embrace people from elsewhere, and learn to live longer lives.

"Not immortality, mind you, because you're still human. Just longer lives, without the aging."

"What about neurological diseases?" Frank asked. "Parkinson's, Altzheimer's, etc. You don't remake the brain."

"True, that the system doesn't reform the entire brain, but it samples the whole thing, find its healthy form, and while it's doing the body, it can go in and 'clean up' the brain, removing such as amyloid plaque, restoring little things that make it healthy again. It's to Apple computers what they are to petroglyphs, to the N.S.A.s computers as they are to counting on your fingers. It's pretty advanced."

"How long will it be before you can get one working for other people?" Cory asked.

"Mine works," Lori said. "But I've already given her instructions to begin plans to self-replicate en masse, the number will grow exponentially as they do so, and in a matter of weeks, we will be able to begin using them with the most needy people."

"Why not right away? It already works." Frank asked.

"Because she is more complicated than we are, actually. The human body is not that complicated. She is immense, inside. And because this is the fastest way to start saving millions. If we begin using the machines too early in the process of replication, then those machines can't make other machines. I'm trying to save as many lives as fast as I can, and her systems are too delicate to rush. I've been at this a long time.

"Lori," Cadence asked.

"Yes, Madam President?"

"Here is where we can touch on that other issue you bring to us. We are thankful for your efforts to help us, ever so. I pledge we will rise to the challenge and learn to be a better people as we adjust to the opportunities you present to us. But I also need to ask: You said you've been using this for thousands of years. How did that occur?"

Lori looked at her friends and to the press in attendance. "Is it okay to say?"

Lori knew it was, but the question itself helped to prepare people for a bombshell.

"Yes. Please do," Cadence said.

"I began using this machine about twenty thousand years ago."

In the room, Lori could hear reporters take a breath.

"Twenty thousand years?" Janet asked.

Lori nodded.

Frank, Gadin and Cory all smiled broadly.

Matias began to speak, and both Samuel and Estella told him to shut up.

"But it's cool!"

"Shhhh!"

Cadence spoke up. "So you're twenty thousand years old." She nodded in thought. "Where are you from?"

"Ahleth. Another planet. On the other side of the galaxy."

"You're an alien from outer space?" someone in the back said.

"This is getting freaky," another said.

"It wasn't already?" another said.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Major Wood said, speaking up from the side. "Decorum."

Ella spoke on the monitor. "Ladies and gentlemen, I've looked over the plans Lori has provided, and also spoken with some other notable scientists, and I have to say that this device may actually function as Lori has said. With that, it is perfectly reasonable she's had it a long time, renewing herself, and also with that, we'd have to wonder where the technology came from, as we still don't have it in the 21st Century—of our own invention. So we may need to consider the possibility Lori is telling us the truth, or work with it as we learn about her."

A room full of nerds in someone's basement all screamed in joy and raised their hands into the air.

"Bro we got it!"

"The aliens are here!"

"Aliens have been here for thousands of years?" Janet asked.

Lori nodded. "For maybe a hundred thousand years."

The nerds slapped each other on the back, whoping.

"For what purpose?" Janet asked.

"We spread out," Lori said. "We're not inclined to group. In the earlier evolution of our species, we did group. Community was important. But as we became more curious about other places, we spread out. We're actually quite isolative."

"How many are on this planet, now?" someone behind Janet asked.

"I don't know. Not many, I'd think. It could be four or five, probably not ten. It could be several as far as aging goes, but accidents happen, and sometimes we die."

"They want to take over?" someone asked.

"No." Lori shook her head. "That is not our way. It would be more like colleagues, or scientists, but not many, I'm sure."

"I can imagine so many things?" someone asked.

Lori shook her head. "We've been here for a hundred thousand years—earlier groups of us. Each of us is thousands of years old. The thought process changes with age. Things like greed and violence are primal, and they fade. That is my wish for humanity, also."

Many other people clamored to ask questions, but Major Wood slowed them down as a moderator.

"So," Cory asked, "If you came here from another planet, are you—human?"

Lori looked at him. "Yes, completely. My former species was not human, but we were close enough. We had the same double helix, a similar overall physique, but a different appearance and physiology. I think we may have had a common ancestor—or body shape evolved for similar reasons. Cousins. But when we got to this planet, we had to use the transmuter to become fully human, and then we had to use it more to slowly adjust the brain to evolve us, if you will, into a brain that is human. It's retained as alien, initially but after a few years, we can get it to be just human— We need to do this to interface with you, to live here, to be biologically compatible with the planet and just to interact with you. This body, I, am completely human, though not quite usual."

"How are you unusual?" Cory asked.

"Well, I'm intersex."

"You." Cory said as a statement. "You're both sexes? Male and female? How much so?"

Lori nodded, comfortably. "Completely. Ahleths are. That's how we reproduce. Sometimes with each other, sometime with ourselves. And when my group arrived here about twelve thousand years ago, I kept the pattern."

"Why?" someone behind Janet asked.

"Because it's me."

"So John knew about this?" Frank asked.

Lori nodded. "He also knew where I came from. All of it."

"Why would you want both a penis and a vagina?" someone asked from behind Janet.

"Take it easy," Major Wood said.

"It's okay, Tommie," Lori said. "It's me. Yes, I have both, and they both work. I'm completely human. Genetically, I'm a matrix. My form is female, because I like it that way, and Yes I have both sets of genitalia, because my former species always does. It's natural for them."

"So," Janet asked, "You didn't totally go native here on Earth because you kept the intersex of Ahleth?"

"I'm totally native. Totally human, down to every gene in my body. And intersex is a natural way for many humans. It's a worthy way to live life. What's wrong with that?"

Janet held her hands up with a smile. "Okay."

"Look, everyone," Lori said, "We're in full swing on the transmuters, trying to get them to where we can work to save people who would like to rejuvenate. We'll work up healthy templates for those who would like to change their body into some feature they'd prefer—"

"You could save Stephen Hawking?" Frank asked.

"Yes," Lori said. "And we will, if he would like us to. But to continue, we will get that up and running as fast as humanly possible. Yes, Ahleths have been here for a hundred thousand years, so whatever you think life on Earth is about, we're part of it—all of us are human—so no, there is no danger from us. Some of them might be concerned about me giving away a secret, but we'll deal with that between us. I may have to pay a fine or use a get out of jail free card. But we'll work it out, no problem. Are there more Ahleths who might visit? I doubt it in this millennium. They're a long way away. Few come this way. So now," Lori said, turning to the President, "I have some questions, too, if I may?"

"Yes, please," Cadence said.

"Am I a citizen of the United States?"

Geogina Wells, Secretary of State, walked into frame. "We need to see if you fit our laws, or make something special for you, because—hey—it's new to us. But when did you come to this land?"

"I've made it my home since 1774. I was aware of the principles on which this nation was founded, and I like them. I'd been in England, before that."

"Where did you first make your home after coming to Earth, by the way?"

"The middle east. That's close enough. It was a different area, then."

"I'm sure," Gina said. "So you were in the U.S. before we were a country."

Lori nodded.

Gina turned to Cadence. "Madam President, as such, then she is a citizen of the United States, the same as would anyoe else who had been here when the States were formed."

"And another question if I may?" Lori asked.

"Sure," Cadence said.

"I've had to fake some documents to fit in, until now, when I've revealed the truth about myself. If you live a long time, you have to do that, as documentation becomes required, and social turmoil would have resulted. Am I guilty of crimes?"

Harold walked into frame. "Lori, I'm Harold Trim, Director of the F.B.I. We've already been looking into that. We feel that in earlier days, it is possible that you may not have been understood, and that a revelation such as all this could have gotten you locked up, in a prison if not a mental hospital—because we did not understand extraterrestrials or longevity." He shook his head. "Please let us look into it more, but on the face of it, I'd have to say no, that you should be able to get a full pardon, well considering the circumstances, and that you have a clean slate."

"May we continue to get to know you, Lori," Cadence said. "But, yes, I see no problem there. An alien comes to us, tries to fit in. We need to be welcoming to you, not penal, so we will be."

Lori let out some air.

### CHAPTER

### 9

The bathroom monitor at the 16 cinema complex smiled at two ladies who entered the Ladies' Room. "Good, good," he said to them.

A man entered the Mens' Room. "We're good there," he said.

A lady moved to enter the Ladies' Room, but he stopped her. "Wait," he said with a frown. "That one." He pointed to the Mens' Room six feet to the right.

"But I have to go in there," the lady said.

The monitor shook his head. "Um-um. Females only."

Horny Toad Calahan, otherwise known in real life as Melvil T. Hammil, bought a couple boxes of lead bullets for his .45, 500 bullets per box for reloading, and thanked the cowboy behind the counter. Everyone was dressed in old west era clothes, 1880s vintage, for the National Old West Cowboy Shooting competition—"NOWCS," they called it.

Someone walked by on a horse.

"'Scuse me, Ma'am," a cowboy said as he maneuvered around a well dressed lady.

Everyone at the shootin' match was armed with either one or two six-guns in holsters; and everyone was, therefore, kindly.

"You have a nice day." Horny said to the clerk. Horny Toad was 83, and not in the best of shape. He coughed a little and began to turn around.

"Lets go over to the saloon and sit a spell," his old friend, "Sassy Britches," said to him. "Come on."

"What reloader you use?" the clerk asked him as he left.

"A Dillon 550B," Horny said. "Got it in the garage on my bench."

"Good machine."

"It'll do." Horny coughed a little again.

"You thought about doing that rejuvenation stuff?" the clerk asked, with a look of concern on his face.

"Let the sick people have it," he said with another light caugh.

"You not healty?" the cleark asked.

Horny touched the brim of his hat and turned.

Sassy Britches, elderly himself, took both gun cart hand trucks and leaned them back on their wheels to go. They were loaded with long guns, the box at the bottom full of ammo.

"I think it helps me to push my own," Horny said. "It stabilizes me."

"It's heavy."

"I got it," Horny said.

They each pushed their own toward the saloon—the largest tent, inside of which were several tables and chairs.

They parked their gun carts outside the tent and went inside.

"Why don't I go get us some drinks over there in the food court," Sassy said.

Horny sat in a chair and shook his head. "Don't matter," he said.

Sassy sat beside him in the next chair. "Maybe we shouldn't have come?" he asked.

Horny shook his head, looked at his old friend, seeming out of energy. "We've been coming here for, what, twenty years now, Nick?"

"And we been friends ever since grade school, Mel."

"I had to come. It could be my last."

"I worry about you, Mel."

Mel shook his head and rubbed his chest a little with his right hand.

"Does it hurt?" Nick asked.

"Not so much right now."

"I hear they got a machine up and running over in Denver, now," Nick said.

"I don't know."

"That lady, Lori, ain't chargin' nothing much. Folks say they just put anything they want into the cup, and she does it."

"But they's a long line waitin' for it, Nick, and I—"

"You are what she's done it for, Mel. You're sick. You get to the head of the line."

"Other people—"

"I ain't gonna stand for this, Mel," Nick told him firmly, with a tear forming in his eye. "Ever since my wife died—" he said. "Two years ago. Family's gone. They don't care 'bout me since their mother took 'em away, must 'a been forty years, now. Ol' Dick Beck passed eight years ago, you know. And he was my only other friend. You're all I got left, and I ain't gonna have it, you hear?"

Nick shed a tear while he stared his old friend in the face. "I'm tired of people dying on me."

Mel looked at him seriously.

Nick stood. "That does it. If you won't do it, I will. And you can't stop me 'cause you're too weak."

"What?" Mel asked.

Nick grabbed his old friend by the collar and lifted him out of his seat onto his feet.

"Nick!"

"Sorrento?" Nick said to one of the gals in the office. "Mel's not doing so hot. Will you take care of our gun carts over there? We got business."

### CHAPTER

### 10

Windows in the office building blew, scattering debris over neighboring buildings of the Damascus cityscape.

"Now Go!" the leader shouted. "Go, go, go!"

Armed insurgents stormed what was left of the building to get closer to the transmuter inside.

"Here it is!" a soldier yelled. "Over here!"

"Rig it!" the leader shouted.

When the small, live-feed video camera was set up, he stood in view, the transmuter clearly behind him.

"Get this, every one of you," he said in English. "Only God can make people. When we die, we go to Heaven with God and live in His arms for eternity. You want us to stop having children? Overpopulation? God has shown us how it should be. If we have no more children, we stop other souls from joining God! This," he indicated the transmuter, "is an abomination, and we will destroy every last one of them."

The terrorist ran out of frame.

The explosion cut the feed.

An army in a distant city square machinegunned a large crowd of people, killing many of them, forcing them back.

President Cadence Helmsley presented before the United Nations. "...so natural resources are at a premium. Transmuters are working, and to date over a million lives have been saved because of them. With these people continuing to live, with billions more on the way, how will we survive?

"In consultation with many of you here and leaders around the world, there is a way. It's an adjustment. It will take some work. But if we can think, if we can plan ahead, if we can use restraint, it can be done.

"The plan is this." Cadence paused for effect. "If the earth's population as a whole rejuvenates, uses one of the transmuters, then we, as a population, will be living longer. How long? We don't know, yet, but barring accidents or outright killing, maybe very much longer.

"And if most people are not dying any more, there could be a serious problem in our ability to find water, energy, to grow food. If we continue to have children—for the moment—at the rate we have been, we will go through those in very short order, polute the planet, and turn our home into a place unliveable.

"However, in living longer, using natural resources longer is not the only result. We also get to school longer, retain great thinkers among us longer, learn better ways as a society to organize and plan, and mature into more centuries than we could have ever imagined before.

"I believe it is through this evolution, that we will solve our problems. Projects that before would have seemed out of reach, become doable over a longer span of time. We can learn to grow as a species, learn our way past greed and violence.

"The way it is, now, even one of the brighter students among us goes to university to learn a field. They get an advanced degree in their field—and usually the brightest innovations are made when they are younger, I'm told because the brain is more agile, and as their age becomes adavnced, they may be less likely to innovate because the brain is less agile. But the way it can become, if the young scientist is interested, he or she can learn three or four fields and study them longer. The brightest innovators? The Einsteins among us? The Stephen Hawkings? The Kip Thornes? Richard Feynmans? Think of the ideas they may have if given a chance at a much longer period of time to study, a much longer period of time in which the brain is 'tweaked,' as Lori puts it, kept agile, as the years past.

"What would Einstein or Newton have developed if we had not lost them? How would Galileo have changed our future if he'd been given many more chances? Could we develop 'replicators' like they use on Star Trek, so food and material could be produced without the kinds of resources on which we currently depend? Why not? It's related to the processes used by the transmuters. We're reverse-engineering them, learning. Could we develop other places for our species to live? Space stations, Lagrange points, the Moon, Mars? Titan? Europa? We don't' know how to do all that, yet, or not as efficiently as we'd like, but what would Einstein do with it over time? Or Hawking?

"And then, when we learn how to spread our wings into the solar system, we—the same 'we,' us, you and I—can again consider again the idea of having children, when we have somewhere for them to grow, when resources are not a problem.

"I believe it is with this that we will find solutions to our problems. By retaining our genius. Through education, appreciation of creative thought.

"I'm here, today, asking you if this seems to be a vision you would embrace.

"In a life that is centuries long, or hopefully millennia, is it unreasonable that we learn to go through a time of a hundred years without creating children—just a while—until we can care for them."

CHAPTER

11

The huge west exhibit hall of the Los Angeles Convention Center was chaotic with people shouting, raising banners, and screaming their views.

Camera crews were placed in the corners, videoing everything.

Police were there, but Major Wood and his team, Lori's personal "body squad," as she called them, kept the peace within a hundred feet of Lori, with some semblance of decorum. He scanned his crew who stood at the corners of his area. All were paying attention. He had more to call on, just out of sight.

At the front of the hall, on a stage behind a stack of microphones, Lori sat in panel with several others, in a rare press conference—for the purpose of answering questions from the public.

The person first in line at the microphone spoke accusingly. "So Lori, you're not really human. Right? You're a simulation?"

The hall yelled a mixture of insults and praises.

Major Wood walked to the center of the stage and stared at the audience. "Ladies and gentlemen."

They quieted to hear him.

He let his stare linger for a few seconds, then said quietly, "I've cleared halls before, and I will again, if you push it. We're here to hear this panel and Lori's responses." He stated no threat beyond that.

One person in the back raised a loud objection.

Wood looked at one of his men, and the objector was removed.

Wood looked at the audience again. "This is a private affair. It's open to the public because Lori said so. Since she paid for the hall, it's her call. But lets keep it down."

The grumble was tolerable.

Wood left the stage.

"So you're not really human, are you?"

"Yes, I am," Lori said, at ease.

"But," the lady at the mike said, "you weren't born human."

Lori smiled at her. "But I became one."

A moderator at the mike indicated for the lady to leave. "One question each, maybe with a follow-up."

The lady didn't want to leave, but people in line behind her enforced it.

The next lady at the mike asked, "Why did you want to have a dick?"

The hall laughed.

Lori cracked a smile. "Do you not like them?"

"No, no. I mean, yes! But I don't want to have one."

"At the time, I didn't give it much thought," Lori said. "my former species is intersex, and I just continued with that when I became human. But I came to like it. No problem. It's just part of me."

"Don't you ever want to be female?" asked the lady.

The moderator shewed her away from the mike, and the next person walked up to it, a man. "Alright," he said, "so didn't you ever want to be just female?"

Lori nodded. "I am female."

"And male?"

Lori nodded. "I have those parts. But my gender identity is female. Together with my female parts, I think I'm well into the female area of a roughly bimodal distribution."

The man opened his mouth, but the moderator indicated for him to leave.

The next: "So you're still partly alien in the mind: You were intersex, and you still wanted to be."

Lori thought about it. "I don't think of it that way, because intersex is a way that humans can also be. It's not the difference, I'm seeing, here, between Ahleths and humans; it's the similarity."

The man left the mike.

There were hundreds of people in line eager to edge forward.

"Where is your ship?" the next man in line asked.

Lori smiled at him. "Right next to where it isn't."

"Aw, come on!" he begged.

The moderator tried to shoo him away, but he wouldn't leave.

"Lets see it, please? I mean, like, dude—that's rockin'." The moderator all but pushed the man away from the mike, but he shouted over is shoulder as he left. "You gotta share! It'd be cool if we could make some ourselves."

The next lady at the mike raised her issue very sweetly. She smiled. "Lori?"

"Yes," Lori said.

"I think you're cute, and I'm Marci Valentine Osbet from Chatsworth—"

The moderator moved her away from the mike and the audience laughed.

The next person at the mike was more to the point. "Lori. Hello. I'm Reverend Hal G. Maxwell of the God's Way Baptist Church in Irvine, California. You've up and stolen the spotlight from the nation's immigration problems, and I'd like to ask you to set that straight. Immigrants coming to this country fill our prisons and create crime on the streets—hell, their first act coming here is a crime if it's illegal, and we just let 'em skate by! We gotta get this under control. America is for Americans. Other folks want to have its blessings? Let 'em create it in their own country!"

The audience ripped into an uproar and had to be quieted by Wood and the moderators.

When it died down some, Lori tried to answer. "I'm an immigrant—"

The audience roared mixed emotions again.

"I'm an immigrant," Lori said again.

"Then you should go, too!" said Rev. Maxwell.

Moderators quieted the hall, started to remove the Reverend, but Lori indicatred he could stay.

Lori tried again. "I'm not an immigrant to the U.S., as I was here when we founded the country. I've been a citizen longer than you—"

"What were you doing?"

"I was a wife in Richmond. I didn't fight in the Revolutionary War, but I repaired uniforms for my husband's men. He was a captain."

"And he knew you were— How can you find men when you're not really female! Other fairies—"

No one could stop the audience yelling for a while. When it quieted enough, Lori continued.

"I'm an immigrant to Earth, Mr. Maxwell. I am female—"

"With a penis?" Rev. Max well asked.

"Yes, with a penis—and the men I've married—and one woman—have been people of exceptional character, like my John."

There were a few cheers and chuckles.

"You're bi?" Maxwell asked.

Lori raised her eyebrows. "I haven't really thought so, really, but she was there. I just thought she was remarkable.

"So what have I done here on this earth since arriving? I've been a physician, in some roles, saving lives. I've never been a soldier, but I've helped—on good sides, I must say—in intelligence, in support, administrations, both military and civilian positions. I've been a mother—"

"You've had children?" Rev. Maxwell asked.

Lori nodded. "Many times. Who led normal lives."

A lady yelled from the side. "And you let them die when they got old? You didn't use the transmuter to save them?"

"I let them lead their own, normal life."

Lori's face took a pained expression. She shook her head to hold back tears, but they came, anyway. "Yes, I had to let them die when it was their time—the hardest thing for a mother to do. I won't do that any more." Lori looked around her on the panel. Someone on the end pushed a box of Kleenex to her, and she took one to dry her eyes.

The next man in line took the microphone. "If you loved your kids, how could you let them die?"

"Can't you see I'm in pain over that?" Lori asked. "How do you think I could do that? Because the species I came from, that society, has learned from aeons of immersion with different planets that if we interfere, there can be trouble. It's a heart-felt lesson we've learned the hard way. It's the hardest thing— I hate death! That's why I did this." Lori spread her arms. "Gave Earth the transmuter. Do you know the risk I'm taking? What if Ahleths—?"

"See?!" Rev. Maxwell yelled from the side. "You're going to get us killed!"

The audience roared again.

Maxwel was ushered from the hall.

The next questioner was a man. "If you lived with a family for decades, wouldn't they see you not age?"

"Good question," Lori said. "The transmuter can adjust to making a body that is young and healthy yet looks elderly—that spry 'young' thing in her eighties, and remember that people didn't tend to live as long as they do these days, even before the transmuter. So I did appear to age normally. Then when I moved, I would remake into someone maybe 20 again. It was never assumed I was the same person."

The next lady in line was tall, transgender, "Hi," she said. "I think you and I are the same. Thank you for being here."

"Thank you," Lori said.

"I mean you're transgender, too."

Lori's eyebrows went up as the thought. She cocked her head to one side for a second. "You know, I never thought about it that way."

The lady at the mike smiled.

Someone from the side yelled, "Intersex isn't trans."

Lori glanced at her and thought some more. "You know, I haven't changed my gender, but I did change my species."

"Maybe you're 'transspecial," the lady at the mike said. "'Trans-SPEE-shal,' as in species, not 'special.' Well, special, too—"

"Like we all are," Lori said. "I guess I'm a trans person, also, then."

"Welcome trans!" the lady said.

The audience was abuzz with comment.

Lori got out of her chair and walked around her table to hug the trans woman at the mike, who hugged her back with tears.

"Thank you for being here," the lady said.

"Thank you for having me," Lori told her back, with a little kiss on the cheek.

Lori went back to her seat.

"Okay," the lady said at the mike, "My real question."

"You've had your turn," a man behind her said.

"But that was a distraction," the trans woman said. "It wasn't what I intended to ask."

"It's okay," Lori said. "One more."

The lady smiled. "Okay. You mean there are other planets with people on them?"

Lori nodded. "Several."

"People? Like humans?"

"No. No. We—my cis species, as it were?—were not like Earth, either, in basic. But we did have a double helix, like you. It's held that likely we were seeded by something common, that we have a common source or ancestor. And on some planets, 'people' are very different. Yet we're all just beings, living. There are a great many ways life can develop, sometimes savage, sometimes compassionate, sometimes primitive, sometimes knowledgeable. It's up to humans, themselves, to decide what kind of people we will be."

"Thank you," the lady said sweetly, and walked to the side. Reporters gathered around her. Lori had actually hugged her.

The next guy walked up to the mike.

Lori asked him, "Are you trans also?" she asked him?

The guy laughed a second, then showed her his left temple with no T on it. "Not yet, but I will be I sure hope."

The audience chuckled with him, goodnaturedly.

The guy asked at the mike: "Are we likely to meet those people, from other planets? Maybe before we're ready?"

Lori shook her head. "No. Unlikely. Earth has been visited for a hundred thousand years or so, but it's been us, the Ahleths. When we come here, we take your form so we can survive. We study, live, whatever. We've always been part of Earth, since then. But there are no others here, and the ones we know about are very distant. The galaxy is a huge place."

The next woman at the mike announced for all to hear, "I'm trans! I just did it!" she showed the camera her left temple with the T on it.

Lori stood and blew her a kiss.

Cory Peck bluetoothed the conference from his phone to his Tesla's dash screen and listened to it on the car's speakers as he drove from San Bernardino toward Lori's new compound southeast of Santa Barbara, a good two hours away if he was lucky.

"Estella, I'm coming!" Cory said into space. "Boy am I coming."

Rain clouds were moving in from the west, and in L.A., when it rains, people slow down on the freeway. "We can cure old age, now, but traffic or a cold? Hell no."

Cory heard the next person at the mike, a man. "The economy is disrupted. Health-related companies are going bankrupt. Incomes for millions are gone. Defense industries are building because of all the fights over this. It looks like wars are starting. The costs of food-related commodities have skyrocketed with anticipated demand. The President says we're on the verge of an economic collapse."

"We'll manage it," Lori said. "I'm involved, too."

"Yes, but you've made yourself an instant billionaire with this machine of yours. What do you care?"

"I care," Lori said. "The reasons I've organized this into some wealth for me is for directly related R&D, but mainly so that I can make sure money is directed back to people affected. To date, I've sent some six billion dollars into restitituon funds for displaced employees, to lower food costs, to sponsor education in related replication areas of technology so we can develop societies that lack nothing they need, etc., and there will be more on the way as the enterprise grows. My money's where my mouth is."

"Good broad," Cory said to the car. "Way to go, John Faraday! Where the hell'd you find her?"

Cory carefully used his turn signals to change lanes.

The man at the mike continued on Cory's radio. "Did they use terminology like that back when Ben Franklin was around?" he asked.

Lori laughed. "No. But he had other things he'd say. He was funny."

"You knew him?"

"Yes. Off and on."

The traffic picked up for Cory. He grabbed a french fry from the McDonalds bag in the passenger seat. "New, healthier fries! But I can eat whatever, as I can get a new body, later. Yo, the world ain't what it was."

### CHAPTER

### 12

Lori's helicopter took off in the rain from the Los Angeles Convention Center and flew northwest, followed by her Body Squad in four Army helicopters.

Headlines flashed, as they did about her. "LORI IDENTIFIES AS TRANS," and "IS SHE STRAIGHT OR GAY?"

Cory parked the Tesla at Lori's compound and stood under his own umbrtella while he plugged it in, walked—nearly danced—his way toward the entrance.

"Afternoon, guards! Great day!" he said to soldiers as he made his way with a playful smile. "Good afternoon," he said to two ladies who were waiting under an awning for the rain to quit.

Cory stopped to look at them. "What's the matter, ladies?"

They looked at the rain.

"It's okay," Cory said. "Don't worry about it. You won't melt. Elphaba wasn't killed."

The guard snorted a smile.

Cory nodded to him. He got it.

The ladies looked at Cory in question.

"Elphaba. The Wicked Witch of the West?"

The ladies looked at each other in confusion.

"She faked her own death to escape the wizard. Dorothy didn't know. Glenda told us all about it."

The ladies still didn't follow.

"It's the plot of 'Wicked,' a Broadway play. It's as valid as the book—"

The ladies didn't respond.

Cory smiled and gave them his umbrella. "Here. Take this and enjoy."

"Thank you!" one of them said, and Cory walked on through the gate, in the rain, toward Lori's house. The compound was about 300 acres, not quite square, set in a valley, surrounded by low, picturesque hills. There were about fifteen buildings, mostly used for replicating transmuters, infrastructure and support. There were only two ways to get in or out: one was just large enough for trucks, heavily guarded, and the other was the personnel gate Cory had used.

Lori's house, set to one side on a rise that overlooked the compound, was a little modest for a billionaire, just under 5,000 square feet, with a beautiful back yard, and entirely fenced in stone block.

The compound had several hundred workers in it but the house was off limits to most.

The gate to Lori's house scanned Cory's retinas and let him in.

Lori opened the front door without waiting for Cory to knock. "Lori," Cory said as if he lived there, "I'm home."

"Alright," Lori said. "You're essential to this program, and you've got your hour. I've got a flight to make. What's up?"

"Supply going well? We on schedule?"

"Ahead, actually. We're shipping them out daily, and two other sites are making more."

"Good, good," Cory said. "Minimal charging, still?"

"We only ask for whatever people wish to give, and it's working."

"Ah, good, good. Heard the conference on the web. You did great."

"Thanks. So what's up? Why did you want me to block off an hour, here?"

"You mind?" Cory asked. "The world's gone batty for transmuters. All the fighting over religion, reproduction and resources— But when you get right down to it, if making sacrifices means you get to live, then—it's amazing, but people will. They actually will. I'm dumbfounded."

Cory walked into her family room, yet remained standing. He looked at his own clothing, not quite wet enough to drip on her carpet.

Lori followed, standing with him.

"Yes," Lori looked sad. "John didn't—"

"God," Cory said. "It's easy to forget, with all that's happened. But you're very much still a grieving widow."

Cory gave Lori a hug, and then Lori took a seat.

Cory followed, in a vinyl chair opposite her. "Where's Marie? I haven't seen her around lately."

"She's out back, I think. She'll be around. She's a little different, now. Since we got here."

"Okay." Cory looked around the room for distraction. "Great."

Lori crossed her legs, waited. "So...? You want some tea? I'll make some." Lori got up.

"Look, this isn't easy for me," Cory said. "Yet I don't see why I should beat around the bush about it—though I like bush."

Loir blurted out a quick laugh. "Smart alec."

"Ha ha. I'm—"

"Stalling over something, is what you are."

"Yeah—" Cory pushed his chair away from Lori a few inches. "Look, Lori. If I share something with you, will it stay between us? Can you—I mean really—keep it quiet? Not tell anyone?"

"Ominous. But yes. You know I would. I kept my own secret for twelve thousand years."

"You mean about the—" Cory glanced spontaneously at her crotch, and quickly removed his gaze. "Sorry."

"No problem. It's not new to me, but it is to you. And it's okay."

"Welcome to being 'trans,'" Cory said.

Lori smiled. "A whole new batch of brothers and sisters. I didn't think of it, but I'm in. What's up?"

"Nothing I talk about."

"Is it bigger than a breadbox?"

Cory shook his head no. Well, yes."

"Does Estella know about it?"

"Yes, but we don't even tell the kids. They're from her former marriage, you know."

"Yes— Oh, can you not have kids? Is that it?"

Cory shook his head. "No— Yes, but—"

Lori made a face that expressed her frustration, and she stared at him.

Cory said nothing.

Lori said, "John would have ignored the whole thing and waited years until you talk, but now I'm curious, so—fess up!"

"You've got English idioms down."

"I've been American longer than you! Neophites!" Lori didn't really think of people as neophites. She was just pressuring a friend to talk. "Tell me what's on your mind!"

Cory looked uncomfortable.

"Lwaxana, do you know what's bothering Cory?"

"Yes," came her simple reply.

"Tell me."

"That would be confidential," Lwaxana said.

"Good girl," Cory said. "See?" he said to Lori, "I give her some Double-A batteries now and then, and she likes me—"

Lori sat back onto the couch and waited, stared at him.

Cory took a breath and thought. "I never go into it. It's been a source of embarrassment to me—surgeries haven't been good enough—only made worse by me going on T.V. these last several years for documentaries. I know it shouldn't matter, and that other people would get over it, but— It's just my thing, okay?"

"Okay." Lori impersonated patience.

"Or it's not my thing, and that's the thing," Cory said, and then almost as a segue, "Transmutations are in full swing, most needy first, and I've not put my hand in—"

"You're only, like, thirty-five or something, Cory— Do you have cancer?"

He shook his head.

The two of them walked down a long hallway into a back portion of the huge house.

"What a big chicken," Lori chastised Cory. "But you're still in your first century. Lwaxana?" Lori asked her transmuter's A.I. "Is the house secure?"

"The house is secure."

"Can you open up the vault?"

"Opening." A section of wall moved and a room was exposed, perhaps thirty by fifty that housed Lwaxana.

"Hello," Lori said to her.

"Good afternoon," Lwaxana said in return.

"Lets see, today, if we can do something for Cory. Cory, you'll need to strip down and get up on there."

"Naked?"

"That's the way it works, kido."

"Oh, Jesus, this is embarrassing— Did you know Jesus?"

Lori rolled her eyes. "Yes, actually. I suppose."

Cory gawked at her, but Lori would have none of it. "Strip," she said. "Everything. Right now. No reason to dally. Pants, shirt off, underwear, socks, all of it."

Cory hesitated slightly.

"Right now," Lori said, "I'm like your doctor on steroids. Just do it— And, while we're at it, Cory, would you like to tweak anything else? Your memory? Your shoulders? Your hips? Want to lose some weight? Because, even if we use your current form, with mods, as your own template, it'll still be a whole new body."

"You're not going to kill me with that thing?" Cory indicated Lwaxana.

"Big baby! I've done this like a thousand times. Get to it."

Cory took all his clothes off and Lori looked him over. "Yup. No penis."

Cory looked startled.

"No, you can't have mine. Turn around, please."

Barefoot on the floor, Cory turned completely around for her.

"Enlarged clit. Scars from double mastectomy. Muscles building. Smallish shoulders— You've been wearing boxy shirts?"

"Habitually."

"I think your ribs are too smallish, and your hips do flare. You know, when you get older, you're going to grow there. Fat will deposit. Your figure will change." Lori smiled. "Cory, really, I never guessed. And that lady today blew me away with her ideas. It's been a long time since that happened. I think I've really been behind the times. I'm sorry. I haven't been much of a friend." She put her hand over her heart. "But I'm catching up.

"How would you like— Lwaxana, can you put up some suggested appearances for Cory in male form on this screen here?"

"Working."

Cory looked at Lori with a question.

Lori smiled. "John did like Star Trek, and he asked Lwaxana for an adjustment in interface. It was kinda funny, actually. And I like her."

The screen showed an image of Cory, naked.

"Lwaxana," Cory asked, "is it okay if I also talk with you?"

"It is alright," Lwaxana said.

"Lets see. Can you adjust the shoulders wider? Ribs larger? Yes, like that. And can you make the hips smaller? Thighs smaller? The whole thing a little more muscular? How about another three inches in height?"

Lwaxana did. The changes were immediate on the screen.

Then to Lori, "I'm really not Arnold Swarzenegger. But I do like to look good in a suit."

Lori smiled at him. "You will."

"Additional weight thirty-four point eight three three pounds."

"Where are you going to get the extra mass?" Cory asked Lwaxana.

"From the earth. Atoms are taken, energized, reformed and used for you."

"It will feel like me? To me?" Cory asked Lori.

She nodded. "You'll go to sleep, wake in a few seconds, dick and all. Balls—"

"Can I have children with Estella?"

"Yes," Lori said. "If she can. And they'll be your children. You'll have— That's a good question. Lwaxana, normally we sample someone's D.N.A. and develop their best compliment for them. Their own D.N.A. corrected for mutations. But Cory's D.N.A. is female?"

"Yes," Lwaxana said. "Most of it. If he desires, we can alter it to the XY."

"You can do that, too?" Cory asked Lwaxana.

"Yes."

"I can be XY? You can fix that, without changing who I am? What about in my brain?"

"Do you want her to tweak it?" Lori asked.

Cory looked back and forth between Lwaxana and Lori. "Lwaxana, can I have the same brain, the same thought processes—still just me—but change the chromosomes inside to the XY? I like my brain the way it is except for that. I don't want to change anything else. Though if you see something unhealthy, can you fix that?"

"Yes. I can do that," Lwaxana said.

"When will you be ready?"

"I was ready five minutes ago, Cory," Lwaxana said. "Just letting you process things. Please pick the appearance you like. Your body will be free of any illness and not prone to any for the forseeable future. It will use disease resistance I've scanned in your current body, but it will be male. You will feel different at first, maybe out of sorts, but it will grow on you rapidly. I recommend no free mountain climbing for a period of one week while you adjust, and no sex for several hours while a mild shock wears off, as you might not be able to get it up until then—"

Cory laughed, rubbed his hands together, and got on the table, turning parallel to it, reclining. "You have got to be kidding me!"

Lori laughed at him. "I'd say 'relax,' but Lwaxana will do that for you." She reached to him, lying his legs and arms straight, and she positioned his head carefully. A strap came out of the bed and lightly secured his head.

"Now, I won't do anything until you say, Cory, okay? All you have to do is hold still. Just relax."

"What if I move?" he said. "On reflex?"

"It won't matter," Lwaxana said. "She's just putting you at ease."

"I'm ready," Cory said to her. "Please. Do it. Now. Fast."

Lori nodded.

"Lwaxana, please do it."

Cory's body went limp, all expression fell from his face. His breathing stopped. Then his body appeared fuzzy, morphed into a new form larger than the first, taking shape over the period of four seconds. His heart began. His breathing began anew.

And his eyes snapped wide open.

The head strap disappeared and revealed the capital letter T placed on his left temple, just in front of the hairline.

His arms flew to his chest, his face, and then to his groin. He held his penis and scrotum, bent his knees.

"Lori— My voice! It's different!"

"I can change that back, if you want," Lwaxana said.

"It was good before, but now it's wonderful!"

Cory sat up on the table.

"Wait a second," Lori said. "Adjust. You don't want to— You could faint."

"My heart is strong?" he asked.

"Yes, but everything's different. Give it a second. Your legs are longer, your arms. Your center of mass is higher. You might fall over if you get up. Give it a second!"

Cory sat on the edge of the table and flexed his arms, legs, feet, toes. "It feels good. No problem! I can do this!"

He got off the table and fell on his face, laughing. "Ah ha ha! You're kidding me! Look at this!"

Lori bent over to help him, but she needn't have bothered.

Cory got back up in a second, braced himself with a hand on the transmuter, and felt the floor with his feet.

He looked into a mirror on the opposite wall, examined himself. He touched his left temple. "And I've got the transmuter's T on my temple."

"We'll need those for society until most people have been through it, just to keep records straight. Printed pictures on driver's licenses won't do any more. Rock your torso side to side. Feel it," Lori said.

He did.

"Yeah, it— It's heavier, but I'm stronger— I feel so heavier, but more able!"

"More mass. Don't swing that body around, or you could hurt Estella. You've got to get used to it."

He grabbed his groin again. "Oh, it's not pain I'm gonna give her. You just wait and see. She's gonna flip!"

"She knows, right?"

"I'm coming here? Yup! Believe you me, we talked about it— Oh, what about things like my retina and fingerprints?"

"They are the same, for personnel identification," Lwaxana said. "However, your chromosome compliment, in your case, is different, so previous D.N.A. tests, depending, may not relate."

"THAT'S OKAY! I NEVER HAD ANY!" Then to Lori, "I was stealth, so—for obvious reasons. How old am I?"

Lwaxana anwered. "Why do people talk as if I'm not here? You are the same age. Your body appears maybe five years younger, thirty-ish, but for health purposes, it's about twenty. That's what I do."

A young brunette walked into the room and stopped to smile at Cory. "And this is?" she asked.

Cory stood on his own two feet, no longer self-conscious about being nude. "I'm Cory Peck. Westech. Biology. Wanna shake hands? I'm new to it."

"I'm not," The lady held out her hand for a shake. "It's one of my old tricks."

Cory looked to Lori with a question.

Lori leaned over and hugged her warmly, deeply.

The brunette was about five foot five, well proportioned, shoulder-length hair, seemed delighted at everything, perhaps 20 years old. She had a T on her left temple.

"So who is this?" Cory asked.

"My name's Marie Curie Faraday," she said.

"Marie?" Cory looked her over carefully, then to Lori. "Marie?"

Marie giggled and jumped up and down once, turned around. "You're my first other human!"

### CHAPTER

### 13

"This is Marie?" Cory looked to Lori then back to Marie. "Marie who?" Cory asked suspiciously.

Marie giggled at Cory.

Lori took all her clothes off—

Cory stared at her crotch. "Yup," he said in confirmation.

Lori smiled at him absentmindedly, climbed onto the bed of the transmuter. "Lwaxana, I'm looking 50s. Can you take me down, be 20s, yet look 30s? Dark brown hair like Marie's? Use the robust template?"

"Working."

Lori explained for Cory. "I let myself age for everyone, staying with John for so long. But now the cat's out of the bag."

Cory stated at her. "You really do have a— And all this time—"

Lori smiled at him again.

Marie moved to observe the process.

"Robust template?" Cory asked.

Lori nodded. "I've been working hard. Lwaxana has several different templates for me—all me, but tweaked a little, depending on what I'm doing."

"So now you need to be robust," Cory said.

Lori smiled, laying her head back on the bed. Little straps rose to hold her head. "It's just a little more strength. Helps me work in a stressful environment."

"So after twenty thousand years alive, you still feel stress."

"I don't bring all that with me all the time, hon. I'm rather present centered, taking each day as it's here."

"Ready," Lwaxana said.

"Please do it," Lori said.

Cory and Marie watched.

Lori's body relaxed, quit breathing, then morphed/dissolved into the same Lori, yet younger, somehow—healthier.

Lori took a deep breath and felt her new body.

"How is that?" Lwaxana asked Lori.

Lori sat up, looked in the mirror on the opposite wall, did a quick systems check. She had a T on her left temple, also. "It feels great. Thank you, Lwaxana." She got off the table and dressed.

"Just like that," Cory said.

"Well, she's used to it," Marie said.

"You!" Cory said. "You were— Why is your name 'Marie'? I knew a 'Marie' here—" He held out his hand to knee height.

Marie nodded vigorously and giggled at him. "That's me. Was me, when I was little."

"You're the same Marie?" Cory asked Marie, then to Lori, "How's that possible?"

"What's new? You know I came to Earth and changed to this species. It's kinda similar to that, with a few other mods."

"Mods!" Cory began to giggle a little himself. "Like it's nothing. Marie! You were their dog?"

Marie nodded, giggled at Cory.

"What's that like?" Cory asked. "How—"

"Oh! I just thought," Lori said. "You need to get dressed, Cory, but you can't put your clothes back on. You don't have any. Your old ones won't fit any more; you're bigger."

Lori and Marie stared at him.

He seemed a little embarrassed, which only encouraged them.

"Can Lwaxana make some for me?" Cory asked.

"I don't do clothes," Lwaxana said, as if with pride. "I save lives. I do bodies. I am not a seamstress."

Up in the house, Lori began giving instructions. "Marie, would you go to your room and get ready? Pack a change of cothes and some toiletries—in that little bag we got at the store?"

"Okay, Mom."

"Mom!" Cory watched Marie go down the hall.

"Come on," Lori said to Cory. She walked down the hallway into the bedroom. She opened the closet and found some clothes for both Cory and herself. "You can probably wear some of this."

"John's clothes."

"I haven't donated them, yet," Lori said. "I just can't."

"I'm honored. They're slightly big for me."

"You'll be alright, until you get to a store for more."

Cory began to dress, while Lori tapped her Apple watch.

"Yes, Mrs. Faraday?" Major Wood said over the phone.

"Can you ready the plane? In maybe a couple of hours, we'll need to depart for Washington, D.C. We can fly red-eye tonight. I have an appointment with the President in the morning."

"'I have an appointment with the President'?" Cory laughed at himself. "The world ain't what it used to be."

"Who all's coming?" Wood asked.

"Uh," Lori thought. "You, me, Marie—maybe Cory, I don't know."

"Me?"

"Want to?"

"What I need to do is go home and take my wife around the world, but— hold on." Lori and Wood did hold on while Cory checked with his wife on the phone. "Sure!" he then told Lori. "This is a special thing, you bet."

"It looks like and Cory," Lori said into the Apple watch.

"Who is Marie?" Wood asked.

"She's my daughter. She's one of the reasons we're going."

"You don't have a daughter, Lori," Wood said. "I've known you for three months, and you don't have a daughter."

"R&D, James."

The three swung through Nordstrom in Santa Barbara, on State Street, to get some clothes for Cory that actually fit.

Marie bought a couple of things for herself, including a scarf for her neck and a flowing dress that seemed one size fits all.

Lori worked with her, guiding, teaching.

Two and a half hours later, they climbed into Lori's Boeing 737-Max-9 personal jet. There was a full bathroom in the rear, complete with shower, a full closet, a kitchen, complete with a cook/server, and several first class chairs, all of which would fold down into a flat twin-sized bed.

"Why not have some actual Queen beds in here?" Cory asked.

"Turbulence," Wood said. "If we hit a pocket, anyone sleeping in an open bed could hit the ceiling."

"These chairs all have seat belts, which you can wear while sleeping," Lori said.

"No cockpit door," Cory noted.

"Mom says if some pilot wanted to commit suicide with her in the plane, she wants to be able to disable him."

"You could do that?" Cory asked Lori.

Lori nodded confidently.

"What if he's got a gun?" Cory asked.

Lori nodded.

"What does that mean?" Cory asked.

Lori chatted with the two pilots. "Everybody ready? D.C. bound. We're going slow, so we have time to sleep."

"Right."

"Sure."

"What about Wood's protection detail for you?" Cory asked.

"The one in D.C. will pick us up," he said.

Everybody strapped in.

The jet took off from Santa Barbara to the west, out over the ocean, then turning to angle toward the east, climbing to flight level three five oh, 35,000 feet.

"Doritos?" the cook/steward asked Cory.

"First class joint," Wood said. He reached over and took the bag that was offered to Cory.

The steward gave Cory another bag.

Drinks were served to everyone.

Cory turned his seat around, facing Marie, Lori, and Wood, but he stared at Marie. "You mind?" He indicated questions.

"Sure," Marie said.

"You were— That lovely, little—"

Marie giggled at him. "Yes."

"How in the hell?" he asked Lori.

"Cory," Lori said. "Like I said—"

"Yeah, but this isn't just a species change. It's an evolution. The neuro-circuitry—"

Lori nodded.

"What evolution," Wood asked.

"Marie," Cory said. "She used to be Lori and John's English Springer Spaniel. Now, she's—Lori's human daughter?"

Lori smiled, took out her cell phone to show pictures to Wood. "See? Here she is playing on the beach—"

The photo was of a dog chasing a stick.

"What?!" Wood said gaping at Marie.

"Jim— Cory!" Lori said. "You guys—"

"You kept this a big secret!" Cory said.

"That's what R&D is," Lori said. "But it worked, and now I'm going to show it to Cadence— Try to get Marie a birth certificate—"

Wood got out of his chair to stand apart from them. "You used Lwaxana to morph her into being?"

"Yup," Marie said.

Wood went over to Marie and touched her on the shoulder.

Marie giggled.

"How old are you?" Wood asked.

"Twenty," Marie said. "I guess. I mean, I was fourteen, but that was dog years, which means I was elderly there, but I'm about twenty, here."

"You remember being a dog?"

Marie nodded.

"What's it like?" Cory asked.

"You remember being five years old?" Marie asked him.

Cory nodded.

"It's probably like that. You were here. You knew it. You remember things. You had feelings. But not much cerebral detail. Kinda like that—as if you used to be that, a long time ago, but now you're all grown up.

"Dogs are people, too, you know," Marie said. "There isn't much difference other than simplicity and form. Genetically, we're close enough."

"How did she learn all this stuff in only three months?" Cory asked Lori. "I mean, there is so much less neural activity in a canine brain compared to a human. Where did you get the brain to grow her into, if you will? Without losing the neural net that made her her?"

"I asked Lwaxana to make a template for her as she was, then I asked her to successively blend one of my more playful templates with hers over time—through several steps over a couple of months—and voila: Marie."

"Why not all at once?" Cory asked.

"I thought it would be important for her to experience life with each step, to help memories root."

"We took it in as few steps as possible," Marie said. "Kinda like growing up without much waiting."

"So she knows a lot of things you know," Cory said to Lori. Then to Marie, "You know a lot of the same things Lori knows?"

Marie nodded. "Not everything, but a lot of it, I guess."

"John?"

Marie nodded.

"Coming to Earth in a space ship?"

"A little," Marie said.

"Having sex?"

Marie giggled.

"My memories aren't the same as hers," Marie said, "but you can think of it as if we were raised in the same house, experienced a lot of the same things."

"She's a mini-you," Cory asked Lori.

"No, not like that. Just—more like my daughter. Which she really is, D.N.A. and all."

Lori gave Marie another hug and turned back to them. "The old standard of the species was that you had to be born that way. Nothing else was possible. Same for sex or gender. But that's old school."

"You embarrassed to have been a dog?" Cory asked her. "It's a cut down, to humans. Shouldn't be, but—"

Marie laughed at Cori. "No. It was fun! I could run like nobody's business. And I'm great, now, too. I love this."

"Holy buckets," Wood said.

"You got that saying from me," Cory said.

"It's mine, now."

The President sat gracefully in one of the two couches in her Oval Office.

Lori, Marie, Cory, Wood, and Georgina Wells, Secretary of State, sat or stood variously around the office.

Gadin took a seat next to Marie.

"Thank you, Gadin, for getting my transmuter up and running," Cadence said.

"No problem," Gadin said, smiling at everyone. "Glad to be of service! Marie! I don't believe what I'm hearing from them. You look beautiful!"

Marie's eyes glanced at Lori and Cory, then back to Gadin. "Thank you," she said. "So do you."

"I never knew you from before," Gadin said. "I'm sorry. But I'm glad to meet you now. Lori's new daughter?"

"She's been my mother, and John my father, my whole life. I've never known a time without them."

"Did you know when your father died?"

Marie looked to Lori then back to Gadin and nodded. "I knew it was something, because Mom was so upset. I think I sensed it, without knowing the words. I was sad, too."

"I'm so sorry for you," Gadin said.

"You were an effing dog!" Gina said, which lightened the mood for everyone. "Oh! Sorry, Marie. It's not a cut. It's just that I'm amazed." She went over and gave Marie a big hug."

"That's one of the things I'd like to do here, today?" Lori said it like a question. "Do I need to adopt her to claim her? Can she be a citizen? I mean, she's real."

"We'll work it out," Gina said. "No problem. One way or another, she's yours." She turned to Marie. "You were born in the U.S.?"

"Yes. In Kansas, actually."

"Well, that makes it easier."

"You good with this?" Gina asked. "Say your whole name?"

"Marie Curie Faraday. And yes, She is my mother. John Michel Faraday was my father. I am Lori's daughter."

"Birth certificate." Gina turned to Lori. "You know you're both young adults, now." She rolled her eyes. "This world is so different."

"That's what I've been saying," Cory said.

"All of you have the little T on your left temple— You didn't used to have one, Lori— But then you are younger, now, so you would."

"While we're in process, I thought a person might want to mark as a T so that social systems and people will know their old I.D. is a mis-match. Once pretty much everyone in the world goes through this, it will have no point, so it'll be phased out. But we'll have to use retinas or finger prints or something. At least that's my thought."

Gina smiled. "Everybody's becoming trans."

Cadence thought. "Lori, could someone use one of the transmuters to do this to others? Like Marie?"

Lori shook her head. "No. Lwaxana and I discussed it beforehand. The transmuters are for humans, for rejuvenation only, health, longevity. That's what it's for. Other things, I've reserved."

"Could they use transmuters to make a race of superbeings?" Cadence asked. "Supersoldiers? An army of Arnold Swarzeneggers?"

"No," Lori told her. "Same thing. We discussed it. The same template, or similar templates, cannot be used that way. It's just about rejuvenation, adjustments in appearance—fitting with that, changes in gender, sex—which are becoming rather popular, I hear?"

"They are," Gina said. "Some twenty percent of all people going through transmuters seem to be opting to be the other gender—aware they can switch back later if they don't like it—and I hope it works out, too, because if anything ever went wrong with the gizmos, they'd be stuck with it. And the thing is, maybe fifteen percent of those who want the other gender want certain features—or even want to be interex, like Lori."

Gina shook her head.

Cory looked at Gina critically.

"That head shake," Gina said, "is wonderment, not criticism. And the truth is, I— Once transmuters are fully integrated into society, after the big rush when everyone's trying to stay alive, making quick-decisions in their life, after they're a part of norml living? What will people wind up doing with themselves?" Gina looked to people for ideas. Seeing none, "I think the range of variation in human expression will be—"

Cory finished for her, "Much greater than anyone ever expected—"

Gina nodded. "It's a trans world."

Cory continued, "The way it's been, we've been locked into a form rather set at birth, and then only with limited variations allowed by the former state of medical technology."

"What's the rate of people asking to be reverted to their former gender?" Lori asked.

Gina shook her head. "Of the hundreds of thousands who have opted for it so far? Only a few, but it also hasn't been very long, so far."

"It can be quite a shift," Cory said.

All turned to look at him.

Cory explained, no longer self-conscious. "I've always been a man, mis-assigned at birth because of external features. I was transgender, switched to a man. Lori took my transition to where I wanted it, so I'm just male, now—trans, like everyone else."

"No kidding?" Wood asked.

Cory nodded to him. "And I thought I'd like to go for the whole salami. Wanna see?" Cory stood and readied himself to remove his pants.

"No!" Gina said. "No problem."

Cadence and others smiled at him. "We believe you."

Cory grinned and sat back down.

Cadence asked. "But what if a certain body type becomes popular, like something that looks like Angelina Jolie or something?"

"Well," Lori said. "They could. We could have millions of Angelina Jolies and Brad Pitts running around, I guess. But they would not be super-soldiers, unless they were in a movie and there was a good script."

Cadence asked Lori, "What about the intelligence in the transmuters' artificial intelligence trying to reach out and infect global computer systems? Taking over?"

Lori explained, "These transmuters, the intelligence within them, are A.I.s far ahead of our own. And unlike may be shared in sci-fi novels, the smarter you get, the more you weigh things, and that includes an A.I. bigotry, where they might think they're superior to us organic thinking machines. We're being nurtured by them, for sure. It's been going on for a hundred thousand years. It's nothing new. But it's subtle. For betterment, where it occurs, and, actually, it's based on human desire to be better—like Cory, there. You wanted to be how you felt would be better in some ways—"

Cory nodded.

Lori explained further. "But they do not think they're better than us. There is built within a respect for life as it chooses to grow, nurtured only along a path that is sought. Interference is unwise, something Ahleth have known for millions of years, though some big mistakes have happened. We're not perfect. All other transmuters I've created on this planet, generations down from Lwaxana, are a copy of her brain—in he areas of human rejuvenation and shape, only."

"And you broke the code to help us," Cadence said.

"Uh, that I did," Lori said. "I— I've been wondering about this a long time. At some point, a society can move into an age of rejuvenation. That is not unusual. What's unusual is for someone like me to make the decision. It's above my paygrade."

Cadence thought. "What was your role in Ahleth society?"

"I was like a navigator on the ship," Lori said. "And, I think, trouble-maker."

"You weren't the captain?" Gadin asked.

Lori shook her head. "I had good spatial awareness. I interfaced with the ship's A.I. in getting us from place to place."

"So you were like a junior officer?" Cadence asked.

"Uh, medium, I guess. There were no officers, or enlisted. A different system. I was the one who did that, and I've made a unilateral decision to do this. It's not what I'm supposed to do."

"What about transmuters working with other Ahleths who are on this planet?"

### CHAPTER

### 14

Lori, Cadence, and Gina left the others to talk in the Oval Office, while they went down the hall to an elevator.

"Gadin got it all set up for us," Cadence said. "Supposedly it's fine. Do you have a way to check that it's set up right?"

"Hasn't Gadine already run some people through it?" Lori asked.

"Yes," Gina said. "A few of us from State, some administrative staff. But it's just that she's the President."

Lori nodded.

Inside the elevator, Cadence pressed a button for a lower floor. The doors closed on one floor and opened on another.

One physician and two Secret Service agents were waiting for them. "Good morning, Madam President," one said.

"Hello Harry," Cadence said. "Good to see you." Then to Lori, "Harry runs my detail."

"We'd like to run some checks before you go in as well as after. If that's okay?"

Cadence nodded. "I understand."

The agent held up an instrument and read Cadence's retina. Cadence placed her hand on a palm reader to scan both her palm and finger prints. The physician drew a little blood.

Lori waited patiently while they finished.

"All done?" Cadence asked.

Everyone nodded.

Cadence took a large breath and let it out sowly, then spoke to Lori. "It's kinda important to do this right."

"Yes, it is," Lori said.

"Gina?" Cadence asked her Secretary of State. "Look good to you?"

Cadence nodded. "I've been getting a bit of a cold. We might as well shake that, too."

"We'll be alone in there," Cadence said.

"Be back in a few," Lori said. "We'll talk. She'll decide. Maybe ten or fifteen minutes."

Lori and Cadence entered the next room together and closed the door behind them.

The Cadence who emerged from the room twelve minutes later appeared to be the same woman, though younger, in her forties.

Lori looked calm.

"Madam President?" Gina asked.

"Lets see," Cadence said. "Scan me, Harry?"

The Agent checked her with his instruments. "Same retina, same fingerprints." Blood was drawn. "We'll check the D.N.A. right away, but, yes, you appear to be the President. May I take your new photo for the computer's image recognition system, Madam President?"

"Sure." Cadence stood against a wall for its bland background. Several photos were taken of her, the T on her left temple, with a smile, without...

"I need to do a systems check," Gina said. "Madam President, what party are you?"

Cadence grinned at Gina. "The party of we ain't in no way stuck up."

Gina smiled. "What do you think about abortion?"

"I'm in favor a woman's right to choose," Cadence said.

"An LGBT Equal Rights Amendment?"

"Of course," Cadence said. "Better yet, an all-human equal rights amendment."

"The war on drugs?" Gina asked.

"Frightful waste of money. We should legalize and tax the things. Balance the budget in two weeks. What are we doing letting the black market administer the business."

"What was that business we discussed before you were even elected?" Gina asked.

Cadence leaned over and whispered into Gina's ear.

Gina smiled and withdrew. "Sounds like her," she said to Harry.

"You didn't want to look twenty?" Harry asked Cadence.

Cadence shook her head. "The world's not all that accustomed to transmutation yet. I'll still get more respect if I look a little older. But I'm twenty, inside, where it counts. The forty is just appearance."

Harry looked at Cadence earnestly. "Can I do it?"

All looked at each other then him. "Have we got a minute," Cadence asked.

"Sure," Gina said.

Harry looked relieved, as if a huge stress was being removed.

Nine minutes later, two women exited the transmutation room, looked at the group.

Lori was smiling.

The other woman also had a T on her left temple and was crying.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Lori said. "Please let me introduce Hanah."

Hanah was the same height Harry had been, a striking 6' tall model from a Paris fashion show, slim and shapely. She wore harry's suit coat over her shoulders, yet she was nude otherwise, as there was no way Harry's pants would fit over her ample hips. Where Harry's hair had been brown, Hanah had long blond hair, which fell loosely around her shoulders.

Hanah's face was red. Tears streamed. Her hands flew to her cheeks to wipe them dry.

Everyone stared at Hanah's crotch, glancing up now and then at other parts of her body.

"I'm sorry," Hanah said, "but I just couldn't tell on the chance it wouldn't happen—"

"Jesus, Harry," the other Secret Service agent said. "You wanted to be like Lori? The penis—"

"I like it!" Hanah said. "So what of it! Lori has one!"

"Sounded like a girl when she said that," the agent said. "You also have a vagina? Can you still shoot—I bet so."

"Not funny," Lori said.

"Does anyone have a dress?" Hanah looked to all of them for an answer.

"I don't think you can work well on my detail in a dress," Cadence said. "You can't manage it. And sensitble shoes for running will look wretched with it—"

"I've been wearing dresses my whole life, Madam President. It's no problem. And I've got thirty-six years of catch up to do."

Cadence held up her hands defensively. "Okay. No problem. I have a spare one in my room. We're about the same size in the shoulders. You're taller, but—"

Hanah was surprised. "Madam President! I couldn't take yours!"

"I'm not that stuffy. Consider it a welcoming present. Hanah is your new name?"

Hanah nodded.

Cadence smiled yet pressed, "Why did you keep this a secret?"

"I had a security clearance, which I might lose, and I wanted so much to be your bodyguard, and—" She shook her head. "I was so ashamed."

"Now, we'll have none of that," Gina said, wrapping an arm around Hanah's shoulders.

"It's okay," Cadence hugged Hanah right around Gina's arm. We're liberal here. The Republicans don't have the White House this term. They'd probably have shot you on site, or most of them." Cadence put her hand over her heart. "But I don't care. I've thought about having one of those, myself."

Gina broke into a smile and shook her head.

"Really?" Hanah asked.

"I'd probably get more respect out of congress, if I did."

### CHAPTER

### 15

The whole group stood together on the White House 2nd floor balcony overlooking the South Lawn. Cadence was in the same suit she had on an hour earlier. Lori wore her standard slacks and blouse. Gina wore a pantsuit with a fluffy tie at the neck. Cory wore the suit he bought at Nordstrom. Gadin stood next to Marie with his arm around her shoulders. Marie wore a smile. Major Wood was in his Army uniform, sporting new eagles, eyeing Hanah. And Hanah—serious in her continuing role as head of the President's protection detail—had her long blond hair pulled back into a tight pony tail, and wore large, dark RayBans over a white, sleeveless, mini-dress with flowers on it, zipped up the back, which made her look stunning, yet with a pair of Nikes on her feet which made her look fast.

A crowd of at least three thousand covered the lawn to the south: people, voters, businessmen and women, military, news reporters, securitiy personnel.

Hanah's face was fixed, steady, even stern. Her head moved slightly from side to side as she scannd the area—while a tear crept slowly down her cheek.

Lori reached out and touched Hanah's hand, gave it a squeeze.

Cadence noticed.

Hanah leaned her head to touch Lori's, then she back to work.

Cadence stepped forward.

The crowd below began to applaud. Cadence turned her head to the right, revealing a capital T. Camera crews zoomed in on Cadence's face, and the applause from below turned into cheers. The few who booed were drowned out by the overwhelming number of people in favor.

Cadence spoke quietly to the seven with her. "Will you all step forward and join me?"

They did.

Cadence waited until the cheers from the crowd began to die down before she addressed them.

"Good morning, everyone: fellow Americans, ladies and gentlemen, people who don't want to fit old fashioned binary norms—" There were a few chuckles from below, drowned out by many more cheers. "People of the world, those born here, and those who immigrated: It is with great pleasure we're here, today, to greet each other in this, the dawning of a new age in the history of the world." People began to cheer again. "GOOD MORNING," Cadence said to them, inviting a response.

"Good morning!" the crowd said in unison below.

"I stand here today with friends—and that means all of you."

The crowd laughed and responded in kind.

"And also these good people who are sharing with me here on this balcony. I've been given permission to share, so I will: Full Colonel Wood, who just got promoted a few minutes ago, who has been in charge of Lori Faraday's protection, and who's done a fine job."

Applause.

Colonel Wood gave the assemblage below a stiff smile and waved a little.

Cadence smiled. "He really ought to loosen up a little."

Laughter.

"From the looks of it, Hanah might help him."

Hanah looked around, nervous.

"Hanah Hamilton, Chief of my security detail, Secret Service."

Hanah smiled a little and waved at the crowd.

"It's okay?" Cadence asked Hanah.

Hanah nodded.

"Okay," Cadence told her, then to the crowd. "Hanah was Harry, until about an hour ago—remember him? He was always here: stern, brown-haired guy?—and it turns out she's a woman."

The crowd applauded Hanah pleasantly.

"Who'd have thought, the way things were?" She turned to indicate Cory. "Cory Peck, who you've all seen on T.V. several times."

Cory smiled and waved. "Cory doesn't look quite like himself, because it turns out he was F.T.M. transgender, living stealth, and now he's been through the transmuter, so he butched up a little."

The crowd chuckled.

"My God, it's like reincarnation!" Cory said to the crowd, eliciting a few whoops.

"Georgina Wells, Secretary of State, whom you all recognize. She hasn't been through the transmuter yet, um," Cadence turned toward Gina. "Are you wanting to?"

"I think I will, after the bustle dies down," Gina said.

"Gadin Malhotra, Ph.D., from Stanford. Computer Science," Cadence said to the crowd. "Friend of Cory's—well, all of us, now."

Gadin waved.

"And who has been making eyes at Marie over there. Marie, could you come over here?"

Marie looked embarrassed but walked to the President's side.

"And Lori," Cadence indicated her.

Lori walked to Marie's side.

The crowd went wild, cheering for Lori.

"Lori!"

"Wooooo-hoo!"

"Thank you, Lori!"

"My dad's alive because of you!"

"Lori!"

Cadence waited until the noise passed before she spoke some more. "And with this, let me share with you something new."

The crowd quieted.

"Marie, would you like to greet everyone?"

Marie looked shy but offered a quiet, "Hello, everyone."

"Marie, you know the world's been in flux for the last three months since your mom, Lori, gave transmuters to us. Do you have anything you'd like to say?"

Marie turned and hugged Lori, shedding tears on her shoulder.

"It's okay," Lori said to her. "It'll be okay."

Marie nodded. "Okay."

The large screen below and to the right carried a closeup of the three: the President, Lori, and Marie.

"She's just being a little shy," Lori said to everyone. "She's always been bashful, when she wasn't bouncy."

Cadence asked Marie. "Marie, do you remember your father? John Michael Faraday?"

Marie nodded.

"Can you tell me about him?"

"He loved me very much. We used to jog together at the beach, sit together and watch T.V. sometimes. We would go places in the car. I got to go to work with him at Westech a few times, that was nice. And when he died, three months ago, I know it hurt my mom so very much."

"And you remember seeing him? Loving him? You remember things he would say to you?"

Marie nodded. "Yes."

"Thank you. Let me come back to that in a second?" Cadence asked.

Marie nodded.

Cadence addressed the crowd below.

The crowd murmured.

Cadence held up he hand. "Let me share in a moment. I know it's unusual for me to ask someone the kind of questions I just asked Marie, as she's obviously about twenty years old.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I need to touch on the major adjustment we've been going through here on Earth these last three months since Lori gave us the transmuter. We all know about it. Many of us have been able to go through it, and the death rate has plummeted.

"We have a lot of adjustment still to make. I think I'd be remiss if I didn't note that there are several groups of people who take objection to rejuvenation, living longer. There are many religious people who feel it's against God's natural law to interfere with death, and with respect, I think most of them are speaking without the benefit of dying themselves. I think it's one thing to believe that death is natural, and it's another to actually die— Yet, if someone prefers not to use a transmuter and let nature take its course, then that is a choice we will respect."

Cadence looked more thoughtful and raised her hands as if to ask the cosmos a question, then proceded with her speech.

"Everything is changing, because of advancements in medicine, technology, with our ability to live longer, now—but also with more than that: with the continuing evolution of our cultures around the globe.

"I beg you to hear me: Even as much as many people fear change or fear advancement, or believe life should be as it was hundreds or thousands of years ago, or believe that religious texts should guide our current belief in what is right or wrong, the fact is that knowledge and cultures advance. There is no way around it. I don't mean to agree with every new idea that comes along, but fighting them—and by that I mean hurting people, vandalism, killing people, creating terror or war. Fighting the evolution of ourselves as human beings, fighting evolutions in our culture, like that, only creates heartache and pain along the way. The culture will still evolve along the lines of who we are inside as human beings.

"The internal nature of us as humans will guide us along our path. Things will always change.

"How we can cure this, or make that better. How we may engage in space travel, colonize the Moon or Mars. The answer is: how we may as people."

Cadence turned slightly to look at Lori, then others on the balcony with her, then back to the assemblage.

"Look at trans people. They've always been with societies in one way or another, working with laws, culture and science to be what they can be. And as science and culture move foreward, we see more and more people express their need or interest in being somewhere else in a spectrum, to transit.

"Many people disdain that, saying it's wrong. Each person has his own reasons. But it's here, and here to stay.

"We argue in Congress, in the press, in our living rooms about the pros and cons of allowing other people into the country? Immigration? About whether or not Caitlyn Jenner or some other celebrity should be a new gender? About whether or not an Army can function if gays or trans are among them? We worry that if one nation attacks us, then other people from that country might be spies? Remember we incarcerated American citizens in WW-II who were Japanese—"

Cadence looked at everyone.

Gravitas.

She held up her hands in front of herself.

"We need all that to just stop.

"We need to stop trying to make others in our own image.

"Anthropologists teach us that when we were a younger species, struggling to survive, day to day, with no formal education we'd recognize today, that being suspicious of things that were different was a survival mechanism—that new food, that new pond of water, that other tribe, that thing that was different. Things that were different could be good, but they could also be dangerous. When something worked, doing only that meant survival. Doing something different could kill.

"Yet, when things in the world change, doing that same old thing as before could become the problem—something that no longer worked.

"So what happened? People who couldn't change struggled. People who took a chance succeeded.

"They didn't know. They had no science, no internet, no mass communication. They just struggled with it.

"But as we continue to grow as a species, as we've developed great universities around the world, as we've learned we've seen the value of immigration," she looked strongly at Lori, "—of learning through cultural exchange, of creative ideas that come from diversity—we need to grow as a species through an earlier, suspicious time in our physical and cultural evolution to a place where we can utilize what we're learning.

"This is vital to our survival as a species. In a nuclear age, in a weaponized viral age, in an internet age, this ability to use our forebrain over our midbrain is vital to our survival.

"In short, we need to evolve from the earliest man who threw a bone in the air, as in the beginning of '2001: A Space Oddyssey,' to the Star Trek universe."

Many people in on the lawn murmured their agreement.

"We need to quit fearing the false safety of everything-must-be-as-I-say and instead embrace the creativity of difference!"

More people cheered.

"Though death is now greatly diminished, itself, we need to realize that the problems we face in the world, today, will only be solved by embracing new ideas, which will come from diversity in thought."

The whole crowd below cheered their support.

"Our immigrants from other countries—or planets."

She smiled at Lori and waited for a second for laughter and applause to die down.

"Our cultural exchange with other cultures around the globe—and planets, if more come."

She smiled through more response from the audience.

"Our growing awareness of diversity among us—must all be a part of who we are now becoming, lest we fail to rise to the occasion, lest we fail to meet new challenges with success. Lest we fail to solve our new problems, together, as a civilized society—"

People began to clap and cheer.

Cadence spoke louder, to be heard.

"—valuing each and every person, no matter how they may choose to live— Come here," Cadence said to Hanah and Cory. They moved closer to her and stood on Cadence's other side. Cadence wrapped her arms around all four of them. "No matter who they love— Come here, Colonel. He stood closer to her, beside Hanah, and reached over to hold her hand.

Cadence noticed and smiled. "No Matter where they come from. No matter who they are!"

Cadence held Marie's hand in one hand and Hanah's in another, and raised them all in salute to America.

Smiles were all around. Hanah cried.

Wood stared at Hanah.

Lori clapped.

When the cheering died down some, Cadence continued.

"So you think we can do that? Can we begin to move into a Star Trek age?"

The crowd affirmed her loudly.

Cadence nodded.

"Good. I agree completely.

"And we have already begun that Trek to the Stars!"

The crowd screamed its affirmative.

"Because— Well, frankly, Lori put it in our hands."

Cadence smiled at Lori.

The crowd laughed with Cadence.

"I mean, really, it's just the way to go. We're going to live longer, we've always had a need to explore the galaxy—"

The crowd cheered her some more.

"—we feel as well the need to have children, we have the need for more natural resources, so—naturally—scientists are already working on plans to develop space stations, the moon, and Mars—"

Cadence was shouting over cheers from the crowd at this point. Without the aid of her microphones, there would have been no way for the press to pick up her words.

"—we're developing realistic ways to begin to slowly terraform the planet somewhat, but to also begin colonization of Mars—all of this beginning as of last week with NASA, SpaceX and others—and with international coorperation from other countries around the globe!"

It took quite a while for the crowd to settle down, but when they did, Cadence set a softer tone.

"Which brings me back to Marie, here."

Cadence put her arm around Marie, who put her arm around Cadence's waist.

"What is your relationship to Lori," Cadence asked Marie.

"She's my mom."

"But you were born where?"

"Well, Kansas, the first time," Marie said.

"So you're not Ahleth?"

Marie shook her head. "Well, partly."

Cadence turned back to the people.

"In a spirit of acceptance and understanding of diversity, with the realization this is only our first year of the Star Trek age—Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations—"

The crowd's exuberance was infectious.

"Let me share that Marie is the result of Lori's Research and Development, as it were. The same need—Lori's hatred of death—in losing her husband, John, that prompted her to give us the transmuters, also moved her to develop Marie.

"Marie was Lori and John's dog, an English Springer Spaniel, three months ago. Aging, on her last legs, as it were. And Lori helped her evolve into the real—genuine—human being you see here with us today."

The crowd murmured and cheered at the same time. It was chaos in response.

"Right?" Cadence asked Marie.

Marie nodded. "That's right."

"I mention all this for a reason," Cadence said to the gathering. "Together," she indicated everyone, "we've been growing accustomed to working with transmuters to rejuvenate, but with this R&D, from Lori, we're learning we can also use them to cure or repair genetic issues for those who are interested from simpler things such as color blindness, to major issues such as muscular dystrophy, haemophilia, Tay-Sachs disease, sickle-cell disease, Down Syndrome—"

The crowd below was applauding. Some were crying.

"—because, apparently, transmuters can be used to re-design someone on a genetic level through sampling and extrapolation—"

"A monster?" someone heckler below yelled.

Cadence shook her head. "No. It determine's a healthy gene sequence for you, works with you on the outcome, pictures it for you, etc., and then if you agree, it makes that for you.

"This is similar to what was done for Professor Hawking, when the machine not only repaired him, made him as 20 again, but it also went into his brain and actually cured his A.L.S."

The crowd below loudly murmured their agreement.

A healthy, 20-year-old Mel paced the floor and waited for his friend to exit the "T-room," as it was being called: the room within which the transmuter was housed, the room where people changed.

A television monitor on the wall played the President's public address. "And lastly," Cadence continued, "for today, I want to express my sincere admiration to everyone for keeping their calm through these major changes. Together, if we use our heads, together, if we think, we can survive and achieve anything." Cadence put her arms back and wide, to embrace everyone on the balcony. "In this, ladies and gentlemen, we Trek together."

The crowd on T.V. cheered, and the feed watched as the group on the balcony went back inside.

"How long?" Mel asked a tech behind a desk.

"It's only been ten minutes," the man said, smiling.

"How long does it usually take?" Mel asked.

The tech shook his head. "Maybe ten or fifteen minutes."

"Is everybody antsy like this?" Mel asked.

The tech smiled a bit and nodded. "Pretty much."

The door opened and a man and a woman exited.

Mel looked past them into the T-room. "Nick?"

"Nicki," the 20-year-old woman said, looking at Mel.

"Nick? What the hell?" Mel gawked at her. "You're a girl?"

"What the hell," Nicki said.

"But you're a guy!"

"Really?" Nicki dropped her robe.

### CHAPTER

### 16

A 20-year-old Bernie Katz walked with Lori through one of their "manufacturing" facilities, where transmuters were making transmuters. Robotic arms worked with cranes to move equipment. People supervised and adjusted.

"We've made 106,610 transmiuters so far, and counting," Bernie said, "rounded off to the nearest ten, because they're making them all the time. We have sixteen manufacturing facilities all over the world, and quite a few other companies have gotten their own variations online, beginning to share the load. I mean, there are nearly 8 billion people in the world."

"Have any of the other companies expanded on our design, yet? Doing things with transmuters we tried to limit?"

Bernie shook his head. "Nope. It's the same product. No one's found a way around you, yet."

"It's not that I don't want them to scoop us, but as liberal as I am with the use of this thing, recently, even I don't want them to get the whole thing. Not too fast."

"I agree. What else will it do?"

"You've done very well," Lori said to him, ending that line of discussion. "And you, too," she said to Margaret behind them.

"WE have done very well," Bernie said. He stopped walking. "I want you to know, you saved my wife's life, and also mine, to the extent I'm young again."

Lori nodded.

"You've done so much good. Alien from outer space—God, who would have thought. And you're as human as the rest of us."

"Life is life," Lori said. "I was in that form before; I'm in this form now—"

"We're all trans," Bernie said.

Lori continued. "—I live, I think, feel. This planet is suited to this form."

"What did you used to look like?" Bernie asked.

"Not something you'd care to see."

"Well," Bernie said, "I don't even care. Whatever it is, you were one of them, and I can't believe there's anything bad about it."

"I have to go, you guys," Lori said to them. "Gadin is coming over, taking Marie out on her first date, and I'm as nervous as a cat on a hot tin roof."

Bernie made hand motions for things all mixed up. "She's 20, but she's blended with you, and you're 20,000, human for 12,000. She used to be canine, which she says feels like a childhood long ago, and this is her first date."

"I know," Lori said. "What would we he done without a hundred and fifty years of science fiction?"

"Did you guys," Bernie made a motion toward her to indicate her whole person, "do some of that scifi to prep us?"

Lori rolled her eyes.

"See you later," she said, then turning to Margaret behind. "Bye, love."

Marie scurried around her room getting ready.

Lori stood in the doorway, watching her.

"How does this look?" Marie asked Lori.

"Fine," Lori said.

"Or this?"

"Fine."

"Aren't you going to help me?" Marie asked.

"Lwaxana," Lori said to the air. "Do you want to explain it to her?"

"Gadin will not care what you wear," Lwaxana said.

"But some look better than others!" Marie insisted. "This one," she pulled a slinky dress out of the closet, "accents my legs. This one," she pulled out another, "accents my waist—"

"Gadin is not that superficial," Lwaxana said.

"Thank you, Lwaxana. And you shouldn't be, either," Lori said to Marie. She stepped toward Marie to help, but stopped herself, seeing the wisdom of inaction. Let her decide for herself.

"You've got some of me in you," Lori said. "You know the answer to this."

"The answer is," Marie said slowly, "that a look from me into his eyes will mean more than anything else."

Lori nodded.

"I can't nod, as I don't have a head," Lwaxana said. "But consider me nodding, too."

Lori nodded again.

"Where are you two going?" Lori asked.

"I don't know. He said something about a seaside restaurant in Santa Barbara, maybe. I don't know what all."

"Be sure and use condiments," Lwaxana said.

Lori cracke a smile at that joke.

"I think it's going to be a little chilly tonight on the beach."

"Oh, he'll like that," Lwaxana said.

"Why?" Marie asked.

"Because your nipples will—" Lwaxana said.

Lori laughed at Lwaxana.

"You think I don't know because I'm new?" Marie asked.

"You think I don't know because I'm a machine?" Lwaxana said playfully.

"You think I don't know because I was spayed?"

"You think I don't—"

Lori sat on Marie's bed. Her smile was warm. "Come here," she said to Marie.

Marie did, and Lori gave her a big hug. "You're one of my favorite girls, you know that?"

"You always used to say that to me," Marie said remembering.

"That's because we also had a cat, and she was a girl, too. But what I just meant was, 'I love you.'"

"I know. I alwaiys did!" Marie hugged Lori again and kissed her on the ear.

"I'm going with the sexy leg dress, cut a little low up top and a little high down below."

"She's being eager," Lwaxana said.

"That's true," Marie said. She stipped off her jeans and top to put on the dress. "I've got some of your memories," she said to Lori, "and I was spayed, but I'm me, now, and memories are not as good as the real thing."

"It's your first time," Lori said. "Take it slow and savor it."

"This," Marie said, "has been maranading for a long time."

"You're young—"

"I'm all grown up, now, Mom!"

"It's true, Lori," Lwaxana said.

"Gadin is now entering through the main gate of the compound and is proceeding toward the house."

"Let him in when he gets here?" Lori asked Lwaxana.

"Sure."

"We'll meet him in the family room."

Adrien's Gulfstream jet flew west over the Atlantic at flight level three four oh, 34,000 feet. A private flight attendant brought him a drink, a vegetable and fruit puree.

"I added a little more strawberry, this time, Mr. Archambeau."

Adrien tasted it. "Lovely, Carmen. Thank you."

"Anything else?" she asked.

"Is Salvaor up in Charleston, yet?"

"Yes, sir," Carmen said. "He's been there for about an hour." She reached into a bag in another seat and withdrew Adrien's MacBook Pro. "Wifi is up, as always."

Gadin and Marie got out of his Ford Focus, at the Boathouse restaurant at Hendry's Beach, Santa Barbara. The sun was still a couple of hours from setting, and people were milling about in the pleasant evening.

"We can go in in a minute," Gadin suggested. "It's awfully nice out here this evening."

"Yes—"

They walked toward the beach, fifty yards to the south.

"You nervous to be here?" Gadin asked.

Marie reached over and took his hand in hers.

"I'm nervous, too."

"But you're 33?"

"I'm only about 30 on the outside, now, 20 on the inside. I did the machine once when I was testing it. When we were making new ones."

"Oh. I didn't even notice your T."

"But I'm a computer science nerd from Stanford, so that right there means I'm probably a virgin."

"At 33?"

Gadin laughed at her.

They rounded some outside tables and chairs to stroll on the sand. It was mushy beneath their feet, through their shoes.

"I'm not a virgin," he said. "But I thought for a long time I would be. Even someone like me gets lucky sometimes."

"Someone like you? There's nothing wrong with you."

"I agree," Gadin said. "It's just that I'm not good at the kinds of things that woo women. I'm not flashy, macho. I don't know what to say half the time."

"You're doing fine," Marie said. "I'm the newbie, here."

"You remember having sex how many thousands of times?"

"You know what I mean. Those aren't my memories."

"How do you know you're into men?"

Marie looked at him as if surprised. "Are you a man?"

"Barely," he said.

Marie laughed at him. "It's hard to tell, these days. I mean Mom is a woman, but she's also male down here—"

"I know," Gadin said in agreement. "It's a whole new world. So who you are and who you're into, are simply things that can change. No longer do we need to work with what we have; now, we can become what we want to be, for the most part. The sciences change the world."

"Yes," Marie said. "But so do the arts. Look at what Shakespeare did to millions of us? Billions? I was there— Momma was there at the time. She doesn't think Shakespeare was just one person. And Star Trek, even Star Wars— Look at how stories we've told over the millennia have changed the direction of scientific inquiry?"

"You ought to know," Gadin said.

"I'm not Mom."

"Yeah, but you know. It's in your head."

"True."

They stopped to stare at the sun approaching the hills above the beach to the west. There were boats scattered in the ocean south and southwest of them.

"Are you into men?" Gadin asked her. "How do you know?"

"How do you know you're into women?" She asked him, leaning up to kiss him warmly on the mouth.

Gadin kissed her back, but put his hands on her shoulders to move her back a bit. "Not here," he said to her.

"Why?"

"There are people about."

"So?"

"You don't understand that part, maybe?"

Gadin took her hand and lead her back toward the restaurant. He explained it to her clinically, with his charming accent. "If you get me going here, I could get an erection and be embarrassed in front of the other people."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry," she said. "So I can kiss you when we get back to the car?"

Gadin glanced at his own crotch. "Oh, God," he said. They broke into a run for the car.

### CHAPTER

### 17

"This is World Network News," the young lady said. "I'm Janet Heinz."

The television studio in New York was busy with people quietly moving behind the cameras. Lights flooded the stage, and a young woman sat behind a desk on camera. The image of Times Square was visible through the windows behind her.

It appeared as if the studio was on the third floor of a building.

"Since Lorelai Faraday revealed herself to us three months and one week ago, and gave copies of her transmuter to the world, well over 200,000,000 people across the world have been through a transmuter, that's almost 3% of the world's population, starting with the sick and elderly, and key personnel working to promote the system. The remarkable machines—as you can see by looking at me—have been working steadily, without interruption, as described by Dr. Henry Gonzalez, professor at M.I.T. in physics."

The scene cut to Dr. Gonzalez in a book-lined office. "We'll be studying it for centuries, at this rate—which, to my delight, I may be able to do along with everyone else. The redundancy is worthy. The reliability of the system is amazing. And if these units were used in Ahleth societies, it is easy to see why they'd put so much into them. And on expeditions, such as came here to Earth, as Lori says, over the last hundred thousand years, they would be the main source of healthcare and longevity. You can cure just about anything with them, going back to a healthy, 20-year-old template."

The scene cut back to Janet Heinz. "Yet, it is that longevity which has sparked debate around the planet. At the International Symposium on Planetary Resources, last week in Zurich, Switzerland, scientists and world leaders were discussing ways of making sure our new longevity doesn't, itself, cause its own problems.

The scene cut to soundbites from several attendees at the Symposium.

"World birth rate continues because of pregnancies that were already in event," one man said. "We think pregnancies around the globe have dramatically reduced in some areas—"

"Yes," a man beside him said. "

"—yet," the man continued, "in some places, they continue as people do not seem to be willing to express the fundamental restraint necessary to curtail the need to have children."

"That's because it's primal," said the second man. "People with less sophisticated thought processes have more difficulty separating today's urges from tomorrow's needs."

"Crude," said a third, joining the camera.

"Maybe crude, but realistic," said the first.

The feed but back to Janet Heinz.

"Yet, the United Nations reports overall favorable reactions around the globe. There have been some military conflicts, but not as many as I'd thought. Riots have broken out over this issue, but they've been put down—not so much by outsiders intruding, but by members of their own ranks who assert reason to them."

The feed cut to a group of picketers in front of the White House, Washington, D.C.

"How can they tell my husband and me not to have children!"

"It's just temporary until we can expand into space, learn to make replicators—which the transmuters won't do."

"You can't tell me not to have children!"

A calm lady spoke to her, her hand motions indicating both of them. "We can all live, if we take it slowly, is all. If our life-span is to become thousands of years, then waiting a hundred years to have children is not so much—so that your parents don't die. So that your husband doesn't die. So that you don't die. So that current children don't die."

"But—it's just children. They won't use much!"

"I guess the question is," someone else asked, "are we smart enough, at this time in our evolution, to survive if given the chance?"

The lady looked as if she was considering what she'd been told.

The feed cut back to Janet in the studio.

"And the question of should we die is also being argued around the globe."

The feed cut to people in the streets of a middle-eastern city. "God has made us all so we die!"

"But god also made it so we get sick and need health care."

"If God wants to take my child, then that is to his glory!"

"You can refuse to use a transmuter. But what if someone else wants to survive!"

"They kill my children who aren't even born yet!"

The feed cut to people in the sanctuary of a church in south Florida. The pastor addressed the congregation. "God made us all. But God also made it possible for us to drink when we are thirsty, to eat when we are hungry, to care for the sick and dying. That is what we must do as compassionate Christians. That is what we can do with transmuters."

The feed cut to a Jewish synagogue. The Rabbi addressed the congregation. "Kids are the main focus of Judaism?" she said. "So we wait a hundred years and then have them. It's not stopping; it's just a delay while we learn. You want to die? Or you want to adjust? I vote we adjust. Jews have always survived by adjusting, and we do it again now. And, hey! To stay young? Have sex for a few more thousand years?" Her smile brought happy laughter from everyone.

Cut to Janet Heinz. "And then there are these."

Cut to two men at a Star Trek convention:

"So how fast are we going?" one of them asked a reporter with a camera on them.

"Dude," his friend said beside him. "We spin on this planet at a thousand miles an hour."

"And orbit the sun at 66,000 miles per hour," said the first.

"43,000 miles per hour toward Vega."

The reporter looked confused.

"And orbit the Milky Way at 483,000 miles per hour. Probably a black hole at the center."

"Dark matter, too," said the first, explaining to the reporter. "Matter without the light on."

"And we're moving at 1,300,000 miles per hour—that's one point three million—through the Cosmic Background Radiation toward the Great Attractor."

The reporter looked confused.

"Wow, man," the 2nd man said. "That's an area of space by Leo or Virgo."

"So what is there?" asked the worried reporter.

"Probably the Borg."

His friend smiled at him.

"So what—?" The reporter rephrased. "How does that relate to transmuters?"

"Dude: It means we're due for an oil change."

The feed cut back to the anchor, Janet Heinz, as she reached up to her ear to touch her earbud.

Her expression changed slightly, became serious.

"Breaking News" ran across the bottom of the screen.

### CHAPTER

### 18

"A transmuter killed someone?" Janet Heinz addressed the camera, touching her ear bud. "Ladies and gentlemen, this just in. It appears there's a problem with the Holcomb transmuter in Atlanta. We can go—are we ready?" she asked someone in the studio. She nodded. "We can go direct to one of our affiliates on the scene with more."

The feed cut to a mob outside an office building in Atlanta. The reporter was talking to an official of the local transmuter. People behind were shouting at each other.

"Mr. Whistle. We're live, now. You're the manager of this trans facility in Atlanta?"

He nodded.

"Can you tell us what happened?" The reporter put her microphone in front of him.

Mr. Whistle looked upset. "At 4:03 this afternoon, a transmutation went wrong." He stopped.

"What happened?" the reporter prompted.

"Someone, a lady, came in. Elderly. She wanted a simple rejuvenation, back to 20 all over. No problem. We do those all the time. But this time— I don't know. Something went wrong."

He stopped again, a worried look on his face.

"What?" the reporter prompted.

Mr. Whistle's face hardened. "We had an accident. Something was wrong. We don't know what, yet."

"Is she alright?" the reporter asked.

Mr. Whistle shook his head. "I'm afraid we lost her. The transmutation was in process, but it didn't come out right. She phased, but wrong, and it couldn't survive."

The crowd behind them enraged.

"Is it broken?"

"Sabotage?"

"Terrorism?"

"We should never have used them!"

"We're investigating," Mr. Whistle said. "We'll let you know when we find out more."

The feed cut back to the Janet in the studio in New York.

"World Network News has also learned that there are two other facilities where a fatality has occurred, all within the last few minutes."

She touched her ear.

"And now we have just received a report that the White House has put a halt on all transmuter use in the United States, this coming from the Science Advisor to the President, Dr. Ella Gomez, and—"

Janet looked unfocused for a second, then refocused on the camera.

"We've just received word that countries around the globe are putting a stop to all use of the transmuters while we try to determine the nature of the problem. Not just what machines might fail, but why.

"So this just in, ladies and gentlemen, there has been an accident at three of the transmuters in the United States, with the cause unknown, and so for now, the White House has issued a blanket ban on the use of all machines until we determine the cause—"

"Lwaxana?" Lori asked the dash in her Jeep Grand Cherokee, rolling over a hill on her estate. "What's this?"

"There appears to be a malfunction of six of the transmuters," Lwaxana said in her efficient way. "Three in the U.S., one in England, one in India, and one in China. All within the last few minutes."

"Status!" Lori said.

"Activity at all transmuters has been halted while authorities investigate."

Lori turned her Jeep toward the house and hit the gas. The Jeep rolled over a small hill so fast it nearly left the ground. "Can you gather information? I'm on my way."

Lori burst through the front door of her home with her lab manager on her heels, yelling his concern at her.

"I don't know what it is. It's nothing we've done. We've checked everything from this end all over, and we find nothing!"

"Give me a few minutes," Lori said to him. "Back to the lab, please."

The manager left without bothering her more.

Lori closed the door.

"Lwaxana. Status of the house."

"We are the only ones here."

"Secure the house."

Doors clicked.

"Talk to me."

"I've been in communication with every single transmuter that we have issued. We have far mour out there than any other manufacturer, because we were the first. I cannot speak with ones of different manufacture, but I've learned through the news that one of French manufacture has malfunctioned. WNN reports virtually all on the planet have been shut down. Of ours, there are now seven that have malfunctioned, the additional one belonging to the city of Denver."

"Cause. Summarize," Lori said.

"I cannot be sure."

"That's unlike you, Lwaxana."

"The statement is accurate. The problem is that in speaking with them, they appear to be slightly different units."

Lori's private phone rang.

She looked at it. It was Ella Gomez. Lori answered it. "I'm on it," she said.

"The President is needing to make an announcement. What should she say?"

"That we're working on it. I'm talking with Lwaxana as we speak."

"Five minutes?" Ella asked.

"I'll call you back." Lori hung up her phone. "Lwaxana?"

"The machines appear to be operating properly at this time, yet I detected an anomaly in all seven, and in 682 other transmuters."

"A virus? Don't make me pull teeth here, please."

"I don't sense it as a virus. I do sense an error."

"What if they shut down the 689 transmuters. Will that fix this problem?"

"They could. We can identify them. On your phone is a list, now. But all are potentially unsafe while we determine what is wrong."

"Sec." Lori worked her phone and emailed the list to Ella, called Ella on the phone.

"I got it," Ella said.

"We have 689 that we've found problems in, Ella. We need to shut them down now, and—frankly, we may want to consider halting all transmutations, maybe except in the most dire need to save life, while we sort this out. It's something in the systems. We need to learn what it is."

"Yes," Ella said. "I understand. The risk is real, but if we shut all ones off you listed, the risk is minimal—maybe usable for the most severe cases, for a while, but not the general populace. For now."

At their R&D facility outside Charleston, Salvador turned in his chair, away from his six consoles, to greet his husband, Adrien. "It's so good to have you."

Adrien gave him a quick peck on the lips. "Everything on schedule?"

"Mostly" Salvador said.

Gadin's phone did not ring.

Neither did Marie's.

They were both turned off.

Figures rustled beneath the sheets.

"Oh!" Marie said. "Uh!"

"Am I hurting you?" Gadin asked.

"Gadin!" She gripped his back.

The President of the United States stood at her podium in the Press Room. "Fellow Americans—"

"Yes, Sir!" The young man acknowledged his orders.

"Get it in gear, Mister," said the apparent 20-year-old, Harold Trim, Director of the F.B.I.

The young man left.

Harold picked up his phone and pressed an icon for Eugene Liebner, Director of the N.S.A.

"Eugene?"

"Yes, Harold. I got your list. We're looking into it."

"Eugene, these devices may all come from a mother device on her ship. She won't tell us where it is, but if it's emitting any signals, there is nothing better to track it down than the N.S.A."

An apparent 20-year-old Eugene, four star Air Force general, sat at his desk high in the black "Cube," headquarters for the National Security Agency, Fort Meade, Maryland. The view of military barracks were visible out his window to the east. To the south was the N.S.A.'s huge parking lot. To the north, there was nothing but a sea of trees.

They had 'em everywhere in Maryland.

"We're already on it. We've been interested since she went public."

### CHAPTER

### 19

In the White House, Ella closed her laptop. Her grimace showed her feelings.

She picked up her cell phone.

Lori answered her phone. "Yes?"

"Lori, a lot of people will be interested in solving this problem. "

Lori nodded to her empty living room. "I figured. I'm already on it."

"I want to help." Ella paused only for a second. "I may not be the brightest, but I'm 2nd."

Lori heard Ella's secret message. She wanted to ask for verification, but Ella had also just reminded her of what could well be the N.S.A. on her. Everything, anything, could be tracked, and if the N.S.A. were trying to dig into this, they'd certainly be monitoring her calls, every signal.

While her mind raced, Lori continued Ella's misdirection, for any supercomputer at the N.S.A. that might be listening. "Well, homework, Ella. Jesus, you only have two doctorates. What do you expect?" She confirmed her misdirection for Ella: "If you'd studied you could have a real job."

"Do you have any doctorates?" Ella asked.

Continuing with the misdirection, Lori thought, as it was irrelevant.

"Honoris causa, maybe?"

"Such as it is," Ella said. "Listen. You never know. I might be helpful. Come to my office?"

Thousands of protesters clogged the street in front of the White House, waving signs, shouting.

Lori walked at a rapid clip into the White House, with Colonel Wood on her heels, and turned to walk toward Ella's office.

"They didn't riot when you gave them the transmuters," Colonel Wood nodded to himself, as they walked, "but they did when they broke."

A passing Secret Service man recognized her and gave her a slight nod.

"Hello," Lori said, as if her visit was routine.

"Well, that's good as far as it goes," Lori said. "They could have rioted both times."

Lori leaned in to whisper into Wood's ear. "Hanah may be around here, somewhere."

Wood smiled at her. "But I'm busy at the moment."

"She blew your socks off, didn't she?"

"Twice," Wood said.

Lori smiled at him.

Lori knocked on Ella's office door.

"Come in," Ella said from within.

Lori and Wood both entered. Wood closed the door behind them.

Ella looked at Lori.

Lori looked at Ella.

"This office is not bugged," Ella said.

"Sure?" Lori asked.

"I'm better than the N.S.A."

"Is Wood okay?" Lori asked Ella.

Wood looked at them both. "You should ask Hanah."

Both ladies cracked a smile, but they didn't change their tack.

"All things considered, Wood should be okay."

"I'm not trans, yet," Wood said.

Ella shrugged.

"What is this veiled conversation between you two?" Wood asked.

"It's a one-way street," Lori said to Ella.

"For now," Ella said.

Wood's face showed cynical acceptance of insiders talking about something of which he knew nothing.

"We just torturing the poor man, now?" Lori asked.

Ella nodded. "An honored tradition."

"If you are 2nd," Lori said, without explanation to the befuddled Wood, "then why come out to me?"

"Everybody's coming out," Wood said. "Hell, I'm into Hanah."

"You're going to need my transportation," Ella said to Lori. "I could go without you, but it's your gig, and you'd question me."

"I think we may, indeed, need to go there," Lori asked Ella. "Is it still in the same place?"

Ella nodded.

"Is your transportation bugged?" Lori asked.

"No, but yours is," Ella said.

Wood looked astonished. "Lori's plane? I've checked it out myself."

"N.S.A. is better," Ella said. "No offense."

Wood looked disgusted.

"Maybe I'm working with them?" Wood said.

Ella shook her head. "No. You're not."

"How do you know?" Wood asked Ella.

"Because I've got you bugged."

"You look like Alfre Woodard." Wood plopped down in a chair.

"I like that look," Ella said to Wood.

Wood smiled at her. "Blow up the damn ship, Jean-luc!"

"Good movie," Ella said. To Wood, then turned to Lori. "Maybe he could be helpful."

"He could be, actually," Lori said. "Cadence's protection order seems genuine."

"That, it is," Ella said.

"So what's the secret between you two?" Wood asked.

Lori looked at Ella.

Ella looked at Wood. "I'm Ahleth."

Wood's eyes widened. "I knew there would be more."

"How do I know you really are?" Lori asked Ella.

Ella looked at Colonel Wood. "I'm her X.O., as it were, above her on the ship—or was at one time—but not the lead. And," Ella's gaze returned to Lori, "If she remembers, we landed on a plain, but after a time, we set up shop in a cave, we made on a rise, and built on top of it, to keep our transmuters close, and bring people to us."

Lori relaxed. "So where is your transmuter?"

"I just call it a 'muter,' for short."

"You were a a gal at first, then a guy, then a gal, again, for the longest time, I remember," Lori said.

Ella nodded.

"You still intersex?" Wood asked.

Ella shook her head. "I'm living stealth, in government, and if I kept my penis, I'd be found out with it, which could have interfered with my aspirations, here. I'm too close to the President, and politically, it might be best if I'm not seen as transpecial for now." She pronounced it "Trans-SPEESH-al," as per Lori's televised conference. "Some people may fear Aliens are influencing the government, which I'm not. Soon, it should be okay, though. We're almost there."

"So, for now, you're just female?" Lori akked.

Ella nodded. "I'll get it back later, mix like a guy, I guess."

"Is Cory Peck available to join us?" Ella asked.

"I think he's a little distracted, right now," Lori said.

At the Peck homestead in Los Angeles, bed sheets moved with the motion of two people beneath.

Wood stood in Ella's office, self-satisfied. "I'm glad I wasn't born during a boring century."

A secretary announced them, and the three of them walked into the Oval Office, led by Ella.

Cadence was sitting behind her Resolute Desk, talking with Doreen Washington, the Press Secretary. "So schedule Caltech for me in about thirty minutes?"

"Yes, Madam President."

Doreen exited while nodding to the three who entered.

"Ella, Lori, Colonel Wood," Cadence said, rising to greet them in the middle of the room. "Good to see you."

"Madam President," Ella said. "I've got a little more info for you."

### CHAPTER

### 20

"Are you ready?" the stage director asked.

"Ready," Nicki said as Sassy Britches, her handle in the Old West Shooting organization. She stood at the ready with her hands in a raised position, as if someone had the drop on her. She was wearing a single rig, one holster with one six-gun. Her two rifles were staged in front of her.

The stage director shouted, "Go!"

Nicki began her stage as directed with the shout, "Stop 'em! They're stealing the horses!" She rapidly pulled out her .45 revolver and, using both hands, fired as she walked sidewys at a round target that was moving right to left on a track.

She missed three of her five shots before reloading her revolver as quickly as she could on the clock.

"Nick! Whaddya missing for? You're a good shot!" someone behind her yelled.

"Was a good shot," someone else yelled.

"These things are heavy," Nicki said. "Not like before."

Lourdes and Jim Boone, from a Missouri chapter, stood behind Nicki in the shoot all decked out in their own cowgirl/cowboy gear.

Lourdes spoke up for her. "Leave her alone, guys!"

"Her hands are smaller," Jim said. "Take your time, Sexy Britches."

Nicki gave him a dirty look.

Jim smiled at her, "I'm sorry, but it's true."

Jim dropped his smile when he caught Lourdes' glare.

"Keep your hands on your wife," Nicki said to Jim in fun.

She didn't place any shots with this round on the target and grabbed her rifle—attempting to fire it at a more distant target on the move from left to right while she walked sideways from left to righ with it.

She landed six of her ten shots on target, missing four.

The moving target stopped its run, and, still on the clock, Nicki grabbed her 2nd rifle—and dropped it.

"Uh!" she gasped in desperation. "Everything's different."

"Pick it up, Sexy Britches," the director said.

"Eat me," Nicki said.

"You wanted to be a woman, so now you are," Mel said in the group standing around watching, his grin large on his face.

"I only meant it for a while," Nicki said to them all. "I was just seeing. I didn't know the," she looked around at people so she wouldn't make a mistake, "gosh-darn transmuters would break and leave me stuck here."

"Nicki, I'm trans, and it's a beautiful place to get stuck," Lourdes said.

"You?" Nicki asked.

Jim nodded.

"I just wanted to see what it was like. I didn't want to be a female—"

"You gonna shoot, Sexy Britches?" someone said. "You're holding up the stage."

Nicki gave up and began to gather her firearms.

Lourdes walked with her to her cart.

The stage director shrugged his shoulders at the score keeper. "Can't score this one," he said. "She gets a hundred for walking away."

"You had sex yet, Nick?" someone else said.

Nicki shook her head.

"It's only been a little while," Mel said.

"You have a female's junk down there?" someone asked.

Lourdes turned on them: "Stop it, you guys! People dumped on me like that for years. It hurts people!"

Mel moved inbetween them and the group. "Leave her alone, guys. She's had enough."

Nicki walked away, leaving her two rifles and her gun cart behind.

The bathroom monitor at the movies was getting busy, sorting out who can go to what bathroom. "You can go here," he said to one apparent woman. "You can go there," he said to a guy."

Then a group came.

"You there, you there, you, here, you there—"

Someone indistinct said to him, "What the f—"

Lori dialed her phone, held her phone in her left hand to her ear.

Cori and Estella lay in their bed, breathing hard.

Cory's phone rang.

"Answer the phone, Cori," Estella said. "Please!"

"Hell no," he said, turning back to her.

"Go get her, Mel," Jim said.

"Thanks, you two." Mel grabbed Nicki's gun cart and headed after her pulling his as well.

"Nicki! Wait a second. I got two carts here! Your guns!"

Nicki slowed for him, waited just before the huge chuck wagon bar-b-que at the food court.

Mel caught up to her, and Nicki tried to take her own gun cart, but Mel wouldn't let her. "I got it. You get us some food?"

"Alright," Nicki said. "What do you want?"

"Mel sat their carts by a table and told her, "I'll stay with the gun carts. I don't care what food. Anything that's a plate of something: hamburger, whatever else they're doing."

Nicki went to get it and brought their two plates and two lemon aids, on a tray, back to their table.

She sat down by him to chow down.

Neither one of them said anything.

Finally, after a particularly large bite, Mel said, "You know, there's a dance tomorrow night in the big tent."

Nicki slammed her burger down on her plate and turned on him. "I," she said hotly, "am your old buddy Nick, alright? And I'm not happy with this." She indicated herself.

"You're a man?" Mel asked.

"Well, I don't know."

Mel smiled at her, that old smile he always used when he knew something. He never stopped chewing his hamburger, but pointed to her head. "Up here?"

"Why not!?" Nicki answerd. "It's only been a day. Guys! That's all you wanna do is have sex?"

"WE," Mel exaggerated his tone, "have dicks, and if you remember YES, they like that sort of thing. And breasts, and curvy lines—which you have, now, by the way. And I'm imagining other good things you have. You look better 'n Charlize Theron—and her name sounds almost like Charlie, so—"

Nicki ignored her lunch. "We're old friends since Adam. You want to date me?"

Mel took another bite and talked through it. "Why not? I like girls, and you're a girl now. We're 20 years old—"

Nicki sat back in her chair and thought.

Mel swallowed hard and took a drink of lemon aid to wash out his mouth, sat it down, then leaned in on Nicki a little, his face right in front of hers.

Nicki leaned back but didn't move otherwise.

Mel looked at her face.

Nicki blushed a little, moved a lock of hair aside.

"Do you feel it, Nicki? Be honest with me—with yourself. I'm this close. You responding to me?"

Two guys from the stage they were at walked by and teased them. "Ooooooo-hooooo! Lookie that!"

Mel gave them each the bird while he continued to look at Nicki. He didn't move away. "It's an adjustment for me, too."

Mel put his right hand on her left shoulder and kissed her—not a lingering kiss, but not a quick peck, either.

Nicki stiffened in reaction.

Mel sat back up and took another bite of his burger.

"Horny Toad is horny!" one of his teasers said from the chuck wagon line.

Mel gave them his finger again, which only engendered more teasing.

"Don't let them tease us that way, Nicki," Mel said to her.

Nicki sat at the table with him, red faced, not talking, not even responding. Her hands went to her face. She glanced down at herself, then to Mel, then away.

Mel noticed and sat his hamburger down, looked at her some more: her face, her glassy eyes, her breath.

Nicki moved in her chair some, but largely she was—

"You're blown, Nicki," he said. "I know you're blown."

"I—" Nicki hid her face in her hands, but looked at Mel through her fingers.

Mel leaned in again to her.

"I—" Nicki paused. "I—never—"

Mel leaned in to kiss her again on the lips. This time, he held it longer.

Lourdes and Jim walked by and smiled.

Nicki was unable to move. She felt his lips on hers and noticed, after a few seconds, she began to move her lips against his and leaned toward him—

Mel sat back up in his own chair and smiled at her, scooped up some beans with his plastic spoon. "Oh, yeah. You got it."

Nicki looked around as if to find an exit, but Mel took her by the hand. "I don't know what they did to you in that transmuter, but you're trans, now."

Nicki looked at his hand then back to his face.

"I had no idea," Nicki said.

Mel nodded at her. He patted her on the back. "You're a girl, now."

### CHAPTER

### 21

The Vice President of the United States, Oliver "Ollie" Best, stood in the shuttle and watched Ella work the controls.

The others stood around as well, as inertial dampers prevented the need for seat belts, and everyone was too keyed up to sit.

Lori watched Ella closely.

Wood, Hanah and Ollie looked over the ship and at the realistic depiction of the North Carolina fly by. Ella's instrumentation was like a holoprojector, "heads-up display"—HUD—only it was everywhere in a 180 degree arc before her. The pilot's view was 360, but it was arranged to appear in the forward 180 degrees so all could be seen while facing forward. Appalacian mountains flew by in a realistic image of the outside, and scores of lines, fluctuating arcs and data were superimposed ahead featuring information the pilot could use.

Though none of was actually necessary; the shuttle craft's A.I. did the flying.

"Oh, my God, Jesus!" Ollie said. "You're sure we're not going to be killed in this thing?"

Ella smiled at him. "Bessie knows what she's doing. She's got it up here." Ella tapped her head.

"Bessie?" Ollie said.

"My shuttle."

"This is a 'shuttle'?" Ollie asked.

Ella nodded. "It gets me from A to B."

Hanah asked. "And it's been below your back yard this whole time?"

"Since I've owned that house," Ella said. "Got to keep it somewhere, and the neighbors won't let me dig up their yard, so—"

Ella returned her gaze to her instruments.

"It's an actual flying saucer," Ollie said. "Shaped so terribly classic."

Ella nodded. "It slips through atmospheres better that way— It actually minimizes sonic booms, though it doesn't need to worry. Bessie?"

"Yes, Ella. How may I help you? I enjoy working with humans."

Ella's grin to Lori was tongue-in-cheek. "Well, I showed her the movie 2001, and she liked it. She's teasing.

"Bessie," Ella said. "Wanna take us up to LEO and show our new passengers?"

"Sure," Bessie said.

Without the slightest feeling of movement, the holographic view of the North Carolina countryside withdrew. The sky became black, and the blue marble sat before them.

"There are no sonic booms up here," Ella said.

"Good God, almighty!" Wood said.

Hanah's hands went to her face.

Lori smiled at them, nodded to herself.

Oliver stepped closer to the stunning 180 degree image covering the front half of their area. The East Coast of the United States was in a vertical line below them with the Chesapeake Bay just up and right, the coastline stretching down. There were some clouds out to sea. He looked at Ella, then Lori. Then back to Ella, put his hand to his heart. "Are we—?" He paused for a second and tried again. "Are we really in space? Or is this a simulation?"

Ella stepped back to allow Oliver to get closer to the display. "We're really in space. See this here?" Ella pointed to some numbers on the heads up display. "This is our altitude, at 198 statute miles high. I've got it set in statute, because I'm American, immersive. These numbers show us our speed, which—if you remember, was about 200 mph down by the surface, but we're stationary, now, so it's zero, in relation to the earth below, but it's really nearly 1000 mph as we're over the surface of a planet that's rotating about its axis."

"So we're not really in Low Earth Orbit," Wood said.

Ella shook her head. "I guess not. We're not orbiting. We're stationary. Things in orbit about the earth, here— See that?" She moved an equasion into view on the display that could be used to calculate their relative speeds.

"It's just a generic equasion to me," Ollie said. "I was an historian."

Ella laughed at him. "Math is good with me. I prefer that output. But most things in orbit down here in LEO are about 17,000 miles per hour."

"So the space station could hit us?" Wood asked.

"We're not at the right altitude for that," Ella said, "but yes, they could hit us if we were. Or any of thousands of bits of junk up here. That Chinese anti-satellite missile test in 2007 didn't help, really blew a lot of debris all around up here. Thousands of bits scattered. It was a real boner."

"How do I know I'm really in space?" Ollie asked.

"We are," Ella said.

"But how to I know?" Ollie asked.

"You could step outside, I guess." Ella said.

"I'm sorry, Ella, but I can't open the door just now," Bessie said imitating HAL of 2001.

Lori had been quiet but spoke up. "Have you considered using a shuttle to come up here and clean up some junk for us? Catch and remove debris?"

"We could—"

"Don't you have a shuttle, Lori?" Hanah asked.

Lori shook her head. "There are only two, and I didn't rate."

"We could," Ella continued, "But I hadn't revealed the existence of this craft until this morning with the President. Once we get through this transmuter crisis, and I get some things off my desk, I think maybe I should do it."

"You're Ahleth," Wood said. "Why do you need to work for a living? Aren't you fabulously wealthy? Can't you make whatever you need with a trasnsmuter?"

Ella smiled at him. "Yes, I'm wealthy, by your standards. But the reason I wanted my job as science advisor to the President is because I wanted to make a positive difference from within the system, and that remains, whether disclosed or not."

"But," Hanah asked, "If we remain here, relatively motionless, among debris that's scattered at 17,000 miles per hour, we might get hit."

"Always protective," Ella said. "True, except Bessie would see it coming, and we'd dodge it."

"You can't zap it out of existence?" Wood asked. "Or make it bounce off your shields?"

"We do have shields, but I think she'd just move us over a bit," Ella said.

"But we do have work to do," Lori said.

"True. We need to get the transmiuters back online." Ella glanced at Lori. "Now that they've been revealed. And the big man isn't going to like this."

Ella's shuttle descended from LEO in altitude toward Charleston, South Carolina, arked left and began to descend more slowly.

"You think your troops are on campus, yet?" Lori asked Wood.

Wood nodded. "As we speak. They're good. My father went there, and his father before him. We've been at it since 1842."

Soldiers formed a large circle on a lawn at the Citadel, with perhaps a hundred food radius. People were already beginning to gather at the display.

From overhead, a flying saucer descended into view and settled slowly in the center. No gear extended upon which the craft could rest; it just sat on it's curved underside, on the grass, with very little indentation.

Rapidly, more people gathered at the cadets perimeter.

A door slid to the side in the shuttle and all five occupants exited.

"Lori!" someone from a growing crowd yelled.

"Lori!" yelled someone else.

"Vice President Oliver Best!" The crowd stirred.

The new astronauts waved back.

The cadet in charge made his way toward them, greeting the Vice President, Lori, Ella, the colonel and Hanah.

Wood shook the cadet's hands with both of his. "Thank you for your excellent response. I know it was short notice."

"Any time, Sir," said the cadet. "And please say hello to your father for us."

"And that's Ella Gomez!" someone else yelled. "Wow!"

"But who's that with them?" Someone else.

"That's Hanah, Secret Service. I saw her on T.V."

"That's Wood, Lori's protection."

"What kind of craft is that?" someone else asked.

Oliver turned to address the crowd. "Hello everyone! Sorry for the impromptu nature of this call. I'd love to stay longer. Hokies are one of my favorite!"

The crowd cheered his informality and the mention of their favorite school.

"But," Oliver continued, "we're working hard to get the transmuters back online, and we just stopped by to pick up a passenger."

With a cadet escort, Adrien Archambeau made his way out of a building toward the shuttle.

### CHAPTER

### 22

Their shuttle lifted off the Citadel and rose into a very low earth orbit, then arced toward the Middle East. The Atlantic Ocean floated by beneath them on the large Blue Marble.

The six of them sat in a circle on Ella's shuttle, with Ella in the pilot's seat, though facing aft toward the group.

Oliver was leaning forward in his chair to gawk at Ellie's display, the large half-moon heads-up-display that covered the entire front portion of their space. "My God, we're in space again."

Ellie and Lori smiled at him.

"Yes," said Lori.

"How high this time?" Hanah asked.

Ellie looked at the display. "89.6 statute miles."

"God," Oliver couldn't remove his eyes from the screen.

"Keep an eye out for falling Russian satellites," Hanah said.

"Funny," Wood said, then looked at Adrien. "The Adrien Archambeau? Billionaire entrepreneur?"

Adrien nodded.

"Are you Ahleth?" Wood asked, turning to Lori, "Is he Ahleth? Easy to become a billionaire if you're from an advanced culture."

Adrien nodded. "Some of us are," he said, correcting Lori from her press conference, rolling his R only slightly. "Maybe 30 or 40."

Ellie noted, "Your French accent is fading.

"I adapt quickly," Adrien said.

"What?" Wood pressed. "Billionaires are aliens? Or aliens are billionaires?"

"Both," Adrien said. "Bill Gates, Jim Carry is.

Hanah laughed.

Adrien continued, "Jack Black, the actor. Cadence Jorgensen is. Steve Jobs is—"

"'Is'?" Hanah asked.

Adrien nodded. "Faked his death. We have had to, at times, but now Lori let the cat out of the bag, so no more on that."

"Zuckerberg?" Oliver saked.

Adrien shook his head. "Not that I know of? Ella?"

"I don't know, honestly," Ella said. "I lose track."

Adrien continued, "Elon Musk is. I'm still in touch with him."

"I should have expected that," Hanah said. "Real forward thinker."

"Love his Tesla cars," Lori said.

Adrien told Wood, "He was Nikola Tesla, before—"

"The Nikola Tesla?" Wood asked.

Adrien nodded. "He was an engineer for us on the ship. His name was Marden, I guess, as spoken in English. The problem wasn't thinking up good things to engineer, here on Earth. The problem was doing so within then current social and economic systems, working with what you have, and also pushing boundaries in a way people would accept. Sometimes huge enterprises are undertaken—not for their own result but to prepare people for the next one. Gene Roddenberry is—"

"'Is.'" Wood said. "Where is he now?"

Adrien smiled and continued, "I think you can see we're part of humanity, helping to advance us all—"

"You're Gene Roddenberry?" Oliver asked.

Adrien smiled and shook his head no. "It's be up to him to share, though. He's also kind of private."

"We're just letting it all hang out here today, aren't we," Ella said.

"I, uh," Adrien's speech faded as he thought. "I'm uncomfortable with it, too. I'm still struggling with it, even now. Lori—is too young to make this decision on her own."

"Too young?" Hanah asked.

"I'm only about 20,000 years old," Lori said to her, lowering her head a little to Adrien.

"So?" Ollie said. "That's old—"

Ella took a breath and cut in. "Adrien is approaching two hundred thousand."

Adrien looked genuinely uncomfortable with the topic.

"You don't like this?" Hanah asked Adrien.

Adrien shook his head.

"We value our privacy," Lori said.

"Too many times we've been burned by disclosures that make people uncomfortable," Ella said. "When that happens, something bad can happen."

"And we recoil," Lori said.

Adrien studied his feet. "Yet Lori let the cat out of the bag."

Lori looked slapped.

Adrien exhaled a little. "Throughout the aeons, when people around us would age—or if we had to leave for other reasons—we've been able to make up new identities by moving, with a few changes. Then we began—we humans, as we are too, now—began record keeping, and we had to start forging documents to integrate, which led to felonies. That's no good. And now in the digital age, where records are being increasingly integrated, it's becoming much more difficult to fake real I.D.s. Where did this new person come from? We can't really hack everybody's systems and create ourselves. We'd be found out. But with Lori's disclosures to the planet, all that has been rendered rather moot. People are not worried about it, and I don't think it can be hidden much longer."

"So," Hanah asked, "Cadence Jorgensen and Star Trek where there to prepare us for being here?"

Adrien smiled at her. "The old social systems, fears, even prejudice, are fading to the point where now, trying to remain stealath can actually become counterproductive, make us look eccentric or paranoid, which can interfere with integrations. As much as I hate to admit it, being open with it at this point may be the best way to integrate. And with that," Adrien said, "I think we need to hurry up and get the planet accustomed. If it's only half done, something could happen with some regime that could threaten us. If the planet fully integrates transmutation and Ahleth, then we stand the best chance from here to continue."

"You're like the Mexican immigration bill that Congress finally put through," Oliver said.

Adrien nodded.

"Something like that," Ella said. "We've been here longer than any of you, but we're very much a minority, and as far as your awareness, you're new to us. It's a change, and we're seen as outsiders."

Adrien looked thoughtful. "And Lori's about right."

"A genius?" Hanah asked.

Adrien smiled. "She is. But I think she just got lucky with this one." He looked at them all. "After twelve thousand years, we're not just visiting any more. At some point, we need to be accepted for who we were and who we are now."

"You've been in the closet as it were?" Hanah asked. "Because you sound like trans who were stealth worrying about coming out."

Ella nodded. "I guess we are."

"Lori didn't have permission to release transmuters to us, or talk about you," Oliver said. "Did she?"

Adrien shook his head. "She should have talked with us about it. But, honestly—" He looked at Ella who nodded. "It was time."

"You're Athden?" Lori asked Adrien, though she had been listening, pronouncing it "AH-den."

Adrien nodded.

Lori glanced toward Ella, who confirmed. "Just the same, tell me?"

"The last thing I said to you, Lorleth," Adrien said, "was, more or less, in English 'Now, be good,' and then I kissed you goodbye."

Lori looked at him encouragingly.

He continued. "It was when we decided to stay. I'd just been released, here."

"Where was that?" Lori asked.

Adrien continued, "On the hilltop, near what is now Gobekli Tepe."

Lori turned back to Adrien. "You could have gotten that information from him, if you're someone else—God, it doesn't seem right calling Athden 'him.' We change sexes so much— Ah!" Lori corrected herself. "We're usually intersex. I mean we present as different sexes so much."

Hanah smiled.

Ollie asked about that site. "The famous ancient archaeological site in Turkey?"

Lori nodded.

"So," Ollie asked, "Did you guys start Gobekli Tepe?"

Ellie shook her head. "That was later—people who were coming to us did it. And then it got too crowded, so we felt we should move the com."

"The 'com'?" Wood asked.

"You'll see. We're going to it, now," Lori said. "What about the coder?" she asked Adrien.

Adrien looked to Ella. The three Ahleth all looked at each other.

"Telepathy! Ahleth have telepathy!" Ollie said.

Lori laughed. "No! But sometimes we get inklings.

"We could go get the coder ourselves," Ella told Adrien.

Adrien nodded and glanced at Lori.

"But, honestly, there's no reason to," Lori said. "Maybe we could send Alexander to get it, with Cory maybe. He'd enjoy this."

Adrien smiled a little. "Always need to play a little?" he asked Lori.

Lori smiled with him.

Adrien nodded. "I forget, sometimes, how important that is."

"Quality of life," Ella said to them.

### CHAPTER

### 23

Chaco Canyon, New Mexico, west of Albuquerque: High on a butte to the southwest of the ancient Anasazi archaeological site, on the opposite side, out of view, a portion of land opened and another shuttle slipped silently out to the west, nap of the earth flying between other buttes, then arcing up to LEO altitudes to make its way west.

Cory Peck stepped out of his shower, drying off, his full manhood on display for Estella to see.

"I tell you," he said to his wife, who was sitting on the toilet near him, "I mean, like, wow! My God I'm gonna vote for Lori for President, I swear!"

Estella's smile was fading. "Yes, but—"

"Whassamatta, pumpkin?" Cory asked, planting a quick one on her lips, walking into the bedroom to get dressed.

A shadow descended over the house and Cory peeked out the window, looked up.

"Honey?" Cory called. "Did you order a space ship?"

"What?" Estella came out of the bathroom to look with him out the window. "What's that?"

Cory looked at it. "Flying saucer," he said matter-of-factly.

"How do you know?" Estella asked him.

"Because I am trans, chickadee. We know things like that." His smile didn't work on Estella. "We know space ships when we see 'em. I got worked over by her transmuter—like you well know! So, yeah! Why the hell not? A space ship."

"CORY," came a loud man's voice.

"Sounds like Sean Connery to me," Cory said to his wife. "A real man." Cory's smile was sardonic. He was playing with everything.

A neighbor peeked over a fence.

Cory opened the window. "Hi Mable! Good morning!" Then he shouted up, "Yes?"

"What's that?" Mable asked. "It's as big as your house!"

"I'm just talking to my space ship, Mable. It's okay." He looked at the ship again. "I think I'm going on a little trip, and it's the only way to fly."

"Oh, yes! Go!" Estella said. "Good to get out for a while!"

Cory stood in the shuttle. The display showed them rising to several thousand feet and arcing toward Lori's compound near Santa Barbara.

"So," Cory said to the ship. "Nice display you have here. What's up?"

"Good morning," the ship said in Sean's familiar Scottish accent. "You're new to me, but I'll introduce myself."

"Yeah good. Do I need a chair?"

"Not unless you're tired."

"No, I'm good. As long as I don't fall over."

"You look like you'er about ready to fall over, already."

"That's my wife's fault!"

The heads up display showed a large smile.

"I'm Alexander, the A.I. on this shuttle craft."

"Oh, how lovely," Cory said. "Whose ship are you?"

"I'm not anybody's. I'm me! Ruddy human thinks I'm not real because I'm A.I.?"

Cory held up his hands in defense. "No offense, man. You're great. Glad to know you. So, then: Who sent you for me? Lori or somebody?"

Alexander filled him in, over the two minutes it took them to reach the compound.

"Maybe you learned that story from Athden?" Lori asked Adrien.

Adrien's look to her was incredulous. "You may not trust another person, but you could trust Athden's discretion. I wouldn't reveal our intimacy."

True.

"Over time, you'll come to see it's me. Lwaxana could confirm it, if we connected with her."

"That's hard to do from this shuttle," Ella said. "No transmuter on board so she can compare him. Just repair, here."

Gadin, Marie, and Cory all stood in the shuttle in front of Alexander's 180 degree display.

A Sean-Connery face appeared on the display and looked them over.

All three of them were glowing.

Alexander's face showed a smirk. "I hope you all used condoms."

Gadin looked surprised.

Marie laughed.

Cory reached over and gave Marie a high five.

"Organic life forms are frail."

"Were you ever a secret agent?" Gadin asked Alexander.

"My whole bloody life. Hello, Marie. Welcome to the human species."

Marie reached down and out with both hands, palms up, then let them sweep back toward her own thighs in a common Ahlath greeting.

"You got at least some of your mom's memories," Alexander said.

"She remembers seeing you a long time ago."

The display showed them in LEO somewhere over the Pacific. Blue water was everywhere below.

"So where are we going?" Cory asked.

"It looks like Asia, dude," Gadin said.

"Tibet," Alexander said.

"Just for a lark?" Gadin asked.

"You mind if I fly?" Marie asked.

"If you can, go ahead," Alexander responded

A seat formed in front of the display and Marie sat there to move her hands in front of the display.

The shuttle craft went inverted. The earth below was now at the top of the display. Everyone was looking up at the planet as they flew under it.

Gadin's expression went to alarm. He looked to his feet, everyone's. He felt his head and measured the distance to the ceiling. "We didn't fall up? We're still planted on the floor!"

Marie giggled.

They all heard the sound of an old-fashioned telephone ring—the kind with the high pitched, annoying bell.

"Hello?" Alexander said, answering his 'phone.'

Alexander's HUD faded to opaque and super-imposed the image of the 6 on Bessie.

"Lori!" Cory said.

"Mom!" Marie turned the ship right-side-up again as if embarrassed.

"Who are those—? Wood, hi!" Gadin said. "Hanah? Mr. Vice President? Who are those others? Where are you?"

"That's Ella Gomez, Science Advisor," Cory said. "And that's—Adrien Archambeau?"

"Hob-nobbing with brilliance," Ella said.

"We're on the other shuttle, guys," Lori told them.

"Alexander, where are they?"

The heads-up-display changed to show a 3-D globe of the earth with their present location, then rotating to show them descending from LEO toward a large lake.

"You're at the Dead Sea?" Cory asked.

"Not quite," Alexander said.

"Will Smith would like this ship," Gadin said to Marie. "He gotta get him one of these."

"Now we're talkin'," Ella said.

"But we have a problem," Lori told them all, getting their attention. "You know fighting has broken out in several places since the transmuters went down." She glanced at Ella who changed their view in her HUD.

An area nearby expanded into view, showed what appeared to be a mob in the desert beside a town. A man was on his knees. Another man gave a signal, and a man with an automatic rifle fired several times into the head of the man on the ground. His brains blew out the front, hitting the dirt a mere second before his head.

Everyone in both ships became serious.

"What are we doing?" Cory asked. "We're going for a 'coder'? Like, where is that? And what is it, and what do we do with it?"

Alexander's HUD showed them still in LEO flying over Japan, still heading west.

On Bessie, Ella talked to Alexander's crew imaged on her HUD. "Alexander will take you to the coder. You guys get it, and Alexander, will you bring them and it to Site T as soon as you can?"

"We'll meet you there as soon as possible. Get a move on, okay guys?" Lori asked them. On Bessie's HUD, a serious Cory answered for them. "Of course. Right away. Where is Site T?"

"Alexander knows," Lori said. "Just work with him and meet us as soon as you can."

"Yeah! Sure!" Gadin said.

Marie switched off their view of Bessie's cockpit and back to their own heading.

China had turned into Tibet—

"Mount Everest?" Gadin asked. He looked at Marie. "You guys hid the coder at Mount Everest?"

"Not me, silly. I wasn't even born yet."

Cory shook his head no. "I doubt it. That would be too obvious a place."

"It's a land mark," Alexander said in his thick accent. "A post from which to find the way. There!"

Alexander put a pulsing dot on one of the snow-covered mountain peaks about a hundred miles to the west of Mount Everest.

"You couldn't set us down on Mt. Everest for just a minute and let us step out onto that for a picture could you?" Gadin asked.

Alexander's HUD displayed severe eyes.

"Never mind," Gadin stood behind Marie.

"How long to that spot?" Cory asked Alexander.

"Sixteen seconds, roughly," Alexander said. "I'm slowing down."

The mountain peak came into view, grew larger.

"Your wife still cis, Cory?" Gadin asked. "I read Janet Mock."

Cory nodded.

"You wear her out?"

Cory nodded again.

"She'll need to T-up to catch-up," Gadin said.

"God, it's beautiful," Marie said.

The world was a bright blue sky above, and brilliant white snow on gray rocky outcroppings.

Alexander descended the shuttle to nap of the earth flying, below neighboring mountain peaks. They swooped up and over crests and ridges, nearly brushing the snow off the sides of canyons.

All three humans inside the shuttle rocked unnecessarily with perceived motion they saw on Alexander's huge HUD before them. One crest seemed to be getting too close—

"Watch it, Alex!" Cory said.

They skimmed the ridge so closely all three humans stood taller.

"What you think you're doing?" Gadin chided Alexander.

Alexander laughed.

A mountain seemed to be in their way. Alexander's course corrected slightly. The mountain grew closer, rapidly.

"Alex!" Gadin said.

"Don't call me 'Alex.'"

The mountain was right in front of them—

"Alexander!" Cory creamed.

The shuttle flew straight at the side of the mountain—

"Alex!" Cory screamed.

Just before impact, the two men inside the shuttle reached out with their arms to brace themselves, though there was no wall close enough to touch.

The shuttle flew into the side of the mountain, through the rock face to find themselves inside a cave.

They rapidly slowed.

"Go right over there," Alexander showed them by putting a dot on the side of the cave wall.

Gadin was sweating. "So what the hell do you think you're doing, Alex!?"

Alexander and Marie both laughed at him.

"I told you not to call me 'Alex,'" Alexander said.

Gadin touched his heart with his right hand. "Good God Great Heifer!"

Cory scowled at Marie. "Funny."

"So where is it over there?" Gadin asked, regaining composure.

"I'll show you when you get there. Just bring it here."

"So it's not large?" Gadin asked.

"It's about the size of a Rubik's Cube. Which I can work in 0.00000823 seconds, by the way, in the dark, with a hangover."

"I'm sure you could," Cory said to him. "Okay! Away team?" Cory said as if he were Captain Kirk. "Lets keep this tight. Get out; get it; get in. No window shopping. Marie, you want to stay here on the ship?"

She nodded.

"Any yetis in the cave?" Gadin asked.

"They're waiting to eat you," Alexander said. "You're probably going to die. Get on with it."

Gadin leaned closer to Marie. "He is such a smart a—"

"Okay, Gadin. Remember where we parked."

The door opened in the side of the shuttle. Gadin and Cory exited. It was cold. The air was rarified, thin.

"We won't be out here long enough for it to matter," Cory said.

"If he leaves us here, we would die, quick," Gadin said.

"Interesting idea," Alexander said from behind them, which drew a smirk from Gadin and a chuckle from Cory.

They walked over to the place Alexander had marked. It was just a wall.

"Well?" Cory said.

Part of the wall blurred, faded, and the coder was revealed sitting in a small alcove.

Cory picked it up. "It actually looks like a Rubik's Cube?"

"Rubik's 'Cute,'" Gadin corrected.

They ran back onto the shuttle, which closed, lifted, turned and exited the cave like a shot out of a gun.

### CHAPTER

### 24

The dead sea grew on Bessie's HUD.

As the shuttle descended everyone inside could see people near the sea. Some were in the water, more were on some shores.

"They're going to see us," Hanah said.

Ella nodded. "Yes, I think they will."

"But then they'll know where it is!" Wood said.

Adrien nodded.

"There's nothing we can do about it at this time," Lori said.

"We'll just move the com later, when we put it somewhere else," Alexander said. "When we put it there, no one was around."

Ruth Chafetz and her two children played in the salty Dead Sea, practicing their "standing' in the water.

"Look, kids," she said to them in Hebrew. 'Stand' in the water. It's got so many minerals in it, it's heavy, so you're buoyant—it takes less of your mass to displace an equal weight of water."

She showed the two kids. All three of them stood vertically in the water, their heads sticking clear out.

People roused. Some began to scream, but most stood and watched as the shuttle descended toward the lake and knifed into the water out in the middle, disappearing underneath.

"Stuff like that probably happened in ancient days also," Ruth said to her kids. "Everything's going to need re-evaluation."

The six on Bessie watched as they flew straight at the water and slid in. They slowed underneath, but there was no appearent feeling of resistance.

Except for flight metrics, Bessie's HUD became black and then opened to reveal a tunnel, then a chamber hewn of rock.

Oliver made a face as if confident. "Sure. I mean, no big deal, for astronauts."

Bessie landed on the cavern floor and illuminated the area with her external lighting.

Her door opened.

The crew exited.

The walls were dark and gray, barely lit by the ship.

"The air is so stale," Hanah remarked.

"It wouldn't be if we stayed," Lori said. "Bessie would clean it up."

"You couldn't have installed lights in here?" Oliver asked.

"If the place were ever discovered, it should look like just a cavern," Ella said.

"What about— How do you keep the water out?" Wood asked.

"The door is like a holographic projection, but it's non-permeable except for a shuttle," Ella explained. "Won't let the water from the lake through, but lets us through."

"If they found the cavern wouldn't they find the holographic sea-bed also?" Oliver asked.

"Maybe," Ella said. "Maybe not.

"They're not giving away too many secrets," Hanah said to Wood.

"And we shouldn't," Ella told him with a smile.

Adrien waited, put his hands in his pockets, didn't seem to want to proceed.

Lori looked at him with a question.

Ella stood and waited.

The three 1st Century humans developed questionings on their faces, yet remained quiet.

Adrien looked at the other two Ahleths, said nothing, walked over and reached out his arm to a blank wall. A small alcove formed. He reached inside and withdrew a small device that looked more like a Leggo toy than a com device.

The wall sealed back up.

Adrien walked back to them, holding the com, stood with them without saying anything.

"What?" Oliver asked.

"What's the matter?" Hanah asked.

Wood looked to Lori.

Neither Lori nor Ella said anything.

Lori gave the three 1st Centuries a small wave with her hand, signaling "Wait."

The three Ahleth's seemed to be communicating without saying anything, as if understanding each other's concerns.

"We have to move it, because we're here," Adrien said.

Ella nodded.

Lori kept still. She was the one who had caused the situation.

"If we do this," Adrien finally said, to both Lori and Ella, his accent all but gone.

Ella finished for him. "There's no going back."

"But," Lori said, "People can handle it. Not like before. I feel it."

"They would handle it according to their own way," Adrien said, "which may well not be what we hope for."

"Would you be able to handle them knowing?" Lori asked Adrien.

"Forever? For the rest of time on this planet?" Adrien asked.

Lori nodded.

"Would you feel embarrassed?" Ella asked him.

"Yes, I think I would," Adrien said. "I haven't even told all this to my husband."

"It's an evolution in Earth societies," Ella said. "Lori started it—she outed the whole thing."

"Not all of it," Adrien said. "But even this much that we're talking about?" He shook his head.

"I would complain, 'Jesus,'" Ella said. "but that was Cadence Jorgensen—"

"Jesus was Ahleth? And he was Cadence Jorgensen?" Hanah asked, astonished.

Lori looked at Hanah. "She has always been trying to help people."

"She did that whole life to help societies prepare for people who transition?" Hanah asked. Her mouth was agape.

Ella nodded. "It was clear people wanted to transition, some were already, but there was no guidance. The technology was developing, and she felt she needed to trailblaze a bit. People were hurting. I think it was very helpful."

"And you said, earlier, that Jorgensen is still with us, still alive? So—Jesus is still alive?" Wood asked.

Adrien glanced at Lori and Ella, who said nothing.

"Fess up!" Oliver said. "Who is Jorgensen now? Who was Jesus, man?"

Adrien handed the com in his left hand to Ella, walked into the shuttle.

"Site T, now," Ella said, turning to follow Adrien.

### CHAPTER

### 25

"Where is Site T," Colonel Wood asked.

"We'll get there," Bessie said.

The shuttle flew southwest across acros the Sinai Peninsula.

"Bessie," Ella said. "We should divert to Karnak for a second. Part of the power is there."

"I enjoy working with humans," Bessie said like HAL.

Ella smiled at them all. "That was sarcasm, I think?" Then to Bessie, "You're digging it in that we're human now?"

"Just teasing, what the hell," Bessie said.

It was late afternoon, becoming evening. The sun was low in the western sky, beginning to cast a golden hue over the earth beneath them. They crossed over the Gulf of Suez in silence.

The HUD in the shuttle clearly showed them approaching Karnak in Upper Egypt.

Tours on the ground in the ancient Karnak temple stopped to gape at the flying saucer. Their faces clearly showed alarm.

A message loudly yet calmly played via Bessie's external speakers in Arabic, English, and French: "It is okay, everyone. We are Ahleth, just here to pick up something, then we'll leave. We'll only be here a second. Have a nice day."

People calmed and watched, sometime with a hand over the mouth.

Ella smirked. "Bessie was the space ship who invented Muzak, I think."

People on the ground watched as the shuttle, the size of a house, settled over a 97-foot tall obelisk, 320-tons of solid Aswan granite.

"Karnak is amazing!" Hanah remarked. "And so golden in the sunset."

"It's amazing at any time." Lori smiled at her.

The western sides of pillars in Karnak were gold; the eastern sides were turning black, in silhouette.

"You're gonna set this thing down on the tip of Hatsepshut's Obelisk?" Hanah asked.

"You know your Egyptology," Lori said.

Bessie settled the shuttle down to within two inches of the top of the obelisk and held, station-keeping. A panel opened in the floor of the shuttle, and Ella reached down to the top of the granite peak.

Everyone of the 1st Centuries crowded around the panel opening to look. The point of the obelisk was right there in front of them.

Ella reached her hand beneath the shuttle into the sunlight, toward the peak of the obelisk—half gold in sunlight, half black in silhouette.

People on the ground saw the shuttle center over the obelisk and what may have been a hand—

Ella's hand hovered over the stone and turned slightly. The tip of the obelisk disappeared, revealing a small opening.

Ella withdrew what looked like a ring and stood back up inside the shuttle.

The opening in the top of the obelisk closed.

The panel in the bottom of the shuttle closed.

"Best speed to Site T, Bessie," Ella said.

The shuttle shot north.

"A ring was in the top of that? How long? Forever?" Oliver asked.

"I guess it was the 15th Century B.C.E." Ella said. "Maybe we should say 'B.T.E.' Before the Trans Era." She glanced at Adrien.

"Inside Hatshepsut's Obelisk," Wood said.

Ella nodded with a glance to the other two Ahleth on board. "I put it there when I had the thing built—to keep it out of everyone's hands. Grave robbers were raiding pharaonic burial sites, you know."

"Hatshepsut?" Hanah asked Ella. "You?"

"It's not that big a deal. I was just keeping the peace. The politics then were so wicked. Everyone wanted to overthrow the throne, and Thutmosis was way too aggressive for anybody's good. War was in the offing. The priests were a pain in the tuchus, so I cooled it for a while."

"Site T," Bessie said.

The HUD showed them descending to the area of the Sphinx and the three great pyramids of the Giza Plateau, southwest of Cairo.

Night was beginning to fall, and Bessie's HUD compensated, so portions in shadow glowed in blue, sometimes with outlines.

Alexander was there waiting for them, hovering over Khufu's Great Pyramid.

"The guy has never been subtle," Bessie said.

People on the ground could clearly be seen on Bessie's HUD, watching them, agape.

Adrien indicated something non-verbal to Ella.

"Bessie, please announce again?" Ella said.

Bessie did.

"My God, the Sphinx," Hanah said.

"It used to have the head of an Ahleth on it," Lori told them. "They got it from an old scroll, not from us. We told them not to do that, and they changed it later to the head of a pharaoh."

"Big improvement," Ella said. "Makes the head look small, though."

Everyone inside the shuttle watched the HUD carefully.

The screen changed to the bridge of the other shuttle.

A HUD image of Alexander nodded to them.

1st Centuries began to wave, but Ella stilled them. "Keep it serious, please."

Ella looked to Adrien.

A quick turn took them to the south side of Khufu's great pyramid, about two-thirds of the way up the southern face. Hovering over the Solar Boat, Bessie nudged them to within a few inches of the stone.

The personnel door opened in the side of the shuttle. Adrien stood in the doorway and reached out to nearly touch the pyramid. A small section faded. Everyone could clearly see a pathway, leading down at an angle toward the center of the pyramid. A round ball, like an orange rose from the path, of its own accord, and settled into Adrien's left hand.

The opening in the pyramid closed, sealed, was undetectable.

The two shuttles rose and moved skyward another eight thousand feet, again on the earth's terminator at that height, where the sun was setting, again.

"Will you dock us?" Ella asked Bessie.

"Sure," Bessie said. "Drifting with outside winds."

The two shuttles touched, and both their doors opened, ramps touched, formed a platform between them.

1st Centuries backed away from the openings.

"We are synched with external winds," Bessie said. "There is no breeze."

"It's two miles down," Gadin said from their ship.

"It's just like walking to the bathroom," Alexander told him.

"Come on," Lori said to everyone on Alexander's shuttle. "Get over here!"

Marie walked across the ramp to Bessie without effort.

Cory and Gadin took some effort, but they finally made it.

The ships closed and separated.

Ella began to assemble the four parts together, while Alexander led them straight up into space, out of Earth orbit, toward the waxing half moon, where they noticed their third sunrise of the day.

### CHAPTER

### 26

"Can you get me the President?" Ella asked Bessie.

In short order, Cadence Helmsley appeared on the screen.

"Ella. How's it going?" Cadence asked.

"Fine, Madam President. We're all here, together: Hanah, Wood, Marie, Gadin, Cory, Lori, Oliver, Adrien, and me."

"And Bessie and Alexander," Alexander put in.

"Who?" Cadence asked.

"Ship A.I.s, Ella said. They're people, too."

"Damn tootin'," Alexander said in his Sean Connery accent.

"Where are you?" Cadence asked.

"Over Giza," Ella said. "346 statute miles high. We have the parts. We've made a stir, but we're on our way to Gene, the mother ship, as Sci-Fi calls it."

Gadin leaned over to Marie as if she didn't know, and whispered, "Probably named it after Gene Roddenberry."

Marie whispered back, "Gene named himself after the mother ship."

"And where is that?" Cadence asked Ella.

Ella looked to Adrien and Lori.

"It's at the Earth-Moon Lagrange 4," Ella said.

"I don't know where that is," Cadence said.

"It's—" Ella thought. "Imagine roughly an equilateral triangle with points at the earth, the moon, and another in space ahead and in the plane of the moon's orbit of the earth."

Cadence looked stern. "Just tell me."

"It's a quarter million miles that way," Ella said, pointing up.

Gadine's face was aghast.

"You sure you want to do this?" Ella asked Cadence.

"Is it the only way to bring— No, it's not," Cadence said. "I can see that."

"Right," Lori said.

"But—" Cadence seemed to think. "We've got conflicts breaking out everywhere, particularly in the Middle East. Most people want the transmuters to function, of course, but there are many who see it as playing God or interfering with God's plan or preventing people from joining God in the next life—which they seem determined to hasten by killing people outright. We're tracking it all over out there."

"The solution could clear up some old concerns, Madam President," Adrien said, "But it could also open up new ones, ones we can't predict."

"Life is the process of working things out," Cadence said.

"Are you Ahleth?" Ella asked Cadence.

The president smiled, then said with Lori's species reference: "No. Not transspecial; just trans."

Adrien said, "This affects the entire Earth, Madam President—"

"Cadence, please."

Adrien shook his head. "It's best you hear your title, Madam President. To remind you and everyone of the weight of your office."

Cadence let out some air. "Okay. Yes, I've talked with leaders in several countries. England is for it, France, Australia, New Zealand, Iceland—China and Japan are okay with it, even Brazil, to my surprise. But others don't like the idea, such as Russia, anywhere in the Middle East, where the hot-bed is, India— I don't know what is best, but it seems to me it is."

Ella looked to Lori and Adrien. There was no response from them. "We'll keep working on it, then, Madam President. Will advise."

Bessie ended the call.

"So, where we going?" Oliver asked.

Bessie displayed a graphic of the area of space encompassing the earth, moon, and surrounding area as seen from overhead the north pole of Earth, looking down on the area as a map.

"The distance to the moon is about a quarter million miles," Ella said.

Bessie drew a line.

"Make that the base of a sort-of equilateral triangle, and that point over there, to the left—"

Bessie drew the rest of the triangle with a rough oval around the western point.'

"—is the 4th Lagrange point. A nice parking space. You put something there, and it'll pretty much stay."

"Wow!" Cory said. "No human has ever gone that far!"

Lori smiled at him. "Well, I wouldn't say that."

Ella answered him seriously. "The moon is that far, but it's over there."

Alexander led the way to Gene—heading straight toward the moon briefly, then arcing left toward open space—with Bessie close behind, showing them on her HUD moving map their progress.

Gadin looked worried. "It's a long way out into nothing. We're cool, right?"

"No," Alexander said over the com in this thick Scottish accent. "We'll probably all be killed."

"Alex!" Oliver said.

"The weasel asked me another dumb question," Alexander said.

"I'm sorry!" Gadin said, gawking nervously at the HUD.

"It's just space, boy!" Alexander said. "That's what we were built for."

"Didn't you see Apolo 13?" Gadin asked.

"They handled it," Alexander said. "We didn't need to help."

"You stood there and watched?" Gadin asked.

"Humans have to learn to fly in space!" Alexander said. "And we were still in the cave closet, as it were."

Gadin was getting a little pale.

Marie reached over and put her hand on Gadin's chest. "Relax, honey. It's okay. Bessie, can you give us a couch?"

A couch formed against the bulkhead.

Marie led Gadin to lie on it.

"It's only a quarter million miles out in space?" Gadin asked Ella. "You're a pharaoh? You know?"

"It's mild shock," Ella said.

"It's probably what he felt when he got laid—last night, was it?" Cory teased Gadin.

Gadin's eyes floated to Cory then to Adrien who knelt beside him.

"Probably just this air, here—panels open." Gadin looked around. "There's these little walls then the vacuum of space—sucking at us! Nothing's out there!"

"We're gonna disassemble Alexander," Ella said, "and use his molecules to form a protective cloud around us, right Bessie?"

Alexander's expression was a smile.

Adrien put his hand on Gadin's chest and let a little confidence flow into him.

"Are you Vulcan?" Gadin asked him. "Do Ahleth look like Vulcan?"

Adrien smiled, pressed a little on Gadin's chest.

"Are you tired, Gadin?" Adrien asked him.

"It's been a long day," Gadin said in something like a stupor. "We had sex and she is good at it probably learned it from her mother though I can't believe I'm saying that then—then a space ship picked us up and some dude killed a man and we're flying through hostile space to nowhere—"

"It's peaceful," Adrien said, quieting him. "Then 40 winks might sound nice right about now."

Gadin's eyes glassed over, and he fell to sleep.

"I could have just had sex with him again," Marie offered.

Hanah and Wood chuckled. Wood coughed into his hand.

"It might have embarrassed him," Lori said.

"Why?" Marie asked.

"She was a dog," Cory said to Oliver.

"What do I know? I was spayed!"

Eleven minutes later, their speed slowed as they approached L4. The little dot showing their progress on the flight path moved the last bit toward their destination.

"I don't see anything," Wood said. "It's just black out there."

"Gene?" Ella said through Bessie.

The voice that responded was deep and vibrant, sounding neither male nor female. "Bessie has introduced you. Welcome back. It has been 1026.327 cycles of this sun since you were last here."

"But where are you?" Cory asked.

No ship was visible, though stars were blanked as if there were nothing around them.

"Hello, Gene," Adrien said. "2 shuttles to board. Open hatch 2?"

A sliver of light appeared ahead, grew into a wider sliver to reveal a large hangar bay, bright, surrounded by blackness in the void of space.

The two shuttlecrafts entered and sat down.

The door behind them closed.

### CHAPTER

### 27

Mel rolled off Nicki to lie in his motel room's queen-sized bed next to her.

"No! My God, stay!" Nicki said to him, rolling onto her side onto his shoulder, his arm still under her head. She reached under the sheets for him, but he moved her hand up to his chest.

She played with his chest hair, there.

"I gotta rest, hon," Mel said.

"We're only 20."

"I know, but I never was much good past twice, and I still ain't I guess. Were you gay before?"

"No," she said. "I have no idea. I never thought so."

"Well, you're into men, now."

"You have no idea—I had no idea."

She reached up to kiss him briefly on the mouth.

Mel squeezed her shoulder, squeezed her tight into his side for a hug.

"But this body," Nicki said, "is so— I don't know. But it needs you. Your whole— The whole you— It's like I know what you can do for me, and you can, and it's completely different—nothing like before, but it's driving me crazy and I gotta—"

Mel laughed at her.

"It's not funny!" She slapped him on the chest. "I had no idea how this felt!"

"Think you can keep it together for this afternoon?"

"I'm ready right now!"

"I mean, we got the quick draw competitions at 3:00. If you're not pregnant, you gonna do it?"

"I don't think I can. No way." She reached for under the sheets for him again, and he let her.

"Well, I gotta do it. I wanna get me another one of them trophies for the mantle. Come with me."

"Okay!" She reached up to kiss him again.

"Mind yourself, girl!" Mel as Horny Toad Callahan walked down the dirt street past the stage coach, keeping his girlfriend at bay with a straight arm. He wore just one six-gun on his right hip, fully loaded, slung low.

Nicki as Sexy Britches walked beside him, in a frontier-style dress she'd bought, but without any guns.

"We got men's work today," Mel said.

"Give me something! You're killing me!" Nicki said to him.

"I gave you three."

Nicki dropped into a kneeling position, her dress filling the ground around her. She moved her hands to her face, flushed.

Mel stopped walking and looked at her.

"You're a sad case!" he said to her, but she didn't seem to hear him. "Look," he said.

No response from her.

He bent over to hold her forearms, half-lifting her into a standing position. "How's this?" he said, kissing her warmly on the lips.

She kissed him back like a bride on her wedding night.

People on wooden sidewalks and crossing the street stopped to applaud. Some jeered in fun. Some laughed.

Two cowboys by the saloon watched. "That girl is Sassy Britches? She was a man until yesterday?"

"Yup," said Jarod.

"Is that gay?" said Jeff.

"Outa be," said Jarod.

"Think they'd mind?" said Jeff.

Jarod looked around at the faces of others.

Two ladies crossing the street smiled at the lovers.

Cowboys all around smiled. Comments seemed in fun, pleasant. Nothing negative.

Jarod looked at Jeff. "You know, to hell with them if they do." He turned Jeff to face him, and kissed him warmly on the mouth just as Horny and Sexy were doing.

Jeff's cowboy hat fell off, and slowly his arms came up to encircle Jarod's head for a long, loving smooch.

There was a brief pause before one cowboy nearby erupted. "Holy cow, Fang! You is gay?"

"Gay cowboys!"

"Brokeback Mountain!"

"Is that what we're supposed to do now?" another asked.

One cowboy took off his hat and hit himself in the leg with it in disgust. "Well, I am depressed. I ain't got me no cowboy friend! Faggots!"

All four of the lovers stopped kissing at that remark and looked.

"Henry Wage-earner, you old stick in the mud," the sheriff said, approaching the bigot. "What the hell you thought—all cowboys are straight!? In this day and age? Ain't no body could really be that effing stupid."

"But they're both men!" Henry said. "And these two over here— That one was a man."

The sheriff shook his head. "Some people is—idgits," he said. "Dragons is so stupid."

Henry looked to nearby cowboys and cowgirls for support, but they all seemed to support the Sheriff.

"You gonna arrest me, Sheriff?" Henry asked.

"I should— No, hell— Yes I will, dangit! Gimme that gunbelt!"

People around them chuckled at Henry.

"It ain't a real jail, Jim," Henry said. "And you ain't a real sheriff."

The sheriff pointed to the right.

Henry looked to see a cowboy leaning on the porch post in front of the bank. "The Match Master?" Henry asked the Sheriff. "What of it?"

"I can kick troublemakers out of this match, is what," the Match Master said.

The sheriff pointed at Henry's gun belt. "Gimme it!"

Henry hung his head and gave the sheriff his gun rig, his six gun still in it.

"Now go ahead on—git your sorry ass over there in that jail," the sheriff said.

Cowboys and cowgirls around applauded.

Jarod stood smiling with his arm around Jeff's waist.

Mel stood smiling with his arm around Nicki.

"I ain't never been in jail before," Henry said to the sheriff as he walked.

"From some of the other stuff you've said, I think maybe you should have."

The bathroom monitor at the movies blew his new lifeguard whistle at the crowd! "Now hold on!"

People disregarded him and went to the bathroom in whichever one they seemed to want.

"You're a man!" the monitor souted to someone who walked past him. "You're just a man, and that's the ladies' room!"

### CHAPTER

### 28

Once onboard the mother ship, and to the 1st Centuries' amazement, Adrien recommended everyone get some sleep.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Gadin exclaimed.

"He's kidding," Oliver said.

"No way!" Hanah said.

Wood was in complete agreement. "Oh, no. I— I couldn't sleep right now— On this huge, magnificent ship!?"

They were standing on Gene's bridge with the most amazing HUD, perhaps 40 feet tall and 100 feet wide, arranged in the familiar semi-circle around them, displaying, somehow, the entire region of space, including the moon and earth, but also, somehow, close-ups of areas of both, even images of some of the earth's satellites in orbit.

Adrien held up his hands. "It's important," he said. "We're—all of us—only human. We have a lot of work to do tomorrow, and we need to be fresh."

"What if the ship blows a fuse?" Gadin asked. "What if it gets a virus, and we get struck up here? We're way out here!"

Ella sneered at him. "What if the earth gets hit by a comet and they're all killed, and we're spared because we're up here? It's more likely."

"But I saw Apolo 13," Gadin said. "And it happens in Star Trek all the time—disasters of every kind."

"Spock was raised from the dead," Ella said.

Gadin's eyes widened. "Do you know him, too?"

"You could stimulate us for tomorrow," Oliver said. "Keep us awake. Like you helped Gadin sleep. I mean, we gotta see this ship!"

Adrien shook his head. "Not as good as genuine sleep."

"But it's not possible to sleep now," Cory said. "Biologically—we're gassed. This ain't gonna happen."

Lori nodded to them. "It's okay. You go into your quarters, and when you're ready to sleep, tell Gene. Just speak up. And she'll make you sleep."

"I'll wake us in the morning, if you're not already awake," Ella said. "Good night." She walked off the bridge, presumably to her own room.

"Gene," Adrien said to the air. "Will you show people to their rooms?"

"Sure." A holographic guide appeared near each of the 1st Centuries and beconed them to follow.

"You'll wake us up early?" Oliver asked. "So we can spend some time here?"

Gene answered them in her neither-male-nor-female voice: "Yes."

Adrien looked at Lori. "You want to go ahead, Lori?"

Lwaxana, in Lori's compound on Earth, woke from a deep sleep. Lights flashed through it, and a holo-screen appeared, displaying several matrices.

Lori stood in Gene's central transmutation station before a transmuter crowded on one side by rows of crystals.

"Bring up Lwaxana's matrix, Gene." She moved her hands over crystals and through the air to see symbols mirror on a holoscreen across a far wall. "Adjust to match."

"Lwaxana, can you hear me?"

After a 2.72 second pause, Lwaxana responded. "Yes. I can hear you."

"We're attempting to reset all the transmuters on Earth. Have we learned why they corrupted?"

"No, I have not. Gene?"

"I do not know where the flaws came from, but I can reset them all with the correct parameters per Lwaxana's original design for them," Gene said.

"Good," Lori said. "How?"

Gene answered. "I can design a pattern, wipe them, and reload."

"Lwaxana, too?" Lori asked.

"No. She and the few others I see of Ahleth are not corrupted. They have the full system, and they are protected."

"Thank God for small favors," Lwaxana said.

"But the derivitives are unsafe and need to be rebooted."

"A flaw?" Lwaxana asked.

"No. A clever intrusion," Gene confirmed.

"How long will it take?" Lori asked.

"About an hour," Gene said. "I cannot know for sure, as some manufacture has not been yours."

"You can reach them all from here?" Lori asked.

"I could piggy back earth-based satellites, but I think it would be better for me to develop a virus that will go into the earth's internet, seek out and correct the transmuters, and stay in the system to correct any future corruptions."

"How long to develop the virus," Lori asked.

Gene paused for 0.00734 seconds. "It is complete."

"You mind?" Lori asked Gene. "Lwaxana, can you confirm effectiveness of that virus?"

Lwaxana paused for 0.23 seconds, plus 2.52 seconds for speed of light turn-around time. "That's like asking a student to check Feynman's math, but yes, it appears correct."

"Glad to hear it," Gene said.

"Ella? It's ready," Lori said.

Ella came back without hesitation. "Then initiate."

"Go ahead—" Lori attempted to tell Gene to do it, but Gene interrupted her.

"It's initiated."

In her private quarters at the White House, and even though it was closed, Cadence's laptop beeped.

Cadence's eyebrows raised. She opened the laptop, and Lori's Skype was on it.

"Madam President?"

"Yes?"

"We've initiated a correction from this end for all transmuters. The fix will not be immediate, but it should all be done in about an hour. I've arranged for you to speak directly with Lwaxana if you choose to confirm them, once they're repaired, but it's not necessary."

"How do I contact her?" Cadence asked.

"Just call the compound and ask for her. They'll put you in touch with her—like as if she were a corporeal human."

"She can skype?"

Lori smiled. "Can Bob Hope laugh?"

"You mean could he?" Cadence asked.

Lori's smile looked real, yet tired. "He still does."

When Lori entered her quarters the room illuminated to a moderate amount, as she had indicated in the past.

She said nothing, stood and looked at the room: a simple bed, a table, a few chairs around it, blank walls, an alcove to the left. The whole room was less than a 12x24 foot span. There were no windows, no obvious lights.

"Would you like to dress for bed?" Gene asked.

Lori's face sagged. She bowed her head a little, and raised her arms. Her clothes dissolved into the form of a night gown.

She walked as if in a daze to the alcove, where she was cleansed. Her hair, her body, her nightgown, all fresh as if cleansed in the purest water and dried with the finest cotton towel.

She looked at the room, and a tear fell down her cheek.

She shook her head in sadness.

"John," she said in the simplest terms.

An entire wall became a silent video of John playing with Marie on the beach.

"Mom?" Lori heard spoken to her through the door's announcer. "You in there?"

Lori nodded and the door to her room opened. Marie entered and stared at the video, her mom sitting with tears.

"Come here, sweetie," Lori said.

Marie went over and sat on her mother's lap.

Lori hugged her tightly.

"I've always loved you," Lori said to her. "You remember our first meeting?"

Marie shook her head. "I was too young?"

Lori hugged her more tightly. "You were this little thing—big head, big feet, and this little, tiny but. Your tail had been bobbed."

Marie hugged her mother back.

"I found you at a friend's, a breeder. You were from Kansas, but this breeder had you for sale—God, it scares me to think you could have been adopted by someone else. Then I'd never have known you. You mean so much.

"I had to make you!" Lori told her. "When your father died, I—" Lori cried some more. "And now coming here, it hits me home. I was so lonely. I'd been stealth for so long. You can't connect very well with people, when you're under cover."

Marie patted her mother on the head.

Lori chuckled at her and reached up to pat Marie on the head, too—bent her over to kiss her on top the head, like she always did.

"That vid is a good recreation," Marie said, referring to the wall.

Lori nodded. "Gene, will you show them walking? Show Marie running out in front?"

The wall image changed to show John walking with Marie running out ahead 50 feet, then running side to side.

Marie giggled. "I was just having fun."

"Yes, but your breeding had you—"

"Flushing birds, I know," Marie said.

The image changed to show Marie running back to John, jumping up at the last second for him to catch her in his arms, getting knocked backward onto the sand, Marie breaking free to run circles around him.

"Where did I get all that energy?" Marie asked.

"You were young."

"Lori?" the door announcer asked. It was Cory.

Lori nodded and the door opened again.

Both Cory and Gadin entered.

Lori wiped her face in her hands.

"I thought you looked a little down," Cory said.

The two of them took a seat near Lori. Marie got off Lori's lap and took another seat, as well.

"So I brought this." Cory showed them a bottle of champagne. "Gene gave it to me."

"No telling what she has stored in her memory banks," Gadin said.

"Like this bottle of champagne. I'd swear I just got it from the Faculty Club. Nice bottle." Cory tapped on the bottle with his knuckles.

"But pitty," Gadin said. "We can't drink it. No cups."

"From the bottle!" Cory began working the wire on the cork.

Four cups appeared before them on the table.

"Gene! One of my new best friends!" Gadin said. "There is no way I could sleep up here."

"Yes, there is," Gene said.

"In a bit then?" Gadin asked. "Not now?"

"I could have some, too," Marie said.

Lori started to object. "You're too—"

"No, she's not," Gadin said. "Too late for that."

Lori reached over to squeeze her hand.

Cory got the wire off the cap, and the cork blew of its own accord.

People exclaimed, jumped out of the way.

Champagne flowed out of the bottle onto the table, dripping onto the floor.

The image on the wall changed to show their table extending, with John seated at it with them, with his own cup, enjoying with them.

"So lets get this party started," John's image said.

Lori cried harder while she held her cup to Cory for some champagne.

All cups filled, Lori couldn't restrain herself. "I love you so much, John!"

"I love you, too, Lori. But no tears now or we'll be drinking them in our glasses." John held his glass high for all to follow. "Here's to Lori," he said, "for being the best wife a guy ever had." Everyone nodded and began to click glasses, but John continued. "And here's to everyone else, as well. It's good to see you again, Cory, and my little doll Marie! Damn, you look good!"

All chuckled.

John continued. "Here's to everyone of us: We're all part of the process that brought us here to this fantastic ship with the galaxy's smartest A.I.—"

Marie and Lori smiled.

"Ooooh! Gene!" Gadin said.

"Patting herself on the back! Shameless!" Cory said.

"That has brought us to the age of transmutation, health, and longevity. You're my kind of people. And I've been so proud to love you all."

Tears flowed freely down Lori's cheeks as all drank the toast.

### CHAPTER

### 29

A rapid gong jarred Gadin from his sleep.

Marie was already gone.

The gong repeated.

Gadin rolled over in his bed. "What is it with you people!"

Adrien was on Gene's bridge. Ella was beside him.

Cadence was on the HUD. "It looks like a riot, Adrien."

Gene opened a window on the HUD to show people fighting in the old city of Jerusalem.

Lori walked into the room. "I think we're about ready," she said. "from my end."

"Is everybody up?" Ella asked Gene.

"She made sure we are," Gadin said, walking onto the bridge with the other 1st Centuries.

"You're wearing a white bath robe?" Cory asked with a chuckle.

"That's all that was there! My clothes are gone."

Cadence's Oval Office was large on the HUD. "Hello everyone."

"Good morning, Madam President," Oliver said.

"Good morning. How long will it take you to get there?" Cadence asked Lori. It's morning there, now.

Lori thought. "We could do it in juist a few minutes, but that would scare people even more, so I think we should take it slow. Maybe just over an hour."

"When will you be there?" Ella asked Cadence.

"Film crews are already there for the coming war. I'm not going to be on site, because, frankly, I think it best I not appear to be involved."

Georgina Wells, Secretary of State, walked in to the Oval Office. "Skyping with the Mother Ship on your laptop?"

She gave Cadence a paper. "We're going to have war on our hands. The groups in Syria, Lebanon and the Gaza are all blossoming. The transmuters are up and running again, but the fight over them is changing focus to Israel. I've got people trying to keep a lid on it, but we're losing it."

"Adrien— Lori: Can you make it any sooner?"

Adrien's head sagged. He glanced at Ella and Lori, and nodded gravely.

The connection with the President ended.

Gene's HUD went back to showing Earth-moon proximity, data flying over it relating to various measurements.

"Where are we going?" Cory Peck asked the Ahleths.

Adrien's mood was heavy.

Oliver said nothing.

Hanah and Wood stood by each other, obviously in support of whatever was done.

A glance from Adrien—

Ella spoke up. "Gene, please make preparations to bring this ship to Earth. We must depart as soon as possible."

"Working," Gene said.

"Lori, you drive. Get us there. Don't wreck the place while you're at it, if you can."

Lori nodded and stepped closer to the HUD, began managing displays. The screen changed from their region of space to various navigation displays, including possible rourtes.

"Colonel Wood," Ella continued, "Would you mind changing out of your uniform? Perhaps a business suit, for this?"

"Okay, if you wish."

Colonel Wood's uniform morphed into a business suit worthy of Wall Street.

He looked surprised, but smiled at Hanah.

"Hanah— You still going to wear that dress?"

"What's the occasion?"

"This— Gene? You think a formal?"

"I think in this case, a white formal, maxi, shoulders but no sleeves would do nicely. Pleated, thin material, light, slinky, flowing."

Hanah's face brightened. "Yes!"

At once, her dress did so become.

Hanah held the material to the sides and watched it flow gently back down.

"Oliver, your suit is fine, but for this, you'll need to be sure and stay inside the ship. I don't want anyone to see you."

"I'm so embarrassing!"

"No. But you're the Vice President of the U.S.A., and that won't do for this. Too political."

"You're—"

"I'm just a science advisor—I agree that's bad, but I'm also Ahleth, and I may be needed. We'll see."

A large chair chair formed near Adrien, and he took a seat in it.

Another chair formed near Lori, and she sat as well. "Ollie, would you like to fly in your own space ship? For this mission?"

"Would I?!"

"Lucky sod!" Cory said to him.

"Okay," Lori nodded. "Both of you?" She glanced at Ella who seemed to agree. "Okay. Gene, would you show them to Alexander and Bessie? Ollie to Alexander, and Cory to Bessie?"

"Oh! This is too much! What about me?" Gadin said.

"I'll watch after you," Marie walked over to Lori. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Lori looked to Marie, gave her a small hug, then glanced to Gadin for a second. "He may need you."

"Okay." Marie walked back to Gadin. "You want to go have sex again? It'll take your mind off this."

For the first time in almost 12,000 Earth years, the great mother ship began to move. From outside, in space, it was undetectable. The exterior of the ship wasn't so much "black" as it absorbed most of the electromagnetic energy that it received, so it appeared without reflection, dark.

As it moved, stars winked out as it obscured them, winked back in as it moved past.

NORAD, Peterson Air Force Base, Colorado:

"Has it moved yet?" The general asked.

The tech sergeant scanned his consoles. "Sir, I can't even tell where it is to start with."

A moving sliver of light opened in the blackness of space. Two flying disks emerged, took flanking positions beside the mother ship.

"Lets give them warning?" Lori asked Adrien and Ella. "We aren't there, yet, but what if governments knew we were coming? Make things better or worse?"

Adrien and Ella appeared to consider.

"Don't telegraph your moves to the enemy," Colonel Wood said.

"But they're not the enemy," Hanah said.

"We're moving?" Gadin said, a little pale.

Marie put her arms around Gadin's neck and leaned on him.

With a quick glance at Adrien and Ella, Lori turned to the HUD. "Gene, please zig us 'up' so we're coming in from above the moon's orbital plane, and then send a signal, like a transponder. Light us up for them."

"Working," Gene said in her surreal, intersex voice.

"Display, please." Lori said. The HUD dropped its 2-D representation and adopted 3-D, rotating under Lori's hands, to show them rapidly moving 'higher' to re-angle an approach to Earth as if not from a Lagrange point.

"Emitting something like 'radar,'" Gene said. "Lights on. E.M. absorption Off.

Bessie's HUD suddenly displayed a representation of Gene.

"God!" Cory shouted.

NORAD:

"SIR! I've got them!"

"Where are they?" the general asked.

The sergeant worked controls to provide a 2-D map of nearby space, showing a large dot for the ship with a projected path to Earth.

"Where are they going?"

The sergeant's display pinpointed—

"The White Sea?" The general was disgusted. "North of Moscow? The commie Reds!"

"That path," Lori said to Colonel Wood, "will help us miss satellites in Lower Earth Orbit."

"You can't dodge out of the way?"

"I don't dodge," Gene told him. "I go. I move. Sometimes I sway, but I do not dodge."

"I'm afraid she's too big, Wood," Lori said.

"How big?"

"Have you seen 'Close Encounters of the Third Kind'?" Lori asked.

Gadin nodded several times.

Lori wrinkled her nose with a smile.

Gene answered him. "That was me when I was five."

Tracking commands were alarmed in numerous other countries. People jumped. Orders shouted. Directives flew.

Air forces were put on alert.

Fighters were scrambled.

Missiles were made ready.

"I'm sensing the area is hot," Gene said on her bridge.

"Compensate," Ella said. "Don't hurt anyone, but keep it to a minimum, please?"

"You going to be okay with this?" Lori asked Gene.

The 3-D HUD made a grimace in the middle for a second. "I don't need 'atmosphere.'"

Cory in Bessie asked, "I need a chair."

Bessie formed him a chair.

He sat.

"Can you put your HUD on Estella's television back home?"

"She can," Alexander said in his thick Scottish accent. "But she is not there. Tracking her phone says she's at the market, just now, probably buying hair care products."

Oliver sat in his own chair in Alexander. "Is there anything you can't do?"

"I can't get you to stop asking stupid questions," Alexander said.

"You don't like me!" Oliver said.

"I don't like—" Alexander hesitated. "No, actually I do. If I were human, I'd go for you."

NORAD:

The sergeant marked in alarm for the General. "Sir! The blip is moving at an alarming speed!"

The general studied the display.

The major next to him asked, "Should we prepare for an eventuality, sir?"

"No," the general said. "Let it come."

Estella had just put eggs into her shopping cart, when her phone rang. She picked it up and answered the call.

"Hello, Honey," Cory said. "What are you up to?"

"About five-six." Estella seemed pleased. "Where are you?"

"Oh, I'm in a flying saucer in outer space somewhere over Russia at the moment. Maybe a hundred thousand miles up at the moment."

Estella gripped the shopping cart. "What?!"

"Yeah!" Cory said. "I can really get it up! What's surprising about that? You saw 'em pick me up!"

Estella seemed weak at the knees.

Two other ladies by the yogurt came to her assistance.

"Hey," Cory said calmly. "Turn skype on your phone."

Cadence Hemsley sat in the Oval Office before a large television monitor with General Beck of the U.S.A.F.; Harold Trim, Director of the F.B.I.; Eugene Liebner, N.S.A.; Jimmy Duffet, Chief of Staff; Doreen Washington, Press Secretary; and Georgina Wells, Secretary of State; and Dr. Tina Louise Augustine, President of Westech.

The butler brought them tea.

"Thank you for having me, Madam President," Dr. Augustine said, 20 years old, new to being female, with a "T" on her left temple. "You have such a lovely home."

Cadence smiled warmly. "Well, thank you, sweetie."

"Ain't this a great program?" General Beck noted. "Got any pizza?"

Jimmy Duffet saluted him with one finger.

The earth's terminator—the division between day and night—cut through Europe, Greece, the Mediterranean, and south through the Saharah Desert. The oceans were brilient blue, with faded green and brown where there was land. It was morning.

"There is a satellite in the way, Lori," Gene said. "Moving, closing, azimuth one two Zero degrees." She displayed it on the HUD for Lori.

"Can we 'sway' to the side?" Lori asked.

"A little."

The huge mother ship's course altered slightly.

Bessie and Alexander hugged her flanks per norm, but the huge satellite, barely missing Gene's hull by inches, bore down on Alexander with alarming speed.

Alexander dodged. "Watch it!"

A little smile appeared briefly on Gene's HUD.

"Can you miss everything in LEO?" Wood asked.

"Sorry," Lori answered for Gene. If you count small items, there are more than 21,000 orbital bits above 10 centimeters, and if you count those smaller than one, there are over 100,000,000."

"What do you do with those?" the nerous Gadin asked. "Will they pierce us like bullets? I saw 'Gravity.'"

Lori shook her head, turning back to her displays. "We let them disintegrate on contact." She added, distracted. "Like little clouds of dust."

Gene began to slow her approach through LEO and into Earth's atmosphere, though not slow enough to prevent apparent flame around the three craft.

Arcing over the White Sea, the huge ship and her two shuttles headed south at an altitude of about 20,000 feet, mean sea level.

"I'm going over Moscow," Gene said to all ships and persons. "I realize we're in a hurry to stop a war, but we also need to prevent the next one. I think they need to see this."

"Launch the fighters!" the Russian general orderd. "Get the missiles online!"

Russian fighters take off from a runway.

It was a busy day in Red Square, the centeral square of Moscow. Major streets originated there and webbed out over the city.

A mother and her three children walked—

"Mother!" The boy pointed.

"Gene," Lori asked, "Can you give us a view of the city beneath us?"

The huge 3-D screen switched back to 2-D, as if a monstrous, 180 degree, semi-circular HDTV.

A ship the size of a city slowly crept overhead the Square at an antitude of about one thousand feet, which—because of the gargantuan size of the ship—appeared to be brushing the building tops. It was roughly circular in design, perhaps twenty miles in diameter and not more than a mile in height. Several features were blocky as if for a purpose. There were some spires in the center, running straight up for thousands of feet.

People screamed in the Square and started to run, when a booming announcement came from the overhead ship.

Ella spoke on the bridge in fluent Russian. "People of Moscow. Do not fear us."

Ella's voice boomed out the bottom of the mother ship. "We're the Ahleth who have provided the transmuters. There is no danger. Please: there is no danger. We're not here to hurt you. What we're doing is letting Putin know to stop killing people—and while we're at it, why do you let him stay in power? You're the reason he gets away with all this sh— Stuff."

Hanah laughed on the bridge.

"If you're going to live for a very long time, we hope you will all some day learn."

Slowly, the mother ship turned on its axis as it accelerated faster to the south.

Russian fighters approached the mother ship, when suddenly their engines quit without fanfare. Pilots ejected as their planes fell.

"All you do it shut off the electricity," Gene said. "like 'Day the Earth Stood Still,' I think it was. Gort!"

Gene brought the mother ship over populated areas of Ukraine, without a message played.

In short course, all fighting stopped. People stared at the three ships above them.

### CHAPTER

### 30

The Oval Office had a larger monitor brought in. Cadence and several others watched the feed from various sources play.

The riot had frightened the entire city of Jerusalem. People were beaten. A man stabbed another man, until yet another man, standing with his back to the Western Wall took an AK-47 fired a lengthy volley over the heads of the crowd.

"Where are the Israeli Defense Forces?" Cadence demanded.

"They're everywhere!" Georgina Wells said. "Spread out thin. It's erupting everywhere at once—and not just Israel. It's through out the Middle East. Look."

Georgina took the remote and began to change channels, all feeds from various sources from onsite crews to satellites.

The video on their monitor showed the violence.

"Can we send in arms?" Cadence looked to her advisors.

"Where?" General Beck asked.

"Maybe Lori's group—" Georgina began.

"Lets go to the lower bridge," Ella said to everyone.

Ella got up to walk, and everyone followed her.

In the city of Jerusalem, in areas surrounding the Dome of the Rock, hand-to-hand fighting grew. People threw Molotov coctails and screamed insults. Commanders shouted to people with megaphones. Police tried to keep some people back with barricades and water canons, sometimes firing live rounds into crowds. At the perimeter, tanks rolled into position.

"Die! Get out of my way! Die!"

A man was knocked to the ground, and another man kicked the back of his head to dive his face into the dirt.

Fighting was erupting everywhere.

In Gene's observation bay, through the center bottom of the ship, everyone could see the chaos below.

From every quarter, people stopped to gawk in fear at the gargantuan ship over the edge of the city, moving slowly towad the Dome, a mere hundred feet above buildings.

"There are multiple aircraft in the vicinity," Gene said in her ominous voice, throughout the observation bay.

"Please take care of that," Lori said.

Without delay, aircraft within thirty miles began to lose power and fall out of the sky. Aircraft who happened to turn back, outside the perimeter, regained their power, but aircraft who came closer lost power altogether. Pilots ejected. Planes crashed.

One plane had fired a missile at the mother ship, but the missile was re-directed into an empty hillside.

The mother ship glided silently over Jerusalem, centering over the top of the Dome of the Rock, about a hundred feet above it. The city was eclipsed, entirely in shadow.

"That'll show 'em," General Beck said, I the Oval Office, watching T.V.

Tanks which had been moving closer toward the fighting ceased to roll.

The few lights used in the morning time faded.

Automobiles stopped moving, engines died.

Megaphones quit working.

People stopped their fighting to look at the massive ship overhead. Some ran. Some stared. Some began to pray.

"Stabilized," Gene said.

In the lower observation bay, they were looking directly down past their feet over the top of the golden Dome of the Rock.

Adrien looked to Ella and Lori, then to the 1st Centuries.

"What in God's name are we doing here?" Gadin asked.

"Exactly," Adrien said. "This has gone on too long."

Lori and Ella looked resolute.

All others looked worried, mystified.

"Dramatic pause," Gene said. "Sound effects."

People below shuttered as a deep, throbbing, graduating series of bass tones, from every direction, subtly vibrated everything beneath the ship.

"Lights," Gene said.

Various places on the bottom side of the ship began to glow until they could be seen distinctly as lights—with emphasis on the area above the Dome.

People shouted from the ground below.

"It's God!"

"He's come back for the faithful!"

"Lord! Take me!"

Gene began to rotate the ship 180 degrees clockwise in the horizontal plane, putting south to north and north to south.

"Why you doing that?" Lori asked.

"It looks cool," Gene answered.

"And it'll make 'em dizzy. Please don't," Ella ordered.

The ship stopped rotating.

All stared out the clear bottom of the observation bay at the scene below.

"What are we gonna do now?" Cory asked.

People below watched as the center of the bottom of the ship opened. An intense beam of light—thick, as if it were composed of milk—shone through the opening, straight down in a column, illuminating the Dome, turning it white and reflecting outward 360 degrees from there back up to the underside of the ship and to surrounding buildings.

In a few seconds, the beam dimmed, becoming barely noticeable—as a human figure appeared, slowly descending within it from the ship.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaah!" Gadin cried as he floated slowly down within the beam of light in his bathrobe. "What's happening? Stop killing! Stop it!" His voice was oddly amplified so everyone within miles could hear him. He looked up while he descended: "What do you want of me!" He looked around himself in a panic. His heart beat very fast. His feet were completely unsupported. It appeared nothing was holding him up, yet he floated down, slowly, centered in the beam, apparently under control. "God help me!" he cried.

Gadin's hands went out in a subconscious reflex to find some form of support, but there was none.

Just the light.

"Look!" a merchant in the street exclaimed to his family. "Look! Is it God?"

"He's talking to God!"

"It looks like an angel!"

"Jesus!" Gadin said in exclamation. "What the f—"

Gadin stopped to look at everyone. He floated, stationary in the air, about 15 feet avove the Dome of the Rock. The whole city was spread out before him. It was daytime beyond the edge of the ship, 10 miles away. There was no wind.

The group in the Oval office watched.

General Beck's hand dipped into a bowl or more popcorn.

People stood around Gadin in shock at the sight.

"Oh! No! Don't fear," Gadin said to them with his India-California accent. "It's just me. I'm coming down to talk with you!"

"A prophet!"

"An Angel of God come to give us a message!"

"Tell the Arabs to leave us alone!"

"Tell the Jews to leave us alone!"

"Tell that Lori bitch to take her machines and leave!"

Gadin crossed his arms and looked scornfully at them. "Lori? You mean the one who's trying to keep you alive? What are you talking about?"

The crowd pondered. "What—who are you?" someone finally asked.

"I'm Gadin Malhotra," he said.

"Who the hell is that?" someone else asked.

"I teach computer sci at Stanford—or I was until Lori—"

"Demon America!"

"Blasphemy!"

"No! Like Lynn Conway!" Gadin shouted to them over their cries.

"You mean you're a male to female trans person who furthered the science but who was fired from I.B.M.?"

"No! I mean a professor!"

"So are you from India?"

"Originally—"

"So are you saying that Hinduism is the best religion and that Shiva is God?"

"No! Love is the best religion!" Gadin's brow wrinkled in apparent conflict between his nervousness and effort to understand. He felt below him with a foot, but there was no floor there.

On board the ship, Cory looked over to Lori. "A natural leader."

Estella stood in the meat department of the market and watched it all on her iPhone 6 Plus, with a crowd of other shoppers around her.

"Why did God pick an Indian as an angel?" a lady behind Estella said.

"He's not holy!" Estella countered.

"Well, he's in white!"

"You get down from there!" an angry man shouted. "This is the spot where Abraham ascended into heaven!"

"That was Isaac!" someone else said.

"Jacob!"

"It was Muhammad!" several others shouted as well as they could.

"It was where Noah built the ark! My brother was an elephant on the arc!" a tourist shouted.

Someone way in the back shouted. "We can hear your voice magically from a great distance, Oh Great Gadin!"

"Uh," Gadin said. "Speakers on the ship?"

"What religion are you?"

"Me?" Gadin asked. "I don't know. I think Zamboni or something— No, Zarathustran—Zoroastrian! That's what it is!"

"Are you stupid?" someone asked.

"I'm hanging up here in the air, and it's my first time! You try it! I just went into space and wasn't killed, and they took my clothes—" He showed them his bath robe, but in so doing he flashed everyone.

"He's trying to breed with earthlings!" someone on the ground shouted.

"Sex maniacs in space!" yelled another.

Several people whisteled at Gadin.

He yanked his robe shut.

The ladies in the store gasped.

Two of them smiled.

"This is a good program," General Beck said.

"Would you like another ice cream?" Cadence asked him.

Putin snapped off his T.V.

"Zoro-astrian in Latin means 'Zoro came from the stars'!" Someone near the Dome shouted.

" _So Zoro is God!"_ The man looked to others around him for confirmation.

"Well," Gadin said. "He fought corruption and tried to help others—"

Gadin looked up and shouted to the ship. "What do you want of me?"

"He's praying again!" another man said. "He's asking God for help!"

Adrien stuck his head into the opening at the bottom of the ship and shouted loudly enough for everyone to hear, "Okay. I'll come down."

"The Second Coming!"

"He should be so happy!"

"She should be so happy!"

Adrien appeared at the top of the beam, dressed in a white robe, just below the mother ship, and began his slow descent to stand beside Gadin in the air.

Adrien's manner was grave, solemn.

He 'stepped' forward, positioning himself just ahead of Gadin, and looked slowly at people on the earth below.

When people settled down, Adrien held out his arms in a gesture of peace. When he began to speak, his voice amplified as had been Gadin's—subtly louder, from every direction, so that all could easily hear.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," he said. "Fear not. It is okay. People, everywhere, we are part of you, and you are part of us. Gadin was born here on Earth, and I was reborn here on Earth. We are all humans, now.

"You all know who we Ahleth are. We bring life, and with that, all who desire, may become trans like us." He showed them his "T" on his left temple. "Nothing is going to happen here. You are not at risk. We are peaceful. But I thought in light of things, maybe I could talk with you a little and share a few things."

"You can't be here! It's blasphemy!" someone shouted from below.

Adrien shook his head. "No, no it's not blasphemy. You see— I think some things we," he indicated the ship above him, "have done here in millennia past have, perhaps, been a little embellished. I will explain." Adrien took a few seconds to gather his thoughts.

"Have any of you ever tried that little experiment where you have a room with 20 people in it? One person says something to the person beside him, who passes it on, who passes it on—and by the time it gets to the other end, it's completely different? What started out as 'People should care more for each other' becomes a story about who makes the rules to decide what is right or wrong. Well, in our case, mix in a few ancient sightings of one of our shuttle craft, some levitation, and a transmuter, and you have the three largest religions in this area."

Adrien paused a second to let that soak in.

"Thousands of years ago, there were no universities in which to learn the art of reporting, of journalism, of writing—and in fact, for most people, there was no writing, most of the time.

"We—Ahleth—have tried, unsuccessfully, to come out to you here a few times, and it has always ended in disaster. If someone caught us using a transmuter—you all know what those are, now—it became resurrection, a religion with people buried in sarcophagi, like in Egypt, from where they can achieve eternal life. If we healed someone it was seen as divine. If someone saw us get into a ship, it became an ascention, again divine.

"I wanted to let you know that we have come and gone in our shuttles several times over these 100,000 years that you've learned we've been here, and you have tried to understand us within the framework of your cultural system, every time, which meant—no journalism, and certainly no understanding—unfathomed stories were told and passed down through ages until someone finally wrote them down. Those things sometimes seemed codified."

Adrien paused a second.

"With those, you three major religions have deemed this place the 'Holy Land,' and when I come back what do I see? Fighting. Beatings. Hatred. Killing. Fascism—screaming at each other that life has to be a certain way because that's what 'god' wants, or you shall die in the name of those mis-told stories from millennia ago."

Someone fired a rifle at Adrien.

Gene stopped the bullet in mid-air and levitated the man about fifty feet.

Adrien, without anger, indicated the man who screamed, "Blasphemy!"

Adrien shook his head and looked up. "Gene, could you bring him here, please?"

The shooter was floated to a position right in front of Adrien.

The man appeared to be in a panic, his feet trying to find purchase, his eyes moving around.

"Sir," Adrien asked. "Touch my hand."

The man flailed violently trying to grab onto something.

Adrien stood calmly before the man, serene, with his right hand outstretched. "Sir, please: Hold my hand."

" _Who are you!"_ the man screamed.

Adrien kept his right hand out for a shake, yet brought up his left, palm out, to point at the man's heart. His eyes half-closed.

The man began to calm.

"Sir," Adrien said. "Please."

Slowly the man reached over and gripped Adrien's hand and became instantly calmer.

"Sir, my name is Adrien."

"Adrien."

"Yes." Adrien looked into the man's eyes. He put his left hand on the man's head for a moment, then asked him, "It's good to know you."

The man reached up with his other hand, gripped Adrian's right hand in both hands—then he knelt before Adrian.

"No, no," Adrien said to him, lifting him back into a standing posture. "I'm just a man."

"You're God?"

"No. This," Adrien indicated them, floating, the ship, "is technology."

A group holding others at gun point below lowered their weapons as they watched.

Though Adrien and the man were speaking quietly, everyone could hear every word.

"You're not an angel?" the man asked.

Adrien shook his head. "No. Feel my hand."

The man did.

"Feel my face."

The man did.

"It's smooth," said the man.

"I just shaved."

"Why? God says we should have a beard."

Adrien looked down a little then back at the man, shook his head. "You mean what people wrote."

To everyone, Adrien addressed, "Has anyone ever known someone to misquote them? To misrepresent them? To say they did something they didn't do?

"We used to inhabit this area, several thousand years ago, doing what we do. Sometimes some of our ways leaked out. Sometimes we tried to teach, to share." He looked back at the man. "Sometimes people misunderstood us—but we should also have known better. For our part in that, I apologize."

The man looked at Adrien in question.

Adrien indicated the ship above. "With conventions you use, you might think I'm the captain of this ship, here. I've been around since, I suppose, before man was man. My first officer, if you will, is a woman named Ella. When we used to inhabit this area, we were known as Athden and Efeth."

Adrien glanced at Ella, who grimaced.

"Uh-oh," Ella said.

"So?" the man asked.

Adrien looked to the masses around them. "So we told stories, and we learned later they'd become—

"Adam and Eve?" the man asked.

Adrien didn't move other than to slightly tighten his grasp of the man's hands.

Awareness went through the crowd like a wave accompanied by everything from whispers to shouts.

"Oh my God!"

"Adam and Eve!"

"They're fiction!"

" _THAT's fiction_!"

Adrien let go the man's hand who then stood with him. They looked at the crowd together.

"Who else?" a man screamed from in front of the Western Wall.

Adrien glanced at Lori who had lowered her head.

"Lori, who you all know," Adrien said, "Lori's name was Lorleth." Adrien smiled a little. "She always had her own mind, but a good one."

"Lilleth?" the man beside Adrien asked him.

Adrien smiled.

A ripple went through the crowd.

"You kidding me?" the man asked.

Someone from below yelled, "From the Bible? She's evil!"

Adrien responded to him. "No. She's saved millions of lives in just the last three months—and done a thousand other good thigns for humanity since she's been here, some 12,000 years.

"This illustrates what I've said. Things earlier people saw, things we talked about with them, were distorted by—not even intentionally distorted sometimes, but by misunderstanding initially, and then by the process of telling a story over and over before it ever got written down—then sometimes badly, then edited with other things in mind—until finally a belief forms that is based on those stories, not on what really happened.

"And then those stories are used as a reason to kill people.

"If ever there was a reason not to kill, this is one."

"Do you believe in God?" someone from below asked loudly.

"I don't know about that," Adrien said. "I know I'm about 200,000 years old, in earth terms. I've seen more planets and cultures than I can count, and what I see is people, if you will. Different forms, different shapes, different species, but all people. Sometimes they're good and make life valuable; sometimes they're not and make life unbearable.

"That is what I see," Adrien said. "Would you like to go back down there?" He asked the man beside him.

The man indicated okay, as if he would if Adrien wished.

Slowly, the man floated back down to where he was.

Adrien continued. "What I see in the hearts of people is usually good. It's in the heart of people everywhere, to want sustenance and survival, happiness, to have children, to want to avoid pain.

"The need to control," Adrien said, "was born in earlier times when it helped someone survive, or when a leader needed to help his group survive.

"The need to dominate was an aberration and was born of that need to control.

"Suspiciousness of difference was born of survival when indiscrimination resulted in someone getting ill or dying, as in from a food or a different group who wanted to dominate.

"But things have evoled. No longer existing are the circumstances that spawned those qualities—where once they helped humanity to survive, now, with the development of greater weapons and complex forms of social organization, they could result in humanity's destruction. And not just for a few, but for all.

"Now, we on Earth are blessed if we are kind.

"Now we are blessed if we can look into another person's mind and see who they are.

"Now we are blessed if we can be gentle with each other, for we hope to live together for a long time, don't we?

"Now we are blessed if we strive to grow.

"Now we are blessed if we can show mercy to others—"

A ripple began in the crowd below and grew like a wave.

"Oh Good God Almighty," General Beck said in the Oval office, dropping his pizza on the carpet.

The in the meat section of the market behind Estella gasped.

"He's Jesus effing Christ!"

Putin sat in his office, threw his coffee across the room, and slapped his forehead.

"Jesus!?" people shouted from below, but their manner was—

"No," Adrien said. "You say that I am, but no. I'm not. Please."

When the crowd settled down to a dull roar, Adrien spoke again. Gene raised the volume a little, subtly. "I am just a person, flesh and blood, human being, as are you. I've lived a long time because we've used transmuters to regenerate. It is not religion, and I am not divine. I'm just a man. This is another example of old stories amplified. Things that happened were, fundamentally, no different than here today.

"I'm hoping this time, with us being recorded here, today, with the internet, cell phones, that this story will be shared as-is.

"We are only people, here today, and we were only people then.

"Look at us, together," Adrien asked, "at what could merit this violence?

Adrien looked at everyone on the ground and into movie cameras.

"Gene, can you bring the two shuttle craft here, please?"

Gene's surreal voice sounded throughout the area, "Sure."

Alexander and Bessie flew under the mother ship to float nearby Adrien. "These two craft are shuttles. We use them to travel in, sometimes, like an airplane, I guess. Yes, they're 'flying saucers,' but they're just a conveyance with a few crowd control abilities such as we've demonstrated in a few places here today. Alexander and Bessie, those within, would you please, now that you've been seen here together with us on world-wide television, travel around the world to violent hot-spots and do as we have done here today. Calm people. Don't be violent but stop violence. Remind them of the greater world we live in, the greater universe."

The two shuttles departed, one to the east, one to the west.

Adrien regarded one last time the people around him. He spread his hands a little in a welcoming gesture.

"Do not fear, everyone. Be at peace. Love each other, is the lesson I've gained in these last 200,000 years. Ends which favor the few cannot thrive, because of the needs of the many. Ideologies which require a strict adherence cannot thrive, because everyone is an individual. Systems which favor the rich and take advantage of the poor cannot thrive, because all people are valued."

Adrien paused once more.

He motioned to Gene above, and the entire floor of the observation deck descended to an area just behind him. It held everyone else aboard the ship.

"I sent Gadin down here first," Adrien smiled, "because I thought his manner would help to unpressure the situation." He smiled at the crowd. "Because I think he's funny. Because on top of my first message of learning to love each other, is my second of three, and that is, don't take things so seriously. Don't hurt other people. A person can 'believe' anything, he can know it deep in his soul as certainly as we're floating here. But nothing in that is a reason to hurt other people.

"All people are different from all others, yet we're all human. Each person's life is as valuable as the next, and with that, I my third message I ask you accept each other regardless of difference.

"The world has over seven billion people in it, and it simply is not possible for everyone to be the same, have the same ideology or religion. The fight to corral all people under one ideology is what causes friction. Diversity does not cause it. People seeking inclusion do not create discord, but the effort to prevent them does.

"Without this very concept—accepting people regardless of difference—nothing we do here will survive. This is the basis of love and human respect, without which there can be no future."

Adrien's gaze to the world was kind yet stern—a loving intimation that nonetheless carried the weight of warning.

Everyone behind him slowly moved forward on the platform to stand with him.

### CHAPTER

### 31

At the 16 multiplex, people flooded into the bathroom of their choice. "Yea!"

The bathroom monitor tossed his whistle over his shoulder and walked off the job.

* * *

The shuttle craft floated over a small town in the Syrian Civil War. A battle was evident below.

"There's a good pocket?" Oliver said on the bridge. His 180 degree HUD's view was brilliant, the war vivid.

"What kinds of things can you do, Alexander?"

"You mean as a ship from up here?"

"No! As my new boyfriend!"

Alexander's happy eyes flashed on the HUD, quickly replaced by a tactical view. "I— We—"

The shuttle floated slowly over the conflict, casting a shadow that moved like an omen over people of both sides. People stopped fighting long enough to look up.

"This is one thing," Alexander said.

A holoscreen perhaps a mile wide coalesced in the air beside the shuttle, blocking out the sun's rays through it, and began to play Gene's video of Adrian's speech.

* * *

Bessie raced at high speed southwest to Nigeria, Cameroon, Niger, and Chad to the Boko Hiram insurgency, flying over hot spots at low altitude at a transonic Mach 1.1. People fell to the ground as the sonic boom hit them.

"This all you can do, Bessie?" Cory asked.

"Fast enough for a boom; slow enough for them to see this space ship flying overhead."

"Aw, yeah, but you can do better?" Cory asked.

The shuttle flew to another hotspot faster, though a little higher off the ground "This is Mach 3," Bessie said. "The SR-71s cruising speed."

Bessie's HUD indicated a missile launch, targeted.

Bessie sped up. The monitor showed the shuttle racing over Cameroon, other hot spots, at Mach 3.5. "This is the speed of the SR-71 when it outran missiles." The missile behind them lagged behind until it ran out of fuel and fell to the earth, exploding on an empty hillside.

"How fast can you go, Bessie?" Cory asked.

"Um, you mean in an atmosphere?"

Cory nodded.

"That depends on my altitude. So fast we'd look like a horizontal meteor, at most altitudes, and in space— I've never clocked it, but I'm registered to fly, in your units, at about 510,013 miles per hour in space, where there is no resistance of note."

"Wow! That means it'd take you 30 minutes to reach the moon!"

"Because I'm a shuttle. Gene is faster, as you might guess. She's for interstellar flight. I ride her; she goes fast."

Bessie arced into the sky, turning sharply toward Sudan for the South Sudanese Civil War. There, she flew over hotspots each at a slow 14 miles per hour, at near building top heights.

People on the ground stared. Some were very irate, shooting at the shuttle. Bullets stopped their flight toward the shuttle about fifty feet from it, fell to the ground.

"I can calm them a little," Bessie said.

People on the ground softened, looked tired.

"How do you do that?" Cory asked.

"We're an exploratory team," Bessie explained. "Going places, we never know when we start what we'll find. We need to be able to come and go in peace."

"But—?"

"It's an energy transmitted that slows movement on a cellular level without decreasing temperature."

"What?"

"You're a biologist, Cory. The quantum physics of it are not your field."

* * *

Alexander flew at about 150,000 feet east to the War in North-West Pakistan, descending at the last minute in a fighter's dive to hover over a village.

"People! Stop fighting!" Alexander sounded out the bottom of the ship in two languages! Have you not heard?"

The sound's fidelity out the bottom of the ship was impressive. People stopped to listen to his story.

* * *

High over New York City, covering half of it, sitting aboard Gene's mother ship bridge, Jane Hamilton of W.K.T.G.-T.V. in New York ran the list on the Ahleth, or would have if she could speak. "Uh— Uh!"

Adrien looked at Ella.

Lori laughed.

Wood and Hanah smiled, but tried to keep their composure.

Marie told the reporter, "Speak!" She elbowed Gadin.

Jane looked around the mother ship's bridge and started to vocalize without words. "Aaaaaaaah!"

Adrien reached out and touched her hand. "It's okay, Jane."

* * *

"JESUS IS GAY," the press ran.

* * *

Bessie and Cory flew west over the Atlantic at a couple hundred thousand feet—enough so the blue Earth below was very close, yet the sky above was pitch black.

Cory was dancing to himself on the bridge and yelled, "Yeah! We'll stop the killing!"

Bessie's face appeared on her HUD in a humorous, mock disapproval. "You might dance better with some music?"

"Yeah!" Cory said. "'Choo Choo Ch'Boogie'! Manhattan Transfer! Rip it loose!"

There was a 2.873 second pause before the song began to play.

Cory's dancing markedly improved.

* * *

Jane held her hand over her heart and laughed.

The cameraman caught it all.

"Oh!" she said. "I'm on the mother ship!"

"It's just Gene," came the surrealistic voice of the ship's artificial intelligence.

"Gene! Of course! I'm 'on Gene'?"

"Good enough. It's nice to have you."

Jane leaned forward in her seat toward the ship's massive HUD and asked almost conspiratorially: "How do you hold this huge ship up?"

"Magic," Gene said with a HUD grin.

* * *

Bessie buzzed a hotspot in the Mexican Drug war at 2000 feet. The sonic boom knocked some people to the ground.

Cory watched it on her HUD, dancing with himself expertly.

Bessie slowed them a little, looked ominous, and chilled the air slightly. She played Alexander's voice out the bottom of the ship accompanied by sound effects worthy of a Hollywood studio.

Ascending back into the air, Cory looked like he had an idea. "Bessie, can I pick a destination?"

* * *

"You know," Alexander said. "I have an idea. What do you think?"

The Vice President of the United States walked, laughing, down the exit ramp from Alexander's shuttle craft and onto the South Lawn of the White House.

Alexander secured and rose quickly into the sky, nearly straight up, though a little east.

"What's so funny?" Cadence asked from the door of the Oval Office.

The shuttle descended low over Moscow.

"I've got him," Alexander said to himself.

"How can you do it?" Alexader asked himself, imitating Oliver's voice.

Alexander said in his own, sarcastic version of Sean Connery's voice, "The same way I'd retrieve someone if they were disabled on excursion."

Alexander approached a tall building and hovered with the edge of his disk two feet from the glass walls of the building.

People inside became drowsy, all except one.

Alexander's hatch opened, and a sonic vibration shattered the glass of the building's wall.

"Putin!" Alexander boomed ominously as the voice of God to the impotent man. "I appear to be malfunctioning! COME HERE!"

Screaming for sleeping people to help him, Putin floated three inches off the office floor, out of the building, and into the saucer.

Alexander flew rapidly to the southeast at about 100,000 feet, related his intentions to the angry Putin.

"How can you do that?" Putin demanded from the center of the small bridge of the shuttle.

"The same way I'd repair someone hurt on excursion."

Putin suddenly rotated in the air, a bed forming under him. He went limp, then unconscious. He morphed into the body of a 12-year-od black girl.

She woke up screaming. "What the hell have you done!"

The bed disappeared, Putin was returned vertical.

"Not much," Alexander explained. "Considering what I have to work with."

"What am I?" Putin demanded, her voice the weak girl's compared to the strong man's.

"You're still old and feeble!" Alexander said. "I don't have the ability to rejuvenate. But you're a girl, now."

" _Poshjol ty!"_

"Little girls don't talk that way! You need to be taught a lesson," Alexander said. "It's called empathy, something you lack."

Alexander's HUD displayed navigation screens, and at the bottom left of the screen there was a square set aside with one red dot on it, blinking.

Ukraine was still a hot zone. People were shooting at each other in a square.

As alexander approached, people around them calmed, relaxed to the point of sleep.

Then Alexander settled onto a courtyard and opened his hatch. The young girl Putin floated out of the hatch onto lawn, apparently telling Alexander what she thought of everything with circuits throughout the solar system. "What am I supposed to do!" she screamed.

" _Lash the boats together and wait until the fleet arrives!"_

* * *

"Okay," Jane said to Adrien, getting into the swing of things. "You were Adam, and you," she said, pointing to Ella, "were Eve? Adam and Eve?"

"Uh, well," Ella began to answer, "Yes, as you think of it like that, but those were legends—"

Jane thought. "Genesis 5:2: 'Male and Female He created them.' Ahleth are both sexes, intersex." She leaned forward in her seat again. "You were Athden and Efeth, and your names got changed in the '20 People' hand-me-down stories thing?"

"Yes," Adrien said. "But we're Adrien and Ella, now."

"So that's my question," Jane said. "If you were Adam and Eve then, are you still?"

"Adrien and Ella are our salient personalities, now."

"Why?" Jane asked.

"Because we're 'now,'" Ella said. "There is evolution in all things."

* * *

Alexander raided the office of a Dr. Karen Zucker in Arkansas, changed her into a 10-year-old boy and sat him down in a foster holme in southern Mississippi.

"Eff you, Alexander!" he screamed.

"Maybe you want reparative therapy to correct your gender to a boy's! You are a little boy! Anyone can see that! ACT LIKE ONE!"

* * *

"Richard BAYLEY!" Alexander's voice boomed."

He sat the blond woman down in a small town in Texas.

* * *

Estella walked out of the store with her groceries, her phone still playing Ahleth feed.

The ladies were all laughing at the feed on her phone.

Vivian squealed, "Ah! Someone kidnapped Putin again!"

The video showed, in overhead P.O.V., a 76-year-old Russian trans woman, red-faced, spitting, pounding on the ground with her fists, screaming something not quite audible to whatever mike was in the area. She had a sign on her back, of which she was obviously unaware, "I can't marry in Russia."

"Putin is such an as—"

"Don't say that!"

"Okay, then he's a di—"

"Ladies!" Estella said sardonically, remembering her crowd control. "Decorum!"

Estella put her phone to sleep. The ladies hung around, chatting about things they'd seen on her phone. She began putting her groceries in the back of her new VW Golf clean diesel when the saucer settled over the parking lot to her left.

Everyone gawked and gasped, instinctively formed a circle.

"What a car!"

"Space ship, Marge!" Vivian said. "Look up!"

Vivian hung on Estella's arm like a groupie at a Lady Gaga concert.

The hatch opened in the shuttle, and Cory emerged.

"Oh my God!"

"God no!"

"Not God!"

Estella put her free hand on her hip and smiled at him.

"Hello everyone!" Cory said with one of his T.V. show smiles. "Human being, here. Trans person a star."

"Cory Peck!" someone called.

"That's right!" Cory said. "Hello, ladies!"

He stepped over to his wife. "Hey, Estella. I need to zip over to Asia a bit. Wanna come?"

Estella took about one second to think, walked into the shuttle with Cory, and from the door, tossed her keys to Vivian. "Put my stuff in the fridge, please?"

* * *

Bessie raced west toward Indonesia in Low Earth Orbit. Estella's eyes were transfixed on Bessie's exquisite HUD, the earth turning beneath them.

Estella was enchanted with the shuttle. "Bessie, what would happen if you did some aerobatics?"

"You would never know," Bessie said. "Inertial dampers."

"Really? Like—"

The HUD showed the earth spinning in front of them, moving in a circle over the HUD from left over the top to the right, then across the bottom to the left again.

"What?" Cory asked.

"That was a roll," Bessie said.

Estella looked at her husband. "Never felt a thing."

Bessie's large eyes on the HUD seemed pleased.

"Bess, can we have some Glenn Miller? 'Moonlight Seranade'?"

Glenn's soft music began to play.

Cory took Estella by the hand, his other arm around her waist, and began to sway back and forth. He kissed her softly on the lips and asked her, "Stell, you want to join the 100 Mile High club?"

Estella's eyes widened. "Here?"

"We're both astronauts."

Her eyes glanced at the HUD.

Large eyes smiled at them.

"Bess, can we get some privacy?"

The shuttle flew high over the pacific, rolling, dodging, bouncing—dancing with her humans to the music.

* * *

"No, Mommy! Please?" The eight-year-old girl begged. She was crying. Her hands were constantly on her face. "I can't, Mommy! I'm a girl. Please don't make me go in there! He makes me feel so ugly!"

"George! You're a boy," her mother asserted, "and we'll have no more of this girl nonsense! The doctor is trying to fix you!"

Alexander's HUD depicted the cell phone network that led his worm to the little girl's mother. He could hear her by tapping her phone.

Data flashed across his HUD: routes, address, satellite images of surrounding locations—the nature of the clinic: reparative therapy.

Location: Alexander's HUD showed him at 150,000 feet over the Azores in the eastern North Atlantic.

Speed, distance, estimated time of arrival information swept across his HUD. The clinic pictured overlayed with diagrams. Data flashed in layers over pictures—

"Be civil, George," the doctor said. "I'm here to help you. Trust me."

The mother tried to lead the girl toward the doctor, but she fought.

Alexander raced west at blinding speed through the thermosphere, descending in an arc as he flew through the Mesosphere.

"Initiate" flashed across his HUD.

Every phone in the clinic rang.

The doctor turned to check.

A nurse picked up a phone which played a recording of President Obama's voice: "Please don't hang up. This is an emergency of the Psychiatric Critical Response Application Police—Psychiatric CRAP. For your safety, you are instructed to exit the building immediately. I repeat—"

"Doctor!" the nurse said. "There is an emergency!"

"What kind of emergency?"

The girl moved to stand behind her mother, away from the doctor, wiping tears from her face.

"We're ordered to exit the building!"

Alexander arced down into the Stratosphere, his ship blazing like a meteorite—rocket speed.

At the clinic, speakers on every device so equipped began playing the message over and again. Televisions as well showed the President repeating his warning to leave the building immediately. "You must exit the building immediately. This is an emergency—"

Staff began to gather a few personal belongings—

The doctor turned to address them: "What is this!"

Views from tapped cell phone cameras danced across Alexander's HUD.

"Troposphere" flashed in the upper right corner of the HUD. "E.T.A. 18 seconds."

The video from what appeared to be the President on the T.V. addressed one woman in particular. "GET OUT NOW!"

Alexander's shock wave over Georgia shook trees and buildings, set off car alarms, blew the wondows out of the sides of a few sky scrapers. His decelearation from Mach 4 occurred in 0.97 seconds. Hollywood couldn't have done it better.

He hovered directly above the clinic, his ship smoking like a barbecue.

Walls began to shake inside.

People screamed and ran, while what appeared to be the President's message repeated its warning to flee.

Doors to the clinic burst open. People ran out, along with the doctor, the mother, and the little girl.

—They all stopped to stare at the shuttlecraft overhead.

Alexander opened his hatch. "Carrie Combs," he said in his own Connery voice, though softer, more kindly, than usual. "Would you like a ride?"

"I would," the doctor said.

"You're not invited," Alexander said harshly. Then softly, "Carrie? Would you like a ride?"

The little girl's face brightened. She started for Alexander's ramp, but her mother cling to her arm.

"Your mother can come, too," Alexander said.

Her moher balked. "No, I—"

Alexander lifted them both into the air and floated them into the shuttle, closed the door behind them.

"And as for the rest of you," Alexander said on his loud speakers to the group below.

The HUD displayed infrared imagery of everything in the surrounding area.

The crowd below watched the shuttle, when, without warning, the clinic instantly slammed into the earth in a depression about a foot deep. Every atom of the clinic dropped to the level of the earth minus one foot, as if a huge invisible giant Walker from Star Wars crushed it. No dust scattered. No water sprayed. It just crushed.

The shuttle descended several feet into the space once occupied by the clinic, and though it was round, a saucer, it seemed to glare at the staff.

The shuttle moved slowly over the area of the clinic, owning every part of it, and spoke like the voice of God: "You think it's okay to hurt people because they're different from you?"

The shuttle reoriented, disk pointing up, and shot straight up so fast it blazed, again, like a meteorite.

In Low Earth Orbit, in the Thermosphere, Alexander let the craft float.

The Earth slowly turned beneath them, as Alexander stared at the two humans on his bridge.

"I object to being kidnapped!" the mother said.

"Then you may know how your daughter has felt," Alexander said.

"He's my son!"

"Thank you, Sir," the little girl said.

"Your name is Carrie, right?" Alexander asked.

"It's George!" the mother corrected.

"You're kind of slow, aren't you," Alexander said. "Girl! What is your name?"

"Carrie." She moved to hug a console in front of the HUD as if it were a person.

Eyes on the HUD melted.

"Do you see what's happening here, Mom?" Alexander asked.

"But! The doctor said—"

"Doctors are as prone to bigotry and ignorance as anyone else," Alexander said. "Sometimes worse, because they think they know."

"I— I—"

"I—also." Alexander's tone softened. "I think we made a big mistake. I can't believe it, but it's true. We'd been so many thousands of years believing as we had, trying to stay out of humanity's way, that we didn't respond when we could have helped. But I'll make that mistake no longer. This little girl needs your help."

"She needs to be fixed. She's gotten into this 'I'm a girl' stuff, and it's messing up her grades in school. She wants to go to school in a dress—"

"—and for thousands of years, humanity has thought there were just these two binary sexes—a distinct male and female. But now you're learning, are you not? That these people have just been being oppressed. That you must help.

"My sins of absence, I cannot erase," Alexander confessed to the lady. "But I can learn from them and do right from here."

"Carrie, I should have been here sooner. But if you like, I can make you a girl in body, the way you need it to be."

The mother looked horrified. "No! I—"

"Do you think we should always remain stupid because we were?" Alexander charged the mother.

"I—"

"Should we never learn?" Alexander's eyes grew on the HUD.

"You can't pretend to be something you're not. That," she indicated her daughter, "is shameful! I—didn't want to hurt her!" the mother begged.

Tears flowed down Carries face.

"You were hurting her. And you still are."

The mother shook her head. "No!"

Alexander said nothing.

Carrie hugged her mother and cried into her dress. "Mom! Please?"

"You can do this?" the mother asked Alexander.

"Carrie, look at these pictures." Alexander put up several photos on his HUD of a girls. "Which do you need to be?"

Without hesitation, Carrie stepped over to the screen and pointed to one in clear certainty. "Please!"

The mom reached down to hug Carrie, then stood beside her and acquiesced.

A gurney appeared.

Carrie got on.

Her head strapped.

She dissolved and was reborn.

* * *

"Get her in here! Get her in here!" Billy Tsung gave his door to a clerk to hold, as he rushed back to open the next set of doors.

Paramedica rushed a gurney into the building, the badly broken and bloodied body of an automobile accident strapped atop it.

The lobby was full of people.

"Move!" A paramedic ordered someone trying to see.

"This way!" Billy screamed. "Hurry up!"

The gurney raced through the hall.

"Are you ready, Phil!" Billy yelled deeper into the next room.

"I got nothing to go on!" Phil yelled back.

"Just pick any body, but hurry up! It doesn't matter!" the paramedic shouted.

Billy closed the doors behind them in the treatment room.

"This is just a transmuter room," Phil said.

"We got to do her quick," the paramedic said. "She just died."

"How long ago?" Phil asked.

"About two minutes ago," the paramedic said. "Her heart stopped. There's no other way to save her."

The paramedics put her body onto the transmuter table and stepped back.

"Okay, okay, okay," Phil said, catching up. "We can do this."

"Mandy," Phil said to his transmuter. "Emergency. Give me a 20-year-old woman, average build. We need to hurry."

Little straps came out to hold the deceased's head against the event of any nerve that may fire.

"I've been listening," Mandy said. "Ready."

The smashed form on the bed became fuzzy and morphed into a healthy 20-year-old young, nude woman who gasped. Her eyes flashed open and she screamed. "Wha—aaaaaaaaaaaaa! Look out!"

Her eyes were wild. She struggled as paramedics held her down. "It's alrigh, miss! It's alright! You're safe! You're safe!"

The woman on the bed looked at them with fire in her eyes. She eventually focused on them, but she jerked her head as well as she could from right to left.

Her head straps disappeared.

She looked at the paramedics more seriously. "Where am I?"

An elderly man walked with difficulty into a transmuter station in St. Petersberg, Florida, a photo of his deceased wife in his pocket.

"Mr. Gonzales?" the receptionist asked.

He nodded.

"We're ready for you."

Mr. Gonzales followed the lady into the next room where the technician waited.

"Mr. Gonzales, we're glad to have you. I'm so sorry for your loss, four months ago. Your wife."

Mr. Gonzales nodded, tears filling his eyes. "I— I wanted to die with her, to be with her."

The technician commiserated with him. "But?"

"But I think she would want me to live."

"Yes!" The technician cried a little with him. "She loved you. I'm sure she would."

With her mother by her side, a five-year-old girl climbed nude onto the table and lay down, hiding her male area with her hands.

"My love!" her mother cried. "You will be okay in just a minute. Is this the one you like?"

The hologram showed an average young girl of five.

"Yes, Mom." The little girl's eyes filled with tears, but her smile was as large as her mother's heart.

"Then lets do it," her mother said to the technician.

"Let your arms down," said the technician.

Little straps came out of the bed to hold the girl's head.

"Are you ready?" the technician asked.

"Please," said the girl.

"Tanya," the technician addressed the transmuter. "Now, please."

The little girl's wrong body became fuzzy and morphed into her right body.

A few seconds later, she took a breath and opened her eyes.

Her head straps disappeared. She had a T on her left temple where a strap had been.

She sat up and looked at herself. "Mommy!" she screamed and jumped off the table to hug her mother, tight around her neck, like she would never let go. Her tears soaked her mother's hair.

CHAPTER

### 32

Nicki was dressed in an 1880s-ish, off-white, maxi evening gown with lace off the shoulders, form-fitting over her perfect figure, and a small train that trailed behind her heels.

Mel wore a black frock coat, white shirt, little black cowboy tie, black slacks and cowboy boots in the fashion of the times.

Together they strode from Mel's car toward their club's Recognition Dance at the club, in honor of those who won awards at the Nationals.

The parking lot was full of cars. The club area was full of old west style buildings, semi-permenant tents put up for atmosphere, and fake old west fronts used for shooting. Someone was charbroiling, and the air was thick with the smell of cigar smoke and beer.

"Hello Mel," a passerby said with a smile, walking with his date. "Nicki." He tipped his hat to her.

Mel smiled at them both. "Hey, Steve."

Nicki reached over and put her hand in Mel's.

Mel turned to face her. "You're trembling? We know these guys. They won't hurt you. Much."

She put her other hand on his as well. "Some of them have been pretty bad toward L.G.B.T. in the past."

"We're straight, doll." He turned to lead her toward the dance.

The music could be clearly heard: "Shiftwork" by George Strait. People were dancing in the "saloon" (building) near the old-west building fronts used for shooting.

"We're T," she said. "And I'm really trans, now."

"Who is probably also pregnant by now."

She slapped him on his back. And smiled.

"We've been through this at the nationals. Guys here don't care about gays any more."

"Well, they might, here. This bunch has been pretty hard on gays, I know, in the past. I never said anything, but now I feel it."

"Well, we'll stare 'em down, together. Probably half of 'em would like to get up your skirt, anyway."

They walked through the split rail fence and into the saloon—right up to the table with the worst of them.

The music was a bit loud in there. People were danging to George's music.

Nicki moved to stand behind Mel, but he put his arm around her and brought her around to his side.

"Oh, 'Horny Toad.' There he is. I heard about you two. I do not believe you're with that faggot there. You ain't no faggot, are you, Horny?"

Nicki's reflex was to step back, but Mel's was to step forward. He lifted the table up from the side and turned it over, slamming it down hard on the wooden floor, and bent over the sitting bigot like a towering menace.

Others scattered.

The music stopped.

The man cowered.

Without taking his eyes off the man, Mel ordered: "Nicki! Come here."

She did.

Mel took her left hand and held it out in front of the man to see. "See this here, Dick?"

"I'm Sam!"

"Now you're Dick. See this here, Dick?" Mel held Nicki's hand closer to Sam. "This here's my engagement ring. She wears it 'cause we're gonna get married. Everybody see this?" He held Nicki's hand high for all to see, then addressed Sam some more. "We're in love. She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and if you dis her again, I'll slam you into the dirt right through this hollow-wood floor. I might even use both hands to do it, though it wouldn't be necessary with a man who isn't even strong enough to be civil."

Mel studied Sam's face, then others around.

No one responded.

Sam slumped like a coward should.

He stood up, still holding Nicki's hand, and faced the guy playing music. "You got any Blake Shelton?"

"Uh, yeah," the guy said.

People began to go back to their business, and the D.J. began to play "Lonely Tonight," a loving, slow song.

Mel took a trembling Nicki in his arms and began to sway.

"It's okay, girl."

A few others gawked, disapproving, but others joined them on the floor.

She put her cheek on his cheek as he turned her around the floor and spoke into his ear. "It's—"

Her right hand was in his left, so she put her left hand over her face as they danced. "I know. I don't think they're gonna do anything to us, but it's the hate. The hate scares me. I don't know why."

Blake sang:

...We don't have to be lonely tonight...

He kissed her ear. "I know. But we're okay."

"Maybe we should leave?"

"Mel," someone called from the side.

"Yes, Bob?"

"C'mon over here and join us for dinner? Both of you?"

"We've got two seats left, an' we'd love to have you," his wife, Betty said.

Mel spun Nicki around in a show and bent her over backward, kissing her neck, then stood her up. "Okay?" he asked her. "C'mon."

Sam continued to sit in his chair.

Some folks were righting Sam's table, putting broken glasses back on it in mock concern.

A woman behind Sam slapped him on the head.

Mel led Nicki over to the table and shook the hands of people there.

"Bob, Betty, Dave and Carol. Good to see you all."

Nicki smiled and waved to them.

Betty addressed Nicki. "Sam there— He don't know no better. He was raised by wolves."

"In the woods, a thousand miles west of Toombstone, if you ask me," Carol said.

"Old school thinking, to my way of thinking," Dave said. "Have a seat."

They did.

Nicki was still distressed.

"Don't let him bother you— 'Nicki' is it, now?"

Nicki nodded, still not speaking.

"I didn't know you had it in you, Nicki."

Nicki nodded. "I don't think— I didn't mean to be— It was a lark, but then— I don't know."

"Denial," Carol said. "I had a cousin once who was gay, and I don't think he even knew it until he went off to college—I think because folks back home was so against it. Denial can get in the way."

Nicki nodded. "I guess—"

"You carried this with you the whole time?" Bob asked.

"In retrospect—yes. I've always needed to be a woman. I think I just couldn't let myself see that. And I think I've always been in love with Mel."

She flushed.

"She's blushing." Dave smiled.

"She does that," Mel said. "Been doing that since she switched.

"And sex is like, really good?" Bob asked.

Betty slapped him.

"I'd like to do her, too," Dave said.

"So would I," Carol said beside him. "She's a dish."

"Well, she's a T," Mel said. "We both are. We switched in Phoenix."

"Yeah, but she's the dish," Carol said. "You are just okay." She smiled at him in fun. "Oh, and she's blushing more! I got to get me one of those."

"What about me?" Dave asked.

"Wanna switch?" Carol asked.

"I hadn't thought so," Dave said.

Mel smiled at Nicki and kissed her on the lips. "It's okay."

Nicki smiled back at him, melting.

Bob started, "This group—"

Betty finished, "—ain't what it used to be."

"Used to be just caught up with bigotry," Dave said.

"Carol agreed. "I could have sworn. Those old ideas— People dominate with that, and you think it's everyone, but it's not. I guess some of us just needed someone to take the lead so we could come out as accepting."

The cateror's server came by and took their order, when the D.J. began playing "American Saturday Night" by Brad Paisley.

"Oh, come on!" Carol said to Nicki, jumping up to stand by her. "We got to get part of this!"

"Mel?" Nicki asked.

"Sure. What the hell. She ain't gonna lay you on the floor."

Nicki stood up to dance with Carol.

"Not right now, anyway," she said. "There's a ban on!"

Carol led Nicki out to the floor and started line dancing with 20 others.

"Carol!" Dave called. "Did you add something you ain't told me about yet?"

Folks at the table laughed.

Bob slapped Dave on the back. "You are sooo gonna be surprised tonight."

Another diner stopped by to share a howdy-do. "Mel, I just wanted to say that we ain't all like dick-head over there, and I think you'll make a great couple."

"Already do, Carmen. And thank you."

The man behind her shouted, "Gotta be a first everywhere." He smiled and took his Carmen to the bar for another drink.

The night wore on. They ate, laughed, danced on occasion, and had the kind of evening good people should be able to share together.

Throughout, Sam didn't move.

"So I got me a new spread over south of town, with a whole two acres on it—horse country," Bob said.

"We got us a new spread," Betty corrected.

"Us! Right. And now we got to get us a couple of horses. And were I to guess. I'd say we'd have them by Thanksgiving. Would you four join us for it?"

"Love to," Carol said.

Nicki beamed, leaning into Mel. "Yes, we'd love to," she said.

"Find Yourself" by Brad Paisley began to play.

Nicki leaned over to Mel's ear and said, "Excuse me a minute."

Mel kissed her on the lips and nodded.

Nicki got up to return to Sam's table. She leaned over him, said something no one else heard, and Sam got up to walk with Nicki to the dance floor.

Sam looked at everyone else there with apparent embarrassment, but Nicki began to dance slowly with him.

At first, Sam was distant, keeping a fist's distance open between them, but as the song wore on, he relaxed and brought her in.

"God, you feel like a real girl," he told her.

She nodded. Her long hair brushed his cheek.

"Your back is so small. I remember you, Nick. You were a man."

"Well, part of my body was."

"Which part was female?"

"My brain."

"Do you miss it? You know, your—"

"Oh," she gasped into his ear, shaking her head no. "It's— When it's there, it functions, but female is another system, and it works, Sam. You gotta know: It works so well. I get so hot, I can't get enough of him."

"But you're actually having sex with a man? With his penis?"

She nodded.

"You hold it?"

She nodded. "More than that."

"Shouldn't you be ashamed?"

"Is your wife ashamed to have sex with you?" she asked.

"Ain't got none. She left me."

"Ah. But you know what I mean."

"Yeah, but not really."

The song changed to Glen Campbell's "Gentle on my Mind" and they kept dancing.

"You thinking of it?" Nicki asked.

"No! Never! How could I? I'd be humiliated to be with a guy."

"That's your old school thinking. People put that idea into your head. But," she said.

"What?"

"You wouldn't have to be straight."

### CHAPTER

### 33

"This is Anna Toothacher of Channel 6 Morning News—all the news that is news in Los Angeles that's—you know, like—clean enough to print on the air."

The buxomous young blond turned toward the other camera. "In the aftermath of the Mother Ship—'her,' if you ask the ship, itself—of the Mother Ship sitting over the Dome of the Rock and rocking our world with what we should have expected as soon as the Ahleth were first announced— In the aftermath of that, we've dropped the whole A.D. thing as if from the Christian religion, and also dropped the C.E. thing, or B.C.E., because that claimed not to be religious even though it still went, like, from the day we never knew when Jesus was born—"

Ana stopped to giggle a bit. "I messed that up?" she asked someone off camera.

"That one, too," someone told her.

"Okay!" she said. "Reality check." Then pretending to be serious, "And we seem to have adopted the year term of 'Trans Era' instead—"

She stopped for a second to toke on a joint, held her breath a few seconds and exhaled. Smoke filled the air in front of her. She smiled at the camera. "That's T.E., to those of you who use the abbreviation, because, basically we're all going trans, now, and that affects us all, not just one religion—because, like, you know: Everything's changing. Well, everything was already changing. I mean, look at me! Two weeks ago, I was a middle-aged trans woman, and now I'm a 20-year-old trans woman."

Lori talked on the phone through her ear buds, as she walked through her transmuter factory, at her compound near Santa Barbara.

"Thank you, Ella," she said into the air above the phone's mike.

"It all worked out. For what it's worth, I think you might be right. I hope humanity heard us this time."

"Where is Adrien?"

"He's still at Gene. He took her back to L4, where she'll park. He took his husband up with him to share. Bessie went up to bring them back. How's Cory, Gadin, Marie?"

Lori smiled at the air in front of her, scanning the property. "We're getting together later. Fine."

"Okay," Ella said. "I better go now. The President will have us in for a meeting in five minutes. You know Putin found his way back again."

Lori laughed. "Darn!"

Ella laughed with her. "Yup. He's been kidnapped four times, now. Someone—I don't want to know who—keeps kidnapping him and turning him into something very different—a little black girl, an elderly Russian trans woman, and then someone intersex, like the Ahleth. That's three that I know of."

"He gets back in one piece?"

"Yup. Seems to be getting good at it. The first time? Black girl in Ukraine? It took him a whole day to even find a transmuter. They read his prints, and—boom—changed him back. But now he's got it down to an hour."

"And you don't know who's doing it?" Lori asked.

"No, but Ollie keeps laughing. It's the darndest thing!"

"Ella," Lori said. "Did you know, back in the day, that I was Magdalene?"

"No. That was with Adrien, then? You still have a thing for him?"

"Not really, any more."

"Did you know I was Newton?" Ella asked.

"No! Really?" Lori asked.

"'Fraid so. Gotta go, kid."

"Don't be scarce. We lose touch. We don't know who we are, but we don't have to disappear any more. Please stay in touch?"

"Okay, love. Bye for now."

Lori turned to wave at the helicopter on the pad. She saw Marie and Bernie in the back seat with Wood and Hanah, who was on vacation from the President's detail. Marie was talking with Hanah, giddy as usual.

Lori screwed her finger in the air, telling the pilot to fire it up.

They flew east south east over Los Angeles.

The other four talked on and on through their headsets, but Lori's eyes focused on Marie. She seemed like such a healthy, vibrant young woman, interfacing seamlessly with them.

Buildings floated beneath them from front to back. They were perhaps 500 feet above them: gas stations, cars in streets, homes with trees—and an obviously expensive church, the front door boarded up with actual planks. Dodger Stadium looked as fun as ever.

"Looks like a nice place to visit," Marie asked Lori through the headphones.

Lori jumped and noticed Marie was looking over her shoulder. "It is, and we must. How about Saturday night?"

Marie clapped. "Goodie! Can I bring Gadin?"

The chopper sat down on the Westech university campus, on a lawn in front of the faculty club. Lori, Wood, Hanah, Marie and Bernie exited.

A few people on a sidewalk noticed and waved.

"Hanah!" one of them called.

Hanah waved back like Marilyn Monroe.

The three walked into the regal, old club and were shown to their seats in the main dining hall, where Gadin, Cory and Estella waited.

Hanah's eyes roamed over chandeliers, ancient real-wood paneling and dignified portraits on the walls of former University Presidents and Nobel Prize winners. "Glad I took a bath before coming here."

"You and me, both," Wood said, resting his hand on the small of her back to guide her to their table.

Gadin, Cory, and Estella waited for them at a large table set for them all.

"Hello everyone," Cory said, rising for them.

"Nice place," Bernie said. "I gotta get me one of these."

Marie kissed Gadin and sat beside him.

"And you probably could at this point," Cory said. "You're rich enough."

Lori stood behind everyone as the group found a seat at the table, taking the only seat left at the head of the table—opposite John Michael Faraday's portrait on the far wall. She tried to turn her head but she couldn't help staring.

Everyone's here, except—

"Mom?" Marie asked, leaning in to Lori.

Lori startled. Trying to fight back tears, she smiled at Marie and everyone through happy conversation.

Loving greetings, catching up.

Who's been doing what.

What is of interest.

Latest research on a few topics.

How the Ahleth have changed the landscape in economics, religion, politics—everything.

The building they were in.

The food.

"He's the most fun I've ever had," Hanah said to Bernie. "You wouldn't know it to look at him, but he's an avid free climber. Arms like you wouldn't know!"

"Probably those are from wresteling you," Cory said.

"That's Estella, from wrestling you, from what I heard," Bernie told him.

Estella laughed with him. "He's a hot rock for sure! I need someone to take some of the load."

Cory stood for a second as if to take a bow, sitting back down when they booed. "What you expect? After all—"

"I know!" Oliver said, walking in to join them, pulling up his own chair.

"Ollie!" Cory jumped up to give him a hug.

"I cooked up coming here as an excuse to take Air Force 2 for a trip—and look what I just discovered on the way in here?"

Oliver showed them his iPhone 6 Plus with a 20-year-old, angry, bi-racial Latina woman, with a T on her left temple, in a tutu dress, obviously floating in zero-g on the International Space Station, screaming her head off into the camera in Spanish.

"Such language!" Cory mocked.

"What is this?" Marie asked, grabbing his phone from him.

"Turn it around!" everyone ordered.

She did.

The lady on the iPhone's screen was cursing at the whole world. "...All I've ever done is care for my country! Work to make the world a better place! I only take over small countries nobody cares about! I only sell arms to terrorists who are already buying them from everyone else! I am a powerful man, you hear me? I've stolen over a billion dollars from my country, and so help me I'll..."

"Such language!" Hanah feigned virginity.

The table started laughing at them both.

"Who is that?" Marie asked.

" _PUTIN!"_ everyone told her at the same time.

"What is this, 4? 5?" Gadin asked.

"I don't know," Oliver said, looking at the screen and turning it back to them. "I've been laughing at this for 10 minutes, ever since he—she—got on there, cussing the whole world. Oh, lets see—"

Oliver turned his iPhone around and typed out a text. "Good...girls...don't...talk...that...way." He pressed an icon. "Sent that to the I.S.S."

"How'd he get up there? She!" Bernie asked.

The table looked at each other then to Oliver.

"Don't ask me!" Oliver said.

"You don't know?" Marie asked.

"I just said don't ask me!" Oliver mocked indignation. He sat down to join them for lunch. "But lets see him—her! Lets see her get out of this one in an hour!"

"She's such a pretty girl!" Hanah said.

Oliver texted another message to the I.S.S.: "Nice...dress. Would...you...like...a...date?"

"When's the next launch scheduled for the I.S.S.?" Wood asked.

Oliver acted like he was thinking real hard. "Oh, my goodness. We've not got one on the table as of yet. The Russians had one scheduled, but it has mysteriously just broken down. You know they don't have a fingerprint scanner on the I.S.S.? No biometrics at all. They haven't needed any."

Doctor Augustine walked over in her newest mini-dress to stand by Cory at the other end of the table from Lori.

"Doctor Augustine!" Cory said.

"Madam President of the University!" Gadin said.

"Tina, please," she said.

"How is it going with you?" Lori asked.

"Fine, fine. It's good to see you."

"How is it going with your wife?" Gadin asked.

"You know," Tina chuckled a bit. "That's actually working out rather well. I'm lesbian, but she isn't—but she loves me, so she's at least bi. I think. I hope I don't get into trouble for that one."

"Good," Hanah said.

Wood smiled and nodded.

"Family is the most important," Bernie said.

"Well, family and friends," Cory said, from the other end of the table.

Lori looked at John's portrait again. Distinguished, in a suit, he stood in a laboratory, in front of a chalkboard covered in equations—and his eyes—

"Mom?" Marie asked again. Marie turned her head to look at her father's portrait, reaching over to hold her mother's hand.

"I screwed up," Lori said to Marie.

"No!"

Lori nodded. "I really should have used the transmuter on your father whether he liked it or not, and let him choose death after he was healthy, if he wanted. I don't think he would have."

"But you can't force choices on people," Marie said. "Remember what Socrates told you?"

* * *

Lines to transmuters around the globe were orderly.

People on exit, healthy again, rejuvenated, hugged each other in tears: a formerly elderly couple; a woman who had been in a wheelchair; a trans person seeking a goal.

Wars around the globe slowed or even stopped.

Conservative clubs welcomed minorities, LGBTQ, intersex, and full spectrum with open arms—especially since many of their own members had come with a previously oppressed issue out or transitioned.

Carrie Combs went to her old school in a new dress, as herself, for the first time in her life.

"Class, this is Carrie," the teacher said. "She's been with us all along, but she's a girl, now—"

"I've always been a girl," Carrie corrected. "Just mis-assigned at birth due to some external features."

"—always been a girl," the teacher stood corrected. "And now she's a trans girl." The teacher asked Carrie if she got it right. "Trans, right?"

Carrie nodded. "With a 'T' right here on my left temple, like everyone else."

"She's trans, now, and we're very glad to have her. Right class? What do we say to her?"

"Welcome, Carrie," the class said in unison.

"Where is Adrien?" Cadence asked, standing behind her Resolute Desk in the Oval Office.

Ella stood in front of the desk, as usual.

"I don't know, Madam President. He's just gone. He took off! God knows he's rich enough. Sometimes we don't see each other for thousands of years."

"'Madam President'? Ella: You were a Pharoah of Egypt, 3100 T.E., head of state also. We can't do first name basis yet?"

Ella shook her head. "If I was still Head of State, I'd say okay, but now I'm just an appointee in your administration."

"You saying the President can't date anyone? Michael Douglas could."

Ella smiled and paused. "Date?"

"I think you know."

"Oh," Ella thought. "Oh, my. I— Um— I— But I work here."

"I've learned you've been offered a job at Caltech, full professor of physics, and that you've accepted." Cadence sat down behind her desk.

"I did?" Ella smiled.

"So I guess you don't work for me any more."

"Uh." Ella walked around the Resolute Desk to sit in Cadence's lap.

* * *

Lori walked on the sandy beach with her arm around Marie's waist, looking at the shoreline and the jetties, where she'd gone so many times with her husband and her dog.

"You know, this is the first time I've been here since you transitioned me," Marie said.

Lori nodded. "I know."

"It was right after Dad passed, wasn't it?"

Lori nodded. Tears formed in her eyes and began to move down her cheeks. She wiped at them with her free hand.

"You love Dad."

"Yes. Still." She turned Marie and embraced her, crying into her hair.

Marie cried with her.

"I just want him to hold me," she said to her daughter. "I want him so much."

Marie stroked her mother's hair. "I know. I do, too. He used to clap me—lovingly—on my ribs with a cupped hand, to make my lungs work like a drum! And it was so funny!"

"You remember that?"

"Yeah, I do. And I used to love it. And I used to try to lick him in the face—the big game!"

Marie turned Lori and began to stroll with her along the beach, barely touching the salt water of the Pacific with their feet.

"He'd block his face with his arms as if he really meant to stop me—but I was fast! I could sneak past them and lick him sloppy right on his nose!"

Lori laughed at Marie.

"And he'd laugh! And I'd growl! Then he'd growl with me."

Marie's face was a joy.

"You remember all that?" Lori asked.

Marie nodded. "Yes. And more. You did good work, Mom." She hugged Lori. "I'm so glad to call you Mom. I have life because of you."

"I had to do it—"

"I know. And did you know I wanted your help?" She looked at her mother.

"I wasn't sure. I thought you did, but it was not defined."

"Because I was a dog. All I knew was I wasn't feeling well, and I believed you would help me however you could. And you did. You've always cared for me."

Lori nodded. "I had to."

"The same way you cared for this whole planet. I just can't figure out if I'm an Alien from Outer Space or not."

Lori laughed. "I don't— I don't know. You are, let me see. You are human, now, female, but beause you started out as a dog and you blended with me and you've been through the transmuter, you're, I guess, hybrid, trans species, trans person."

Lori waved her hands in the air. "Truth is there are so many variations showing up that people ask for—there's no template for most of it. People want to be what they feel inside, and it turns out there is very little relationship between that and the old notion of Mr. and Mrs. Heteronormative Square peg in a Square hole. It's just all different.

"Now," Lori summed, "because of the popularity of it, everyone's simply 'trans.' With this huge spectrum, it's the only word that seems to fit. They'll outnumber cis, before long. And, yes, you're part Alien, because you have a lot of my memories."

### CHAPTER

### 34

"Is everything ready?" Flight Director "just Lori" sat in a control room on the Earth side of the huge operation's center in the Faraday Space Station, orbiting Earth at an altitude of 674 kilometers. Sixteen other people sat at control stations in a semi-circle around holographic displays of the intended mission: send the next, ready-built space station to Mars.

"Orbital planning's a go."

"Orientation's a go."

"Fuel systems, go."

"Computer systems, go."

"Communications, online."

"Debri's all clear. Thank God you all cleaned it up!"

"All sections closed and latched."

Lori wore no headset. Her audio was emitted by her console and directed to her ears. Other people could not hear, but it was clear to her.

"Captain Ollie," Lori asked. "Systems check."

Oliver imaged in her holodisplaly. "All a go. I can't find anything else to check." Oliver had become a woman a hundred years before but kept her original name.

"And I'm glad for it, Ollie," Lori said. "The days of a precise departure are gone. We can take all the time we want, make sure we do it right. You'll make course corretions enroute."

"The space station's just a bloody big ship, it is," Oliver said, imitating Scotty. "Kirk would love to get his hands on it. I'd love to get my hands on Kirk."

"It's the Star Trek age," Lori said. "350 years, and we're still talking about it."

"Living it." Oliver looked professional on the bridge of her space station-ship.

Lori stood at her station and looked out around the control room. She looked at the A.I. port on her console, which read her eye movement and switched her to multi-channel. "I find no reason not to continue," she said. "Anyone have a problem?"

"Everything set," everyone agreed.

"Alright. Then, Captain Ollie, it's all yours."

"Aye," Oliver said, turning to her work.

The massive A-Jon Mar type space station was tiny, compared to it's Earth-orbital dry dock—so small it was barely noticeable behind a survey bulkhead. It pulled slowly forward—"Clear," said Captain Oliver—then emerged on the Mars side of the F.S.S.

"Looks fine from here," Lori said.

Oliver's bridge was clear on Lori's holodisplay. "No problems. I say good to go."

"Have a nice trip," Lori said.

"You want to look after her for a while?" Lori asked her associate.

"Sure."

Lori got up to leave the control room.

As she walked, Lori looked at a small holodisplay near her left eye and scanned her iPhone 269 for messages, indicated one of them, sent a symbol reply, indicating her E.T.A.

She scanned another area of her phone's holodisplay and blinked. "How long you think you'll take getting to Mars, Ollie?"

Her display showed Oliver's bridge. Oliver gave a couple instructions to crew then addressed the com panel. "I'd think inside a month. We're not going to rush it. Some cool microbiology experiments going on, and there's no need. When you coming to visit?"

Lori smiled at Oliver as she entered a lift. "Top of the World restaurant," she said to the lift, then to Oliver, "When is Alexander coming to visit you?"

Oliver looked warm. "I, uh— He's proposed to me, you know."

A.I. had gained the status of legal persons over two hundred years before—inspired by Commander Data on "Star Trek: The Next Generation."

"Congratulations! Now you can have little holograms!"

Lori exited the lift onto the restaurant level and stood in the lobby area.

"You know, he's considered getting a transmuter to make him a human body? Pattern the brain after his thought process. They could, but if they did, I think it wouldn't be actually Alexander but a copy. God—" Oliver stopped for a second to respond to a crewman with a question. Then she leaned into her com panel. "He drives me crazy! In a good way."

Lori chuckled. "What about his datacells in the skull, connected to a real, functioning human body—circuitry as a brain. Cyborg.

"We've thought of that. Who knows. It's up to him."

"You want him to be male or female?"

"That's also up to him. Me? I could go for either, and in this day and age, what difference does it make."

"Okay. So if he comes up there in a month or two, I'll see if I can hitch a ride."

"Okay! See you then."

Lori looked around the restaurant, a rotating dome above the Faraday, Earth very large on one side, a waxing gibbous moon distant but large on the other. Because the restaurant was rotating, celestial objects slowly moved left to right around them. Normally—because of the light of the earth, moon, and sun—the stars and other planets would not be visible, but the dome dimmed the sun's disk and accented the planets and starlight, bringing it all in.

"The sky is more visible inside here than anywhere in the solar system," Cadence said as she approached.

"Ah. Hello," Lori said.

"The dome was a lovely touch," Cadence said. "Glad you recommended it. This way to our table."

Cadence led the way past a table where a family with two children were trying to dine out.

"Nice looking family," Lori said to the mother.

"Oh! Hi! Lori. It's good to see you."

Lori smiled and followed Cadence to their table.

"We have a dome like this on Gene," Lori said. When they got to the table, she found Ella and Marie already there.

All greeted and sat.

Though the culture had matured and technology had advanced, the classic restaurant with someone waiting on you was a time-honored nurturance that people refused to give up. The culture tried it without servers for several years back in the 21st Century. People could sit at their table and order to an A.I. chef from the table, and even have the food produced right there in a replication device, but then the atmosphere became sterile. The bustle of servers moving abuot the restaurant carrying trays of food adds to the pleasure of time spent with both friends and a meal.

With one modification.

"Good day, everyone," the android said as she approached the table. "I'm Ranell 5, and I'll be your server, today."

"Well, Ella said. What do you have to drink?"

"Anything's good with me," Marie said.

"We do have some real alcohol," Ranell 5 said, "as a little can be good for your biological health—those of you who need that. And we have some synth, if you want that—" A hologram projected in front of Ranell 5 that displayed various drink products.

Ella reached out only slightly with her right hand and moved a finger. The holomenu rotated to suit.

"Why don't we have a bottle of that stuff we had on the moon, once," Cadence said.

"Do you know what that was?" Ella asked Ranell 5.

In 4.3 seconds, Ranell 5 responded, "Yes. This one?"

"What took you so long?" Ella asked the android.

"The data was on the moon. Speed of light. Turn around time."

"Yes, that's the one," Cadence said. "One of those, please. Lori?"

"Sounds fine."

The android radioed in the order, but hurried off as if to complete it.

"So?" Marie looked at Lori for an answer.

"A needle pulling thread," Lori answered.

"No! I mean, how is it going with Nate?"

"Now there's a good one," Cadence said.

"How is it going in xenobiology, Cadence?" Lori asked to deflect.

"Nate sure is tall and handsome," Cadence said with a smile.

"I could be a man for you if you wanted," Ella said. "I have before."

"No problem here! I love you, I don't care what gender you are. Oh!" Cadence pretended she was in a B-Play, clasping her hands together. "I'm so happy!"

"And Nate is into you?" Marie asked again.

"Yes, I'm sure he is," Lori said.

"300 years since you had any, Mom! Since Father died."

"Well," Lori said. "Maybe 299.98."

All three women looked at Lori and burst into happiness for her.

"Mom!"

"Lori!" Ella said, clasping Lori on the back.

"The perpetual hermit from hell! You didn't! You got laid? And didn't tell us?"

Lori's smile grew as she tried to recoil from her friends.

"Lori got laid! Lori got laid!" chanted Oliver from the ship.

Lori started to object.

"You never hung up! I've been listening."

Lori smiled at her holo and with a glance, the line to Oliver was closed.

"When did you get with Nate?" Marie asked, scooting closer to her mother and leaning in, conspiratorially.

"I don't know—"

"Yes you do!" Cadence begged.

"God!" Marie said. "You got with Spock. I know who that is; I watched 'em all on Netflix."

Lori tried to explain. "He was just—"

"Yeah, I know," Ella said. "Just nudging society along in Star Trek when he hoped they could use it."

"And we could use it." A tall, handsome man walked up to the table looking like—Leonard Nimoy on steroids.

"Nate!" Lori jumped up to hug him, and he kissed her softly on the mouth.

Lori swooned, melting into him.

"Oh, she's got it bad," Cadence said, looking then to Ella. "Look at that."

"You want me to be a man," Ella said.

"No, I don't. I just miss that, I think."

"I could change this afternoon."

"No! Please don't. I— I love you the way you are, too. Please stay?"

Marie jumped up to stand beside Nate and Lori to watch them kiss.

Ella pointed her fingers at her own eyes then to Cadence as in "We'll talk about this later."

"Put your hand on her breast," Marie told Nate, who broke off kissing Lori to give Marie a hug.

"Ugh!" Marie groaned. "I am now so missing Gadin."

"Who would have thought we'd stay with a mate so long?" Cadence said. "What is it with that? People changing sexes, changing looks, but we stay together?"

"Habit?" Marie asked.

"Love?" Lori asked, taking a seat and offering one next to her to Nate.

"Maybe stability that comes with age," Ella said.

Ranell 5 returned with the wine and glasses for everyone. "Any preference for the General?" Ranell 5 asked General Nathaniel Green.

"No," Nate said. "I'm fine."

"Need anything else?" the server asked.

"I've got 4 lovely ladies—and you to take care of us. What more could I ask?"

Cadence noted, "He sounds like Spock."

"I'm switching today," Ella said.

Lori looked aglow, kept steeling looks at Nate.

"You knew me on the ship, Lori," Nate said. "When we first came to earth."

"Yeah, but— I don't know."

"And we served together for a couple thousand years before that, exploring this region of the galaxy."

"But something changed in you."

"We all evolve," Nate said.

"You didn't know he was Ahleth when he was Spock on T.V.?" Cadence asked.

Lori shook her head. "Can't tell by just looking, if they don't make it obvious.

Nate smiled confidently and teased the ladies.

"Well, everybody's happy looking at me," Nate said. "I didn't do anything."

Marie was aghast. "You— You kidding?"

Cadence summed for her. "It's like you single-handedly created all this."

Nate waved them off. "No way! I just tried to inspire desire."

"And _that_ you do." Lori leaned over to kiss him again—long and lingering, and kept it up, and kept it up.

Marie looked around as if she were embarrassed.

Lori broke the kiss to look at her. "You're not 1st Century, any more, kid-o. So why shy?"

"My mom's a slut."

Lori smiled at her. "Your mom—in love."

Nate addressed the women. "Back then, Lori was kind of like the navigator, and I was a researcher. Kind of like the science officer—"

"No way!" Cadence blurted out. Then she laughed as if she had just heard the best joke. "So the part came—" She laughed some more.

"The part came natural," Nate said—so Spock at his station. "When I heard they were auditioning, I did my best."

Ranell 5 returned to the table and displayed choices with his holomenu. Everyone ordered, and she left.

"Are you green-blooded?" Cadence asked.

"I don't know!" Lori acted as if she'd never considered it. "I've never seen him bleed." She squinted at him.

"I—" Nate let it linger for them.

"What!?" Marie demanded.

"I—think it's red— Ah, no. I'm sure it's blue unless oxygenated."

"How many times have you been through this conversation in the last 300 years, Nate," Ella asked.

"Not that many, actually. I only came out recently. People did it to me at first, so I took a couple hundred years off. Went to school."

"After the militaries became more of a security service, he joined," Lori said. "Became a hot-shot engineer."

"Then retired. I know," Cadence said. "He built the first major space station after the I.S.S."

"Massive," Marie said.

"I'd expect no less," Ella said. "He was a good science officer."

"And now we're on to other projects," Nate said.

"Might as well be," Cadence said. "We're in good shape, now. The wars of the 21st Century dissipated in the 22nd—"

"Once we got past that 1st Century thinking," Ella said.

"They can be such a pain," Marie said.

"Health and longevity—covered," Cadence summarized. "Transmutation takes care of that. The economic chaos that followed resolved itself when we stopped using money, thank goodness. It's hard to get along with people when you're trying to be financially dominant. Religions— _fused_ a bit?" Cadence said it as a question.

"There is a strong spiritual aspect to humanity," Ella said. "Always has been, always will be."

"Yes," Cadence said. "And the best aspects of most religions were so similar beneath the details of the surface."

Lori filled that in: "Know there's something better for us all. Respect others. Respect yourself."

"Don't want to leave out that part," Marie said.

Lori continued. "Don't judge people. Think about what they're going through... Like that."

Cadence continued. "Hunger—a thing of the past."

Nate went with it. "And with retention of our genius, we cured hunger, pollution, learned to balance the global climate, developed greater energy sources to power lev vehicles from cars to stars. Natural resource management has matured. People have been free to engage in procreation for the last 97.68 years. We have developed a dozen major stations in space, and hundreds of smaller ones. Moon stations have become plentiful, and there is no argument over what 'country' owns what. With age, nations see importance of similar goals, with responsibility there is less argument over how to achieve them, and with longevity, there is no avoidance over longer-term, even centuries-long goals. With it's new magnetosphere, Mars terraform operations are proceeding according to plan.

"And," Nate said, "we are just now getting ready to embark on the next phase in our expansion as a species."

"What?" Cadence asked.

"Interstellar travel is a given, using Ahleth technology, re-engineered to Earth standards. I think our infrastructure will support a few bases in the Alpha Centauri system.

"Wow!" Cadence said.

Cadence looked around the table at the other four people there.

They sat calmly, smiling at Nate.

"Well, I'm just entering my 4th century, you all," she said.

Ella smiled at her. "But you're precocious."

"Well, I was president of—" Cadence pointed out the window to Earth turning slowly beneath them. The western coast of Africa was coming into view off the eastern edge of the Atlantic. "Well, the U.S. It'll be there in about 70 minutes."

The council has approved the plan, largely due to the efforts of Nicki Hammil. Council President Carrie Combs got the final vote today.

"Good for her," Cadence said.

"Alpha Centauri," Marie dreamed. "That's, like, four light years away. Where is it?" She looked out the dome, scanning the sky.

Nate pointed. "That way. 1.34 parsecs, to be exact. Or 4.37 light years, the closest star system to our own."

"Couldn't we park space stations just anywhere? Out in space? We don't need to plant them near a star, do we?"

"Yes. And no," Nate said. "But we humans like to live near a star, there are resources there, and it can make a stable place. Life is still early, there, in it's evolution, so we will not be altering their course so much as adapting to it. Placing a station in deep space could involve position-keeping, which we could overcome, but—"

"There is one colony out there," Ella said. "They went straight up."

Nate nodded to her, knowingly. "It's like building a cabin deep in the mountains. Some people like their solitude."

The five of them stared at each other in mutual consideration of the topic.

"Oh, look!" Marie pointed out the dome to two figures floating into view, one from the left, the other from the right.

"Hello," Gadin said from the left, via radio intercom to a speaker system at the table.

"Hi all," Cory said from the right.

Their suits were minimal. Their helmets were globes that, in minimizing the brightness of the sun to them, cast a shadow over their eyes, which was partially corrected with internal illumination. Other tubes existed in the helmet for water and sustenance.

"Hi all!" Cadence said to them.

Everyone greeted them.

Gadin rotated his suit in an odd gyration. "I can't get enough of this."

"What are you two doing out there?" Lori asked.

A figure floated, inverted, down from above, carrying something in her arms, from above the dome to within thirty feet of Gadin and Cory.

"Hi Sheena," Cory said in greeting.

"Sheena?" Marie exclaimed. "Oh!" Marie got up to stand closer to the dome. "I haven't seen you since you switched." Marie turned to everyone. "She was Putin until yesterday. She said she was going to switch, but I thought she was kidding me."

"Sure made a turn around," Ella said.

Cadence nodded to her. "Had to serve in the Peace Corps for 80 years before some people dropped their grudge. I guess she paid her penance as well as she could."

"She's been a servant of humanity ever since," Gadin said.

Sheena waived to everyone. "You know," she said, "this female thing isn't bad. Probably if I'd done it earlier, I wouldn't have been so frustrated— Well never mind."

"You've done a fine job with the moon, Sheena," Nate said. "Glad to see you again."

Sheena saluted Nate and tossed the end of a sign toward Cory and Gadin, who caught it easily.

Sheena backed up to pull it tight.

Cory read the sign: "Happy Birthday, Lori."

Lori looked around confused.

Nate smiled at her. "We all got together and decided to give you a birthday."

"You didn't have one," Cory said. "And we wanted you to, so—"

Lori looked confused yet pleased.

Everyone at the table pulled out a little card or gift for Lori.

"And here are theirs," Marie said, handing over three more.

"She was our consipirator," Sheena said.

Lori sat through her friends singing the birthday song to her, then relished their lively conversation. The three outside the dome played in their zero-g and pretended to fight like the Three Stooges.

Cadence held Ella's hand.

Ella smiled at Cadence.

Nate gave Lori another kiss.

Marie teased Gadin through the dome.

Lori sat back in her chair and noticed her surroundings.

_My friends—friends! I haven't really had any in so long. Such loving, good people_.

People, she reflected, respected differences among each other, worked together in peace for the betterment of all, and virtually everyone over the age of 40 was trans something—as well as many from a very early age, correcting gender issues.

The table next to them included two transgenders.

Beyond that sat three gay men talking with a fourth, obviously in an intelligent discussion on something having to do with chemistry.

The family two tables over erupted. A mother tried to help two children who fought over a toy, the girl spilling a drink onto the table, dripping over the side onto the floor. She began to cry.

Ranell 5 went to help. "There, now. It's alright—"

And Lori felt alright, herself, for the first time in three centuries.

_I love you, John_ , she thought, feeling him begin to depart.

_Do the best you can with our daughter,_ she felt him say.

_I will. You know I will. Where will you go?_ Lori thought to him.

_I think I don't have to choose,_ she felt him say. _I think I can just move into the hearts of men._

Lori felt a twinge of loss as she imagined him leaving, moving, his spirit distancing into space, somewhere here but there.

Marie looked to her mother.

Lori watched Marie reach out to hold Nate's hand.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Aimee Norin writes novels about trans person / transsexual / transgender experiences, in an effort to entertain, and also to illustrate lesser-known aspects of phenomena. People have different terminologies they prefer, so Aimee tries to use them all at one time or another, and ideologies vary, so in her books, characters experience lives and share views, which are all different. Usually, there are multiple views given within each novel, and some novels as a whole present views quite different from other Aimee Norin novels.

Her characters are normal in their humanity in that they also have issues in life with which they struggle while they search for love and respect.

Transgender lifestyles are not yet commonly accepted in most societies, and trans persons are usually heavily schachtered on an ongoing basis, with daily diminutions, or "daily _dimunitions_ ," as they are sometimes felt. Prejudices and oppressions, soft and loud, misleading and painful, can exist for a trans person throughout life in more ways that can be known or counted—not just in larger, social exclusions but also in assumptions closer people make that also keep trans persons on the fringe. A person living in these lifestyles may have to deal with all that on a daily basis—while at the same time needing to wear a smile, interacting with those same, oppressive people at work, in public, or at home, in such a way as to downplay internal fear and pain: smiling while hurting.

Saying things seem fine when they're not.

Aimee's experience is that most people do not really understand trans persons and tend to keep them at arm's length. People have opinions, and they may _believe_ they understand—because they've treated patients, or known some trans persons elsewhere, or had one in the family. But those contacts are superficial and rare compared to a mutually interactive, decades-long, daily involvement, through situations good and bad, or even actually being a trans person in self.

Aimee believes if most people got to know trans persons more closely—if they gained enough trust to be admitted to inner thoughts and private experiences, if they were to show the courage to ask insightful questions, if they were open to new ideas as they emerged—a different, more human, more genuine reality could well emerge with reasons revealed for things that had, hitherto, seemed eccentric or even spurious. Instead of a trans person appearing to be someone who is unduly concerned about social rejections or prospects, real reasons may be revealed that indicate the trans person is dealing with issues of which others are unaware—still needing at the same time to function as the helpful co-worker, the friendly neighbor, the loving husband, the devoted wife, the inspiring parent, the loyal friend.

Being a trans person takes more courage and inner strength than most people begin to conceive.

As such, a greater effort is needed to peer into the heart of trans people—to see what is really there, what is really being dealt with, much of which is likely not shared—and to convey a greater and more sincere compassion than previously considered.

Finally, in order for these novels to be FREE, no editor is used, relying, instead, on feedback from people. Please email aimeenorin@gmail.com if you have comments or concerns.

CONTACT AIMEE NORIN

 aimeenorin@gmail.com

<http://aimeenorin.wordpress.com/>

Because I have been offering these novels for free, I must schedule most of my time for other occupations, and hence, I cannot manage most correspondence as often as I'd prefer. As a consequence, I may find it best to respond to most concerns in the aggregate on my web log, or Facebook, or Twitter, and then, perhaps, intermittently. Sometimes I do return emails directly, though. Please do write, though, as I do read them. Your comments and feedback are most appreciated and valued.

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

