The Chosen
By

Susan Brown

  

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Chapter 3

  

Previously...

‘I would like to be known as Rebecca from now on, Helena.’

‘That’s a nice name, Rebecca. Shall I alter the records and inform everyone who needs to know?’

‘Yes please.’

‘It is done. Your friends Tom and David wish to visit you. Do you wish to see them?’

I thought for a moment, a shiver of fear coursing through my body. Would they laugh at the way I looked or, worse still, would I laugh at them? Then I remembered the promise I made to myself–to try to be proud to be a girl.

‘Yes please.’ I replied, sitting up.

I stood and checked how I looked in the long mirror by the closet. Staring at my face I whispered ‘Rebecca,’ to myself and smiled shyly. The door chimed and I watched the colour drain from my cheeks.

‘It’s your friends, Rebecca.’

‘Open.’

I smoothed my skirt down and faced the door while it slid open quietly.

I stared at them and they stared at me––

And now the story continues...

They stared at me and I stared at them. We said nothing–just stared. They were both dressed as I was, but because they–unlike me–had very short hair, they both wore what I assumed to be wigs, although they didn’t look like wigs. Their hair colour was the same as before, but now it cascaded to their shoulders.

‘Come in and sit down,’ I said, motioning with my hand and we settled in lounge chairs.

‘Want something to drink?’ I asked.

‘Zinga, please,’ replied David and Tom nodded that he wanted the same.

‘Three Zinga’s please, Helena.’

‘Coming up, Rebecca.’

A few seconds later the serving hatch opened and I passed around the drinks.

‘Privacy please, Helena.’

‘I’m sorry, but you are not three petals yet, so you can only have privacy when you are talking to relatives.’

‘Oh, ’I said, disappointed.

‘Do not worry, Rebecca, I am programmed only to pass on information that relates to your safety or the safety of others.’

‘Okay,’ I said.

‘Well,’ I said rather awkwardly, ‘you both look–nice.’

‘I like it,’ Tom said enthusiastically, smoothing down his skirt, ‘I’ve decided to call myself Bethany; your name is nice, Rebecca.’

‘It was my mum and dad’s choice if I’d been born a girl.’

I looked across to David who, as yet had not said much.

‘David, have you chosen a girl’s name?’

‘No,’ he snapped back.

Looking at him, I could see that he was upset and really felt for him.

‘You don’t accept all this, do you, David?’

He looked at me. It seemed strange calling him David, dressed like that.

‘No, I—I hate it. I told them I wasn’t suitable and I don’t know how I got through the selection process, but they said I was rated seventy two percent and that was within the acceptable criteria. I am a boy and I want to stay one. They might pump me full of drugs and I have had the operation like you, but I’m still a boy–I am,’ he finished, whispering.

I went and hugged him; we were all tearful by then. I didn’t know what to say; I hadn’t wanted this to happen to me, but I knew that I had no choice. I could kick and scream about it until Armageddon, but it wouldn’t make one iota of difference. That didn’t mean that I didn’t think that it was unfair to arbitrarily take children away, change their bodies into something different. It was just the way it was. Looking at David, I could see that he needed help, badly.

‘Have you told your Helper about how you feel?’ I asked.

He stood up and started pacing the room.

‘She’s no help, she’s been programmed by the system, she’s all girl and proud of it. She toes the line and keeps telling me that I should be proud to be one of The Chosen, whatever that means.’

He sat on the bed and put his head in his hands. I looked at Bethany, raising my eyebrows. She, and I call her she as she obviously liked being a girl, looked upset at the conflict that David was experiencing. We didn’t know what to do help him.

‘Helena, David is upset, what can he do?’

‘I sense her unhappiness. Not everyone accepts what has happened to them and they require extra help and support to see them through a difficult time. David?’

He looked up, tears streaming down his face. ‘What?’ he sniffed.

‘Would you like to go back to your room; someone will be there to see you in a few moments.’

‘Not my Helper?’

‘No, your personal counsellor; she will try to help you get over this.’

‘I don’t want help; I want to be a boy again!’

‘I know, David, but at least talk to her.’

After a moment, David got up and looked over to us.

‘You know, I wish could just let go and give in like you two obviously have. I hate being like this–it makes me feel such a–a sissy.’

He didn’t say anything else and just left, leaving Bethany and I staring at the closing door.

‘Have we just given in?’ I asked Bethany.

She looked at me, still upset about David. ‘No, I haven’t given in, as he calls it. I have always felt more girl than boy, so this is a dream come true to me. What about you?’

‘I don’t like it, I never have, but I knew that there was always going to be a big chance that I might have to become a girl. As I was growing up, I did wonder what it would be like to be female. Having diplomats for parents made me look at things dispassionately, weighing up the pros and cons and trying to make decisions based on the facts. I don’t think being a girl is so terrible; the thing is we didn’t have a choice and that was what has upset me. Mind you, I liked being a boy and given the choice, I would’ve stayed one. You would have thought that there would be enough boys in the world happy or at least with few objections to be changed into girls, but evidently there aren’t.’

‘So do you want to be called a he or she?’

I thought for a moment.

‘She; looking like this and knowing that I can’t be a boy again–I no longer have the right equipment to be a ‘he’. That doesn’t mean that I’m happy about it, but accept it. I am not going to bang my head against a wall over it–it’d give me a really, really bad headache!’

We both grinned at my feeble attempt at a joke.

‘Girls, please go to room 270, it is time for your Induction Class,’

‘How do we get there?’ I asked, getting up.

‘Follow the green line on the floor and it will take you to the meeting room.’

‘What about David?’ asked Bethany, ‘will she…I mean he be there?’

‘No, she is being helped in her room and will take Induction when she is ready; now please hurry.’

We left my room and immediately saw the illuminated green line on the corridor floor leading to the left with pulsing arrows. Glancing at each other, we just shrugged and followed the arrows. A few others, dressed the same as us, followed the arrows too and soon we entered what appeared to be a lecture theatre with seats rising towards the back. At the front was a podium upon which was a lectern with a lady standing behind it, illuminated by a high-tech lighting system. Behind her was a large screen with the school crest displayed upon it.

I suppose there were about twenty children in the room. Glancing at the expressions on the faces of the ones I passed, some looked happy, others sad, one or two scared and one girl looked like she had been crying. Bethany and I found a seat about half way back and to the side.

A few latecomers arrived after us and then the doors of the theatre closed silently and the lights dimmed apart from the one that illuminated the lectern and the lady.

She was keying in something while everyone was settling down. She was, I suppose, about forty with long brown hair and was impeccably dressed in a cream coloured business suit comprising a , tailored jacket and skirt, white silk blouse, black stockings or tights and black heels. She appeared very poised and pretty.

After a moment, she looked up and smiled.

‘Welcome to your new home, girls. I hope you have all settled in all right. This is what we call the Induction. It isn’t too heavy, but it is just to give you an idea about what is happening and what is going to happen to you over the next few days and months. You do not have to make any notes as you will have a vid of this, together with a package of notes, brochures and other useful material when you return to your rooms.’

‘My name is Amanda Jones and I am the principal of the Girls’ School. We like to be as honest as possible with you, and where we can, we will answer any questions that you might have at what must be, for many of you, a very traumatic time. Some of the children are so traumatised, they are not deemed ready for Induction yet. Those girls–and yes we always call them girls because it helps–need extra support to get through this difficult period in their lives. Some of you are happy to become girls, perhaps because you are transgendered, or are not bothered what sex you are; others have accepted that they have to go with the flow. Whatever your circumstances, we will help you with your transition wherever we are able.’ She paused for a moment to have a drink of water and then continued.

‘All of you have been told why it is necessary to have this rather extreme set of procedures to ensure the continuation of our race. You would have had to have lived in a hole in the ground not to know about the riots, civil unrest and wars involving other countries over the issue of turning healthy young men and boys into females. Often it is because of religious beliefs or bigotry or even fear that makes people behave in such a manner. Thousands–if not millions–have died or are living in fear. Totalitarian regimes have sprung up everywhere in the power vacuums caused by the unrest and the fall of democratically elected governments. After the Indo-China war, China overran India and has amalgamated it into in the Chinese Empire comprising of most of the countries of the Far East including, of course, Japan. It is only because of our orbiting weapons’ satellites overhead that China has stopped her warmongering. We hope and pray that no more aggressive acts will occur from that quarter.’

I gazed around the dim theatre and saw that everyone was intent on her words. Of course we had all heard this before, but as we were now deeply involved in the process of being changed, somehow it seemed all the more personal and not just about other countries on a map. It all seemed very strange, sitting here as a girl with others who were in the same predicament, listening to this woman’s calm voice telling us that the world was in turmoil and all because of a gender crisis. Her words had brought home the fact that my parents were in India and that that country was one of the worst affected. I wondered, with an ache in my heart, when I would see them again.

‘Other countries have been able to deal with the crisis better. The United States of America joined with Canada in a new united country, following the world’s financial crisis ten years ago. Australia and New Zealand did the same to counter the threat from China to their north.

Some countries have stayed independent but in loose alliance like the European Union which has just welcomed Russia into its ranks. The Middle East is the other hot spot and there is very little news coming out of that vast area. What we do know is that there have been riots, civil unrest, murders, executions and enforced feminisation of babies and young boys. Regrettably, many countries have gone down a similar route and it is in those countries that we find the greatest unrest.

So we have the situation that some countries have come together either by force or mutual agreement; others are under repressive and totalitarian rule and I have not even touched on Africa or South America. These will be covered on another occasion.’

Once again she stopped to take a sip of water. She continued; ‘What has this got to do with you and your current situation? I am just highlighting that you are lucky to live in a country that has been able to weather the storm and is in the forefront of trying to find a solution to the problem of the total lack of girl births. We think that we are close to a solution and you are very lucky to be here at this exciting time. This is not an ordinary school. We are part of a quartet of schools that are different and special–one here in England, another in Scotland, a third in Wales and yet another in Eire. These schools were selected as the prime establishments for the research and implementation of Project Phoenix. You girls are The Chosen. The girls who will be part of the treatment that gives us hope for the future.’

She looked around, beaming at us, as if she had given us the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I wasn’t so sure, as I didn’t much fancy being part of an extended experiment, if that’s what it was. I would speak to mum and dad about this later.

‘So, let’s return to practicalities. Your lessons will begin tomorrow and you will be continuing the same courses you were taking when you were in the boys’ school, but slightly shorter in length. This will enable you to have additional lessons that concentrate on your femininity. A uPad will be supplied to you for portable ’puter use especially at lectures and a mini uPad for your personal communications use. Your ’puter has a unique password which will be supplied to you in your pack. On your ‘puters and uPads you will find your schedules and any changes about which you need to know.

Also, there will be details of any treatments that are deemed necessary for you to undertake. Every morning, lunch break and before bed, you will be given some medicine and pills to take. Please ensure that you do take them as they will be monitored and are for your own good. Now, the rest of day is free and you may dress informally. Take a look at your clothes and try some on. Makeup is allowed when not in school time and extracurricular lessons are available for any beauty treatments that you wish to try and learn about. If you have any worries and problems, talk to your ’puter, Helper or, if necessary, your Unit Head. We are all here to help you have a smooth transition and above all, to enjoy the experience.’

With that, she beamed at us and then left the podium and walked through a side door. The lights faded up and we all stood up to leave. There was a buzz of conversation around the room as we left the theatre. Bethany and I didn’t say much while others were around us, but waited until we arrived outside Bethany’s room.

‘Want to come in?’ she asked.

‘Okay,’ I said.

‘Open.’

The door slid open and we entered. The room was a carbon copy of mine and we were soon settled in the easy chairs drinking Zinga and talking quietly about what we had been told.

Bethany looked up.

‘Tina, any chance of privacy?’

‘Sorry, Bethany, you know the rules, but I won’t say a word as long as you aren’t too naughty!’

I smiled at that, it seemed that every ’puter had a different sort of personality. Her voice was slightly higher than Helena’s and seemed younger, more bubbly, somehow.

‘So, what d’you think?’ I asked.

‘About what?’

‘The Principal: I notice she doesn’t call herself Headmistress.’

‘Same thing.’

‘You think so? I don’t know; and what about this special treatment The Chosen have?’

‘I don’t know. As long as it doesn’t like, hurt us and maybe gives us a chance to give birth to girls, I’m okay with it.’

I gazed at her and nearly said what was in my mind, but held back and said something else entirely; ‘So, you don’t mind the thought of actually giving birth to a baby?’

‘I think that would be like soooo neat. Me, a mum–how like, kewl is that?’

I shook my head–Bethany was obviously all girl already. ‘I’m still getting used to the idea that I have no male equipment except for a useless penis,’ I told her, ‘I’ll have to take time to accept it all. I wonder how David’s doing? Tina, can we visit David?’

‘No, sweetheart, she is still being–’ there was a brief pause–‘looked after.’

I wondered what she meant by ‘looked after’ but said nothing–was it some sort of counselling? I finished my drink and then got to my feet. ‘See you at lunch?’ I said.

‘Yeah, that’ll be great. I want to try on something pretty, will you?’

‘I suppose.’ I said, smiling sadly. I wished that I had been able to accept all this as readily as Bethany obviously had, but until I had at least spoken to my parents, I held back.

‘Open.’ I said and left Bethany to her fantasies.

When I got back to my room I sat in the chair opposite the ’puter screen.

‘Helena, can you try and reach my parents, please?’

‘Certainly, Rebecca.’

There was a pause for a few moments Helena came back.

‘Sorry, Bethany, there is no reply, perhaps they are in meetings.’

‘Can you keep trying?’

‘Of course, and I’ll leave a message on their vid and ’puter too.’

‘Thank you.’

I approached the wardrobe, said, ‘Open.’ and the doors slid apart silently.

I took off my uniform and sent the clothes down the laundry chute, leaving myself in just my bra and panties.

Searching on the right-hand side, I did a bit of exploration, and soon had clothes strewn over the floor, chairs and bed. They were all my size–natch–and went from the plain to the downright exotic. There were clothes for all occasions between almost slob–but not quite–to ball gown although I didn’t think that I would wear one of those in the near future!

In the end I picked out a strappy cotton top and denim skirt, finishing off with sandals on my bare feet. After putting everything on and looking at myself in the mirror, I gazed at my reflection. I didn’t look much like boy, more androgynous I supposed, leaning towards the feminine side. The hair style sort of reinforced the look and I must say that I didn’t think that it would take much to make me fully passable as a girl.

Sighing, I tore my eyes from the mirror and began tidying up. The place looked as if a bomb had hit it. After making the room more respectable I turned to the ’puter.

‘Helena, any luck with reaching my parents yet?

‘No, Rebecca, I am having some trouble getting through. I am trying different methods, but it appears that there is a communications breakdown at the moment. These have been occurring more frequently of late. I will let you know as soon as things improve.’

‘Thanks, Helena,’ I said, not really worried because, as Helena said, these things happen a lot.

I went over to the table by the side of my ’puter terminal and began glancing through the things that had been delivered while I was at the Induction.

There were loads of things to read and I didn’t much fancy that, so I set them aside for a bedtime read. Then I picked up the uPad. I had seen them before, of course. It was similar to the one that I had had at the boys’ school. As I touched the screen, the school crest came up. With a password box in the middle. Remembering that I didn’t have the password yet, I asked Helena.

‘It has been set to rebecca, but you will have to change it.’

‘Thanks, Helena.’

‘rebecca.’ I said to the screen and it immediately opened up with another box that asked me to type in a new password. I thought for a moment and typed in dadamummy912 directly on the screen using the type-pad that had appeared at the bottom. I was asked to repeat it, which I did and the screen confirmed that the password had been accepted and went into welcome mode.

There was a menu of quick-start items such as calendar, diary, schedule and notes, together with other apps which were considered useful. I was asked about my preferences, like did I want voice commands and responses or on-screen typing? I chose typing because you never know who might be ear-wigging.

Most of the rest was exactly the same as the one I had over on the boys’ side. In fact all my files had been transferred to this one, so I had my pictures, vid’s and music as well as my email and other personal files.

There was also a mini-uPad that evidently I had to carry around in the brown shoulder bag provided for me. Realising that skirts and dresses don’t usually have pockets; I thought that I would have to use it to carry things like my brush and other personal items as well as the mini uPad.

‘Lunch is in fifteen minutes, Rebecca.’

‘Thanks, Helena.’ I closed the uPad down and went to freshen up. After using the toilet and brushing my hair I was ready.

‘Helena, any news about India?’

‘Not yet, honey.’

‘How do I get to the restaurant?’

‘Follow the orange line and arrows.’

‘Are Bethany and David ready yet?’

‘I’ll ask–’ There was a short pause–‘David will not be going down for lunch as she isn’t ready yet, but Bethany will meet you outside her room.’

‘Thanks, Helena. Open,’ I told the door and it slid open. After picking up my bag and slinging it over my shoulder, I quitted my room. The pulsing orange line and arrows were indicating that I should go to the right, which was good, ’cause it passed Bethany’s door a few metres down the corridor.

As I approached her door, it slid open and Bethany exited. I raised my eyebrows when I saw that she had gone down the ultra feminine route and was wearing a pale pink calf-length dress, white hose and shoes with a low heel. She had her hair up with pink ribbons and also a small amount of makeup; something I wasn’t happy about doing for myself.

‘Hello,’ she said, smiling with glossy pink lips.

‘Hi, you look, erm, nice.’

‘Thanks, you too, though you can dress up a bit, you know.’

‘I know, but I’m still rather uncomfortable with everything.’

‘Sorry, I forgot that this is all new to you. I have been dressing up since I was six and it’s so nice to be like this all the time.’

‘Why didn’t you just wear the clothes when you were younger? There aren’t hang-ups about it. Many boys who are transgendered do it.’

‘Well, my parents being ultra conservative and orthodox have never really liked the liberal times and only allowed me to wear girls’ things in the house. Then when I came to school, I had to promise them that I wouldn’t do anything that would bring shame on them. Ridiculous really, but I love them and wouldn’t go against their wishes. Now though, things have changed and they’re proud that I’ve been chosen.’

All this was said as we walked to the restaurant. Others were going the same way too. People were dressed in all sorts of things from the formal to the informal and I was a bit alarmed that if anything I was more out of place than Bethany. The girls at the school seemed to love their femininity and dressed accordingly. I wondered if I would ever be like them and feel comfortable with all the satin, lace and ribbons. Sighing I thought that I must speak with my parents just as soon as I could.

We sat at a six person table with four other girls, there were two three-petals, and two four-petals apart from us, so there was a mix of ages. Everyone introduced themselves while we waited for our selected meals to come up through the server in the centre of the table.

When the meals arrived, I noticed that there was a little cup for everyone each containing three pills, also a small glass containing green liquid. The others took their pills and medicine without much thought and Bethany eagerly followed their lead. I hesitated and put the drugs by the side of my plate. I picked up the knife and fork and then a disembodied voice spoke up.

‘Please take your medication before commencing your meal, Rebecca.’

With considerable reluctance, I did as I was told and then continued with my meal. I wondered what the drugs would do to me and how soon they would begin to take effect. I nearly asked the others but I just left it. I would speak to my parents about it.

As the meal progressed, I listened to the conversations going on around me; everyone seemed to be talking about clothes, fashions and the latest trends. Makeup was discussed at length and what they would do when they left school; the predominant thought being finding a nice man to settle down with and most importantly, have children - preferably girls.

I could see that Bethany was lapping it all up and I tried to join in, but my heart wasn’t in it. I did wonder if I would ever get to be like these girls, accepting what was happening and revelling in girlhood. I knew that I had to make the most of my situation and hoped I would be happy one day. I felt for David who, obviously, felt much worse than I about things.

After lunch, I returned to my room, saying that I needed to speak to my parents. Bethany stayed with the others and didn’t seem to even notice much that I was leaving. I was a bit hurt at that, but realised that she was just excited about all of her dreams coming true.

Back in my room I sat down and shut my eyes for a moment. I must have fallen asleep, as the illuminated clock on the ceiling showed it was 17:30 when I awoke with a start.

‘Rebecca.’

‘Yes, Helena.’

‘Did you sleep well?’

‘Yes, I suppose I was tired and didn’t realise it.’

‘You have a visitor, will you see her?’

‘Yes.’ I said, thinking that it was probably Bethany, all bubbly and girlie.

The door slid open and my eyes opened wide with surprise on discovering my visitor to be the principal, Amanda Jones.

‘Don’t get up, Rebecca,’ she said as she came over and sat beside me.

‘I understand you’ve been trying to reach your parents?’

‘Yes. Helena hasn’t had much luck yet.’

She looked at me with compassion in her eyes and I wondered–with more than a little dread–what was going on. She grasped my hands gently; ‘I have been informed by Central Government that the borders of India have been closed and that our embassy is under siege. All messages and communications are being blocked and the situation is extremely tense. There have been strong protests by our government, but as such, appear to have fallen on deaf ears. Other embassies have been similarly affected, especially the U.S of A & C where there have been reports of gunfire. I don’t know what will happen, Rebecca, but as soon as we receive any news, you will be told.’

I stared at her with horror. All my worst nightmares were happening and there was nothing I could do about it. Tears started rolling down my cheeks and, in seconds, I was being embraced by the warm, soft arms of the principal.

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To be continued…

  

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My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing, help with the plot-lines and pulling the story into shape.