Fragrance,
by Armond

Smell is surer than sight or sound. - Kipling
 
 
Author's note: for a cleaner pdf version of this story, please click here
 
 

Part 2

TUESDAY 5:00 P.M., GENTECH BUILDING 'A' BASEMENT, CONFERENCE ROOM 1 ENTRANCE

Gentech's barf green hallway carpet was getting a good workout from my nervous feet; where do companies get this stuff, anyway?

Julia asked me to 'wait here,' while she cleared me to attend her emergency conclave of mad female scientist. Full disclosure: she actually called it her Operating Committee, but since I hated pacing around while a bunch of people I didn't know chitchatted about me, I'm free to label them as I please.

Didn't sound like the 'clearing' was going smoothly; there was a lot of shouting, and not in the happy way. I definitely didn't hear any 'hip hip hoorays.'

Also, I scented fear wafting from the room. Does fear have a scent? Opinions vary; some scientists say what is 'sensed' by animals is 'fear' body language rather than a smell, while others claim the body emits an 'alarm pheromone.' All I can tell you is, in my old Sidney body, I could smell panic in others if the situation was extreme -I hated flying because of this- but as a woman, I was picking things up much clearer. Serious angst was happening inside that room.

Finally, the door opened, and Julia stepped out. I couldn't read her face; she had a smile going on, but it was twisted a bit.

“Look, if me attending is going to upset the cosmic balance, I'm happy to go to my room and knock back some wine before our dinner.”

“No, it's okay, I-” Julia stopped mid-sentence and gave me the oddest look. “Sydney, you would never betray me would you?”

Betray her? What was she talking about? Why the hell would I ever do that?

She brushed my cheek with her hand. “Your expression says it all; betrayal isn't in your psyche. I'm sorry I asked.”

“What's going on here Julia? I smell big time fear. Is it these rapes, or-”

“-You can smell fear? Amazing.” She looked at me with her scientist eyes, the kind she wore when she peered into her microscope at amoebas. “Yes, rapes are the worst crime that can be inflicted on a woman, and these appear to target us. The deeper fear you sensed, however, has to do with Project Y being exposed. That was the major push back to you coming in this meeting.”

“I bet Deirdre was leading the charge.”

Julia nodded. “She did object, but she also told the committee that after working with you today, she felt you could be trusted.”

I didn't expect that from the egg head/drop dead gorgeous/ second in command of whatever. Maybe I'd fallen off her, 'people I'd like to see burning in hell' list.

“Project …Y? I thought GAP was the big deal here. I swear, Julia, you scientists with your damned acronyms! I'm going to write 'em all down on a bingo card, and then, if I hear 'MASG,' 'GAP,' and 'Y in a meeting, I'll shout 'Bingo!”

“Don't make any jokes in this meeting, Syd. You're about to learn that Project Y is the most critical issue happening on our planet,” Julia said. Then her voice turned soft. “Our situation is complicated by the fact that, several months ago, I underwent a psychiatric evaluation, and was diagnosed as borderline schizophrenic. What I told the committee was-”

“-Wait!” I grabbed her arm. “Julia! Don't kid about something like this!”

“Calm down, sweetie, my condition is still in the early stages, and several treatment options exist, including a gene therapy treatment idea I've been kicking around. However, with the unalterable Y deadlines we face, drugs, therapy or a sabbatical are not options. I told the committee I need you with me for support, because you are the nearest thing on Earth I have to family. This is dumping a lot on your shoulders, but you ground me in a way no one else can. I need you, Syd, here and now.”

My eyes grew hot. “You feel that way?”

“No, more than that…” Julia held my face in her hands, “you are my family.”

Emotions flooded me - stronger than anything I'd felt in my old body- and I threw my arms around her. She hugged me tight right back.

“I knew you felt the same way.” She let out a big sigh.

A thought popped in my head. “Why all this worry about betrayal? What gone down here to cause this paranoia?”

“We've been infiltrated by three spies we know of. Deirdre became our ad hoc security chief to monitor threats.”

I'd heard industrial espionage was a real problem in the biotech industry, but actual cloak and dagger spies? Wow! “So these spies are in jail now?”

“Mmmmmm …no. They learned too much about Y, and so …we dealt with them.”

“Julia!” I whispered. “You didn't …kill them, did you?”

“Sydney! Such a male way of thinking! We believe in the sanctity of life here; it's what Y is all about. Let's just say they won't be talking to anyone for a while.”

“So …you have them locked up somewhere?”

“You could say that. Enough. Everyone is waiting. We need to address these awful rapes and then get a Project Y status download. Syd, you'll be hit with a crush of information -a lot of acronyms, as you say- so please behave, be brave, and no yelling bingo.”

“Yes, Mama.”

Her body tightened and her eyes turned wet. 'You know …I like it when you call me that, daughter.”

I smiled. “And I kind of like it when you call me that.”

She leaned over and kissed the top of my head. Then, taking my hand, she led me in.

'Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition.'

I almost blurted it out when I walked in, but I bit my tongue. Why? Because I'm a good girl. I hoped Deirdre noticed.

Twelve. I counted twelve women seated around the gleaming slate conference table, a few dressed in pantsuits, more wore lab coats, and all were glaring at the intruder in their inner sanctum.

Me.

These weren't just any women. On the trip down after our meeting with Styles, Julia gave me a briefing of who I would meet - the world's top female geneticists.

Intimidated? Moi? You bet your ass.

Julia cleared her throat. “With our little housekeeping matter out of the way, let's proceed: I've called this emergency meeting because of the gravity of the situation,” Julia said. “Two of our colleagues, our sisters, have been raped. Lauren Weston and Kara Morgan.”

A buzz saw of anger erupted from the group. Julia held a hand up for silence. “Dr. Rogers has investigated the incidents and has spoken to both. Deirdre, tell us what you've learned.”

Deirdre straightened her lab coat, did a quick primp of her Beckensale black hair, and somehow managed to look pissed, fierce and sexy all at once.

“The assaults happened last night; Lauren's at 8:30 near the pond and Kara's at 10:45, as she was returning to 'A' from the fitness center.”

Questions flew from around the table. “Why wasn't this reported earlier?” “Someone must have heard this happening.” “Were they hurt?”

Deirdre waved them quiet. “One at a time! First, Lauren and Kara suffered no physical injury, thank God, but emotionally? They're devastated. Two of our strong minded women have had their confidence ripped away…” As Deirdre's voice trailed off, she started clenching and unclenching her fists.

“But how? How did this happen?” asked the woman to the right of Julia; her GAP ID badge read Margie Treadway, Assistant Director. Margie was keen-eyed, with a plump face and wavy brown hair. “Did the assailant use a weapon to subdue them?”

“Rather than describe the incidents, let me show you. We have security camera footage of Kara's attack.

She clicked a button on a small remote she'd picked up, and a beam of light shot from the ceiling to the center of the table, quickly forming an image. This was a 3D holographic projector? Holy shit, these gals have all the cool toys.

The image was fuzzy, the lighting poor, and the distance far enough away to make the figures tiny, but I could figure out what was happening. I watched a female figure leave the fishbowl 'G' building; when she stopped, another figure, a man from the look of his body, approached her.

Something weird happened next. The woman dropped her gym bag, literally ripped off her t-shirt and sports bra, and dropped to her knees. Then she started lunging for the man's crotch. The man backed into some building shadows and out of site, and the woman followed, scrambling on her knees.

Deirdre pressed a button, and the image fast-forwarded, to show the man reappear from the shadows, straighten his pants and stride away. Deirdre forwarded again, and the woman emerged from the shadows, clearly disoriented. She barely managed to scoop up her top before she staggered out of camera view.

The room turned so quiet I could hear the hum of the overhead fluorescent lights. Deirdre broke the silence.

“Note the poor quality of the video feed. The fact the assailant is unidentifiable. Now look at a live shot from this camera.”

She clicked the remote again, and an image reappeared in the center of the table, showing people entering and leaving 'G' in late afternoon sunlight. Only this time, the figures were crisp HD quality.

“Obviously, someone knows we've tapped into the security system and is playing us, feeding us the images but altering them so we can't identify the assailant. I suspect it is Styles who's onto our tap, but, I have no proof.”

“Was Lauren's assault similar to what happened to Kara?”

Deirdre nodded. “Her attack happened exactly this way. They were drugged to be made compliant and …extremely willing.”

“What? Like a date rape drug?” asked a voice from across the table. In my elevator ride briefing, Julia told me about Sarah Martin, Gentech's General Counsel. The ebony skinned woman was immaculate in her blue pinstriped suit. She had the air of one who'd fought many battles but lost few.

“Far more powerful, as we just observed, and acting instantaneously,” Deirdre said. “Lauren and Kara became mindless slaves, or …'bitches in heat' might be a better description I'm just not sure. It's one reason they took so long to report it; they weren't sure what had happened.”

“Are you talking some kind of mind control?” I blurted; holding my tongue had never been a virtue of mine. In my defense, I was trying to wrap my brain around this, and Deirdre's references sounded both oblique and ripped from a bad Sci-fi novel.

“Yes, that is an apt description, they were stripped of their free will.” Deirdre nodded. “They remember having an uncontrollable sexual attraction to their male attacker, and did anything he asked. Anything. What's more frightening, is Kara is a lesbian.”

“Oh dear! Were they able to give the authorities a good description of the man?” Alcina asked. She sat to the right of Margie, and her wrinkled face had whitened.

Deirdre shook her head in anger. “They can't remember his face; somehow their memories are as fogged as the video.”

“Let me see if I've got this straight,” said Astra, the young woman sitting two chairs to my left. Julia had given me her ten-second background on the elevator ride as well. Astra had been a science prodigy, entering MIT at age 12. With numerous piercings and a salmon pink lab coat that matched her pony-tailed hair, Astra was the anti-scientist. Naturally, I like her instantly.

“This drug or agent turns a woman, any woman, into a mindless fuck slave?” Astra continued. “And her memory can be wiped so she doesn't remember the rapist? Could we be any more screwed? Um ...no pun intended.”

“As a matter of fact, yes, we could,” Julia answered. “Mr. Styles let me know these rapes are his ticket to getting his slimy ass into ‘A’. He believes the police will figure out they need to look around in here, and he plans to slither in with them. Like Deirdre, I believe he is linked to these attacks. How odd, how coincidental, that, at this exact moment in our efforts, someone armed with a highly sophisticated compound begins assaulting building 'A' women? Sarah, how do we stop Styles?”

“If the police show up with an executed search warrant, they will come in,” Sarah answered.

“Unacceptable,” Julia said. “You must prevent this.”

“I'll try for a preliminary injunction, and argue like hell for trade secret protection.” Sarah shook her head. “It’s weak; our legal position improves if we prevent more rapes from occurring.”

“No shit, Sherlock!” Astra said. “How are we supposed to do that?”

“Ladies, if I may be so bold ...we represent the greatest collection of female scientific minds on the planet,” Julia said. “We must determine what this 'mind control' substance is, and develop counter measures. So my fellow geniuses, what could trigger such a reaction?”

“Do you mean ...could this be a gene triggered response? Something like sex pheromones?” Margie titled her head. “Bad cologne ads aside, Julia, the power of 'pheromones' have been exaggerated; at best, male sex hormones may put a female slightly 'in the mood,' certainly nothing like this.”

I could feel the electricity charging thorough group's collective neurons. And when Julia started drumming her fingers and staring at the ceiling, I realized I was witnessing the Nobel winner in her infamous 'brainstorm' mode.

“Okay…here's a quick and dirty,” Julia said. “For grins, let's say someone did develop a pheromone that genetically triggers a primitive response in a woman's lizard brain-”

“-Lizard brain?” I had to ask. “Help your scientifically challenged lab rat here; neurobiology is so not my area.”

“The brainstem, to be precise, the lower part of the brain,” Julia said. “It's something we mammals share with, well, lizards. Very primal, controls responses like fight or flight.”

“Gotcha,” Made sense to me. “So this pheromone triggers, what, in the brainstem?”

“A mating instinct perhaps? So powerful, the urge overwhelms or by-passes the neocortex, and goes straight to the limbic brain,” Margie offered.

“Um, again, mere mortal here. Terminology, please?” I tried not to whine, but c'mon, throw me a bone!

“The neocortex is the thinking part of the brain, you know, the part you seldom exercise,” Julia said with a grin. I would so get her back for that later. “And the limbic is the emotional part. So if someone did produce a pheromone that tapped into our mating instinct, one so powerful it shut down our cognitive thought, our emotional brain would take over and we become …”

She paused to let the words sink in, to which Astra gave a disgusted grunt, “pliable, open to suggestion, and driven by a single purpose …to fuck.”

“Okay, good, we're getting somewhere; this fits what we viewed,” Deirdre said. “How would the pheromone be delivered? A spray, maybe?”

“Without knowing more, we couldn't say,” Julia answered. “Did the victims want sex with any male handy, or only the attacker? The man might be emitting a scent which draws a woman uniquely to him. Maybe he ingested something, and these amped sex pheromones are emitted through his sweat glands, creating a 'signature smell.'”

Signature smell? This sounded like something I should be aware of. “Who has the knowledge to develop something like this?”

“Well, some of us here do, theoretically, and a few others in 'A' could as well.”

“This gets worse and worse; we could be looking at a traitor,” Deirdre said. “Who else in this field could come up with such a substance?”

“Not many, a dozen? I'll make a list, and then we'll start cross-referencing to identify likely suspects.” Julia furrowed her brow. Then her jaw clinched. “Margie, suspend the GAP work for the time being. Have the team concentrate on mapping the gene that is activated by such a compound, and design a countermeasure to prevent it-”

“Julia! Without the compound itself, that's looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack,” Margie said. “No, actually, the odds would be better for finding the needle.”

Julia held up her hand. “I understand the enormity of the task, but we've got to do something to come up with a defense. Deirdre. What can we do to prevent more attacks?”

Deirdre's forehead furrowed. “For starters, we'll tell all 'A' residents to implement the buddy system; no one goes anywhere unless accompanied by another. Also, we can beef up camera surveillance for 'A'; we install our private perimeter cameras immediately, then feed them into to our existing internal monitoring system.”

“Make it happen,” Julia said. “Sarah, delay, delay, delay. Don't let the police, and Styles, in here.

After Sarah nodded, Julia looked at Astra.

“A Project Y update, if you please. Talk to me, Astra.” Julia's eyes looked desperate for good news. “Tell me you've found data proving we were wrong, that degenerative Y syndrome isn't widespread, or spreading rapidly, or-”

“-We are so fucked.” The Goth scientist apparently wasn't going to deliver the news Julia wanted to hear. “At first I couldn't replicate your findings when I tested the African samples, and I got excited. Then Beth and I suspected the new culture medium we were using was affecting the results. When we tweaked it, wham! degenerative Y appeared. It's everywhere, Julia.”

“And the infertility rate for Africa?” Deirdre asked.

“Confirmed. Doubling annually, same as everywhere else; we're up shit creek.”

“Dammit!” Julia slammed her fists on the conference room table. Then she sighed. “Can't fight the data.”

It finally dawned on me what they were talking about. “Are you saying humans, worldwide, are becoming infertile?”

“Yes, Syd, though the rates are so low now no one else has connected the dots, what our group has discovered is, on a species wide basis, the human Y chromosome is disappearing. We suspect a virus is the culprit, and at the current rate of infection, will cause the chromosome to vanish in, say, forty years? The window of opportunity to stop it, the tipping point, is right now though.”

“But …if the Y gene disappears then …does the male gender goes away too?”

“Exactly,” Julia answered. “No more males, no more babies. No more babies, game over; bye bye human race. Maybe the dolphins will do a better job of things with us gone.”

“Whoa, stop! Back up. I mean, my God! If we are looking at the extinction of the human species, why aren't you screaming this to the government or the UN or something?”

“I think I mentioned this yesterday, Syd, based on the typical patriarchal response we've seen to the Global Warming Crisis, it will be years, decades, before the governments of the world formulate a response. WE DON’T HAVE THAT KIND OF TIME!”

End of mankind? I couldn't believe what I'd landed in! I thought I was here for an amazing holiday; for smelling some stuff, I got to be a girl for a few days. Instead, I’d been dumped into an end-of-days drama.

“Sorry to be so melodramatic, Syd, but, neither will I sugarcoat it for you.” Julia turned back to Astra. “I guess it would be too much to hope we've had any luck identifying the virus causing this?”

Astra shook her head, causing her multiple earrings to flash in the light. “We're striking out here. On the bright side, at least Al Gore will be happy; in a couple of generations, we'll pretty much be left with geezers, so carbon emissions will drop waaaay down.”

Julia ignored the comment without a flinch; maybe years of suffering quips from me had made her immune. “I didn't want to do this so soon, but we're going to have to merge the GAP and MASG teams. If we are going to create a counter virus to shift the sex determining part of Y to another chromosome, each chromosome must be mapped so we know exactly what we're altering. I do not want to go down in history as the woman who ushered in a mutant zombie apocalypse.”

“You're merging GAP with MASG? Your 'turn a guy into a nose girl so she can smell things' project?” Astra asked. “Heh. Nose Girl. I like it.”

Nose Girl? When I dreamed of being a superhero as a kid, 'Nose Girl' wasn't how I saw it shaking out.

“God you're uncouth; you make her sound like a gigantic pair of nostrils,” Deirdre said, and then turned to me. “Don't listen to her; your nose isn't big at all, it's …pert and cute.”

“Cute?” Astra said. “Why, Ms. Spock, if I didn't know better, I'd say you let an emotion slip out.”

“Stop, you two,” Julia said. “Deirdre, make sure the teams are combined after Sydney's testing is complete. Astra, I want you to switch gears to explore ways for us to deliver a counter virus into the mass population.”

Julia stood. “Back to work, ladies. We are under attack, and, for humanity's sake, we cannot lose this fight. Meeting dismissed.”

I sat stunned and silent after everyone had left but Julia. Finally I whispered,

“You …you …really are trying to save humanity, Jules!”

“We are. Everyone in this room, in this building is. You are too. This is what my work is all about.”

She took my hand in hers and stroked it gently. “GAP is making amazing gene mapping discoveries on an almost daily basis, but we're still like kids playing with the fires of creation. And you know what happens when kids play with fire...”

Her eyes bore into me. “Get some rest before our dinner. I need you energetic and focused in your testing; I've always seen MASG as a critical puzzle piece to the Y problem. We need any and all information we can get. Understand ...Nose Girl?”

I nodded my head; I finally got it. The stakes were mind numbingly high, and this once, I could actually contribute something, I could make a difference. Still, though ...Nose Girl? There had to be a cooler name.

Wow! Am I that petty? Here they are, describing the potential end of humanity, and I'm worrying about my 'super' name.

I guess I am, because it really bothered me. Sure, I'd have my male body back in a couple of days, but how would that help? Instead of Nose Girl, I'd be, what? Nose Guy? The Smell Meister? Super Sniffer? Having an unglamorous super power sucked.

No, sorry, 'sucked' is the wrong metaphor for Nose Girl to use...

It stunk.

My first full day as a woman had been a roller coaster, and I had high hopes for some R&R before my dinner with Julia. After the meeting finished I shuffled to my room, to find Deirdre had beaten me there. She leaned against the hallway wall, with arms crossed, giving me her pissed off sexy look. Uh-oh.

“What do you want? I've been a 'good girl'. I haven't talked to a soul, so the hallowed Building ‘A’ experiment is safe.”

“You must stay in your room tonight. That's an order. Julia will join you here later for dinner.”

“What? No no no! You don't understand; I need fresh air! I want to get out, go to the gym, maybe, see what this body can do.”

“You are dense,” Deirdre said, pushing off from the wall and toward me. “You will stay in. Pop some popcorn, slip your red silk number back on, curl up on the couch, and watch Steel Magnolias; you can order it on demand. That ought to give you a good idea about what the hormones of your cute little temporary body are capable of.”

“You're joking, right? That's a recipe for insanity. Wait! You know about my chemise?”

“You don't get it! A day ago, you would have been a suspect, but in this cute body? You are a prime target.” Deirdre ran a hand through my hair. Prime...”

I pushed her hand away, and then shoved past her to my door.

“Point taken, you don’t want me here, but these Gestapo intimidation tactics border on hate.”

“I do NOT hate you, but if you are too stupid to appreciate the danger then-”

“-Good NIGHT Dr. Rogers,” I screamed, and slammed my door.

TUESDAY 7:20 P.M., GENTECH CAMPUS - WOODED WALKING PATH NEAR BUILDING B.

I chanted my new mantra as I strolled down the sidewalk:

Screw Deirdre Screw Deirdre Screw Deirdre

I had dreamed for months about the fun this switch would be, and I wasn't going to let her ruin it. Sure, the whole rape thing was horrible, but Deirdre over dramatized the danger to cow me into staying in my room. I may not have been Jet Li as a man, but I could take care of myself. And anyway, it wasn't like it was midnight and I was walking down some seedy ally. The sun was shining, and green grass and wide open spaces surrounded me.

The sun sat low on the horizon and a cool spring evening was settling in. GenTech wasn't far from the coast, and I loved breathing in the ocean-salty air, though I was the only one who could smell it this far inland. I hadn't changed from my jeans and blouse, but wore a green North Face windbreaker for warmth. Already stepping out seemed like a good move.

I jumped when I heard his voice.

“S'cuse me, Miss? Can you help me?”

A man appeared from a merging path; not tall, under six feet, brown wavy hair and goatee, he wore a navy blue Nike workout suit and running shoes.

“I'm trying to find building G, could you point me in the right direction?”

He had a sweaty smell, which wasn't surprising, from the way he was dressed, but he also had an odd minty odor…

“I'm a visitor here myself, but 'G' is…”

Something bothered me; I felt flush, though I didn't know why. There was so much about my body I didn't understand.

“Miss? Are you okay, Maybe can help you?”

Something was wrong with his smile. I took two steps back.

“No …no, I'm fine, I …uh…” Did I smell a spermous scent too? I … thinking was hard, because there was something I had to do …now.

“Maybe you want something? I have just the thing.”

I blinked. Was I looking at his …pants? Was I wanting what was in them?

I stopped breathing through my nose, switching to take air through my mouth. The world stabilized, and whatever hunger had attacked me dulled.

“Stay away.” I heard my voice rasp, and stumbled backwards off the path, onto the spring grass.

Something was horribly wrong here, and I had to get away. I managed to pick myself up and start staggering toward 'A'.

“Maybe I didn't take a big enough swig?” I heard him mutter behind me. “Let's see what a double dose does.”

I heard his shoes slap the sidewalk and then felt hands grabbing my arms. I struggled to pull away, but the strange odor was back, much stronger now, blowing away my resistance. The smell, I …couldn't think …I …”

“Yes, breathe the nectar.”

One thought burned my brain. I needed something, needed it with all my being. Only he had it.

“Pleeeease,” I moaned.

He released me. “Take your jacket and shirt off.”

I wasn't sure if I unbuttoned or ripped them off, but they were quickly on the grass.

“Now the bra and jeans. Panties too.”

They came off even faster.

“Nice.” He licked his lips. “You couldn't be much more than …eighteen? You're the most fuckable piece of ass I've seen here.”

A distant part of me realized I was naked and crawling to him, but I couldn't stop.

“It's right here baby, all hard and ready-”

I reached for top of his workout pants and pulled them down, freeing his stiff cock. That's what I needed!, my brain told me. I wrapped my hands around the thick shaft.

“Open wide-”

A clanging sound made me blink; in the distance, something flashed yellow and red.

“What the fuck?” the man said, pulling back. No! Come back. Need!

“Back away from her or I'll shoot,” a woman's voice echoed from far away.

“Shit!” He jumped back farther and yanked his pants up.

I pawed for his pants again, grabbing a hand instead, and …there was something small in it.

“Please, please…” I croaked.

“Rain check, little slut. Gotta run.” He grabbed me hard. “You do not remember my face.”

His words made my eyes go fuzzy, blurry. I couldn't focus on him. “Don't …remember…”

He released me and I slumped to the ground. The sound of him running away, the realization the thing I needed was gone, made me frantic.

“noooo …come back…”

I heard footsteps; someone was running to me. It dawned on me my body was shivering.

“Sydney! Are you alright?”

Deirdre's voice brought some of my thinking brain back online.

“what- …what's happening?” Why am I naked and lying in the grass?

“Dammit, I should have watched you closer.” Deirdre wrapped her arms around me and pulled her close. Her body heat felt so good. “Did he …rape you?”

Rape? Did he?

“He …I don't …he didn't …go in me, but I took his … I… I wanted to…” I flung my arms around her. “Oh God!”

“Sshh.” Through my shivers, Deirdre managed to get my clothes back on me. At some point I realized the clanging and flashing lights were the GenTech security station alarms.

“Let's get you inside before the Security goons show up.”

“Security? They'll …question me about …and I'd have to tell them I…” Panic overwhelmed me as I pictured creepy Styles asking all sorts of questions. “Get me out of here!”

“I've got you, love, let's go.”

“Wait!” When I reached for his c-” no way could I even say the word, much less what I almost did with it. I shook my head then uncurled my hand. “When I reached for him, I grabbed this.”

Deirdre took the small vial and held it to her eye. “Empty, but we'll get the composition of this stuff from the residue. If it's any consolation, you may have given us our first real chance to stop this bastard.”

TUESDAY 8:40 P.M. GENTECH BUILDING A, DEIRDRE ROGER'S FLAT

I tried to answer Deirdre's questions, but my mind was in off mode and wouldn't switch back on. I'd try to concentrate, but my thoughts floated away. Then I smelled cinnamon. When Julia's arms wrapped around me, I hugged her back hard, and buried my head in her chest.

“What do we know?” Julia sounded winded; I wondered if she had sprinted to Deirdre's room.

“Sydney was assaulted, just like Lauren and Kara. I set off the panic alarms and scared whoever he was away before he had …intercourse with her, but it was still bad. He made her strip and crawl to him.”

“Change me back,” I whispered, “right now. I want to go home.”

“You're safe, baby, shhh,” Julia said, and stroked my hair.

“I'm done, Julia, I can't take this!”

Julia had the saddest look on her face when she nodded her head, and I immediately felt like shit, but it didn't change my mind. I did not sign up for this.

“If you still feel that way in the morning, sweetie, I'll change you back.”

Deirdre opened her mouth to say something, but stop herself. What did she want from me?

“Can you remember what the man looked like?” Julia asked.

“No, it's …when I try to remember, it's a blur.” I couldn't; my head filled with white noise when I tried to think about his face.

“Just like Lauren and Kara,” Deirdre said. “Dammit! Why did I let her out of my sight?”

“Not your fault; I should have listened,” I whispered.

“What kind of substance can do this?” Julia said, then her body stiffened. “Wait! Looked like? God what an idiot I've been. Deirdre, it's Sydney, let's ask her what she remembers from her other senses.”

“Of course!” Deirdre said, excited. “Sydney, what does Julia smell like to you?”

I wasn't sure where this was going, but I was too numb to argue.

“Cinnamon.”

Julia's eyebrow raised. “What's this about?”

“She assigns smells to the people she likes and dislikes as a way of classifying them. Right Sydney?”

I gave a little nod, but didn't raise my head from Julia's chest.

“Cinnamon, hmm?” Julia stroked my hair again. “And Deirdre?”

“Roses.” I whispered.

“Interesting,” Julia said, “So this is your short hand version of us, of our scents?”

I gave another jerky nod.

“For you, everyone has a unique scent signature, right?”

I nodded again.

“Now the rapist …if we were back at the lab, how would you categorize him?”

“I told you I don't…oh …ohhhh,” I finally got it; God am I slow! I closed my eyes. When I thought of his scent, the white noise faded. “Um …a musky smell, intense, maybe 84 on the LM, but also, a minty odor, with a 60 rating-”

“-You'd recognize his scent again if you were around him?” Deirdre interrupted.

“Absolutely. He smells like SHIT to me.”

“What can you tell us about the odor that caused you to lose control?” Julia asked.

“You mean the one that made me want to fuck his brains out?” I hadn't meant it too, but my voice turned shrill.

I saw Julia shoot Deirdre a worried look. “Er, yes.”

“A spermous smell, the first time maybe an LM 45? But then-”

“First time?” Deirdre asked.

“When he first came up to me, I knew something funny was happening, so I started breathing through my mouth, and was able to run.”

“Smart girl,” Julia said.

Deirdre had a 'light bulb going on' look on her face. “Because …breathing through the mouth bypassed the … the smell receptors in the nose? This could be a useful defense technique. I'll pass it along to everyone in A.”

“It only worked for a little while. He said something about it not being a big enough dose, and he drank from the …vial I gave you? He grabbed me and I …lost control …and …and…”

“Oh, honey, I'm so sorry this happened to you-” Julia said.

She unwrapped her arms from me and stood. Then she pulled Deirdre to the other side of the living room. Though they were talking in low tones, I heard them; everyone focuses on my crazy mad smell sense, but my hearing is damn good too.

“I've got to get this vial down to the lab to see if we can pick up a residue; we've got to figure out what the hell this stuff is and what we can do to neutralize it. Probably an all nighter. She can't be left alone tonight,” Julia whispered, “so I want you to stay with her.”

“I need to go to the OPs room to check the monitors. We should expect a knock at our front door for sure from Styles, and-”

Julia shook her head. “-I'll call Samantha and have her go down; YOU STAY HERE! She's in bad shape; a sexual assault wasn't even on her radar.”

“I understand, and I won't let you …or her …down again,” Deirdre said. “No one will hurt her. NO ONE.”

That roused my from my lethargy; Deirdre almost sounded territorial.

TUESDAY, 9:10 P.M. GENTECH BUILDING H, DEIRDRE'S ROGER'S FLAT

The white noise was back and getting worse. I think I'm sitting on Deirdre's couch, but everything is fuzzy. Deirdre keeps asking questions, and I feel my lips moving, but I'm not sure what I'm saying. I feel her bump me and realize she is sitting next to me.

“Why were you outside alone?”

“Stir crazy. Needed air.” I heard my voice whisper. “Went for a walk.”

“After I warned you not to?”

I nodded but didn't look up.

“So you ignored my warning and put yourself at risk. What would have happened if you had been injured or killed? A lot of time and resources have been invested in your participation in Julia's project. Did you think of your obligation to her?”

“No, I …didn't …but-”

“You were irresponsible and immature. Since you can't behave as an adult, I’ll treat you as a child.”

“I …what?”

“You've been a naughty girl. What happened to naughty girls in your family?”

“Wait …naughty? W-what do you mean?”

“In my family, naughty girls got a spanking.”

In a quick move, Deirdre whipped me face down over her knees, and twisted one of my arms behind my back.

“Hey!” The white noise was gone now. “This isn't funny, let me up!”

I felt Deirdre rubbing her hand on my upturned ass. “After you say 'I've been a naughty girl.'”

“Jesus! Someone just tried to-”

--SMACK--

“OW! That hurt! This has gone far en-”

--SMACK--

“Ye-OW! Stop it, dammit!”

But Deirdre didn't, until six stinging spanks later when I begged,

“Stop …please? I …I've been a …a …naughty girl.” Salty wet pooled in my eyes.

“Cry for me.”

“Cry? Haven't in years. Don't think I can.”

--SMACK--

“It wasn't a request: Let. It. Out.”

I didn't mean to; it just started happening: first my body shuddered, and sobs hiccupped out. Deirdre lifted me up and held me to her chest, rocking me back and forth.

“There's my girl, all out.”

Everything spilled out in gushes. “Why? Why did I crawl to him? I'm not really a woman and I'm not gay, but I wanted him …to …to …what's wrong with me, am I sick?”

“Shhhh! You were in heat, needing to mate. You were as primal a woman as they come. Relax. You're safe with me.”

A sigh left my lips, and I nuzzled deeper into Deirdre's chest.

She didn't seem to mind at all.

“Hey! I'm hungry!”

Energy suddenly filled me and I untangled and bounced up from the coach.

“Have you eaten?” I asked, as I headed for her kitchen. “Let me rustle up something special for my knight in shining armor.”

Deirdre raised an eyebrow, at my giddiness, I guessed.

“You realize you are having a manic episode, most likely a counter reaction to your trauma.”

I ignored her. “I'm not a bad cook, you know.”

I'm sure she did know; it must have been in my dossier; ‘Sidney’ drifted for years after leaving Julia's project. I dropped out of college, moved to Province in southern France, and became, among other things, a wine taster, a perfume fragrance consultant, and a sous chef.

“I don't have anything exotic,” Deirdre said, when she heard me rustling around in her pantry, “just basics. I usually have time to woof down a protein and something green.”

“How sad for you,” I called back. “Hey, bonus! You've got French bread that hasn't turned furry, semi fresh tomatoes, and garlic cloves; I can do some damage here. Any fresh herbs? Where's your olive oil?”

“Dried herbs are in the spice cabinet. Why did you have to go for a walk, Sydney?”

“Staying in stale buildings wears on me; I truly do need fresh air. Why did you have to lock me up?”

I wasn't sure what she said next, but it kind of sounded like: “The better to keep you to myself.”

“What?”

“I said, 'the olive oil's on the top shelf,'” she answered, in a louder voice.

“Ah! Great, thanks.”

Ten minutes later, I walked back into the living room, plate in hand.

“Viola, fresh Bruschetta.” I sat next to her on the couch.

“That smells wonderful; what's the composition?”

Composition? Jesus, these scientists are annoying!

“It's so simple. You slice the bread, drizzle on oil and pop it in the oven. While it's toasting, you dice some tomatoes, a little garlic, toss in a dash of oregano, basil -I love basil- parsley, and spread it on when the bread is done. It's so much better with fresh herbs.”

“Okay, so, hand one over.”

“Ah-ah. Close your eyes and smell.”

Deirdre took a deep breath. “I smell garlic.”

“Duh. And?”

“And …the basil, and the oregano? And-”

“Good enough, now with those scents in your mind, and with eyes closed, open your mouth.”

When she did, I slid a piece in. “Slowly, Deirdre, it's not a race; chew slowly.”

“Mmm,” Deirdre said, after several crunches. “The flavors are so rich.”

I sighed. “We smell and taste so little of what we eat.”

Oops! A tomato piece spilled off a bread slice. When I picked it up, Deirdre brought my hand to her mouth and licked the tomato off, then she leaned over and kissed me. For perhaps the fourth time in my life, I was speechless, only blinking in response.

“What the hell am I doing?” Deirdre growled as she pulled back. “Sorry; I shouldn't have done that. You've just had a traumatic experience, and I jump to intimate mode and presume to-”

I barked a laugh. “You spanked me! I'd hardly call an innocent kiss 'presumptuous' after that.”

“Yes …erm …about spanking you. I'm sorry I resorted to that, but you were in shock and I felt I needed to deploy some radical treatment to-”

“-Look, since I'll only be female a few more hours, we don't have scads of time. I'd like the memories of those hours to be something wonderful instead of what that bastard tried to do to me. And I never said I didn't like the kiss, I did; I was just surprised. I’m guessing by your kiss you are into girls, and, since I am one for the moment, let's try it again; I'm ready now.”

Not only ready, but primed. But when I leaned toward her, she drew back.

“No! You were sexually assaulted, for God's sake! Instead of further twisted relationship complications, you need a good night's rest. You are going to bed, and that's an order.”

I considered pressing the point, but shrugged instead. I couldn't keep up with her mood swings, and after what had happened to me, I didn't have the energy to try.

When we finished the Bruschetta, Deirdre led me to her bedroom. She gave me a T-shirt to sleep in that barely covered my butt; and for some reason, I got feeling Deirdre liked looking at me in it.

Good. Because I didn't want to be alone. Since I remembered I now had big green eyes, I tried to use them to my advantage.

“Sleep with me. Please?”

“No, dammit, no!”

Deirdre pushed me into the bedroom and closed me in.

“Where will you sleep?” I called through the door.

“Here on the couch. Where, instead of getting much needed rest, my mind will be dreaming of a beautiful blond-headed woman, in and out of a T-shirt, all night long.”

Wait! She was talking about …me? How coincidental. Because I knew I'd be dreaming of a beautiful dark haired woman, in and out of a white lab coat -and nothing else- all night long.

I didn't though. Or I did, but only for a little while.

Then the nightmare started; a faceless man was chasing me, down corridor after corridor in building 'A', his hands getting closer …reaching for me …closer, until…

Hands were shaking me.

“Sydney! Wake up! You're having a bad dream. You were screaming.”

“He’s coming for me, he’s-”

“-Shhhh, it's over, you're safe.” She stared at me a moment, and then nodded. “Okay, you win. Scoot over.”

I grabbed her and pulled her into bed. “Thank you,” I whispered, and didn't say another word.

But with Deirdre's arms around me, and the fragrance of roses surrounding me, I drifted into a dreamless sleep.

WEDNESDAY 6:56 A.M., DR. CARTER'S OFFICE, BASEMENT, GENTECH BUILDING 'A'

“Did you know there are hundreds of pheromones with which insects attract their mates? I bet you also weren't aware there are spiders that produce a moth sex pheromone to lure the poor things to their sticky silky death?”

The clock's little hand hadn't even reached seven in the morning - until this visit to GenTech, I didn't know the day had two 7:00s in it- so no way could I formulate a response to Julia.

Instead of launching a clever retort, I sat back and looked at her across her way too neat desk. From her dark circles and red eyes, she looked like she hadn't gotten a moment of sleep. More than that, she looked defeated. Deirdre, who sat next to me, was charged with anger energy; I assumed it was because she was pissed at me.

When I woke this morning, she had reverted to the 'cold' Dr. Rogers -God, was this woman bi-polar or what?- and was all business about hurrying me to Julia's office. We hadn't spoken except for one brief argument. I wanted to go back to my room to shower and change into fresh clothes, and she said no. Her reasoning was there was no need, since I soon would be converted to my male 'Sidney' body. She grudgingly compromised by letting me wear some clean workout pants and another t-shirt. I looked absurd.

“I assume you have studied the composition analysis from the vial?” Deirdre asked.

Julia nodded wearily and pushed a printout across the table. When she did, though, her eyes were on me instead of Deirdre, and they were so sad.

“Peptides αsk1 and αsk3? I don't recognize this compound.”

“It is a synthetic pheromone,” Julia said. “Humans produce small amounts of natural pheromones. Men secrete Androstenon, which, as we speculated yesterday, is delivered through sensory receptors in the nose, to stimulate the hypothalamus in the cortex of the brain.”

“Excuse me? Is there any chance I could stimulate my brain with some coffee? That way I might have a fighting chance to decipher your gibberish.”

“Sure, Syd,” Julia mustered a smile. There's a Starbucks machine in the kitchen station down the hall.

I nodded, and bolted away for a cup. Didn't need directions, because I could follow the smell; I was like one of those old cartoons where the character floated through the air when she got a whiff of apple pie. When I returned, with the elixir of life in hand, I found my two scientists were deep in the science shit; Deirdre was shaking her head as she stared at the printout.

“...then this compound will increase a woman's arousal by a factor of 10 over Androstenon! This will set woman's rights back a thousand years!”

“Factor of 10? That's huge, right?” I said, plopping down again.

“Think about the difference between David Banner and the Hulk, Syd, and you'll have a fair comparison,” Julia said.

“Let’s make a pact that from now on, you'll reduce every scientific explanation to a comic book analogy? It would make things so much easier.”

“I would agree, but since you won't be here for much longer, what’s the point?” Julia said, and then sighed. “Are you ready, Sydney? I've been stalling and shouldn't delay you any longer. The GAP lab is prepped and ready for your reversal. I'm so sorry; I should never have put you in harm’s way!”

“No, I am not ready. I cannot go looking like this!”

“Syd. You'll just wear that a few minutes longer before you-”

“-Nuh-uh.” I held up the wrist that had the pumpkin countdown watch. It blinked 54:05. “I have tons more minutes. I will not be seen like this.”

Julia's puzzled expression was priceless; Deirdre's too. They acted like I was speaking in tongues. Score! God how I wished I had brought a camera!

“I don't understand, sweetie, last night you said you wanted to be changed back and I thought-”

“-That was last night. This morning I woke up mad as hell...”

I had. The idea of what he had done, to me, and far worse to the other women, made my teeth grind. Could I run out on my friend? She placed her faith in me, and it was my stupidity that put me at risk for what happened. When was I going to take responsibility and see something through? Now might be a dandy time, since, you know, the fate of the world might actually hang in the balance.

“…and I'm not going to be run off by the bastard! You said the data from my experiment was critical to Project Y, right?”

“Yes, but that was before-”

“-No buts! I need to be going to the MASG lab, but not before I shower and change. I mean…” I primped my bedheaded blonde hair. “…a girl's got her priorities, ya know?”

Julia jumped from her desk seat and ran to hug me.

“Are you serious? Please say 'yes' because, I can't bear to say goodbye to you like this.”

I smiled at her. “I've never been more serious. I'm going to finish the MASG tests and help you in any other way I can; use me like a blood hound to catch this creep…”

Hmm. Blood Hound. The Blood Hound. Catchy, sort of sexy and noir. And soo much better than Nose Girl. But then, anything would be.

“…or whatever. You've got me for every last tick on my watch. After that? When I'm back to Sidney? If we haven't caught him, I will track him down and beat the shit out of him. I’m here for you, Jules, no matter what; I’m not going anywhere.”

She touched her forehead to mine. “Thank you.”

Deirdre's ice expression had melted. “Why didn't you tell me this when we woke up?”

“I tried to, but you went all android on me with one word responses.”

“I only did so because I thought I was losing you forever and-”

Julia's phone rang; the call ID screen read 'Richard Styles'.

I could tell Julia's blood pressure jumped at the call; she grimaced and pressed the conference call button.

“Yes Mr. Styles? Hopefully you are calling to report the rapist has been apprehended?”

“You should be so lucky. I was calling because GenTech's panic alarms were activated last night and I received an anonymous tip your assistant -the one I met in our meeting yesterday, Cindy Johnson?- was sexually assaulted last night. Do you have any information for me on this?”

I frowned; how had he learned this? Julia and Deirdre looked baffled as well.

“Yeah, this is …Cindy, and, no, nothing like that happened to me.”

“Reeally?” His voiced dripped with sarcasm; he knew I was lying! “Excellent news, then. I would again caution you, Ms. Johnson. Or ...is it Sidney Edwards?...”

He knew!

“…Your inexperience with that beautiful new body makes you especially vulnerable to the attacker. Please be extra careful.”

Wait! Was he threatening me? I felt Julia's arms wrap around my shoulders. The look on Deirdre's face though… I was wrong when I first met Deirdre and thought from the glint in her eyes that she wanted to kill me. Because, the way her eyes were boring into the phone? She wanted to slow roast Dick Styles over a bed of hot coals.

“If you have specific information relating to a danger to Ms. Edwards, I suggest you share it with her, Mr. Styles.”

“Ah, Dr. Rogers! You are there too. Of course you are.” Styles chuckled. “You and your play security team have a real live threat on your hands. What will you do?”

We heard the phone click as the bastard hung up on us. Julia squeezed my hand.

“Dammit dammit dammit! We are compromised,” Deirdre said. “The fact he knows about you confirms we have a spy.”

“I'm afraid Deirdre's right, Syd. If you are being targeted, then maybe you should get changed back anyway,” Julia said, her voice going sad again. “While we know what the synthetic compound does, we don't know how to block the mating response. It may be weeks before we map the gene affected by this. If the attacker hurts you again I don't think I could forgive myself.”

“CP404.”

“What?” Julia and Deirdre said together.

“It's a temporary fix. CP404 is an experimental weight loss spray I learned about a couple of years ago. Guys with expert noses like me in the fragrance biz keep a close watch on stuff that deadens the sense of smell; our living depends on it. The idea behind CP404 is to coat the olfactory bulb in the nose that controls smell and taste...”

'Olfactory bulb.' See? See? I know stuff too!

“... to suppress the trigger to eat. If you have a reduced sense of smell or taste, you eat less. So if you get this formula and increase its potency, to, er, Hulk strength, the gals in 'A' will be immune to the scent. And they'll drop a few pounds too; win, win!”

They stared at me like I had a horn growing out of my forehead. Score! Finally, Julia managed to speak.

“I think that might actually work. Sydney, that's brilliant!” Her face was beaming now, and not tired at all. “I love the simplicity of it. You …really are going to stay?”

I resisted the urge to stick out my tongue at Deirdre; there would be plenty of opportunities to infuriate the egg-headed and uber hot scientist later. This was my noble moment, so I tried to make my smile as bright as I could.

“Yup. I'm ready to help you save the world. Or, I will be, once I shower and get some decent clothes on.”

Julia and Deirdre burst into laughter. Maybe it was a second wind. Or maybe they were recharged because I hadn't bailed. Whatever the reason, the fire was back in their eyes.

WEDNESDAY, 7:40 A.M. SYDNEY EDWARD'S FLAT, BUILDING 'A'

“Coming!”

I had just stepped out of the shower when I heard the doorbell. I threw on my bathrobe and went for the door. When I got a few steps away, a dual scent hit me, of roses and roses. Weird.

“Coming ...Deirdre.”

When I opened it, a dozen red stemmed flowers were thrust in my face. What the hell?

“Those are, um, pretty-”

“For you,” Deirdre said, handing them off. “I wanted to …to thank you for the spray idea you came up with. That truly was a fantastic idea. You can't know how relieved everyone in 'A' will be to have this protection. The gals in the GAP lab are springing into action to get the formula and start producing batches.”

“Glad to help. No one should be made to do what that bitch scent does to you.”

Deirdre looked at the flowers in my hand. “Aren't you going to smell them? That's the normal reaction a girl has when she's given roses.”

“I already did, through the door.”

An awkward silence settled in.

“So ...I also wanted to thank you for ...staying.”

“Yeah, like I told Julia, I-”

Deirdre grabbed me and pulled me to her for a kiss.

Not just any smooch, it was a 'tongue deep inside the mouth, take no prisoners' kiss. I tried to push away, but when I couldn't break her grasp -okay, I didn't try that hard- I gave in and kissed back.

When I finally came up for air, I squeaked, “Jesus! When you thank someone, you really thank them.”

“Sshh,” Deirdre said, and pushed me against a wall. “You are so pretty I could eat you up.”

I gulped; I didn't know how to respond to that; I'd always been on the other side of those compliments.

“Er, yeah thanks, I-”

Deirdre put her hand over my mouth.

“What can I say? The spanks probably clued you that I’ve got kinks; I'm a dom; an obsessive compulsive control freak. When I see something I want, I take it. Right now, I want you, to come with me to the Founder's Ball tomorrow night.”

I blinked. In the Deirdre mood pendulum, she was swinging way back to the hot side. “You're asking me …on a date?”

“I suspect since we are in lockdown mode, whoever is attacking us will be forced to wait to strike at the Ball. So we need Nose Girl to be on guard duty tomorrow night. You said you'd recognize him again if you got his scent, right?”

“Yeah, definitely.”

“Even in a large crowd?”

“Even in Times Square, on New Year's Eve, at midnight.” I didn't think I was exaggerating; my smell sense had improved that much. I hoped to God this wouldn’t involve wearing spandex and the letters ‘NG’.

“Excellent, perfect!”

My shoulders sagged. “So, that's the only reason you are asking me?”

In answer, Deirdre pushed me against the wall again, kissing me roughly. Something about the way she held me, commanding and possessive, sent electricity zinging through my new body.

“O-okay, so business and pleasure.” The breathlessness of my response surprised me. “I'm good with that.”

“There’s my girl. Tomorrow, after you finish your MASG work, I'll take you out to get a dress. I've got just the one in mind.”

“I brought several outfits; surely one of those would work.”

Deirdre shook her head. “No offense, but I've looked through your suitcase and what you brought is pretty ...boring.”

“You looked through my-”

She stopped my lips with a couple of playful slaps on my cheek.

“If you are going to be my date, I want you looking hot. Also, it will be easier for you to detect the attacker’s smell, if the fly is drawn to you, honey.”

“You ...always seem to have dual purposes for everything you do.”

“Oh, and babe, wear that red silk number again for me tonight; you look ravishing in it. Be sure you stand in front of the mirror and twirl around.”

“Wait …what?” Understanding cracked my thick skull. “I knew you had a camera hidden in here.”

“What did you expect? I am Julia's evil enforcer,” she said, as she left my room.

A date. Deirdre asked me on a date. And I wanted to go. With her.

I stood staring after the closed door, mouth open, flowers in hand for the longest time.

Surrounded by the scent of roses.

End Part 2

***