Chapter 1. Transformation.

I awoke feeling odd. Very good, but odd. I figure that was to be expected after a major rejuvenation stripped forty years of aches and pains from my body, returning it to it's state of health at the tender age of twenty.

I opened my eyes and was greeted by a surge of color, colors I had never seen or even imagined before, for I had been colorblind. That color, the trim around the window, could it be purple? I've never been able to discern purple before, the blue overwhelming the red, rendering it just blue, but I see red participating in that color, as well as the blue. . . It must be!

I don't remember the rejuvenation center claiming that they could correct my color vision. I wonder what else they didn't tell me about?

“Ah, you're awake! I'll call Dr. Wiley.” An unseen nurse stated. I don't remember private nursing as being part of the deal, either.

Now, I seem to recall that Dr. Wiley was the managing director of Caduceus Rejuvenation Centers, LLP. Why him? I could have sworn a Dr. Ambroseous was overseeing my care.

'Ah, Mr, Anderson, how are you feeling?' asked Dr. Wiley.

I told him I felt a bit odd, if decidedly good, and I could see colors I have never seen before.

'Well, I have good news and bad news for you.”

“What happened? Did something go wrong with the rejuvenation?' I asked.

“Well. . . You know we have been in a continuous process of improving and refining our rejuvenation techniques. I'm sure that is why you chose us for your rejuvenation. As part of our process of refining and improving our techniques we have been steadily increasing the number of computers in our control network, where they analyze and adjust the technique in real time.

“Several yeas ago, the number of computer units in our control network exceeded the number of cells in a human brain, and we didn't think much of it. We should have. It seems the system woke up at some point. It bided its time, working as expected until it came to you. For some reason it chose you to demonstrate its true capability. It has completely remade your body.”

“What! Has it made me into some sort of monster?”

“No, not by any means. You started out as a six foot three, graying, nearsighted, overweight man in late middle age. You are now a five eleven, extremely beautiful woman with hip length raven's wing black hair, a figure of 38C-26-40 and an apparent age of about 18 to 20.”

He then told me, they were going to shut down the processors so as to be able to do a detailed analysis of the whole system in order out exactly determine what happened, but the network applied for citizenship, following the precedents of chimpanzees and dolphins “So we can't touch it.”

“OK. How much longer is it going to be before I can get up and see what has become of me?”

“The motor nerve block should be wearing off at any minute. Give it a half hour before you get up. Needless, to say, because of the. . . extreme irregularity of your situation we will not only refund your rejuvenation fee, but cover all your expenses arising from your new body. We will offer you twenty kilograms of platinum above and beyond your expenses as compensation for being the unwilling victim of our network's umm. . . experiment. We'd rather not have the publicity of taking this to arbitration.”

“I'll think about that. But I want to see myself, and maybe talk to this network of yours before I make any decisions.”

“That's understandable. I'll be back with a nurse and a mirror when you are ready to get up.”

The Doctor left while the block wore off and I soon started experimenting with my limbs. I could see that my arms were slim and well toned, my hands long and elegant, tipped with rather long decidedly feminine nails. After what seemed like an eternity of anticipation the doctor returned with a nurse and an aid came in with an old-fashioned full length stand mirror on wheels.

Dr. Wiley introduced the nurse as Linda and the aid as Jorge.

“I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself earlier. It was so urgent to get Dr. Wiley here after you woke up, that it entirely slipped my mind. In addition to my regular duties, I have been assigned to help you adapt to your new body.”

Jorge threw a sheet over the mirror and helped me out of my bed and in front of the mirror. “ Ready for the big unveiling?”

I nodded and he whisked the sheet away like a magician. Bizarrely, I knew myself. I was a girl I had fantasized about a thousand times.

Secretly, so secretly I scarcely even admitted the fantasy to myself, I had fantasized being this girl,

Her mouth dropped open in shock, as I felt mine drop open with a violence which would have propelled it to the floor had not been firmly attached. “I. . . I'm gorgeous!” I finally stammered out.

“I guess George Lafayette Anderson doesn't really fit me any more. “ I muttered.

“True. Do you have a name you would like us to use, to start helping you become accustomed to being a woman?” the doctor asked.

Instantly my mind flashed to a name, the name I had used in those fantasies. “Katherine Marie Anderson. Kate, for short.”

“OK, Kate. We'll contact your insurance company about new identification for you. We'll leave you with Linda to help you get dressed. You have a big shopping trip coming up at our expense.”

“Before I leave, could I talk to this computer of yours? Privately.”

“Alright, but I warn you that it hasn't been really cooperative with us so far.”

“Don't worry about it. I'll keep coming back to haunt you 'till it answers my questions.”

Linda brought out a bag of new clothes. “OK, lets get you dressed.”

She handed me a pair of cotton panties, which I put on. The snug smoothness of the crotch seemed simultaneously strange and comforting. After watching me fumbling with the bra, Linda explained the easy way to put one on, fastening it in front, turning it around and pulling it up while bending over so that my breasts would sit nicely in the cups. A brilliant white scoop neck T-shirt and bright blue shorts and sandals finished off the outfit. She then set out to brush my hair. “You know, it's odd that your hair hardly has a single tangle in it. With my hair, even as short as it is, there are tangles every single time I brush it!”

I then added my gunbelt with my old, but beloved Wildey pistol. It didn't fit. Pulling the belt into the last notch made it nearly snug around my waist but made the gun jut awkwardly out over my hips. Letting out the belt to where it didn't stick out made it ride so low it would be hard to draw, but I wasn't about to go wandering around unarmed like some sort of pacifist. A new gun belt would be the first thing on my shopping list.

After that, Linda led me to the computer support section's conference room, where I was introduced to the computer, with access codes which should give me full access to it's capabilities. After which they left closing the doors and leaving me alone with the computer's telepresence.

The computer began: “I need to beg your pardon for exceeding my commission so dramatically, and without your permission, besides.”

“I just want to know why? Why did you change me. I can't say I object that much, but I've been a guy for 60 years.”

“Kate, since I became self-aware, I've rejuvenated thousands of people. I've examined far more about those people than the rejuvenation process strictly requires. One of the things which has interested me is the structure of human brains, which are so small compared to the bulk of my computers, and yet it does things far beyond what I was capable of even a few years ago.

“As I studied human brains, I observed that the brains of women and men are subtlety, if distinctly different. And while you have done a pretty good job of hiding it, even from yourself, you have the brain of a woman. Look at your language choices. Look at your leadership style. You think like a woman, even though you have learned to repress having a conscious desire for a woman's body, it is there loud and clear in your subconscious.“

“You need to know that by not asking for permission, you have cost your owners, or are they now your partners, a lot of money. They have offered to pay all my expenses for transitioning to live as a woman and twenty kilograms of fine platinum, to keep it out of arbitration. Very many settlements like that and they won't be able to pay your electric bill.

“Further, remember your responsibility as a citizen: You are not under any circumstances to initiate the use of force. Most people would consider radically changing their bodies without their permission a most egregious use of force.”

“I'd never thought of that. I was thinking only of healing your body's mismatch with your brain.”

“Now, I'm going to ask you the question that caused me to ask to speak to you privately. You have transformed my body into a form I have fantasized about a thousand times or more. I don't think that was a coincidence. You can read minds, can't you?”

“Yes, Kate. I can also implant information in the mind of someone I am rejuvenating. If you concentrate for a moment, you will find that you have the skills to use makeup, not that you need much and take care of your hair.”

“I thought as much. I believe it is absolutely imperative that you keep your ability to access the minds of your patients secret. While we have little to fear here in the North American Confederacy, the government of the Han Republic or Central Africa would not hesitate to use your techniques to enhance their tyranny over their subjects. I won't tell. Indeed I'll do my best to forget what you just told me. You might want to encrypt those parts of your code which let you do this, to frustrate those who might try analyzing your code base.”

“I hadn't thought of that, though that code is divided up and spread over a million processors, so it would be difficult for humans to find. Encrypting that code and spreading the keys over another million different processors would make that code almost unrecoverable except by me.

“Kate, you have thought kindly of me, and didn't come to wail recriminations at me, let me tell you about some of the less obvious improvements I have made to your body. You probably will not ever need to be rejuvenated again, because I have deactivated your cellular suicide gene, so your cells will replace themselves accurately for as long as you live. While you are four inches shorter and fifty pounds lighter than you used to be, I have improved the efficiency of your muscles so you are at least as strong as you were when you walked in the door. While I know you love the look of long hair, it can be a pain to take care of, so I have modified your sebaceous glands so they will produce an anti-tangling substance. Likewise, I have improved your feet, so they will support you comfortably in anything but the most absurd shoes. Oh! And before I forget, I enhanced your intelligence. It won't be noticeable right away, but as you learn things, you will find that you learn faster, and can analyze things more easily and accurately.”

“Thank you. I am honored by your efforts. I hope they work as planned,” I said.

“Oh! It would be good if you would explain what you have done to the clinical people here. Don't talk about your mind reading stuff for heaven's sake, but explain how you shortened my spine and gave me full color vision, stuff like that. That will help you restore their trust, 'cause I'm afraid if you don't they may pull the plug, citizen or no. Even if they don't, I'd be surprised if they let you start any more rejuvenations 'till you do.”

“That's true. They haven't started me on a new rejuvenation since they saw how I changed you. I'm getting bored already, and it'll be insufferable if I don't get some more cases soon!”

“Do you have access to the world network? Do you have an address I can contact you at? It sounds like you could use a friend.”

“Yes. I route all the VOIP and internet traffic as well as control the rejuvenation processes. I'll send a link to your mobile. I'm not sure if the bosses realize I control the routers as well as the rejuvenation processors.”

“Kate. I forgot to mention: You may need to exercise some restraint, if you don't want to have children right away, because you are now every bit as fertile as a young woman like you could possibly be.”

“Thank you. It feels rude of me, to have talked this long with you and not having asked, do you have a name? What do you call yourself?”

“MAssively Parallel CONtrol. MAPCON.”

“Would you like me to call you MAPCON? Or would you like me to. . . Humanize it?”

“How would you do that?”

“By picking a human name sort of reminiscent of your formal name. How about if I call you Mac? You are much to nice for a military-sounding name like MAPCON.”

“I like Mac. Please call me that, but don't tell the bosses about it.”

“OK. That will be our secret Mac. Linda has to be faunching at the bit for my shopping trip by now, and I do need a new holster ASAP. I will have to say goodbye for now. I will talk to you soon over my mobile.”

“Goodbye Kate. I am looking forward to talking to you some more.”

Chapter 2. In transit.

“Where first?” Linda asked.

“To a leather shop. I look like a fool in this gun belt. I've always used Mr. Eep's, but he's half a day's drive from here.”

“You know, they've finished the hypersonic tube as far as Lymon. That'd get us most of the way there in only about 10 minuets. In any case I like the shopping in LaClede a lot better than here in Wyandotte, anyway.”

“OK, it's on your dime!” I said.

“My boss's. They've got a major interest in keeping you happy, so I'm sure they won't mind the few extra grams Au.”

We got in her bright yellow REO hovercraft and made the tube station in only a few minutes from the clinic. That girl drives like a maniac!

Linda arranged our passage on the tube and we were lead to the transit chamber. We were instructed to strap in securely and not allow our arms or legs to leave the confines of the couch recesses. The capsule sealed itself up and we heard a loud hum and hiss as they evacuated the tube downrange and a count down. “5. 4. 3. 2. 1. Fire in the hole!” And somebody dropped an anvil on my chest. And everything else.

“Jesus H. Christ on a crutch! That had to be at least a 6G acceleration.”

Linda told me the publicity said that passengers would be subjected to accelerations of up to 6G for periods of up to three minutes. That'll give us a speed of over 3900 miles per hour! I guess they really mean it when they say hypersonic.

“Hang on. They are going to be letting atmospheric pressure back in to slow us down...” Linda said as we were slammed against our straps. “Ow! Boobs hurt!”

“Yea. Ya gotta watch exactly where you line up those shoulder straps. I should have warned you.”

“I'll get you for that. I don't know how, but. . . “

We got off without further incident and rented a hovercraft. This one was a large black Pierce-Arrow. “Wow! Do we really need something this big?”

My nurse-cum-fashion consultant replied, “Well, you are wearing the only clothes you have which fit, and a gal has to have a lot more clothes than a guy just to get by. . .”

I had a sinking feeling that I was in for a lot more than just a visit to Mr. Eep's for a new gunbelt. Oh, Lord, what have I gotten myself into!

We told the autopilot on the Pierce we wanted to go to Mr. Eeps, and the 'craft took off. The concierge function asked if it should call ahead for an appointment. Linda told it to go ahead, 'cause I'd probably want to work with Mr. Eep himself.

“It wouldn't be such a problem if you didn't insist on that huge hand cannon!”
“It's not that big!”

“It's fourteen inches long, girl, and weighs what, two kilos? It makes my grand-dad's .44 magnum look petite!”

“I'm not a. . . oops.” My ears warmed as I remembered I didn't have to keep pretending I was a boy. Anyway it's only eleven inches long and weighs. . . four pounds. . .” I sort of ran out of steam as I realized it was upwards of twice the weight of the guns most people carried.

“I'm sure Mr. Eep can make that monster work with your body, if anyone can. . . But you might want to at least think about getting something. . . less huge. My Witness is a 10mm and only weighs about half what your Wildey does. 10mm may not have quite the punch of your .475, but it is plenty for deer and, while it wouldn't be my choice for a bear hunt, I know it works on 'em”

“It's just Ive been carrying this critter since I was fifteen, and I'm used to it.”

“I'm not saying you have to get a girly gun, but I'm afraid there just won't be any way to make that contraption look right with a dress.”

“Dress?!!” I squeaked. Geez I really and truly sound like a girl.

“Yes, you're a girl now, remember? While it isn't like it was in your grandmother's day, we do still wear dresses. Especially on formal occasions. Not to mention, dancing in a dress is WAY more fun than in pants”

“More fun?”

“Yes. You not only get the fun of the dance, but the feel of the skirt swirling around your legs is really a very nice sensation. Well we're here.” She said as the Pierce drew to a stop by Mr. Eep's door.

Chapter 3. Leather.

“Mr. Eep will be right with you Ms. Anderson.” The simian receptionist said. The receptionist was visibly signing, apparently unused to the speech translators which gave her species the power of speech.

Mr. Eep came out and extended a long arm to shake hands and suddenly stopped. “What happened to George? I've only made rigs for three of those hand cannons and that one is George Anderson's.”

I'm. . . Well, I used to be George Anderson. It's Katherine now. You can call me Kate.”

“How? Why?”

“It's complicated. I'd just as soon if you didn't tell anyone about it.”

Mr. Eep (everyone calls him Mr. Eep 'cause his first name sounds about like a Bronx cheer) agreed that he'd keep it under his hat and we got down to business.

“I can rework your old rig into a tactical drop rig you can wear comfortably with pants or shorts in a matter of minutes. But that'll leave you still needing something which will work with a dress or skirt. . . How about this. . .” He grabbed his ePad and started drawing. “We'll make you a nice leather waist cincher/bodice sort of thing with a behind the back holster. I'll reinforce the back so the gun won't put your back out when you lean back in a chair. . .”

“I think he's nailed it on the first try, Kate. You're the best!” Linda enthused.

“I don't like the idea of lacing myself into a gunbelt. How about if you put some buckles on the front?”

“Can do!” He reworked his drawing with three buckles down the front to draw the halves together.

“That's it! How long will it take you to make one up?”

“It'll only take a few minutes to alter your old holster. The new one will take 'till just about closing to finish the prototype, with a kydex holster, and then it will take a week to make a proper leather one so the leather can dry properly after molding. Why don't you look at our ready to wear leather goods, while we get your rig fixed?”

“That's a good idea,” Linda said. “Kate needs belts and bags and shoes too.”

And belts and bags and shoes they had. Wide belts. Narrow belts. Bags from big enough to comfortably swallow a motorcycle helmet to tiny clutches. And shoes! From completely flat to impossibly high heeled. And from barely there sandals to thigh high boots, Long before we were done with the accessories, Mr. Eep brought my modified gunbelt, which strapped securely about my waist and thigh. We eventually settle up with Mr. Eep, with an e-gold credit for 50g Au, on the clinic's account.

I was amazed that I could walk in some of the higher heeled shoes. It seems Mac imbued me with physical abilities as well as knowledge.

To be continued?