I was living the good life. It was winter break for one, which meant school was out and the mountains were all right there, just waiting for me...

Disclaimer:
~The Center universe and any original characters from it that appear here belong to Lilith_Langtree.
~Any similarities to real people, etc are coincidental and unintended. In fact, I’ll be as surprised as you are.
~Characters or lines taken or paraphrased from published works are their creators’ property.
~Any characters I create for The Center universe are open for use by anyone else also writing in The Center universe, but please don’t maim/kill without asking. ;)
~Also, the use of paintball equipment in the story is fictional and not necessarily true to real life play. Certified paintball masks should be worn when playing the sport and a paintball gun —loaded or not- should never be pointed at anyone not wearing such a mask. I love the sport, so please don’t get the wrong idea about it from this story.

Author's Note: This is the first story I've put before an audience, so constructive criticism is very welcome. Please be gentle. ;)

The Center: Guardian
Chapter One

Location: In the Colorado Rockies mountain range about eighty miles from Denver, on a snowy mountainside.
Time: December (Five months after Chapter 1 of The Center)

I was living the good life. It was winter break for one, which meant school was out and the mountains were all right there, just waiting for me. Living in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains of Colorado almost obligates you to get out and enjoy them whenever you get the chance, and I was happy to do that today. There were plenty of sports to seek out in the mountains about twenty minutes from my house, from fly fishing the Big Thompson River to whitewater rafting down the same to hiking or even hang gliding if you knew where to go. In the fall there’re more types of hunting than you can imagine and now, during winter, skiing and snowboarding take the western half of the state over like a fever. But today I wasn’t doing any of that. No, today my friends and I had gathered to play the best game of them all: paintball.

I have to admit, I am a bit obsessed with the sport. Why else would I be bundled up in four layers of clothing while huddled in the shadow of a blue spruce halfway up a mountain, my eyes scanning the trees for movement through the shaded lens of my mask? It was a blast. Besides, the cold just meant I could wear more clothes- therefore the paintballs hurt less when they hit and didn’t break on you as often. The low temperature didn’t really count as a drawback in my opinion. After all, it’s Colorado in December. Frozen, achy fingers and cold-seared lungs are part of the package no matter what you’re doing.

Looking around, I couldn’t detect any movement in the trees, so I twisted around and waved. My three teammates rushed forward to join me, running from tree to tree in the inch of powdery snow that had fallen the night before. We’d been playing this way for a couple of years now, and our group of guys had naturally split into two distinct teams. Somehow, for reasons I can’t fathom, I ended up in charge of our side. Not that I’m complaining. Squad leader can be a really fun job.

Gregg, my best friend and the team’s sniper, glanced my way from his new post behind the next tree over. I could almost see his exhilarated smile through the mask that protected his face. He’s as crazy as me, of course. Why else would he be here?

I nodded to acknowledge his glance, then took my left hand off my paintball gun and flicked it up the mountainside, “Lead on.”

“Sure thing, Commander Skywalker.”

I grimaced and tossed a quick snowball his way. Ever the joker, Gregg decided to combine the facts of my name, Luke, and my position on the squad in order to make Star Wars references whenever possible. The fact that I did better than anyone else at dodging shots that should have hit only improved the comparison in his mind. Worse, several other members of our team had picked up the habit of calling me that as well. I’m as big a fan of Star Wars as any other guy, more so if I’m being honest, but it did tend to get old after a while.

We advanced up the mountainside, traveling sideways as we ascended in an attempt to out-flank the other team. Unfortunately, I’d misjudged their positions. That mistake cost us pretty dearly.

My team was spread out along the top of a ridge when the other squad ambushed us, attacking from good cover higher up the mountain. The pops and bangs of their guns firing echoed off the next mountain over as paintballs started whizzing by my head. My first reaction was to yell out as loud as I could, “Get down!” My second was to dive behind a convenient snow bank. I was on the far left end of our skirmish line at the time, so I ended up on the other side of the ridge than the rest of my team.

I picked myself up as soon as I landed, brushing snow off my gun and turning to return fire. I had to duck again almost immediately as another barrage of paintballs dug grooves in the top of the snow bank where my head had been, throwing plumes of powder into the air as they went. Popping up for another look, I spotted two members of the other team pretty quickly and forced them to duck with a quick volley of paint. A glance up to the peak of the ridge showed at least one of my teammates, Robert I think, was already walking back down the mountain with his gun held high and a ragged orange splatter decorating his chest. ‘Crap. I didn’t want to lose anyone this early.’ Not that I really wanted to lose anyone at all, of course.

“Player’s out! Dead man coming through!” Yeah, that was Robert all right. Getting shot again once he was out was a major pet peeve of his.

One of our opponents stuck his head up from behind a boulder, scanning the trees to see where we’d gone. I didn’t have a shot, but at that angle Gregg might. “Gregg, big rock at your eleven o’clock!”

I didn’t hear the quiet shots, but I definitely saw the player’s head jerk at the impact. A moment later he stood, raising his gun.

“Good shot, man!”

“Thanks, Luke. Watch your one o’clock! One’s moving up.”

He was right. A figure in white, hard to see against the snow, scuttled down the ridge to a couple of small pines that stood clustered together. A moment later the player poked his head and gun out of the trees and fired at me.

Not good. I had no cover at this angle, so as he started shooting I instinctively stood and began to turn to run left. I was a bit too late, though.

Every so often when you’re playing paintball there are moments when your adrenaline spikes and everything slows down- or you become almost superhumanly fast. I’ve never figured out which it really is. The cool part is that when it happens, you can even dodge paintballs that are coming right at you- no mean feat considering they’re flying at 300 feet per second and only traveling about thirty yards sometimes.

I felt the world slow down around me as my eyes focused on the small blue-green ball that was headed straight for my head, the thin line where the two halves of its shell met rotating as it came. There wouldn’t be any amazing dodge this time, though. It was too close and the snow made my footing too uncertain.

I still tried anyway, throwing myself backwards and to the side as hard as I could, willing the paintball to miss me. Incredibly, it did. I watched, still in slow motion, as its trajectory changed like it had ricocheted off a wall and it spun away off to my right at a right angle to its previous flight path. The impossibility of that shocked me and completely overrode my concentration. As a result I didn’t even see the second paintball before it hit the plastic of my mask below my lens. This was both good and bad. Aside from the fact that I was now out, at least I could still see since it hadn’t hit my lens. On the other hand, that paintball had annihilated itself on the air vents right in front of my mouth and about half of its lime green contents had continued through said vents and into said mouth. In case anyone ever wonders, paintball paint -while nontoxic- does not taste good at all.

That was all a minor issue, though, as I quickly found out. The powder we’d been playing on was just the most recent snowfall- underneath was a good foot and a half to two feet of packed snow. It built up on everything and created false ledges and overhangs. If you weren’t careful you could step out onto these and your body weight would break them off, providing you with a very fast, very uncomfortable, and possibly very deadly ride down the mountain.

I landed hard on the back of my left shoulder. I’d no sooner registered that I’d been hit than I felt the snow under me jerk. The false ledge crumbled away in an instant, sending me tumbling down the mountainside in my own personal mini-avalanche.

I spent a wild couple of minutes that seemed like hours skidding and rolling through a cloud of powder and small chunks of packed snow. When it finally ended I was amazed to find myself only half buried and with all my gear still on my person. I wasn’t hurt either, which seemed a miracle given all the boulders that littered the slope. Pulling myself upright, I spat green paint onto the pristine snow and gasped for air. In my relief I completely forgot about paintballs pulling impossible stunts.

A lot of people in this sort of situation freak out at the prospect of being alone halfway down a mountain in the middle of the wilderness. That’s actually a really bad idea even when it’s true, but in this instance it wasn’t. We weren’t that deep into the mountains and, the Rockies being as settled and commercialized as they are, I knew all I needed to do was head down hill and find a road. From there I could circle the mountain back to the parking lot where we’d left our cars. That’s not to say it wasn’t a dangerous situation, of course, but I could handle it. Little enough snow had gotten into the inner layers of my clothes that I was pretty sure hypothermia wasn’t a big worry this time.

I studied the neighboring mountains, trying to judge where I’d come down. As near as I could tell I was on the southern face of the mountain, so I needed to turn left and go about a quarter of the way around once I found a road. We’d parked at the foot of the eastern face, just a mile or so off the highway. ‘I wonder…no, there’s no way I’m going back up.’ Looking up I noted the steep terrain and the newly stirred snow that could hide any number of potentially fatal obstacles. I’d be an idiot to try climbing back up the mountain here.

Slinging my gun onto my back, I started trudging down the slope, wending my way from tree to tree in an attempt to stay on well anchored snow. I pulled my cell out of one of my vest’s many pockets as I went. Unfortunately, as expected, there was no reception. Technology’s come leaps and bounds in the last couple of years, but cell towers still aren’t much of a match for a twelve thousand foot tall pile of granite. I shrugged and popped the phone back into its pouch.

Fifteen minutes’ walking found me standing at the edge of the road I’d been sure I’d find. It wasn’t a paved road for vacationers or commerce, but an old logging road. The mountains were positively riddled with them. It was a great find because, in use or not, roads will take you somewhere eventually. As I stepped out onto it and began following it down, my calves chimed in with their relief at being on relatively level ground for the first time in hours.

As I hiked I reached back into another pocket and, pulling the Velcro tab open, withdrew a small plastic bag. Within lay my snack of choice: beef jerky. It made the perfect snack in my opinion, being light, tasty, and a pretty good source of energy. I opened the bag and pulled out a piece about the size of my palm and off I went again, chewing happily at the tough meat.

I enjoyed the scenery as I walked. It really was beautiful country, after all. Actually, gorgeous was more like it. There’s just something about mountains. Their size and grandeur, their inherent danger, and their strong, stark beauty all draw a person in. When they were like this, covered in snow, was even better. The bright afternoon sun reflected off the ivory snow banks in a spray of shining reflections that almost made you think the drifts were made of diamond. The pine and spruce trees stood tall, the stark contrast in color making them appear to be black from a distance. Every so often you’d find a swath of brown where trees had been killed off by the pine beetles that had quietly ravaged the forests of Colorado for the last couple of years. Above all that was a clear, blue sky. I’ve never known why, but something about the snow covered mountains makes the sky turn this amazing shade of blue. It makes you feel like that peaceful sky just goes on forever.

‘So. I’ve led my team into an ambush, been shot in the mouth, and fallen down a mountain without getting hurt. I don’t think this day could get much crazier, to be honest,’ I thought to myself. ‘ I’m definitely running a hot bath, grabbing a book, and just laying back to read and relax when I get home.’

A couple minutes later I noticed the faint roar of an engine. ‘Odd. I know the guys will be looking for me, but that doesn’t sound like any of their vehicles, even if they did find this road.’

I chided myself as the roar got a bit louder and, therefore, closer, ‘Beggars can’t be choosers, bud. Just be happy that a vehicle’s coming at all. It’ll save you two hours of hiking, most likely. Besides, maybe the guys found someone else around to help out.’

After a few minutes the sound of engine got very close until, rounding a switchback in the road, I saw a positively huge black SUV coming up toward me. I stopped and waved, smiling at the prospect of the SUV’s heater. My nose and ears were completely numb and I looked forward to rubbing warmth back into them.

The SUV approached at about ten miles an hour- pretty reasonable, given the terrain. I studied it as it came closer. Odd that I couldn’t recognize the brand or model. I’d thought I had a pretty comprehensive knowledge of the common auto lines.

I shrugged the thought off and smiled again as the SUV stopped about fifteen yards away. I began walking toward it as the passenger door opened. A guy about ten years older than me stepped out and extended a hand with a smirk.

I was about to step forward to shake his hand when I noticed it wasn’t empty. He held a 9mm pistol pointed straight at my chest.

I stared in shock for a moment before realizing he might be reacting to how I was dressed. Maybe they hadn’t met my friends yet after all. Offering a nervous laugh, I held my hand out with fingers spread and palms showing, “Whoa, there man. It’s all paintball gear. I don’t have any firearms.” Pointing a thumb back up the road, I continued, “I kind of fell down the mountain earlier while playing with my friends. I’m trying to get to the east slope. We parked over there. Any way you could give me a ride?” Normally I wouldn’t talk quite that much, but can you blame me for being nervous?

The guy’s smirk got…I don’t know, more self satisfied? “I know it’s not a firearm, Lucas.” He waved the gun slightly, “This, however, is.”

‘Uhh…not good.’

The guy tipped his head toward the SUV, “Get in, Lucas.”

“The name’s Luke, and if you think I’m going anywhere with you, you’re crazy.” ‘He’s holding a gun on you, idiot. Now’s not the time to act like a stupid teenager.'

Now his smirk was decidedly unpleasant and his voice had an edge to it, “Get in the car, Lucas.”

Suddenly I heard another sound- another engine. The roar of the SUV’s engine must have masked it, because from the sound of it whoever it was must be getting close to us.

I swallowed hard, hands still open, and shook my head, “No.” Then I waited for his reaction, staring at the pistol and wishing with all my heart that it was pointed somewhere else. I imagined it flying out of his hands into the trees.

No one was more shocked than me when my wish came true. The 9mm wrenched itself out of the thug’s hand and spun away through the snowy forest. ‘Good luck finding that,’ I thought to myself distractedly. How the heck did that happen?

The thug’s reaction was plenty of surprise mixed with a whole lot of anger, “Shit! He’s hit First Emergence! We don’t have time for this. Take him down!”

‘Not good…Man, I’m thinking that too much today. Too bad I’ve got good reason.’ I thought to myself as I took off in as close to a dead sprint as I could get on the semi-icy road. I pelted past the thug, trying to get by and get closer to whoever it was that had followed them up the mountain.

I didn’t get too far. A gun fired several times, its booming report putting my paintball gun’s to shame. I felt more than heard the first few bullets whizz past me and bury themselves in the trunks of trees further down the mountain. Then fire erupted in my right arm and thigh and I pitched to the ground face first and slid. Fortunately I still had my mask on, which kept me from scraping my face up.

I rolled over weakly and saw blood pooling under my thigh and forearm pulsing from a rather nasty hole and a deep groove respectively.

My leg was useless, of that I was sure. My arm hurt like hell, but I could move it and operate my hand. Only one thing kept me from the temptation to scream in pain and curl up into a blubbering little ball: I was freaking pissed! ‘I’m not about to lay here and let these psychopaths murder me. Not when I can shoot back.’

My paintball gun had fallen down from where I’d had it slung over my right shoulder when I fell. It was easy enough, if incredibly painful, to gather it in my hands and turn it back toward my attackers. I felt tears leaking out of my eyes as I turned my gun on the thug, who had given chase and was almost on top of me now.

I don’t think he honestly expected me to fight back. Adrenaline pumped through me, giving me sudden clarity through the pain and fear. I aimed quite purposely and pulled the trigger as fast as I could.

The first three or four shots landed exactly where I wanted them to: the thug’s crotch. He did the most natural thing in the world- he screamed and collapsed while his hands shot down to the offended area. That worked out quite well. He collapsed forward and my next few shots trailed up his torso. The last three smashed into his face as he folded over at the waist.

The thug fell by my feet, groaning in an unnaturally high pitched voice and cussing me out under his breath.

More shots rang out, missing me thankfully. I looked up to see one of his buddies in the SUV aiming a pistol at me. The other, sitting in the driver’s seat, appeared to be speaking urgently into a radio.

Before they could shoot again another SUV, also black but smaller, skidded around the curve below. Its engine revved as it came toward us.

That seemed to panic my attackers. The one with the pistol jumped back in their car and it started moving. It didn’t go far, though, swinging broadside in the road before the two goons within hopped out and took cover behind it with what looked like assault rifles.

Beside me, the thug noticed the newcomers through his pain. I saw him reach for something in his jacket, then he pulled out a very small pistol. I thought momentarily of the holdout blasters seen so commonly in Star Wars books. This was no fiction, though. His voice grated as he swung it toward me, “I’ll kill you for this, mutant freak.”

I didn’t have much choice. It was going to come down to who shot faster and, in my case, more accurately. I lifted my gun from where it rested in my lap and fired, the sound lost in the roar of the pistol.

Both of us fell back, but only I groaned. My vision darkened at the edges when I pushed myself up to look at him. He lay with his arms spread out wide, blood and paint mixing in the crater that used to be his left eye. ‘Yuck.’ I became aware of a burning sensation in my chest and looked down. The material of my coat was ripped on the left side, about halfway up my rib cage. As I watched a dark, wet stain spread from the area.

‘Okay. So he got me, too. Damnit, dying was not on my To-Do list for today.’ Surprised that I’d managed sarcasm with death pretty much staring me in the face, I chuckled…or tried to. It came out as a ragged, wet cough and a spray of blood. Reaching up to touch the crimson stain on my lips, I drew a shaky breath and felt an odd rattle in my chest and heard a soft whisper of moving air. I remembered reading several biographies of soldiers in various wars and recognized the signs from their accounts. My lung was punctured and probably on its way to collapsing. ‘Huh. Might as well.’ Taking a page from those heros’ book, I grimaced and shoved my left thumb into the hole.‘ Aaahh! Oh, man, that hurts. It should help maintain the lung’s function for a little while at least, though.’ I wasn’t sure why exactly I did it. After all, I was already dead. My body just hadn’t realized it yet. What was the point of trying to prolong the inevitable?

My body, seeming to agree with that last thought, chose that moment to give out on me just a bit. Feeling weak, I fell back from my sitting position to a reclining one, propped up on one elbow. I blinked slowly, fighting the stabbing pain that pulsed with every heartbeat and the darkness in my vision that seemed to grow in time with the beat.

It was through that dim vision that I saw something that I blearily chocked up to my dying brain mixing signals. The smaller SUV skidded to a stop and two of its doors flew open. Two figures that appeared to be female came charging out. One, relatively dark of both hair and skin, came straight toward me and the dead thug. The other stopped after ten yards or so and, lifting her hands, seemed to shoot bolts of electricity at the goons, if the thunderclap she produced was anything to judge by.

I didn’t believe what my eyes and ears had reported, but even as I tried to rationalize it I couldn’t argue with the results. The goons’ SUV detonated in a roiling fireball and the chatter of their guns fell silent.

The pain and shock began to catch up with me as the first girl approached, and my mind refused to re-interpret what it had observed. Overwhelmed, I let my elbow slide over and, lying flat on the snow I could no longer feel, I let the darkness take me.

--==V==--

“Ho…o yo..eel?”

I groaned mentally, batting clumsily at the cobwebs that seemed to be swarming my brain. Distantly I realized that the odd sounds a moment ago were words- words directed at me. I must have made some sort of questioning grunt or sigh, because whoever it was repeated themselves. Fortunately, this time I was aware enough to understand.

“How do you feel?” A slight pause, then, “Don’t try and speak yet, just nod a little if you’re okay.”

Was I? Well…I wasn’t in any pain, so I suppose I was. It took almost all the strength I had- I nodded, a tiny jerk of my head.

“Good. Give it a couple of minutes and you’ll wake up a bit more. Emergence can be hard on you. Sleep if you need to.”

I relaxed as the voice suggested- well, I gave up on the idea of moving for a while. My body didn’t plan on doing so anyway, so that’s what passed as relaxing. I must have done a good job, though, because I drifted back off to sleep sometime later. It could have been seconds or it could have been minutes, I wasn’t really sure.

I came to when a cool hand touched my forehead for a brief moment, then disappeared again. I blinked slowly several times, willing my eyes to stay open and focus. First I saw a rather generic paneled ceiling, then a girl leaned over me from the side and looked back. I blinked in surprise, causing her to smile before she spoke, “Welcome back to the land of the living, Luke.” Vaguely I noticed a name placard attached to her pocket, my eyes were drawn to the words upon it.

She looked down toward my chest as I weakly tried to reach for the bandage I was sure must be wrapped around my wound, wondering how I was still alive. I didn’t get far, though, due to the soft material of a strap securing my wrist to the bed. I shrugged that off mentally, assuming its presence was so I wouldn’t worsen my injuries. I was glad enough to be awake- a strap or two was small price to pay for the miracle of not being dead. That itself was a surprise. Surely there wasn’t any medical facility close enough to save me out there- but obviously these people had, somehow. She spoke again, “Don’t move around just yet. You’re still pretty weak. But don’t worry- you’re fine now. Perfectly healthy, in fact.”

She stilled my protest with a finger, her face stern, and continued, “I have some things to tell you about. Best if you don’t speak until I’ve finished.

“First, Luke, I’m Kristyn Keys. You no doubt want to know why those men tried to abduct you and, failing that, tried to kill you. For that matter I imagine you might like to know why we’ve more or less abducted you ourselves. I’d like to explain why and be simple and straightforward, but there’s nothing simple or straightforward about it.

“Almost seventeen years ago there was a terrorist attack at a genetics lab. As a result of the attack, some of the genetic testing material was accidently released into the water source of a nearby bottled water company’s plant. Bottles containing the tainted water were shipped out all over the US- a hundred thousand or so total. Most people who drank it before it was recalled weren’t affected, but pregnant women and their children were.

“You and I and the others here are some of those children. We don’t yet know why, but one of the side effects is that our mothers died giving birth to us.” She looked sad for a moment, “But that’s not our fault. What it is, is one of several markers that identify us. Each of us has a gift, a mental ability beyond human norms. Liz, the girl who was with me on the mountain, is a reikikinetic- a healer. That’s why you’re still alive. I’m an electrokinetic- I control electricity.” At my skeptical expression, she lifted her hands above me and spread them apart. White arcs of electricity crackled and snapped between them suddenly, writhing and jumping from finger to finger but leaving her hands untouched.

“You are a telekinetic, and a pretty powerful one. The earlier you were exposed during gestation, the stronger your gift. You were exposed sometime in your first trimester, meaning you should be formidable once you figure your powers out.”

I was about to speak up, outraged that this crazy girl thought I’d swallow all of this crap, right until she did the lightning trick. I could see that she had no equipment on her hands to make that happen and the lightning had been real enough. So I shut up and continued to listen, trying to assimilate everything she was saying.

“There’s one other marker that ties all of us together. Do you know what intersexed means?” I shook my head slightly, still feeling pretty weak. “It means being born with the equipment of both sexes. In your case, that means you were born with ovaries, etc in addition to your male parts.

“This wouldn’t be a problem except that when we come into our powers, something about the process activates the latent genes. Guys become girls and girls become guys.” She looked a bit irritated, “Normally, we try to get to people a day early, so we can explain all this and get you prepared. But you just had to go running off into the mountains and get shot up.” She sighed. “Not like you had any idea, of course. But we can’t change what happened. To get back to my original point, those men tried to take you because there are plenty of people out there —those that know- who would dearly love to have a spy or assassin with our abilities at their beck and call.

She shrugged, a fatalistic expression crossing her face, “To be honest, we’re not a lot different here. We’re currently at The Center, a place where we’ve gathered all the kids we can find. It’s a place for us to be safe, to learn, and to prepare to someday probably be spies and assassins. The difference is that we’re going to be doing as part of the Department of Homeland Defense. That and the fact that here, at least, we’re not slaves.”

I thought about that, “But we can’t leave, can we?” My voice trailed off at the end as my eyes widened in shock. Sure, she’d told me in so many words that I was going to turn into a girl. I wasn’t sure if I accepted that, but immobile as I was I didn’t realize it had already happened until I spoke and heard a voice not my own. “I…I didn’t…realize…”

I had the strangest urge to burst into tears. It warred with feelings of betrayal and manipulation and the unpleasant sensation that comes of knowing your life is no longer under your own control. Fear reared its ugly head, too, and the shock of the last couple of days overwhelmed me once again. It all swirled together as tears slid down my cheeks and my body convulsed in a dry heave.

Kristyn, being the only visible and viable target of the first class breakdown I was building up, became the target of my wrath, “Why? Why did you do this to me? Bitch! Get away from me! Let me go!” My voice rose to a shriek as I struggled against the straps. Anything not bolted down in the room jumped up into the air and whirled into a maelstrom of tumbling projectiles mostly aimed at Kristyn. When I screamed at her to go away I felt a pulse go out from me and suddenly she flew back.

I saw Kristyn tumble into the wall, but she didn’t hit it very hard. In my current state of mind that was the least she deserved. I sat up, finding that I’d somehow ripped the straps to shreds, and tried to heave my legs off the bed, tears streaming down my face. I didn’t get any further than hanging my legs over the side of the bed before Kristyn looked at me and lifted a hand. I saw a flash and would have howled in pain, but my body was locked up and twitching in the grip of an electric shock. It snapped me out of it and my last thought before passing out was at least lucid, ‘Good job, idiot. Piss off a human taser, why don’t you?’ I remembered the SUV blowing up and would have shuddered if I could. ‘I hope she doesn’t just kill me too.’

--==V==--

Kristyn picked herself up, dusting her suit off in irritation. The door flew open as she came upright, admitting Mrs. Fine and several security types. All had pistols drawn and pointed at the unconscious girl on the bed.

Mrs. Fine looked over to her, “Are you okay, Miss Keys?”

Kris nodded, “Put the guns up, boys. She’s out cold.”

One of the Security types looked over, his expression dubious, “We’ve never seen someone go rogue this long after the transformation, Miss Keys. With all due respect, there’s no telling when she’ll wake up or what she’ll do when she does.”

Kris shook her head, “She’s not rogue- she’s scared. Right, Lili?” The other girl entered the room and nodded. “Almost everyone else, myself included, had some sort of pre-warning about this. She didn’t. As far as she’s concerned, she was chased, shot several times, killed a man, thought she’d died, and woke up as a girl. All without a single idea as to why.” She gave the man an irritated glare, “Tell me you’d handle that any better than she just did.”

Mrs. Fine nodded and the security types re-holstered their weapons. A moment later another head poked in the door, “Hey, you okay, Mom?”

“I’m fine, hon. Can you check on Luke there, for me? I had to put her out and that can’t have felt good.”

Liz approached the bed and put her hand on the new girl’s forehead. After a moment she removed it and looked up, “All better.”

“Good.” Kris nodded, then turned back to Mrs. Fine, “While she’s not rogue, she is an unknown variable. We don’t know how she’ll react when she’s awake and calmed down enough to think things through. Until we’re sure of that, let’s get her somewhere more secure.”

“Yes, Miss Keys.”

--==V==--

I woke up again, feeling surprisingly good all things considered. It took me only a moment to remember everything that’d happened. Then the panic came back. I fought it down, though, glad to be alive and determined not to jeopardize that again. I wasn’t sure yet what Kristyn’s game was, but I was sure that if I pushed things enough she would kill me.

Sitting up slowly, I slid myself backward so I could lean again the headboard of the bed. An unfamiliar shifting occurred across my chest, causing me to glance down. I was wearing a hospital gown that did little to hide the presence of breasts beneath it. Those I would deal with later. I had no desire to look, explore, or otherwise discover what had happened to me.

I looked up, brushing hair out of my face as I surveyed the room. My hand paused as it swept the errant strands behind my ear. Half of my surprise was at the feminine gesture. The other half stemmed from the color of the hair. Pulling the lock back around, I ogled the red strands. My hair had been dark brown before, but now it was a dark, rich red sprinkled with lighter red highlights. ’Oh, this is just freaking perfect. First I have a thing for redheads and now I am one? I’m so screwed…’ I realized the double meaning of my thoughts a moment later and forced the whole line of thought from my head before it could trigger another panic attack.

’Okay…so, the room.’ I was in a new room- a very spartan room at that. Peach colored steel walls, industrial lighting, and a mirror and clock built into the wall were the only features beyond the bed itself. Two doors were set into the walls, both heavily constructed. One, I assumed, must lead outside. The other must lead to a restroom. ’Hmm. Time for a test drive, then.’

I twisted so my feet hung off the bed, then paused to consider them. They were small, petite really, and hung not quite all the way to the floor. The bed did seem to be a bit higher than most, but the lack of contact with the floor told me I’d likely lost some height.

Scooting forward, I slid off the bed and stood. The…objects…on my chest swayed a bit, distractingly, and the sensations down below were off as well. Otherwise things seemed much the same as ever. So I took a step and staggered, almost falling down. ’What the heck? My hips don’t even work the same way now? Okay, it’s final. If I ever find out who those terrorists were, they will regret the day they were born.’

I managed to adjust after a couple of steps and paced back and forth between the wall and bed a couple of times. On a whim I examined the bed and noted the fact that its steel frame was bolted to the floor securely. Very securely. I nodded, suspicions confirmed, and spoke to myself, “Not a cell, per se. More of a secure, telekinet-proof room. Nothing in here I could cause damage with.” I frowned —I did not pout- and continued, “Crap. I wanted to try out the telekinesis. Or…I wonder…”

I thought about it a moment, ’Telekinesis is the ability to move objects with your mind, right? Or rather, matter instead of objects. Yeah. I’m matter. So it follows, logically, that I should be able to move myself.’

Shrugging, I decided there was nothing for it but to try it. So, standing straight, I took a breath and said, “Up.”

Nothing happened.

’Hmm…how’s it always go in the movies? You have to concentrate, I think, visualize what you plan to do and will it to be so…or something. How should I know? It’s not like there’s a manual on how to learn telekinesis in a jail cell…Okay, so there probably is. Not the point.’ I cut off my mental chatter.

This time I really concentrated. Closing my eyes, I visualized myself rising about six inches into the air and remaining there, balanced and steady. I designed what I wanted to happen carefully, trying to cover the details as best I could. Then I willed it to happen. Again, I felt nothing. No whisper of wind, no cessation of gravity. Nothing.

Opening my eyes I sighed, dissatisfied, and looked unhappily at the floor. Then I squeaked, high and cute just like all the girls I’d ever caught with a surprise tickle, and promptly crashed down on my butt. I rubbed the offended area of my anatomy, surprised at the much improved cushion it provided while studiously avoiding any thoughts of its shape or why it made a better cushion now. Instead I tried to figure out whether to be elated at my success —I had, indeed, been floating about six inches off the ground- or be distraught at the sound that had come out of my mouth.

Somehow I ended up doing both, slipping into a happy giggle that almost immediately turned into a sob as soon as I realized what I was doing. ’And here we go with the waterworks again. Jeeze. I’m not cut out for this. I’m a guy, for crying out loud. I didn’t, don’t, and won’t want to be a girl. There’s gotta be some way to fix this.’

I cried for a couple of minutes and actually felt a good bit better afterward. So that wasn’t so bad. I did wonder, though, why no one had come in. I was absolutely sure I was under surveillance and was surprised that none of my activities from trying out my powers to bawling my eyes out had drawn any reaction. Then I really thought about it. ’I suppose they’re giving me some time. After all, Kristyn sprung it all on me at once and I didn’t react too well. Letting me sort through some things on my own is probably the best gift they can give me right now.’

Focusing, I TKed myself into a standing position, then released it and settled to the floor with a smile. Then I began to take stock of my room. It was as spartan as it first appeared to be. Nevertheless, I examined the bed, clock, lights, and doors individually. The mirror I avoided.

As I’d expected, one of the doors was locked. That was the one with the peephole I couldn’t see through. Fair enough. The other opened readily enough, swinging easily on pinless hinges that put a new twist on heavy duty.

Inside I found, as expected, a simple bathroom. It contained a utilitarian toilet and sink, a light fixture, and a roll of toilet paper. I picked up the latter and examined it, “Whoopie. I’m so glad to see some good, cheap government-issue toilet paper.” I hoped Kristyn or whoever else was watching enjoyed the sarcasm.

I didn’t need the restroom at the moment and didn’t really want to consider it anyway, so I set down the toilet paper and shut the door on my way out. I’d of hit the light switch but there wasn’t one. Go figure.

The mirror couldn’t be avoided any longer. I’d already expended all the other activities this room offered in the last ten minutes of exploration alone- unless, of course, I wanted to count the ceiling tiles…no, not even I could stomach such an obvious stall. There was nothing for it.

I turned and walked along the wall until I stood before the mirror. Then I closed my eyes and turned toward it. I took a deep breath to settle myself. So far I’d avoided any thought or observation about my body since I saw my feet. Now I was going to face it head on and deal with what I found.

Opening my eyes, I looked at the girl in the mirror. ’Aw, crap. Crap. Crap. Crap.’ I tried to pass it off to myself as a carryover of my having a thing for redheads, but that excuse fell flat. The girl in the mirror was pretty. No, she was more than that in a girl-next-door kind of way. I really didn’t want to consider how she might look when made up and dressed in something more flattering than a hospital gown and a bed-head hairdo.

My hair, as I’d noted, was a lustrous red. It started in a widow’s peak at my forehead and fell to midway down my back in soft waves. Hesitantly, I reached up to stroke it and found it soft and silky. I snatched my hand back down.

Next I looked at my eyes. Green, as per the stereotype. Apparently I was now Irish. Just how the hell that happened I didn’t know, but it was what it was. They seemed to be bigger than before and their former gray-blue color had become a dark green that went well with my hair.

The rest of my face followed suit with those details. My creamy skin was free of freckles, though that would probably change after my first time back out in the sun. My nose could only be described as pert. High cheekbones, cute little ears, and an almost heart shaped face accented lips that you’d never find on a guy.

I tore my eyes from my reflected face, trying to ignore the scared, marveling expression it returned to me, and redirected them to this strange girl’s body. She was tall for a girl, probably about 5’9”, and slim. Svelte seemed to be a good descriptor. Reaching back I pulled the hospital gown tight behind me so my new body was profiled.

My breasts, which seemed huge when I looked down, looked to be about a B cup. That was good and bad, I thought. They actually fit my frame pretty decently, but considering my age they’d likely get a bit bigger before they finished growing. I was actually rather glad to not be over-endowed like the stereotypical superheroine. I’d never actually liked huge breasts as a guy, preferring a more average look, so I was as pleased as I could be considering the circumstances. That is, a little but not much.

Looking lower my eyes ran across a skinny belly and slim waist before measuring the swell of my new hips. They weren’t over large, but the butt they helped shape was probably cuter than I wanted to deal with. Those hips were set over legs that seemed pretty long, longer proportionally at least than they used to be. Said legs ended at the dainty feet I’d noticed before. My hands matched my feet, being slimmer than before and graced with proportionally longer fingers. They were attached to slim arms that, while seeming strong enough, had nowhere near the strength or definition I’d had before. I sighed. That was only to be expected.

Having inspected my new body piece by piece, I looked at the whole. A tall, attractive young woman looked back at me uncertainly. Was this an image I could live with? Could I be this girl? Maybe, but I didn’t really want to find out. I could deal with this for now, but I wanted my old body back in the worst way.

I decided to take things as they were for the moment and move on to other considerations. Still, I recognized the fact that it would be necessary for me to become comfortable with this body, at least in the short term. As a compromise, I sat against the wall directly across from the mirror with my legs crossed and looked myself in the face as I replayed the last few days’ events through in my mind and considered their ramifications.

--==V==--

I looked up an hour or two later when the door to the outside world clicked and then swung open, absently scratching at the back of my head as something, my new hair I assumed, tickled it. I heard muffled voices and then Kristyn slipped through the door and shut it behind herself. She was dressed in a different outfit, but still wore clothes you’d expect to see on a young businesswoman.

I nodded and stood when she looked over at me, her expression both measuring and wary, “Hey, boss. Umm…sorry about the temper tantrum?”

Kristyn’s eyebrows lifted and minor surprise showed on her face, “Boss?” She gestured for me to head over to the bed, “Where did that come from?”

Shrugging, I walked over to the bed and sat facing her, “You gave me time to think, to sort things out, and I used it. What you’ve told me about you and I and whoever else is here seems plausible enough from all I’ve seen and done, and my guess is it’s the truth. Also,” I nodded toward her, “I saw your name badge, Warrant Officer. Considering you’re my age that makes me think you’ve got some real clout around here. And, if nothing else, you only knocked me out when you could easily have killed me for attacking you like I did- in stark contrast to the men who tried to take me first. In summary: you’re being honest with me, you’ve got authority, and you care. I can respect all of those traits and the others validate the second one. So, you’re the boss, boss. Where do we go from here?”

Krystin smiled and offered a hand to shake, which I accepted, “Good analysis. Call me Kris, by the way.” She checked her watch, then looked up again, “It’s about 0500 right now…sorry, about five o’clock a.m.” She shrugged, “It’s a military run operation, more or less. You either get used to the lingo or you go nuts. Anyway, are you rested enough to do some running around?”

I thought for a moment and realized I was still surprisingly energetic, “Yeah, I’m good for a few hours.”

“Good,” she smiled, “I’ve got some things to take care of, but my daughter Liz will help you make the rounds. You’re not officially scheduled to start until Tuesday, which is tomorrow, but anything you can get done today will only help.’

“Your daughter?”

“Long story.” She opened the door, permitting an American Indian girl around our age to enter the room, “This is Liz. She can fill you in if you want. Liz, Luke. Can you show her the rounds for me, hon?”

“Sure thing, Mom.” She smiled happily.

I waved, “Later, Kris.”

“Later.”

Liz turned to me and leaned in to give me a quick hug, “Hi! I’m Elizabeth. Nice to meet you again.”

I was a bit stunned, off balance from her enthusiasm, “Uh, hi. Again? I don’t think we’ve met…”

“I was on the mountain with Mom last Friday. She took care of the bad guys and I took care of you.”

“Took care of me?”

She nodded, looking somber for a moment, “Yep. I’m a Reikikinetic, a healer. You would have died if we hadn’t gotten there in time. You still almost died anyway.”

I remembered now, from my earlier conversation with Kris, “Oh! Right. Kris mentioned you earlier.” My hand went to my chest where the bullet had entered, but found no bandage and no wound. Oddly, I hadn’t given it a thought at all since waking up that last time. Guess I had other stuff on my mind. Now, though, I was a bit awed. “You saved me? Thank you!” I didn’t know how to express my gratitude. Words wouldn’t do it and a handshake just didn’t feel right. So, I took a page from her book and gave my new friend a hug. It felt…nice.

Then my stomach grumbled.

Liz giggled at my red face, “Don’t worry! It happens to everyone after the transformation. You’ll eat a lot for a little while, especially after using your powers.”

“Oh…okay. Umm…I” I wasn’t sure what to say, being reminded of what I’d tried to do to Kris.

Liz smiled gently, “Don’t worry about earlier. You were scared. Mom understands that and so do I. If anyone gives you a hard time about it, let me know, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Now, before we get you to the cafeteria for breakfast we’ll need to stop by Wardrobe.”

“Why?”

“Girl, do you really want to go to the cafeteria with everyone else in nothing but a backless hospital gown?”

“Eep!” My face turned crimson and suddenly I wanted nothing more than to get to Wardrobe.

Liz picked up a bag she’d brought in with her, removing some sweats, panties, and a bra and handing them to me, “Here. These’ll get you through the halls.”

She turned around to let me get dressed in relative privacy- discounting the surveillance gear that was surely still running. Ah well, I’d given up on any idea of privacy well before this, though I appreciated her gesture.

The panties were simple enough, though they forced me to acknowledge the one physical change I’d so scrupulously avoided considering so far. That hurdle passed without another crying jag and I moved on to the bra.

Fortunately it was a sports bra, which made things a bit easier. I got it on easily enough, though the sensations coming from the anatomy that made it necessary were distractingly strange. Of course, it helped that I’d taken one or two off of others before. Hey, I’d not been hiding under a rock in High School, after all. I did have limits though and nothing had ever gone beyond heavy petting. ’A pity, that. Now I may never get the chance to know what that’s like as a guy…aaannndd I’m so not going there, even mentally, as a girl. Train of thought, I bid you goodbye. Darken not my doorstep again.’

The sweats were sweats and took all of twenty seconds to slip on, “Okay, you can turn around, Liz.”

She turned and looked me over, “Pretty good for your first time. Nothing pinching up top?”

“Ah, no.”

“Great!” She dropped a pair of flip flops on the floor, “Slip those on and we’re on our way. If we hurry and we’re lucky we may catch Mom at breakfast.”

I followed her out cautiously, my head swiveling to take in every detail of the rather nondescript hallway, “Alright, then. Let’s be off to the wondrous city of War Drobe in the far off land of Spare Oom.” Well, it went something like that, anyway.

Liz’s eyes widened and she giggled, “You only think you’re kidding, Luke. Wait till you see Wardrobe for real.”

“Great.” Pardon me for not sounding all that enthused. I knew I was en-route to more feminine clothes than I had any desire to acquire and wasn’t really all that happy about it. Hopefully they had something androgynous…

As we walked I asked the question that’d been foremost in my mind the past few minutes, “So, Liz. What’s up with you and Kris? You call each other mother and daughter, but I’m pretty sure she’s not really your mom…is she?”

Liz smiled, “Yes, she’s really my mom. No, she didn’t give birth to me. We’ve got a special bond, an emotional imprint. I know we’re really the same age, but to me she’s my mom.”

“I see. Odd, but rather mundane compared to a lot of the other things I’m seeing right about now.”

“For sure. Just wait, though. Once you get to know Mom better you’ll see that she really is a mom.”

“I look forward to it. Tell me…were you really both guys?”

She smiled hugely, “Yep. Mom got here before me, about five months ago. I don’t know what she was like before she came to The Center, but she adapted really fast once she got here. She’s even got a boyfriend, Ray. You’ll meet him soon. I was always a girl inside, so this was a dream come true for me.”

I nodded, smiling sadly, “I’m happy for you. I guess I’ve got my own dream to chase now, hmm?”

Liz favored me with a concerned smile, “You should give it a chance. Being a girl can be a whole lot of fun! Plus, here everyone lets you make your own choices about who you want to present yourself as and who you want to date. There’s no judgment…well, not any sanctioned judgment.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mom doesn’t let anyone hurt someone else because of who they are. That doesn’t stop some of them from doing what they can to harass those who like to date their new gender, though. Without proof there’s not much she can do.”

“They don’t sound like my kind of people. Who are they, so I can avoid them?”

“I’ll have to point them out in the cafeteria.” Suddenly she smiled brightly, changing the subject completely when she continued, “But what about you, Luke? What’s your name?”

“Huh? I’ve got a name. You just said it.”

“I’ve never met a girl named Luke,” she giggled, “You need a new name, missy. So what’s it going to be?”

’A new name…a new name. Crap. This is really real. Umm…’ I lapsed into silence, thinking as we turn left at an intersection and made our way toward a set of stairs. What would taking a new name do to me? In some ways, it felt like I’d be giving up, like I’d be admitting that I’ll never be male again. Something androgynous, then? I could always switch back to Luke, though, if I managed to turn back.

“Well?” Liz prompted.

“Still thinking.” I paused. “But I can tell you what it won’t be.”

“What’s that?”

“Leia.” Our laughter echoed down the hallway, but my mind still worried the problem like a dog with a bone.