Weave of Life

by

Rodford Edmiston

Part One

The heavily bandaged and obviously severely injured man was being given some water through a straw by a nurse when the tall, youthful man walked in, a decorative cane in his right hand tapping a syncopation to his steps.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Guild," the man said, in an upper-class English accent, taking a seat on the other side of the hospital bed as the nurse checked things. He folded both his long-fingered hands over the handle of his cane. "I am Sir Roger Landsworth. I wish to thank you for your help, and to sincerely apologize for your injuries."

"Not your fault," said Theo, his voice slurred by the painkillers, the damage to the right side of his face and the extensive bandages. "When I saw those guys after that woman I jumped in to help. I had no idea they had friends. Who had guns and grenades."

"Nevertheless, thanks to your help she was able to escape the first pair and call for help. By the time their backup found you two our backup were almost there. I just wish they had been a half minute sooner."

"No way to change that," said Theo, though there was grief and bitterness in his voice.

"We have here some of the finest reconstructive surgeons and physical therapists in the world, and they are at your disposal," said Sir Roger, seriously. "You most likely saved the life of one of our best operatives, and were severely injured in the process. We owe you the best that medicine can do, and more. Surgery and physical therapy won't give your a new eye, or a new arm. You should be able to walk normally, though."

"That's... pretty much what I thought," said Theo, sagging into the bed with an extended sigh.

"Do you know what we do here?" said Sir Roger, after a moment.

"There are... well, urban legends."

"Some of them are true. As I just said, we owe you more than what conventional medicine can provide, and I meant that. There are risks, but if the treatment works you could make a complete recovery."

"Treatment?" said Theo, perking up a bit.

"It started in England in 1944," said Sir Roger, leaning back a bit, his gaze going distant. "A medical researcher who heard about then-recent experiments in Switzerland with LSD decided to create a similar hallucinogenic to be used as a treatment for mental illness. It wasn't very successful for that, but it did give a few of those who took it more than human abilities."

"You're kidding me," said Theo, looking skeptical.

"Nurse, would you call Sandra in, please?" said Roger.

She nodded, turned and left. A moment later a mildly attractive young woman walked in, the nurse unobtrusively following and resuming her tending of Theo's IV array. The new woman smiled tentatively at the injured man.

"Hi," she said.

"Hello," said Theo, wincing as he tried to return the smile.

"Sandra Rasimus is one of our most able operatives," said Sir Roger. "However, this isn't how you know her. Show him, Sandra."

She nodded... and began to change. Short blond hair grew darker and longer, and her skin color and features shifted from vaguely Scandinavian to vaguely Mediterranean. She was now the woman Theo had saved a few days before. Theo gaped, then winced, then coughed. The nurse moved to help him, but he waved her away. Then looked at Sir Roger.

"It's real, then. There is a drug which can give people superhuman abilities."

"Yes. One of the more common ones is rapid and thorough healing. Even full regeneration in some cases. However, there's no guarantee you would even survive taking it. Under the best of circumstances, there is an eight percent fatality rate. Moreover, that rate is for a healthy person. With your injuries the odds would be worse, and that's no matter how much you heal normally before taking it. The best guess of our medical experts - and I mark myself chief among them - is that there is roughly a twelve percent chance you would die."

While he contemplated that, Sandra resumed the form she had first worn upon entering.

"Twelve percent, versus living like this," said Theo, considering.

"It's worse than that," said Sir Roger, frankly. "There's also an eight percent chance that it won't do anything more than get you high."

"If I survive, but nothing happens, can I take it again?" said Theo.

"Yes. However, then the chance of powers is zero. Every time. Trust me. We've been testing the various forms of this drug since the Forties and while there's a great deal we still don't know about it we do know that."

"Though if you survive the first dose, a second or subsequent one won't kill you," said Sandra, her voice now as different as her form. Even her accent had changed. "Some people even keep taking it to get high."

"Yes, yes, but that's irrelevant," said Roger, with a vague waving motion. "If you are interested, and agree to keep the information confidential, I'll give you the full briefing."

He looked at Theo expectantly.

"I think... No, I know that I want to take it," said Theo, sounding determined. "I wasn't an athlete, but I liked being active. It's worth the risk to me."

"Very well," said Sir Roger, nodding. He turned to Sandra and smiled a bit, before turning back to the patient. "It will take some time to inform you of the options available. If you begin feeling fatigued, let me know."

"I remember when you gave me this briefing," the woman said, wryly, pulling a chair beside Sir Roger's.

"It began when an English chemist heard about LSD shortly after its discovery, along with the speculations that it could treat mental illness, and decided he could do better..."

* * *

See notes at the end of this segment.

* * *

"It's hard to believe you're that old," said Theo, some time later, to Sir Roger. He then looked suspiciously at Sandra.

"I'm thirty-one," she said, smiling. "Just a bit older than I usually look."

"That's so amazing," said Theo. "You can change your appearance, and what else?"

"That's about it. A little faster and tougher and quicker to heal than I would be otherwise."

"If you do get useful powers we would be interested in adding you to the payroll," said Sir Roger. He spread his hands, cane dangling from one set of long fingers. "However, that would be your choice. The treatment is without strings."

"Payroll?"

"All this..." he made a sweeping gesture with that cane, which took in far more than the hospital room, or even the entire building, "...is expensive to run. To pay for it we provide everything from technical consulting to personal security services. We also do favors for various interests, in return for favors from them. Sandra was acting as a courier when you met her, something I'm not at liberty to discuss further. We still aren't sure what went awry."

"I want Crescendin C," said Theo.

"Are you sure?" said Sir Roger, a bit surprised. "There's roughly a twenty percent chance it will kill you."

"Yeah, but if I understand it correctly, there's also a better chance I'll get powers than with Thirteen." He sighed, looking grim. "I'll need powers to recover from or compensate for... this."

"There's also a larger chance you'll experience physical alteration."

"I want physical alteration!" said Theo, loudly. "Look at me! Almost any change which doesn't kill me will be an improvement."

"All right," said Sir Roger, nodding slowly. "It's your choice."

End Part One

In late 1944 Dr. Simon Naggy - a British medical researcher - received approval to try his new therapeutic drug, Para-Ergot 56, on several criminally insane men. The psychedelic properties of LSD-25 had been discovered by Swiss experimenters just a year earlier, but already people were speculating that it might be useful in treating mental illness. Dr. Naggy - who followed the Edisonian philosophy of trial and error in his work - decided to make his own drug, based on chemically altered natural alkaloids produced by ergot fungus. After several months of work he had a variant which produced symptoms in laboratory animals matching those of LSD-25. However, it also killed nearly a third of them. Interestingly, some of the animals displayed odd physical changes (1). That, however, was not what Dr. Naggy was looking for; he noted the alterations but gave them little thought.

With a war on, and with criminals of all types seen as a burden on the war effort, he received approval to try the drug on a group of condemned men. They were volunteers, who were told that if they survived their sentences would be reduced. As expected, nearly a third died. Over a third survived with no lasting physiological changes and with nearly half of them were deemed "improved" mentally.

Just under a third demonstrated the development of fantastic, in some cases superhuman, abilities. One of them walked out of the prison, leaving a large hole in the wall.

The prison authorities - after losing several guards, having to call five manhunts, and with dozens of innocent civilians killed and injured - threatened criminal proceedings against Dr. Naggy. However, the War Department heard of these events and commandeered the Doctor and his laboratory and personnel. Dr. Naggy was greatly upset by both these turns of events, and at first refused to have anything to do with the government. After being informed that he could either cooperate fully or face charges of aiding and abetting several murders and assaults, he decided to cooperate fully. Para-Ergot 56 was renamed Crescendin One, and the search for a drug to create superhuman soldiers began. (The codename came from the fact that many of those who took the drug later described experiencing a climactic moment. One of them used the word "crescendo" to describe this, and the term stuck.)

Dr. Naggy had been operating under a very small budget, and only had one full-time assistant. Roger Landsworth - later Dr. and eventually Sir - was a brilliant young biochemistry student whose approach was far more analytical than that of Dr. Naggy. Now the project had a larger budget and a larger staff. However, except for Roger, all the new personnel were acquired by the Department of Miscellaneous Weapons Development, with the former part-time staff being summarily dismissed. While the new staff were talented chemists none were medical specialists. This led to some embarrassing gaffs the first few weeks, but with a bit of cramming the lab was soon synthesizing and evaluating dozens of variants per month. All were first tested on laboratory animals.

For the first year and a half the laboratory continued to follow Dr. Naggy's preferred method of operation. This despite Roger's suggestions for a more optimized approach. During the first test on humans under the new organization - the second human test overall - Dr. Naggy spoke of those who gained powers as having been "Triggered." This became the standard term for a successful Crescendo. A drug which could cause Crescendo subsequently became known as a Trigger.

While some success was obtained - at first using non-violent prisoners serving long sentences, and later with regular military volunteers - during this time the high death rate, high failure rate and general low level of powers - as well as the sheer unpredictability of what powers would be developed and the odd side effects - made the drug undesirable for military application.

The formulas for various Crescendin versions were given to the United States as part of a technical exchange package, but by this time success with conventional forces (along with the development of the Atomic Bomb) was seen by the Americans as the key to winning the war in Europe and no actual trials were performed there.

As the War wound down and Crescendin remained too raw for actual field use, the lab's budget was cut in half. With rumors in the air that it would soon be removed completely, and frustrated by his inability to get his own ideas tested, Roger synthesized a variety to his formulation, tested it on rabbits and rats, found it to be - as he predicted - much safer than any of the other variations previously tested or under development, and used it on himself. He later described the result as "An interesting experience." As did all human test subjects - and presumably all animal subjects - he experienced a powerful psychedelic effect. He also developed low-level superhuman abilities. In his case, this was a boost to his immune system and ability to heal - the latter now so complete as to replace a pulled tooth and remove all his scars, with the healing proceeding roughly eight times faster than normal - and a significant boost to his intelligence.

Dr. Naggy's reaction to this was to fire Roger.

Several of the other workers protested, but the lab was, indeed, being shut down. All work involving Crescendin and Para-Ergot - including those names and the fact of the drugs' existence - was declared Most Secret and all surviving participants ordered never to reveal anything about the drug or the project. Interestingly, this meant that those who had gained superhuman abilities were prohibited by law from using them. Which may explain why many of those who didn't go into secret government work turned to crime.

As the Korean War began the project was reformed. Dr. Naggy was hired as a special consultant and allowed to pursue his own vision of the work. However, the main branch of the project was now under the direction of a retired British Army Colonel who had been involved in supervising some of the trials. Possessing a strong technical background and an open mind, Theodore Carstairs was very close to the ideal man for the job.

The first inkling that the secret of Crescendin had escaped came late in the Korean War when the Chinese complained to the international community that the Allies were using "Nazi supermen" in the War. (No Triggered actually saw action in that - or any previous - conflict.) An irate high ranking member of the British government held a press conference in which he violated the Secrets Act by indignantly revealing the existence of the project.

A mostly successful attempt to cover for this was made, with a spokesman explaining that the tattler was being sent off for "a long rest." However, others - in Britain and outside - soon began talking about Crescendin, and what it could do. Most responsible members of the press took little or no notice. Among other reasons, the whole thing seemed so much a childish wish fulfillment they couldn't take it seriously, many believing it a bit of leftover propaganda. However, the topic remains popular in the more colorful magazines and papers to this day.

In 1951 the Soviet Union announced the creation of their own super soldiers. The release was supported by numerous photos, many of them obviously faked. In reality, Stalin forbade the creation of superhumans.

For the next decade and a half development continued at a slow pace. The purpose was more to have information on the phenomenon in case it was used against Britain and its allies than with the intent to create supersoldiers. The main team created a model which did a fair job of predicting what a particular version of Crescendin would do to humans, though this worked well only for the "main line" of formulas. In large part, the development of this model was the work of Roger Landsworth. There was still much trial and error involved in the creation of new variants, but more and more the team was able to design a molecule with the properties desired. Meanwhile, Dr. Naggy ran tests on over a hundred variants, killing thousands of lab animals in the process. None of his potions from this period were approved for human testing.

With the death of Dr. Naggy in 1959 in a car crash, work slowed even more. The lab was on the verge of shutting down. One reason was that there was still no understanding of how the Crescendo process worked, or even of what made one person Trigger and another just get high. Still, the potential for the successes - especially considering the very few who had gained great power - was undeniable. Which actually worried those paying the bills. The operation was spared - or, more appropriately, given a stay of execution - when the Vietnam War began growing more active.

In 1965 the last product of the lab - Crescendin Eight - was tried on twenty volunteers. This formulation tied for the lowest death rate to that point, while producing the second highest number of subjects who developed superhuman abilities. Even better, the number with medium- or high-level powers was by far the highest yet.

All twenty of the subjects survived. Eleven of them Triggered. Five of the twenty subjects were actually used in Southeast Asia. However, their application was limited by the fear of failure on the part of their managers. The propaganda windfall if the Vietcong manage to kill or - worse - capture one of them and figure out what they were would have been devastating. All five survived the war, though three with injuries. One was never able to walk unassisted again. Also, there appeared to be a high level of mental instability among all the test subjects. (Later evaluations found the rate to be in line with non-augmented veterans who had similar wartime experiences.)

The lab was shut down in 1968, and all materials ordered destroyed except for a single copy of every record, which was placed in secure storage. However, the lab crew still knew their work. Roger Landsworth had quietly amassed a sizable fortune over the previous two decades. He hired most of his coworkers and some of the test subjects and formed Special Resources, Inc.

Forced by the British government in 1970 to leave the country or be arrested for violating the Official Secrets Act, SRI moved to a privately-owned island in the Caribbean. Sir Roger and his people continue work on Crescendin to this day, further improving safety and performance.

Weave of Life

by

Rodford Edmiston

Part Two

The intensive care room lighting was dim, and the only sounds were from the sigh of air through overhead vents and normal operations of the various pieces of medical equipment. The patient lay in the bed motionless, except for the slow rhythm of subdued breathing. The adjacent observation room was completely unlit, but in a way far more active.

Sir Roger sat there, in the dark, looking on unseen through the glass, his cane hooked over the left chair arm. The night shift knew he was there, but not why. Though they might speculate among themselves, they would not ask. He was the boss, and they were only half joking when they said he moved in mysterious ways.

He heard the door open behind him, saw the brief reflection in the glass in front of him from the light coming through the opening, silhouetting a familiar figure. Then it closed. In the glass now the only thing he could see behind him was a faint nimbus around the newcomer's head. Like a multi-colored corona.

"'Ello, love," said the researcher, in a deliberate variation from his usual accent.

"What are you up to, Roger?" said the figure in the shadows. The voice was feminine, but unusually deep for a woman; her accent was southern West Coast US. Perhaps the Florence area of California, though she had obviously been away for a long time.

"Why do I have to be up to anything?" Sir Roger asked, tiredly, resuming his native accent.

"Because that's the way that augmented brain of yours works. You just can't stop thinking."

"True," he admitted, smiling a bit.

The woman moved beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. This made obvious the fact that she was nearly as tall as he.

"Even you need sleep."

"I'm about ready to leave," he said, putting a reassuring hand over hers. "You know how much I hate hospitals."

"I know you hate the smells," said the woman, with amusement in her voice, as they both retracted their hands. She gave a playful grimace. "I'm not fond of them either. Even with all the measures those of us with heightened senses have insisted on, this place is very unpleasant."

He stood, still looking into the room at Theosophilus Guild.

"So still, yet so full of potential."

"What is it about him?" said the woman, as Sir Roger retrieved his cane. "You have your whole psych staff and half the medical doctors furious at you for doing this. He's had no evaluation, no training. This goes beyond simple gratitude."

"He showed courage and determination," said Sir Roger. "Oh, and don't underestimate my gratitude. This was an important mission, and he salvaged it. On top of all that, he saved Sandra's life. You know how I feel about protecting my people."

"Even all that doesn't merit this level of attention from you."

"I noticed something. Some of the doctors did, too. Something... interesting."

"That's all you're going to tell me."

"For now," said Sir Roger, with an impish smile.

"Come to bed," said the woman, firmly.

"Is that an invitation?" said Sir Roger.

"You wish. Come on, now, or I'll carry you."

"Better and better," he joked, as he and the woman left the observation room.

* * *

Theo awoke slowly, reluctantly. He could hear people talking nearby, though, and wanted to see who they were. He wasn't used to sleeping among company. After several attempts he opened his eyes and looked around. He saw the doctors who had been working him, and Sir Roger. That's when it hit him.

His eyes. He had opened and was seeing with two eyes, again!

He began to laugh, though weakly.

"How are you feeling?" said one of the doctors - Singh, that was it - leaning in, looking both curious and eager.

"Like I have a new lease on life," said Theo, in a quiet, hoarse voice. He looked at Sir Roger. "It worked."

"That it did," the man said, smiling. "Congratulations."

Theo started to say something, but Dr. Singh moved a straw extending from a plastic cup to his mouth. Theo took a few sips, and when he next spoke his voice was stronger and clearer.

"Thank you. What else did I get?"

"We probably won't know that until we get you back on your feet and run some tests."

"After you came down from the C and we saw you were regenerating we put you in an artificial coma," said Dr. Singh.

"I remember... you folks talking about that," said Theo, trying to nod but not having much success yet.

"Yes. This is standard procedure for such cases. Not only because we had to deal with new tissues threatening to grow over your sutures and staples. Regrowing major amounts of tissue is both painful and excruciatingly itchy."

"You had to mention itching," said Theo, stirring uncomfortably in the bed.

Dr. Singh laughed politely and a few of the others smiled.

"The actual regeneration is not quite complete. However, we need to begin the physical therapy soon, otherwise the healing will actually take longer. So we woke you."

"How long was I out?"

"Six days," said Sir Roger, smiling with satisfaction. "Six days to grow a new eye and hand, and repair some other damage. Not bad. Rather biblical, in fact."

"So when do I get out of this bed?"

"Before that there will be a few days of in-bed therapeutic exercises," said Dr. Singh. "First performed laying, then sitting up. If those go well, you will be walking in perhaps a week."

"Another week?!" said Theo, looking rebellious.

"I'll see what I can do to speed things," said Sir Roger, smiling. His expression grew more sombre, and he tapped the handle of his cane against his thigh while he decided how to break something to Theo. "Meanwhile, I'm afraid I have some bad news. Your car was broken into at the scene, then burned, the same day of the encounter which brought you here. Three days later your apartment building was burned very completely. We believe this was to cover your domicile also being searched. Fortunately, in both cases no-one was killed and there were only a few minor injuries."

"Damn," said Theo, stunned. "That's... like half my life, gone."

"We've asked the police to report you as missing," said Sir Roger. "The problem is that you're the only lead for those who are after what Sandra was carrying. She was operating under a very thoroughly constructed false identity, so they don't know who she really is - presumably don't even know that she is augmented - but you they could trace."

He shrugged, looking apologetic.

"That's something else we owe you for."

"So, how do we handle this?" said Theo. "I have family and friends who will be worried about me. Hell, my boss will be, too."

"Contacting any of them would not only endanger you but us, here, as well as those contacted," said Sir Roger, firmly. "I'm afraid they'll have to remain worried until we can see those responsible for your injuries in prison."

"Any idea how long that will take?"

"I hope not long," said Sir Roger. He suddenly looked very determined. His voice took on an ominous tone. "We have resources no-one else has. As well as good reason to apply them to this matter."

Theo noted that expression and shivered a bit. There was something hardcore just barely showing through the usual mask of equanimity. He was starting to understand some of the things he had heard - and overheard - during his time here.

"If you are through delivering bad news," said Dr. Singh, "we have work to do. Including tests which we could not run while he was unconscious."

"All right, all right," said Sir Roger, laughing, the mask again intact. He put a friendly hand on Theo's shoulder. "I'll talk to you some more when they are satisfied you won't grow gills or turn to liquid."

The next hour and a half were... interesting. In the sense of the Chinese curse. Dr. Singh and the others kept apologizing for various things, but Theo was still repeatedly put in severe discomfort, and a few times in real pain. Theo managed to take advantage of pauses by the doctors as they discussed their findings to examine his new hand. While his right eye was working fine, his hand felt like it was asleep. So far, making the hand do anything, even twitch, was difficult.

His right leg wasn't quite that bad, but still obviously not working properly. Part of the physical therapy would be to train the new nerves and muscles. Finally, the doctors were satisfied, for the moment. Sir Roger moved in as they left, discussing mysterious things among themselves with cryptic remarks and opaque jargon.

"Okay," said Theo, a bit tiredly. "What's next?"

"To begin with, we still don't know exactly what the Crescendin did to you." Sir Roger sighed and shook his head, then gave Theo a wry grin. "It has been said, with much justification, that third-class Triggered are just barely explainable via existing animal biology, that second-class Triggered require radical changes to the subject's biochemistry but can be explained by conventional science, and that first-class Triggered casually violate the laws of physics. All first- and second-class and many third-class Triggered display alterations to their DNA. Many are no longer genetically compatible with normal humans."

"So how is my DNA?" said Theo, a bit concerned.

"Still completely human. We're currently running a before and after comparison, but the preliminary results show no major changes."

"That's a relief," said Theo. "Though if this managed to get rid of my family's tendency towards early baldness I wouldn't mind."

They chatted for a while, mostly about what Theo could expect. Soon, though, Sir Roger's watch beeped and he excused himself.

"Could you hand me the remote?" said Theo, reaching with his working hand.

"Certainly," said Sir Roger, complying. "Just be aware that they'll be back in here soon, to start your physical therapy."

"So soon? Well, I'm the one who was worried about being bored."

End Part Two

Weave of Life

by

Rodford Edmiston

Part Three

Theo was lying flat on his bed, alternately doing sets of reps with his right hand and his right leg. The physical therapist had deliberately put the remote for the TV out of reach during the times he was supposed to practice, to encourage Theo to follow the regimen. So far the tactic was working, due to sheer boredom. He was out of intensive care, now, and in a private room. No more observation window, no more wiring or plumbing, though he still had to buzz for a nurse to help him to the bathroom. They'd promised to bring a walker by that afternoon. All told, the only person not happy - even enchanted - with his progress was Theo.

He did the last few leg exercises - lift straight up as high as he comfortably could, hold for a bit, slowly bend the knee as far as he could, slowly extend back out, then slowly down - then switched to the hand exerciser.

Theo looked over as the door opened. He kept working, squeezing the gadget slowly and deliberately, when he saw one of the nurses. He looked back, curious, when the nurse sagged against the door with a tired laugh.

"They've got you buttoned up tighter than the US President!" she said, startling Theo by shifting into Sandra. That is, the darker, Mediterranean version which was apparently her default form. She smirked at his startled expression. "Good morning. Had to borrow this outfit and sneak in just to see how you were doing."

"Uh... Good morning," said Theo, who kept doing his reps, not sure whether he should stop. "It's good to see you."

She straightened, smile fading.

"Oh, don't say that just to be polite. I got you hurt bad, and I'm still sorry about that."

She started to say something else, but then stopped and stared at Theo.

Theo was doing some staring of his own, the grip device forgotten. He'd felt an odd tingle, and a sensation of weakness. Now, he felt something which he would later only be able to describe as "change." He stared down as a pair of bulges pushed up beneath his hospital gown, his whole body shifting over several seconds into a duplicate of Sandra's.

"What the fuck?!" said Theo, in Sandra's voice, which rose to end as a shriek. She yanked down the collar of her hospital gown to reveal a pair of healthy breasts.

Sandra was almost knocked over as the door to the room suddenly opened. In rushed Dr. Wessner, the physical therapist, followed by the nurse Sandra had been disguised as.

The newcomers took a moment to parse the situation. Then
Dr. Wessner turned on Sandra.

"You! Out!"

"Just a moment, Doctor," said Sir Roger, also entering the room, and blocking Sandra with his cane. "If I might conduct a brief experiment... Oh, and Theo, you might want to put those away."

"Very well," said Wessner, as Theo flushed and yanked her top back up. The doctor was obviously not happy, but obeying his boss.

"Sandra, my dear, would you change forms, please?

Still puzzled but willing to go along, she shrugged and changed into the form she wore when Theo first encountered her. Theo yelped as she also changed.

"Yes, I thought as much."

"Sir Roger, what's going on?" said Sandra.

"That's my line!" said Theo, in Sandra's current voice.

Sir Roger turned to Sandra, looking both disappointed and irritated.

"Sandra Nellis, you were given very explicit instructions not to visit him until you were cleared to do so!"

"I... I'm sorry," she said, contritely. She gave a weak smile. "But... I mean, he's just changed form. I do it all the time. No harm, no foul, right?"

"One of the most stupid, specious sayings from a culture notorious for them!" said Sir Roger, actually causing her to cringe a bit. "I appreciate your talent for circumventing the security measures of others, but I would be even more appreciative if you would respect those in place here! If you trust my judgement you should follow the rules I make!"

"I'm sorry," she said, more sincerely. "I did something stupid and I'm just glad it didn't cause any serious harm."

Sir Roger took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. He glanced over at Theo.

"All right. Indeed, no serious harm done. Now, let's get back to Theo."

"It's about time! Look at me! I'm a girl!"

"Yes, but we know what is happening. Sandra, if you will wait down the hall, please. At least fifteen meters away. This should fade in a few minutes."

He also ushered Dr. Wessner and the nurse out, despite their protests. Then Sir Roger pulled a chair over to Theo's bed, hanging his cane on the table beside it. Theo waited in impatient silence for him to settle himself.

"You do not have regeneration, any more than you have shapeshifting. You have, at the very least, an ability to mimic the powers of others. That is why I have been restricting who can see you. Not to keep you from learning this, but to ensure your healing was completed before we did any experimenting which might have interfered with that. Once we realized you were only demonstrating rapid healing when someone with regeneration was present, we made certain at least one person was within range who has regeneration almost constantly during your recuperation. This was not easy, since regeneration is rare and few have that alone. We also minimized the other powers you were exposed to, since we believe that the more focused your own power was on mimicking regeneration the more quickly you would heal."

"Oh..." said Theo, digesting this. "You didn't tell me because...?"

"You would have been tempted to test whether you had any other powers besides mimicry, and doing so could have slowed your recovery."

"Well, I don't like being kept in the dark," said Theo, defiantly folding her arms across her chest. She winced, and settled for folding her hands across her upper belly. "Now, when do I turn back to normal?"

"A few minutes," said Sir Roger. "We weren't able to do any actual tests, but from observation it appears that the time the mimicry lasts depends on both the length of exposure and the proximity. Since Sandra wasn't in here for long and never came very close to you, you should be feeling convex again very shortly."

"Y'ask me, I'm much too convex already in some places," said Theo, glancing sourly down at her chest.

Sir Roger was silent for a moment, contemplating then rejecting a joke. Instead he leaned back in his chair, and waited.

"Okay, what other powers was I exposed to?" said Theo, when it became obvious Sir Roger had nothing to say for the moment. "Why didn't I mimic any of them? I mean, you're right there, and you have super intelligence. Why don't I have that?"

"My intelligence increased by roughly a third, and I was already a genius," said Sir Roger, with a modest smile. "You were barely above normal. Also, you're still on analgesics."

"Oh..." Theo frowned, chewing her lower lip. She appeared to be thinking about whether to say something.

"While we are waiting, is there anything else you'd like to ask me about, since it's just us?" said Sir Roger, encouragingly. "I know you are curious about many of the events which have happened in the past several days."

"Just what was Sandra carrying which was so important? What could justify men shooting and throwing grenades at her and me?"

Sir Roger's whole manner grew serious. He leaned in and spoke in a low voice.

"What I'm about to tell you, you never heard. Even I'm not supposed to know this. Understand?"

"Yes," said Theo, actually a bit frightened.

"The package Sandra carried contained the plans for what is known as The Basement Nuke," said Sir Roger.

"What?!" said Theo, suddenly alarmed. "You mean a nuclear weapon?!"

"Back in the early Eighties a US Department of Defense group was tasked with evaluating the feasibility of terrorists - given enough plutonium or uranium - building a bomb in a city they wanted to destroy. They discovered two things. Even with skilled people working from detailed plans, the best they could do even with a very sophisticated - though mundane - machine shop was a weapon with a yield of roughly eight kilotonnes. More likely the yield would be under five. However, with plans tailored to a very good machine shop - instead of a weapons lab - they could top twenty. Creating such plans required sophisticated computer modeling and detailed data - something which only major nuclear powers would have - but once the plans were made they could be followed by any competent mechanic."

"So they went ahead and drew up the plans," said Theo, feeling sick.

"They had to confirm their findings. That also meant testing the two classes of devices. They had two teams, with identical starting resources and skills, do the work. One had the custom plans and the other used standard deployable weapon plans. Their devices were tested - underground, of course, concealed as part of a standard weapon development series - and they functioned as expected. Then they exchanged which group had which plans and had them start over. This time the group which didn't have the custom basement plans actually did worse than the other team previously had, because they were trying to rebuild the device they had the first time without the details; the result was a squib. The group with the basement plans this time built a device with the expected yield. As a safeguard, after the test was completed the working copies of the the basement nuke plans were destroyed. Microfiche copies of the originals were made, then the originals were destroyed and the microfiche cards carefully filed away in a secure archive. They needed them as reference, you see, in case someone else had the same idea."

"Somehow, someone got these plans."

"Someone - for a great deal of money - pulled the microfiche cards and simply mailed them to a confederate. It was only by a stroke of luck that a random inventory check discovered the gap this left before the inside man could go on a planned vacation, during which his death would have been faked. Or perhaps he would have actually been killed; the people hiring him are both ruthless and thorough. Fortunately, he was caught. Through him the outside man was caught. Unfortunately, he had already passed the cards along. We were called in and immediately put our best covert people on the case. Skipping many details, Sandra substituted plans for something innocuous on the same type of card and left. Unfortunately, someone twigged, and they chased after her. She was almost to her pickup point when she was ambushed. Which is where you entered the story."

Theo was silent for a long while, contemplating all this. Then she looked startled.

"It just hit me. I can copy other people's powers!"

"Yes, but it bothers me that you haven't reverted, yet," said Sir Roger. "Hang on..."

Not bothering with his cane - it was an affectation, after all, not actually needed for walking - he stepped to the door, opened it, and called Sandra back in. She had resumed her Mediterranean form. Oddly, Theo didn't change into that as she approached, but remained blond.

"I want you to stand by the bed and turn your power off," said Sir Roger. "Don't shapeshift. Turn it off."

She looked reluctant, but nodded. Her form changed only a bit, becoming bit shorter, a bit dumpier, a bit less buxom. In his hospital bed Theo actually cheered as he was also back to normal.

"Interesting..." said Sir Roger, rubbing his chin. "Yes. We'll have to do further testing, of course, but... interesting."

He smiled at Theo.

"Now, remembering that form you just left, I want you to change back into it."

"Do I have to?" said Theo.

"Would you like a job?"

"I'm effectively 'missing, presumed dead' at this point," he said, his recent joyous mood fading. "So, yes. Oooh, I can't wait to copy someone with super strength!"

"I have ten brutes for every person whose powers make them superhumanly capable at infiltration," said Sir Roger, sternly. He glanced at Sandra, who was waiting impatiently to be told she could resume looking the way she preferred. "Which is one reason I put up with her."

"Oh, come on," she muttered, her voice also a bit different; flatter and less alluring.

"So, yes, Theo. Please, just try it."

"It's not that hard," said Sandra, encouragingly. "It helps if you close your eyes. Just think about what it felt like, then imagine feeling it again."

Theo obediently closed his eyes, and frowned in concentration. Several seconds went by. Then, abruptly, the form in the bed flowed and shifted, into the blond Sandra form.

"I did it!" said Theo, astounded.

"Kind of a rush, isn't it?" said the actual Sandra, a huge grin on her face.

"All right, Sandra, you may resume your preferred appearance."

She did so with a happy sigh.

"I felt that! Like I was trying to change again!"

"Now, turn the power off," said Sir Roger, looking at Theo.

"It's actually pretty much like he says," said Sandra, shrugging. "Just... turn it off."

Again, several seconds - and presumably several tries - were required. Eventually, Theo succeeded, returning to normal.

"Excellent. I believe, once you practice some, that you'll be able to easily resist changing when she does. Yes, this is most promising. There are many tasks where two shapeshifters would be very useful, and for a few even essential."

"Welcome to the club," said Sandra, smirking. "I can't wait to introduce you to all the joys of womanhood. Including multiple orgasms."

"Wait, what?!" said Theo.

"Sandra, I'm afraid, is noted for her libido," said Sir Roger, dryly. "Try not to copy that aspect of her, please. We are a proper institution."

End Part Three

Weave of Life

by

Rodford Edmiston

Part Four

After the excitement of that morning the rest of the day was a letdown: more lying in bed, with intermittent exercise. That evening, however, Theo received his promised walker. After some instruction with that he was allowed to go to the bathroom on his own. The next day, after he demonstrated his capability with the walker, Dr. Wessner let Theo try moving outside the room; he made several very slow trips up and down the short hall beyond his door. Several days of augmented healing and therapy had left Theo able to stand on and even shuffle around with his previously damaged leg. His new right hand was also becoming useful. Both still needed much more work.

"Healing is more than just regrowing damaged tissue," said Dr. Wessner, actually wagging a finger at his patient as Theo sat on the edge of his bed while recovering from his exertions. "Right now you're past the stage where regeneration will help significantly. You now have to exercise in order to build both muscle tone and nerve pathways. However, starting from this sound foundation, you will make much more rapid progress than someone with only normal healing."

"That's nice," said Theo. "I'm bored. In fact, I'm more than just bored. There's only so much entertainment in exercising. The TV is all news and weather and reruns. Oh, and fitness programs. I've read everything available which isn't a medical text, and even some of those."

"I'll see what I can do," said Dr. Wessner, with a laugh.

What he did was issue Theo a series of guides. For the next few days they escorted him - slowly - around areas of the medical compound for two hours a day. The escort was there not only as a guide and potential assistant in case of trouble, but to keep Theo away from other augmented people. There were no ID badges here, no way of telling the players apart unless you already knew who they were.

One particular location quickly became a favorite of Theo. This was the gallery which ran along the top of the wall at one end of the gymnasium where the augments trained. Watching - from a safe distance - the Third Class augments break Olympic records as a routine part of their training was entertaining. Watching the Second Class augments go beyond human limits was amazing. Watching the First Class augments do impossible things was... intimidating.

"Who is that?" said Theo, startled, as he watched a woman with flowing silver hair use pieces of equipment few of the other augments even approached. His guide today was Phil something, a young, very well-built physical therapist who seemed to have a bad case of augment envy. Among other clues, he was both full of trivia about the augmented people here, and eager to share that knowledge. "If I'm reading that right, she's doing a clean and jerk of over twenty tonnes!"

"That," said Phil, smiling, "is Edna Kistiakowsky, aka Spidersilk. The most physically powerful human on the planet. She's also one damn fine woman, if I may be excused for saying so. Wait, you can see that setting from here?!"

"Yeah. The regeneration cleaned up my eyeballs. Dr. Singh says I have twenty-ten vision in both, now."

The augmented equivalent of a nautilus machine was essentially the reverse of a large hydraulic press. It could be equipped with several different attachments for various exercises. Using the thing pumped up a high-pressure hydraulic reservoir. This stored pressure was used to spin a turbine which in turn drove a generator, which actually supplied a small but significant portion of the electrical power used on the island.

"She was a hippie in the late Sixties. A real flower child. Her commune got hold of what they thought was a new type of LSD and tripped out on it. Now she can bench press a tank. Oh, and her physical age is stabilized in the mid-twenties. Even though she was older than that when she triggered."

"Wow..." was all Theo could say.

"She's in our Security division. Usually as a bodyguard."

"Those must be the safest bodies in the world," said Theo, with feeling.

"Well, next to hers," said Phil, with a laugh. "As much as I hate to stop watching her, you need to keep moving. Come on."

"Okay, okay," said Theo, though he repeatedly looked over his shoulder as he shuffled away.

* * *

By the end of the week Theo was able to get around almost normally, and ditched the walker for a cane. Using the walker had strengthened both his leg and his new hand, and using the cane would continue this progress. He still needed to work them, but could now do so as part of a more normal fitness regimen. He would also still be under the guidance of a personal trainer. All field agents were.

Another change was that he moved from a hospital room to a bungalow. This was equipped with the basics, including clothing and some food for the kitchenette. Since he was already on the payroll, he could afford to finish the job of making his new home livable. There were several small shops on the island, and what they didn't have could be ordered.

Living in my own place on a tropical island, thought Theo, as he got settled in. Already the time he had spent mutilated and in hospital bandages was receding from his awareness. Not bad.

Of course, it wasn't all a lazy idyll. Just now he was in his new bathroom changing into arguably the strangest garment he had ever worn.

After several days of discussion, Sir Roger and his consulting board of experts on augmented humans had approved a program for testing Theo's powers. This quickly revealed that once he understood what was happening, Theo could feel the proximity of another augment and choose not to copy them. That meant he was now free to walk anywhere around the island not specifically prohibited. It also meant that his training in the use of his powers was cleared to start. His first lesson was with Sandra, just an hour after breakfast, since he already had experience with her powers. This left Theo experiencing a mixture of anticipation and anxiety.

"You ready?" said Sandra, smirking, as Theo finally emerged from his bedroom into his combination dining room and living room.

"Do I really have to wear this?" he said, indicating the skin-tight leotard he had on. That there was nothing under it but him was embarrassingly obvious.

"No," said Sandra, innocently. "We could both be naked."

"That might be just slightly less revealing," said Theo, deliberately muttering loud enough for her to hear.

Sandra laughed. Theo had to admit she had a nice laugh. As well as a nice body. Even though he knew it wasn't her base form, it was how she saw herself... or at least how she wanted others to see her. If her appearance did reflect her inner self, she was indeed a beautiful person inside as well as outside. If a very randy one. Sandra was obviously checking out Theo's package.

That's all right, I guess, thought Theo, with a mental shrug. I'm checking her out, too.

This was easy, since she was wearing an identical outfit. She had arrived in a wrap dress, and startled Theo - while also briefly raising his hopes - when she whipped it off.

"Notice, though, that now that you have it on it doesn't feel nearly as tight," said Sandra, as Theo sat on the floor across from her. "It's a viscoelastic material, and stretches to fit after a second or two. That's important for several reasons. Among them, it not only offers no real concealment, it offers no real support, so I can better judge how well your shapeshifting is doing. But! Since it resists sudden movement it can protect against blows, stabs and even bullets. This material is the basis for what we agents call our action costumes. Which are considerably more substantial than this.

"Okay, if we're both through ogling each other, let's get down to work," she said, sitting and moving into lotus position. "First and foremost, you need to be relaxed. Once you're good at shapeshifting you can do it when nervous, in a hurry, whatever, but until it becomes second nature it just doesn't work if you try to rush or force it."

"That's reassuring, actually," said Theo, sitting across from her in the best approximation of her position he could manage. "Means I won't change when I don't want to."

"First thing, I think we should get you in female form," said Sandra. "If we're both girls that will be less embarrassing for you and less distracting for me. You also need to get used to that for what we plan to have you do."

"Okay, this is going to be personal, but... I thought you were bisexual."

"No. It's just that... When I can be anybody, that means I can screw anybody. Right? I mean, when in Rome..."

"I guess," said Theo, with a sigh. He was actually worried he might feel the same way, when female.

Theo was able to copy Sandra's power with a brief bit of concentration. However, he was able to retain his own, male form. That is, he had her power, but wasn't currently using it.

"Okay, let's try something simple," said Sandra, when informed of this. "I want you to imagine yourself as a female. Just you as you'd have been if you'd been born XX instead of XY."

Theo nodded, closed his eyes and concentrated. He'd never wanted to be a woman, but he'd occasionally wondered what that would be like. He also had a good imagination. After several minutes he had a fairly clear mental image. However, he couldn't "make it real" as he had in the hospital room.

"I don't get it," he fussed, after giving up for the moment.

"I think I do," said Sandra, thoughtfully. "I think that at that time you were also mimicking Sir Roger's intelligence boost; that's why you did so well so quickly, before. Like I said, don't force it. Just keep imagining yourself as a woman until it happens."

Finally, Theo felt the odd sensation of change, and gasped. She didn't need to open her eyes to realize that she was now all woman.

"Wow," said Theo, breathlessly, staring down at her modest cleavage. She giggled. "I can see my nipples."

"Go ahead."

Theo looked up at his teacher, to see her grinning hugely. Sandra raised her hands and hefted her breasts, then nodded. Theo swallowed nervously, and did likewise.

"Not... all that much to feel," she said. "I mean, they're kinda small. But, wow, are they sensitive. Especially the nipples. They feel like... well, they're throbbing and..."

"Careful," said Sandra, impishly. "You're not wearing a panty shield in that thing. Also - and I hate to disillusion you - those are pretty typical in size."

Theo flushed and jerked her hands away.

"Okay, I need to take a DNA sample," said Sandra, reaching for her bag without rising. "They want me to do this at various stages, to see just how far the changes go for you."

While she fished out the swab, Theo thought of something and pulled her legs into lotus position.

"I can do it, now! Whoa! This position makes it obvious how... flat my crotch is. And wide. And... This suit actually feels like it's trying to get inside me."

"Open your mouth," said Sandra, reaching out with the swab. "Oh, did you notice you didn't stare at my ass when I twisted around?"

"Huh?!" said Theo, as Sandra took advantage of her startled gape to stick the swab in.

One quick wipe later and she was putting it back in the sterile container. As she wrote on the label she noticed Theo twisting around to examine her current form.

"Go check yourself out in the bathroom," said Sandra, with a waving motion. "Get it out of your system so we can try other things."

"I just got this thing on," Theo muttered, rising.

She stumbled.

"Wow. Center of gravity is off. Hips are off." Something occurred to her. "Hey, my leg and hand are completely healed like this."

"Yeah, but the injuries are still there, underneath," said Sandra. "Trust me, you can use shapeshifting to compensate, but if you're hurt or sick it will eventually show through."

"Got it."

"Oh! It's a good idea to pee while you have the opportunity. Shapeshifting on a full bladder is a really bad idea."

In the bathroom, Theo stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of the door. At first she wasn't sure she even needed to take the leotard off. It was so conforming she could not only see a cameltoe and her nipples, but also the matt of her pubic hair and her areolas. Theo bounced up and down experimentally, and wondered what that would be like with bigger breasts. She thought about enlarging hers, but decided not to.

Getting out of the leotard bottom was a struggle. The two-piece outfit was so clingy that peeling it off was almost as hard as getting it on had been. Theo realized that she was still the same size as before; her mass had simply been redistributed. That made her a bit tall for a woman.

She got the bottom down, pooling it around her ankles, then stepped out of it. The top was only a bit easier. She then turned again towards the mirror.

"Wow..."

Theo looked vaguely like an amalgam of several of her female relatives. She turned, and twisted, then tried a few poses. One of the "sexy" ones actually made her burst out in a fit of giggles. Sighing, she turned back to the leotard. That motion caused her to notice an internal pressure, and she remembered Sandra's advice. Theo lifted the lid and sat on the seat. She winced; it seemed unusually cold. After a few futile moments, she was a bit worried that she'd have to call on Sandra for operating advice, but eventually figured things out. Wiping was an experience in alien sensations. Theo flushed and washed her hands, then closed the lid and sat on it to begin the long process of getting re-dressed.

"About time," said Sandra, turning off the TV.

"I hate this thing," said Theo, indicating the leotard.

"Yeah, but, seriously, they are very useful for this sort of training. They're tough and elastic and change with the form. Now, just stay standing right there and let's try some cosmetic alterations. First, let's get you down to a more typical height."

Given some of the things Theo had heard about her, she had been a bit concerned about being alone with Sandra. However, aside from the occasional ribald remark she kept things strictly business. She didn't even touch Theo except when that was necessary for the instruction or to take another sample. After half an hour of "fine tuning" Theo's new form - frequently with the help of a tape measure - she announced another break. She took one more DNA sample, then called dibs on the bathroom.

Theo waited impatiently outside the door until Sandra was finished, then hurried inside. Once she saw her reflection she gaped. Then immediately opened the door again.

"You turned me into a sexpot!"

"Look again, and imagine yourself dressed in conventional female clothes," said Sandra. "You're a very fit 90 - 75 - 95 centimeters. A body which most men should find very attractive, but which is not extreme."

She smiled, and took in Theo's whole body with a sweeping gesture.

"I've built your first alternate. Something which, depending on clothes, makeup, scents and mannerisms could be barely noticed or a stand out in a crowd. Something I want you to remember, so that you can change into it with little effort or time. Something attractive, but not extraordinary."

"Why a woman?"

"If you do go into the covert part of our operation you'll probably spend most of your time as a man. Hell, there are times when I have to be a man. However, women can get things from people - including other women - which men can't."

"I can see that... I guess."

"Anyway, we're about done, for now. I want you to stay in that form until I come back tomorrow."

"What!"

"Seriously. This is an important part of your training. You have to get used to an alternate, be comfortable in it."

She leered at Theo.

"Just don't get too comfortable. We don't have you on birth control yet."

Theo flushed and sputtered as Sandra winked, then turned to gather her stuff.

"You... I really have to stay like this until tomorrow morning?"

"Were you planning on going anywhere?"

"My therapeutic walk around the compound," said Theo. She gestured at herself, looking a little desperate. "I feel... helpless like this. I mean, I can't go out wearing this, if something happens..."

Sandra stopped and thought for a moment. Then nodded.

"Okay. I'll bring some clothes back in an hour or so."

"You really want me to walk around like this. I mean, in women's clothes."

"If you want to work covert operations, you have to learn to at least appear comfortable and casual in any reasonable form," said Sandra, sternly.

"All right," said Theo, throwing her arms wide with a sigh. She gave a humorless chuckle. "Just call me Thea."

End Part Four

Weave of Life

by

Rodford Edmiston

Part Five

"Here you go," said Sandra, handing a small suitcase to Thea. "Panties, several bras - yes, I'll help you figure out which ones fit best and how to put them on - a couple of pairs of slacks, three pairs of shorts, a couple of blouses, sandals, a one-piece swimsuit, a t-shirt and a skirt. Also, a CARE package of feminine hygiene products."

"No skirt," said Thea, with a delicate shudder. "Not ready for that, yet."

"Be glad I didn't bring makeup," said Sandra, with a laugh, as she put the suitcase on the dining room table and opened it. "Though I did bring sunscreen and a few skin care products. Blinds still drawn? Good. Let's get started."

* * *

"This is hideously uncomfortable," said Thea, eventually, as she considered herself in the bathroom mirror. She tugged absently at a bra strap through her shirt. "The panties are fine, but... this bra... It's not so much painful as just... unaccustomed."

"Remind me to tell you some time about my first experience wearing an athletic supporter."

"Ow?" said Thea.

"Definitely ow. Okay, you're about as ready as you're likely to get at this stage of your training. Let's finish getting you dressed. Then, lunch, then I have a mission briefing and you're on your own."

Slacks, a blouse and a pair of sandals, plus a sun hat, completed Thea's ensemble.

The walk to the cafeteria gave Thea a chance to practice, and get used to the unfamiliar apparel. She had to admit, while the bra was uncomfortable, having her breasts unrestrained as she moved had been very distracting.

"I can already tell there are several Augments in here," said Thea, in a low voice.

"That ability, alone, should be very useful."

They slid their trays down the line, filled their plates - Thea taking considerably more than Sandra, with a substantial emphasis on meat, due to still being in recovery mode - and were turning towards the tables when someone called out to Sandra.

"Oh, good," she said, waving back. "There's most of the members of the covert team."

"Those are the people I'll be working with?"

"About two-thirds of 'em," said Sandra. "Some are probably on assignment, some just not at lunch right now."

There was an exchange of greetings as Sandra and Thea joined those already at the table, about an even mix of men and women. They appeared to have just begun eating. Thea could feel their powers. She very deliberately did not copy them. Plenty of time for that later.

"Okay, folks, this is Theo - currently Thea - our new recruit," said Sandra, in a low voice, after they were seated. "I've got her - usually him, for those of you who missed it - practicing her first standard alternate right now so go easy on the poor dear."

"I heard we were getting another shapeshifter," said a younger man, nodding. "Welcome to the menagerie."

"That's Thad Barstowe, aka Nightpool."

"Wait, what?" said Thea.

"Didn't they already tell you about this?" said Sandra. "All field agents have distinctive nicknames, for security purposes. They should be gender neutral and only vaguely descriptive, though puns are allowed. There's few enough of us - not just the covert team but _all_ field operatives together - that there's little trouble keeping us straight. Mine is Protein, pronounced and spelled like the nutrient but meaning protean."

"I can move from shadow to shadow at will," said Thad, looking smug.

"Teleportation?!" said Thea, astounded.

Thad nodded, with a smug smile.

"There's only three of us working here, and I've got the best range. Almost three thousand klicks."

Sandra pointed her fork at a Caucasian, middle-aged woman.

"That's Brainy, or Catherine Wein. She can read minds, alter people's perceptions, and a few other tricks. Which don't include being super-smart. Fortunately, she's pretty bright all on her own."

Another woman was next indicated, this one very Native-American looking, perhaps in her thirties, and a bit above average height.

"Alice Tolliver, aka Mouse. She can change her size from one-eighth normal to five times normal."

A man, mid-thirties, average height and build, Caucasian, red-headed and rather pale.

"Sideways, Malcolm Stewart. Can phase through things, almost become invisible."

She pointed, finally, to Thea.

"Theosophilus Guild, no nickname yet. Copies the powers of others. Currently aping mine."

"That's a good name," said "Nightpool." "Ape, I mean."

"No, thank you," said Thea, rolling her eyes.

There was some chuckling at this.

"So... what is it we do? I mean, what do you do that I presumably will be doing?"

"That depends on your current skill set and what they decide to teach you," said Sandra. "What were you before you rescued me?"

"A dental hygienist," said Thea, flushing and ducking her head a bit.

To her surprise, there were no smirks or jokes. Most of them actually looked thoughtful.

"That could be useful," said Sideways. "There's lots you can do with teeth."

"Just what is it you folks _do_?"

"We go in places, find things, and get out," said Brainy, with a shrug. "Hopefully with no-one noticing. Sometimes we take things in; sometimes out. We include people in the 'things' category. As well as information."

"We don't go into details," said Sideways, who appeared more serious than the others. He also spoke less. "Even among ourselves."

"True," said Sandra. "What we don't know we can't tell, deliberately, accidentally or under torture."

"Torture?!" said Thea, a bit alarmed.

"It's rare," said Brainy, though not in a reassuring tone. "In large part because we keep very close tab on our operatives. Nightpool has pulled many of us out of tight places."

"There are enhanced people at this institution who aren't field agents," said Sandra, nodding. "A large segment of them are dedicated to watching over the field agents and helping them."

"That's reassuring," said Thea.

"Don't worry," said Mouse, grinning. "We're a valuable commodity. Even the bad guys - well, the ones aware of augments - know we're worth more alive and in good health than dead. They also know what happens when one of them hurts or kills one of us. Even most terrorists will trade us for money or a getaway."

They chatted for over half an hour, talking about their work, their powers, other augmented people and their powers, and Special Resources. The company was involved in many endeavors; espionage was actually only a small portion of that. At a quarter to one, however, the members of that specialist clique began excusing themselves. Some had mission briefings, some debriefings, and Nightpool was going on leave.

"Gotta see my folks," he said, as he rose and picked up his tray. "See ya' 'round."

Thea realized she had been so enthralled with the talk that she had fallen far behind in eating. She sighed a bit at being left alone, but actually was feeling more comfortable, now. She finished and took her tray to the dump bin. As she turned to leave, she bumped into someone.

"Oh!" she said, flushing, "excuse me."

She backed up enough to see his face, and was startled to recognize one of her former guides.

"Well, hello, there," said Phil, smiling at her. He leaned a bit to his left, putting his arm on the wall, as if to keep her from leaving. "You're new here."

"Uh, no, I've been here almost a month," said Thea, her voice going high and nervous.

One part of her mind was going _just tell him_ but another part was too embarrassed, while the dominant part was too busy not panicking to have a say.

"Well, I'll have to have a talk with whoever has been hiding you," said Phil, moving even closer.

Thea backed away instinctively, but not far before bumping into the bin. She opened her mouth to say something - _anything_ - but nothing came out. Thea was actually afraid, about ready to bolt.

"Phil!" came a deep female voice. "You already have two complaints about this type of behavior. One more and you're off the island. So back off."

Thea looked towards the speaker, and saw, first and foremost, a halo of silver hair. Edna Kistiakowsky. She seemed much larger close up. Or maybe she just seemed large because Thea was currently smaller than she was used to. Or perhaps she just seemed larger than life because she was rescuing Thea.

"Hey, I'm just being friendly," he said, a touch of anger in his voice.

Edna looked over at Thea.

"You interested in this guy?"

"Not really," said Thea, managing to sound almost calm. "I have someplace I need to be."

"Well, since you're new here, why don't I escort you?" said Edna, with a friendly smile.

"I'd like that," said Thea, returning the smile.

She sidled around the still-unmoving Phil and walked away with Edna.

"Thank you for the rescue," said Thea, in a low voice,
as the exited the cafeteria. "I wasn't really sure what to do. Uhm, you see, I'm..."

"The new augment, copying Sandra's powers," said Edna. She glanced at the startled Thea and smiled. "I saw her introducing you to the other spooks and figured things out."

"Well, I'm still grateful."

"What are you doing out, unescorted and in that form?"

"Sandra wants me to get used to doing things like this," said Thea, sourly. "I believe it's called throwing me in the deep end."

"Do you actually have someplace to go?"

"Uhm, no. Though right now I'm thinking about going back to my bungalow and locking my doors."

Edna laughed.

"Well, if you don't mind, I'd like to get to know you. I'm the senior field operative, and I tend to mother all the others. Let's walk, and I'll show you the island."

She didn't look much like a mother in her short skirt and bandeau top - more like a beach volleyball champion on vacation - but Thea was definitely not protesting.

* * *

"...and that's about it," said Thea, with a sigh, as she tossed another pebble into the ocean.

They were sitting on a bench at a scenic overlook, the breeze blowing their hair around, just talking. Thea realized something and looked at Edna.

"Okay you know my life story. Because I've been doing all the talking. What's your story?"

"I was a hippie chick," Edna said, manner changing as she recalled who she had been. She smiled, and this time it was a very different expression from what Thea had seen before. More wistful. "Not one of the passive ones, either. One of those the establishment was right to be worried about. I was part of a group which protested and demonstrated and recruited. We were going to change the world. We did, too. For a little while."

She gave Theo a sad smile.

"When Nixon resigned, we thought we'd won. That soon the world would embrace our views and usher in a new era of peace and enlightenment. So we decided to celebrate. As we made our preparations, Terry Schuyler said he knew where he could get some new stuff, but it was expensive. We let him raid the petty cash box, and while he was gone set up a real feast. He came back with this little glass bottle of clear liquid. Said there was enough for two drops each. Toby Leigh told him that stuff better be good, and Terry promised miracles.

"After we ate our fill Suzie Nonukes brought out a bottle of her special passion wine she'd been saving. We each added two drops to our glasses, and there was some left - Terry was never good at math - so half of us, me included, added one more."

She sighed, smiled and stretched, manner entirely changed. Gone was the professional bodyguard, the manager, the mature protector. She seemed almost girlish.

"Man, that was a glorious high. I don't know when I came down, but I woke up the next morning sitting right where I had been. I _really_ needed to pee, too. I saw that my hair was silver, but figured that was just the last of the acid working.

"The others were still sleeping, so I got up, went to the john, cleaned up a bit and drank a lot of water, then went in to get the others up." Her expression was becoming increasingly sad. "Only they weren't sleeping."

Tears welled up in her eyes but did not fall because she did not blink. Instead, she looked steadily out at the ocean.

"I was the only one to survive."

Her expression hardened again.

"I called the cops. They confirmed the others were dead, and arrested me for killing them."

"Wait, what?!" said Theo, startled.

"You gotta remember the times. People like me had caused all kinds of trouble, and we weren't the only ones who thought we had won. There were plenty of people who would have just as soon rounded us all up and shot us. The fuzz needed little excuse to put another hippie in jail.

"They made me shower three times, then one of the matrons scrubbed my hair herself, trying to get the silver out. That's when I knew that I really had changed. Didn't mean anything right then; I was still too stunned.

"For the next few days I was just too numb to care about anything. Then one of the older gals - a real hard case - started bullying me. I just pushed her away. She didn't like that. She pulled a shiv and slashed my face. Only it didn't leave a mark.

"I was as stunned as the rest of them in that little prison rec room. I felt my face, while she just got madder and madder, too crazy to wonder why her knife hadn't worked. She stabbed me, over and over, but the knife wouldn't go in. Suddenly, all the bad things which had happened - my friends dying, me in jail, all of it - just came to a boil and I shoved her so hard she put a crack in the far wall.

"The guards ran in to break up the fight. Only there wasn't a fight; just the tough gal, lying on the floor, moaning, a shiv beside her. When they asked what had happened, the other girls all said I'd attacked the tough girl. The guards weren't sure they believed that, but hauled me off, anyway. The tough girl - I'm not sure I ever knew her name - went off to the infirmary.

"In solitary that night I kept going over and over what had happened. Finally, I just stood up and shoved the door, like I'd shoved her. It slammed open, pieces of lock hitting the far wall hard enough to chip the paint. Then I walked out."

"Just like that."

"What, you think they'd waste guards watching people locked up in solitary? Anyway, I managed to get all the way upstairs and into the guards' locker room before anyone saw me. I was pulling doors open, looking for clothes, when some of them entered, going off shift. They tried to stop me but I just ignored them, changed into some stuff and started walking out. That's when they opened fire.

"You have to understand, the whole thing had a dreamlike quality to it. I just assumed their bullets wouldn't hurt me. They didn't, of course."

"So where'd you go?"

"Back to our loft. It was a real mess. They'd tossed the place, just to mess our stuff up. Then others had looted. I still found some stuff I could use; my own clothes, keepsakes. I gathered what I wanted, and walked out. Went off to a retreat I knew about in the mountains and lived there for weeks. That's where Roger found me."

There were several long minutes of silence. Thea wanted to ask questions, but wasn't sure what. Then something beeped.

"Sorry, gotta go," said Edna, after looking at her pager. She stood, professional manner returning. "See you around."

"Wait. What's your code name?"

"Spidersilk. When they tested me, here, one of the techs said my tendons were as strong and elastic as spider silk."

She grinned.

"I liked it, so I took it as my name."

* * *

As she entered the meeting room Edna saw Sir John already there. Which was fine. She wanted to talk with him before the others arrived.

"Finally met our newbie," said Edna. "Sweet guy. Or, rather, that was the impression I got. Gave him my whole sob story as a test. Hard to tell for sure, though, since Protein currently has him being a woman for a day. New hormones, and all that."

"Throwing him in the deep end, is she?" said Sir Roger, nodding. "Probably a good idea. We may need him sooner than I hoped."

"When are you going to fill him in?"

"The psych team is still working on their evaluation. Despite what they think I think of them, I do respect their valuations."

End Part Five

Weave of Life

by

Rodford Edmiston

Part Six

Sandra arrived at Thea's bungalow shortly after breakfast the next morning, while the occupant was still washing her dishes. She allowed Thea to resume being Theo, then began debriefing him.

"Looks like I better give you a crash course in girl defense techniques," said Sandra, not quite laughing, when told about being cornered and rescued. "So, did you make use of any of the 'hygiene' items I gave you?"

"I practiced with both the pads and the tampons, even though I didn't need them," said Theo, with a sour expression. She blushed. "Yes, I also tried the vibrator."

"Good!" said Sandra, laughing.

"I... well, I couldn't... cum."

"Not unusual, even for those of us born female," said Sandra, sympathetically. "Did you enjoy it, though?"

"Well, yeah. I just couldn't climax."

"I'll include some hints about that after I teach you how to get away from unwanted male attention gracefully."

Theo looked away, obviously uncomfortable, and from more than the idea of having masturbation lessons.

"What's the matter?" Sandra said, having noted his odd expression after Theo related the encounter with Phil.

"It wasn't just... that he scared me," said Theo, uneasily. "I mean, yeah, I felt very vulnerable, but... It's like... he smelled good! I was so confused by that, I couldn't think of anything! Not just what to say, but... Anything!"

"Yeah. Typically, women have a keener sense of smell, and are more affected by pheromones," said Sandra, nodding. "Remember, I've been through this in the opposite direction. First time I was a man for any length of time I was amazed at how my eyes kept drifting to womens' chests."

"Yeah, it's not natural to change gender," muttered Theo.

"Tell that to those fish," said Sandra, with a smirk. "Anyway, you need to finish catching me up so we can get on with things. We have a busy day planned for you. Testing your mimicking ability this morning, basic self-defense training after lunch, then a special meeting with the brass this evening."

"Special meeting?" said Theo. "That could be good or bad."

"Trust me; around here it's probably bad."

* * *

Theo spent two hours copying the powers of various Triggered and being tested as to how well he could use them. He was, at different times, able to lift enormous weights, clumsily - and slowly - fly just above the floor, move with blinding speed and start a fire in a wastebasket just by thinking hard. That last was an accident; he was supposed to ignite a cotton ball soaked in alcohol set on a steel sheet for safety. At the end he was exhausted. Sandra took him to lunch, then dropped him off with the beginner's self-defense class. After which he was even more exhausted.

Still, he looked forward to the meeting. Maybe there would be news about the people who were hunting him.

* * *

Theo arrived in the small auditorium only a little early, due to still learning his way around the island. He was surprised to see that Sir Roger was waiting for him alone in the small meeting hall. The youthful old man waved his cane as Theo entered, motioning for the younger man to join him near the stage.

"Please, sit down," the doctor said, pointing to a chair facing his. "I wanted to see you alone before the others arrive. For a mixture of reasons. I suggest, to speed things along, that you mimic my heightened intelligence."

"Okay," said Theo, puzzled and a bit worried. He sat slowly in the indicated chair.

"I wanted to tell you something alone, partly because it's personal and partly because of the nature of the information. I have studied two previous augments with mimicking abilities. Both could copy any characteristic of any person, and not just the powers of other augments."

"Oh," said Theo, startled. He frowned, thinking. Better than usual, thanks to copying Sir Roger's ability. "So, you think I can do this, as well?"

"Yes. However, it is always better to train individual aspects of powers, to focus on one thing at a time. Now that you have shown that you can both handle copying the powers of others and taking different forms, we want to start training you to adapt others' forms on your own, and also to copy memories and abilities, both physical and mental."

"I can do that?!"

"The previous two mimics could, and we have seen evidence that you have already done this unconsciously."

"Oh," said Theo, frowning in thought. "Oh! When I turned into Sandra, that day in the hospital, I wasn't using her power, I was copying her form! Wait... Okay. Yeah. That's what I was doing, but it's because of an interaction with her power."

"Most of the evidence was seen in the days immediately after you awoke from your dose of Crescendin. After you became aware of your power, you were preoccupied with copying powers rather than people. A deliberate manipulation on our parts, I confess."

"All that medical stuff I read!" said Theo, in sudden realization. "I wondered why what I remembered later made no sense, even though it seemed to at the time."

"Yes. The mimicry is not permanent. You currently can hold a power for a few hours, and probably other abilities for a similar span. With training you should be able to extend that."

"Wow..." said Theo, grinning.

"Be warned. This power can be very dangerous to you, and very intrusive to others."

"Okay... I can see how copying someone's memories could be intrusive. Why is it dangerous to me? Could I become... lost?"

"One of the other mimics went feral," said Sir Roger, sadly. "She copied a bobcat in a forest and lost her human mind."

"Wow..." said Theo, with a completely different meaning than before. He swallowed, nervously.

"We managed to recover her, and immediately retired her. To this day she is unable to use her powers. She also has other... problems, despite extensive therapy. At least she is able to lead a mostly normal life. The other mimic eventually had to be committed. He grew so distressed over the memories and skills he copied fading with time he became delusional, convinced he was losing himself, dissolving away. So he retreated into himself, and faded away to catatonia."

Theo was obviously frightened, now. Sir Roger nodded.

"Good. I want you to be reluctant to use this power. I want you to think twice, three times, and more, before you copy someone. Each time, before you do it, I want you to be certain you must do it. That, plus the techniques we developed from studying Mary and Calvin, may help keep you sane and human."

Theo swallowed again, and nodded.

"Good. I want you to understand that if you wish to withdraw from your agreement to participate in field work I will support that decision. There are still things you can do, here, under supervision, which will be very useful while greatly reducing the risk to yourself. What I ask is that you wait until after the briefing I'm about to give to make that decision."

"All right," said Theo, quietly.

"These powers," said Sir Roger, folding his hands over the head of his cane, "are something new in human evolution. Oh, there may have been isolated incidents due to someone encountering a natural Trigger drug in the past. That may even explain some legends and myths. There are certainly enough tales of someone using some herb or plant-derived drug to gain power or immortality. If so, such events were very rare. Because of this our genome simply hasn't had time to adapt. Even our culture is only just starting to adjust to the discovery made by Dr. Naggy. That factor of a lack of time to adapt alone likely accounts for over half the deaths from taking Crescendin. There just aren't any safety valves in our genes to protect us. Unless that is why so many do not Trigger."

He put a hand on Theo's shoulder.

"You aren't alone. We know the risks. We can help you, and we will help you."

"Thank you."

* * *

As people arrived for the briefing Sir Roger greeted each by name, sometimes adding a pat on the shoulder or a personal comment. Nearly all responded with similar familiarity. This was no performance, no managerial technique. Obviously, Sir Roger knew his people, cared about them and was respected by them.

Sandra arrived about halfway through the process, with three other people.

"Hey," she said, as she approached Theo, who had taken a seat down near the stage. "How are you doing?"

"Still digesting everything." Theo continued internally, Especially some things I just learned from our boss.

"Theo, this is Happy Jack, Kathy Jurado and Lucy Daheim. More members of the menagerie."

"So," said Kathy, a tall and very beautiful black woman, "you're another shapeshifter. That could be handy."

"I know what I'd be if I could change shape," said Happy Jack, wistfully. He was one of the most average people Theo had ever seen in form, only the contrast between his Caucasian features and dark tan appearing in the least unusual. "A pole at a strip club."

The Sandra and Kathy glared at him. Lucy - a pale redhead of average height - actually smacked him, but playfully. They chatted a bit as they took their seats and waited.

Finally, after the last few trickled in just before the half hour, Sir Roger nimbly hopped onto the stage at the front of the small auditorium and took the podium.

"Good evening. Most of you know about Protein's recent mission. There is a detailed description of that in your briefing folders. You'll notice there is also a great deal of additional material. Because we have recently learned - thanks partly to our efforts and partly to the NSA - much more about those responsible for her problems and their goals."

He waited a moment for people to finish leafing through their copies of the documents.

"The culprits were several intelligence operatives, military personnel and a few others from government and private industry who believe that the new US administration is too soft on their nation's enemies. Note that they have believed this through several years and several election cycles, no matter who came to power. Apparently, few candidates satisfy them and almost no-one actually elected. Some resigned their positions to get away from whatever disaster they feared was coming. Some remained at their posts, to work covertly against their own employers. Most of the latter have been arrested, though a few had enough warning they were able to escape. Perhaps a third of those who preemptively quit have also been arrested. The rest are now all in hiding, cursing the system which they honestly believe failed and betrayed them.

"The theft of the Basement Bomb plans was only one of their operations. Special Resources were involved in stopping a few of those other activities. However, we were made privy to all of them, once the intelligence and law enforcement communities realized these several events were connected. Because of this, we were able to notice a certain pattern behind the scenes. These people had all purchased services from - and were selling other services to - a specific person, who will be familiar to some of you. Michael Fairfax. A man so small of soul he desires to pull down everyone around him so they don't remind him of how little he is.

"For those who don't already know, he was one of our first test subjects, back in the Forties. A psychotic criminal who volunteered for our project in hopes of having his sentence reduced. Few guessed just how maniacal he truly was until after he was empowered and felt free to act on his impulses. I suppose today they'd call what he was back then a high-function sociopath; he had enough intelligence to know he needed to act in a normal manner to avoid trouble, and enough willpower to usually do so. Today... I don't believe there is a word for him. We don't know exactly what his abilities are because he concealed them, originally pretending his test was a failure. We do have clues, and they are worrying."

There was a sizable stir in the auditorium.

"Much is still unknown about these operations and Fairfax's involvement. We are working with the NSA, the CIA, the FBI and much of the rest of the US Federal alphabet to learn more... and put a stop to these people. This will be one of our largest jobs. Every single one of you will be working on this until further notice. Many others will be aiding the effort part time. All of you and perhaps more will be needed. This job will not be easy. Even without the involvement of Fairfax, we are dealing with professionals, many with extensive field experience. These are, for the most part, Cold War veterans, with contacts and resources we will not know about until they are used against us.

"Your individual tasks will, of course, be given privately, for security reasons. It should be obvious, though, that all of you will be doing something important. Something which could very well save thousands of lives."

End Part Six

Weave of Life

by

Rodford Edmiston

Part Seven

The meeting was a long one. The bad guys had been busy, and were involved in several elaborate and not a few simple schemes. The variety of their activities was bewildering; apparently, the various groups had little in common besides wanting to "do something" to change the situation of the United States, and perhaps elsewhere in the world. Their plots ranged from stealing secure material for use in their efforts, to selling weapons to people who would presumably use them against the enemies they perceived. The common factor which united these efforts was a nexus, an information clearinghouse which coordinated the various projects and people. A nexus centered around one man.

Thanks to the work of Michael Fairfax, not only were all these disparate groups working towards a common goal - though it was one they didn't necessarily agreed with or even know of - they were doing so with far more chance of success than they would have otherwise. Even some of those who were caught were subsequently been freed through various machinations. Including having fake law enforcement officers or military police take them away.

Two hours along Sir Roger called a break, and had an extensive array of snacks brought in. There was soon actually a small buffet set up on tables along one wall.

"Okay, I thought this was supposed to be need to know," said Theo. "That we'd break into groups and be briefed on our specific missions."

"We will be," said Sandra. "Because all these projects are interconnected, we all need to know the overall view. So that if we find something connected to one of the other branches of the conspiracy we'll recognize it."

"Oh..."

"Can you believe those guys?" said Happy Jack. "They call themselves 'Freedom's Ring'! How stupid is that?!"

"Fanatics and scoundrels often cloak themselves in noble rhetoric," said Kathy. "Fanatics are also notoriously lacking in objectivity. This group doesn't realize how silly their name is, for the same reason they don't realize that their actions betray the ideals which they claim motivate them."

"I notice that Edna - Spidersilk - isn't here," said Theo.

"She's in security, not investigation," said Sandra. "If you see her while on a mission, it probably means things have gone south in a big way, and she's there to save your ass."

"I think I love that woman," said Happy Jack, wistfully.

"You and half the other field operatives," said Sandra.

Sir Roger approached, looking serious. He spoke to several people in passing, then stopped in front of Theo.

"Have you reached a decision, yet?" he said, puzzling those with Theo.

"Yeah," said Theo, nodding slowly. "I'm in. I've always liked helping people - you can ask Sandra about that - and this is a chance to help a lot of people. I'm in."

"Good." He spoke more loudly, looking around. "We'll be resuming soon, so eat, drink and be merry."

Bellies comfortably full and blood sufficiently caffeinated, they returned to their seats as Sir Roger again took the stage.

Half an hour later he concluded the group portion of the briefing. He shifted to another page in his notes.

"Now you will be divided into teams for each of the areas of interest I mentioned. One exception to usual policy is that Sandra and our new member Theo will both be working together. Putting two shapeshifters on one team may seem strange, but he is still new to this business and will need supervision from someone with similar abilities."

Theo realized that Sir Roger hadn't told them he wasn't exactly a shapeshifter. He wondered how many others in this group weren't quite what they seemed to be, and would be doing things not quite what those going to other assignments thought.

They were broken into teams without being told where they were going or when. Each group was assigned a coordinator, who gathered his or her charges and led them to a meeting room in another part of the building. Once they were so ensconced, the coordinator of Theo's group - a non-augmented, middle-aged woman named Lucille Thurber - handed them folders.

"You're going to Miami, in three weeks," she said. "There's a business convention being held there which is a cover for the illicit international arms trade."

Theo now realized that he was in this group - and Sandra with him - because the event they would investigate was still three weeks off. That allowed time for him to receive at least bare-bones training. He suddenly felt uncertain, and more than a little afraid. He would be going in harm's way. For a good reason, yes, but the last time he encountered any of these people he wound up crippled and nearly dead.

Fortunately, the others were too involved in the briefing to notice Theo's momentary faltering. He took a deep breath, and steeled himself. This was a chance not only for revenge, and not only for justice, but to keep the people they were after from doing to others what they had done to him and nearly done to Sandra. He put his mind back on the business at hand.

* * *

Three weeks was entirely insufficient for training a spy. Theo received breakneck classes in procedures, acting, etiquette and clothing - both male and female for those - first aid, self defense and several other topics. Many of these were things he wouldn't have thought related to espionage, security or investigation. The fact that he could see the connection after receiving the training was a testament to the ability of the trainers. Most importantly, he received training with his mimicry. This last actually went very smoothly and quickly.

The lessons Theo had received in shapeshifting helped a great deal when coupled with the more general education in his powers. By the middle of the second week he was able to mimic the form and mind of any human he tried, except for a few augmented who had powers which granted defenses against this. The process was easiest if he were actually touching the target. Being very close but not quite touching made things much harder, and each increment of distance increased the difficulty. Interestingly, if he were in a form not his own due to channelling Sandra, he would change back into himself after mimicking someone else. That was a good thing in some respects, but could cause trouble on a mission.

He learned he could copy someone's memories and store them for better than a day, tapping into them at will. He was still dealing with the bizarre mental side effects of both having someone else's thoughts and then losing them. He would not do this on the job unless he thought that absolutely necessary. The thought processes of some people could easily ruin the mission.

The last three days before heading out, Theo and Sandra took on the forms they would wear to the conference. These were fictional identities with well-developed fake histories. They practiced staying in character constantly, except when they actually needed to do some mission preparation which required them to be their real selves or one of the alternate identities they also practiced.

Theo's new identity was a handsome Hispanic man with just a touch of grey at the temples, the owner of a citrus importing company who also dealt with drugs and weapons. Theo discovered that his suave new appearance was very popular with the women on the island, but was a bit too nervous - and short on time and energy - to take advantage of this. Sandra was an Italian woman with contacts among the traditional crime families. This was apparently not a new role for her, from what Theo gathered. He also learned that she spoke fluent Italian, with a cosmopolitan accent. His main worry in regard to his new identity was that his Spanish wouldn't hold up. He'd had two years each in high school and college and had used the language some since, but it was definitely a second tongue for him. Fortunately, it was as well for the man he was supposed to be.

Finally, there was no more time. Theo and Sandra took on their "travel" forms and made ready.

The first stage of the trip for Theo - or Leo Hudec, as his ID now stated - was for him to enter the US in this short-term form before he became the man who would attend the conference. Theo flew out of the island airstrip on a DC-3 owned by Special Resources. This took him to an airport in the Caribbean, and from there to the mainland via a route which let him enter the country without actually having to go through customs. Once in a private location he changed into Andrés Gomez, the main identity he was to use for this mission. The records would show that he had been in Georgia for over two months before heading to Florida on a regularly scheduled airline. Theo actually slept almost the entire flight to Miami, and napped during the cab ride to his hotel. He was that tired.

He and the other members of the team had arrived separately or in small "family" groups. None of them knew how the others were traveling or where they were staying. What each of them did know were the forms Theo and Sandra would be wearing at the conference, how to contact some of the others and call for extraction from outside the city, and where the safe house was.

* * *

Theo had a couple of days to play tourist, and he dutifully did so. He wasn't really interested in seeing the sights, but this fit the profile of Andrés Gomez so that's what he did. He was actually glad when the business conference began. Dressed in an outfit just barely not tacky - in a style which Theo thought of as Hawaiian informal - he mingled with the other attendees. He spotted Sandra but gave no sign he recognized her, nor she him. On the other hand, neither did they avoid each other. Not only might that have appeared unusual, he also needed to renew copying her power. Theo found the whole role-playing situation exciting and even vaguely erotic, and repeatedly had to remind himself this was not a game.

As he had been trained he didn't force the situation. He let others contact him, and played things cool. There were disgusting amounts of drugs and illegal weapons for sale, as well as those looking to buy such goods. Theo demurely insisted that he was a citrus shipper who was merely there on a combined business trip and vacation. Which, as his handlers had predicted, led to even more contacts.

Theo made copious mental notes about various people and deals, but the first day of the convention ended with no signs of what he was actually there for.

That evening he went out to a bar near his hotel and "accidentally" encountered Kathy, who looked very fine indeed in the outfit she was wearing. Soon Theo was in her room, reporting. Kathy's augmentation was primarily mental, and included mnemonic memory.

"That's about it," he said, finally. He heaved a great sigh and fell back on the bed. "How are the others doing?"

"You know I can't tell you that," said Kathy, in a gently chiding tone.

"Oh. Right. Ah, well. Do you think we've taken long enough to convince anyone who might be watching?"

"I know one way to make sure," she said.

To his surprise she lay down beside him, put a hand on his chest and began nuzzling his ear.

"Are you serious?" said Theo, startled.

"Yes. Oh, don't worry. I'm not going to insist if you don't want to. Though if you're as interested in me as I am in you - and from they way you looked at me in training I think you are - then I won't need to."

"I admit, I think you're very attractive," said Theo, rapidly getting turned on. "Isn't this fraternization, though?"

"Listen, it's only a problem if we're on duty. We just finished. So, if you're willing..."

He was. Oh, definitely, he was...

* * *

The next day Theo approached his task with renewed enthusiasm. Which may have been how he noticed five men - two of them obviously muscle - discreetly exiting the main hall to head for the private meeting rooms in back. It was probably nothing - deals both legal and illegal were being made in such meetings throughout the convention - but as they passed near where he was Theo casually moved closer to their path. He was startled - and barely concealed this - when he felt that one of the men was Triggered. He watched them walk down the corridor to a room before he - with apparent calmness - turned and walked to a parallel corridor.

Theo had been briefed on the layout of the convention center. He knew the meeting rooms were adjustable through moveable partitions. He also knew there were several entrances to each. Casually, he left the hall by the far right corridor, then moved to the rear of the building. There he turned left, and began walking towards the middle corridor, which the party of interest had used. As he crossed that hallway he saw the two guards standing outside the door of one of the partitioned off rooms. They glanced his way, but Theo was moving casually, and while there were few people back here he was far from the only person in the area. There were several small meetings and panels being held here, as well as private deals going on.

Theo moved on down the back corridor, then turned left along the third corridor, moving back towards the hall. He counted along the entrance doors until he found the room behind the one where the guards were stationed. The room inside was half-lit, unused. Carefully, he crept to the partition between this room and the one he was interested in.

Theo pressed his ear to the crack and listened. Most of the words were muffled and indistinct. However, one of the men was clearer than the others. He only spoke about a third of the time, but one thing he said told Theo he'd hit the jackpot. One of the first words he heard the man say was "Crescendin." Something about a stash of Variant Eight. Theo froze. The discussion was both brief and vague. He gathered that this was a preliminary meeting, held merely to set up a bigger one elsewhere. Unfortunately he couldn't hear where. He was wondering if he should try to tap one of the men, but decided none of them were close enough. Besides, it sounded like they were leaving.

Theo should have waited until they were gone, but he was still new at this. He instead turned and started to move away. Only something grabbed at his pants. Startled, and already hyped up, he lunged, feeling and hearing something tear. He looked back, and saw to his horror that his pocket had hooked the door handle and pulled it down, unlatching the door. He froze. For just a moment he thought his gaffe had gone unnoticed. Then he heard a startled exclamation from the other room.

Theo bolted. He ran across the room and into the corridor, slamming the door behind him. There, though, he had an idea which cut through his panic. He was much closer to the back of the building than the main hall. There were restrooms there. If he could get in one before anyone came through the door or around the corner...

He did, entering the women's restroom at a dead run. Fortunately, it was not only empty, but the lights were out. He had the foresight to grab the door and ease it closed. Then he fumbled his way blindly into a stall, and closed and latched the door. He got his breathing under control and listened, waiting, pulse hammering in his ears. What felt like minutes went by, though a quick check of his watch showed it was only seconds. No-one came to the door. In fact, he heard nothing. Had he gotten lucky?

He forced himself to wait ten minutes. Then he pulled his smart phone out of his shirt pocket and called Kathy's number.

"I'm in trouble," he whispered, when she answered.

He almost blurted the details, but his limited training caught him.

"What do you need?"

"Local pickup, with change," he said, remember the code phrases he'd been taught.

"Where do you want it?"

He needed an anxious moment to remember the location of the restroom, but it suddenly came to him and he relayed it.

"On the way," said Kathy.

Theo left the stall and moved back to the door. He turned the lights on and focused on controlling his breathing. Almost ten more minutes went by before he heard a quick, quiet double knock, followed by a single one. He gave two quick knocks back. The door opened, and Sandra entered.

"What do you need?"

"New form. New clothes. They know I ripped my pocket. Shit, I just realized, my hotel key card was in there, with my change."

"Take my shape and wear my clothes," said Sandra, after a moment of thought. She reached back to unzip her dress.

"What will you wear?" said Theo, startled, but not so startled that he didn't pick up the cue and change shape when she paused, dress halfway off, to glare at him.

"Watch and learn," the shapeshifter replied with a smirk, handing the now Thea-being-Sandra her dress. "You'll be me. I'll be your rebellious but good at heart little teenage sister, here with bad family news you have to deal with."

She finished stripping, tossing items to Thea, who draped each piece of clothing over the top of the stall side in order. Thea turned back after dealing with the panties to see Sandra placing her shoes on the counter. Now completely naked, she looked in the mirror to help as she made herself appear younger and a bit shorter and less buxom. Then she frowned in concentration.

Thea gaped as the other woman's nipples and aureolas vanished.

"I call this the Barbie configuration. As long as I don't need to pee, take a dump or nurse, I'm good."

Thea reflexively looked down and stared.

"Okaaaaay. That's just weird."

"Oh, I'm not finished."

She concentrated again, and parts of her skin began changing color and texture. In seconds she appeared to be wearing a tube top and very tight shorts.

"Hurry and change clothes," said Sandra. "This is very uncomfortable. I'm basically stretching my skin and changing the color to look like fabric. I've also unnaturally firmed up my boobs, so they don't bounce too much."

"What's that octopus that disguises itself as plants or pieces of coral?" said Thea, astonished.

"Strip. Get. Dressed."

"Yes, ma'am," said Thea, jumping to it.

In under a minute she was wearing wearing Sandra's clothes. Theo's suit was unceremonially stuffed in the waste bin, wadded paper towels put on top. They didn't bother salvaging the wallet; its contents were fake, after all. Thea noticed that Sandra now appeared to have studs in her ear lobes and nose, but that something else was missing.

"Oh; I just realized," said Thea, as they walked out of the ladies' room, "you don't have shoes."

"What do you want?" said Sandra, testily. "Miracles?"

Fortunately, no-one noticed. Or maybe they just didn't feel like challenging the obviously moody Sandra-as-her-rebellious-niece. One of the body guards Theo had seen earlier passed them, obviously heading towards the restrooms. They had just made the change in time. Outside, the first cab which pulled to the curb was driven by Happy Jack.

"Where to, ladies?" he asked.

Sandra clearly gave the name of a hotel which none of them were staying at. They climbed in and Happy Jack took off.

"Doing the body paint routine again, eh?" he said, glancing in the mirror at Sandra.

"Just get us to the safe house," said Sandra, actually sounding in pain. "I'm really glad it's warm out."

"Sure," said Happy Jack, waiting until they were well on the way to Sandra's hotel before making several sudden turns. "Okay, I think we're clear. Should be there in three."

End Part Seven

Weave of Life

by

Rodford Edmiston

Part Eight

"God..." groaned Sandra, collapsing on the bed in the bedroom of the safe house as her "clothing" vanished.

"You still look like a doll," said Thea.

She glared at her... and changed into a man. A naked man. With an erection.

"Hey!"

"Now, what happened? It better be good, too. I was making serious progress."

"Could you at least cover yourself?!"

Sandra not only whipped the beadspread up and over, but shifted to her default form. Thea took a deep breath, and began a quick, concise and clear recital of the essentials. Not skimping on the embarrassing part. By the time she was finished, Sandra was sitting up, looking alarmed.

"Okay, we call this in now. I mean, I'll call it in. You take your contingency form, grab some clothes and money. I'll do the same as soon as I finish. I don't know for certain Sir Roger will want us to pull out, but that's a good bet."

* * *

As things developed, that was a good bet. The rest of the team was left in place, operating at a lower-key status, while the pair of shapechangers returned to the island. They traveled together as man and wife. Sandra threatened to make Theo take the "wife" role but that was a bluff; she didn't want him playing a part he might have trouble with.

"So that's it," said Sir Roger, after hearing Theo's report in person. "He's found someone who knows where an old stash of Crescendin is held by the United States government. This actually fits with some of his previous behaviors."

"Would it still be good?" said Theo.

"The molecule is fairly stable. Keep the stuff cool, sealed and away from light, it will last indefinitely."

"What would the street value of this be?" said Sandra.

"He is far more likely to use it on people of his choice than to sell it," said Sir Roger, frowning in thought. "Or perhaps simply destroy it, to prevent possible competition. Which wouldn't be a bad thing, if we were certain that was his intent."

"It's known on the street as Power Urge, Trigger and a few less common names," said Jules Bokker, who was the liaison with US law enforcement. "It is not common, by any definition, but it's been escaping into the wild, so to speak, almost since it was invented. The first documented use outside the lab or trials was in 1949."

Bob Stańczyk, representing US intelligence agencies, spoke up.

"We're checking the backgrounds and whereabouts of every known member of this ring and all their associates. Of course, that's unlikely to get anything close to most of those involved. Even someone who knows nothing about the conspiracy could have provided the information on where this Crescendin is. Someone could have even innocently provided info they didn't know was secure. It's amazing how often that happens, especially with politicians..."

"You also need to learn specifically which variant is being sought," said Sir Roger. "If this is an old version - especially Variant Four - he might be planning a terrorist-type attack."

"Oh, God," said Jules, paling. "I hadn't even thought of that."

"I'm sure he said Variant Eight," said Theo.

"That doesn't mean that's what it actually is. The person you heard is likely not an expert."

"I just wish I could have tapped whoever that was who had the powers," said Theo, sourly. "He probably knew where the stuff was."

"From your description, I suspect that was Fairfax, himself," said Sir Roger, scowling. "In which case, you might have bitten off more than you were prepared to handle. Between his powers and his insanity he has defeated trained telepaths in the past."

"It wasn't Fairfax," said Bob, with a curt negating gesture. "We were watching that place very carefully."

"Fairfax has a disturbing ability to slip in and out of places unnoticed," said Sir Roger, hotly. "You cannot underestimate this man! He is talented, experienced and ruthless."

"For all we know, he can change appearance, too," said Theo, as this suddenly occurred to him.

"Or teleport. Or flow in through the sewer," said Sir Roger. He shook his head abruptly. "Most likely, based on previous evidence, he simply has some way of masking his presence, even from cameras. Which is why there are no known photos of him since he Triggered."

Theo could tell there was a lot of history between Michael Fairfax and Sir Roger Landsworth.

"All right," said Bob, reluctantly. "If it was Fairfax, I can see how getting a batch of Crescendin could very well be important enough to bring him out in person. Question is, would he stay around after your man blew it?"

Theo bristled.

"He hardly 'blew it,'" said Sir Roger, a bit hotly. "He got the information, and then had a bit of bad luck, compounded by his inexperience. What's important is that he learned a significant fact about what Fairfax is after and got that to us."

"If only we knew more about what Fairfax's plan is," said Jules, wistfully. "We have a general idea about the goals of the ring - to supply funds and material to people who will use them against people they see as America's enemies - but what does Fairfax want?"

"Well, my report may help with that," said Sandra. "The guy I was working on was hiring mules. He specifically wanted attractive women, though that may simply have been because he's a sexist pig. He wasn't supposed to give any details but he couldn't help bragging. I managed to learn that they would be used to smuggle 'packages' from Virginia to New York. The impression I had was that they were small and hard. He joked that they were jewels, but I'm pretty sure he was lying. I also found out the mules would be needed in eleven days, from today."

"Hold on," said Bob, raising a hand and sitting up. "I need to check something."

He pulled what looked like an oversized smart phone out of a jacket pocket and hit a speed dial button. After a few seconds he identified himself and asked to speak to "the disbursements officer." After a quick, quiet exchange he nodded and hung up.

"Okay, there's an auction of old government office and laboratory equipment in Virginia in nine days," he said, looking smug after the cryptic exchange. "One of the identified ring members we haven't picked up yet works for the agency handling the auction, which is how I know about this. I can't get a list of the items; federal law says that's kept confidential without a warrant until it is handed out to the bidders the day of the auction. The warehouse where the stuff is being stored until then is likewise off limits. I'm pretty sure that getting a warrant - or even just showing up at the site - would tip off their man. However, I'm also pretty sure I can get access for some of us - the number to be determined later - to inspect the places where this stuff came from."

"If you can get even a list of the facilities the goods came from, I may be able to select the best ones to visit," said Sir Roger.

"That I can do."

Inside an hour they were poring over several copies of a three-page list. Theo quickly learned that he was no good for this task; all the names were pretty innocuous, and required someone familiar with spook work to recognize.

"Wasn't DalHill Pharmaceuticals a CIA cover?" said Sir Roger.

"I'm surprised you know that," said Bob, with a displeased look. "Yes, it was. It was sold to an international research consortium after Congress closed down some black projects back in the early Eighties; the new parent company went bankrupt a few years later, taking DalHill with it. I think the building was actually demolished for a shopping center, so there won't be a visit. However, all the secure stuff was supposed to have been destroyed except for one set of documents on microfilm."

"That sounds familiar," said Theo.

"Yes, but the inventory of what was transferred from secure storage to the auction warehouse says nothing about microfilm or paper documents," said Jules, tapping the paper.

"May I?" said Sir Roger, holding his hand out.

Jules passed over the printout. Sir Roger leafed through it, stopped briefly, continued to the end, then went back.

"Here," he said, putting the printout on the table and jabbing a finger at one line. "Morphine ampules."

"Could that be Crescendin, instead of morphine?"

"I'd bet a considerable sum on that being the case," said Sir Roger, nodding.

"So, we need to figure out a way to switch it for something else, and plant a bug in the case," said Jules, nodding.

"Legal access is probably out of the question," said Bob, frowning in thought. "Non-legal access would be very difficult."

He looked expectantly at Sir Roger.

"Let's take a moment to think this through," Sir Roger said. "Morphine is restricted and its trade very closely monitored. Who on the list of attendees would be qualified to purchase it?"

"Nearly half the list," said Bob, sourly. "They don't know ahead of time what will be offered, but the bid invitations are based on ability to properly and legally use or sell at least some of the materials being auctioned."

"Ah. Well, if you could arrange to acquire an appropriate case of morphine ampules, I do believe we might have the resources to make the switch."

Bob peered at the description in the paper. Then pulled out his satellite phone again.

* * *

Getting the case to the island took five days. Theo wasn't a witness to the actual operation, but he knew that Thad (Nightpool) Barstowe made the substitution. Theo specifically requested to be present when the case of Crescendin was opened; he'd never actually seen it, except briefly, in a syringe, right before his IV was injected.

"There's a command-activated bug in the case we substituted," said Bob, looking very satisfied with himself, as Sir Roger examined the pilfered case. "Thing's as close to undetectable as we can make it. That's just the backup, of course. With our people and your people watching who gets the package and where they take it, that probably won't even be turned on."

"I suggest anyone who hasn't already had a dose of this step back," Sir Roger announced. "The seal is intact, the case appears undamaged and I don't hear anything rattling, but there's no sense taking chances. The ampule form of Crescendin is so concentrated that a tiny splatter on the skin could cause a reaction."

Bob and Jules nervously took several long steps backwards, towards the door to the large room. Theo grinned as he realized he didn't need to. Sir Roger snipped the wire holding the seal and pried the stiff latches open. He looked inside for a moment, then carefully selected and pulled out an ampule. He examined it, and turned to the agents.

"Morphine," he said, holding the small glass container out towards his audience.

"Son of a bitch," said Bob, in quiet fury. "They switched the stuff out before we did."

"Assuming we were right. I think you need to contact the CIA and find out just what was removed from that laboratory for storage. I believe we can definitely make a need-to-know claim."

"I hope we can get the info quickly," said Jules. "We still don't even know if there was Crescendin involved, or if they want something else in the auction."

* * *

Three more long, anxious days passed before the CIA finally provided a heavily redacted list. Fortunately, since Bob had been specific in their request, the portion giving the drugs, chemicals and related materials was mostly intact. Theo was included in the group examining the list because he could mimic Sir Roger. The younger man's presence had been the older's idea; he had noted to Theo away from the feds that two super-geniuses would be better than one at analyzing the information.

"Here we go," said Sir Roger, after a few minutes of examination. "'Crescendin +T.' What the Hell is 'Crescendin +T'?!"

The fact that the man who was arguably the world expert on Crescendin had no idea didn't bode well for anyone else there knowing, and indeed they didn't. Bob pulled out his phone again. This time he needed over two hours before reaching someone who presumably could provide the information, only to be told flatly that the information was above his clearance level.

"It may be above mine, jerk," he muttered to himself, as he hit a speed dial button, "but I know some people in high places."

This time he was very formal and even deferential, explaining the situation and giving a name and number to whomever he was speaking to. Bob thanked his contact and cut the connection, again looking smug. Nine and a bit minutes later, his phone rang.

"Yes? Oh, hello. Yes, yes, no problem. No, wait; let me put our expert on."

He handed the phone to Sir Roger.

"I need all the information you have on this drug, including any research notes. Because it has been stolen by terrorists and we need to know what we're dealing with. Well, if it's on paper you'll just have to fax it. If you don't have an aide or secretary of high enough clearance, do it yourself. This is, indeed, urgent, and potentially very important. Yes, thank you."

He gave a fax number and handed the phone back.

"Yes, sir. Thank you for your cooperation. I'll be sure to mention to Mrs. Stearns how helpful you were."

He put his phone away and smiled at the others.

"Well, shall we go check the fax machine?"

Printing the documents on the machine in Sir Roger's office took over an hour and a half, and they had to top off the paper tray twice. The most frustrating part was that the documents were sent in chronological order, and included a vast amount of bureaucratic and clerical material before they got to the actual technical data. Still, they learned something important with the first page.

"So, the US did try to develop their own version of Crescendin," said Sir Roger. "Interesting."

They worked in shifts, always leaving at least two people to review each page as it dropped into the tray.

"I really hope there's no communications failure on either end," muttered Theo, forty-five minutes along.

Fortunately, he didn't jinx them.

"Their approach is interesting," said Sir Roger, after sixty-three minutes. "They obviously reviewed all previous work and decided to try a different tack. Can't say I blame them. I've actually done the same thing, and plan to do so again. However, I don't like what they're trying to do with this carboxyl group. We tried something like that back in Fifty-Two and discovered there was a very high chance of getting the wrong end product as a contaminant."

Pages continued to come out, far more slowly than Sir Roger or Theo were reading them. Sir Roger began watching the pages as they extruded from the printer, reading each page from the bottom up and reassembling it in his head.

"Worse and worse. Their version was very unsafe, even without the contaminant."

When the reports of the animal tests came out he whistled.

"Well, I can see why they abandoned the project. While there was a very high success rate - nearly thirty percent presented distinct physical changes - the mortality rate was over forty percent. Moreover, nearly all the survivors who displayed a change showed gross physical deformities."

More pages.

"Oh, dear God..."

He sat, suddenly, looking ill.

"What?" several people demanded.

"They went ahead with human tests. On condemned military prisoners, yes, but... All of them died. All of them."

More sheets came out of the printer, presenting both more information and more cause for concern.

"Here's the reason for the mortality discrepancy," said Sir Roger, holding up a page from one of the last reports to come out of the fax machine. "Over half the test animals were female; all the human subjects were male."

"Testosterone was a factor?" said Theo.

"Yes. Hence the +T designation. Which was added later."

"How would this stuff affect, well, us?" said Theo.

"I have no idea. I will have some animal tests run to find out, now that we have the formula."

"So what do we do in the mean time?" said Theo.

"You have more training to take," said Sir Roger, pointedly. "You did well for your current level of expertise but there is definite room for improvement."

"Yeah," said Theo, with a reluctant sigh.

"You look tired," said Bob.

"I could really use a Budget Burger," said Theo, wistfully.

"I suggest we all take a break," said Sir Roger. "Get some food, contact those appropriate. Then, we must plan."

***

That's it. This was intended as a stand-alone story which would lead into a longer one. I even made a few notes on what came next. However, other projects came along and this was put aside.