of privacy afforded. He had never bathed very often, but he ordinarily would
have wished it now. But some fear, an unreasoning thing, made him hesitate. He
did not, however, have much choice.
The hypnotics held. When he emerged and looked at himself in the mirror, he
still saw the image of a young boy, not the image that was actually there. He
dressed again and was led back to the detention room.
After lights-out, she lay beside him, and their hands came together and
squeezed; she clung to him as if he were the only real thing in her life. They
hugged and cuddled for a bit and rubbed each other’s backs. In the dark, she had
no deformities at all.
He wanted her, and clearly she wanted and needed him, but his injuries prevented
that for now. The fact that they were isolated and alone and facing an uncertain
but definitely unpleasant future heightened their desire. But they both slept,
huddled against each other for reassurance.
For Chow Dai, Chu Li’s companionship was a deliverance, no matter how temporary,
from the pit of hell. She had never experienced the kindness and gentleness that
this boy had shown her even when she had been unscarred; the fact that he did so
even when she looked so horrible was wondrous and magical. She barely knew him,
yet she knew she needed him and would risk anything for him. He had but to ask.
She dreamed the first pleasant dreams she had dreamed in weeks.
Chu Li’s dreams were different. He dreamed that he was making real love to her,
although she had long, silky black hair and no scars, but as he approached her,
naked, she suddenly got a look of horror on her face and shied away, crying.
This was mixed with other, stranger dreams that even included spaceship
schematics and nightmares where he saw his parents, alive again, but when he ran
to them they recoiled in horror and turned, and when they turned back they were
not his parents at all but the tall, frightening figures of that other girl’s
parents, the chief administrator and his wife. The girl was there, too, running
in and out of his dreams, spoiling even the good ones, dancing through and
whispering tauntingly, I know a secret.
The elderly orderly awakened them with a breakfast of rice and fish heads. Eat
well and relax, he told them genially. Tonight you leave for your destinies.
My sister and the boy—are they all right? Chow Dai asked nervously. She had
almost a sixth sense, as did many twins, ,about her sister even when separated,
but she had no real feelings of Chow Mai now, and that worried her more than
anything.
Oh, they are getting along fine, as are the two of you, it seems. Do not worry
about them. You will see them today. He chuckled to himself and left.
He looked at Chow Dai. Today. Sometime today.
She nodded. I hope they let us see each other for a while first. You know, when
my sister and I are together, often we need few words even to talk to one
another.
Chu Li was feeling a bit dizzy, a little fuzzy in the head, but he put his
disorientation down to nervous tension and apprehension. About midday he felt he
had to go to the bathroom and called for the guard. The sense of disorientation
continued and his stomach was upset. In the bathroom, he could be alone and,
hopefully, get something of a grip on himself. He felt as if he was losing his
mind.
Twice he’d failed to respond when Chow Dai had addressed him by his name.
Images—strong, primary images—of his parents, siblings, old friends, the details
of his past life, seemed to be melting or fading. He suddenly could not remember
what his father or mother looked like. The other memories, though—her
memories—were all still there and seemed to be getting clearer in spite of his
attempts to push them back.
He was led to the bathroom, and he sat, holding his head in his hands. Then he
looked down and put one of his hands down between his legs. Suddenly, some of
the conditioning broke away and was gone. They have emasculated me! He
unbuttoned his tunic and looked at and felt his chest. Two huge nipples atop
small, perfect breasts. He quickly got up and disrobed completely, examining his
body as if for the first time. The smooth skin, the curves… A girl! They have
changed me into a girl!
And not just any girl. He knew what was happening now. He was being changed not
just to female, but into her, the one he hated, the daughter of his people’s
murderers!
He saw it all now, or thought he did. She could not remain as she was, so she
had somehow convinced the computers there, or the doctors, to take him, a lowly
nothing, and change him into a mental and physical duplicate of her. The victim
was turning into the oppressor. The memory of the beatings had probably been
planted so that he wouldn’t notice the surgery until it was too late to betray
her.
There was an angry knock and an impatient snarl from the other side of the door.
He knew he had to get dressed again fast and get out of there. They could change
his shape, but they could not change his mind, he vowed to himself. He was a
boy, even if now locked in a girl’s body. He might have her memories, but he
would never become her. Never. He would die first. There was more to manhood
than what they had stolen from him. Monks refused all sex, yet they were
certainly men. It was important to him that he keep this attitude no matter how
much of her eventually took over. He could never become her, become the callous,
cruel, and evil one she was, if he retained that.
He was rudely cursed by the guard and led back to the detention room where Chow
Dai awaited. Chow Dai. He could face anything but dashing her few hopes—even
this. He still wanted her. He loved her, damn it—but he could never make love to
her. That was what his dreams had been telling him.
Rat! You were gone so long, I was getting worried about you, she told him.
I—I made some discoveries about myself, he responded carefully. At least his
voice still sounded normal, at least to him. He wanted to tell her, to tell
somebody, but while she would understand, the revelation would still crush her.
He couldn’t do it. Not now. Not until he had to.
Discoveries?
My—injuries—are far worse than I thought, that’s all.
She hugged him. Don’t worry. Peasant girls are taught infinite patience.
Infinite is right, he thought sourly, but said nothing. For the time being,
escape was the only thing that mattered. If they did not escape, none of the
rest would matter. Later, if they made it, he would find some gentle way to tell
her.
In fact, by the change in him, the quieter periods, his reluctance to really get
close, she guessed a part of the truth. She suspected that he had just now
realized the extent to which the same people who had tortured, raped, and
disfigured her had also disfigured him. She knew just from the treatment she had
received afterward that they could do much, even make you forget your injuries
and pain for a while, although the effects wore off. Her mood fell as she voiced
her suspicions to herself. They have made him a eunuch, she guessed. It is the
only explanation. She had almost expected it, guessed it from the start when he
had spoken of his injury. Well, she wasn’t going to pretend that it didn’t
matter to her, but he was still the same kind, gentle one who had treated her
with respect and ignored her own disfigurement. She had no intention of
abandoning him, not now. If he could ignore her disfigured shell and see only
someone worthwhile inside, she could certainly do the same.
But though both of them saw and preferred the lie, the truth would not be kept
down inside of Chu Li. Bit by bit, as the day wore on, Song Ching’s truth
chipped slowly but methodically away at Chu Li, and he fought it. The boy’s
memories and sense of identity were rapidly fading now, leaving only Song Ching,
yet the biochemically induced Chu Li personality was becoming firmer, harder,
fixed.
Even for the computer it had been a rush job, an emergency, and it might have
been predicted that something undefinable and unanticipated would arise. Song
Ching had ordered blocks that made her cold, unemotional, machinelike, and this
had been altered only as required by the masquerade. As a result, the basic
personality and responses of Chu Li were the only ones present and created an
overwhelming desire to remain as they were, resisting all attempts at change.
The brain created personality, but it also was subject to a measure of
adaptation, and, having no countermanding fallback personality, it responded
to this urgent desire to maintain current levels. There was a dichotomy inside
of her, a war between body and brain that simply could not go on.