Fragrance
by Armond
Fragrance,
by Armond
Kipling once said "smell is surer than sight or sound."
At GenTech Labs, Sidney Edwards cannot trust his eyes nor believe his ears.
He'll have to rely on the forgotten sense to survive.
Smell is surer than sight or sound. - Kipling
Author's note: for a cleaner pdf version of this story, please click here
Part 1.
MONDAY, 8:00 A.M. - GENTECH CORPORATION HEADQUARTERS, MAIN LOBBY.
A barrage of perfume, cologne, and ‘natural’ scents slammed me, as it did every time I stood in a crowd. Such diversity! Yet I ‘scented’ the commonality the GenTech workers shared as they scurried to their cubicles, was desperate boredom.
Desperate boredom doesn't have a scent, you say? Ah! To amend the good bard's word's: 'There are more scents in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.'
Okay, things are dire if I’m mangling Shakespeare at this screaming early hour. It's 8:00 a.m., and I'm standing like a rock in a stream of business casual GenTech workers, looking for my contact. Finally, I spot her: a frantically waving cheery-faced woman who has HR written all over her.
“Mr. Edwards?”
“Yeah. Joni MacKenzie?”
“The same. Good to put a face with a voice; you're taller than I expected.”
Was that a compliment or an insult? I mean, was she saying I looked athletic, or that my phone voice was wimpy? I shrugged and pressed on.
“Please, call me Sidney.”
“Very well. And you can call me Joni. So you're on site how long, Sidney?”
“Eighty-eight hours, give or take a few minutes.”
I could tell by Joni's ‘deer-in-headlights’ glaze she wasn’t in the loop about my visit.
“Sorry, I'm out of here Wednesday night, Thursday morning latest. Any longer and I turn into a pumpkin.”
“Too bad you're not here for our Founder’s Ball Thursday night,” the portly woman said, oblivious to my humor attempt, “Napa Valley Catering is handling, so there’ll be a river of wine -well two rivers, white and red- ‘Innocence Mission’ is playing, and tons of schwag.”
Before I could ask what the hell ‘schwag’ was, Joni grabbed my elbow and herded me toward a long corridor.
“Follow me,” she said, her voice chirpy in a way only HR reps can be. “The Diversity video starts in five, then it's Careful Communications.”
“Are you sure I need this training? I'm just here for a few days.”
“Yes, Sidney, at GenTech, we ARE compliance. Where will you be working?”
“Building A, I think; Dr. Carter is meeting me at 10:30 out front to take me over.”
“What?! Are you sure?”
As I confirmed with a nod, I saw this information troubled Joni.
“Building A. The Biogenetics building. The Wonka Factory.”
“Think so. That’s where the MASG tests are being run, right? I’m the test subject. Why's it called the Wonka Factory?”
Joni looked from side to side and lowered her voice. “It’s where the Umpa Lompas work, and things go bump in the night.”
“Hmm! Looks like I've got a golden ticket, then, because that's where I'll be.”
“That’s another weird thing, you’ll be the first man in Building A, ever; not even Watchers go there.”
“Watchers?” I'd lived abroad for the last few years, but I didn’t think English could have changed that much in my absence. Perhaps Joni was speaking in tongues.
“Spooks. Security. There’s an army of ‘em here at Gentech.”
She grabbed my arm again and spoke even lower.
“I don’t know how well you know Carter, but watch out for her. She runs Building A like it's a hive and she's queen bee. You don’t fit the template of someone who would be welcomed there.”
“Why?”
Joni was squeezing my arm hard now. “Something’s going on over there. Something bad. I don’t know what. Rumor is they’re all lesbian bitches…”
I could only blink at her; absolutely no responses came to mind, which was a rarity for me. Maybe she’s the one needing Careful Communications training?
“… and hate anyone not in a skirt,” Joni continued. “I'm guessing that item of clothing is not in your suitcase?”
“Now that you mention it, I do happen to-”
“-Last warning! Do whatever they’ve hired you for, and get the hell out!” Joni said, and turned to chug down one of GenTech’s sterile hallways. Her voice was chirpy again. “Come along; riveting training videos await your viewing pleasure.”
MONDAY, 10:30 A.M. — GENTECH LOOP DRIVEWAY, CORPORATE HEADQUARTERS TOWER
“Hey, stud, up for a spin with an old cougar?”
I turned to the voice, and when I spotted Julia, waving from a golf cart, I felt a goofy grin cross my face.
“Sure, babe,” Then I cupped my hands to my mouth to form a megaphone. “You got any diseases, Jules? Want some?”
“Shhh!” Julia said, looking mortified. “You win; I was insane to start an insult war with you.”
“Surrender accepted.”
Julia jumped from the cart and gave me a huge hug. After we unclasped, I took a long look at my friend.
The years had been kind. Yes, her short hair was streaked with gray, and wire rim bifocals perched above her nose. But her bright eyes told me her passion for her work burned bright. And she still had the aroma of cinnamon.
I worked as a summer intern and test subject for Dr. Carter years ago, doing sensory research at her old MASG project before funding dried up. So long ago, I couldn’t remember what the damned acronym stood for any more. ‘M’ was for memory, ‘S’, sensory and ‘G’, gene, but I hadn’t a clue about the ‘A’.
I’d kept up with Julia’s success since then; but of course, who on Earth hadn’t? Mind-blowing gene mapping and alteration work, culminating in a Nobel two years ago. After that, GenTech wrote her a blank check and whisked her away to head their genetics research group.
Julia climbed back into the cart, and the nanosecond I eased into the passenger seat, she popped the cart pedal, making the cart lurch forward.
“Hello? Bags?” I yelped, as I gripped the side of the cart.
“Already in your dorm room. Before we head to ‘A,’ I wanted to-”
“-Excuse me? Did you say ‘dorm room’?”
“Don't get your knickers in a twist Sid, it's more like a flat. Most GenTech drones live in the surrounding burbs, but the Biogentetics group is a closed community, and we all live on the top floors of the building; our quarters have living and kitchen areas too.”
“Yeah, what's with this Building A stuff? Joni said the oddest thing about the way you run it; like a kingdom or something.”
“That’s the HR rep you met this morning? I must have Deirdre chat with her about keeping her lips from flapping.” Julia’s scowl quickly disappeared. “Before I take you to said mystery building, how about a quick campus spin to get your bearings?”
When we wheeled away from the main tower building and onto a broad concrete walkway, I got my first full view of the GenTech campus; it was laid out in a wheel design, the tower as the center, three wide walkways -and the main entrance road- were the spokes, connecting a vast ‘wheel rim’ of Buildings A through H.
As we whizzed along I took a deep breath; the spring air smelled salty fresh. Julia slowed to point out a four-story all-glass building; through the ground floor windows, I saw people puffing away on fitness equipment.
“The fishbowl is G, Product Development. Burt ‘My pecker’s bigger than yours’ Thompson heads up that pack of piranhas.”
“Did you just say 'pecker' 'pack' and 'piranhas' in the same sentence? Is this what comes of winning the Nobel?”
“Shut up!” She thwacked my arm. “Burt’s an ally, actually. The main tower has a cafeteria, but knowing your snobby tastes, you’ll want to go to ‘G’ because it has a gym, small grocery store and the ‘GenTech Eats Healthy’ gourmet health food bar.”
“Holy crap, ‘GenTech Eats Healthy’? Pathetic! A trained monkey could come up with a better slogan. How about, ‘For haut cuisine that’s not passé, dine at GenTech’s Gourmet Café,’ or-”
“-Sidney!” Julia held up a hand. “Nobel recipient here? Jingles are not in my job description. Feel free to pitch some to whomever will listen when you go there. Now, between ‘F’ and ‘G’ is a gorgeous lake; folks kayak on it in the morning. And over there...”
We zipped along the path, until Julia braked the cart, and pointed to a pasture area between the buildings H and A.
“Here’s a hobby I’ve picked up since the last time you worked with me; for grins, GenTech let’s me keep a collection of exotic animals; miniature llamas, ostriches, and a herd of Shetland ponies.”
This was a surprise; I thought I knew her pretty well, but I'd never guess she had an offbeat fetish like this. I wasn't sure how to respond, so I defaulted to sarcastic.
“Um ...how Michael Jackson of you.”
“An indulgence,” Julia shrugged, “the ponies are adorable! I started the herd a year ago and just keep adding to it. We stable em behind the woods near Building B.”
An indulgence? Drinking a $100 bottle of red instead of one costing fifteen is an indulgence. Upgrading to a Corvette over an Impala is an indulgence. Raising a herd of Shetland ponies? That bizarre excess smacked of something else. The words irrational, extreme, and unbalanced sprang to mind before indulgence.
I counted nine of the small horses, swishing their long tails and munching spring grass. When I turned back to Julia, I saw her staring at the gentle animals, deep in thought.
“Did you know that Shetlands have roughly the same body mass as humans? Pretty carefree life. Believe me, there are days I wish I was one of them.”
A life of nothing to eat but grass? I don't think so. “Wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”
“You’d be surprised what you can wish on your worst enemy, Sidney.”
I felt my eyebrows rise. That didn’t sound like my old Jules either. Had something changed in her? Still, my primary sense told me her core ‘goodness’ was true. So what if she was developing eccentricities, what of it? They way I figured, with all she’d achieved, she had earned the right to be a little weird. That didn’t mean I wouldn’t call her on it.
“Julia! How inscrutable. If you go all mystery woman on me, then I’ll ...I’ll dip into my flatulence joke bag. You remember that don't you?”
I was sure she did; the last time I headed down this path with her, my ‘gaseous winds’ monologue lasted a half-hour; each quip exponentially more stupid.
“I imagine you've acquired quite a pungent arsenal since we worked together.”
“A belch is but a gust of wind, that cometh from the heart, but should it take a downward trend, turneth into a fart.”
“No má¡s, I’ll stop with the cryptic, okay? I’m sure that was the tip of the iceberg.”
“Yup, but a whiff of my true cheese-cutting potential.”
Though Julia feigned dismay at my sense of humor, I knew she loved it.
She had battled her entire career; first, for respect, as a young female scientist. Next she fought -sometimes vicious- skirmishes with jealous peers at mid-career. Now that she had won a platform to advance her work, and had important work to advance, she was fighting a cold war with rival companies -and within her own as well- to hold on to all she’d earned through sweat and blood.
I imagine she had accumulated many enemies, a flock of loyal scientists who idolized and feared her, but …no friends.
Except me.
Eight years ago, when we worked together, I automatically treated her as if we were old chums, the best of friends. At first, she was stunned; no one had dared to joke with the uber serious scientist before, let alone unleash jokes about flatulence. Once she recovered from the initial shock, she became suspicious; what angle was I playing? Finally, when she realized I wanted nothing in return except her friendship, and after I wore her down with thousands of bad puns, she caved and we became friends.
Even though I never completed my college degree -which I knew disappointed her- we've stayed close; emailing, texting, calling, and even -heaven forbid- writing.
So yeah, my freakish sensory abilities are amazing and unique, and she did legitimately need me here to complete her old MASG work. But from a personal perspective? I bet she’s been looking forward to my visit for a long long time.
I know I had.
When we arrived at Building A, Julia led me inside to the elevator bank.
“Show time; are you ready?”
“Better be, I spent an hour signing waivers and releases. One sentence was -I kid you not- an entire page long.”
“Yeah, sorry kiddo, it's a lawyer’s world; we only exist to pay their fees.”
“I hope I don’t have to do it again,” I grinned about as wide as I could, “when they figure out I signed with a fake name.”
Julia palm-smacked her face. “What name did you use?”
“A fancy ass one I often use ‘across the pond,’ when I sign in at hotels,’” I snickered. “Juan Morefore de Rhode.”
“Juan Morefore-”
“-de Rhode. Get it? One more for the road!”
“Oh, God, the General Counsel will skin me alive. That’s not even close to a real name.”
“I know!” I was howling now; I truly amuse myself.
“I’ll have legal send over a fresh set of forms,” she said, as she reached up to thunk the back of my head. Then she grabbed a handful of my blond hair; it was much longer than the last time she'd seen it. “What’s with this?”
“When I agreed to your proposal, I went all in; bought clothes, let my hair grow out, and even bought make up.”
“Be still my heart! Are you actually taking this seriously? A gal can dream. Let's go then, the magic serum awaits in lab room A12.”
As she started to touch her ID badge hanging from her neck to a security sensor by the side of the elevator door, I reached a hand out to stop her; this didn’t make sense.
“It’s just us? Where are these Watcher guys? I heard Building A was Fort Knox or something.”
“We are our own security.”
My first thought was she was joking, but a look on her face told me otherwise. For just a moment, she looked ...well, I won’t sugar coat it, she looked deranged. Then it passed -I don't know; maybe it was the light- and she touched her badge to the sensor pad. She straightened, and a beam shot from an optical ball embedded above the pad; it scanned her left eye.
“Welcome Dr. Carter,” a pleasant female computer voice announced.
Julia motioned for me to touch my card to the pad as well. After the beam scanned my eye, the voice admonished:
“Retinal pattern not recognized. Verification incomplete. Await escort.”
“Retinal scans? Cool!”
“The security for the area you’ll be working in is not so stringent, but for the gene alteration lab? Oh honey, retinal scans are only the beginning! We still have voice pattern recognition, DNA ident, and rectal probe to go.”
“Rectal probe? You cannot be serious!”
“Gotcha! Woo, hoo! One for the good guys. Knowing how many gags you’ll inflict on us, it’s sweet to get a salvo in.”
“Hey! I’m not that bad-”
“-In comparison to who, Daffy Duck?”
The elevator doors dinged open, and I smelled roses.
The someone with the rose scent was five foot ten, wore a nameplate that read ‘Dr. Deirdre Rogers’, and looked like Kate Beckinsale in a lab coat and glasses.
“Sidney, I’d like you to meet Dr. Rogers. She’s my second in command…”
Second in command? What was this, a military organization?
“…and because GAP gobbles up so much of my time, I’ll only be able to oversee the MASG testing on a fly by basis. I’ve taken Deirdre off GAP while you are here to run your tests. I’m placing you in her capable hands. She’ll also be assisting me in your conversion.”
Two thoughts fought for primacy in my mind as I took in the information:
One — wasn’t there some sort of cosmic rule prohibiting egghead scientists from looking drop dead gorgeous?
Two — if looks could kill, she was definitely trying to send me to my grave.
MONDAY, 10:50 a.M., GENTECH BUILDING A, GAP GENETICS LAB A12.
I freely admit it. I'll shout it to the world. On top of my catalog of other glaring faults -bohemian slacker, never finishing anything- I am a world class wus. Needles scare the bejesus out of me, a temperature of 99 º sends me into whine mode, and if pain tolerance levels were a limbo contest, I'd win every time.
So, I was shaking as the team of white lab coats strapped me into a GAP stasis chamber.
“Hey, relax, tough guy,” Julia smiled at me and squeezed my hand. “You'll feel no pain; the anesthetic gas kicks in, you travel off to la-la land, and before you know it, we're waking up the new improved you.”
“I'm scared. What if I don't wake up? What if-”
Julia squeezed my hand again. “Hey, you. I won't let anything bad happen. If death comes a knocking, I'll turn him into a frog, alright?”
“’kay.” I blew out a small relief sigh. Knowing Julia, she just might.
She had been explaining the procedure to me for months and, intellectually, I knew everything would be fine, but thinking about the possibility of my death made me realize how little I'd accomplished in life. Almost twenty-seven years old and if Sidney Edwards left the world today, not an eye would blink.
The chamber door shut with a stark metallic -click- and I gazed on the world through a tiny glass window. I smelled the sweetness before I heard the gas hiss, and soon my brain melted to cotton candy and echos.
Before I fuzzed out, and after Julia smiled at me through the glass, Deirdre peered in too, and I swear the demon scientist's face had a look of sympathy. Or ...more than that ...caring?
Naw, had to be the gas.
MONDAY, 7:23 P.M., GENTECH BUILDING A, GAP GENETICS LAB A12.
Murmuring.
Voices drifting in and out.
“...you've made your position clear and I overruled ...be a professional and...”
That sounded like …Julia? Why was she in my bedroom? And why won't she let me sleep?
No ...that's not right …I was ...she and I were ...doing something. What was it?
“...my job as your second to warn ...Edwards ...endangers Project Y...”
I knew her voice too. Dammit! It's on the tip of my tongue, which felt like it needed to be shaved. Started with a D. Deb ...no ...Deer...”
“...Sidney’s the only one who can validate my MASG research ...his olfactory abilities ... best I’ve seen...”
I remember! I'm at GenTech! Did it ...work? I’m thinking, sooo I must be alive, but why can't I move? So tired ...my eyelids feel like lead weights.
“...why this side show now when we are progressing Program Y as fast as we can and is GAP at breakthrough stage? ...competitors ...trying everything to steal data. ...already outed three spies ...is learning how men and woman sniff differently worth the risk?”
Deirdre! That's her name! She sounds pissed.
“The sensory experiment is more than that, Deirdre, and you know it. Great, with GAP, we’ve proven we can safely alter a person’s genes to make them into …well, anything. Just look at her! She's stunning...”
Wait …who’s stunning? Does she mean ...me?
“So yes, we’ve learned how to manipulate genes. But we know so little about why our genes make us we behave as we do. Answering that is vital for Project Y…”
Why are they standing around having a scientific debate while I'm paralyzed and stuck in this tube? C'mon, Julia, quit the mumbo jumbo and get me out of here! But no, Julia droned on.
“Imagine finding the most sensory sensitive male and female in the world and comparing their behavioral responses to a wide range of stimuli. Must have data? Absolutely! Still, any conclusions must be qualified, as two people will always input data differently, however slight that difference may be. Now imagine if you could conduct the experiment instead with a single sensory gifted person, first as a male, and then…”
Julia stopped talking and I felt her eyes on me. Dammit! Why can't I open my eyes?
“…Sidney’s unique; his sensory responses eight years ago are still unmatched, so this is a golden opportunity to conduct the tests with Sidney as a female.”
“-Conversion complete,” I heard the pleasant female computer voice announce. “Reversal countdown begins.”
Thank God! The stasis chamber unlatched, the door popped open, and cold air rushed in. Suddenly I was freezing, but I still couldn't move!
“Oh …my…” Julia said.
“She’s darling,” Deirdre gasped.
Darling? DARLING? What the hell do I look like?
“Amazing is more like it.” Julia's voice again. “She’s perfect; the computer model didn’t do her justice. Her hair is spun gold.”
A hand ran through my hair, another across my cheek.
“So soft,” Deirdre said, hoarsely. “Did you design the virus to make her look like this?”
“Nope. Unlike our other conversions, the vector we used for Sydney targets the sex chromosomes of every cell in the body. The Trojan virus inserts nanites into the nucleus of each cell, which replicate the X chromosomes and deactivate the Ys. So Sydney reverts to the woman she would have been had she been born female.”
“Your work is magic,” Deirdre said. “Look around, we are surrounded by technology so expensive, I get lost in the zeros; so secret, people kill for it. The elimination of diseases, birth defects, injuries, of aging itself - all within reach. Whole segments of the medical and health care industries will be obsolete, and that's for just for starters. Look what it did for me! You see why I’m paranoid about …her …presence here.”
“I fully understand, but he is … she is ...my friend. I trust her. And …more than that …I need her with me. Especially now, when so much hangs in the balance. She will …steady me.”
“Nature was cruel to make her male…” Deirdre ran a finger across my cheek again, lingering at my lips. “She reminds me of Shakira.”
Shakira? The singer? My ears must not be connected right, she couldn’t have said that.
“The only alteration we did to her vector was to make her biologically eight years younger, the age Sydney was when she …he …interned with me. Look, she's waking.”
The weights holding me down faded and I could finally open my eyes. They fluttered, and then Deirdre and Julia came into focus. I cleared my throat.
“…Am …am I …a ...woman?”
My voice! Holy shit, they've turned me into a chipmunk!
“One hundred percent pure,” Julia said, as she unstrapped me. There were a dozen or more white lab coat types behind Julia and Deirdre. It was then I remembered I was buck ass naked.
“Um ...clothes?”
“In a minute; first we discuss rule number 1.”
Julia pulled a digital wristwatch from her lab coat pocket. It read ‘88:35:04’ and was counting backwards. She buckled it on my wrist.
“We have this much time before the deactivated Y chromosomes start to degrade.”
I recalled the conversation months ago when she'd proposed the new MASG tests. She’d phoned me in Nice, France where I was slumming. It had taken a marathon call just to explain the procedure.
Unlike previous alterations where they overwrote their subjects with new DNA, Julia needed me to become my genetically equivalent female to validate the prior MASG data. So 'Sidney' becomes ‘Sydney.’ But this created a time constraint, because the deactivated Y chromosome begins to degrade at around 88 hours. After that, mutation risk prevented injection of the reversal virus.
The analogy she’d used was the degrading chromosome resembled corrupt programming stings in a computer’s registry. If degradation began they could still reboot me back to chromosomal male, by overwriting with new DNA, but I would never again be the unique genetic code that was ‘me.’
Julia grabbed my face to make me look in her eyes.
“Tell. Me. You. Understand.”
Maybe my synapses still weren't all firing, because I let out a giggle. “Yeah. I told Joni after 88 hours I turn into a pumpkin.”
“NO! This is critical! There is no cushion or grace period. Got it?”
When I gave a groggy nod, Julia shook her head. “Say the words.”
“Unless I receive …the reversal virus, within,” I squinted at the wrist watch on my wrist -my God! That's my wrist? It's so tiny!- “88 hours and 34 minutes, I can never go back to my old body.”
“Good girl.”
Julia pushed my hair out of my face. “Now, before you have your gynecological exam,” My eyes popped wide at that, “take a look.”
She handed me a mirror. Taking a deep breath, I looked, turning my face to one side, then the other. Then I shook my hair, and laughed.
“Julia, I’m …I’m …”
“Pretty? Yeah, amazing, ain’t I, although, there was one major flaw with the procedure.”
“What flaw?” Was there something horribly wrong with me? A missing kidney, or eleven fingers, or-
“-Your stupid joke gene; I fear I was unable to deactivate it.”
MONDAY, 7:45 P.M., GENTECH BUILDING A BASEMENT HALLWAY.
“Why so quiet, Ms. Edwards,” Deirdre asked, “Aren’t you bursting with questions?”
I blinked, struggling to think through the sensations flooding me. I was so tiny! I felt small, helpless and overwhelmed.
Small, because I was sandwiched between Julia and Deirdre as they walked me down the hallway. Neither were Amazons in stature, yet my new 5’ 3” frame made them seem so.
Helpless, because I was clothed in a short green hospital gown and matching cloth slippers, the building A hallways had suddenly become crowded, and all eyes were on the new girl.
And since my senses were inputting sensory information at levels far above anything I’d experienced as a male, I was completely overwhelmed.
“Lot to take in,” I managed to whisper.
“The good news is the conversion worked perfectly,” Julia said. “Dr. Stevos confirmed you are a healthy nineteen year old female; you handled that well, by the way.”
“Yea me. That duck billed thing she stuck in …um …down there…” I struggled with the foreign terminology.
“The speculum, dear?” Julia suggested.
“I guess. It's always that cold?”
Julia snickered. “It could be warmed, yes, or a plastic one could have been used, but I thought you’d appreciate the …full sensory effect.”
“So that was …a prank?” I felt a slow smile crossing my face. “Tip of the hat, Jules; Lord knows I deserved it, for everything I pulled on you.”
“That’s it? No threats of evil revenge? Maybe I did deactivate your joke gene.”
I shrugged; and then looked at the women lining the hallway. “Why are so many people around? It’s like everyone knew when the parade would be.”
“They did,” Deirdre answered. “I texted everyone in ‘A’; I wanted them to get a good look at you so they’d know who avoid. I’m not sure you noticed, but there are no men here; that’s because it’s a controlled experiment.”
“I don’t understand, you mean the sensory experiment is female only, or GAP or-?”
“-No,” Julia interjected, “she means the entire ‘A’ research complex is, literally, an experiment. As males have been the dominant social gender for thousands of years, naturally, research has followed a patriarchal approach. It’s well documented women are more collaborative, network, and question more than men, so we set up Building ‘A’ as an experiment-”
“-to see how the work …produced by all female researchers …differs from research produced under the …the traditional male model?” I got it, it made a certain amount of sense.
“Very good, Syd, yes, that’s the thrust of it,” Julia said.
“Cool,” I smiled, but then my eyebrows arched. “What kind of soul sucking corporation spends money on this kind of research?”
“This is not supported by GenTech,” Deirdre answered. “It’s Julia’s brain child. She insisted on complete control of the Biogenetics research division as a condition of her employment.”
I knew GenTech’s hiring of Julia had skyrocketed their share price, but I hadn’t realized how much leverage that had given her.
“O-kay, so why are you doing this, Jules?”
Julia gave me a long stare; it seemed she was weighing something.
“Mankind is either on the brink of its next evolutionary step, or extinction. I’m afraid we are headed for extinction, so I’m trying to give evolution ...a helpful nudge.”
“Eight years ago you wanted nothing to do with the workings of the world; you were all about the ... theory of pure knowledge, um what's it called?”
“Epistemology.”
“That’s it, and the way knowledge was acquired. It was why MASG jazzed you up. When did you...” I had never pulled punches with Julia, and wasn't going to start now, “...develop this god complex?”
Julia smiled. I'm guessing she's never found anyone else who was as honest with her; maybe it’s one of the reasons we liked each other so much.
“There’s a global train wreck happening, but who will stop it? We’ve seen the typical male responses to the climate crisis, and we cannot afford that here.”
“Global train wreck?”
“A genetic development with cataclysmic implications for the human race.”
That confused me; Julia mentioned genetic, so she wasn’t taking about global warming, right? And anyway, Al Gore was all over that. So what other world crisis was she referring to? I shook my head; saving the planet was not my worry.
“Okay, let's say you're right about this …thing coming; how much of a difference can your new agey social experiment make?”
“New age?” Julia laughed. “Honey, this template ain’t new; in ancient times, the Amazons offered a sanctuary for strong, independent women. That’s what I’m aiming for here.”
I debated gender issues with Julia for countless hours during the first MASG tests. I didn’t disagree with her positions, but goading the woman was fun sport.
“So, to summarize, you’re using the biogenetics group as a platform to empower woman to,” I put my little fingertip to the side of my mouth, “take over the world?”
Julia snorted, but Deirdre turned red.
“I knew she’d be incapable of understanding,” Deirdre said. “Her dossier was accurate; she lacks maturity.”
“I was kidding! I didn’t really … wait, dossier? I have a dossier?”
This was news; when had I merited something like that? Was I moving up in the world?
“Look around, Ms. Edwards, you've entered a complex that is the bleeding edge of genetics research, that is itself a singular experiment. Do you think we let anyone waltz in?”
Something occurred to me. “Wait? You think I’ll ruin the Building A experiment?”
“No, I won't let you screw it up.” Deirdre flipped her black hair to one side, and leaned over me. “Consider yourself quarantined; outside of the MASG group, everyone in A has been ordered to avoid you.”
“Back off.” My fists were clenching; Deirdre giggled in response.
“You want to take me on? In your tiny body? That’s so cute.” She ran her fingers through my hair, “I could toss you over my knee and spank you, and you couldn’t do a thing about it, except cry. In fact, I’d enjoy that.”
I shot a look at Julia. “I don't care crap about science; I’m doing this as a favor for you. I did NOT sign up for public humiliation. As my friend you’re supposed to watch out for me.”
“Stand DOWN, Rogers. I'm taking Syd on from here. Meet me back in the lab; I want a word with you.”
“Fine,” Deirdre said. “Just remember, I’ve warned you.”
“Shoo, go somewhere and pull wings off flies,” Julia said. “that seems to be the kind of funk you’re in.”
Julia led me to the A elevator banks and we left the fuming woman behind.
“Syd, when we reach your room, you’re going to want to crash hard. The body hits a massive low within an hour of conversion; it's like jet lag on steroids. So get plenty of rest. In the meantime, I'll have a talk with Deirdre about attitude adjustment.”
“If you would, that would be great. I don’t want to be crossing swords with her the whole time I’m here,” Then I yawned. “Oh yeah, I could use some zzzs”
“I’m meeting you for breakfast at 6:15 am and testing begins tomorrow at 7:00 am sharp, so don’t be late!”
I yawned again in response.
“And Sydney?”
“Mmm?”
“Sweet dreams, hun.”
“Yes, mama.”
MONDAY, 8:05 P.M., GENTECH SUITE D 114
I could barely stand, and the temptation was to jump straight into bed and not move for an eon. Through sheer power of will, I forced myself to stay awake, and learn the layout of my temporary home. I walked through the living area to the kitchen, and opened drawers and cabinets. Good; it was fully stocked.
Next, I went to the bedroom, where I found my suitcases stowed in the closet. The call of the king-sized bed and white fluffy comforter was like a siren, but I resisted; this was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and I was going to do it right.
I traded my oh-so-lovely hospital gown for a white terrycloth robe, grabbed my toiletry bag, and headed to the bathroom. The door closed, the robe fell, and I took a long look in the mirror.
I started with my hair; golden and soft, it had a messy shag look, with layers of curls. Leaning into the mirror, I confirmed my eyes were still green, maybe more vibrant than I remembered, though. Giggling, I blew a kiss.
Next, I cupped my breasts; the computer modeling they’d sent me of my projected measurements listed them as 36C. Glad they weren’t bigger, they seemed huge. Huge, soft and…
I massaged them, and scraped my fingernails across my nipples. Wow! The pleasure shiver that spread through me made me gulp. What was it Steve Martin said in L.A. Story? That he couldn't be a woman because he’d play with his breasts all day?
“This is gonna be fun.”
My hands itched to travel lower, so I turned my gaze to my new ‘plumbing’. I’d done my homework before coming to GenTech, and gave myself a pop quiz. Below a small mass of blondish hair, I named the clitoral hood, clitoris, labia and vagina.
“Hooray! Gold star for me!” I planned to reward myself with further exploration when I got in bed.
After I washed my face and brushed my teeth, I went back to my bedroom to my suitcase. I fished around in it, pulling out a red piece of clothing. I glanced around with what must have been a guilty look on my face. I couldn't help it! The encounter with Deirdre had shaken me; the fact that someone was studying my 'dossier' left me feeling paranoid. What else was being done to monitor me?
Then I gave a headshake. “Rogers be damned, I’m going to taste, smell and feel all this body can offer.”
The silk chemise slithered on. I ran back to the bathroom to see the show. My hands smoothed down the slick material, and I turned sideways, to look at my smooth thighs and butt dimple showing through the high-cut side slits. When I turned back to face the mirror, I put a hand on a hip.
“Whistle if you want me, Deirdre,” I growled. “You know how to whistle, don't you? You just put your lips together and blow.”
I held the pose for about two seconds before I started giggling; I definitely needed to work on my Bacall thing.
I scampered back to my bed where I slid between the sheets. After some long moans and a few back arching ‘ohmygods,’ I finally did fall asleep.
TUESDAY 6:15 A.M., Gentech BUILDING G, ‘GENTECH EATS HEALTHY’ FOOD CAFE
“Sydney, you’re lovely!”
“You like?” I spun around before sitting down at Julia’s table. I was wearing a white silk blouse, acid wash jeans, and rust colored loafers.
Julia's head bobbed emphatically; When her eyes squinted, I guessed she was picking up that I’d even applied a little powder, lip-gloss, and eyeliner.
“You don’t do half-ass, do you? How long did you say you’ve been getting ready for this week?”
I slapped my butt. “Nothing ‘half’ about this new ass. I’ve been getting ready since the moment you sent my projected measurements; clothes, shoes, cosmetics, everything. Don’t worry, all unscented and hypoallergenic. Nothing to clog the old olfactory bulb.”
“I’m thrilled you’re exploring this opportunity, Syd. Now, before we order, what’s the time?”
I looked at the wall clock. “A little after-”
“-Sydney! What time is it!”
“Oh. That.” The changing back into a pumpkin countdown. I held up my wrist. “77 hours, and 48 minutes.”
“It’s easy to get caught up in new experiences, you more than most, but don’t lose track of this.”
“Of course, mama.”
“You’re going to keep calling me that, aren’t you,” Julia laughed, and picked up a menu. “Since I’m the one that ‘birthed’ the beautiful girl you are, I am kind of your mom. So show mama some respect, daughter. Okay, lecture over. What do you want?”
I had already looked at my menu and closed it. “A banana berry protein shake, and a shot of wheatgrass on the side.”
Julia frowned. “That’s light even in your new body. As I remember, you liked giganto breakfasts, eggs, bacon, pancakes, hash browns…”
I shook my head. “A smoothie is hard to screw up.”
“The food here is not bad, their ‘Poached Huevos Rancheros’ is popular, I’m told,” Julia said, as she motioned for a waiter. “They use eggs from free range hens and fresh cilantro and-”
“-Thanks, no.”
“Not impressed with our spectacular café? Spill, child, what’s wrong?”
“You mean other than its hideous name?”
“Um-hm. Enlighten me.”
“Sure. First, the menu’s impressive, too much so, in fact, offering an array of selections; dishes from Jamaica, Korea, California, Hawaii, Thailand, Mexico, Japan, Italy. What are the chances of a cook being proficient in all those styles?”
“Okay, trying to do too much; valid point. What else?”
“You mentioned the Huevos Rancheros? That poor schmuck ordered it…” I pointed to a woman seated far across the dining room, “…and from the smell, it should be renamed, I don’t know, ‘a bushel of cilantro with a side of eggs.’ The chef completely lacks subtlety.”
“You can tell from this distance?”
“Oh yeah; my senses have really sharpened since my ‘conversion.’ I can tell you what’s on the grill right now — blueberry pancakes.”
They had sharpened amazingly. Imagine the first time you try put on prescription glasses and you see the world in the clearest detail. Now translate that to smell. That is what I’ve experienced since I stepped out of the stasis chamber.
Julia looked to the kitchen; it was in a completely separate room and the door was closed.
“You’re amazing. So how would you run it?”
After I launched into a five minute dissertation on how I how would manage the café, I noticed a kind of lop-sided grin had plastered itself on Julia’s face.
“What? What are you smiling about?”
“About how darling you look.” Julia leaned in again. “We’ve done seven full DNA transformations so far, two of which were gender reversals, and my team treats it as business as usual. They’ve moved on to more ...exotic challenges. But it’s still a mind-blowing miracle. I know this is a stupid question, but does it feel …weird? You’re the first transformee I've been close to, and I’m dying to ask.”
“Weird? Yes and no. Mostly it’s all strange and new, the sensations I’m feeling. Yet …there have been moments when my mind is preoccupied, and I feel this is normal, where …for a moment …I forget it’s even happened. Does that make sense?”
Julia nodded. “You look very natural like this, Syd...”
Then she followed it up with the ever cryptic, “…interesting.”
TUESDAY 7 A.M., GENTECH Building A, MASG LAB ROOM 313
“Here she is folks, the prettiest lab rat you’ll ever meet.”
Julia introduced me to the group of white lab coated women gathered in the room. In addition to Deirdre, I met white-haired Dr. Alcina Thompson, the Korean researchers Kim Jin and Park Ji, and Amanda Benedict, a red-haired grad assistant.
“I hate to dump you and run, Syd, but I'm needed in the GAP lab, stat. I’ll circle back this afternoon and we’ll have dinner together tonight. I'm leaving you in Dr. Roger's care, who I'm certain will be filled with nothing but sweetness and light.”
Deirdre gave a pained grimace, adjusted her glasses, and said nothing. Great, I’ll be battling her my entire stay.
“I'm putting my trust in you, ‘daughter,’ be good.” Julia gave me a quick kiss on my head, and left.
“No way were you a man, no way,” Amanda said, grabbing my hand. “I can’t imagine what it’s like. And what was it like in the á¼ber secret GAP lab; other than Dr. Rogers, no one here has seen it. Was it too cool? Hey! Can I get you a coffee before we plug you into the ‘helmet’? Do need a pee break or anything?”
Amanda’s stream of consciousness barrage overwhelmed me; I guessed the red head was the good humored ‘let’s everyone get along’ member of the team. Heh! Time for some fun. I lowered my voice.
“Well, now that you mention it, I’ve …been scared to …you know …pee …because I’ve never done it without a …penis …so could you maybe …show me how to?”
“Oh sweetie! Have you been holding it in all this time? Let me take you to the-”
“-Amanda! Don’t be thick,” Deirdre said. “She’s joking, obviously; don't believe half of what Sydney says. She's incapable of mature thought.”
“Hey! It could have been true, it’s not like anyone gave me a manual or anything.” I patted the hand of the now red-faced grad student. “And you were being so nice. Now you’ll probably go spit in my coffee.”
“What a great idea-”
“-Enough!” Deirdre could restrain her annoyance no longer. “GenTech did not agree to use its most expensive and secret treatment on you so you could chit chat about peeing. Get in the chair and let’s get going.”
“So much for sweetness and light,” Then I gave a Hitler salute. “Ya vole mein Doktor.”
Soon I was seated, with sensors stuck to my forehead. “This was the stuff we used years ago; there’s gotta be more advanced equipment.”
“Of course, but we have to recreate the conditions of the original MASG tests, so, on with the Frankenstein headgear,” Deirdre said. “We’ll be videoing and monitoring your vitals as well, just like Julia did the first time.”
“Got it. And I’ll try to act like I did for the old tests, at least as much as I remember. Come to think of it, I didn’t shave my face during the first testing phase, so I won’t now either.”
“Sydney, you don’t need to shave your face now because you’re a-”
Score!
Deirdre saw my smirk. “Stop, dammit, just stop! That's not even vaguely humorous. Do you remember how your first tests started?”
“It's been a while, but didn’t we set a baseline?”
Deirdre nodded. “Before you can begin profiling, we’ll have you place the 32 standard test odors into one of eight primary odor categories. Dr. Thompson will lead you through this.”
The elderly woman wheeled a tray of tiny glass vials next to me.
“I’m so excited to be working with you, Ms. Edwards; Dr. Carter has told me how miraculous your senses are. Now, as you may remember, the eight primary odor categories are camphorous, fishy, malty, minty, musky, spermous, sweaty, and urinous.”
“Fishy? Urinous?” I rolled my eyes. “I’d forgotten how sexy this work was.”
Alcina smiled, and held the first vial to my nose. “How do you categorize this?”
“Stinky.”
“Young lady, that is NOT one of the categories-”
“She’s joking, Alcina,” Deirdre said. “Sydney! On task!”
I cocked my head. “The journey of a thousand odors begins with a single sniff.”
“Syd-NEY!”
Deirdre stormed over; for a moment, I thought she might cold-cock me.
“Dr. Thompson has B.S. and M.S. degrees in Botany, PhDs in Microbiology and Genetics, and is enormously respected by her peers. She was one of the pioneers who smashed through the glass ceiling imposed on women by male researchers. Do you intend to treat her -or our other equally qualified scientists- flippantly the entire test period? I warned Julia you would do this.”
“No ...I was only...” I wished she had slapped me; now I felt stupid and immature. “I'll try not to … to ...screw around anymore, okay? I really did mean to be serious.”
When Deirdre took my face in her hands, I blinked at her in surprise.
“Not good enough. Swear to me you will focus, that you'll work with us.”
I sighed. “Deal. I’ll cooperate. Fully. No more joking.”
“No, more than that. Promise me ...” Deirdre voice became a breathy whisper, so that only I heard her. “…you’ll be my good girl, and do …everything I say.”
Christ! I didn’t know what to make of that; someone’s personal fantasy leaking through?
“Uh, look, I said I'd cooperate, that's the best I can do, okay?”
“We'll see about that,” Deirdre said, giving my cheek a playful slap. It took me a moment to realize I blushed in response. What the hell is wrong with me? I shook my head and turned to Alcina.
“Sorry, Dr. Thompson, would you please give me that scent again?”
“Quite all right, dear.” Alcina held the vial to my nose.
“It’s camphorous, ma'am.”
“Good. Call me Alcina. And this?”
“Musky.”
“And this?”
As the testing continued, I noticed Deirdre watching me a half-crooked smile. It looked …lecherous.
TUESDAY 4:00 P.M., GENTECH BUILDING A, BIOGENETICS LAB ROOM 313
“These next tests will focus on stimulus intensity,” Deirdre asked me. “You’ll need to stay blindfolded. Do you need a refresher on the LM scale?”
“No, I’m good, ‘barely detectable’ is just above 0, and ‘strongest imaginable’ is 100.”
“You’ve been sniffing non-stop for hours,” Amanda chirped, from her lab station where she'd been inputting some of the day's data. “Need some fresh air or a natural break?”
I was bleary and starting to feel sensory deprived; I’d been blindfolded for nearly all the tests. I didn’t want to stop, though, after Deirdre’s dressing down this morning, I wanted to prove to her I could be responsible.
“Thanks, no,” I shook my head. “We were on a shoe string budget during the old MASG tests, and had to do it all at once, so let’s press on.”
I wasn’t so tired that I didn’t recognize the new scent entering the room.
“Mmm cinnamon. Is Julia here?”
“That’s amazing; yes she's just arrived,” Deirdre said. “Julia smells like cinnamon?”
I raised my blindfold and blinked at the light. “Not actual cinnamon, I …okay ... confession time…”
I lowered my voice so only she would hear. Why I was spilling this secret to her, I hadn’t a clue.
“You’ve heard people use the phrase ‘passing the smell test?’ Well, since I can remember, I can tell by someone’s scent whether I like them. And, for people I really like, I mentally assign a pleasant smell. Julia is cinnamon. When I deeply dislike someone, I assign them other scents, like stinky socks or rotten eggs, or…well, you get the idea.”
"Alcina. How does she register to you?"
I smiled. "Brandied cherries."
“I'm afraid to ask what I smell like.”
“I’d rather not tell you.”
“I see...” For a second, her eyes showed hurt, then they hardened.
“No, you don’t. It’s the opposite of what you think.”
“I’m a big girl.” She cocked an eyebrow. “Tell me how your ‘personality smell-o-meter’ reads me.”
“Roses” I mumbled. I didn’t know what that hell that implied, but she undeniably did. “I’m sorry if this offends you or-”
“-Shhh.” Deirdre eyes were bright again; she put a finger to my lips. “No harm, no foul. You have a most discerning nose.”
“Um, thanks,” I said. Why I was suddenly shy?
“So how’s our new gal doing?” Julia said, giving me a smile as she joined us; I could tell something was wrong, though.
“Great, better than expected,” Deirdre said
“How so?” Julia cocked her head.
“We feared Sydney would be disruptive...”
“Yes,” Julia nodded, “But I built in extra time to account for the delays I thought she’d cause. Has she exceeded the cushion already?”
They’d built in extra time because I was frivolous? God, how shallow did they think I was? And ...were they right?
Deirdre shook her head. “After a few cracks this morning, she became intense, focused. Perhaps she’s matured since she interned with you.”
“No,” Julia said, “yesterday when I picked Syd up, he was more bombastic than ever.”
“In case you don’t realize it, this is me, sitting right here. Don’t talk like I’m not, okay?”
But of course, they did.
“If anything, she’s been …hmm, demur.”
The way Deirdre said that, it sounded nasty. But in a good way.
Julia barked a laugh. “Never thought I’d see the day when that word described you, Syd. Any problems from your gender switch?”
“Surprisingly few,” Deirdre answered for me again, since I was incapable, apparently. “She’s said ‘this is so weird’ several dozen times, but I can tell she’s enjoying her temporary skin. Aren’t you sweetie?”
She pinched my cheek and I felt myself blush. I was, in fact, enjoying myself immensely, discovering the differences, and similarities, between this body and my old one.
“Remarkable. Is it possible you’re better as a woman? What a study that would be.”
“I wouldn't mind conducting that experiment,” Deirdre murmured.
I really must be getting tired; everything Deirdre said was sounding like sexual innuendo.
“Er …how is she doing on the MASG testing?” Julia asked.
“Fantastic!” Deirdre's face lit up. “Sydney’s previous sense and smell tests were amazing, but as a woman? Off the charts! I’ve snuck a peek at some of the old ‘Sidney as male’ test data to compare -I know, mustn’t draw conclusions- but her increased hypersensitivity must also indicate an increase in scent sensitive neurons…”
Julia bit a lip in what I guessed was an attempt to hold back a laugh.
“…which could be linked to high estrogen levels. Her ...her …physiological and behavioral responses are measurably …no, markedly, different! At first I thought the 8 year time lag between the MASG tests was problematic, but now I'm thinking it validates, because ‘she’ can't remember her responses as a ‘he’.”
“Julia!” Deirdre was dancing around so much she looked like she needed to pee. “It’s inescapable that the genetic responses generated by sensory reactions play a HUGE role in human behavior on a moment to moment basis. This is exactly the direction we need to go to understand the effect of the genetic changes we are contemplating with Project Y...”
Deirdre sighed when she finally noticed ‘cat-that-ate-the canary’ grin Julia was wearing. “Okay, let me have my well earned 'I told you so.'”
“None coming,” Julia said. “I'm glad you've come around to MASG's importance. Ironically, now that you are engaged, I'm going to pull you away for a bit. Styles has called a meeting with me, and he is insisting on having it here.”
“No! Absolutely not, there’s no way we’re-”
“-He’s informed me that two serious assaults have been reported at GenTech over the last twenty-four hours, and —for our safety- he's insisting to be allowed into Building A to warn the residents.”
“And just like that, you’ll let him in, and jeopardize everything? We can’t trust him!”
“I didn’t say I’d let him in; I was simply letting my second in command know everything he’d told me. I’m meeting him in the small breakout room in our lobby. I won’t let him put a toe in here.”
“That’s a relief; since you were willing to so easily give the keys to the castle to Sydney, I wasn’t sure how far you'd go.”
Deirdre was officially back in bitch mode. Fabulous.
“-Dammit, let this thing go,” Julia said. “I trust her! That should be good enough for you! You just said she’s performed well and-”
“-You’re right, sorry, I’ll let it drop. So what trumped up excuse has Styles fabricated to weasel in?”
“Rapes. Two of them. Lauren yesterday afternoon, Kara last night.”
“Oh God no,” Deirdre said. “Weston from the genetic disorders group and your Kara from GAP?”
“Mm-hm. While I’m meeting with Styles, I want you to go to them. Help them. Find out anything you can about-”
“-who the bastard was that did this, and how we can cut off his balls.”
“There’s no disagreement between us on this one, dear. Sydney, your testing is over for the day. I want you to come with me.”
“She already knows too much! Are you insane? ” Deirdre's voice was by turns loud, then pin drop quiet. “...are you?”
Was she?
A far more dangerous drama than I could have possibly imagined was unfolding at Gentech, and I wondered, with the industrial espionage at work, the ominous 'global crisis’ Julia alluded to, and now these horrible rapes, could my old friend be cracking under the strain?
I didn’t doubt my test results would be valuable to Julia and her team, but at the end of the day, it was still just a freakish skill. Maybe Julia needed me for a more fundamental purpose. Maybe with the world's weight on her shoulders, the world's premier geneticist needed, every now and again, to have someone she could lean on? I wonder if something as basic as friendship could keep her from crossing that thin boundary between genius and insanity? I was willing to try.
I faced Deirdre. “You don’t trust me, I know this. I bet my ‘dossier’ tells a tale of one who flits from job to job, never committing to anything. But Julia needs me; I swear to you, I will keep my mouth shut and mind on task.”
I’m not sure which of them looked more surprised, but the tension drained out of Julia’s face and her eyes turned wet.
“Thank you, sweetie.”
“This is so not a good idea,” Deirdre said, but the conviction had evaporated from her voice.
“Probably not, but it’s going to happen,” Julia said. “Go care for Lauren and Kara; they’ll need serious counseling; the sooner the better. And get the details of what happened to them; initial reports are they’re suffering from memory loss. I need you with me on this, Deirdre.”
A stricken look crossed Deirdre’s face. “I am your most loyal follower.”
“-Sorry; I know you are. But these rapes on top of everything else… someone’s tightening the screws on us …”
Just as suddenly, Julia looked lost again, and on impulse I grabbed her hand. Deirdre had the same thought because she took the other. Julia smiled at us when she realized what had happened.
“I need both of you right now. It would be great if you could get along, but if that’s not possible, can you agree not to kill each other? For me?”
I nodded, and then noticed Deirdre was staring at me. If I read her eyes right, I gathered she saw me as something more than an callous annoyance to be suffered. That I might not be completely worthless.
I prayed she was right.
TUESDAY 4:20 P.M., GENTECH BUILDING A LOBBY, ‘BREAK-OUT’ ROOM
GenTech’s security chief was easy to spot when he entered our conference room; he fit most of the Hollywood clichés, black suit, military short brown hair. If he’d sported the MIB sunglasses, then the stereotype would have been complete.
He wore Ralph Lauren’s Polo Blue cologne, -I’d worked a year and a half in Paris as a perfumer for L’Oreal several years ago, and still recognized the majority of the crappy scents for men- but as for the smell the cologne was masking, well…
He was followed by two beefy dark-suited men that had ‘subordinate’ written all over them. They were wearing sunglasses. The security chief’s gray eyes scanned me longer that I thought was necessary.
“Dr. Carter, I don’t believe I’ve met your young associate.”
“This is ...Cindy Johnson, my temporary personal assistant.”
Hmm. From lab rat to gopher; was I moving down or up in the animal kingdom?
He held an open hand to me. “I’m Richard Styles, GenTech’s chief security officer. Pleased to meet you.”
I nodded and shook it. He turned his attention back to Julia.
“The information I must discuss is highly confidential, Dr. Carter. If I may suggest you ask Ms. Johnson to wait in the lobby while we-”
“-Ms. Johnson will remain with me. As I’ve told you previously, I will not attend a meeting with you without at least one witness present.”
“Can I assume Ms. Johnson has signed a non-disclosure agreement with GenTech?”
“You can assume anything you like.” Julia was practically hissing.
“Cooperative as always. Dr. Carter, your refusal to allow law enforcement officials into Building A is unacceptable. I want you to understand that obstruction of justice is a criminal offense, punishable by fine, or imprisonment, or both.”
So far, if an outside observer were watching this? They would have seen a man talking in a measured tone, and a woman who’s voice was shrill and eyes were darting. In other words, they’d conclude he was being reasonable and she suspect.
I was perceiving something far different - Styles reeked of rotten slimy fish.
No, not literally; cologne aside, if I were back down in the lab, I'd say he had a musty smell, LM 32. But on my -what had Deirdre called it? my personality smell-o-meter?- he was deep in the bad zone.
Julia’s scent, on the other hand remained of clean honest spice.
I intended to keep my mouth shut -I did!- but when had that plan ever worked for me? He'd gotten Julia on her back foot; maybe I could help her rally? I cleared my throat.
“Care to start over, Dick? Instead of accusing Dr. Carter of hypothetical crimes, maybe you should start with real ones first? Call me crazy, but how about -oh, I don't know- an update on how the rape victims are doing, and how the authorities, with the assistance of your crack department, are going to catch the bastard who did this?”
For an instant, Styles' ice facade cracked and he glared daggers at me. Then his expression went neutral again and turned back to Julia.
“Both of the alleged victims were from Building A. There may be others who have not reported being assaulted. It is possible that you, or Dr. Rogers, have been covering this up in an effort to prevent entrance into A. If the police want in as part of their investigation, you can’t stop them. I will encourage them to want in.”
“My assistant is correct; why would you start our meeting by threatening me, rather than telling us what happened?” Julia said; purpose replacing her uncertainty. “Perhaps, Syd's ...er ...Cindy's words were too complex for you; I’ll start with a question so simple even you can understand. Were Lauren or Kara hurt?”
“Spare me your false concern. The so-called victims told us nothing; as per your instructions, I’m sure.”
What happened next surprised everyone; Julia's hand whipped out and across Style's face with a loud satisfying smack.
“Feel better? You’ve just given me more of an injury than either 'victim' sustained. From the way they described their attacks, it was like both women wanted this to happen. In any event, the game is almost up, Doctor. Any more Building A rape victims, and even the idiot cops will follow the bread crumbs into A. They’ll be coming in, and I’ll be with them. I so want to throw open these doors and show the shareholders how you’ve pissed away billions of their precious dollars. I’m on to your game. I know how you periodically dole out new products to keep prying eyes from seeing what really goes on in A.”
“I squander shareholder funds? Last I checked, products from my research have increased GenTech’s profitability by 40%. Share price is at an all time high. I’d hardly call that pissing away.”
Styles stood, and motioned to his agents that it was time to leave. “See you on the inside very soon.” He started to leave, then stopped, and turned to me. “There is a rapist on the loose, Ms. Johnson. A woman like you ought to be ...careful.”
After they left, I blinked at Julia.
“A …woman like me? What’d he mean by that?”
“You still think of yourself in terms of your male self-image, I suspect. But at this moment, you are a young and very attractive female, Syd. Keep that in mind.” Then she gave me a long look. “You’re starting to have real doubts about my stability, right about now, I expect.”
I was worried about her, but Styles was a different matter. I shook my head. “I don't trust that man's scent. He’s a toad.”
“Seriously? You can judge someone's character by scent? That's interesting.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I've always had the knack, but in this body, it’s way clearer, and ...that man's pond scum.”
Julia barked a laugh.
“No, I'm serious.”
“I'm not doubting you. I'm surrounded by brilliant scientists, yet I never get such an honest assessment. Except maybe from Astra.”
I wrinkled my eyebrows. “Astra?”
“You'll meet her soon enough; Lord help us all when you two get together. There was some truth in what he was saying, about how loose I play with my fat research budget. I have been trickling out inventions, giving the company just enough to leave me alone.”
“How so?”
Julia ran a hand through pepper gray hair as she composed her thoughts.
“My first release was genetically engineered rice, produced by recombinant DNA technology. It contained rich amounts of pro-vitamin A, beta-carotene and iron, and is a godsend for third world countries.”
“That sounds fantastic!” And just the kind of world improving product I'd expect from her.
“It is. But it did not, however, contribute to GenTech's bottom line. I soon felt the heat from the CEO, and learned altruism didn't sell.”
“Oh. God, I guess I'm naive.”
“I was too. We tried again. This time my team developed a kit to be used by cosmetic store representatives, which would instantly determine a person's genetic skin characteristics and recommend specific products based on the results.”
“Well, it's not hunger relieving like your first product, but it still is beneficial, and it sounds more marketable.”
“Oh, it was, but it did not produce significant profits. So I sent my team back to the drawing board. This time, they came up with ‘Geneta Anti-cellulite Crá¨me’, or GAK as its huge fan based dubbed it. Through integrated nano-technology, the nanites in the crá¨me deliver an extract that activates the metabolism of the fat cells. And ...it worked! It actually breaks down cellulite.”
“A …fat melter?” Okay, I saw where this was headed. “I'm guessing it was a hit?”
“Grand slam home run. You gotta love America. The FDA verified it, and GAK sales exploded through the roof. So GenTech’s CEO was a happy camper this fiscal year, and I was free to follow my real work without prying eyes. Until our encounter with Mr Styles.”
Julia picked up her cell and punched a button.
“Deirdre? Yeah, the wolves have been turned away, but not for long. Call an emergency committee meeting in the big conference room STAT. We are under siege.”
I waited until she clicked off her phone, but I had to ask her.
“Julia, what is your real work?”
“Saving the world, Syd, saving humanity.”
End Part 1
***
Fragrance,
by Armond
Smell is surer than sight or sound. - Kipling
Author's note: for a cleaner pdf version of this story, please click here
Part 2
TUESDAY 5:00 P.M., GENTECH BUILDING 'A' BASEMENT, CONFERENCE ROOM 1 ENTRANCE
Gentech's barf green hallway carpet was getting a good workout from my nervous feet; where do companies get this stuff, anyway?
Julia asked me to 'wait here,' while she cleared me to attend her emergency conclave of mad female scientist. Full disclosure: she actually called it her Operating Committee, but since I hated pacing around while a bunch of people I didn't know chitchatted about me, I'm free to label them as I please.
Didn't sound like the 'clearing' was going smoothly; there was a lot of shouting, and not in the happy way. I definitely didn't hear any 'hip hip hoorays.'
Also, I scented fear wafting from the room. Does fear have a scent? Opinions vary; some scientists say what is 'sensed' by animals is 'fear' body language rather than a smell, while others claim the body emits an 'alarm pheromone.' All I can tell you is, in my old Sidney body, I could smell panic in others if the situation was extreme -I hated flying because of this- but as a woman, I was picking things up much clearer. Serious angst was happening inside that room.
Finally, the door opened, and Julia stepped out. I couldn't read her face; she had a smile going on, but it was twisted a bit.
“Look, if me attending is going to upset the cosmic balance, I'm happy to go to my room and knock back some wine before our dinner.”
“No, it's okay, I-” Julia stopped mid-sentence and gave me the oddest look. “Sydney, you would never betray me would you?”
Betray her? What was she talking about? Why the hell would I ever do that?
She brushed my cheek with her hand. “Your expression says it all; betrayal isn't in your psyche. I'm sorry I asked.”
“What's going on here Julia? I smell big time fear. Is it these rapes, or-”
“-You can smell fear? Amazing.” She looked at me with her scientist eyes, the kind she wore when she peered into her microscope at amoebas. “Yes, rapes are the worst crime that can be inflicted on a woman, and these appear to target us. The deeper fear you sensed, however, has to do with Project Y being exposed. That was the major push back to you coming in this meeting.”
“I bet Deirdre was leading the charge.”
Julia nodded. “She did object, but she also told the committee that after working with you today, she felt you could be trusted.”
I didn't expect that from the egg head/drop dead gorgeous/ second in command of whatever. Maybe I'd fallen off her, 'people I'd like to see burning in hell' list.
“Project …Y? I thought GAP was the big deal here. I swear, Julia, you scientists with your damned acronyms! I'm going to write 'em all down on a bingo card, and then, if I hear 'MASG,' 'GAP,' and 'Y in a meeting, I'll shout 'Bingo!”
“Don't make any jokes in this meeting, Syd. You're about to learn that Project Y is the most critical issue happening on our planet,” Julia said. Then her voice turned soft. “Our situation is complicated by the fact that, several months ago, I underwent a psychiatric evaluation, and was diagnosed as borderline schizophrenic. What I told the committee was-”
“-Wait!” I grabbed her arm. “Julia! Don't kid about something like this!”
“Calm down, sweetie, my condition is still in the early stages, and several treatment options exist, including a gene therapy treatment idea I've been kicking around. However, with the unalterable Y deadlines we face, drugs, therapy or a sabbatical are not options. I told the committee I need you with me for support, because you are the nearest thing on Earth I have to family. This is dumping a lot on your shoulders, but you ground me in a way no one else can. I need you, Syd, here and now.”
My eyes grew hot. “You feel that way?”
“No, more than that…” Julia held my face in her hands, “you are my family.”
Emotions flooded me - stronger than anything I'd felt in my old body- and I threw my arms around her. She hugged me tight right back.
“I knew you felt the same way.” She let out a big sigh.
A thought popped in my head. “Why all this worry about betrayal? What gone down here to cause this paranoia?”
“We've been infiltrated by three spies we know of. Deirdre became our ad hoc security chief to monitor threats.”
I'd heard industrial espionage was a real problem in the biotech industry, but actual cloak and dagger spies? Wow! “So these spies are in jail now?”
“Mmmmmm …no. They learned too much about Y, and so …we dealt with them.”
“Julia!” I whispered. “You didn't …kill them, did you?”
“Sydney! Such a male way of thinking! We believe in the sanctity of life here; it's what Y is all about. Let's just say they won't be talking to anyone for a while.”
“So …you have them locked up somewhere?”
“You could say that. Enough. Everyone is waiting. We need to address these awful rapes and then get a Project Y status download. Syd, you'll be hit with a crush of information -a lot of acronyms, as you say- so please behave, be brave, and no yelling bingo.”
“Yes, Mama.”
Her body tightened and her eyes turned wet. 'You know …I like it when you call me that, daughter.”
I smiled. “And I kind of like it when you call me that.”
She leaned over and kissed the top of my head. Then, taking my hand, she led me in.
'Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition.'
I almost blurted it out when I walked in, but I bit my tongue. Why? Because I'm a good girl. I hoped Deirdre noticed.
Twelve. I counted twelve women seated around the gleaming slate conference table, a few dressed in pantsuits, more wore lab coats, and all were glaring at the intruder in their inner sanctum.
Me.
These weren't just any women. On the trip down after our meeting with Styles, Julia gave me a briefing of who I would meet - the world's top female geneticists.
Intimidated? Moi? You bet your ass.
Julia cleared her throat. “With our little housekeeping matter out of the way, let's proceed: I've called this emergency meeting because of the gravity of the situation,” Julia said. “Two of our colleagues, our sisters, have been raped. Lauren Weston and Kara Morgan.”
A buzz saw of anger erupted from the group. Julia held a hand up for silence. “Dr. Rogers has investigated the incidents and has spoken to both. Deirdre, tell us what you've learned.”
Deirdre straightened her lab coat, did a quick primp of her Beckensale black hair, and somehow managed to look pissed, fierce and sexy all at once.
“The assaults happened last night; Lauren's at 8:30 near the pond and Kara's at 10:45, as she was returning to 'A' from the fitness center.”
Questions flew from around the table. “Why wasn't this reported earlier?” “Someone must have heard this happening.” “Were they hurt?”
Deirdre waved them quiet. “One at a time! First, Lauren and Kara suffered no physical injury, thank God, but emotionally? They're devastated. Two of our strong minded women have had their confidence ripped away…” As Deirdre's voice trailed off, she started clenching and unclenching her fists.
“But how? How did this happen?” asked the woman to the right of Julia; her GAP ID badge read Margie Treadway, Assistant Director. Margie was keen-eyed, with a plump face and wavy brown hair. “Did the assailant use a weapon to subdue them?”
“Rather than describe the incidents, let me show you. We have security camera footage of Kara's attack.
She clicked a button on a small remote she'd picked up, and a beam of light shot from the ceiling to the center of the table, quickly forming an image. This was a 3D holographic projector? Holy shit, these gals have all the cool toys.
The image was fuzzy, the lighting poor, and the distance far enough away to make the figures tiny, but I could figure out what was happening. I watched a female figure leave the fishbowl 'G' building; when she stopped, another figure, a man from the look of his body, approached her.
Something weird happened next. The woman dropped her gym bag, literally ripped off her t-shirt and sports bra, and dropped to her knees. Then she started lunging for the man's crotch. The man backed into some building shadows and out of site, and the woman followed, scrambling on her knees.
Deirdre pressed a button, and the image fast-forwarded, to show the man reappear from the shadows, straighten his pants and stride away. Deirdre forwarded again, and the woman emerged from the shadows, clearly disoriented. She barely managed to scoop up her top before she staggered out of camera view.
The room turned so quiet I could hear the hum of the overhead fluorescent lights. Deirdre broke the silence.
“Note the poor quality of the video feed. The fact the assailant is unidentifiable. Now look at a live shot from this camera.”
She clicked the remote again, and an image reappeared in the center of the table, showing people entering and leaving 'G' in late afternoon sunlight. Only this time, the figures were crisp HD quality.
“Obviously, someone knows we've tapped into the security system and is playing us, feeding us the images but altering them so we can't identify the assailant. I suspect it is Styles who's onto our tap, but, I have no proof.”
“Was Lauren's assault similar to what happened to Kara?”
Deirdre nodded. “Her attack happened exactly this way. They were drugged to be made compliant and …extremely willing.”
“What? Like a date rape drug?” asked a voice from across the table. In my elevator ride briefing, Julia told me about Sarah Martin, Gentech's General Counsel. The ebony skinned woman was immaculate in her blue pinstriped suit. She had the air of one who'd fought many battles but lost few.
“Far more powerful, as we just observed, and acting instantaneously,” Deirdre said. “Lauren and Kara became mindless slaves, or …'bitches in heat' might be a better description I'm just not sure. It's one reason they took so long to report it; they weren't sure what had happened.”
“Are you talking some kind of mind control?” I blurted; holding my tongue had never been a virtue of mine. In my defense, I was trying to wrap my brain around this, and Deirdre's references sounded both oblique and ripped from a bad Sci-fi novel.
“Yes, that is an apt description, they were stripped of their free will.” Deirdre nodded. “They remember having an uncontrollable sexual attraction to their male attacker, and did anything he asked. Anything. What's more frightening, is Kara is a lesbian.”
“Oh dear! Were they able to give the authorities a good description of the man?” Alcina asked. She sat to the right of Margie, and her wrinkled face had whitened.
Deirdre shook her head in anger. “They can't remember his face; somehow their memories are as fogged as the video.”
“Let me see if I've got this straight,” said Astra, the young woman sitting two chairs to my left. Julia had given me her ten-second background on the elevator ride as well. Astra had been a science prodigy, entering MIT at age 12. With numerous piercings and a salmon pink lab coat that matched her pony-tailed hair, Astra was the anti-scientist. Naturally, I like her instantly.
“This drug or agent turns a woman, any woman, into a mindless fuck slave?” Astra continued. “And her memory can be wiped so she doesn't remember the rapist? Could we be any more screwed? Um ...no pun intended.”
“As a matter of fact, yes, we could,” Julia answered. “Mr. Styles let me know these rapes are his ticket to getting his slimy ass into ‘A’. He believes the police will figure out they need to look around in here, and he plans to slither in with them. Like Deirdre, I believe he is linked to these attacks. How odd, how coincidental, that, at this exact moment in our efforts, someone armed with a highly sophisticated compound begins assaulting building 'A' women? Sarah, how do we stop Styles?”
“If the police show up with an executed search warrant, they will come in,” Sarah answered.
“Unacceptable,” Julia said. “You must prevent this.”
“I'll try for a preliminary injunction, and argue like hell for trade secret protection.” Sarah shook her head. “It’s weak; our legal position improves if we prevent more rapes from occurring.”
“No shit, Sherlock!” Astra said. “How are we supposed to do that?”
“Ladies, if I may be so bold ...we represent the greatest collection of female scientific minds on the planet,” Julia said. “We must determine what this 'mind control' substance is, and develop counter measures. So my fellow geniuses, what could trigger such a reaction?”
“Do you mean ...could this be a gene triggered response? Something like sex pheromones?” Margie titled her head. “Bad cologne ads aside, Julia, the power of 'pheromones' have been exaggerated; at best, male sex hormones may put a female slightly 'in the mood,' certainly nothing like this.”
I could feel the electricity charging thorough group's collective neurons. And when Julia started drumming her fingers and staring at the ceiling, I realized I was witnessing the Nobel winner in her infamous 'brainstorm' mode.
“Okay…here's a quick and dirty,” Julia said. “For grins, let's say someone did develop a pheromone that genetically triggers a primitive response in a woman's lizard brain-”
“-Lizard brain?” I had to ask. “Help your scientifically challenged lab rat here; neurobiology is so not my area.”
“The brainstem, to be precise, the lower part of the brain,” Julia said. “It's something we mammals share with, well, lizards. Very primal, controls responses like fight or flight.”
“Gotcha,” Made sense to me. “So this pheromone triggers, what, in the brainstem?”
“A mating instinct perhaps? So powerful, the urge overwhelms or by-passes the neocortex, and goes straight to the limbic brain,” Margie offered.
“Um, again, mere mortal here. Terminology, please?” I tried not to whine, but c'mon, throw me a bone!
“The neocortex is the thinking part of the brain, you know, the part you seldom exercise,” Julia said with a grin. I would so get her back for that later. “And the limbic is the emotional part. So if someone did produce a pheromone that tapped into our mating instinct, one so powerful it shut down our cognitive thought, our emotional brain would take over and we become …”
She paused to let the words sink in, to which Astra gave a disgusted grunt, “pliable, open to suggestion, and driven by a single purpose …to fuck.”
“Okay, good, we're getting somewhere; this fits what we viewed,” Deirdre said. “How would the pheromone be delivered? A spray, maybe?”
“Without knowing more, we couldn't say,” Julia answered. “Did the victims want sex with any male handy, or only the attacker? The man might be emitting a scent which draws a woman uniquely to him. Maybe he ingested something, and these amped sex pheromones are emitted through his sweat glands, creating a 'signature smell.'”
Signature smell? This sounded like something I should be aware of. “Who has the knowledge to develop something like this?”
“Well, some of us here do, theoretically, and a few others in 'A' could as well.”
“This gets worse and worse; we could be looking at a traitor,” Deirdre said. “Who else in this field could come up with such a substance?”
“Not many, a dozen? I'll make a list, and then we'll start cross-referencing to identify likely suspects.” Julia furrowed her brow. Then her jaw clinched. “Margie, suspend the GAP work for the time being. Have the team concentrate on mapping the gene that is activated by such a compound, and design a countermeasure to prevent it-”
“Julia! Without the compound itself, that's looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack,” Margie said. “No, actually, the odds would be better for finding the needle.”
Julia held up her hand. “I understand the enormity of the task, but we've got to do something to come up with a defense. Deirdre. What can we do to prevent more attacks?”
Deirdre's forehead furrowed. “For starters, we'll tell all 'A' residents to implement the buddy system; no one goes anywhere unless accompanied by another. Also, we can beef up camera surveillance for 'A'; we install our private perimeter cameras immediately, then feed them into to our existing internal monitoring system.”
“Make it happen,” Julia said. “Sarah, delay, delay, delay. Don't let the police, and Styles, in here.
After Sarah nodded, Julia looked at Astra.
“A Project Y update, if you please. Talk to me, Astra.” Julia's eyes looked desperate for good news. “Tell me you've found data proving we were wrong, that degenerative Y syndrome isn't widespread, or spreading rapidly, or-”
“-We are so fucked.” The Goth scientist apparently wasn't going to deliver the news Julia wanted to hear. “At first I couldn't replicate your findings when I tested the African samples, and I got excited. Then Beth and I suspected the new culture medium we were using was affecting the results. When we tweaked it, wham! degenerative Y appeared. It's everywhere, Julia.”
“And the infertility rate for Africa?” Deirdre asked.
“Confirmed. Doubling annually, same as everywhere else; we're up shit creek.”
“Dammit!” Julia slammed her fists on the conference room table. Then she sighed. “Can't fight the data.”
It finally dawned on me what they were talking about. “Are you saying humans, worldwide, are becoming infertile?”
“Yes, Syd, though the rates are so low now no one else has connected the dots, what our group has discovered is, on a species wide basis, the human Y chromosome is disappearing. We suspect a virus is the culprit, and at the current rate of infection, will cause the chromosome to vanish in, say, forty years? The window of opportunity to stop it, the tipping point, is right now though.”
“But …if the Y gene disappears then …does the male gender goes away too?”
“Exactly,” Julia answered. “No more males, no more babies. No more babies, game over; bye bye human race. Maybe the dolphins will do a better job of things with us gone.”
“Whoa, stop! Back up. I mean, my God! If we are looking at the extinction of the human species, why aren't you screaming this to the government or the UN or something?”
“I think I mentioned this yesterday, Syd, based on the typical patriarchal response we've seen to the Global Warming Crisis, it will be years, decades, before the governments of the world formulate a response. WE DON’T HAVE THAT KIND OF TIME!”
End of mankind? I couldn't believe what I'd landed in! I thought I was here for an amazing holiday; for smelling some stuff, I got to be a girl for a few days. Instead, I’d been dumped into an end-of-days drama.
“Sorry to be so melodramatic, Syd, but, neither will I sugarcoat it for you.” Julia turned back to Astra. “I guess it would be too much to hope we've had any luck identifying the virus causing this?”
Astra shook her head, causing her multiple earrings to flash in the light. “We're striking out here. On the bright side, at least Al Gore will be happy; in a couple of generations, we'll pretty much be left with geezers, so carbon emissions will drop waaaay down.”
Julia ignored the comment without a flinch; maybe years of suffering quips from me had made her immune. “I didn't want to do this so soon, but we're going to have to merge the GAP and MASG teams. If we are going to create a counter virus to shift the sex determining part of Y to another chromosome, each chromosome must be mapped so we know exactly what we're altering. I do not want to go down in history as the woman who ushered in a mutant zombie apocalypse.”
“You're merging GAP with MASG? Your 'turn a guy into a nose girl so she can smell things' project?” Astra asked. “Heh. Nose Girl. I like it.”
Nose Girl? When I dreamed of being a superhero as a kid, 'Nose Girl' wasn't how I saw it shaking out.
“God you're uncouth; you make her sound like a gigantic pair of nostrils,” Deirdre said, and then turned to me. “Don't listen to her; your nose isn't big at all, it's …pert and cute.”
“Cute?” Astra said. “Why, Ms. Spock, if I didn't know better, I'd say you let an emotion slip out.”
“Stop, you two,” Julia said. “Deirdre, make sure the teams are combined after Sydney's testing is complete. Astra, I want you to switch gears to explore ways for us to deliver a counter virus into the mass population.”
Julia stood. “Back to work, ladies. We are under attack, and, for humanity's sake, we cannot lose this fight. Meeting dismissed.”
I sat stunned and silent after everyone had left but Julia. Finally I whispered,
“You …you …really are trying to save humanity, Jules!”
“We are. Everyone in this room, in this building is. You are too. This is what my work is all about.”
She took my hand in hers and stroked it gently. “GAP is making amazing gene mapping discoveries on an almost daily basis, but we're still like kids playing with the fires of creation. And you know what happens when kids play with fire...”
Her eyes bore into me. “Get some rest before our dinner. I need you energetic and focused in your testing; I've always seen MASG as a critical puzzle piece to the Y problem. We need any and all information we can get. Understand ...Nose Girl?”
I nodded my head; I finally got it. The stakes were mind numbingly high, and this once, I could actually contribute something, I could make a difference. Still, though ...Nose Girl? There had to be a cooler name.
Wow! Am I that petty? Here they are, describing the potential end of humanity, and I'm worrying about my 'super' name.
I guess I am, because it really bothered me. Sure, I'd have my male body back in a couple of days, but how would that help? Instead of Nose Girl, I'd be, what? Nose Guy? The Smell Meister? Super Sniffer? Having an unglamorous super power sucked.
No, sorry, 'sucked' is the wrong metaphor for Nose Girl to use...
It stunk.
My first full day as a woman had been a roller coaster, and I had high hopes for some R&R before my dinner with Julia. After the meeting finished I shuffled to my room, to find Deirdre had beaten me there. She leaned against the hallway wall, with arms crossed, giving me her pissed off sexy look. Uh-oh.
“What do you want? I've been a 'good girl'. I haven't talked to a soul, so the hallowed Building ‘A’ experiment is safe.”
“You must stay in your room tonight. That's an order. Julia will join you here later for dinner.”
“What? No no no! You don't understand; I need fresh air! I want to get out, go to the gym, maybe, see what this body can do.”
“You are dense,” Deirdre said, pushing off from the wall and toward me. “You will stay in. Pop some popcorn, slip your red silk number back on, curl up on the couch, and watch Steel Magnolias; you can order it on demand. That ought to give you a good idea about what the hormones of your cute little temporary body are capable of.”
“You're joking, right? That's a recipe for insanity. Wait! You know about my chemise?”
“You don't get it! A day ago, you would have been a suspect, but in this cute body? You are a prime target.” Deirdre ran a hand through my hair. Prime...”
I pushed her hand away, and then shoved past her to my door.
“Point taken, you don’t want me here, but these Gestapo intimidation tactics border on hate.”
“I do NOT hate you, but if you are too stupid to appreciate the danger then-”
“-Good NIGHT Dr. Rogers,” I screamed, and slammed my door.
TUESDAY 7:20 P.M., GENTECH CAMPUS - WOODED WALKING PATH NEAR BUILDING B.
I chanted my new mantra as I strolled down the sidewalk:
Screw Deirdre Screw Deirdre Screw Deirdre
I had dreamed for months about the fun this switch would be, and I wasn't going to let her ruin it. Sure, the whole rape thing was horrible, but Deirdre over dramatized the danger to cow me into staying in my room. I may not have been Jet Li as a man, but I could take care of myself. And anyway, it wasn't like it was midnight and I was walking down some seedy ally. The sun was shining, and green grass and wide open spaces surrounded me.
The sun sat low on the horizon and a cool spring evening was settling in. GenTech wasn't far from the coast, and I loved breathing in the ocean-salty air, though I was the only one who could smell it this far inland. I hadn't changed from my jeans and blouse, but wore a green North Face windbreaker for warmth. Already stepping out seemed like a good move.
I jumped when I heard his voice.
“S'cuse me, Miss? Can you help me?”
A man appeared from a merging path; not tall, under six feet, brown wavy hair and goatee, he wore a navy blue Nike workout suit and running shoes.
“I'm trying to find building G, could you point me in the right direction?”
He had a sweaty smell, which wasn't surprising, from the way he was dressed, but he also had an odd minty odor…
“I'm a visitor here myself, but 'G' is…”
Something bothered me; I felt flush, though I didn't know why. There was so much about my body I didn't understand.
“Miss? Are you okay, Maybe can help you?”
Something was wrong with his smile. I took two steps back.
“No …no, I'm fine, I …uh…” Did I smell a spermous scent too? I … thinking was hard, because there was something I had to do …now.
“Maybe you want something? I have just the thing.”
I blinked. Was I looking at his …pants? Was I wanting what was in them?
I stopped breathing through my nose, switching to take air through my mouth. The world stabilized, and whatever hunger had attacked me dulled.
“Stay away.” I heard my voice rasp, and stumbled backwards off the path, onto the spring grass.
Something was horribly wrong here, and I had to get away. I managed to pick myself up and start staggering toward 'A'.
“Maybe I didn't take a big enough swig?” I heard him mutter behind me. “Let's see what a double dose does.”
I heard his shoes slap the sidewalk and then felt hands grabbing my arms. I struggled to pull away, but the strange odor was back, much stronger now, blowing away my resistance. The smell, I …couldn't think …I …”
“Yes, breathe the nectar.”
One thought burned my brain. I needed something, needed it with all my being. Only he had it.
“Pleeeease,” I moaned.
He released me. “Take your jacket and shirt off.”
I wasn't sure if I unbuttoned or ripped them off, but they were quickly on the grass.
“Now the bra and jeans. Panties too.”
They came off even faster.
“Nice.” He licked his lips. “You couldn't be much more than …eighteen? You're the most fuckable piece of ass I've seen here.”
A distant part of me realized I was naked and crawling to him, but I couldn't stop.
“It's right here baby, all hard and ready-”
I reached for top of his workout pants and pulled them down, freeing his stiff cock. That's what I needed!, my brain told me. I wrapped my hands around the thick shaft.
“Open wide-”
A clanging sound made me blink; in the distance, something flashed yellow and red.
“What the fuck?” the man said, pulling back. No! Come back. Need!
“Back away from her or I'll shoot,” a woman's voice echoed from far away.
“Shit!” He jumped back farther and yanked his pants up.
I pawed for his pants again, grabbing a hand instead, and …there was something small in it.
“Please, please…” I croaked.
“Rain check, little slut. Gotta run.” He grabbed me hard. “You do not remember my face.”
His words made my eyes go fuzzy, blurry. I couldn't focus on him. “Don't …remember…”
He released me and I slumped to the ground. The sound of him running away, the realization the thing I needed was gone, made me frantic.
“noooo …come back…”
I heard footsteps; someone was running to me. It dawned on me my body was shivering.
“Sydney! Are you alright?”
Deirdre's voice brought some of my thinking brain back online.
“what- …what's happening?” Why am I naked and lying in the grass?
“Dammit, I should have watched you closer.” Deirdre wrapped her arms around me and pulled her close. Her body heat felt so good. “Did he …rape you?”
Rape? Did he?
“He …I don't …he didn't …go in me, but I took his … I… I wanted to…” I flung my arms around her. “Oh God!”
“Sshh.” Through my shivers, Deirdre managed to get my clothes back on me. At some point I realized the clanging and flashing lights were the GenTech security station alarms.
“Let's get you inside before the Security goons show up.”
“Security? They'll …question me about …and I'd have to tell them I…” Panic overwhelmed me as I pictured creepy Styles asking all sorts of questions. “Get me out of here!”
“I've got you, love, let's go.”
“Wait!” When I reached for his c-” no way could I even say the word, much less what I almost did with it. I shook my head then uncurled my hand. “When I reached for him, I grabbed this.”
Deirdre took the small vial and held it to her eye. “Empty, but we'll get the composition of this stuff from the residue. If it's any consolation, you may have given us our first real chance to stop this bastard.”
TUESDAY 8:40 P.M. GENTECH BUILDING A, DEIRDRE ROGER'S FLAT
I tried to answer Deirdre's questions, but my mind was in off mode and wouldn't switch back on. I'd try to concentrate, but my thoughts floated away. Then I smelled cinnamon. When Julia's arms wrapped around me, I hugged her back hard, and buried my head in her chest.
“What do we know?” Julia sounded winded; I wondered if she had sprinted to Deirdre's room.
“Sydney was assaulted, just like Lauren and Kara. I set off the panic alarms and scared whoever he was away before he had …intercourse with her, but it was still bad. He made her strip and crawl to him.”
“Change me back,” I whispered, “right now. I want to go home.”
“You're safe, baby, shhh,” Julia said, and stroked my hair.
“I'm done, Julia, I can't take this!”
Julia had the saddest look on her face when she nodded her head, and I immediately felt like shit, but it didn't change my mind. I did not sign up for this.
“If you still feel that way in the morning, sweetie, I'll change you back.”
Deirdre opened her mouth to say something, but stop herself. What did she want from me?
“Can you remember what the man looked like?” Julia asked.
“No, it's …when I try to remember, it's a blur.” I couldn't; my head filled with white noise when I tried to think about his face.
“Just like Lauren and Kara,” Deirdre said. “Dammit! Why did I let her out of my sight?”
“Not your fault; I should have listened,” I whispered.
“What kind of substance can do this?” Julia said, then her body stiffened. “Wait! Looked like? God what an idiot I've been. Deirdre, it's Sydney, let's ask her what she remembers from her other senses.”
“Of course!” Deirdre said, excited. “Sydney, what does Julia smell like to you?”
I wasn't sure where this was going, but I was too numb to argue.
“Cinnamon.”
Julia's eyebrow raised. “What's this about?”
“She assigns smells to the people she likes and dislikes as a way of classifying them. Right Sydney?”
I gave a little nod, but didn't raise my head from Julia's chest.
“Cinnamon, hmm?” Julia stroked my hair again. “And Deirdre?”
“Roses.” I whispered.
“Interesting,” Julia said, “So this is your short hand version of us, of our scents?”
I gave another jerky nod.
“For you, everyone has a unique scent signature, right?”
I nodded again.
“Now the rapist …if we were back at the lab, how would you categorize him?”
“I told you I don't…oh …ohhhh,” I finally got it; God am I slow! I closed my eyes. When I thought of his scent, the white noise faded. “Um …a musky smell, intense, maybe 84 on the LM, but also, a minty odor, with a 60 rating-”
“-You'd recognize his scent again if you were around him?” Deirdre interrupted.
“Absolutely. He smells like SHIT to me.”
“What can you tell us about the odor that caused you to lose control?” Julia asked.
“You mean the one that made me want to fuck his brains out?” I hadn't meant it too, but my voice turned shrill.
I saw Julia shoot Deirdre a worried look. “Er, yes.”
“A spermous smell, the first time maybe an LM 45? But then-”
“First time?” Deirdre asked.
“When he first came up to me, I knew something funny was happening, so I started breathing through my mouth, and was able to run.”
“Smart girl,” Julia said.
Deirdre had a 'light bulb going on' look on her face. “Because …breathing through the mouth bypassed the … the smell receptors in the nose? This could be a useful defense technique. I'll pass it along to everyone in A.”
“It only worked for a little while. He said something about it not being a big enough dose, and he drank from the …vial I gave you? He grabbed me and I …lost control …and …and…”
“Oh, honey, I'm so sorry this happened to you-” Julia said.
She unwrapped her arms from me and stood. Then she pulled Deirdre to the other side of the living room. Though they were talking in low tones, I heard them; everyone focuses on my crazy mad smell sense, but my hearing is damn good too.
“I've got to get this vial down to the lab to see if we can pick up a residue; we've got to figure out what the hell this stuff is and what we can do to neutralize it. Probably an all nighter. She can't be left alone tonight,” Julia whispered, “so I want you to stay with her.”
“I need to go to the OPs room to check the monitors. We should expect a knock at our front door for sure from Styles, and-”
Julia shook her head. “-I'll call Samantha and have her go down; YOU STAY HERE! She's in bad shape; a sexual assault wasn't even on her radar.”
“I understand, and I won't let you …or her …down again,” Deirdre said. “No one will hurt her. NO ONE.”
That roused my from my lethargy; Deirdre almost sounded territorial.
TUESDAY, 9:10 P.M. GENTECH BUILDING H, DEIRDRE'S ROGER'S FLAT
The white noise was back and getting worse. I think I'm sitting on Deirdre's couch, but everything is fuzzy. Deirdre keeps asking questions, and I feel my lips moving, but I'm not sure what I'm saying. I feel her bump me and realize she is sitting next to me.
“Why were you outside alone?”
“Stir crazy. Needed air.” I heard my voice whisper. “Went for a walk.”
“After I warned you not to?”
I nodded but didn't look up.
“So you ignored my warning and put yourself at risk. What would have happened if you had been injured or killed? A lot of time and resources have been invested in your participation in Julia's project. Did you think of your obligation to her?”
“No, I …didn't …but-”
“You were irresponsible and immature. Since you can't behave as an adult, I’ll treat you as a child.”
“I …what?”
“You've been a naughty girl. What happened to naughty girls in your family?”
“Wait …naughty? W-what do you mean?”
“In my family, naughty girls got a spanking.”
In a quick move, Deirdre whipped me face down over her knees, and twisted one of my arms behind my back.
“Hey!” The white noise was gone now. “This isn't funny, let me up!”
I felt Deirdre rubbing her hand on my upturned ass. “After you say 'I've been a naughty girl.'”
“Jesus! Someone just tried to-”
--SMACK--
“OW! That hurt! This has gone far en-”
--SMACK--
“Ye-OW! Stop it, dammit!”
But Deirdre didn't, until six stinging spanks later when I begged,
“Stop …please? I …I've been a …a …naughty girl.” Salty wet pooled in my eyes.
“Cry for me.”
“Cry? Haven't in years. Don't think I can.”
--SMACK--
“It wasn't a request: Let. It. Out.”
I didn't mean to; it just started happening: first my body shuddered, and sobs hiccupped out. Deirdre lifted me up and held me to her chest, rocking me back and forth.
“There's my girl, all out.”
Everything spilled out in gushes. “Why? Why did I crawl to him? I'm not really a woman and I'm not gay, but I wanted him …to …to …what's wrong with me, am I sick?”
“Shhhh! You were in heat, needing to mate. You were as primal a woman as they come. Relax. You're safe with me.”
A sigh left my lips, and I nuzzled deeper into Deirdre's chest.
She didn't seem to mind at all.
“Hey! I'm hungry!”
Energy suddenly filled me and I untangled and bounced up from the coach.
“Have you eaten?” I asked, as I headed for her kitchen. “Let me rustle up something special for my knight in shining armor.”
Deirdre raised an eyebrow, at my giddiness, I guessed.
“You realize you are having a manic episode, most likely a counter reaction to your trauma.”
I ignored her. “I'm not a bad cook, you know.”
I'm sure she did know; it must have been in my dossier; ‘Sidney’ drifted for years after leaving Julia's project. I dropped out of college, moved to Province in southern France, and became, among other things, a wine taster, a perfume fragrance consultant, and a sous chef.
“I don't have anything exotic,” Deirdre said, when she heard me rustling around in her pantry, “just basics. I usually have time to woof down a protein and something green.”
“How sad for you,” I called back. “Hey, bonus! You've got French bread that hasn't turned furry, semi fresh tomatoes, and garlic cloves; I can do some damage here. Any fresh herbs? Where's your olive oil?”
“Dried herbs are in the spice cabinet. Why did you have to go for a walk, Sydney?”
“Staying in stale buildings wears on me; I truly do need fresh air. Why did you have to lock me up?”
I wasn't sure what she said next, but it kind of sounded like: “The better to keep you to myself.”
“What?”
“I said, 'the olive oil's on the top shelf,'” she answered, in a louder voice.
“Ah! Great, thanks.”
Ten minutes later, I walked back into the living room, plate in hand.
“Viola, fresh Bruschetta.” I sat next to her on the couch.
“That smells wonderful; what's the composition?”
Composition? Jesus, these scientists are annoying!
“It's so simple. You slice the bread, drizzle on oil and pop it in the oven. While it's toasting, you dice some tomatoes, a little garlic, toss in a dash of oregano, basil -I love basil- parsley, and spread it on when the bread is done. It's so much better with fresh herbs.”
“Okay, so, hand one over.”
“Ah-ah. Close your eyes and smell.”
Deirdre took a deep breath. “I smell garlic.”
“Duh. And?”
“And …the basil, and the oregano? And-”
“Good enough, now with those scents in your mind, and with eyes closed, open your mouth.”
When she did, I slid a piece in. “Slowly, Deirdre, it's not a race; chew slowly.”
“Mmm,” Deirdre said, after several crunches. “The flavors are so rich.”
I sighed. “We smell and taste so little of what we eat.”
Oops! A tomato piece spilled off a bread slice. When I picked it up, Deirdre brought my hand to her mouth and licked the tomato off, then she leaned over and kissed me. For perhaps the fourth time in my life, I was speechless, only blinking in response.
“What the hell am I doing?” Deirdre growled as she pulled back. “Sorry; I shouldn't have done that. You've just had a traumatic experience, and I jump to intimate mode and presume to-”
I barked a laugh. “You spanked me! I'd hardly call an innocent kiss 'presumptuous' after that.”
“Yes …erm …about spanking you. I'm sorry I resorted to that, but you were in shock and I felt I needed to deploy some radical treatment to-”
“-Look, since I'll only be female a few more hours, we don't have scads of time. I'd like the memories of those hours to be something wonderful instead of what that bastard tried to do to me. And I never said I didn't like the kiss, I did; I was just surprised. I’m guessing by your kiss you are into girls, and, since I am one for the moment, let's try it again; I'm ready now.”
Not only ready, but primed. But when I leaned toward her, she drew back.
“No! You were sexually assaulted, for God's sake! Instead of further twisted relationship complications, you need a good night's rest. You are going to bed, and that's an order.”
I considered pressing the point, but shrugged instead. I couldn't keep up with her mood swings, and after what had happened to me, I didn't have the energy to try.
When we finished the Bruschetta, Deirdre led me to her bedroom. She gave me a T-shirt to sleep in that barely covered my butt; and for some reason, I got feeling Deirdre liked looking at me in it.
Good. Because I didn't want to be alone. Since I remembered I now had big green eyes, I tried to use them to my advantage.
“Sleep with me. Please?”
“No, dammit, no!”
Deirdre pushed me into the bedroom and closed me in.
“Where will you sleep?” I called through the door.
“Here on the couch. Where, instead of getting much needed rest, my mind will be dreaming of a beautiful blond-headed woman, in and out of a T-shirt, all night long.”
Wait! She was talking about …me? How coincidental. Because I knew I'd be dreaming of a beautiful dark haired woman, in and out of a white lab coat -and nothing else- all night long.
I didn't though. Or I did, but only for a little while.
Then the nightmare started; a faceless man was chasing me, down corridor after corridor in building 'A', his hands getting closer …reaching for me …closer, until…
Hands were shaking me.
“Sydney! Wake up! You're having a bad dream. You were screaming.”
“He’s coming for me, he’s-”
“-Shhhh, it's over, you're safe.” She stared at me a moment, and then nodded. “Okay, you win. Scoot over.”
I grabbed her and pulled her into bed. “Thank you,” I whispered, and didn't say another word.
But with Deirdre's arms around me, and the fragrance of roses surrounding me, I drifted into a dreamless sleep.
WEDNESDAY 6:56 A.M., DR. CARTER'S OFFICE, BASEMENT, GENTECH BUILDING 'A'
“Did you know there are hundreds of pheromones with which insects attract their mates? I bet you also weren't aware there are spiders that produce a moth sex pheromone to lure the poor things to their sticky silky death?”
The clock's little hand hadn't even reached seven in the morning - until this visit to GenTech, I didn't know the day had two 7:00s in it- so no way could I formulate a response to Julia.
Instead of launching a clever retort, I sat back and looked at her across her way too neat desk. From her dark circles and red eyes, she looked like she hadn't gotten a moment of sleep. More than that, she looked defeated. Deirdre, who sat next to me, was charged with anger energy; I assumed it was because she was pissed at me.
When I woke this morning, she had reverted to the 'cold' Dr. Rogers -God, was this woman bi-polar or what?- and was all business about hurrying me to Julia's office. We hadn't spoken except for one brief argument. I wanted to go back to my room to shower and change into fresh clothes, and she said no. Her reasoning was there was no need, since I soon would be converted to my male 'Sidney' body. She grudgingly compromised by letting me wear some clean workout pants and another t-shirt. I looked absurd.
“I assume you have studied the composition analysis from the vial?” Deirdre asked.
Julia nodded wearily and pushed a printout across the table. When she did, though, her eyes were on me instead of Deirdre, and they were so sad.
“Peptides αsk1 and αsk3? I don't recognize this compound.”
“It is a synthetic pheromone,” Julia said. “Humans produce small amounts of natural pheromones. Men secrete Androstenon, which, as we speculated yesterday, is delivered through sensory receptors in the nose, to stimulate the hypothalamus in the cortex of the brain.”
“Excuse me? Is there any chance I could stimulate my brain with some coffee? That way I might have a fighting chance to decipher your gibberish.”
“Sure, Syd,” Julia mustered a smile. There's a Starbucks machine in the kitchen station down the hall.
I nodded, and bolted away for a cup. Didn't need directions, because I could follow the smell; I was like one of those old cartoons where the character floated through the air when she got a whiff of apple pie. When I returned, with the elixir of life in hand, I found my two scientists were deep in the science shit; Deirdre was shaking her head as she stared at the printout.
“...then this compound will increase a woman's arousal by a factor of 10 over Androstenon! This will set woman's rights back a thousand years!”
“Factor of 10? That's huge, right?” I said, plopping down again.
“Think about the difference between David Banner and the Hulk, Syd, and you'll have a fair comparison,” Julia said.
“Let’s make a pact that from now on, you'll reduce every scientific explanation to a comic book analogy? It would make things so much easier.”
“I would agree, but since you won't be here for much longer, what’s the point?” Julia said, and then sighed. “Are you ready, Sydney? I've been stalling and shouldn't delay you any longer. The GAP lab is prepped and ready for your reversal. I'm so sorry; I should never have put you in harm’s way!”
“No, I am not ready. I cannot go looking like this!”
“Syd. You'll just wear that a few minutes longer before you-”
“-Nuh-uh.” I held up the wrist that had the pumpkin countdown watch. It blinked 54:05. “I have tons more minutes. I will not be seen like this.”
Julia's puzzled expression was priceless; Deirdre's too. They acted like I was speaking in tongues. Score! God how I wished I had brought a camera!
“I don't understand, sweetie, last night you said you wanted to be changed back and I thought-”
“-That was last night. This morning I woke up mad as hell...”
I had. The idea of what he had done, to me, and far worse to the other women, made my teeth grind. Could I run out on my friend? She placed her faith in me, and it was my stupidity that put me at risk for what happened. When was I going to take responsibility and see something through? Now might be a dandy time, since, you know, the fate of the world might actually hang in the balance.
“…and I'm not going to be run off by the bastard! You said the data from my experiment was critical to Project Y, right?”
“Yes, but that was before-”
“-No buts! I need to be going to the MASG lab, but not before I shower and change. I mean…” I primped my bedheaded blonde hair. “…a girl's got her priorities, ya know?”
Julia jumped from her desk seat and ran to hug me.
“Are you serious? Please say 'yes' because, I can't bear to say goodbye to you like this.”
I smiled at her. “I've never been more serious. I'm going to finish the MASG tests and help you in any other way I can; use me like a blood hound to catch this creep…”
Hmm. Blood Hound. The Blood Hound. Catchy, sort of sexy and noir. And soo much better than Nose Girl. But then, anything would be.
“…or whatever. You've got me for every last tick on my watch. After that? When I'm back to Sidney? If we haven't caught him, I will track him down and beat the shit out of him. I’m here for you, Jules, no matter what; I’m not going anywhere.”
She touched her forehead to mine. “Thank you.”
Deirdre's ice expression had melted. “Why didn't you tell me this when we woke up?”
“I tried to, but you went all android on me with one word responses.”
“I only did so because I thought I was losing you forever and-”
Julia's phone rang; the call ID screen read 'Richard Styles'.
I could tell Julia's blood pressure jumped at the call; she grimaced and pressed the conference call button.
“Yes Mr. Styles? Hopefully you are calling to report the rapist has been apprehended?”
“You should be so lucky. I was calling because GenTech's panic alarms were activated last night and I received an anonymous tip your assistant -the one I met in our meeting yesterday, Cindy Johnson?- was sexually assaulted last night. Do you have any information for me on this?”
I frowned; how had he learned this? Julia and Deirdre looked baffled as well.
“Yeah, this is …Cindy, and, no, nothing like that happened to me.”
“Reeally?” His voiced dripped with sarcasm; he knew I was lying! “Excellent news, then. I would again caution you, Ms. Johnson. Or ...is it Sidney Edwards?...”
He knew!
“…Your inexperience with that beautiful new body makes you especially vulnerable to the attacker. Please be extra careful.”
Wait! Was he threatening me? I felt Julia's arms wrap around my shoulders. The look on Deirdre's face though… I was wrong when I first met Deirdre and thought from the glint in her eyes that she wanted to kill me. Because, the way her eyes were boring into the phone? She wanted to slow roast Dick Styles over a bed of hot coals.
“If you have specific information relating to a danger to Ms. Edwards, I suggest you share it with her, Mr. Styles.”
“Ah, Dr. Rogers! You are there too. Of course you are.” Styles chuckled. “You and your play security team have a real live threat on your hands. What will you do?”
We heard the phone click as the bastard hung up on us. Julia squeezed my hand.
“Dammit dammit dammit! We are compromised,” Deirdre said. “The fact he knows about you confirms we have a spy.”
“I'm afraid Deirdre's right, Syd. If you are being targeted, then maybe you should get changed back anyway,” Julia said, her voice going sad again. “While we know what the synthetic compound does, we don't know how to block the mating response. It may be weeks before we map the gene affected by this. If the attacker hurts you again I don't think I could forgive myself.”
“CP404.”
“What?” Julia and Deirdre said together.
“It's a temporary fix. CP404 is an experimental weight loss spray I learned about a couple of years ago. Guys with expert noses like me in the fragrance biz keep a close watch on stuff that deadens the sense of smell; our living depends on it. The idea behind CP404 is to coat the olfactory bulb in the nose that controls smell and taste...”
'Olfactory bulb.' See? See? I know stuff too!
“... to suppress the trigger to eat. If you have a reduced sense of smell or taste, you eat less. So if you get this formula and increase its potency, to, er, Hulk strength, the gals in 'A' will be immune to the scent. And they'll drop a few pounds too; win, win!”
They stared at me like I had a horn growing out of my forehead. Score! Finally, Julia managed to speak.
“I think that might actually work. Sydney, that's brilliant!” Her face was beaming now, and not tired at all. “I love the simplicity of it. You …really are going to stay?”
I resisted the urge to stick out my tongue at Deirdre; there would be plenty of opportunities to infuriate the egg-headed and uber hot scientist later. This was my noble moment, so I tried to make my smile as bright as I could.
“Yup. I'm ready to help you save the world. Or, I will be, once I shower and get some decent clothes on.”
Julia and Deirdre burst into laughter. Maybe it was a second wind. Or maybe they were recharged because I hadn't bailed. Whatever the reason, the fire was back in their eyes.
WEDNESDAY, 7:40 A.M. SYDNEY EDWARD'S FLAT, BUILDING 'A'
“Coming!”
I had just stepped out of the shower when I heard the doorbell. I threw on my bathrobe and went for the door. When I got a few steps away, a dual scent hit me, of roses and roses. Weird.
“Coming ...Deirdre.”
When I opened it, a dozen red stemmed flowers were thrust in my face. What the hell?
“Those are, um, pretty-”
“For you,” Deirdre said, handing them off. “I wanted to …to thank you for the spray idea you came up with. That truly was a fantastic idea. You can't know how relieved everyone in 'A' will be to have this protection. The gals in the GAP lab are springing into action to get the formula and start producing batches.”
“Glad to help. No one should be made to do what that bitch scent does to you.”
Deirdre looked at the flowers in my hand. “Aren't you going to smell them? That's the normal reaction a girl has when she's given roses.”
“I already did, through the door.”
An awkward silence settled in.
“So ...I also wanted to thank you for ...staying.”
“Yeah, like I told Julia, I-”
Deirdre grabbed me and pulled me to her for a kiss.
Not just any smooch, it was a 'tongue deep inside the mouth, take no prisoners' kiss. I tried to push away, but when I couldn't break her grasp -okay, I didn't try that hard- I gave in and kissed back.
When I finally came up for air, I squeaked, “Jesus! When you thank someone, you really thank them.”
“Sshh,” Deirdre said, and pushed me against a wall. “You are so pretty I could eat you up.”
I gulped; I didn't know how to respond to that; I'd always been on the other side of those compliments.
“Er, yeah thanks, I-”
Deirdre put her hand over my mouth.
“What can I say? The spanks probably clued you that I’ve got kinks; I'm a dom; an obsessive compulsive control freak. When I see something I want, I take it. Right now, I want you, to come with me to the Founder's Ball tomorrow night.”
I blinked. In the Deirdre mood pendulum, she was swinging way back to the hot side. “You're asking me …on a date?”
“I suspect since we are in lockdown mode, whoever is attacking us will be forced to wait to strike at the Ball. So we need Nose Girl to be on guard duty tomorrow night. You said you'd recognize him again if you got his scent, right?”
“Yeah, definitely.”
“Even in a large crowd?”
“Even in Times Square, on New Year's Eve, at midnight.” I didn't think I was exaggerating; my smell sense had improved that much. I hoped to God this wouldn’t involve wearing spandex and the letters ‘NG’.
“Excellent, perfect!”
My shoulders sagged. “So, that's the only reason you are asking me?”
In answer, Deirdre pushed me against the wall again, kissing me roughly. Something about the way she held me, commanding and possessive, sent electricity zinging through my new body.
“O-okay, so business and pleasure.” The breathlessness of my response surprised me. “I'm good with that.”
“There’s my girl. Tomorrow, after you finish your MASG work, I'll take you out to get a dress. I've got just the one in mind.”
“I brought several outfits; surely one of those would work.”
Deirdre shook her head. “No offense, but I've looked through your suitcase and what you brought is pretty ...boring.”
“You looked through my-”
She stopped my lips with a couple of playful slaps on my cheek.
“If you are going to be my date, I want you looking hot. Also, it will be easier for you to detect the attacker’s smell, if the fly is drawn to you, honey.”
“You ...always seem to have dual purposes for everything you do.”
“Oh, and babe, wear that red silk number again for me tonight; you look ravishing in it. Be sure you stand in front of the mirror and twirl around.”
“Wait …what?” Understanding cracked my thick skull. “I knew you had a camera hidden in here.”
“What did you expect? I am Julia's evil enforcer,” she said, as she left my room.
A date. Deirdre asked me on a date. And I wanted to go. With her.
I stood staring after the closed door, mouth open, flowers in hand for the longest time.
Surrounded by the scent of roses.
End Part 2
***
Fragrance Part 3,
by Armond
Syd and Deirdre plot to trap the ‘GenTech Raper’ with a combination of scent and honey. Their plan works to perfection, unless …it was all a diversion?
Author's note: for a cleaner pdf version of this story, please click here
***
Smell is surer than sight or sound. - Kipling
Fragrance
Part 3
THURSDAY 11:49 A.M., GENTECH BUILDING ‘A’, BIOGENETICS LAB ROOM 313
“Odor plume theory?”
What in God's name was our perky grad assistant yammering about? “No clue here, Mandy.”
“Oh, yeah, big debate in the field,” the red head continued. “One research camp says it's the bee's dance that gives directions to the nectar, while the other camp claims the dance is the bee's way of saying 'hey, look at me' so she can pass the nectar odor to the other workers, who follow the odor plume to the flower.”
I was starting to worry; if someone had struck up a conversation with me a month ago about GPS systems in bees, I would have yawned in her face. Now, this seemed interesting; was geekiness contagious?
“And you want to know if I can confirm this plume theory?”
When Amanda nodded, I thought a moment, and shrugged. “Plumes definitely exist everywhere…”
In my new body, my smell sense was so jazzed, I felt fragrant plumes battering me from all directions.
“…but that doesn't prove or disprove either camp's argument, does it?”
She blinked for several seconds, and smiled. “For all your blond flightiness, you are pretty bright, Syd.”
I had only been a blond-let me amend that, blond woman - for a few days, and already people thought I was ditsy? Jeez!
“Why thank you, Ms. Benedict. I value your opinion, and assume you no longer think I am immune to the Mad Cow Disease.”
Amanda furrowed her eyebrows. “Mad Cow Disease? I don't follow.”
“Didn't you know? Blonds are immune to MCD…”
When Amanda shot me a 'what the fuck' expression, I knew I had her.
“…because it only affects the brain.”
She tried not to, but her lips curled into a grin. Score! She shook her head, finished entering whatever data she was scribbling on her iPad, and glanced up.
“Fini. The last of your tests. All done,” Amanda announced to the room. Then she leaned closer and whispered, “I like you Syd, so some advice.”
I guessed what was coming, because everyone told me the same thing - 'quit screwing around, get back to school, and finish your degree,' or some variation on the theme. I braced for it.
“I heard you were going to Founder's Ball tonight with Deirdre. If I were you, I'd stay away from her. Carter too. They are evil.”
Evil? Okay, so, not the talk I figured.
“Like wicked evil? Or chocolate cake evil? Or-”
“Satan evil.”
Something had tickled my brain about Amanda all day and I finally pinned it down - she had no scent! How was that possible?
Wait, I detected a faint chemical odor masking her. I knew hunters sometimes doused themselves in a product to hide their human scent from their prey, but …why would Amanda need to do this? Could this have something to do with me?
“What they are doing goes against the laws of God,” Amanda continued, hissed more than whispered, “it is a sinful perversion of His creation.”
Deirdre walked into the lab, then, her eyes found mine, and she flashed a smile. My return smile was a reflex reaction.
“Sydney is finished, and is free to goof off for the rest of the day,” Amanda said in her chirpy voice. As she helped me up from the testing chair, she whispered, “last warning, get out while you can.”
Before I could blink a reaction, Alcina and the rest of the MASG team were applauding, and Deirdre was hustling me out the door. No way was I going to let this be my grand exit!
I stopped, whirled to face the group, and bowed.
“Thank you, thank you, and smell you all later.”
Deirdre pulled me through the door when I wouldn't stop blowing kisses. Once outside the lab, Deirdre latched onto my arm and led me down the hallway.
“You need a few things for tonight, so we get those first.”
“A few things? Umm ...like what?”
“Like …everything. Evening dress and high heels, your hair styled, and ears pierced to wear earrings I want on you.”
“Is all this really necessary? All I need to do is wander around enough to pick up the bastard's scent.”
“I explained this before; you have an incredible body and I want it on full display to lure him to you. And ...would it kill you to look pretty for me?”
I heard the ache in her words, but what could I do? She pulled me close one moment and pushed me away the next. So I resorted to my default sarcasm.
“Ah, well. If saving the world means shopping, I will suck it up and make the sacrifice. You're paying, right?”
THURSDAY 5:44 P.M. GENTECH BUILDING ‘A’, DEIRDRE ROGER'S FLAT
“Quit fiddling with your ears. Do they hurt?”
I shook my head and let my hand drop. “So weird.”
The reflection in the dressing table mirror mesmerized me: my golden hair was cut with uneven layering, giving it a full look. I wore a black silk bra, matching black silk bikini cut panties, and nothing else.
I know this sounds vain and narcissistic, but there was no getting around it, I'm gorgeous. I caught my hand again starting to travel to the unfamiliar weights hanging from my ears; black onyx stud earrings in each lobe.
“Deirdre? Back at the parlor ...you seemed very …possessive …about the way you wanted me to look.”
Deirdre was behind me with her hands on my shoulders. When I felt her hot breath on my ear, I shivered. “Mmmm. And I like what I see.”
Then the words spilled from my stupid mouth before I could stop them.
“Are you always this controlling in your relationships? If you ask me, you're a bit over the top and need to dial it back.”
Deirdre stiffened and pulled away. “Since you disappear after tomorrow, do me a favor and keep your idiot advice to yourself.”
“I'm …sorry, I didn't mean anything by-”
“-And who asked you, anyway? The person who never committed to anyone in his life? Never accomplished shit in his life?”
Bi-polar much? God, what was wrong with her? I turned away so she wouldn't see how badly her words had hurt.
“Yeah …okay …I get it.” Despite my best efforts, my eyes teared. “I'm your blood hound; nothing more. I'll do my part, don't worry, Dr. Rogers.”
“Oh Sydney,” Deirdre took my face in her hands, “I'm so sorry I said that, I-”
I pushed her hands away. “-Let's get this over with, shall we?”
“Did you know I was the first person to receive Julia's gene alteration procedure?”
“Eh? What?” The non-sequitur confused me and momentarily stopped the emotional waterworks.
“I was the first. I was diagnosed with muscular dystrophy when I was five. By 10, I could only walk with braces, and by 12, I was strapped into a wheelchair for good. 25 is the 'use by' date for people with DMD, so when I turned 28, I was beating the odds -yea me!- but I also was developing severe lung disorders, and probably wouldn't reach 29. That was when Julia offered me my golden ticket to the GAP chamber.”
“Oh ...I had no idea...” I still wasn't connecting the dots on why I was getting this speech, though it did reinforce my view that Julia was downright awesome.
“Hang with me awhile on this. Imagine a geeky wheelchair science nerd who had never been on a date suddenly being given a new life looking like this.”
Deirdre gestured to the body I continued to process as 'Kate Beckinsale clone'. “So ...big adjustment?”
“I would hazard to say mine was bigger than yours. Before my conversion, I was female in the technical sense, but I was so asexual, I might as well have been a bowling ball. After my treatment, I was suddenly popular, desirable. I had zero social skills; through a series of tragic-comic relationships, I discovered I was a lesbian; who knew?”
I figured she was right; her change sounded harder. 'Sidney' had always been popular; with my easy manner, I never had a problem in social settings or making friends.
“Last year, I stumbled into my first real relationship with Anne, from Product Development. I was crazy mad for her, and she introduced me to ... so many things: fashion, life outside work, mmm, kinky sex. For the first time in my life, I was living! But where I wanted something permanent, she ...did not. You've seen me in action the past few days, so I'm sure you would agree I have OCD issues. The more I tried to control the situation, the worse it got, until she ran -literally- from me. She left GenTech and moved to the east coast.”
“God, Deirdre, I'm sorry you-”
“-Wait! Hold the pity for a moment; I'm getting to my little sob tale's punch line. After she left I shut off my emotions again and buried myself in work. Then you waltz in, and I start having the same feelings again, only worse, because tomorrow you become a completely different person -she tapped my countdown watch- and to protect myself...”
Ah! The light bulb clicked on. “-You've been swinging between nice and nasty?”
“I was going to say hot and cold,” Deirdre answered. “Hot because your hot little body spins my spokes, and cold because I realize I'm falling for you and reflexively try to pull away.”
I sat for several moments processing that. “You're ...falling for me?”
When Deirdre slowly nodded, my eyes turned wet again. “I feel the same ...SHIT! I'm crying again! What are we going to do?”
Deirdre let out a heavy sigh. “Nothing. Pretend tomorrow doesn't exist. Do our job tonight. If you do, I'll reward you with …what did you say the other night? You wanted a night to remember? Still game?”
“Yeah ...hell yeah...” I whispered.
Deirdre ran her fingers over my bra, and then -oooo- pinched my nipple. “So, apology accepted?”
“Yes ma'am!”
“Now, let's try to salvage your mascara, and then it's my turn to attempt to look half as beautiful as you.”
When Deirdre finished with my makeup, she scooched me out of her makeup chair. “Walk around to get used to those heels; I do not want you doing a face plant.”
A real possibility, as I was wearing black leather 'T' strap sandals with three-inch heels. Which I thought my feet looked ultra cool in, potential face plants notwithstanding.
“How 'bout I put my dress on now too,” I asked as I tottered around.
“Absolutely not,” Deirdre said, as she applied base. From the glint in her eye, I gathered she didn't feel the slightest guilt twinge making me parade around in undergarments.
“Let's talk about tonight; how will you find the scent of one man with so many around?”
“I'm not sure if I can put this in words; I've never had to describe it to anyone.” I was walking back and forth, becoming steadier.
“Don't lean forward so much,” Deirdre said. “Try to tell me; I need to figure out the best way to work the party.”
“Hey, this isn't so bad.” I tried to spin then, with disastrous results. “Oops! We aren't going to be dancing are we?”
“Yeah, we'll tango, fox trot, and as your finale, you'll flamenco to the Gypsy Kings,” Deirdre said. “Please! No dancing for you; you'd be an ostrich on ice. How close do you need to be, to pick up the scent?”
“Don't worry, I don't have to sniff anyone's butt; I guess I need to get within thirty feet of the person or so...”
“Sorry,” Deirdre said, grinning. “That didn't come out right; I really am using you like a blood hound, aren't I?”
I let out a long aawwooooo. “Your dawg is getting cold here; can I please put on some clothes?”
“Go on; you seem awfully excited about wearing a dress.”
“I am, actually; I haven't had many opportunities, I was Bo Peep for a costume party once, and wore a kimono for a day when I lost a bet, but that's it.”
I slithered into my new licorice lace strapless dress, and was gazing at my reflection over Deirdre' shoulder, when a feeling came over me. Wistful. Sad.
“What's wrong?”
“I don't know, I …like the way this looks, the way I …am.” I sighed. I was mixed up inside, and hadn't a clue why.
Deirdre stood and gave me a hug, and then she went to her closet to put on black silk Versace pants suit. When she returned? Yes, I was ogling the dark haired woman, and why not? Her pants cling to her in all the right places. Then a thought hit me.
“Hey! What gives?”
“What? You don't like?” Deirdre smiled.
She knew I did like; I was practically drooling. But why was she in long pants, while my dress barely made it to my thighs?
“I'm flashing skin and you get to wear that? Why?”
"Simple. Slight of hand diversion. First, I have to wear a jacket to conceal my holster for this baby." Deirdre held up a black pistol. "It's a tranquilizer air pistol, loaded with darts that would drop a rhino."
I stared at the dark gleaming piece of metal in her hand, and remembered Styles' snide remark about her playing security chief. Was she in over her head?
“Don't take this the wrong way, but what do you know about,” I waved my hand at her gun, “spy stuff?”
“No offense taken. Julia learned fast not to trust Styles, or anyone not involved with GAP, so for the past two years she's been sending me to 'academic lectures and seminars', which were really private security training courses. Hand-to-hand combat, surveillance, firearm proficiency, and a month long kick-your-ass immersion course. Amazing what is available if you have the money. In turn, I've trained other scientists -the younger fitter ones- so that we have our security force. But, yes, you should be worried; we're amateurs. We've only had to deal with something like this two or three times.”
“Wow! So you're like a female Jason Bourne with a PhD in biogenetics?” I tried to imagine that combination - terminate the rogue genome with extreme prejudice!- and couldn't. “Okay, so …why not use a real gun? I really wouldn't mind if someone shot this bastard.”
“Don't worry, we have other plans for Mr. Rapist; much better than a slug or two of lead. To your point about why you are wearing your fetching outfit -aside from the fact I love you in it- is, all eyes will be on you, and not me.”
“I disagree. You are dangerous hot in your sleek number; everyone will slobber over you like I am.”
“You may be right. Hmmm, how will we fix this? I know! Strip; you'll go in naked.”
“You're …kidding, right?”
“Yeah …I am.” Deirdre sighed as her eyes roamed up and down my body. “God how I wish I weren't.”
6:30P.M., GENTECH CAMPUS GROUNDS, FOUNDER'S DAY BALL
I'm freezing!
Even though spring officially arrived several weeks ago, the sea breeze made the evening brisk, and I made sure to spend as much time as I could under the glowing open air heaters. There were plenty to choose from; the thirty or so heaters marked the circle boundary of the Founder's Day Ball, which sprawled across the green field between Buildings F and G. In a way, the heaters gave the affair a romantic feel, the orange they glowed nearly matching the sunset.
“C'mon, Sydney, peel yourself away from the heaters,” Deirdre growled. “You are supposed to be working the crowd to pick up scents.”
I sighed. Deirdre was right of course, and to my smell sense, the fuel from the heater I 'clutched' was overpowering.
“How do women do it?” I grumbled, as I trailed her back into the party. The band, 'Innocence Mission' had begun a second set, and a lead guitar solo was echoing off 'Lake GenTech'.
“Do what?” Deirdre asked.
“Not have perpetual cases of hypothermia! This is insane!”
Deirdre couldn't keep the smug grin off her face. Between the cold and my heels drilling into the damp spring grass, she was deriving perverse pleasure from my female fashion lesson.
“Quit whining. You look marvelous.”
“Thank you.” I felt the blush rise in my face, despite the cold. Then I remembered my Billy Crystal from his SNL bits and wondered if that was what she meant.
A question occurred to me that I should have asked hours ago. “When we find this guy, what happens next? I mean, is he operating alone? Or are there others?”
She gently grabbed my arm. “I won't lie to you Syd; this is dangerous. It's not bloody likely he's working alone. Someone on the inside of 'A' IDed Lauren and Kara …and you …as targets. If we can catch the attacker maybe we can get him to reveal who it is. If we ask really nice.”
Talk of inside spies caused my cryptic chat with Amanda to come back to me, and I relayed the exchange to Deirdre.
“She warned you to get out? I wish you'd mentioned that tidbit earlier.”
I felt the heat rise again in my face; this time from my stupidity. Maybe I was a ditsy blond after all.
“I'm so sorry Deirdre, I meant to but-”
“-You had a controlling bitch-scientist steal you away for a whirlwind shopping spree. No sweat, sweetie, this one is on me.”
Deirdre tapped her earpiece -Earpiece? When did she put that on? Maybe she was good at this spy stuff- and said, “Sarah? I need you to dig into the background of Amanda Benedict from the MASG group …confirmed …treat her as a …person of interest.”
Deirdre scanned the crowd of GenTech partiers. “Are you picking anything up?”
In fact, I was picking up everything. I'd been scared all the individual scents would merge in the crowd, but they hadn't. I could identify each person within a thirty yard radius! If there weren't several thousand GenTech partiers around me, my range would have been much farther, bordering on a canine range. On cue, Elvis began crooning 'You ain't nothin' but a Hound Dog' in my mind.
“Nothing yet. I-”
A young woman dressed in tight black jeans and latex pink corset jumped in front of me. Her ears and eyebrows held numerous piercings, and a small but conspicuous silver ring hung from her nose. I had a feeling Astra always made an entrance.
“-Hey! Nose Girl! Deirdre was right; you are hot.”
“Hot? Hot??!! I'm freeeezing, Nose Ring Girl.”
Deirdre stepped between us. “I don't believe you two were introduced in our meeting yesterday...”
I guessed this was true; Astra jumped right to calling me Nose Girl without any formal introduction.
“…Sydney, this is Astra Steven. Astra, Sydney Edwards. Astra is perhaps the most brilliant geneticist at GenTech.”
“Perhaps? I am the most brilliant,” she said, “except maybe for Julia.”
Astra grinned and stuck out her hand, which I shook vigorously.
“This so-called 'party' is dull and filled with creepy old people,” Astra said, drawing close. “Any thoughts on how to loosen them up?”
“Well, if it were me…” an idea of purest evil bubble up in my mind. “…I'd get a hold of the mike, and announce a $10,000 raffle. To enter, you have to leave an autographed pair of your underwear …or panties or whatever …in front of the cutie boy singer.”
Astra raised an eyebrow to Deirdre. “Now that is true genius!”
Deirdre slapped the palm of her hand to her forehead. “So this is why Julia wanted to keep you two apart, you are both operating on a 3rd grade maturity level. Time to move, Nose Girl, you've got lots more smells to process.”
Astra's face turned serious. “I hope you nail the bastard. You can really track him from his scent?”
“Her sense of smell is so developed that each person has a unique scent,” Deirdre answered.
“Fascinating!” Astra said. “What does our rapist smell like?”
White anger jolted through me. “Like shit!”
“What she means,” Deirdre quickly explained, “is she assigns a short hand descriptor to avoid having to recite the full LM scale description.”
“Ah, good, because, 'shit' seemed a mite general,” Astra said.
“So you know, I can differentiate over twenty different 'shit' scents.” After the 'eewws' cross their faces, I added, “pretty shitty, huh?”
“What do I smell like,” Astra asked.
I closed her eyes, took in a deep breath, and smiled. “Licorice. Black licorice.”
Astra laughed. “And Deirdre? What scent does she give you?”
I started to speak, but Deirdre put a finger over my lips. “That's …private. Let's go, Sydney; later, Astra.”
Astra's hand shot out to grab Deirdre. “This fucker's dangerous, and if he knows she can ID him, there's no telling what he might do. I like Nose Girl. A lot. So you take care of her, Ms. Spock.”
“I will,” Deirdre answered softly, “because I like her too…”
Astra's eyes danced from Deirdre to me, and her eyebrow arched.
"Oh, it's more than like, Ms. Spock, a whole lot more. You've got it bad.”
7:25 P.M., GENTECH CAMPUS GROUNDS, FOUNDER'S DAY BALL
The scent came strongly, even through the jumbled aroma of the party. I closed my eyes and turned in a circle, trying to get a direction.
“You've got something?” Deirdre asked, her voice excited.
“Yes,” I answered, and opened my eyes. “That way.”
When Deirdre followed my sightline toward the nacho buffet line, I said, “behind the buffet, where those people are mingling.”
Deirdre tapped her earpiece again. “Sarah, did you copy? Okay ...tell the EMT team 'green light'; we're heading over.”
“S-so ...what do we do?” I felt my knees shake a little.
Deirdre took my hand and squeezed. “Relax, love. I'll drop him, and a couple of EMTs -who happen to be nearby, funny, that- will whisk him away …to the GAP lab, for, uh, processing. Or is it ...rehabilitation? All you do is point him out. I won't let anything happen to you. Can you do this?”
I felt my shoulders relax. “Yeah.”
Deirdre pulled her pistol from its holster and held it inside her jacket. “Slowly walk to the nacho line and act like you're hungry.”
“Hungry? Are you kidding? I'm scared shitless ...and …and …aw crap! ...can you smell it? They used cheese whiz for the cheese!”
Deirdre laughed. “This superpower of yours; it's really a curse, isn't it?”
I gave a solemn nod. “You cannot imagine the true horror of cheese whiz.”
As we approached the line, I zeroed in on the target: a man dressed in khakis and yellow polo shirt, several yards beyond the buffet line, was sipping a beer; he seemed to be scanning the crowd. I hoped I'd have some recognition of his appearance, but I didn't; whatever he had done to me had truly fucked my visual memory.
I didn't need it; his scent screamed to me. I quickly turned my back to him.
“Him,” I whispered to Deirdre. “Yellow shirt. Goatee. That's the bastard.”
“I bet he remembers you, too. He will especially like your outfit tonight. Wait here for fifteen seconds and walk casually across his line of sight. He'll never see me coming.” Deirdre touched her earpiece. “We are live.”
I counted to fifteen while Deirdre angled off into the crowd. Then, I turned and slowly walked parallel to where he stood. I felt his eyes on me and the smell of musk was strong, which meant the fucker was getting aroused. Memory of my assault flooded back and I fought the urge to bolt. Then, the musk smell dissipated and I no longer felt his stare.
Deirdre's yell cut through the party noise. “OH MY GOD!!! This man is having a heart attack! Someone call a doctor!”
I dared to turn, and saw Deirdre kneeling beside a prone figure. A crowd quickly formed and a cart bearing EMTs magically appeared. Soon, they were lowering a gurney and wheeling it to where he lay.
The take down happened so quickly it seemed anticlimactic. But what a relief! A kind of euphoria filled me, and I wanted to find Julia and report the success.
The party crowd was well into the thousands now, and I had no idea where to turn. So I closed my eyes, breathed in, and slowly spun in a circle.
When I caught the scent of cinnamon, I opened my eyes, and found Julia and Alcina, standing near the seafood line. Something was wrong though; where everyone else was either looking or wandering over to where the EMTs were working, Julia and Alcina were headed in the opposite direction - they were backing away from the food line with Amanda and several men. My breath caught when I recognized Richard Styles was one of them. Amanda and the men seemed to be herding Julia and Alcina somewhere.
What the hell was going on? Where were they going?
I took a deep breath …and smelled fear from Alcina.
Julia? My reading of her was crystal clear - she wanted to kill someone.
I spotted Astra and bolted to her, waving her down.
“Hey, Syd, what's up? Does the crowd around Deirdre mean what I think? Did you ID the prick?”
“Yeah, we got him, but listen, something's wrong. Julia and Alcina just left with Amanda and the dickhead security guy. They didn't want to though; Julia was royally pissed; and Alcina was terrified.”
“Styles? Shit! And Amanda Benedict you say? I wonder if the rapist was a diversion to get to Julia. You're certain she didn't want to go with them.”
“Absolutely. She was pissed."
“Holy fuck, we've got to stop them! If something happens to Julia, Project Y is screwed! And if Y is screwed, we're-
“- toast.” Yeah, I get that. Go warn Deirdre, tell her to bring her troops, girls or whatever. 'I'll track them.”
“How?”
I pointed to my nose.
“Ah! Brilliant,” Astra said. “And how will we follow you?”
“I ...hadn't thought of that.”
Astra rolled her eyes, and unclasped one of the rings from an eyebrow. “Here. It has an embedded tracking device. Wearing this was the only way Deirdre would let me go into San Francisco without a bodyguard.”
“Um…” I looked down at my dress and the truth hit me; no pockets. “Where will I put it?”
“And you only have the ear piercings, huh? Rookie.” She unclasped one of my studs and replaced it with the smaller ring. Then she stared into my eyes.
“Can I talk you out of this? Let's both go get Deirdre. We don't know anything about these guys; they could be killers.”
I shook my head. Yes, I was scared, but if I waited around any longer, I'd explode. “It's Jules, Astra. She's in trouble! She needs me!”
Astra threw up her hands. “Fine. Go. But just get near them! Stay out of sight, do you hear me? Don't do anything until Deirdre and her team arrive, unless in your male life you were a kick-ass kung fu master or you can sniff people into unconsciousness with your nose.”
“Um, nope, guess I'll rely on my killer wit.”
“Then we are well and truly screwed,” Astra said with a grin.
I shook my heels off my feet and handed them to Astra; no way was I going to chase after baddies in those puppies.
She grabbed my arm with her free hand. “Be careful, okay? I mean it, Syd.”
“I will,” I nodded, and watched Astra take off in a sprint toward Deirdre, thinking the young scientist's pink Keds high tops were being put to good use at last. Then I turned, took a deep breath…
…and followed the smell of cinnamon.
End Part 3
***
Fragrance Part 4 (Conclusion)
by Armond
Julia and Alcina have been hijacked by Amanda, GenTech's Security Chief Dick Styles, and his thugs. Sydney is hot on their scent, but they are armed and ruthless and she ...isn't. And if she can't stop them before they destroy Julia's mind, bye bye Project Y. And if Project Y fails, how much longer can humanity survive?
Author's note: for a cleaner pdf version of this story, please click here
“Who did you sell out to, Amanda? A competitor? How much did they pay you to sell your soul?”
Emotion dripped from in her voice; I had never heard Julia so bitter.
“A single competitor? Think broader, Dr. Carter,” Styles answered. “Whole industries will vanish if your gene alteration procedure becomes available on a large scale. Think mega consortium - between the health care, insurance, and elements of the religious right. Gotta hand it to you, Carter, your work is nothing if not unifying.”
I managed not to blurt out the obvious 'shit!' when I heard of the odd bedfellows aligned against us; they had no idea I was hiding here, and I damn sure needed to keep it that way.
'Here' was in a basement storage room of the GenTech Tower. I followed Julia's scent to find this bizarre scene. Aside from the dickhead security chief and Amanda, I scented musky smells from three other men. Jules and Alcina lay on the floor, with their hands tied behind them.
“Idiots!” Julia said. “Whether GenTech has my gene alteration technology, or someone else, the effect will be the same.”
I crawled forward behind a row of boxes to get closer. Barefoot and in this small lithe body, I discovered I was ninja stealthy, though my little black dress was trashed. I wasn't sure how my new found skill translated into 'save the day' help, since Styles and his three goons had Berettas in their hands and I had …well, nothing. I had no idea what kind of guns they had, but since 'Beretta' was only gun name I knew, that's what I called 'em.
I craned my neck behind me, hoping to see Deirdre and the cavalry arriving, armed with techno-geeky weapons. Thank God Styles hadn't whisked Julia away to a secret rendition location, in Yemen or somewhere, but ...what the hell were they doing?
“You still don't get it. The great Nobel prize winner is clueless about what's going down,” Styles said, smacking his lips. “Steal your work? No, Dr. Carter, we want to destroy it. You cannot imagine how wealthy we will become for shutting you down.”
“This is why betrayed your sisters,” Julia said, looking at Amanda. “For money?”
“Money is irrelevant,” Amanda spat. “My true sisters and brothers have tracked you for years. You are a cancer that must be killed. To be put down. What right have you to redesign the human race, handmaiden of Lucifer? You pervert His perfect creation with your 'procedure.' ”
“Oh dearie me, you aren't right in the head, are you child?” Alcina said. “You set up sweet Lauren and Kara …and poor Sydney- to be attacked. Shame on you.”
Shame on you? God, I loved Alcina! The moment I set foot in the MASG lab, she took me under her wing like I was her granddaughter. Even through her fear scent she had her wits; Betty White had nothing on this gal.
“I- I didn't want to, but in the end, if they had to be sacrificed to stop this unholy work, then I could live with it. With Sydney I had no choice. When she walked out, alone, it was too good to pass up. So I called Carl.”
She did set me up! And ...Carl? He was the bastard who attacked me? I gnawed on my fist to keep from screaming. I suppose it was her guilty little conscience that made her warn me to leave? And ...had she overheard us talking about my ability to categorize people by their scent so she tried to mask hers? I sat next to this snake for two days and was clueless. Some super hero I am. I'm a super idiot!
“What is ...that,” Julia's voice cut through my anger, and for the first time, I sensed fear from her. From where I crouched, I saw Styles held something shiny in his hands, but couldn't see what.
“Plan A was a kinder gentler approach,” Styles said. “All it involved was downloading a computer virus to wipe your databases, once we trailed the police into Building 'A'. No muss no fuss. And Carl was only having a bit of fun. None of his conquests suffered real harm…”
A bit of fun? Conquests? That is how dickhead described what happened to Lauren and Kara …and me- ? Anger roiled my stomach.
“…but since your little gender switched friend neutralized our pheromone spray, we abandoned that strategy…
Assaulting women is a strategy? Pigs!
“...and are forced to employ a more invasive solution. The Founder's Ball was the only time you would be in the open, and so we offered up poor ol' Carl at the party to distract Dr. Rogers and her team. Why you ask? So we could try this…”
When he held the thing up, I got a better look. It was chrome colored and horseshoe shaped with blue ends resembling headphone pads.
“…I wish I understood the science behind this nifty gizmo. It was 'borrowed' by our benefactors from one of those agencies the government denies exists. I will read you the product description, but damned if I know what it means.” *Ahem* “Calcium ion efflux from brain tissue is extremely sensitive to irradiation with radiofrequency waves. If high intensity waves are calibrated to penetrate to the hippocampus in the brain...”
“…You would instantly and severely damage it,” Julia finished the sentence. “Which would …prevent the formation of new memories and … inhibit accessing long term memory. Causing ...permanent amnesia.”
“Excellent. I am so glad you understand; I lacked the capacity to explain it. Sadly, you will too, in just a moment.”
A chill rippled down my spine as I grasped the concept; they were going to scramble Julia's brain! The thought of doing this evil to her brilliant mind made me want to puke. Why would they do this?
Almost in answer, Styles continued. “Our employers believe, if we cannot destroy the external GAP project data, the only other way to halt it is to corrupt your amazing gray matter. At the end of the day, you are GAP, Dr. Carter. Killing you would produce the desired result, but it is an inelegant solution, and one that invites too much scrutiny. Now, suppose you have a ...lab accident ...in which you and your colleague are alive, but -ah, how best to put this- permenantly stupid? How tragic! OSHA arrives to investigate, GenTech's stock plummets, and GAP dies an instant death.”
“Please …you can't … you don't understand…” Julia's voice was begging now. “…more is at stake here than GAP! My team has uncovered a virus that threatens the future of humanity. We can fix it, but not if you destroy my mind. Amanda, you will be able to understand this-”
“A humanity killing virus? And only you can save us? You are delusional,” Amanda said. “You are the disease and we have the cure with us. Mr. Styles, will you please reformat her brain?”
“As you wish. I press this button like so, and thirty seconds later it is good to go. Five seconds on your head and bye bye GAP.”
Julia screamed and fought to pull away, but two of the goons held her down. When Alcina kicked at them, the third thug backhanded her.
25 seconds.
I smelled roses and turned.
Deirdre and her team were creeping into the storage room.
Thank God!
I started to wave. Then it hit me …aw fuck!
20 seconds left.
Julia's brain would be mush before they got here!
Stall! Stand up! Sing! Do jumping jacks!
No! These assholes must never put that thing on her.
15 seconds.
A nearby box was crammed with blue trophies etched with 'Safety First At GenTech.'
Think, Sydney, think!
10 seconds
In slow motion, Styles lifted the scrambler' to Julia's head.
Wait! I had a plan. It would delay long enough for Deirdre's team to engage...
5 seconds.
…and stop Styles cold.
Downside?
I was going to die.
I blew out a breath…
grabbed a trophy…
And ran.
It wasn't like I was brave. No no no …I was scared out of my brains.
I heard somewhere once, if you go into a knife fight thinking you wouldn't get cut, you usually ended up dead. The idea was when you are cut, you freeze from the unexpected shock, and that proves fatal. But if you expected it, you wouldn't freeze.
So, could the same work for me? Since I was sure to die, when it happened, I wouldn't be thrown off, right? No …that made no sense …because then I'm dead!
Time started acting funny; everything s-l-o-w-e-d:
Julia … thrashed and struggled to get away.
The thugs …gripped her arms.
Styles …lowered the halo to her head.
And I …
running at full speed…
grabbed it.
I ran four strides, hit the concrete floor, and dropped the pulsing thing. I raised the trophy over my head.
Shouts of “stop her!” and “shoot her!” echoed in my ears.
Hornet stings smacked my chest as my arms started their downward arc, but momentum carried me on. I hammered with everything I had.
Yeah, I know I'm a 'smell gal', but that crunch was the best sound I ever heard.
I scented ozone, fried circuitry, gunpowder ...and blood. That's when the pain exploded and I crumpled to the floor. When I did, rotten fish smell slammed me. Styles!
“You cunt!”
He yanked me up by my hair, and pain burned my chest.
“You're stunt has done nothing except ensure we kill them. But first, I will terminate Dr. Carter's experiment with you ...now.”
Something hard pressed against the base of my skull and I heard metal clicking.
“Good bye Ms. Edwards.”
I hated that his foul reek filled my last living moments, but we don't control these things, I guess.
Something weird happened next. Styles ...fell over, and face smacked the concrete. His eyes rolled back into his head and I saw a dart hanging from his neck.
“Sydney!” Deirdre's voice cut through my pain.
I raised as much as I could, and saw Amanda and Styles' men sprawled on the ground. Deirdre was running to me and Julia was struggling to crawl over too. The room decided to spin, so I closed my eyes.
Words danced in my ears, jumbling together.
“Why didn't you wait? We were right behind you!”
"She was doing it to save me.”
“He shot her three times.”
“Get the EMTs here STAT.”
Someone was crying.
After a moment, I realized it was me.
A new scent filled my mind.
I had been around terminally ill people before, and knew their odor of decay and rot was the scent of dying. But now, I caught a different aroma, one I can only describe as fierce and swift.
Ha! If I was back in the MASG lab, Alcina would be 'tsk'ing me, saying 'fierce and swift are not odor categories, dearie.' But those were the best words I had to describe Death's breath.
Blackness blanketed me; I was soooo tired and wanted to let go.
“Sydney! Stay with us! Look at me.”
I pried my eyes open and looked up at the terrified faces of Julia and Deirdre. Then I glanced over at my blinking watch: 16:43. How cruel; minutes ago, sixteen hours seemed too short, but now? I'd give anything for half the time.
“Don't think I gonna need my pumpkin count down watch anymore.” I tried to laugh but coughed blood instead.
“That's it? You're giving up?”
I wasn't sure who said it, but what the hell?
“What are you talking about?” I spluttered. “I did good here, right?”
“So you're a one hit wonder?”
“Hey! I'm ...dying and you're insulting me?”
It was hard to think through the pain, but this was just wrong.
“Yeah, because you are not dying, dammit, do you hear me? You. Will. Not Die!”
That was Julia speaking. Definitely her.
“If you weren't bitching about a few pinpricks, I'd throw you over my knee and spank you again.”
And Deirdre.
“What ...do you ...want from me?”
“To live Syd. We need you! We love you. Stay with us.”
“I'll ...try...”
TUESDAY 11:25 A.M., GENTECH BUILDING 'A', INFIRMARY ROOM 1
bleach ...rubbing alcohol ...linen ...poppies ...metallic iron ...floral...
...and cinnamon.
My fuzzy brain tried to puzzle it together - disinfectant, sterilization, sheets, morphine, blood, flower bouquets and ...Julia?
So, I wasn't in heaven or hell, unless either place smelled like a hospital room.
I opened my eyes, to see Julia's head laying on my bed, a slight snore sawing from her mouth. To my right was an IV drip; whatever the bag held was the good shit, because I felt zippy.
“Hey, Jules.” I croaked more than spoke.
Her eyes popped open. “Syd?”
She reached for a hug, thought better of it, and opted to stroke my face.
“I thought I lost you. You almost died and-”
“-what …happened?”
“They ...tried to to microwave my brain and you took bullets to stop them. You saved me, Syd.”
Bullets? Good to know; I thought a flamenco dance troupe had done a number on my chest.
What day was it?
I tried to raise my wrist to look at my watch, but I was too weak.
“Mmm …time?”
“Your watch is gone. The conversion deadline came and went days ago. You were too injured to attempt the reversal.”
The drug wore off a bit at that news, and I tried to remember consequences.
So I'm ...stuck in this body? Unless you give me the DNA of some random guy?”
She shook her head. “I wasn't truthful with you. I know you, Syd. I created the doomsday scenario about you not being able to revert to your original male form so you would pay attention to the deadline. Though we cannot now use the reversal formula, there is no reason we can't overwrite with your original DNA. The real issue is nanite poisoning; you see, the second batch interacts with the first in a mutative way we don't understand …yet. But the beauty...”
The morphine made my brain think she was talking to me through a tin can, but I got the sense of her words. She tricked me to take this seriously? I truly needed to upgrade my credibility.
“...of the reversal serum was it used the nanites of the first serum to 'reverse' their actions. No waiting needed. The replicated X chromosome is deactivated, and the deactivated Y is reactivated. Now we must wait until your body flushes the first nanite batch away before we introduce a new batch.”
Flushes away? That didn't sound like it would take too long. Ya know, like a toilet flush, whoosh, bye bye little nanites. “Which means…?”
“It varies from person to person, but 2 to 3 years.”
“Oh.” Crap! That was a long whoosh.
“Unless…”
“Mmmm?”
“Plan B-”
“-From Outer Space?” I giggled. This IV bag stuff was amazing.
“It's Plan 9, dear.” Julia looked at the bag. “How much of this are you understanding?”
I yawned; I was sooo tired. “Enough, Jules. What's Plan 9 …er B?”
Julia's eyes narrowed. “You knew you'd be shot trying to stop them from frying my brain and you did it anyway. Why?”
“Dunno…I-”
“-did it because of Project Y, yes? To sacrifice yourself for the good of the many?”
I snorted. “Wish I was so noble. No, deep down I am supremely selfish. I don't want to live on an earth that doesn't have you in it.”
“Even though I'm an evil mad scientist?”
“Evil no, but mad scientist?” I tilted my head to the side. “My grand pappy used to say 'always dance with the mad scientist what brung ye.'”
“He never said any such thing and you know it.”
I shrugged, which sent a pain stab across my chest; gotta remember not to do that.
“He might have. He said things like 'you can't catch no possum if you ain't got no bait,' or 'this country's turning into a goat rodeo.' Once he saw me practicing a new dance, and said I looked like a monkey fucking a football. So he sure could have said it.”
“Monkey fucking a…” Julia burst into laughter. “Stop it, dammit, just stop! I'm trying to be serious and you are …well you're you. Here, let me show you the kind of mad scientist I am.”
She pulled a fancy looking phone from her lab coat pocket and held it up.
“He's cute.”
I can say things like cute and darling, right? Stranded as I am in this female form.
“Yes, she is. 'Carli' is one of our newest additions to the herd.”
So, why was she showing me this now? Unless …Carli …the name sounded familiar. Bits and pieces of conversations my stay at GenTech bubbled up. About body mass and what we would wish on our worst enemies…
“I'll give you another hint. Kara and Lauren helped with the procedure. It was a catharsis for them. I would have let you help too, if you weren't injured.”
“That's …Carl? The rapist?”
Julia nodded, and watched my reaction. “She, Mandy and Richarda joined the herd Sunday. Whatever else you think, Syd, I do believe in the sanctity of life. I will not kill my enemies, even though they would murder me and mine without a moment's hesitation. Their forms aren't permanent; when it's safe, when we complete Project Y, we'll convert them back.”
“How are they ...coping?”
“All indications are good. Our past experiments have shown their 'human intellect' is mostly dormant; they will dimly remember the experience. Also,” Julia's lips carved a crooked smile, “they are popular with the herd at the moment.”
“Popular? How so?”
“Oddly enough, all three are in heat and are …very busy.” Julia said. She leaned close. “How do you feel about me now?”
Oh, wow! I tried to digest this …development. Part of me recoiled at the idea of being turned into a dumb animal; it reminded me of those Greek myths where people transformed into all sorts of horror creatures.
Then, another part of my mind chimed: justice was served.
I took a deep breath …and smelled cinnamon.
Julia still registered clean by my instincts. Hell, maybe I'm evil. Because I knew I could live with what she had done, and would do again.
“It's not the best news I've heard, but …I'm on your team no matter what. You said it the other day; we are family, Jules. Heh! Family jewels, get it?”
She flashed a mischievous grin back. “I believe your 'family jewels' are still missing, Syd, which brings me to Plan B. Let's keep it that way; don't get changed back, ever. I need you here with me on a full time basis.”
I wasn't sure what she was offering…a job, maybe? “I'd be your personal assistant?”
“Worse, “she said, putting her hand on my face; stroking it. “I want to adopt you, officially. I want to be your mother. I've been thinking about it …well, I won't tell you for how long, or you will accuse me of orchestrating this whole thing.”
Jules wanted to be my mother?
Not just in a kidding around way, but in the legal, 'change last name to Carter' sense? I was two when my birth mother died, and though Dad was great, I always had a huge hole in me. My mouth must have flopped open, because she laughed.
“Why, Syd, you're speechless; I wish I had filmed it. It's a big decision; take time to think it over.”
Did I want her as a mother?
Hell yes.
Did I want to be a woman for the rest of my life? Well ...I wasn't sure. But I didn't need to cross -or burn- that bridge now.
See, in their quest to save humanity, these poor loveable brainiacs were clueless they had opened Pandora's Box. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but someday soon, my friends here would solve their nanite problem, lower the cost for the procedure, and gender changes would be available to all; an every day event. If we survived the degenerative Y crisis, it was going to be a vastly different society that soldiered into the future.
Maybe we'll choose to be male or female at different times in our lives; someone might be female in her twenties and male in his thirties.
Hell, for all I knew, someone could choose to be male during the week and female on the weekend.
I tried to imagine wedding ceremonies: Do you take this man and/or woman to be your lawfully wedded husband and/or wife?
The bedrock of sexuality was going to change.
And the implications of the ability to switch species? Don't even get me started on that one!
So, no, I didn't see the pressing need to commit to being a male or female human for the rest of my life. Since I'd been a man for 27 years and a woman for little over a week, I ought to give the XX life style a try for a while. It wasn't like I had a choice, for the next few years, anyway, so why not take advantage of the benefits?
I saw lots of benefits:
First, I would keep the amazing sense ability unique to this body. I would continue to be Nose Girl - able to smell tall buildings in a single sniff.
Then there was Deirdre.
And Julia.
“Yes.”
“Yes?!”
Score! It was her turn to look gobsmacked over my nanosecond decision.
“Oops. Sorry, I forgot to say the magic word. Yes, please.”
The humor drained from Julia's face. “I was serious, Sydney.”
“Me, too, Mommy.”
She threw her arms around me, and yeah, it hurt, but the meds still hummed away, so it wasn't too bad. Not when you consider the tradeoff - the Nobel prize winning savior of the world was balling all over me. Okay, fine. I was weepy too.
“It won't be easy; we've got a lot on our plate.” Julia rolled her eyes. “Okay, maybe 'a lot on our plate' isn't the best metaphor to describe saving humanity, but you get my drift. I'll give you a week to laze in the bed -we've developed an experimental treatment that will speed your recovery time and leave no scars- and then it's back to work for you. We have enemies out there, Amanda and Styles' mysterious employer, so the danger is not even close to over. I'm going to lean on you for support and-.”
A head full of pink hair thrust into the doorway.
“Good, you're alive. Deirdre made me swear to call her the instant you woke, so I'm gonna dial it in.”
“Love you too, Astra.”
“Aw, poor baby, I'm mad for you . Now get well soon, so we can play. Oh, someone else wants to say hello too.”
A dark suited and grinning man walked into the room. The man who shot me three times and almost put a fourth bullet in my brain.
“Julia? What's he doing here?” I growled, backing up against my headboard.
“Oh dearie, I wanted to thank you for saving my life, but instead I've given you a fright,” he said.
Something was off here. I was sure Julia said dickhead Styles was munching grass, but here he stood. Except …he no longer reeked of rotten fish.
“Mother? What. is going. on?”
“Don't tell her, Julia,” Astra said. “Let's see how good Nose Girl's superpower is.”
This was getting weird, but okay. I took a deep breath and smelled …brandied cherries. And he'd said dearie.
Oh. My. God!
“Al-cina?”
“Clever girl,” Julia said. “But call him Richard, in public, please. Alcina graciously volunteered. We solved two problems by overwriting her DNA with Styles'. First, we don't have to explain the disappearance of GenTech's Security Chief. And second, it gives us a chance to find out more about the shadow group that tried to shut us down.”
“I thought I would be used to the change but I still feel like a spring chicken,” the 'new' Styles said, flexing his arm.
“And what happened to those thugs with Styles and Mandy? Are they …did you…”
Julia cleared her throat. “They joined GenTech's growing ostrich pride…
Ostriches?
“…The remaining members of Alcina's bridge club offered to take their places,” Julia said.
“You rest up, missy” Styles said. “Once you are well, I want to thank you properly for saving me. I'm a widow ...er widower …er …whatever I am, my memories are precious to me. I am indebted to you.”
When I managed to mumble 'yeah sure', new Styles turned to Astra and smiled. “Are we still on for tonight, dearie?”
“Yup. 7:00 o'clock. What are we going to do,” Astra said, fiddling with one of her piercings.
“I thought we would dine together and then you would accompany me to a movie.”
Wait. Wait a goddamn minute! Astra and Alcina/Styles were old-fashioned dating? I reached over and thumped my IV bag.
“Why did you do that?” Julia asked.
“I needed a morphine hit; this is way too much weirdness to take in sober.”
Our laughter was interrupted by the scent of roses.
Deirdre burst into the room, breathing hard. Had she been running?
“Why don't we step outside,” Julia said to Astra and Styles. After the couple left, Julia leaned near me and whispered,
“Deirdre's been by your side as much as I have. She doesn't know you've already agreed to be my daughter. She's been working on a speech for days to convince you to stay 'Sydney.' I'd play it for all it's worth, daughter,” Julia said. She kissed my head and then left, closing the door behind her.
Deirdre moved next to my bed and her bright eyes were nervous. Hmmm.
“How are you feeling?”
“Okay...”
I looked down and tried to flutter my eyelashes; having never done this before, I didn't know if the effect worked.
“You've been shot ...nearly killed, and I know Julia told you how things are with your conversion. So, no, you are not okay, and don't pretend you are. Are you in pain?”
I shrugged, which of course did send pain burning across my chest, so hot it -literally- brought tears to my eyes. Dammit! When am I going to remember not to do that?
“So a big 'yes' to that one,” she said, stroking my cheek with her hand. “Brave thing you did, Syd.”
“Yeah ...brave.”
I tried to sound lost, which wasn't a stretch. You don't have something like this happen to you a bounce up all bright and happy.
“Hey ...it's going to be alright.” She ran a hand through my hair. “No ...it's going to be better.”
“Deirdre ...” I went for the doe-eyed look this time. “What am I going to do now?”
She pulled my head to her breasts and kissed the top of my head. Which would have been great, except for the -OUCH- pain it triggered.
“Give me a chance, love, ...give us a chance, and I'll show you a life worth living. I know you don't want to hear me say I'm glad you can't go back to your old body, but I am. I think I'm in love with you ...you are so bright and lovely. Funny too; I will even admit I like your twisted sense of humor, and....”
Let it never be said I am too sadistic and cruel. Oh, I let her drone on a little longer about my greatness, but then -pain be damned- I grabbed her face, pulled it to mine, and shut her up with a kiss.
When we broke for air, she said, “so that's a yes?”
Someday soon I would tell her my 'yes' moment came when she stuck her head in my room. Which will probably earn me some spanks. Hmm, sounds fun.
I could have answered 'yes' back, but Deirdre was a project I needed to get to work on immediately. My mensa girlfriend -or maybe my partner? We'd have to see where this went- spent way too much time analyzing in her head. Sure as Nose Girl, I would open her mind and body to the sensual and sensuous world of fragrance. But I mustn’t forget the other senses, at this moment ...touch and taste.
I pulled her to me for another kiss.
Epilogue
TUESDAY 12:00 P.M., GENTECH TOWER, CONFERENCE ROOM T802
'Spiffy' best describes how I looked in my Chef's hat and shirt.
I almost certainly violated state food handler's regulations by failing to wear a hairnet, but in less than three months after my conversion,'vanity' had become my middle name. No way would I imprison my beautiful hair.
“Lunch is served,” I announced, as I wheeled the cart into the conference room.
Big pow wow going on here, the room was filled with mighty chiefs.
From GenTech's side was Burt Thompson, the EVP of Product Development, Julia, Deirdre and Astra from Building A, and the GenTech CEO himself, Rob Pattison -no relation to the vamp playing actor-.
EarthShell LLC, was represented by their CEO, Jack somebody, and Tom Haskins, who headed up their marketing group.
Why the meeting? The joint venture papers had been signed a week ago, and this was a 'feel good' follow up.
GenTech and EarthShell had found the holy grail of the food container industry, by developing a compostable substitute for styrene and polystyrene food containers. In the rush to go green, MacDonalds and Walmart were lining up to order.
The secret, as the say, is in the sauce. Or rather, it's in the nanites.
I cleared my throat, “Gentlemen and Ladies, I have four kinds of paninis; the Napa Valley, the North Beach, the Rotisserie California Club, and the Santa Cruz. You'll find an assortment of gourmet chips, several colors of ice cold Jones Soda and a pile of obscenely large chocolate chunk cookies, still gooey and warm. Please help yourselves.”
I wouldn't call what happened next a stampede, but plates filled fast. Everyone dug in except Julia, who sat looking at me. I wandered over to her, took a deep sniff, and popped one of her chips in my mouth.
I noticed Mr. Haskins giving me a strange look; Julia noticed too, and smiled at him.
“I should explain Sydney's cheeky behavior. She's my daughter, you see.”
The 'ah-ha' light went on in Haskins' head and he grinned. “My daughter is a few years older, Dr. Carter, so I think I know what you are going through.”
Actually, he had no idea what Julia was going through. Her paranoia had worsened over the last months, but this wasn't an earth-shattering development. I mean, knowing a shadowy cabal actually is out there trying to devise gizmos to scramble your brains would turn the sanest person paranoid. I was helping her hold it together, though.
One way I gave her peace of mind, was to sniff her food for poison. I haven't found any yet, but when I detected e coli taint in two separate dishes from the 'GenTech Eats Healthy' cafe, I spent some 'quality time' with our chef. One thing led to another, and now I'm co-running it.
At least I got rid of the stupid name. Once I re-jigged the menu to serve more corporate functions like today's love-in, I knew 'GenTech Eats Healthy' had to go. I toyed with calling it Pastabilities, and Wok-N-Roll before settling on 'The Deli Lama.' Nearby companies have started ordering from us as well; we're on our way to becoming a profit center.
“You must be so proud of your mother. Are you following in her footsteps?” CEO Jack said.
He was a genial white haired fellow, whose eyes enjoyed roaming my face. I didn't mind; over the past months I've accepted it; I'm cute. From 'Jack', I received the scent of fresh cut sawdust, which I equated with honesty; don't ask me why.
I gave him an emphatic head bob and smiled at Jules.
“I'm trying, but Mother's got huge shoes to fill. Er …but by that I don't mean she has big feet.”
When the room erupted with laughter, I turned beet red. This wasn't a laugh I had been going for.
“I get your meaning, young lady. You are, what 18? 19? You obviously work here; do you plan to go to college someday?”
“I've started an undergrad course online. I'm getting a BS in Biology.” I glanced over at Julia. “We'll see what happens after that.”
“Excellent!” Jack said. “I'm an 'old schooler', and wonder if the lack of 'live' time with a teacher makes online courses harder.”
“Not in her case,” Julia answered. “She has a dozen 'tutors' here who prep her with tests of their own. The online exams are a cakewalk for Syd after that.”
Laughter filled the room again, but I didn't mind; it was true! Deirdre was the worst; she spanked me for each wrong answer. Which usually led to other things. Mmmmm.
When lunch ended, I gathered the plates and trash so the meeting could continue. If Jack and Tom thought the discussions were over my head, they'd be wrong. This whole idea of partnering with EarthShell? My brainchild.
Project Y was in full swing: Marge and the combined GAP/MASG teams devoured the data I generated in my MASG tests. When they combined the findings with their gene mapping work, they identified a stable gene to transfer the Y sex traits to. Julia figured if this project wasn't secret, Marge's work would have earned her a Noble for sure. Then Julia and Astra proved their brilliance by designing a virus to work the transfer.
But we still needed to find a vehicle to mass release our counter virus into the population. I got to thinking, could nanites be programed to deliver our virus? Could dormant nanites be blended with other compounds, oh, say, the components that go into a Big Mac container box, and further, could the nanites be activated by a substance like ...hot grease? Then, once activated, the nanites would migrate into the Bic Mac, which would in turn go into...
Well ...you see where this is headed; Deirdre built the nanites to do just that. We convinced EarthShell that only we -hint, 50% joint venture profit share = happy happy GenTech CEO- could provide the additives and catalysts needed to make the boxes biodegrade.
Once EarthShell pitched the product to the market, MacDonalds practically kicked down EarthShell's factory doors to place orders. To be shipped to every single MacDonalds on the globe.
This is my biggest Score! ever. Oh, the irony; if all goes well, we will be saving humanity through fast food!
We have other delivery methods too; Julia's genetically engineered rice will contain the counter virus, so we get third world coverage.
Project Y is greenlight to go and our counter virus hits earth in the coming months. We have high hopes, best guess is the fertility rate will continue to dip from degenerative Y for a while, but will rebound once our virus takes hold. And -bonus!- there is only a 7.28% chance our virus will mutate into something that could bring an zombie apocalypse. Inspires confidence, no?
As I wheeled the lunch cart out the conference room, I glanced over at Deirdre, mouthed later, and blew a kiss. When she mouthed oh yeah back, I saw Astra snicker. She's giving me and Deirdre shit? Right. Her affair with Alcina/Styles is so mind-numbing, Freud himself is clawing his way out of his grave to analyze them.
Thing is, our relationships are the tip of the iceberg. Just last week, one of our scientists petitioned Julia for her marine biologist sister. Seems her sister wanted to 'get closer to her work', and asked if the GAP team could convert her into a hybrid dolphin/human. To become a mermaid for God's sake! I have no idea whether Mother will agree, but one thing's certain - we are open for business, and nothing will be the same again.
How will we cope?
Kipling once said, 'smell is surer than sight or sound' and I know it's true. We can't rely on our eyes, because now, anyone could be anyone. And we can't trust our hearing, because the fabulous lies of men travel straight from their lips to our ears.
My advice?
Go outside. Close your eyes. Take a deep breath.
You might smell something horrible; perhaps the neighbor's dog left you a darling gift in your lawn.
Or you'll breath something fabulous, like the intoxicating fragrance of rose petals that surrounds me when I'm with my love.
Or you may get nothing; smell is our most underdeveloped sense, after all.
But use it. Work it. Rely on it, because, if I’ve learned one thing, it is smell never lies.
Until next time, this is Nose Girl signing off, and reminding you to always stand down wind.
Dammit! No matter how much I dress it up, my superhero 'Nose Girl' name is, and will always be, stupid!
Sigh.