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JUSTICE FOR ROBIN by Susan Fantasy CHAPTER ONE: TROUBLE IN THE BUSBIE CLAN 1. Tennis pro turned math teacher Dr. Busbie's forty-one year old Lesbianite sister, Helen, was a very attractive woman. The slight Mongol element she had that came from a Russian ancestor was hardly noticeable; it was not nearly as evident as it was in the case of her brother. Not that this would necessarily spoil her looks if it showed, for Eurasian people can be good looking - and her brother was by no means ugly. But at five feet seven inches she lacked the short stature that typically comes with Eurasian blood - (her brother only stood the same height as she); and Helen's eyes were fairly large and wonderfully blue. She was enviously endowed regarding her bosom, she was thin in the waist, and generally, both in terms of face and figure, along with skin, hair and teeth, she was an outstanding beauty. Though she never dressed effeminately - she always wore jeans, usually with a loose fitting t-shirt - single heterosexual men of her age group who knew Helen Busbie invariable reflected on what a shame it was that she had turned out a lesbian. Helen Busbie, who was born with athletic talent in addition to her good looks, and had played on the women's pro tennis circuit in her youth until a shoulder injury had cut short her career as a pro player, taught math at a Lesbianite friendly high school in San Francisco and owned a modest house in a Lesbianite friendly sector of the city. 2. Dr. Busbie must see his sister The year was 2030. It was a Saturday morning, the month was December, the annual rainy season of the region had begun, and though it was not raining that morning the sky was overcast and the air was damp with fog. The weather perfectly matched Helen Busbie's mood. She wished her brother were not coming to visit her for she wanted badly to spend the day alone. Since Thursday there had been a manhunt ongoing for a suspected serial killer named Frank Baron. This manhunt was a major story in the local news and was the primary thing being talked about in Lesbianite circles - since Baron's victims, seven in number, had all been Lesbianite transsexual children from the city and from nearby Berkeley. And Helen Busbie's fifteen year old transsexual daughter, Robin, (whose age had been reduced two years when she was transsexed, so that officially her age was thirteen), had been one of Baron's victims - as the police felt certain. Naturally all the news and talk about the manhunt was very unsettling for Helen. She wished to spend the day alone thinking of her Robin, who had been missing since the last week of August and was presumed to be dead; and she felt angry with her brother, for she had told him when he had called on the phone at nine that morning that she strongly wished to deal with his problems on some other day; and she had more than hinted at why; yet he had insisted on coming over, saying he needed to talk to her in person and it absolutely could not wait. She felt pretty sure she knew what her brother's concern was about. The Holocaust Museum in Washington, DC, had been bombed in mid September. Killed were sixty-four Jewish high school students who were there on a field trip, along with twenty-three other people who were there. She felt pretty sure her brother was suspected of involvement in this bombing - and that this was what he so urgently needed to talk to her about. Helen was fond of her brother, who was two years her junior. The two had been very close from the time they were children. She was alienated by some of his political beliefs - he held that gays, lesbians, and transsexuals were "degenerate" - and she was deeply angry with him about the effect that these beliefs had had on Robin. When Robin had been a boy and had been close to him (his Uncle Bob) and his son, Roy, from whom exposure to these beliefs had come, he had come to feel a deep sense of shame about himself, if not a self loathing. And this had led to disaster in Robin's life as a male. Even so, she felt committed to help her brother. They were and always would be close friends. But she felt it had been very selfish of him to insist upon seeing her about these problems of his on this day when she so naturally wished for solitude in which to mourn Robin and when he knew she had wanted this. 3. Robert is stressed Dr. Busbie, who lived twenty minutes away in a fairly exclusive section of the city, arrived at his sister's house a little before ten that Saturday morning. The doorbell rang, and Helen walked slowly to the door and opened it - and she was so shocked by the spectacle of her brother that she gasped and drew back. Robert Busbie had been impeccably groomed and a smart dresser from the time he had been a boy in grammar school; and as an adult being well groomed and well dressed had a moral significance - he considered this a duty to others, as it was an indication of his respect for them. Yet there he stood before her as dirty and disheveled as the bums one sees sleeping on park benches. In addition he was obviously drunk. "Bobby, my God!" Helen said under her breath while holding one hand to her heart. "Get your coat. Let's take a walk," he said. She did as he requested and as they walked down her driveway to the sidewalk he said, "Your house may be bugged." "Why would that be?" she responded. "Let me guess. You are a suspect in the bombing of the Holocaust Museum." "Well, I'm not officially a suspect yet. But Tuesday a NACBI agent came to my office; and I was driven to their headquarters downtown and was interrogated for three hours. In addition they went to the house and took Roy's and my computers; also they took the one from my office." For a time they walked down the street through the cool air that was damp with fog, saying nothing. Then Robert asked, "What made you suspect this?" "Two things. At the time of the bombing you knew some things about it that weren't knowable to the public. And ever since the bombing you've been visibly worried about something." "What did I know that wasn't public?" "Remember, you were at my house just a few hours after the bombing story broke, and we watched coverage of it on TV. Right away you said, 'They killed the children to get Congress to pass the hate speech legislation that's been introduced.' And you added, 'They could have done it at night when the building was empty.' I said, 'Maybe the bomb's timing device malfunctioned. Or maybe there was an AM/PM mistake in its setting.' You said, 'No, the bomb was delivered by a large model airplane. Whoever launched it certainly knew the time of day.' I asked, 'How could a model airplane carry a bomb big enough for all that devastation? Look, they said it was an enormous explosion and windows were shattered four blocks away.' You answered, 'It's a super high tech bomb called a "barometric bomb." It's called a barometric bomb because when it goes off it causes a terrific increase in barometric pressure. That's why it breaks windows so much.' I asked, 'How do you know all this?' You said, 'It's on the Internet.' And from your voice and the look in your eyes I knew you were lying. You've never been able to lie to me, you know." 4. Robert Confesses She continued, "After you left I got on the Internet and searched for information about the bombing. I found nothing about a high tech bomb being delivered by a model airplane. Nothing about a barometric bomb. Nothing about an airplane. And don't worry. I was careful not to say anything about this information I got from you to anyone else. Now then, as to the second thing, the fact that I could tell that you were worried about something, at first I hoped that you were just worried that this big media event would pressure Congress into passing the hate speech legislation. Then Congress voted against this legislation but you continued to be as worried as before. So, putting two and two together, I figured you were worried about the NACBI suspecting you for involvement in the bombing. Were you involved?" "I assembled the bomb." Helen sighed. They walked a ways in silence. "Why you?" Helen asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "A barometric bomb is a dangerous and difficult thing to assemble," he answered. "It takes someone with a real good pair of hands. I am a surgeon." Again they walked a ways in silence, then he said, "Listen, sis, there's a good chance I will have to 'off' it. That's one of the reasons I need to see you." 5. It is war; they are not so nice Robert suggested they go to the tennis courts at Golden Gate Park, where they could talk while sitting down. They got in his Cadillac to go to the courts. Helen drove, since he was pretty drunk. Robert turned on the radio as they drove along, and they heard breaking news that the manhunt for Frank Baron had just come to an end. Baron had just been shot dead in a gun battle with the police. "That's good," he remarked. "Why is it good?" she asked. "If they took him alive maybe he'd of said what he did with Robin's body." "I'll explain when we get to the courts," he said. The tennis facility at Golden Gate Park was the largest and best public court facility in North America Central. There were eighteen courts. Also, there was a spacious clubhouse where there were numerous couches, chairs and tables; and the clubhouse also had men's and women's dressing rooms with showers. This tennis facility had been built in the early part of the previous century. No public tennis facility that came remotely close to equaling it in terms of size and overall quality had been built in North America Central for numerous decades. At the courts the two seated themselves on a bench where there was no one in earshot and pretended to watch an ongoing match between two pretty good men players. Robert's remark about suicide had begun to sink into Helen. She contemplated her brother's face thinking this may be one of the last times she would see it. She observed his high, prominent cheekbones, his narrow green eyes, his thinning and graying blond hair, and the scantiness of the beard of his several days' growth - he only had beard growth above his upper lip and on his chin. "You know what they do to the sons and grandsons of a convicted terrorist?" Robert began. "If they are over eighteen they send them to a labor camp that they will never come out of - and where they are usually worked to death within three years. If they are eighteen or younger, and aren't too large or bulky with muscle, they transsex them, then stick them in an ideological reconditioning facility, which is an annex of an insane asylum, for a minimum of five years. They call that being humane - since otherwise the boy would need to be sent to a labor camp for life. "In part, I guess, their concern is that a boy with natural loyalty to a father or grandfather who is a terrorist is likely to grow up to be a terrorist too. But mostly, I think, the idea is to intimidate whoever gives thought to terrorism by implanting the notion that if he does this and gets caught all of his male offspring will pay a terrible price. Anyhow, these ideological reconditioning facilities where they lock up the boys they've transsexed are not places where you'd want a child you loved to be. These poor transsexuals get raped every day, among other things." 6. Roy to be Robin "Which brings me to the gist of what I have to say to you now - what it is that we must talk about," he continued. "The prospect of death is not what I fear. No one wants to live more than I do - yet the likely nearness of my death is something that I am able to deal with. What I cannot deal with though is the thought of Roy being transsexed and put in one of those ideological reconditioning centers for five years. "And in the last few days I have devised a plan by which to mitigate the horror of Roy's probable future. This is to have him assume Robin's identity. "Roy and Robin were the same age and almost the same size. And they looked a lot alike, both having high cheekbones, small green eyes, and blond hair - the main difference in their appearances was that Roy looked by far the younger. "If I gave Roy a sex change and a girl's face like the one you had given to Robin only the few people who knew Robin intimately would disbelieve that Roy the transsexual was not she, if that was what you told them. "You could say that a couple of days after the news of Baron's death Robin showed up at your house - Baron had her locked up someplace and she escaped. You didn't tell the police about this because Robin was so traumatized by her experience that all the publicity that would ensue from the news of her escape would be too hard on her. And no good would be served by telling the police because Baron was already dead, and a dead man can no longer do harm to society, and you can't execute a dead man either. "I have a political friend who is a psychologist. I have discussed this plan with him. If anyone asks he will say that you brought Robin to see him right after she returned to your house after her ordeal with Baron, who raped her and treated her in all manner of cruelty, and he told you the best thing for Robin was rest and if possible a new setting where no one knew her. "So you take the newly transsexed Roy-Robin to a cabin in the woods that a friend of mine uses for fishing in the summer, and keep him there, where he will encounter no one besides you, for a few months, while he gets used to being a girl, and learns somewhat how to talk, walk, and act like one. Then take him, now a her, and go live in Geneva, Illinois - where you had planned to go live with your Robin before she disappeared. The only people in Geneva who knew the real Robin are your friend Laura Blake and her transsexual daughter, Tommi-Sue, right? And they haven't seen her for a year - and Robin was still a boy then, right? And she still had her boy's face then, right?" "Bobby, I believe you may be thinking out of desperation more than clear logic," said Helen. "I highly doubt if we can give Robin's social identity to Roy and get away with it. For instance, what about the dental records?" "I've already switched them. My political friends found me a guy who used to be a burglar. I paid him to break into the two dentists' offices and switch Roy's and Robin's dental records." "How do you know the police haven't made a copy of Robin's dental records - so they can identify her body if they find it?" "I've checked on that. The procedure is to find the body first. If they find a body they think may be Robin's, then they will obtain her dental records but not before then. Another thing I've checked on is blood type. I had my burglar guy pay a visit to Robin's doctor's office. Robin had the same blood type as Roy. Sis, I've considered everything. We can give Roy Robin's identity and get away with it. Unless Robin's body turns up, that is. Then there will be a dead transsexual with Roy's teeth. But the police think Baron deposited the missing bodies of his victims deep in the sea - they have learned that Baron had a boat. So it is highly unlikely that Robin's body will be found." Helen interjected, "The police think Robin's body has been deposited in the ocean? The police haven't told me about that. How do you know this?" "Through my political friends. Some of the comrades are cops." "God, his body has probably been eaten by fish!" "Sorry if I am upsetting you, sis. But look at it this way: All dead bodies get eaten by something - microbes, worms, maggots from flies - unless they're mummified, that is. You didn't plan to mummify Robin, did you? So, you see, when you think about it, it makes no difference if it was fish that ate her. But let's get back to my plan. Roy is going to replace your Robin. Though it will not be the same person, you will once again have a transsexual daughter. That is something for you to be happy about, right?" Helen stopped thinking about fish and briefly pictured Roy in a dress. "Boy, all this is so sudden it's making my head spin," she said. "I still feel there must be some problems with this - I mean, switching people's identities is such a big thing. Tell me, how do you intend to give Roy a sex change operation without the world knowing about it?" "I have a political friend who has an animal hospital. With this guy as my assistant I'll do the job in the operating room of this animal hospital." "Bobby, do you realize that a SRS procedure takes six hours? How can you perform a six hour surgery without an anesthesiologist, and without all the various backup facilities of a real hospital, in case something goes wrong?" "Sure, it'll be risky. Actually, I expect to work on him for nine hours, for I will do the face too. Yeah, it's risky, it's real risky. There's a good chance he'll die. If that happens we'll chop up the corpse and cremate the pieces in the crematorium my friend uses for dead dogs and cats. But you know, Helen, I have a lot of faith in myself as a surgeon. I honestly feel I can pull the thing off with happy results. And you have to weigh the risk against what my son's future will be if I don't do this. He will definitely get transsexed if I get convicted as a terrorist. I reckon the odds to be nine in ten that this will come to pass - my conviction, I mean. So if I do what I propose he loses the one chance in ten that he won't be turned into a girl. Also he runs a one in four chance of losing his life, I estimate, from the operation being performed in an animal hospital. So what he gives up is a tenth of his masculinity and a fourth of his life. Now what does he gain? If there's no bad luck like the real Robin's body turning up, which is especially unlikely now that Baron is dead and can't talk, it's a virtual certainty that he, or rather, she will get out of having to spend five years or more enduring the horrors of one of these ideological reconditioning places. Bypassing that is worth a lot. Thus, there may be a lot of risk, but it's an intelligent play of the hand she's been dealt - and, incidentally, I do regard her as 'she' at present, for nine tenths of her masculinity has already been lost, so at present she is one part 'he' to nine parts 'she.'" "It sounds like you have fully accepted the fact that Roy is going to be a girl like Robin." "Yes. I have completely come to terms with that. It doesn't bother me at all anymore - for it has already happened. The thing to do now is to salvage what you can. He will still have his tennis game, for one thing. As a girl I guess he won't be quite as good, but he'll still be a very good player. Robin's game didn't lose much, did it? And he will still have his intelligence and his keen and independent spirit - being a transsexual among the Lesbianites won't render him an emotional basket case like five years in an ideological reconditioning center certainly would. So, while it's not the life I would choose for him much that he has going for him will be retained. As I say, the thing to do now is to salvage what you can, and be positive about it." "I don't know," said Helen. "Roy's got a good body for a sex change - but he's as transphobic as boys get, and it won't be easy for him to accept himself as a transie girl. He might go insane if he were suddenly de-penised and dressed in skirts. But even if things went well in that respect I still have my doubts that we could get away with switching his identity to Robin's. "For one thing, even if he and I moved to Geneva where my Robin was almost unknown there would still be people here in San Francisco who intimately knew Robin, either as a boy or as a girl. All that the Feds would have to do would be to get some memories from these people and show that the new Robin did not remember these things." "I've thought of that and have asked my psychologist friend about it. Robin had only been transsexed for a few months. That would render her very weak and vulnerable psychologically. And the experience with Baron would have badly traumatized her. Put these two things together, according to my psychologist friend, and a lot of memory loss would be understandable. Thus, if the NACBI did as you said, if they compared memories of friends of your Robin with memories of the new Robin, it would be evidence - but it would not be proof. "Now then, I've discussed the matter with a political friend who is a lawyer, along with some other political friends whose judgment in this area I respect. What the lawyer and the others tell me is that the Feds would be reluctant to initiate a legal battle with the Lesbianite group for the purpose of putting my transsexed son, now your transsexual daughter, into an ideological reconditioning center if I were convicted of terrorism unless they had irrefutable proof that he was not your Robin. "As evidence they site the Hass case of a few years back. Hass, as you will recall, was convicted of terrorism for breaking into a number of synagogues and destroying their sacred Torah scrolls. And just a month before the first of these acts of political vandalism, as you will recall, Hass had his fourteen year old son transsexed, and he immediately disowned him, and the son, now a transsexual girl, was immediately adopted by Hass' cousin, a Lesbianite woman. The Feds went to court to have the kid sent to an ideological reconditioning center after they had successfully prosecuted Hass for terrorism, as you will recall." "Yes, I remember the case well," said Helen. "The Lesbianites backed up the kid and the Lesbianite woman who had adopted her and who was now her mother - and there was a big battle, which the Lesbianites eventually won. The Feds withdrew their court case." "Yeah, the Lesbianites showed real political savvy in their actions - which is the main reason the Feds want nothing more to do with them. They publicized the fact that destruction of a Jewish sacred scroll legally counts as killing a person. Hardly anyone knew that this law was in the books. And during the trial of Hass the media was protective of this secret - newspapers, television, Web news sites and all gave the distinct impression during the trial coverage that Hass had killed several people. Then out of the blue the Lesbianites launched a big campaign to publicize the fact that Hass had killed no one, that all he had done was destroy some Jewish religious scrolls! "Tens of millions of people in North America Central got such information in their e-mail. Letters to the editor about this subject appeared in newspapers all over the country - wherever there was a Lesbianite community. Political discussion type newsgroups on the Internet were inundated with this information. There were even some TV infomercials, I understand. The Lesbianites did a stand up job and they succeeded in getting this news to the people. "And people began asking, 'Since when does destroying a Jewish religious scroll count as killing a person?' And when they found out that this was Jewish religious law they were amazed and angered that a Jewish religious law had been made into law of North America Central - which was supposed to be a World Region that had freedom of religion. And they asked, 'How could this possibly happen?'. "You see, the Lesbianites exposed Jewish Power as strategy in the court battle. They knew that the one thing the Jews feared was exposure - for exposure is the kiss of death to them. And just as the Lesbianites knew would happen, the Jews did not tolerate this exposure of them for long. They put pressure on the NACBI to terminate their court case with the Hass kid. That is how the Lesbianites defeated the NACBI in this court struggle. It was brilliant!" "Bobby, don't we have an agreement that you won't go off on your anti-Semitism with me?" He smiled a little. "Bobby, I think your interpretation is slanted by your views. The claim was being made that the transsexual girl who had been Hass' son needed ideological reconditioning because she had been raised by an ideologue who had gone so far as to kill people. We Lesbianites publicized the fact that Hass had not killed anyone in order to refute this argument that the other side was implicitly making - not because we knew that this would cause the Jewish group to put pressure on the NACBI to end their court case. But I don't want to argue, okay? I ask that you please remember our agreement and not go off on your anti-Semitism with me." "I was just explaining why the NACBI doesn't want another fight with the Lesbianites. They have learned that the Lesbianites are well-coordinated and that they understand _the political_ - that is why." "_The political_?" "That's what the _Protocols_ calls it." "You mean the _Protocols of Zion_? Bobby, you are breaking our rules." "All right. I guess I am." 7. Rain Delay It started to rain. It was not a hard rain; it was between a light rain and a drizzle. But it was too wet to be sitting outside so the two of them got up and walked to the parked Cadillac in order to go home to Helen's place. On the drive back they spoke little, as a precaution that the car might be bugged. When they arrived at Helen's place Helen suggested to Robert that he take a nap at her place before he drove back home to his place. "You're too drunk to be driving," she said. "Besides, you look like you badly need some rest." Robert agreed to this. As he started up the stairs to nap in one of the bedrooms, Helen said, "Listen, why don't you give me your house keys. While you're sleeping I'll run over to your place and get you some fresh clothes." Robert tossed her his leather key case, then started up the stairs. Helen did not leave right away to fetch her brother's fresh clothes. She brewed a pot of coffee and for the better part of an hour sat sipping coffee at the kitchen table, trying to digest all that Robert had told her, and trying to imagine having Roy as her new transsexual daughter. CHAPTER TWO: ROY AND AUNT HELEN 1. Roy shows up at the courts Roy, who was an excellent tennis player, (all four of the Busbie's, Robert and Roy, and Helen and Robin, when Robin had been living, played the game, and played it at a high level), had been scheduled for a match at the Golden Gate Park courts that Saturday morning; and he had arrived at the courts on his 400 cc motorcycle just about the time the rain had begun. As he neared the park's tennis facility Roy saw his father walking hurriedly with his Aunt Helen beside him as the two were headed to their car to get out of the drizzle. He was approaching them from behind on his bike, so they did not see him, and instead of hailing them he abruptly made a U turn with his bike and headed out of the park. There was no need for Roy to meet and speak with his tennis partner - their match was obviously rained out. The reason he made the U turn and abruptly rode out of the park was that he did not wish to encounter his Aunt Helen. Relations between the two of them had been cool for about three years, and since last June, when Robin had gotten his sex change surgery, there had existed a mutual hatred. Roy did not care to speak to his Aunt Helen; he did not even care to see the sight of her. All during the fifteen minute ride home through the rain the thought of seeing his father together with his Aunt Helen weighed heavily on young Roy's soul. He had a very private secret - he was afflicted with the crossdresser's sexuality, autogynephilia, which made the fantasy of being dressed as a girl a sexual turn on for him - and he thought that his Aunt Helen had detected this in him. Also, he thought that his Aunt Helen was diseased with a type of sexual perversion that was often found in male-hating feminists, whereby crossdressing, or better yet, transsexing a boy of keen male spirit was a sadistic sexual fantasy - and he sensed that she desired to transsex him. It greatly disturbed him whenever he saw his father consorting with her, for his father turned a blind eye to her hatred of males, as well as to her sadistic sexual perversion regarding keen-spirited boys, as he wished not to believe these things; so he was vulnerable, through his father, who loved and naively trusted her, to this woman's evil plots against him. 2. Roy at home When Roy got home he showered, gave his head a fresh shave with an electric razor, and dressed in his Smasher Skins uniform - which was pretty much a replica of the Nazi's Brown Shirt SA uniform - then examined himself before a mirror. Like his father Roy was well groomed and neat in his dress. His brown uniform was freshly laundered and pressed, and his black boots were immaculately spit shined. But there was a problem. He looked younger than his age of fifteen - and on some days his look in this regard was worse than on others. And this was one of those days. The image in the mirror was of a little boy who was pretending. Worse, it was of a girl who was pretending to be a masculine boy. Observing himself in the mirror, Roy thought of the courage he had displayed last spring, April 20, when he and his comrades had marched on Hitler's birthday. A large crowd of Jews and their allies had thrown rocks, bottles, and even some darts at them as they had marched. His comrades had thought he displayed good courage then. Next he thought of the reputation for "tournament toughness" he had earned as a tennis player. These thoughts altered his image in the mirror. Suddenly he did not look so young anymore; nor did he resemble a girl. On his left shirt sleeve, midway between his elbow and shoulder, he fastened a red, white and black swastika arm- band with two safety pins. This improved his image in the mirror even more. What appeared before him now was definitely a young Aryan warrior. Satisfied, he pinned his brightly polished brass lieutenant bars on the epaulets of his freshly laundered uniform. Then we walked into the living-room, practicing his marching step as he did so. Once in the living-room he turned on the stereo and put on his favorite Skinhead rock and roll song - which was entitled, "Jew, Jew, We're A'Comin' To Get You!". Then he went to his father's bar, which was in the living- room, and took a bottle of beer from the bar's refrigerator compartment. (His father did not allow him beer or other alcohol, but then he would hardly punish him when he caught him doing it. His father's attitude in this regard was, "Boys will be boys. When I was a boy I did the same thing too." If anything this encouraged him.) 3. Aunt Helen shows up As young Roy sat on a couch in the large living-room drinking beer while listening to his favorite neo-Nazi rock song, which he played over and over, the main thought on his mind was how dangerous it was to him that his Aunt Helen was so close to his father. And time passed in this way: always a bottle of beer in his hand, the same music song, and the same thought on his mind - the dangerous Aunt Helen. And he had drunk three beers and was working on his fourth when he suddenly heard the front door open, and to his astonishment into the room walked the devil herself, Aunt Helen. "Woman, the house has a doorbell!" Roy barked, as if he were giving orders to a squad of troops. Anger flashed in Helen's heart. She told herself to control her anger. "Oh, so I'm 'woman,'" she said. "I thought my name to you was Aunt Helen. Please excuse me for not ringing the doorbell or knocking. Probably my fault was wishful thinking. I was hoping that you were out, sweet boy." Helen started to explain to him why she had come - which was to get some fresh clothes for his father who was at her place sleeping off a drunk - but she decided against it. "I will try to control my anger; but I refuse to be defensive with this insufferable kid," she thought. She went to the bar and fixed a gin and tonic for herself. Normally she didn't drink much, but this encounter with Roy was causing her emotion and much nervous tension and she wanted to take the edge off things. She took a few sips from her drink, then said, "Roy, do you know why I took the trouble to earn a brown belt in judo?" Then she walked over to the stereo and turned off the Skinhead music. She was losing control. She knew it, but the anger in her heart was more than she could bear. 4. Helen's Anger Roy went, "What's this? Who are you to turn off my music? Do you think it's your house?" "Yes, I think it's my house," answered Helen. "You know why? Because I'm stronger than you. Besides, you owe me. You owe me a lot. Now then, I was telling you about why I took the trouble to learn judo. I did this because due to your wonderful influence, Lieutenant Roy of the kiddie Nazi brigade, my boy Robin got to be so thoroughly unmanageable that only through judo could I discipline him. And that is not all, you punk, it was because of your wonderful influence that my boy Robin needed to be turned into a girl. Yes, that was your fault, you punk. It was all because of you that my son Robin got turned into a girl!" Suddenly she leaped toward him, and the next thing the eye could see, for the motions were very quick and imperceptible, Roy was flying head over heels through the air, and he landed on his face on the floor with a thud. Meanwhile the beer bottle that had been in his hand went spinning and bouncing, leaking beer all over the rug. Young Roy rose to his feet, obviously dazed from his fall. Bright red blood trickled from each of his nostrils. He put his hand to his nose, then looked at the blood on his fingers. Then he glared at her. "You hateful woman. That was uncalled for," he said. She walked up to him. "You want an apology?" she said. Then she slapped him hard across each of his cheeks. "Lady, I think you got a problem with males," said Roy. Then he walked out of the room to tend to his bleeding nose. 5. Helen realizes she goofed up Helen went over to the bar where she'd left her drink. She felt relaxed now that her passion had been released. But she worried about what the Feds who were listening through the bugs would think of what they had just heard. Had she given away the plan to turn Roy into Robin? Maybe. She had informed them that she held Roy responsible for Robin's sex change. She had also informed them that she was deeply angry with Roy for this reason. Maybe they would infer that she would like to sex-change Roy to avenge what he had done to Robin. Thus if Roy were to suddenly disappear they would have a clue as to where to look for him. Yes, she had made a mistake; she had compromised the plan somewhat. Yet she had pretty much lost faith in the plan to give Roy Robin's identity anyway. During the drive from her house to Robert's she had thought of a new problem with this scheme. Namely, the differences in Roy's and Robin's tennis games. Both Roy and Robin had held Northern California rankings in the Boys Twelve and Under division, and any number of teaching pros and tennis buffs were familiar with their games. All the Feds would have to do would be to get a few of these people to observe the new Robin play tennis then testify - and they would have proof. Well, she reflected, they could probably solve that problem: they could forbid the new Robin to play tennis; or they could even injure her right arm so she would have an excuse for giving up the game. But the fact that Robert had overlooked this problem showed that he had not thought things through as well as he believed. And from this one could infer that there were apt to be a lot of problems with this scheme that he had not considered. 6. Helen grasps why the plan won't work Then as she stood by the bar sipping her drink thinking about the doubts she had about this scheme she suddenly saw a very large problem with it. Namely, everything depended on Roy-Robin's keeping her mouth shut. But if Roy-Robin's father were convicted of terrorism she would be tempted to make herself out as a martyr of the White revolutionary cause; she would be tempted to boast of her father's heroics and to portray her transsexuality as a sort of war wound. She would almost certainly confide the truth of her identity to some of her new friends, while boasting about her father, and rationalizing her transsexuality, or excusing it; and they in turn would confide this information to others; and pretty soon it would be common knowledge. Roy-Robin could not be trusted to keep the secret; in fact, it was a virtual certainty that she would fail in this regard. That doomed the plan. 7. The fearsome thought of prison Helen finished her gin and tonic, then reflecting that alcohol sometimes helped her to think, not when solving math problems, but in areas having to do with life, where a synthesis must be performed, or things put together, she fixed herself a straight gin over ice. Apprehension could be seen in her blue eyes as she sipped her straight gin drink. An inner voice kept telling her that this scheme to give Roy Robin's identity was a road to disaster - that it would lead her to a prison sentence. Her brother was desperate, desperate to spare his son - or rather, his transsexual daughter, for that is what she now was to him - the hell of five long years in an ideological reconditioning center, which would destroy her pride completely. And due to his state of desperation, or his sheer need for hope, he had come to believe in the viability of a plan that would spare his transsexual daughter this fate, a plan that really was not viable at all. She wanted to be loyal to her brother, especially now, for she sensed that he was not long for the world, and she did not want for him to die while feeling with disappointment that she had let him down. But she sensed it in her bones that if she went forward with this scheme of his she would go to prison for it, for this scheme of his stood no chance of working. 8. Roy will be heard So lost in her thoughts was Helen, in addition to being desensitized to the material world about her by the gin she'd drunk, that she did not see Roy re-enter the room. Then suddenly something roused her attention, and she looked and saw Roy standing before her with a pistol, a huge revolver. The pistol was not aimed at her; Roy held it pointed upward, toward the ceiling. Yet, though it was not aimed at her, the sight of it shrank her heart. "Aunt Helen, I must have a talk with you," said Roy. Then he walked away from her and took a seat on a couch, a couch that faced a matching couch across a low table. Helen poured more gin into her glass, not bothering to measure it with a shot glass as was her custom. Her hand shook, and the gin bottle hit the edge of her glass with a clink as she poured the gin. Then, holding her drink, she joined him, seating herself on the couch that faced him across the table. "Aunt Helen," began Roy, "I do not claim to be a man, for I am only fifteen. Yet in some ways I know how men think, what they know to do. And because I have learned the ways of men, somewhat, if someone tries to intimidate me, to make me fear him, I know that what I must do is prove to him that he has reason to fear me too. Now I don't know why you threw me to the ground with that judo move. But let's you and I get straight on something. If I want to I can make you fear me; and if your intention is to make me fear you, that is what I know I must do: I must make you fear me too." 9. Roy and the Birds Then Roy broke open the revolver's cylinder, which contained its six rounds; so that if the trigger were accidentally pulled it would not fire. And he placed the big forty-five caliber revolver, with its cylinder opened, on the table between them. "Now then, Aunt Helen, what I mainly wish to talk to you about is this. I believe I was born with psychic ability. And during the last two years I have learned to predict the future by means of bird interpretation and dream interpretation." "Bird interpretation?" interjected Helen. "Yes. Homer speaks of this. What you do is watch birds while letting your mind float freely in a certain way. If you have a question you will see its answer, 'yes' or 'no,' in the behavior of the birds you watch. Maybe this is because birds are dinosaurs and are so very old. But then, lizards and alligators are very old too, and I doubt if watching them would help me to predict the future. Maybe it is because birds are creatures of the air. But then, so are bats. And I doubt if watching bats would help me to see the future. I don't know how bird interpretation works; I only know that birds are somehow special, and I am confident that bird interpretation really does work. Anyway, my bird interpretation keeps confirming three things: (a) you are a degenerate man-hater who likes to turn boys into girls for sexual reasons, (b) for years you have been masturbating while imagining me as a transsexual whom you own, and have power over, and (c) somehow you have devised a way to make this masturbation dream of yours into a reality - you are going to transsex me and be in charge of me as a parent, that is, and you are going to accomplish this soon." Helen responded, "And you believe this because of how birds flap their wings, or how they fluff their feathers? Honestly, Roy, when you grow up - and despite various indications to the contrary I have faith that this will actually happen someday - you should study a subject called epistemology." "No, you don't understand. The psychic ability must be there in the first place. Observing the birds is just a way to put the psychic ability in motion. As for how the psychic ability works or is possible, I have no idea. But I am confident that once it is activated by such techniques as bird interpretation it really can predict the future. Anyhow, I keep seeing it in the birds that you are going to turn me into a transsexual, like you did to Robin. Only it will be worse. You will turn me into Robin's little sister. You will make me wear my hair in pigtails, and you will dress me in real short skirts and bobbie socks." 10. Helen apologizes - unnecessarily Suddenly Roy's face became very girlish. Especially his eyes - his eyes became utterly feminine. All at once he looked absurd in his Smasher Skins uniform - truly absurd. The sight of him was so ludicrous that Helen laughed aloud. Immediately she reached for the pistol on the table, fearing his reaction to her just having laughed at him - she feared a violent outburst, and she didn't want the pistol to be in his reach. "Excuse me," she said as she placed the revolver on her lap. "I'm not much of a drinker. Probably you can hold it better than I can, though you are still just a child. Give me three drinks and I start to laugh for no reason. I start to see humor in things that aren't funny - I laugh when I shouldn't." But Helen's apology was unnecessary. Roy's reaction to her laughing at him was very different from a violent one. He smiled. Then his eyes became even more feminine than before. At first Helen was dumbfounded. Then her mind became flooded with ideas - ideas about Roy, and ideas about an alternative plan to the scheme of giving him Robin's identity. 11. Roy tells of his TG dreams "Let me tell you about a dream I had a few nights ago," began Roy with his girlish face. "I was dressed as a little girl and was in a doctor's office, and the doctor was definitely a homosexual or some other type of sexual degenerate. And he looked at me and said, 'Miss Sissy, with my surgeon's knife I will cut out your icky penis tumor thingie; then out of your penis' skin I will fashion you a pretty girl's hole, a pretty hole whose purpose will be to be a place for a penis to go.'" "And here is another dream," he continued. "You dressed me in diapers and said I could not graduate to skirts until I had earned them. And to earn my skirts I would have to get passing marks in the Four Gs: Girlie Talkie, Girlie Walkie, Girlie Actie, and Girlie Thinkie." 12. Robert is waiting A telephone began ringing. The telephone was not in the living-room, but in the kitchen. Roy rose from the couch and walked out of the room to answer the phone. Soon he reappeared and said, "It's for you. It's Dad." Helen quickly removed the six bullets from the revolver and put them in her purse and placed the gun on the table. Then she rose and walked to the kitchen to take the phone call. "Sis," said her brother over the phone, "I have been waiting for you to return with a fresh change of clothes. Naked except for a towel I have been waiting. Naked except for a towel I have been waiting a long time. Please hurry it up, okay? ... Oh, and bring my pipes. I forgot them this morning. You'll find four pipes and a pouch of tobacco on the table by the door that goes to the garage. Bring the pipes and the tobacco, okay? And please make haste. I'm sitting around naked and there seem to be drafts in this place." 13. Roy confesses Helen explained to Roy that his father had been sleeping off a drunk at her place and the reason she had come over was to get him some clean clothes; and his father was now awake and showered and was awaiting her return with a set of clothes. Roy offered to help her carry his father's clothes to the car. And together they walked up the stairs to Dr. Busbie's bedroom. Pretty soon the two were outside in the drizzle putting a suit, a pressed white shirt, underwear, socks, a tie, a pair of shoes, the pipes and tobacco he had asked for and his shaving gear into the back seat of Helen's Ford, which was parked in the driveway. Aware that out in the driveway the Fed's bugs could not hear them, Helen said to Roy, "You want to be a girl like Robin, don't you?" "I am autogynephilic, if that's what you mean," he responded. "You have known that for a long time, haven't you?" "Is that what the birds have told you?" "Listen, Aunt Helen, if you go through with this, if you turn me into a girl like you did to Robin, I will make you pay a price!" "You listen, my innocent nephew - you should ask the birds if girlhood isn't just what you deserve!" Helen got into her Ford and drove away. CHAPTER THREE: A NEW PLAN IS PUT IN MOTION 1. The Busbie male body Even though Robert Busbie was naked except for a towel tied around his waist, which covered his private parts, he insisted that Helen go inside, out of the rain, while he brought in his clothes and so forth from the car - for he was a gentleman. Helen worried about what the neighbors would think as through her living-room window she observed her practically naked brother in the driveway. Also, she had not seen her brother so nude in a long time, for he did not care for swimming, or going to the beach, and she marveled at how at age nearly forty he still had the body of a teenager. His chest was perfectly hairless and he was not soft anywhere. And the stomach, which like the chest, back and feet, was white, in contrast to the legs, arms, neck and face, which were bronze from the sun - for he was a tennis player - was like a washboard. She reflected that this was the body that Robin would have had, if he had grown up to be a man. 2. Why Berkeley? Soon Robert was dressed, and soon after that they were in his Cadillac crossing the Bay Bridge on their way to Berkeley. Robert, who was now sober, was behind the wheel; and he was smoking a pipe. The traffic on that late Saturday afternoon was light, freely flowing, and not at all hectic. The smooth ride of the Cadillac, the perfect quiet except for the faint sound of the windshield wipers, and the aroma of the burning pipe tobacco made for a deeply relaxing atmosphere. Neither of them spoke as they drove along as a precaution that the car might be bugged by the Feds. Helen did not know why her brother had selected a bohemian cafe on Berkeley's Telegraph Avenue as a place for them to converse, for there were plenty of suitable places in San Francisco that were more convenient. She figured maybe he was just in the mood for a drive - for he liked to take drives in his Cadillac. 3. A hetero couple The trip to Berkeley had gone smoothly and swiftly. But finding parking in Berkeley had been difficult; and they wound up parked several blocks from their destination. And walking tightly together under the shelter of an umbrella as they ascended a long, steep hill to get to Telegraph Avenue they appeared to others to be a heterosexual couple. Certainly a rather strange couple - for he was dressed conservatively in his business suit, white shirt and tie, and she, who wore jeans, tennis shoes, and a pull over turtle neck sweater, and whose brown hair was long, natural, and obviously not styled by any beauty parlor, gave the impression of a bohemian artist type. But then Berkeley had always been a different place and such incongruous couples were not so uncommon there. Helen was well aware of the impression they made as together under the umbrella they made their way up the hill to Telegraph Avenue, for she could read the eyes of the passersby. And this caused her to smile. For it had been years since she had been mistaken for a "straight" person. 4. "Electrocity" in the Kerouac Cafe As they entered the Kerouac Cafe (named after Jack Kerouac, the renown beatnik writer of the early 60s period of the previous century), a tall bearded man of about thirty years who was exiting the place gave Robert an exceedingly hostile look. The man was amazingly unkempt - his clothes were ragged and soiled, and his long brown hair was so greasy it almost seemed wet. "Some schizophrenic who thinks he's an artist or a philosopher," remarked Robert once they had passed by this hostile person and distanced themselves by several paces. "On more than one occasion when I have been in here he has spoken loudly and with much passion about 'the electrocity' - the atrocious electricity!" he said with a smile. "He thinks 'the electrocity' is the country's primary problem; and he thinks he is a rare genius who has learned to cogitate in freedom from this atrocious electrical influence." "Do you come here often?" asked Helen once they had seated themselves at a table in the back of the large room. "Don't ask me why - it will become clear soon enough. But yes, I come here on occasion." 5. A young man reading Gogol Loud laughter suddenly erupted from nearby. At first thinking that this had to do with them, Robert looked to its source. The laughter had come from a young man who appeared to be a street-person who was reading a paperback book. With difficulty Robert made out the title. It was Gogol's _Dead Souls_. "No wonder he is erupting in laughter," he thought. Robert also reflected that this young man reading Gogol was the only person within possible earshot - and that he was completely absorbed in what he was doing. Thus, seated where they were, no one would overhear any talk between him and Helen. "Have you ever read Gogol's _Dead Souls_?" he asked Helen, whose back faced toward the laughing reader. "No, but I've heard of it. A Russian novel of the mid nineteenth century, right?" "Yes. You should read it. It's hilarious. Also, the pundits say the character development is world class. Anyhow, that's what the guy sitting near us is reading. He is obviously absorbed in it; I doubt if he is aware of much going on around him." Robert spoke the last sentence with a special emphasis. 6. Robert explains the bombing plan Helen nodded to indicate that she understood his meaning. Then Robert began, "The plan was to blow up the building late at night, and to issue a warning, a bomb threat, which would give time for the building to be cleared of the guards, janitors, and whoever else might be inside. Thus, the plan was to demolish the building while causing no injuries or deaths. And what this was all about was the proposed hate speech legislation. We wanted to let the Congressmen know that we had the barometric bomb. We wanted to let them know that if they denied us our First Amendment rights it would mean war - and that we had a hell of a weapon to fight this war with. In other words, we wanted to warn them of the consequences should they pass this hate speech legislation - we wanted to ensure that their vote on this matter would be sober, in touch with reality, and duly considered, that is. "Now what went wrong, we don't know. But there are two possibilities. One is that we were infiltrated by either Federal or Jewish agents. And the reason they blew up the building during the day and killed all those kids was to give rise to a tremendous media shit-storm that would put pressure on the Congressmen to pass the proposed legislation. "The other possibility, which I personally think is the more likely of the two, is that we were infiltrated by fanatics of our own general Movement who _want_ war. These people _want_ the government to overtly deny us our free speech rights - because they know that this will start a war, and because they think that this will generate a situation in which we will have enough popular support that a revolutionary war will be viable. Thus, they bombed the building during the day, when they knew it would kill a lot of people, and likely a lot of children, because they thought that this would cause Congress to pass this legislation that would overtly deny us our First Amendment rights; and that this in turn would give us the popular support needed to fight a revolutionary war and win it - since the Whites of our land still value their free speech rights. "At any rate, all that we know for sure right now is that the two men who launched the airplane are missing. I think probably they are fanatics of the Movement who betrayed us, who are presently in police custody and are trading information about us for lighter sentences. So the situation doesn't look too good for me. Anyway, I wish to repeat, our plan was never to kill anyone - least of all scores of Jewish children. All we wanted to do was blow up the building. Our intention was just to make a relatively non-violent political statement that would help Congress to act wisely regarding this proposed hate speech legislation." 7. Robert has a new flatsie lover Robert took a pipe from his pocket, a different one than the one he had smoked in the car, and lit it with a wooden match. "There are two reasons why I come to this place," he said. "One reason is that they let you smoke. The other reason is female, twenty-two years old, and is named Brenda. She is the waitress. She has been giving me angry glances the whole time and is refusing to serve us. No doubt there is a misunderstanding. Probably she doesn't realize that you are just my sister." Robert rose from his chair. Helen watched her brother walk over to the waitress, a slender, moderately tall brunette who was neither plain nor beautiful, and exchange a few words with her. Helen tried to see the young woman's breast size but couldn't because she blocked the view with her arms as she took an order, writing it on a pad held in front of her as Robert still stood alongside her, having just spoken to her. Then the young woman looked over to her, met eyes with her, and smiled in a very warm manner. Though she never did see her chest Helen felt sure she was a flatsie due to aspects of her body language. Robert returned to the table and pretty soon the young waitress, who wore jeans and a sung-fitting pull-over sweater, came over and served them each coffee. Helen then observed that her breasts were extremely small, almost nothing. 8. The girl is a writer "Hi, Bob tells me you're his sister, Helen. I would never have guessed that you were a Lesbianite. I mean, Lesbianite women usually aren't so attractive. I'm Brenda. I guess you've heard a lot about me." "Oh, yes," Helen lied. "Yes, I was just telling Helen about your novel," Robert lied. "Well, it's nice meeting you, Helen, but we'll have to talk later. I see the boss looking this way. I'd better take your orders and get back to work." Each ordered a hamburger and Brenda left. 9. Robert is robbing the cradle As soon as Brenda was safely distanced Helen gave her brother a look, and he responded, "Oh come on, it's not as bad as it appears. I would have told you about her if I hadn't been so preoccupied with you know what problems. I like her very much. "Look, I just changed my will to include her," he added. "If I have to off it she'll get forty thousand dollars. That equals free time for her writing. I'm sure she'll be grateful .... Helen don't look at me that way .... Please stop it, okay? .... All right, here's a question for you then: How old was that what's her name you had two or three years ago? Was she even sixteen?" "Her name was Chickadee and she was eighteen." "Oh, she was eighteen, was she? Well aren't you being inconsistent? At twenty-two mine is considerably older." "Lesbian love is different." "Because only males are capable of exploitation, right? Fine. Believe what you like - but let's not argue." "Okay, your affair with Brenda is none of my business. Curiously, have you told her about the trouble you're in?" "No. It's better that she doesn't know - for her own legal protection. Listen, I wouldn't have told you if I hadn't needed your help regarding Roy." The young man reading Gogol's _Dead Souls_ suddenly erupted in laughter. Soon Brenda brought them their hamburgers. 10. Helen explains the new plan for Roy "Bobbie, I need to talk to you about Roy," began Helen as they ate their hamburgers. "I have come up with a plan that I think is vastly superior to that of giving him Robin's identity. First I'll describe this new plan; then I'll explain why it's better. Now then, you know what autogynephilia is, right? Remember, it came up when we talked about the Hass incident earlier on." "Well, I have a general idea of what it is. But I really don't know much about it. All I know about autogynephilia is that it is a deviant sex drive whereby males get off on wearing female clothes." "Or having transsexed bodies," she remarked. "While it is true that most autogynephilics never desire a sex change, and a lot of them never even crossdress except in their imaginations, the condition is progressive by nature - once it establishes a foothold in the guy's soul its tendency is to get worse and worse. As it advances the erotic object will undergo modification - ultimately the desire to be dressed in feminine clothes turns into the desire to have a feminine body. As it advances it increasingly becomes the only sex drive the guy has - it is a powerful sex drive that will dominate others. And once it reaches an advanced stage it becomes a real problem, for it will have become a source of energy that has no outlet. Thus the guy's sex drive produces a bottled up energy that has no place to go. Now this will affect the guy in all kinds of different ways. It could and often does produce psychosis, but even if this does not happen the guy will be held back by it in numerous areas of his life: in numerous areas of his life the guy will fail to achieve his innate potential. This is why when autogynephilia is detected in an acute degree in a guy, ssuming that he is not a married guy with family obligations, the standard recommendation is that he undergo sexual reassignment surgery, SRS, and become a transsexual. For this will give the bottled up energy within him an outlet, and will allow it to dissipate. "Now then, this will surely amaze you, as it did me when I discovered it, but Roy is autogynephilic. And I think he has it in an acute degree. I think that if we took him to a gender psychologist and had his sexuality determined by Memory Detection Technology, MDT, the recommendation would be that he undergo SRS." "I cannot believe that Roy is autogynephilic," said Robert, whose face suddenly showed great consternation. "I have never seen any indication of it." "I wouldn't have believed it either. But earlier today when I was with him it came out. He even confessed it." "All right." With agitation Robert relit his pipe. "Please continue." "We get him examined by a gender psychologist who has no Neo-Nazi sympathies, who will therefore have no motive to lie to help you out. There's a good chance the verdict will be that Roy is so acutely autogynephilic that the best thing for him would be to transsex him. But even if he is not deemed to be that acutely autogynephilic he will definitely be deemed autogynephilic. Of that I am certain. And that's all we need. "Here will be our story in the event that he is autogynephilic but not so acutely so that a sex change is recommended: You found out he was autogynephilic, and because you are so rabidly transphobic you felt morally bound to disown him. And you approached me, your sister, who was a Lesbianite, to see if I would adopt him, for while you considered him to be a disgrace to you, and unworthy of being your son, you still wished him well, and you knew I would provide him a good home - and you also had heard that the Lesbianite community was the best place for a pervert of the type that your son was. My response was that I would indeed adopt your son, and would love him and care for him as though he were my own - but on one condition. He must be transsexed." Robert's eyes met Helen's. The look was inquisitive. He seemed like he was beginning to understand something for the first time. "His genitals must be surgically reconstructed so as to have the female function and appearance," Helen continued, now with a subtle grin. "He must be given a clitoris and a vagina in place of a penis and testes. He must have bosoms and wear a bra. His face must be surgically altered so that it appeared feminine. Skirts and dresses must be the only clothes that he would be permitted to wear. Such were my conditions - if I were to adopt him. "Now you did not like this idea of your son being transsexed. But your attitude toward autogynephilics was that they didn't deserve to possess the sacred penis anyhow, for they had dis-earned this honor accrued them by Nature; so, though be it with a measure of reluctance, you agreed to my stipulation. And the deal was closed on these terms; and we shook hands on it." 11. Justice for Robin "Now what was my motive for the stipulation that Roy be transsexed?" Helen continued. "I was deeply angry with Roy because of the influence he had had on Robin, and also because of his treatment of Robin, his total rejection of her after her sex change. When Robin was a boy Roy put the idea in his mind that the Lesbianite practice of having the boys of their group dress as girls on