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This is the first part of my second TG story. It's strange, but so am I. Scream Silently through the Dark Night By Sarah Elaine Marie Part I: How not to carry out a successful alien contact Derek was what is termed a "genetic male." That means he was born a male; yet, in the depths of his soul he knew that he really should have been born female. Derek was also fairly certain that he had been abducted by extra-terrestrials when he was six years old. Add to all this, a strong belief in the paranormal, and some slightly unusual abilities of his related to that, and you have an overall major problem. Throw on top of that being on the wrong side of thirty, no social skills, relationships that always end up going wrong, major depression and negative self-esteem and you have more than a fairly major problem. You have a walking, breathing disaster. The thoughts were going through his head as he walked along the street, trying to find some enjoyment in the fresh summer air. Still, whenever he would pass a store and see his reflection in the window the fact that he was "wrong" was driven ever deeper into his soul. He had long ago given up any hope of finding happiness in his life; instead, he basically got from one day to the next, wondering when the next problem would arise in his life. He was stuck in an entirely unhappy marriage. His wife, Barbara, had threatened him with a gun numerous times. She spent his money, ran around on him and paid no attention to his needs, physical or otherwise. The only thing that she was concerned about was that he keep working, and keep bringing in money so she could spend it. He knew that if he tried to get a divorce, though, she would find a way to take almost every penny he had. He had also developed a strong sense of self-hatred and no longer cared enough about himself to try and escape the hell his marriage had become. His parents had disapproved of his marriage and never failed to remind him of that fact. He knew that, if they found out that he really considered himself female, that they would react with, to put in mildly, extreme displeasure. He had given up on living, basically. He walked through each day like a zombie, doing what needed to be done, hearing but no longer listening to the constant nagging of his wife, going to work, coming home, doing housework, going to bed and getting up the next morning to repeat the routine yet once more. Derek wished he could believe in magic; he knew that if magic really existed then he might somehow be magically transformed into what he really saw himself as in his minds eye; a young teenage girl, beautiful and smiling, with a loving family and lots and lots of friends. Fat chance of that happening, he thought, looking down and shaking his head while he continued down the street. Now, one point of truth is that, if you are looking down at the ground you generally can't see something that is right in front of you which is why he didn't notice the slight distortion in the air just a few feet ahead of him. Moments later he entered the distortion and effectively vanished from the surface of the earth. Of course, if you leave one spot you tend to move to another spot, which is exactly what he did. If that spot had been, say, a mile away, then there wouldn't have been a problem. Even a hundred miles away wouldn't have been impossible to handle. But a hundred miles up? Right into an alien craft. Ergo, another problem arises. The Law of Inertia. It goes something like "an object in motion tends to remain in motion unless acted upon by an external force." Now Derek walks very, very quickly. Not that he tries, mind you, it's just natural to him, so when he passed through the distortion (really a spatial distortion, to be more precise) and exited the other side he was moving at a fairly good clip. Oh, yes, another thing I forgot to mention earlier. Derek was clumsy. It was said of him that he could screw up a train wreck. So, Law of Intertia + high walking speed + highly developed clumsiness = Derek exiting the spatial distortion and plowing right into the group of aliens that was waiting there for his arrival. Here's where people tend to get things wrong. The aliens aren't part of some vast government conspiracy. When has the government been efficient enough to have a conspiracy last more than a couple years? They also weren't planning an invasion. Through their technology all their physical needs were met. No, they were just here observing, learning, some even students studying earth for their own version of exo-sociology classes. O.k. So, if they weren't hostile, then why hadn't they contacted us? Because they were disgusted with how people act. The aliens not only had a highly-developed technological civilization, they also had a highly-developed spiritual/philosophical civilization. The things they saw people on earth do to each other revolted them. Sure, they saw some good things, but they also saw all the wars, the hate crimes, the prejudice, all the ways people have to hate each other and to hurt each other. No matter how disgusted the aliens were, though, they were not allowed to use force against the Earth. But they could try and manipulate things without force. Thus, their abductions had changed from merely abducting people to find out basic information about humans, to abducting people to try and bring about changes in their behavior. They had decided that, when they abducted people, they would subject the people to some psychological conditioning and see if that helped the humans to become less violent and hateful. They had also planned, later on, to carry out experiments seeing if they could physically transform some people, giving them new physical identities, then returning them to earth and take a more open and active role in getting people to change. Just what type of role they'd take the aliens hadn't worked out yet. See, there's another problem here. People tend to think that just because aliens can get to earth, the alien's are way, way smarter than humans and have all the answers. Well, they don't. Humans make mistakes and aliens make mistakes. They don't make as many mistakes as humans do, but they still aren't perfect. Which brings us back to the rapidly forward-moving Derek and the waiting committee. The aliens were set to peacefully subdue Derek, then use their portable mind-examining machines to check Derek out and see what mental changes they needed to make. Unfortunately, the alien in charge of getting the mind-examining machine had been watching a female alien that he had an interest in and thus picked up the wrong device. This one was the experimental model of the body-changing device. You can pretty well figure out what happened next. Derek plowed into the aliens, everyone fell in a heap, the body-changing device landed on Derek and activated. Moments later there was a flash of light and, when the light dimmed, in its place was the absolute cutest four-year old girl you've ever seen. Derek had been instantly changed into a female. Granted, a four-year old female, but still a female. Derek looked around, terrified for a moment, then looked down and saw that his fondest wish had been granted. He, now she, looked down at herself and yelled out a most enthusiastic "Yes!". Or would have if there had not been one problem. The body-changing device, as I said earlier, was experimental. Also, as I said earlier, the aliens were not perfect. So, the device did manage to change Derek's body almost perfectly. Almost. It left out a part. Derek's larynx was gone. Totally. It was as if he, now she, had been born without one. Derek had gotten his wish to become a female, but he was going to be a little girl who could not utter even the most minor of sounds. The aliens were just as surprised as Derek by the course of events. One of them stepped back in alarm, managing to bump into a control panel and depressing a button that said, in the alien language, of course, "Please do not press this button." Button pressed, space portal opened, and one vanished short-term abductee. If they had been given enough time the aliens would have been able to track where Derek was transported to and gotten him back into the craft. Unfortunately there is another law called the Law of Conservation of Mass and Energy. Basically, it states that matter and energy cannot really be created or destroyed, that they can just be transformed into each other. Einstein's theory is part of this. So, when you take Derek, who was around six feet one in height and some one-hundred and eighty pounds, and alter his body to the size and weight of a four-year old girl you have a lot of mass that has to be accounted for. Since the mass cannot actually be destroyed, it changes to energy. Rather a bit of energy. Enough energy to seriously hurt the aliens and damage their machinery enough that locating Derek was no longer possible. The aliens were too busy just trying to survive; they didn't have time to try and fix up an error with one of their experiments. * * * Part II: Dante was an optimist Moments later Derek materialized on a side street filled with beautiful, although slightly older, houses. The houses seemed to compete with each other to determine which had the most attractive floral arrangements. Green grass, flowers of every color and tall trees lined both sides of the street. There were a few people out walking, some working in their yards, and a couple just lounging around, enjoying the sun. Now, in that type of situation you're used to squirrels making sudden appearances or neighborhood cats running after said squirrels, things like that. What you're not used to is a flash of light and a very young, and very naked, girl materializing near one of the trees. (Here's another one of the problems. In Magical Girl Anime series, the girls change their outfits via magic and return to their normal clothes via magic. When Derek changed into a young girl, via actual scientific methods, his clothes became way too big and dropped off his body. The clothes, and his wallet, were incinerated in the aforementioned little problem with mass conversion.) John Roberts, home for a day of vacation, was the first to reach the girl. She looked at him briefly, her eyes the bluest he had ever seen. He bent down to try and talk to her but her eyes closed and her whole body went limp. Quickly he picked her up and yelled to his wife to call 911. A few minutes later a police car pulled up to the curb followed by the EMS unit. "Now let me get this straight," one of the policemen said after leaving the car and walking over to where John Roberts stood, watching the EMS unit examine the girl. "The girl just appeared, poof, out of thin air, right?" John Roberts shook his head, realizing just how crazy the thing sounded. "Yes, officer, she did." He began. "Ask any of the other people around here; I'm sure they all saw the same thing happen." "People don't just appear out of thin air," the officer countered. "She had to come from somewhere. Are you absolutely positive she wasn't here all the time?" "Positive," John replied. The officer's partner came over to join the questioning. "EMS says that the girl seems to be running a slight fever. No bruises or contusions, no broken bones, nothing to indicate physical abuse. They are concerned about their inability to wake her, though. They're taking her to the hospital. Once they get done examining her then they'll call social services." Another officer appeared. "I've talked to the other people standing around. They all say that the girl just appeared, poof, out of thin air." While they were talking, Jennifer, John's wife, had gone over to where the girl was being tended by the EMS people. She looked down at the girl and then gently touched the child's cheek. "She's so lovely," Jennifer began. "So young and innocent. Who could possibly have done this to her?" "No idea," one of the EMS people replied, "but we've seen a lot worse. At least she's still in one piece." A few minutes later the EMS unit pulled away to be followed by the police car. **** It was late into the next afternoon before Derek awoke. Slowly she opened her eyes, rubbed them with the back of her hands, and then carefully looked around. She realized that she was in a hospital room. Another bed in the room contained a child, probably about twice her age. The other girl's leg had obviously been broken and she lay in her bed, crying. Although still groggy, Derek was awake enough to realize that there had been some changes made in his life. Like, a total gender switch, to start off with. At first he thought he was dreaming, since his dreams, usually nightmares, were extremely realistic, but after pinching himself rather vigorously he came to the inescapable conclusion that "he" was now a "she." It was also quite obvious that she was in a hospital. Derek knew there would be people asking questions, and she also knew that they would never believe the actual truth, not without a lot of explaining. So, her first job was a new self-identity. Derek in his fantasies had decided that his "real" name, his feminine name, was Jessica, and for now, at least, she would use that name to identify herself with. Jessica started to get up from her bed and go to the girl on the other bed and try to comfort her. She started to call out to the girl but then had her second major revelation of the afternoon. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't make a single sound. Nothing. Not so much as a whimper. She tried to recall what had happened, but her mind seemed to have an empty space, starting when she was walking down the street and ending when she woke up somewhere else as someone else. She began to look around wildly, her whole body beginning to shake as she started to cry. Tears flowed freely down her face but still no sounds emerged from her at all. Worse yet, she began to be flooded by internal questions. Worst of all, she knew that somehow she would have to deal with the problem of her marriage. Although his wife had treated Derek with contempt and abuse, he still wanted to make sure that she would not suffer unduly by his no longer being a male, or being able to earn money. Jessica did not have long to think about all these things, though. Moments later she was hit by a migraine. Now, if migraines could be measured on the Richter scale, then the migraine that hit Jessica moments later would have topped out somewhere in the 9.5 range. The pain was instant, intense and terrifying. She grabbed both sides of her head, trying to drive the pain out, trying to scream, trying to do anything to get the pain to stop. The pain did not stop; if anything, it got even worse. Suddenly there was a flash of light and Jessica had a vision. A vision of death and horror; a vision of a shopping mall exploding, bodies scattered everywhere, blood dripping from the walls, shards of glass impaling passers-by. A name flashed through her vision; then her vision suddenly seemed to focus, speeding her through a smaller and smaller area until her movement stopped, leaving her facing an ordinary garbage container. She knew, somehow, that this was the container that contained the bomb that destroyed the building. Or, rather, would destroy the building, for somehow she knew that the explosion had not yet occurred. Once her sight cleared and the dizziness passed she ran from the room, going to a nearby nurses desk. She grabbed a clipboard from the desk and began to write down the name of the mall and the location of the garbage can. The nurse quickly moved from behind the desk, reached down and took the clipboard back from the little girl. Moments later she called for an intern to escort Jessica back to her room. Although Jessica tried to resist the intern, he was a grown adult and it was only a matter of minutes before she found herself back in her room. Another nurse entered and gave Jessica a shot, causing the girl to fall deeply asleep. Out in the hall, meanwhile, the duty station nurse glanced at the clipboard, saw what was written on it, and realized that something quite strange was happening. She saw the name of the mall, the word "bomb", and a simple map showing the location of the garbage can. In an instance like this there are generally two paths that can be followed. One path would have the nurse either ignoring the message or simply putting the clipboard down, not even noticing what was on it. The other instance would have the nurse read what was on the clipboard, wonder what the writings meant, and call someone to find out. Fortunately, for the several hundred persons who would otherwise have been killed, the nurse followed the second path. She made a call to her boyfriend, who happened to work for the F.B.I. He knew that his girlfriend was an extremely intelligent, wonderful person who would never even consider trying to pull a prank on anyone. So, within a half-hour, several agents entered the mall, just to be on the safe side, checking to see if there was such a mailbox. They soon found it, just where the map showed it would be. Within in it lay the bomb, a bomb that could have killed hundreds but ended up killing not a single person. The bomb disposal squad arrived, removed the garbage can with its cargo from the mall and placed it into a waiting vehicle. The bomb was taken to a relatively nearby open field where waiting bomb experts swiftly disarmed it. A short time later one of the agents made a phone call to a number that only he and a small, very small handful of people not in the military knew, a number that would connect him to an agency so secret that the C.I.A. would be an open-house by comparison. Meanwhile, in the hospital, another call was being made. This one was from one of the relatively impoverished orderlies who sensed dollar signs dancing through his head, an attendant who had overhead everything that had happened and knew the exact place to call: the offices of the World Examiner, one of the planet's leading, most sleazy tabloids in existence. * * * Part III: If we prick ourselves, do we not bleed? When Jessica awoke the first thing she found she needed to do was to go to the restroom. She got up and walked the relatively short distance there, and then she started to realize the full extent of her physical changes. She removed her hospital gown, sat down on the toilet and did what was necessary. She looked down at herself afterwards and smiled at the "physical evidence", so to speak, of her change. Finally, she was what she should be. No more trying to live a lie. No more trying to hold down all the feelings since men "did not cry." No more being trapped in the "wrong" body. She smiled, realizing that, not only was she now a girl, but she would have a full lifetime to experience everything her gender now offered her, the good along with the bad. She stood up, wanting to look into the mirror and see her whole self. Unfortunately, the mirror was too high for her, resulting in Jessica stamping her foot once in disgust then walking back into her room. The girl in the other bed looked at Jessica as she came out of the restroom and smiled. "Hi," she said. "I'm Mary. What's your name?" Jessica backed away a few steps, her eyes widening. Derek had been hurt by so many people during his life that he had finally become terrified of others. He had taken the X-files saying "Trust no one" to heart. He had lost what few people he had been able to call friends, and everyone that he had ever cared for had, at least in his mind, betrayed him in one way or another. This fear of others and of being hurt by them was deeply embedded in Derek's mind and now in Jessica's. Mary looked at the cute girl backing away, only to be stopped by the wall. "You can't be afraid of me, can you?" she asked, giggling. She pointed to her broken leg. "I'm not going to chase you, you know." Jessica relaxed, marginally, inching away from the wall. "So," Mary began, "What's your name?" Jessica tried to say her name but was quickly reminded of her condition. She stamped her foot, shook her head and then hit herself on her leg, hard. "Baka," she said mentally to herself, hitting herself again. "Baka, baka, baka." Which brings up another problem that Derek/Jessica had. Derek had gotten to the point where he had felt only total self-hatred. Partially due to this, and partially due to everything else that was going wrong in his life, he had begun to practice what is called "self-inflicted violence". He had abused himself verbally all the time, constantly referring to himself as stupid, an idiot, and other even nastier names. At times this hatred and feeling of having no control over what was going on in his life resulted in his taking the next step, and that was personal violence. He would hit himself in the leg or side quite hard when he became extremely angry with himself. Things had worsened and gotten to the point where he was even cutting himself several times a week. The cutting, he found, was about the only way he could avoid breaking down emotionally when confronted with a situation that upset him. So Jessica's hitting herself was pretty much normal behavior for her. Jessica calmed down. She saw a pad of paper on a small counter and wrote down her name and then showed it to Mary. "Jessica. That's a nice name," Mary said. "Maybe we can become friends." Mary's smile was wide, warm, and welcoming, and for a moment Jessica thought she might actually be able to make a friend. Which would have been a wonderful start to her life as a girl if matters had not deteriorated suddenly, for just as Jessica started to approach Mary's bed bright flashes filled the room. Jessica turned, just in time to see two men, one holding out a microphone and another with a camera pointed directly at her. The reporter, a rather sleazy-looking character, began barking out questions. "How did you know about the bomb?" he began. "Do you know the people who planted the bomb? Were they related to you?" The reporter and the photographer moved closer to her, forcing Jessica to back further and further away. He kept barking out one question after another and soon Jessica backed into another wall and sat down, drawing her knees up to her and sobbing, tears running down her face but yet never making so much as a whimper of sound. "What the hell is going on here?" a doctor said, entering the room and finding the pandemonium that was happening. "Get out of this room right now. This is a children's hospital, not a TV studio." The doctor grabbed the reporter and began to pull him out of the room. "You have no right to interfere with the press," the reporter yelled. "The public has a right to know about this girl and how she knew about the bomb. We're just fulfilling our duty to our readers." By this time a nurse had entered the room, trying to help the doctor restore some sense of order. Jessica held her hands to her ears, trying to block out the noises in the room. Her body began to shake from the terror she was feeling. She realized that she had long fingernails and she began to dig these into her upper arms, pressing hard and slashing upwards, managing to break the skin. A steady flow of blood began moving down her left arm, then moments later her right as she repeated her cutting on that arm. Mary watched the adults in the room and then looked down at Jessica and screamed. "What are you doing? Help her. Somebody help her." The nurse looked over and saw the frightened child on the floor, blood flowing down both arms, tears flowing freely down her face, her entire body shaking as she again went back to covering her ears. The nurse ran to a wall cabinet and quickly removed some supplies. Moments later she was trying to stop the flow of blood, all the while trying to talk in a comforting manner to the frightened girl. Suddenly, there was the sound of several pairs of feet moving rapidly down the hall towards her room. Three more men came into the room, one dressed totally in black, his face rough-hewn, his hair close-cropped and his voice deep and menacing. With him were two soldiers, fully armed and looking even meaner than the man in black. "And who the hell are you?" the exasperated doctor said to the new intruders. "Blakeley, FBI," the first man replied, quickly producing a wallet with his FBI identity card clearly showing his photograph and identity. "As of now this is a matter for the FBI and there will be no, and I repeat no reporters or other unauthorized personnel allowed in this room." With that, two more soldiers entered from the hallway, grabbed the reporter and the cameraman, and pushed them out of the room. The reporter continued to yell about his rights in the hallway, but one of the men closed the door to the room and finally some sense of quiet returned. Blakely turned to the doctor. "As of now your patient is under FBI care. No one is allowed in this room without my knowledge and permission. Two men will remain outside the door to make sure that order is carried out." "Wait a minute," the doctor said, running his hand distractedly through his hair. "You can't come into this hospital and start giving orders. You may be FBI but this young girl has obviously been through some kind of trauma and doesn't need to be upset even more." The nurse, by this time, had stopped the bleeding and was holding the still-crying girl who clung desperately to her. "And we're going to make sure she isn't," Blakely replied. "My men and I will make sure that this room remains a nice, quiet refuge for your patient." "And just why are you here anyhow?" the doctor asked. "National security," Blakely replied. "This girl knew something about a terrorist act and we want to find out how she knew about their plans." Jessica had watched all of this unfold, her eyes still filled with tears, showing a growing terror at the events unfolding in front of her. She stood shakily, her back solidly against the wall. Mary, meanwhile, kept moving her head quickly back and forth, trying to watch everything that was going on in the room, trying to watch Jessica, trying to watch the man now approaching her and not having any idea what she could do to help and watching the two soldiers who had taken up positions by the windows. "Jessica," Blakely said, his presence now looming over the frightened girl. "You will come with us as soon as the doctor says you're well enough to leave. We want to take you to a facility where you can be protected and we can have you explain to us just how you knew about these terrorists." With that, Blakely crossed the remaining distance between the two, putting his arm out towards Jessica who stared at his arm and then suddenly began to silently scream, seconds later collapsing to the floor, fainting from the overwhelming flow of emotions coursing through her at the moment. * * * Part IV: "Area 51" It was several more days before Jessica's doctors said that she was well enough to leave the hospital. Blakely had been replaced by a young woman, Agent Johnson. She had also introduced herself to the hospital staff as a member of the FBI, her credentials as bogus as those of Blakely's. Both represented an ultra-top secret governmental group known by the in-joke name "Area 51." Very few knew of its existence, yet it had been around in one form or another since the closing years of WWII. It was at that time that a few people were found in the military that displayed unusual psychic abilities. One was able to get hazy glimpses of the future; another could describe the appearance of objects including buildings and people at a great distance, and the third, when she displayed rare moments of sanity, was able to read minds. Since there were so few in the group and the ESP phenomenon was still largely unknown and not understood, the group did not make any significant contribution to the war effort. There were those in the military, though, who felt the idea of such a group was something that should be pursed, an idea given impetus by the later discovery that the Soviet Union was trying to train people to use psychic abilities to spy on the United States. The Roswell crash in 1947 proved to be their first excursion into alien technology. The pieces of the crashed saucer had been recovered and the area thoroughly cleaned by the military. The pieces, along with several bodies recovered, had been transferred to Wright Patterson Air Force Base in Ohio and stored in Hanger 18. That much, of course, later became a major focus of all UFO enthusiasts. The military denied there was ever any crash and explained it away by saying that the object was a malfunctioning weather balloon. They even eventually allowed some reporters into Hanger 18 to show them that there was nothing there except standard Air Force technology. The military at the base had actually been telling the reporters the truth, because there was nothing at Hanger 18 that in any way resembled alien technology. What they did not tell the press was that such material had, at one time, been there and mysteriously disappeared. An investigation had disclosed a wide variety of falsified documents, leading the investigators to the conclusion that some group had gone to great lengths to get their hands on the materials and to remove all traces of them from the military's control. The group that did this, of course, was Area 51. They had spent the intervening years studying the pieces along with others recovered at various locations, eventually even being able to tap into the alien computers and download at least some pieces of information, information about aliens and mental abilities that became the core of the group's studies. The group remained small over the years and was still known to few. They had, from time to time, found other humans who possessed abilities like Jessica's and had them brought into their main facility in the mountains in a remote area of the northwest. The people were studied, tested, proded and analyzed to determine the extent of their abilities and how those abilities could benefit the U.S. Agent Johnson did not explain any of this to Jessica, of course. She visited Jessica daily, trying to win her friendship by giving her a mother figure to cling to. She would hold Jessica and rock her back and forth when the child became upset. She would read to her and play games with her, all to win Jessica's trust. The idea, of course, was to get Jessica out of the hospital and into Area 51's facility with as little difficulty as possible. Things seemed to be going well until Jessica finally tried to explain to Agent Johnson what had actually happened to her. The agent had listened carefully, then left the room a short time later. She dialed the number for Area 51 using a phone they had developed which scrambled everything so no one else could eavesdrop on their messages. "Let me speak to Blakely," Agent Johnson started. "Blakely here," he replied a few moments later. "Jessica might be the person that we've been looking for," she began. "The one the seer told us about." "You mean the story about the one 'woman but not born of woman'? The one that's supposed to have these great abilities that nobody seems to be able to specify?" Blakely, although a part of Area 51, was, in effect, the Scully of the group. He questioned constantly what the psychics in the group had said. He believed that their abilities were not really abilities at all, but excellent guesses and insights. Area 51 kept Blakely around because of his questioning, for they felt that his views would help those of the group who wanted to treat their psychics almost as gods. "I think I know what the `woman but not born of woman' thing is. Jessica told me that she was originally a male; something happened and he was changed into the four-year-old girl in the hospital room. She has no memories at all of what actually happened. The psychiatrist we had examine her told me the child has suffered some form of crisis that has caused her to develop selective amnesia." "So do you believe her story?" Blakely asked. "I believe that she believes it," Johnson replied, "and that we should bring her into the group. I think she might be the one they predicted we'd find." Blakely sighed. "Ok. As soon as the doctors release her we'll bring her in for study, but this better not be a complete waste of our time." "I don't think it will be," Johnson replied. In the hospital room Jessica was in her bed, sitting up, her knees drawn up to her chin. She had gotten her greatest wish, yet the granting of that wish had not brought the happiness she expected. It had also brought loneliness since Mary, the other child in the room, had been moved out a couple of hours after the reporters had been removed from the room. No other child was brought in and Jessica had talked to no one aside from the single nurse that always seemed to be the one to check in on her and Agent Johnson, who Jessica had started to trust, just a little. Jessica requested one favor of the agent before she went with them. Despite all the terrible treatment that Derek had received at the hands of his wife, there was still some sense of duty within his former self. Perhaps it was a misplaced, samurai-type sense of duty, but Jessica had insisted that they take her to her former home and let her explain to Barbara what had happened. Further, she got them to agree that their agency would deposit a considerable amount of money in their joint account, money that should last Barbara for quite a while. Agent Johnson told Jessica it was time to go. The child looked around the room and gathered up her few possessions which included some clothes the agent had given her, a large stuffed bunny and a small purse with some Hello Kitty cosmetics in it. When they got to the waiting car they found that Agent Blakely was also there. They drove in silence until a little later when the car pulled to a stop in front of a nondescript apartment building, signs of age and neglect all over the structure. Trembling, Jessica made her way up the narrow stairs to where she had lived as a man until so recently. She knocked on the door and waited. She knocked a second time, and this time the door opened to reveal a half-dressed man. The guy's pants were dirty and only loosely held by his belt. His face was a harsh one with a scar running along the left side of his forehead. "Who the hell is it?", a slurred voice sounded from the depths of the apartment. A short time later a woman appeared, dressed only in a loosely-tied robe. Jessica could smell the alcohol on her breath from across the kitchen were they were now standing. "These guys say this little girl has something to tell you," the slovenly man said, turning to Barbara. "And what can a brat like that tell me?", she replied, leaning down closer to Jessica. "This young girl used to be your husband," Blakely said. * * * Part V. Home is not where the heart is Barbara straightened and looked at Blakely before breaking into laughter. "You're out of your mind," she said, pointing her finger at him. "I know my worthless husband wanted to be a woman, but this," she said, pointing to Jessica, "is not possible. I just want that bastard back from wherever he went so he can get back to paying the bills." She reached over and took a glass from the counter, filled it from a whiskey bottle lying next to the glass, and took a drink. "My stinking husband never was a real man," she said, taking another drink of the whiskey. "He's worth nothing except for the money he brings in. Blakely handed Barbara a piece of paper. "This is a description of what's in your apartment that Jessica gave us. It includes some personal information about your relationship..." (or lack thereof, Johnson thought) "that no one but Derek could possibly know about." Barbara looked the paper over then looked down at the trembling girl, realizing that the girl really had once been her husband. "You son-of-a-bitch!" she screamed. "How are we going to have enough money to pay for the bills? You selfish bastard. You got what you wanted, but what about me, huh? What about me?" With that Barbara lashed out, catching Jessica off guard. The force of the blow was enough to throw Jessica violently against the kitchen refrigerator. The little girl hit the floor, hard, holding her arm and trying to scream. Immediately both agents pulled their weapons, Blakely pointing his at Barbara and Johnson pointing hers at the half-dressed man while moving towards the fallen child. "Get back, now!" yelled Blakely. He moved right up to Barbara and pointed the gun directly at her. "If you so much as move an inch it'll be the last move you make." "You can't do that," Barbara yelled. "You can't go around just shooting people. I have my rights!" she screamed at the agent. Blakely smiled at her, a smile that showed just how frightening a human smile can actually become. "I wouldn't bet on that if I were you," he said menacingly. Johnson had reached Jessica, and saw that the young girl had been badly injured. Blood was pouring from her arm, a splinter of bone pushing through the child's skin. She pushed two turquoise-colored stones on a silver bracelet she wore, sending coded signals to the vehicles that had followed theirs to the apartment. The other occupant of the apartment, the man who Barbara had been "entertaining" just a short time before looked at all the chaos and decided that getting out of there was the absolute, number one best idea. As soon as the young woman agent started examining Jessica, he hiked up his pants and began to run out the door but was stopped by three soldiers rushing in, two with automatic weapons, and the third, a medic. The medic moved swiftly to where the little child was on the floor being held by Johnson. The two others raised their guns, one of them pointing his directly at the would-be fleeing man, the other at Barbara, allowing Blakely to step back. Since the apartment kitchen was not very large this left two people standing with extremely ugly-looking guns just inches from them. Having a standard firearm pointed at you is bad enough, but having a large, obviously heavy and extremely nasty looking automatic weapon pointed at you by a fully armed and equally nasty-looking soldier is somewhere beyond bad enough. It was enough, in fact, that Barbara, despite her towering rage at her former husband, finally shut up. Johnson looked up at Blakely. "Her arm is broken," she began. "We're taking her back to the hospital." With that the medic picked the child up in his arms and the two swiftly left the room, moving down the stairs towards the awaiting vehicles. Blakely surveyed the room, glaring at the two individuals backed up against the wall. "Understand this," he began, slowly, his voice deep and almost a growl. "Your former husband was the one who wanted us to come here. He looked down for a moment, then back up at Barbara. "If anything happens to that child we will be back and neither of you will ever be seen again." Barbara's eyes grew wide, realization coming to her that she was not dealing with someone or some group she could file a lawsuit against for violating her rights and end up getting lots of money from media that wanted to cover the story. She was looking into the eyes of a man who protests, screaming and lawsuits would not work against. She was looking into the eyes of a man who could, and probably would, kill her if he had the chance. The half-dressed man against the wall, meanwhile, started to protest, saying everything was Barbara's fault and he was innocent, but the soldier's taking one more step towards him ended his verbal outcry. Blakely decided not to let the former wife know about the money that had been put into their checking account. He was seriously tempted to have the money withdrawn, but he had promised Jessica the money would be there and he was a man who kept his promises. All of them. He let a few moments go by for the gravity of his words to set in and then he signaled to the two soldiers. The three left the apartment and moved down the stairs, out to the two remaining vehicles and then on to the hospital, leaving two totally terrified individuals behind them. An hour later they were all back at the same room Jessica had been in before. The girl, her arm in a cast, the tears still flowing down he face, was being held by Agent Johnson. She was cuddling the girl, rocking her back and forth, running her hand through the child's hair and talking softly to her the entire time. "Bad things do seem to have a way of happening to her, don't they," Blakely began. "We've notified the facility that we will be delayed. They've arranged for a home for the child to go to. All the 'proper' adoption papers are already set." "Who are our people in the home?" Johnson asked. "I don't know yet," Blakely replied. "They told me they were still trying to pick the couple who would take the child." Jessica suddenly began to squirm and then started to thrash wildly. Agent Johnson tried to hold her but the girl's other arm had gone to her head and her silent screaming went on and on. "Another vision?" Johnson asked aloud. It took some fifteen minutes before Jessica was able to get calm enough to be able to write down on paper what she had seen. She drew what appeared to be the space shuttle with an arrow pointing to a place along the side of the left-hand booster rocket. Blakely tried to get more information on what she had seen, but Jessica was still in considerable pain and she couldn't calmly write down a detailed description of her vision. Since she didn't know sign language she couldn't use that medium, either. Blakely made an emergency call to the Cape, identifying himself this time as being from the CIA. He told the senior controller that the CIA had solid information that terrorists had somehow sabotaged the shuttle and they should make no attempt to launch it until they had inspected it thoroughly. He described the area the drawing pointed to, receiving assurances that they would immediately check out the shuttle and then he turned his cell phone off. Jessica, meanwhile, had finally fainted from a combination of the pain from her arm, the pain from her vision, and the pain she felt in her soul over what had happened in the apartment. For Jessica, she had totally lost her past and she had no idea where she was going in the future. * * * Part VI: Into the Darkness Two hours later the news arrived; Jessica had been correct again. Workers had detected a structural flaw on the booster rocket in the exact position she had shown. If the shuttle had been launched, they determined, the booster would have exploded, destroying the shuttle and killing all those aboard. Blakely had taken Jessica to a house belonging to one of Area 51's agents. She was to be placed with them until and they were to study her to best figure out how to use her talents. This would have given Jessica a chance for a stable home environment. Notice the expression: "would have". "The agency did not tell me that I would have to babysit some four-year-old brat," Melanie Rogers said. Melanie had been working for the agency for over ten years and in that time had acquired a reputation for being ice-cold, unsympathetic and without any form of compassion whatsoever. Her partner, Michael Roberts, was away on a mission for the agency and would not be returning for several weeks. He was Melanie Roger's total opposite; caring, considerate, always willing to help someone out. Why the two had been paired to pass as an "ordinary" couple neither one could figure out, yet the pairing, somehow, had seemed to work rather well. "Jessica is not a four-year-old brat, as you put it. She's a sweet, innocent child..." "Who the agency wants me to babysit," Rogers finished. "Why don't you place her with someone else?" "We don't have any more of our front houses in this area," Blakely replied. "The girl's been hurt physically, and psychologically she's a mess. She needs someplace to stay, now; a place where she can at least rest somewhat in relatively normal conditions." "Then put her in a damn hotel," Rogers yelled. "Or an orphanage. She belongs at a place like that." "We've considered that," Blakely replied, stunning Melanie temporarily. "But we need to have her somewhere she can be kept under constant surveillance. You haven't seen what the visions due to her. She's in obviously terrible pain, yet she still does her best to communicate what she sees to us." "Right. Communicate. The kid can't even speak." "She gets her message across well enough using her writing pad," Blakely responded. "The agency has classified her as absolute top priority. She could be the one the psychic council has been looking for." "Oh, wow, now we're the X-Files," Rogers noted sarcastically. "That council is as nutty as you are if you think I'm going to take charge of that girl." "I am not, as you so nicely put it, 'nutty'. I am, however, your superior officer and you work for the agency and will do what you are told. Have I made myself perfectly clear?" Rogers started to reply, but then decided that there were times it was best to just remain silent. The two agents discussed what Jessica would need, how she would be sent to the science area to be studied, and a cover story to explain her sudden appearance in the household. During the next two days children's furniture was brought into the house along with an advanced computer system, a wide variety of books that Jessica had told them she would like to have and plenty of stuffed animals, especially bunnies. "There is a potentially troubling area," Blakely told Rogers when they had finished setting up Jessica's room. "The girl is four years old, perhaps five; our lab people are trying to figure out just what age to place her at. So physically she's a child, yet mentally she has the mind of a grown up male. We don't know what type of a clash that might cause in her. She may end up acting very advanced for her age; but she might end up mentally regressing to her actual physical age." "Or she might go stark raving mad," Rogers said. "Unfortunately, that is a possibility," he replied. The two agents turned at the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. "Looks like she's here." Moments later the front door opened and Jessica entered the house holding the hand of Agent Johnson. Jessica was dressed in a cute pink outfit, her blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail and tied with a Hello Kitty holder. She glanced warily around the room then at Blakely. "O.k. You've got the cover story down, right?" he asked Melanie. "Yes, chief, " she replied. "This is the daughter of a dear friend who died in a tragic car accident. Her father ran off before the child was born and no one has any idea where he is. We've agreed to adopt the child to give her a loving, warm, caring home." Agent Johnson brought Jessica over to Melanie. The young girl looked up, her deep blue eyes seeming to search into the very soul of the agent. She grasped Johnson's hand even tighter. She finally was able to coax Jessica to let go of her hand and go to Melanie, but when she was there Melanie just looked at her, then resumed talking to Blakely. The next few hours were spent getting Jessica adjusted to her room, making sure it was stocked with enough pads of paper and pens so she could write out any messages. Arrangements had been made to give her sign language lessons, hoping that she would pick that up quickly and make communicating with her more efficient. A week had passed by quickly. Jessica had settled into her new home. Her sign language classes were due to start in the next couple of days, and she had no further premonitions. The scientists were beginning to question whether or not the two that she did have were aberrations of some sort. As for Jessica's relationship with Melanie Rogers, things had not gone well. The agent was cold to Jessica for the entire week, talking to the young girl only when necessary; never touching her, never making any real effort to get to know the girl. One night, while alone in her room (as usual), Jessica was thinking about what had happened so far. "What's happening to me?" she wondered. "The agency just wants to study me; Melanie hates me and I still have this stupid broken arm." She sighed. "I thought that finally getting to be a girl would be wonderful, but everyone either wants to use me or hates me." She looked out her window, holding her white and brown rabbit, Ms. Tilliwink, tightly to her. "I never know when one of these visions will happen. I'll never be able to talk to anyone again. I'm a freak and when I start taking those classes I bet the kids will hate me just like they did when I was a student before." She looked down at Ms. Tillliwink. "All I wanted was to be what I was supposed to be - a girl. I wanted lots of friends, maybe a sister or two and what do I have? What I've always had - just me. Alone. Unwanted." Tears were beginning to flow from her eyes. "Can't I even have a little bit of happiness? Can't I enjoy being a girl?" Jessica finally cried herself to sleep. A little later she had a nightmare. Nightmares had become a common event for Derek. Sometimes he even had several in the space of one night. So far they had not bothered Jessica, but with the strain of her relationship with Melanie and worry over about how the other kids would react to her, it was only a matter of time till they started up again. Melanie had gotten into the habit of doing a routine check on Jessica each night. When she felt she could take a short break from other things she was doing she would check in on the girl just to make sure that she was all right. Not that Melanie really cared about the girl herself; she just new that if anything went wrong she would be the one that Blakely blamed. When she walked into the room she saw Jessica wake suddenly, sitting up in her bed and trying to scream. Tears were pouring from her eyes and her whole body was shaking. Melanie looked at the child for a few moments, then she approached her and stared into her eyes. She had never seen anyone cry like this. This wasn't any "normal" crying; this was the weeping of a soul beyond hope. Seeing the child falling apart right in front of her melted the ice that had been around the agent's heart and she held Jessica tightly against her, rocking the child back and forth. Tears began to flow from the agent's eyes now and she realized just how cruel she had been to this child for the last week. Melanie had been told the story of Derek's life and hadn't been impressed by it at all. In fact, she considered that Derek should just have faced his problems in a manly fashion. That he was TG and felt that "he" was really a "she" did not impress her at all. But now, holding this young child in her arms, realizing that she carried the emotional scars over from her life as Derek seemed to be the event that finally allowed Melanie to accept Jessica in her own heart. The next day Melanie escorted Jessica to her sign language lessons. The lessons were being given at the local high school. Children of a variety of ages were in the classroom, Jessica being the youngest one there. The teachers were known to be patient and understanding and worked well with all the children. After talking to the teacher and being assured that Jessica would be fine she returned to her home and started to work on her latest report for the agency. The students were given a recess period during their lessons so they could have some fun and relax a little. Jessica followed the others outside, enjoying the sunlight, the puffy white clouds drifting across the sky and the sounds of the birds coming from the nearby grove of trees. There was a small play area reserved for the children with several swings and a jungle gym. Several of the students were climbing all over the gym while the rest were either on the swings or nearby. Jessica remained by herself, afraid to join in with the others, afraid of being rejected by them. She was watching the other students so intently that she didn't notice the high-school boy approaching her. "Now who do we have here, cutie?" he said. "You too good to play with the others?" he smirked. Jessica turned and looked at him, growing fear evident on her face. "Maybe if you don't want to play with them you'll play with me, instead." He waited for her to say something but when she didn't he took a quick look around, making sure that the other students were not looking in his direction. He saw that the teacher was on the other side of the playground working with a student and looking the other way, so he reached down and grabbed Jessica's arm, pulling her behind him. "You too stupid to even cry?" he asked. "Or maybe you like being treated this way." Then he pulled her around the corner of the building and stepped behind some large bushes. "Or maybe you're a freak, like the other brats there." He grabbed her and tried to force Jessica to kiss him but the girl kicked out, accidentally hitting the boy in his most vulnerable spot. He dropped her and she started to run away. Blinded by his pain and his arrogance he chased after Jessica, grabbing her when she had gotten only a little distance away. They were still in some tall bushes and remained hidden from the view of the playground so he continued his assault on the girl. "You bitch!" he yelled out. "Now we play by MY rules." With that he grabbed the girl and spun her around, gripping her top and tearing it off in one move. She fell to the ground and tried to crawl away but he continued tearing at her clothing and within moments she was left with only her panties, and then not even those. By this time students were looking out the windows of the high school, drawn by the boy's loud cursing. Although the bushes were tall, effectively screening him from being seen by anyone on the ground, he had forgotten that people could see into the bushes from above. A couple of the students had gone to get help, and two of the boys raced from the room to try and help the young girl. Before they could arrive to rescue her the students saw him grab Jessica and pull her towards him, reaching his hand between her legs and trying to force them apart while he tried to kiss her. Moments later the two boys ran from the door and straight into the bushes. One of them grabbed Jessica away from her attacker while the other tackled him, holding the student down until security was able to get there and take the student into custody. A short time later, Melanie was in the nurse's office trying to comfort Jessica. She had become furious with the teacher for not taking better care of her child. Security had told her that they had everything under control and that her attacker would be suspended immediately and possibly expelled. The matter had also been referred to the police. "What do you mean 'possibly' expelled?" Melanie angrily said. "My god, the child's only four years old! That piece of garbage should be kicked out of school forever!" The security man told her that they had to follow established school procedures to make sure the rights of the students were protected, and that he had the right to a full hearing before they could actually expel him from the school. Jessica was released from the hospital later that night. Melanie started a bath for Jessica and put the girl into the tub, making sure the water was just the right temperature and not too deep. She was even using some fragrant bath salts that she felt the girl might enjoy. Just then the phone rang. It was Blakely, wanting to know how Jessica was doing. Melanie had called him on their way to the hospital, giving him a very brief description of what had happened. Now she gave him a more detailed explanation, including how the boy had been stopped by the two brave young men and then turned over to security. She also told him about the conversation she had with the school's principal when she called him from the hospital. She had talked to the principal, telling him that she wanted to see the boy permanently removed from school, but the principal had explained that the boy was the child of the head of the school board and that made it a very delicate issue to handle. "Delicate, my ass," Melanie had said before she slammed down the phone. Suddenly she realized that she had left Jessica in the bathroom alone. She ran to the room and opened the door, then screamed. Jessica was in the bathtub, streams of red flowing from both her wrists, turning the bath water a pinkish color. Melanie grabbed the child and pulled her out of the water, noting as she did the razor blade that the child had found in the medicine cabinet. She quickly grabbed two of the smaller towels and wrapped them around the child's wrists. then rushed her out of the bathroom. Placing her on the couch she called 911 and a few minutes later the streets were filled with flashing lights as the emergency squad tended to the girl. They put her on a stretcher and took her out of the living room, down the front steps and into a waiting ambulance. Melanie followed them, closing the door quickly behind her and climbeing into the ambulance with Jessica. * * * Part VII: Defiance and resolution It was almost a week before she was released from the hospital. By this time Blakely had gone to the school and questioned a number of people. He praised the two boys that came to her rescue and was told that the boy that attacked her had been expelled for ninety days, but that his father was fighting the expulsion. Jessica was scheduled to return to school a week later but Melanie was told she would first have to meet with the principal. "Please, Ms. Rogers, have a seat," the principal said, pointing to a rather worn desk chair. "I'm glad you've come for our little talk. The assistant principal and I have decided that Jessica should not return to this school." "Why?" Melanie asked, her eyes becoming slits. "We feel that her attempt to kill herself would be a distraction to the other students. We've reluctantly come to the conclusion that our school is not really able to serve your child's needs." "And just what are you talking about?" Melanie asked. "Jessica is obviously a very disturbed young girl..." "And you're worried that her behavior might contaminate the other students?" "It's not that at all, Ms. Rogers. Jessica is a very special child. We feel that she deserves more attention than we can give her here. We're just a public school, Ms. Rogers, and we can't really devote the type of resources to your child that she needs." Melanie looked down for a moment, thinking. "In other words," she began slowly, "the head of the school board told you to get rid of Jessica." The principal looked stunned for a moment and then told Melanie that she had hit the nail on the head. Being a consummate politician, however, he quickly recovered. "Let me assure you, Ms. Rogers, that there is no truth in that accusation at all. Our decision was based purely out of our concern for the needs of your child." Melanie rose and left the principal's office without another word. She knew that the most difficult task lay ahead, and that was telling Jessica that she wouldn't be returning to the school. She knew that having Jessica attend a school where she was not wanted would not help the child at all. Even if the teacher and the students were receptive to Jessica's returning, the principal was in a position to bully them into following his lead. Not only him, of course, but the head of the school board would be applying pressure to the teachers to force Jessica out. This would create a bad situation for everyone involved. Jessica already carried over myriads of problems in dealing with others; putting the young child into a situation where she might be resented could harm her, and that was something Melanie didn't want to happen. Later that evening Blakely came over and the two of them had a long discussion about Jessica. When Melanie suggested that they find another sign-language class to enroll Jessica in Blakely revealed that he had already looked into the matter and received the same answer from each school he contacted; they could not accept a child with such "special" needs as Jessica. When he asked how they knew about her "special" needs, none of the people he talked to would answer him. It was obvious that, in effect, Jessica had been blackballed from the entire school system. "Then what can we do?" Melanie asked. "I don't know," Blakely replied. "The agency has already told me that since Jessica has not shown any more signs of her premonitions that their interest in her has ended. And that means your interest in her will end, too. They have decided to have her placed in an orphanage." "They can't do that," Melanie said, rising from her chair. "They can't do that to that child. She deserves something better than being tossed aside like some used dishrag." "You know that I agree with you, Melanie," Blakely said, "But there is nothing I could do since they've reached their decision. We will just have to hope that she will be able to find some parents that would love her the way you do." Melanie was crying now. "But I don't want to lose her. I love her; she's such a sweet, innocent child." "The agency doesn't judge by love; it judges by usefulness, and in their minds Jessica's usefulness has come to and end." Neither agent noticed that the door to Jessica's bedroom was opened, or that the child had left her room and was standing on the opposite side of the wall to the living room. Jessica turned and walked back quietly to the room. She had been expecting something like this for a long time. It was the same pattern as it had always been; get a glimpse of happiness and then have reality come crashing down around you. To know her, she thought, was to hate her. She even had her doubts about Melanie. Maybe the woman was just putting on a show to impress Blakely. Jessica had prepared for this day. She knew it was only a matter of time until everyone wanted to get rid of her. That was the way it always was and always would be. She returned to her bedroom and closed the door softly behind her. She took her purse from the top of the dresser; she had a small amount of money that Melanie had given her the last time they had gone shopping. She knew that if she ran away she stood very little chance of surviving alone on her own but she didn't really care. Not any more. The grown-ups just didn't understand her at all. She had tried to kill her self once; why couldn't they understand that she no longer cared to be alive at all? Her dream of becoming a girl and having a happy life had turned out to be a nightmare in the end. The only reason anyone had ever put up with her was to see what they could get out of her, and now that her powers seemed to have gone away they wanted nothing further to do with her. She picked up a bag and put Ms. Tilliwink into it. She would not leave her favorite bunny behind, no matter what. She moved her chair near the window, then took one last look around the room and opened the window carefully. She would cut across her backyard and get onto the next street down from her own. There was an interstate bus terminal just a short distance away. She could make her way to the bus station and try to follow another family on board a bus, hoping that the station personnel would think she belonged with them. After that, well, she'd deal with that later. Of course, it'd be kind of difficult with he