MAU: The Thule Incident free porn video

MAU: The Thule Incident By Danielle J This story is dedicated to my friend, Linda Tholl. I'd like to thank Steve Zink for his proofreading in preparation for this story's publication. Also, I express my thanks to FM author ElrodW who allowed me some leeway in the MAU Universe to write this story. Our Cast C, D, X, A, and K - Agents who investigate 'Black box' sightings or cases P - Female Director of the agency the black box agents work for AT - P's administrative assistant Colonel Raymond Shaw - Base Commander of Thule Air Force Base, Greenland Major Steven Koval - Second in command, Thule AFB Captain Lucas Clayton - Aide to Colonel Shaw Captain Rick Vinson - Acting Chief Medical Officer, Thule AFB Colonel Samuel Nickerson - Assigned to Judge Advocate General's Office, Langley Air Force Base Virginia Lt. Michael Frost - Supply Officer at Thule AFB Senator Christopher Dodd - Senior United States Senator from the State of Connecticut Andrew Pemberton - Aide to Senator Dodd Dr. Real Desnoyers - Forensic Pathologist, Quebec, Canada Curtis Tyrone Smith - Auto repairman Tommy Hodges - Sheriff, Barlow, South Carolina Some of the men, or I mean women of Thule Air Force Base: Captain Ian McConnell SSgt. Toby Callison Sgt. Robert Tanner SSgt. Lee Jamieson CMSgt. Ed Sharp TSgt. Mark Bowden TSgt. Michael Teague SSgt. Calvin Waters SSgt. Tony Franklin TSgt. Chris Lang MSgt. Stu Hendricks TSgt. Claude "The Princess" Bennet MSgt. Danny Stewart Author's notes - this tale is not your typical MAU or TG fiction story. I have written it as an investigation of events that happen at a remote military base. All TG changes have already occurred. Much of the story is told in the form of interviews or flashbacks. I have also included a much larger cast of characters than most TG fiction stories. There is no one central TG character in the story. A large group of men have been Transgendered. The story mostly revolves around ten of these characters, not just one. It can be argued that the agents C and D and their boss P are the central focus of the story. As in the past, I try to be creative in my story telling. Here I am also taking a rarely seen approach to TG fiction. I hope you enjoy it. ***** Prelude Air Force Major Steven Weatherly didn't know it, but June 13, 1999 was to be the last day of his life. The Major was glad to inhale fresh air as he stepped out into the Fayetteville night shortly after 2 am. He had just spent the evening at one of his favorite hangouts, called Shooters. Shooters was a strip club and like most such clubs, was a smoke-filled establishment. Steven was a non-smoker. Fayetteville, North Carolina is a military town. Fort Bragg, one of the most important US Army installations, is located there and is home to both Special Forces and the elite 82nd Airborne Division. The base actually laid partially within the city limits. There was also nearby Pope Air Force Base and a little further away one more air force base and one marine base. All of this made Fayetteville a military town, and not surprisingly the town catered to the people who were a large portion of the city's economy. Military members, particularly young single ones often back from deployments to far away places that had little night life or chance for female accompaniment. Shooters was just one of many strip clubs in the North Carolina city catering to the military. Major Weatherly had arrived at the club around 10 pm. Taking a seat close to the runway, the Air Force officer settled in for a night of enjoyment. You see, Steven, age thirty-seven, was an officer but also divorced. Only briefly had he been married to an Italian woman named Maria who he met at Aviano Air Base in Italy; the marriage lasted barely two years. In retrospect, the Major thought Maria may have been only out for a green card, for shortly after her arrival in America she asked the Major for a divorce. Maria didn't even ask for alimony or support. This was all in Steven's distant past, and not at all on his mind that night at Shooters. Instead, he had come to the club to enjoy the sight of naked female flesh. That was all the Major would enjoy. The flight surgeon stationed at Pope AFB was very familiar with STDs and the fact that condoms were not one-hundred percent foolproof protection against them. So the Major confined himself to sight-seeing only. Little did Steven know, but someone was watching him in the club. The unknown watcher was seated at the bar wearing both a baseball cap and dark sunglasses. The latter were hardly needed in the dimly lit strip joint. The man didn't want to be recognized by his victim or be identified later on by any of the club's patrons. Major Weatherly stayed at Shooters till 2 am. That was when the club closed; there was a city ordinance that said all such clubs had to close at that hour. Just before closing, Steven settled his bar tab. The major was perfectly sober to drive home; he had had exactly one beer that evening. The rest of the time he had ginger ale. While the Major was settling his bill, his watcher was doing the same to make sure he exited the club before Major Weatherly. This he did. So as Major Weatherly walked to his car in the adjacent parking lot to Shooters, he absolutely suspected nothing. The medical officer was thinking of his plans for the next day. He was not scheduled to be on duty and was thinking about working out at a gym at Fort Bragg. Steven was halfway to his car when he heard a car engine start up. He paid no attention to it and continued on his way. This would prove to be fatal. Shooter's parking lot was almost totally empty at this time. The only cars remaining belonged to the employees and these were parked at the most distant part of the lot. This made it a perfect killing field for Major Weatherly's assailant. There was nothing to stop him. Steven Weatherly was still a good ten to fifteen yards from his car, when he noticed bright lights coming at him rather quickly. If the Major had reacted quickly he may have dodged his killer's attempt to run him over. Instead, the Major froze for a second like a deer in headlights before making a futile try to get out of the way. Major Weatherly didn't make it out of the Chevy Nova's way. Instead, he was struck by the speeding car at approximately the front left headlight. This drove the major into the hood of the automobile before catapulting him over the top of the car. The Nova continued to speed away. Major Weatherly, however, was dead before his body even hit the ground. All of this, or at least the latter portion, was witnessed by one of Shooters' strippers, one named Sherri Sizemore. She screamed at the horrible sight that unfolded before her eyes, and then ran back into Shooters to call for the police. The Fayetteville Police were on the scene ten minutes later. The first patrolmen to report checked the lifeless body of Major Weatherly and then called for both detective and the vehicular felony investigation units to come to the scene. It didn't take long for the investigators to rule the death a homicide. Based on the eyewitness testimony and other forensics, it was absolutely clear that Major Weatherly had been run down deliberately. There were no skid marks at the murder scene. However, the police knew little else about the crime. Sherri Sizemore had witnessed the crime but could not identify the driver. As to the car involved, Ms. Sizemore could just say it was a compact and a dark color. She hadn't seen the license plate number. This proved of little help. Employees of the club did mention the man who had been at the bar all night and had departed only minutes before Major Weatherly left. But descriptions varied, anywhere from the thirties to his fifties, tall, short. The ball cap and glasses the man wore didn't help matters at all. Neither did the fact that the man paid for his bar tab in cash help. No employee could recall seeing the man at Shooters before the night of the homicide. Other witnesses plus forensics weren't helpful. A few patrons said the car was an old Chevy or Ford but didn't know any more. The crime scene provided broken glass from the car headlight, but it was too generic to be matched to any one model of car. As to people who may have had a motive to see Major Weatherly dead, they were as sparse as the clues in the case. Interviews of the Major's commanding officer, co-workers, friends and associates at Pope AFB all said the same thing. Either they liked Major Weatherly or respected him as a fellow professional. These same people were all emphatic as to the Major having no enemies. An interview of the ex-wife, Maria Weatherly, was also conducted after she was tracked to Las Vegas, Nevada. There the former Air Force wife was found to be working in the 'adult' entertainment business using the name of Candy Money. This proved to be an expensive and fruitless dead end. Detectives' suspicions were aroused at first when the former Mrs. Weatherly shed no tears over her husband's death, but rather showed an interest in any life insurance payout. Through either some lost love for his wife or due to neglect, Major Weatherly had never changed the beneficiary to his life insurance. Candy could not hide her excitement at the unexpected windfall. The life insurance gave the ex-wife a motive, but connecting her to the crime proved impossible. First, Ms. Money cooperated with the police like she had nothing to hide, providing an airtight alibi and answering all questions. Second, there was no proof or link to the crime and the estranged couple. A month of digging provided nothing new to the investigation. The police were literally clueless in the case. They did get one mini-break seventeen days after the crime was committed. Fayetteville is a small sized city and has its own regional airport. Most flights go to Charlotte, but there were daily flights to Atlanta, also. Like all airports, Fayetteville had both long and short-term parking. The rules for short-term parking were simple. It was primarily for cars that would only be there for airport pickups. Any car parked there more than forty-eight hours saw the parking rates go to more than double those of long-term parking. This was to encourage drivers to use the proper lot. Cars parked in short-term parking more than fourteen days were subject to being towed. Jedidiah Brown had worked at Fayetteville airport for thirty years as a security guard. One of his jobs was to enforce the parking regulations at the airport. Most of this involved making certain cars were not improperly parked in front of the terminal building. His work also covered the airport's parking lot. The day after the murder, Jedidiah Brown noticed a Red Chevy Nova in the short-term lot. There were three reasons for this; Mr. Brown had owned one such similar car twenty years earlier. Secondly, the Nova was a long discontinued car model and rarely seen these days. Third, was that the rear driver side window was totally down. It was an old car, but owners usually took care of their vehicles. So when the two week period had passed, Jedidiah went to his supervisor about the vehicle. This was standard procedure, the airport would have to pay for the towing and this had to be authorized. This took a total of two more days. It was approximately 4 pm on June 30th when Andre Turner from Three Amigos Towing arrived at Fayetteville airport. After locating his friend Jedidiah, the tow truck driver and the security man went out to the apparently abandoned vehicle. The Nova was pulled forward into the parking space so it could be picked up from the rear and onto the truck's flatbed. Both men got out of the truck on arrival, but first Andre took a look at the car. "Don't see many of these anymore," Andre said, looking over the car as he prepared the chain. "No, I used to have one like this years ago. I think I sold it in 81," Jed replied. "This is that old at least," Andre said, momentarily stopping his work to appraise the car. It was such a relic, the tow truck driver began to walk around the vehicle like he was assessing a rare piece of art. "How many miles would you think are on it?" "Half a million, I bet." Andre nodded his head in agreement as he continued to view the car. As he came around the front end, something immediately caught the tow truck driver's attention. "Jed, come over here, there's something you ought to see." "Wow, I wonder what this car hit?" Jedidiah replied, seeing the badly dented front end and smashed driver side headlight. "But man, look at this," Andre said, pointing to specks of red on the fender. "If I'm not mistaken, that's blood." Jedidiah Brown immediately called over his walkie talkie for his supervisor to come out to the parking lot. The Fayetteville Police were soon summoned to the airport. Not long afterwards the car was impounded. A week later, DNA tests came back. The blood had been exposed to nature's elements for over two weeks, but it was ninety percent probable that it was Major Weatherly's blood on the car. Also, the glass shards found in the Shooters' parking lot matched the Chevy Nova. When police impounded the car, they ran a vehicle check on it. The South Carolina license plate on the car did not match the Nova. This proved only a temporary setback, there was still the vehicle identification number. The car's owner was a Myrtle Hayes, age seventy-three, living in Lumberton, North Carolina about twenty-five miles south of Fayetteville. Ms. Hayes, who was a retired postal employee, had reported the car stolen the morning before the fatal crash. Myrtle had been sick with worry for her car. She used it for church and for visits to see her nearby grandchildren. The owner had been grounded by the car's theft. Ms. Hayes had been the car's only owner and said the vehicle had in excess of 600,000 miles on it. The murder weapon lead soon turned into a dead end. No one in the neighborhood where Ms. Hayes resided had either seen the car being stolen or seen anyone unusual in the area. In Fayetteville, the police decided to use the local media for help. Both the local newspaper and one television station ran pieces on the still unsolved murder, asking if anyone had any information related to the case. Shortly after this, a Bill Miller came forward. He worked as a gas station clerk about one mile from Shooters. He remembered the Nova and its driver because it had been a particularly slow night. However, Mr. Miller's identification of the man was of as little help as the employees of the strip club. A man, age mid thirties or early forties, wearing dark glasses and a baseball cap. Hardly specific enough for an All Points bulletin. The store's video camera had also already taped over the murder night's footage. So the Fayetteville police were clueless in the death of Major Weatherly. It would be some time and until a totally unexpected source came forward that the crime would finally be solved. ***** Three years later. "Good morning, AT," said P, arriving at her office on a Monday morning. As was customary she went straight to the office coffee pot. Her coffee mug was there, clean and waiting for her. "How was your date last weekend?" "It was good, ma'am, and thank you for asking," said the twenty-six-year-old woman. AT would have been P's administrative assistant for three years come next January. In that time, AT had grown both to respect and admire her boss. "There are five phone messages for you." "That's good," P replied as she took her first sip of coffee. It wasn't her first cup that morning, but it still gave her a needed pep. Picking up her cup, P passed by AT's desk on the way into her office. The administrative assistant trailed along behind her. P went straight to her desk. First she placed her coffee cup down, and then put her purse on the small table directly behind the desk. "These are the phone messages," AT mentioned, passing them to her boss with her right hand. P took them from her. "That's beautiful," P said, noticing the big diamond ring on her secretary's hand. "I guess your boyfriend, or I mean..." "Yes, he proposed to me Saturday night," AT said very happily. Her boss came around the table to give her a big sisterly hug and kiss. "So when will the wedding be?" P asked after the hug ended. "Next summer, no date set yet," AT replied. "So I guess you will be quitting here?" "Maybe, ma'am. I haven't made up my mind yet." P was very happy for her assistant. She was about to ask something but decided to wait. It was Monday morning and there was a great deal of work to be done. "I want you to tell me all about it later, maybe over lunch." "Certainly," AT replied. She also liked her boss. P had always been kind to her, as she was to all the female staff at the office, sometimes even buying them lunch or fraternizing with them. "There are two more things that arrived over the weekend." P took another sip of her coffee as AT passed her a foreign language magazine. Apparently in Chinese or Korean. "What's this?" "Something you might find interesting," AT explained. "The English translation is attached to the article." "Okay, I see that," P said, briefly scanning the article that made her raise an eyebrow. The story was about South Korea's latest soap star, Jeoun Cheung. "Also, the latest report from Psych came in on Case 281-A. It will be in your email in box." 'The Thule incident,' P thought. 'Maybe it's finally time to put that case to rest.' The coffee was just kicking in, helping to clear the usual Monday morning confusion out of her head. "I've got to start making some phone calls," P said, returning to behind her desk and to her normal businesslike demeanor. "We'll chat more later." Once seated back at her desk, P instantly turned on her computer. While the machine booted up, the government administrator scanned the phone messages she had gotten. The most important of the five was from the Secretary of Defense. P and her agency weren't under the Defense Department's wing, but reported directly to the President and a very small Congressional oversight committee. There was no need to hurry calling back the Secretary. In the meantime, P decided to quickly read the magazine article she had been given by AT. Translated to English from Korean, the story told about the spectacular rise of South Korea's newest soap star, Jeoun Cheung. Ms. Cheung, a successful California theater actress, had recently emigrated to the ROK along with her two children so she could star alongside another soap star, Song Lee Oh. The two women played sisters on the same soap opera. The oddity was, both women looked so alike, they could pass for identical twins except neither woman was related to the other. 'Good for you, Jack, I wonder what your wife, Linda or Laura, thinks of you now.' P, unlike Ms. Cheung's new and appreciative fans, knew the woman's real story. Jeoun Cheung had been a US Army Captain till one day... P put both that thought and the magazine aside for the moment. Her computer was now ready and waiting for her. The director went straight to her interoffice mail. The final psych report for Case 281-A was there and it had been added to the entire incident report. Sipping her coffee, P waited the two minutes it took for the lengthy file to download. Once the file finished downloading, she clicked on the open button and began to read. Case 281- The Thule Incident November 1999 ***** C was surprised by the ringing of his bedside telephone. A clock radio said the time was 2:27. Rolling to his right, the agent outstretched his arm to retrieve the phone. "Hello." "We have another black box sighting. P says we are to leave now," said C's fellow agent, D. C immediately sat up in bed. Rubbing his still sleepy eyes, he asked, "Where?" "Greenland," D replied. "Thule AFB, to be specific. We're leaving in ninety minutes, I'll be picking you up in thirty minutes." ***** "There it is," said Captain Don Leong, pointing out the window for his passenger's sake. The Air Force officer was piloting the C-5 Galaxy transport plane in which C and D were traveling. They had left Dover AFB seven hours earlier. "We'll circle around before landing." C peered out the window at the falling snow. He had flown many miles in his life, but this was one of the few times he actually felt scared. A blizzard was engulfing the Air Force base that was only nine hundred miles from the North Pole. "Do you think it's safe to land?" "Ah, this is nothing," Captain Leong calmly said in reply, sounding confident. "As long as I can see the runway, I'll get this bird down." True to his word, Captain Leong did safely, but not too smoothly land the Galaxy. Once off the runway on one of the high speed turnoffs, the mammoth transport plane taxied back toward some hangar buildings. C and D were never happier to be back on dry, solid land in their lives. It wasn't till another ten minutes had passed that the door of the cargo transport was opened. After the plane had finished taxiing, it had to be towed into a hangar. Only once the plane and hangar were secured was the plane's door finally opened. "Welcome to Thule, sirs," said an Air Force airman in greeting as he threw C and D each a parka. He or she was so bundled up in his parka and protective eye wear that one wasn't sure what the person was. "You better put these on. It's only twenty below zero today." The administrative offices and living quarters at Thule were a half-mile from the hangar. After donning the parkas, C and D climbed into a large treaded SUV like vehicle for the short ride. Unlike the hangar, the administrative offices were a warm seventy-three degrees. The moment they got in the building, C and D took off their parkas. "Welcome to Thule," said a very attractive, or rather, beautiful blonde haired woman. The only thing odd was she wasn't wearing a regulation Air Force uniform. "If you'll follow me, I'll show you to your quarters." Thule rarely had visitors, but still had two luxury VIP suites. Both C and D were shown to separate ones that were directly across the hall from one another. "Colonel Shaw is inviting both of you to dinner at 2030," the female airman told D as he was getting comfortable in his room. "Should I tell him you will be joining him?" "Yes, you can," D said, calculating he had forty-five minutes to get ready. "I'll leave now. If you need anything, just pick up the room phone and dial the operator, the airman said and then left the room. ***** With drill like precision, C and D were brought into Colonel Shaw's personal quarters at 2030. The two agents stood in an outer waiting room for only a minute before the base commander entered. "Gentleman, welcome to Thule," said Colonel Raymond Shaw as he shook both agents' hands. He was in his early fifties and had a very grizzled appearance. "Come, let's eat in my dining room. I'm sure you're both hungry after your long trip." Colonel Shaw had a large, formal dining room where upwards of fifty people could be seated. It was probably too large for the seldom visited and soon to be closed base, but both agents surmised that maybe the Commanding Officer had large groups of men to dinner sometimes. An Air Force steward served a dinner consisting of roast beef with gravy and sides of baked potatoes and asparagus. The woman looked remarkably similar to the one that greeted C and D on their arrival at Thule. The two agents made repeated inquiries into the events of the last two weeks, only to have them ignored by Colonel Shaw. The thirty-year Air Force veteran preferred to keep the conversation to small talk. All throughout dinner, the Colonel alternated between eating and smoking a cigar. Once dinner was finished and cleared away and the steward dismissed for the night, Colonel Shaw took the two agents to his living room area. After a few pleasantries, including the offering of drinks or cigars, the colonel opened up but in a rather curt manner. "So I gather you are here to investigate that box?" "Yes, we are," D replied. Something about the interview was bugging the agent. D just couldn't put his finger on what it was. "But you aren't military?" Colonel Shaw was staring directly at where C was seated. His face showed no emotion, but his voice did. He appeared to be on edge. "No, we're not," D replied. "I shouldn't really be talking to you guys," Colonel Shaw said, champing down on his cigar. The man made an art out of talking with a cigar in his mouth. Neither agent cared for either the stench or smoke it produced. "Your cooperation will be appreciated," C said. "Our investigation is not for the Air Force or military." "But your boss, some P woman, reports to the Secretary of Defense." "Yes, she does," C replied, a little taken aback by Shaw knowing for whom he and D worked. However, Colonel Shaw was misinformed as to whom P actually reported. "But we aren't here for that." Colonel Shaw just stared straight ahead without speaking a word for about two minutes. With him still champing down on the cigar. Neither C nor D could tell either what the Air Force Officer was looking at or was thinking as they just sat there in silence. Finally the colonel began slowly nodding his head. "You will have my own and my men's complete cooperation." "Thank you," D said, finally speaking up. "We'd like to start doing interviews tomorrow morning." "My aide, Captain Clayton, will be available to you. I will instruct him to give you any and all assistance." "Sir, we'd like to start by interviewing you. Possibly in the morning." Again C and D were met by silence. Putting the cigar back in his mouth, Colonel Shaw began with that stare of his again. "As you can imagine, I'm a busy man." "We understand that, sir, but we'd like to talk to you..." "My aide will see that you get any assistance you need," Colonel Shaw answered, glancing at his watch. Then he rose from his chair. "It's getting late, men, and I have a full day ahead of me tomorrow." C and D would have preferred to keep talking, but knew their time was up. So they got out of their chairs. Colonel Shaw ushered them to the door. "Report to my office at 0800, and Captain Clayton will be expecting you," Colonel Shaw said as he opened the door. And as if he needed to stress it, the officer said again, "I promise both of you that my men will fully cooperate with you." C and D walked back to their quarters without speaking a word, but both were not surprisingly thinking the same thing. Was Colonel Shaw trying to ramrod their investigation? ***** SSgt. Lee Jamieson was trying to get some badly needed sleep when she was awakened by a screaming woman somewhere nearby. In order to drown out the noise, Lee rolled to where she was facing the wall and used a blanket to cover an ear so as to muffle the sound. This only slightly decreased the decibel level. However, the screaming did manage to slowly die down, allowing the staff sergeant to fall asleep. The sleep didn't last for very long. Within a few minutes, a Hispanic looking woman in her early twenties turned on the room's main lights. She went straight to where Lee was sleeping and started to wake the airman. "Lee, wake up, we've got trouble. You've got to come outside." Jamieson rolled onto her other side to face the woman. "Mike?" "Yes, it's me," TSgt. Michael Teague replied. "We have trouble in room three, we need you." Lee Jamieson hopped straight out of bed. Just throwing on a bathrobe to keep warm, the sergeant joined her friend in walking over to barracks room D3. All the lights in room D3 were on, and approximately twenty soldiers were gathered in the room. Each and every single woman in the room, Lee and Michael included, were exact doubles of one another. Lee went straight to one seated in a chair at the table in the middle of the room. Two other soldiers were trying to console the crying woman. She had been badly beaten. "What happened?" Lee asked. The woman just continued to cry. "Lee, I'm Ian," said the woman squatting next to the injured woman. The men in barracks D had learned to start off conversations by introducing themselves. So people would know who they were talking to. "Danny was working tonight. When she got off of her shift she came to the barracks. And this happened." Lee avoided the temptation to curse. She didn't want to upset Danny more than she was. "Do we know who did this?" "No, but we know she was coming through Barracks C on the way back," Michael Teague said, speaking up. "Hendricks found her." "We'd better get her to sickbay right away," Lee said, trying to take control. She wasn't the senior soldier in the barracks, but sort of the un-elected barracks chief. A job Lee wished she never had to hold. At the moment there were thirty-four women congregating in Barracks D. "Jim, what do you think?" It had been a good guess as to who was trying to tend to Danny's injuries. Jim Thiele was the barracks unofficial medic. "Definitely, the sooner the better." Lee got back to her feet. Motioning with her head, the sergeant said, "Guys, we need to talk." A minute later, eighteen women had gathered in the hallway outside room D3. Only Jim and Ian stayed inside to tend to Danny. The women lined both sides of the hall while Lee paced back and forth thinking. "Communications?" Barracks D until nine days earlier had been shut down and without power, water or phones. Only through the intrepid and hard work of two Air Force mechanics named Hendricks and Smitty had the barracks started looking like living quarters again. Phones were still out. Both lines to the outside world were probably cut off by Major Koval, as they had all over Thule except in administration or Thule's internal communications. Hendricks had been trying for days to get them up and running, but the system was still not working. There were several reasons for this. Thule's planned closure in 2000 had left any unused systems to basically rot away. This combined with Hendricks' not having proper repair equipment but what she could scrounge, and just too many jobs to be worked on, left the only way to call sickbay non-operational. "Oh, hell, I'll get right back on it, Chief," Hendricks said, speaking up. "I got two hours sleep that wasn't so bad. Smitty?" "I'm with you," said a still disturbed Jason Smith, aka Smitty. She was Hendricks' helper whenever she felt up to it. After her unwanted change into a woman, Jason like many other now Thule women had felt violated and had difficulties coping. She was better off than many of her comrades, but Jason still had times when all she wanted to do was cry and she would do just that. As Smitty and Hendricks left to gather their tools and get to work, Ed Sharp spoke up. "I know where I can find a maintenance cart. We'll probably need it for Danny." "Good idea, Ed, go get it," Lee replied, still deep in thought as Sharp passed her. She wasn't used to being in command, Lee accepted it however, a bit reluctantly. Right now the weight of thirty-four women's lives was weighing heavily on her. Right after the vast majority of men at Thule were changed into women, discipline began to break down. The officers, the thirteen men who were still men, were leaving the new women to fend for themselves. Some guys turned gals cynically believed the officers hoped the women would all kill each other off. To save the officer's skins or careers. Sure enough, some fighting did break out. Its roots or cause may have been as simple as loneliness. The men turned women at Thule had been separated from their families or female companionship for the duration of their Thule stay. Some were there on six-month tours, some on yearlong tours. The lack of sex had always led to frustration for some men stationed at the far northern base. Before the Change, two men getting together was unheard of. First, the men of Thule if asked would have professed to be totally heterosexual or attracted to women only. Not at all interested in having sex with a man. If any were interested, they kept silent for good reason. They'd be ostracized if not thrown in a jail cell. Don't ask, don't tell wasn't in force at Thule. So when 482 men were changed into women, the inhibitions against having sex with another soldier began to erode and disappear entirely. A formerly straight male attracted to women, found herself female and still attracted to women. It didn't matter that their fellow airman was male on the inside, it was their body that counted. And women were no longer in short supply at Thule. Airman slowly began taking comfort with other airmen. Straight guys were now acting like lesbians. As one new dyke not so eloquently put it, "I liked putting my dick into a pussy before. Now I like to lick pussy instead. Doesn't matter, I will always like pussy, and I even have my very own!" The motives for this coupling were as varied as the men turned women themselves. Some did it for true companionship. Some did it for just for the sex. Some did it out of curiosity, some did it because they felt traumatized by what had been done to them and felt safe and comforted in another's arms. This innocent coupling sparked a near riot one night. One white woman shared a barracks room with five black women. The Whitey or Albino was Catholic, and felt sick at the sight of some of her roommates boinking their new lesbian brains out. She made the poor decision of telling her roommates exactly that. The gal got a beating at the hands of her roommates and was kicked out of the room. When other Albinos found out, more fighting started. Sides were taken, and almost without exception the choice was based on skin color. The Whiteys, being the biggest group, were not afraid to throw their weight around. While this was going on, the Hispanics or Spics and Asians sometimes called Chinks or Lucys tried to stay out of the crossfire. Within days of the changes, the White women now called the Albinos populated all of A barracks and most of C. The Blackies took B barracks for themselves. The Lucys took the far end of the C barracks or some stayed with Blackies or Albinos. Two nights after the change, Lee along with Mike Teague, Ed Sharp, Hendricks, Smitty and Danny decided they'd better find a safer spot. D barracks was officially shut down and not in use. But the five women decided to camp out there. The first few nights were almost like living in an igloo, but through Hendricks and Smitty's hard work the barracks began to become livable. The officers basically didn't care, nor did they ever check. The word slowly got out and every night a few more Hispanic women came down to D block. By tonight there were thirty-four women in D block, all but one Hispanic, the other a Lucy. Lee Jamieson was their leader. She wasn't elected, she was actually outranked by half the barracks. But the women turned to her, or sometimes Mike Teague or Ian McConnell when help or advice was needed. Seeing her fellow airmen in need of help, Lee felt obligated to try to help them through this ordeal. If they all pulled together, they would all come out of this in one piece. "Okay, guys," Lee said, speaking up as she paced. More women were coming out of their rooms. By her count she thought almost all the women in barracks D were now in the hallway. That was good, because she had something to say. "First we need to make sure nothing ever happens again like what happened to Danny. Suggestions?" Mike Teague spoke up. "I think we need to make it a rule, never leave the barracks alone. Always go with someone else." "We'll need someone to take care of those of us who work night or middle shifts," Mark added. She was the only Lucy present. "Good idea, Mark," Lee said. "Guys, I want you all to say hello to Mark. She joined us tonight, and I want all of us to make sure she feels welcome." The women did exactly that. Mark then spoke up. "Thanks, all of you, I feel much safer here." "You are welcome here, so are all the Lucys," Lee said. "I'll talk about that more later. Any other ideas or suggestions as to going back and forth to the barracks?" No one else said anything. So Mike Teague spoke up. "Then it's effective immediately, none of us leaves here alone, and the same goes for coming back. If anyone is on the night shift, we'll make sure you're met. It's for the good of us all." "Another security matter," Lee said. "I think we need to post two people during the night. 2200-0600, one at each end of the barracks. Input?" "Do we really need two men? How many hours a shift?" Ed Sharp spoke up. "Two hours a shift. With thirty-four of us, no one would do more than two a week. That's if we do two men...err, women." "Is it really necessary? Nothing has happened down here. Most everyone leaves us alone," another woman said. "I think it is," Mark replied. "Look at what happened to Danny tonight." "We have four entrances to this barracks, also," Ed Sharp added. "Three, unless you're a polar bear," one airman shared, and the women laughed. "Let's take a vote," Mike Teague said. "All in favor of two men on guard duty, raise your hand." Hands shot up, up and down the hallway. There were one or two stragglers. Also, Jim and Ian came out of the room. "Two men a shift it is," Mike Teague said. "If no one objects, I'll make up the schedule and it takes affect tomorrow night." Lee turned to Jim. "How's Danny?" Jim rotated her hand back and forth. "She's sleeping, but hurt and scared shitless. Danny's in bed now, but I think we still need to take her down to the doc." Lee turned so he could look straight at Jim. "Can she wait ten minutes, till this meeting is done?" "Sure," Jim replied. "I've got a suggestion, guys..." Michael Teague began to say. "We hardly look like guys now, or feel like one," one woman said. Most of those in the hallway concurred with their fellow airman. "I've got an idea," Mike said, speaking up to continue. "Barracks D, our Danny. How about the Dannys?" "Dannys sounds good to me," Ed Sharp said. The nodding of heads in the hall made it look unanimous. The Dannys it was. "While we're at it, I think we should call Mark and the others like them the Lucys." "Lucy is fine with me," Mark said. "Just don't call us Chinks." "We won't," Ed Sharp said in reply. Mark was already feeling at home with the Dannys and vice versa. "Not like the niggers over in B barracks. Or the assholes in A," one woman said. "That brings up the next thing we need to discuss," Lee said, noting who it was that had spoken. He didn't like Ron's choice of names for their fellow soldiers, but the sergeant would say something in private to Ron not in front of other Dannys. "I want to get the rest of the Dannys all here at D barracks, and unless people object, the rest of the Lucys also." "How about space, showers?" a woman named Rick asked. "I mean, can we handle what, a hundred of us?" "Ed, what do you think?" Lee asked. "We have the physical space and the beds to room two hundred here in D barracks. Now, Hendricks and Smitty are getting the power and heat back on through more and more of the barracks every day. We can do it." "How about, you know, I mean the bathrooms? We only have one right now," Juan asked. "She has a point," one airman said, speaking up. "We only have three toilets, and there are thirty-five of us already." "And only three toilets," Ed said. "Unless some of you guys want to go and try doing it standing up," one Danny said. The women broke out laughing. "No way. When I get back home to the wife, I'll never forget to put the seat back down again," another airman added. Lee was happy to see her fellow airmen laughing. The Dannys were becoming like a big family, and in her opinion this would help them get through the current crisis. "Ed, how are we supply wise?" "You mean toilet paper?" Ed asked. Lee nodded her head. "We've got enough to last us to two millenniums from now. Other stuff we're okay, except for the female stuff. Some came in today, but the Albinos grabbed it all." "You mean...?" Ron asked. "Oh shit, we're going to have periods. That's going to really suck big-time." "The Albinos started this morning. Every single last one of them," Ed said. She wasn't currently married, but was once for four years. No children. So she did have a passing acquaintance with that monthly female issue. "Most women have twenty-eight day cycles. We have been women for fifteen days. So we have at most two weeks left." The hallway grew awfully quiet. Their first menses approaching was just another reminder to the airmen of how their lives had been changed. Most were asking themselves if they would ever be a man again. Lee decided to get back on topic. "Ed, how long before we can get another bathroom up and running?" "Supposedly, head number two was almost ready, but you know who our plumber was?" Ed half asked. Everyone knew the answer. "With Danny out of commission, we don't know when it will be on line." "Lee," Mark said, speaking up, "I know a little about plumbing. I'd be willing to give it a shot." "Thanks, Mark, you're a bud," Lee said, and Mark was about to get to work when she spoke up again. "Wait a few more minutes before starting. We're almost done with the meeting." "Sure, Chief," Mark replied, taking a spot again in the hallway. "I'm not anyone's Chief," Lee shot back. "Just like you all, I am here just trying to survive day to day." "If you don't mind me saying so, Lee," Ed Sharp said, speaking up, "you are the barracks chief. Wanted or not." Michael Teague decided it was time to speak up. "I nominate Lee Chief of Barracks D and the Dannys." "I second the nomination," said one of the women in the hallway. "All in favor?" Michael Teague asked. The ayes were tumultuous and enthusiastic. "Opposed?" Not even a murmur was heard. "Congrats, Lee." "Thanks a lot, Mike," Lee said, pretending to punch her friend and fellow Danny. "Now it's my turn. We need a deputy or deputies. I nominate Michael Teague." "I second it," said Ed Sharp. "All in favor?" Again the vote was unanimous and affirmative. Lee then said with a laugh, "That's what you get for making me chief." "I think we should have one more deputy," Ron said. "I nominate Ian." Ian was actually the only officer in Barracks D. A Captain with the Scottish Guards, he was on loan to Thule from NATO when he and the rest of the Dannys were changed into women against their wishes. In addition, Ian was having a tough time coping with the change. Back in the UK she had a wife named Margaret and three boys. A letter had arrived two days earlier from Margaret; the woman had written saying how worried and upset she was because Ian hadn't written or called in nearly two weeks. The Captain took this all very badly to say the least. "Sorry guys, or I mean, Dannys. Pick someone else please, I just don't feel up to it," Ian said, trying to act strong. Ed Sharp put an arm around her fellow airman. "That's all right, Ian. We understand. Right guys?" All the women were sympathetic to Ian's plight and understood why she had to turn the job down. Most of the other Dannys had concerns for their families also, and besides that, what the future would portend for them. Further down the hall, Mark Bowden just couldn't help noticing a Danny across the hallway. The airman or Danny that she didn't know a name for had been winking or blowing kisses at her almost the whole time they were in the hallway. The Danny doing the winking was a sergeant named Chris Lang. She decided to say something. "I nominate Mark as a Deputy Barracks chief." 'Smart idea, whoever your name is,' Lee thought. Mark had shown more than a little brains and ingenuity during the impromptu meeting. By making a Lucy a deputy, the ties developing between the two groups of women would have an excellent chance of success. Again Ed Sharp spoke up. "I second the nomination. All in favor?" To Mark's slight discomfort the vote was unanimous. Seeing Lee waving for her to come down the hallway to join the other barracks chiefs, Mark couldn't help noticing that one Danny who had nominated her. She had the biggest grin on her face. "One more suggestion," Ed said. "I think it may be an idea for each room to elect a Captain. The room Captains report to Mark, Mike and Lee. What do you all think?" Again the consensus was unanimous, or nearly so. A vote wouldn't be necessary, but Mike Teague still felt it was necessary to speak up. "Good idea, but I suggest it be done tomorrow. Remember, all of you, if you have a problem, a suggestion or just need advise, Mark, Lee and I are always available to any of you." "Mike, I couldn't have said it better myself. Now that that is over with," Lee said as he and Michael Teague welcomed Mark into the Barracks leadership, "let's get back on topic so we can all go to sleep. We were talking about inviting more Dannys and Lucys down here to Barracks D. Anyone have objections, other than the bathroom issue?" There wasn't any. Then Jim spoke up. "It may be best to limit how many we invite till we get another bathroom working." "Agreed," Mike Teague said. Mark and I will see to who gets invited till further notice. Mark, you know anyone who would want to come down?" "Sure, three or four at least. Maybe as many as six." "Invite them, we'll find room for them," Mike Teague said. "Will do." "Now, we've got to talk about the Albinos and Blackies..." "Shit," Ron said. "After what those assholes did to Danny we should go up there and beat the shit out of them." "Dumb idea, soldier," Ed Sharp said. "There are two hundred fifty plus of them and only thirty-four of us. That's a mismatch if I ever heard of one." "Are we just to sit back and take our lumps then?" one woman asked. "No, but we've got to play things smart. We're smarter than them, let's use our brains," Ed said. "Yes, strategy," Mike Teague said. "But I think, and Lee say something if you disagree, we need to keep a low profile. Yes, defend ourselves, but don't go looking for trouble, either." "I agree," Lee replied. "The rest of you? Any thoughts?" "I think the chief is right," Ian said. "So we avoid the Albinos as much as we can. That leaves the Blackies. Ed, you've been speaking with them some. Why don't you give us a report?" Lee said. Ed stepped away from the wall so all the women could see and hear her. "As you know, all the African-Americans or Blackies are now congregating in Barracks B. There are about one hundred and ten of them. For the last few days I've been talking with them about us joining in an alliance. "Their leader is one of my men or women down at the hanger. She's a loader called Claude Bennet, a tech sergeant. Over at Barracks B everyone calls her the Princess." "The Princess?" Jim asked. "Yeah, it's true. It's fucking weird, but true. Then again, the whole setup at Barracks B is weird. Back to Claude or the Princess. We've been talking about joining together, but pardon me for saying it, she is one weird bitch." "Why is that?" Lee asked. "First, she has the other women over at B waiting on her hand on foot. Like they're servants of hers or something. Plus when we talk, first she talks about us Dannys and Lucys joining the Blackies as some sort of sisterhood. Then she changes topics and talks about them taking us over. By force." "She is a weird bitch. Can we trust her?" one woman asked. "My opinion is, we stay friendly but don't align with them. I don't know if we can trust this Princess," Ed said, giving her honest appraisal. "Besides, we probably won't have to worry about alliances for long." "Yes, we had visitors come today, if you haven't heard," Lee said, taking control again. "Two government agents came this afternoon. They are here to investigate what happened. More are coming as soon as tomorrow, right Ed?" "Affirmative. Another plane with supplies and investigators is supposed to be arriving tomorrow. The two guys today weren't Air Force, but we have to expect some soon." "You said supplies came in today?" one of the women asked. "Clothing for us?" For almost ten days the men turned women of Thule were having to improvise when it came to clothing. With alterations, pants, and shirts were able to be made to fit but the bigger problem was underwear. None of the Dannys had come to Greenland with 36DD bras packed. "For us, not yet. Today was mostly for the Albinos. You should have seen the run for the sanitary napkins." This produced a good laugh among the women. "We should be getting our gear today or tomorrow, weather permitting. There's a storm front expected late tomorrow." "Anyone know if these agents or the Air Force can help us?" Chris asked. "I mean, will we be become men again?" "All I have heard is rumors," Ed Sharp said. "Me, too," Lee said. "I work up in Operations and I'm as much in the dark as all of you." "I've heard we're going to be like this forever. There's no way of changing back," one woman said. "We don't know that yet," Ed said, trying to boost morale. "Don't give up hope, I haven't." "Yes, we've got to keep believing," Michael Teague said. "I've got a wife and two children back at Charleston. I want to see them again. Don't believe the rumors. We will be told the truth by an officer soon." The women in the hallway remained silent for nearly a minute. "Don't believe the rumors," Lee added, speaking up. "I heard we are all going to be Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders," Larry said. This produced a good laugh that seemed to ease the tension. "Umm...talking about television, I may know who you Dannys are supposed to be?" Mark said, turning to Lee. "Shoot, go ahead, Mark," Lee said, letting her deputy take the floor. The Dannys had been curious about who they had been modeled after. After Mark got through explaining, Lee planned on talking quickly on two more subjects before wrapping up the meeting. Most of the women in the hall were yawning. With good reason, a ten-minute meeting had already gone a half hour and it was past 0200. Most of the women would have to rise at 0545. "Over at C barracks where I used to live, there are some magazines in one of the recreation rooms. I saw an old People magazine there," Mark explained. "So who are we? A movie star? A famous model?" were some of the questions asked by the women in the hallway. "Not exactly, I think we're...I mean, you're all Alicia Machado. She was Miss Universe in 1997." "What, I'm a beauty queen?" Jim asked. "Miss Venezuela to be exact. She's really quite pretty. But I think you got bigger breasts." The shock or surprise of what Mark said settled in rather quickly. "I'm no pageant contestant," Larry said. "No, you're not. You're a fucking lesbian," a woman directly across the hallway said. "Who's calling who a lesbian?" Larry asked, seeming annoyed. "I am. Lesbian." An exchange between the two women started. Both started stepping away from the wall. "Cunt." "Dyke." The two women were now inches apart. Then suddenly Larry grabbed the other woman named Ray and began to kiss her. Not surprisingly, Ray didn't fight back. Most of the women in the hallway whooped and hollered as the embrace went on. Lee decided to interrupt. "You two can continue this later. Everyone here wants to get to bed before 0500." The two women stopped kissing. "Sure, Chief," Larry said as she and Ray held hands. "I'm a dyke, too." Ray smiled, then both women went back to where they were standing before. "Looking like Miss Universe isn't so bad," Larry added. "At least we don't look like some Internet porn star named Daisy." It was well known among the Thule women that the Albino's appearance was based on a woman called Daisy. This Daisy had a very popular Internet website that drew millions of visitors daily to see her fantastically large cleavage. Through his job at Operations, Lee knew that many Albino women weren't taking their new bodies very well. Upset at being turned into what for some had once been their ideal of a wet dream, some forty plus Albinos were now in sick bay unable to cope with life. "Thanks, you two, you brought up one of the last two things I want to go over before we get back to sleep," Lee said. She noticed Jim had ducked back in the recreation room to check on Danny. "First, as we all saw here, some of us are coupling with another Danny." This caught the attention of all the women in the hallway. Almost half, or sixteen, had coupled to date. "Speaking for Mike, and Mark speak up if you've got input, we have no objection to anyone doing this. With two provisos." The women all listened, but were also in desperate need of sleep. So Lee cut to the point. "First, it can't interfere with your duties. Either for the base or any work you are asked to do here in the barracks. Second, some of you haven't coupled. Some of you have. Respect each other if someone else's choice varies from your own. Agreed, everyone?" The women almost all nodded. A few spoke. "Yes, chief, agreed." "I just don't know how any of you can fuck one another," Ed Sharp said, speaking up. "Why is that, Ed?" Larry asked. "Because one of you has to try making love to someone who has their ass in your face. I don't know how you can stand smelling someone else's shit!" The whole hall broke out laughing. "Because it's good, Ed. You've got to try it," Larry said. "The rest of you can. It doesn't bother me, but I'll just pass." "That's good, Ed. If anyone is uncomfortable around those coupled, I mean, want to be moved to a more private room, come and see Mark, Mike or myself. We will get you another room assignment," Lee said. The yawning was increasing in the hallway, but Lee was finally at the end. "Lastly, all of us...I mean all the women here at Thule have been through a great ordeal over the last two weeks. It hasn't been easy for any one of us. "But what I have noticed here at Barracks D, Dannys and Lucys alike, is that we have kept our respect for each other. I want us to keep it that way. I'd even hope we'd grow into almost a family. At least till this ordeal or trial is over. We need each other, all of us. Together we'll get through this." "Amen to that," one woman said. There was no dissension. They would pull together to help one another. "If you have a problem, I, Mike or Mark are always here for every one of you. Mike and I are in room D1." "I'm in room D5," Mark added. None of the women spoke. They all appeared satisfied for the time being. "Good. Now, if no one else has something to say, we're dismissed," Lee said to the hallway of women. The meeting was over. Almost all the women went back to their respective rooms to get some sleep. That is except for Mark, Mike and Lee. "Welcome aboard, Mark." Mike and Lee shook their deputy's hand. "We're glad to have you." "Thanks, I hope I won't let any of you down," Mark replied. "You won't, we know it," Mike said. "Three things," Mark said. "If you want, I'll grab that magazine tomorrow so all the Dannys can see it. What do you think?" "Sure, I want to see it myself," Lee replied. Mark had piqued her curiosity. "Second, where are Danny's tools? I want to get to work on the other bathroom." "Danny kept them in the bathroom's supply room, it's just inside the door to your left," Mike said. "Thanks," Mark said, getting ready to leave. "Do you want my help with..." Ian, Jim, and Ed emerged from the nearby recreation room. A wobbly Danny was with them. Lee walked over to her injured friend. "Danny, how are you feeling?" "Not so good. I hurt all over," Danny replied in a voice barely above a whisper. "We," Ed said speaking up, "all three of us, Jim and Ian and I, I mean. We will get Danny to sick bay." "Think you can make it, walking on your own?" Lee asked Danny. "I'll make it." "We're here to help her. We'll go via Barracks B. I know Princess and a few of the Blackies if there are any problems." "If you will excuse me, I'll get going on the plumbing," Mark said as she headed off to the bathroom. "Get well fast, Danny," Mike said, and Lee added something similar. "I will," Danny replied, and then with the help of Ed, Jim and Ian the badly injured woman slowly made her way down the hall. ***** Mark and Mike made the short walk back to their room, D1. "I sure hope Danny is just physically hurt," Mike said. "Me, too," Lee replied. "For her sake. Don't tell this to anyone but Mark. Jim thinks Danny may have been sexually assaulted besides being beaten." "Shit!!" "That kind of sums it up." "How? Why?" Mike asked in disbelief. The two women decided to talk in the hallway rather than enter the room yet. "I really don't understand it either. What drives some people to violence is beyond me. Danny did absolutely nothing." Mike paused for a moment. "Lee, tell me the truth if you know it. Can we be changed back?" Lee shook her head. "I overheard Clayton talking the other day in Ops. The machine won't ever start again. He said we're stuck." "Shit," was all that Mike could think of saying for now. ***** Mark Bowden had successfully found and gathered Danny's tools in the bathroom and was on the way to the second bathroom, when she was not so surprisingly bumped into by a Danny. "Hi, Mark, my name is Chris." "Hi, Chris," Mark answered, continuing to the second bathroom. She had work to do and still hoped to get some sleep before having to go to work in the morning. So Mark wasn't much in the mood for small talk. "Don't tell me. You're the one who nominated me to be Lee's deputy." "Yes, I was," Chris replied as Mark walked into the second bathroom. The Danny followed. "Thanks," Mark said a bit sarcastically. A quick look see of the bathroom and shower area showed that Danny had been working on some of the pipes in one part of the large room. Still, the Lucy needed to ascertain what was and wasn't working. "You're welcome. I thought you'd be good for the job," Chris said, following Mark around like a lovesick puppy. "Can I ask you something?" "Sure, go ahead. Don't mind me if I'm working." "I won't," Chris said, trying to summon up some courage. She really found Mark very cute, and Chris felt lonely in addition to being disgusted at what had been done to her. "You aren't coupled, are you?" Mark was just getting on her back to check the pipes below a sink when she heard Chris' question. She looked at the Danny for a few moments before replying. "No, I'm not." Chris inhaled and asked away. "Would you like to see me? I mean, tonight, later on?" Mark looked up at Chris. She was a married man, but they had no children. What would Paula think if she found out? Would Paula find out? What did life have in store for Mark after Thule? Would she be a man again? Mark didn't have the answers. No one except for maybe the officers at Thule did. The whole decision for the Lucy was, does she live for now or the future? The future was so uncertain, Mark decided to live for the now. Besides, she wanted to find out what it would be like making love with another woman. Some friends at C barracks had told her the sex was incredible. You could have multiple orgasms. "Sure. Tonight after work? I'm working seven to three." "Thank you, I'm doing the same shift. I'll leave you alone now." Chris was overjoyed and ready to leave, except Mark had one more question. "One question. Your cot or mine?" the Lucy asked with a sly grin. ***** As soon as Ed Sharp entered B barracks she was sure that she, Ian, Jim and Danny were being watched. No one was in the hallway, but doors were cracked partly open and the E8 was certain people were inside watching. The journey to sick bay was taking time. Danny was very wobbly at best but insistent she make the trip on her own two feet. With Ian on one arm and Jim on the other to balance her, Danny fought through the pain to get the medical care she needed. Ed trailed along behind them, keeping her eyes open for any sign of trouble. Not that she was looking for it, but she still remained alert. The four women had traversed maybe half of B barracks when a Blackie stepped out into the hall directly in front of them. Ten paces down the hall, another stepped out. Then two more stepped out, to the rear of the four Dannys. Not one of the Blackies said a word. They just stood there, motionless. 'What the fuck do we do now?' Ed thought to herself. Jim, Ian and Danny had stopped in their tracks about five feet short of one of the Blackies. They, like the guards, were just standing there waiting for someone to make the first move. "May I ask what brings all of you here?" asked the woman directly in front of the four women from Barracks D. "We're on the way to sick bay. Can't you see this woman is hurt?" Jim replied, nodding toward Danny. Ed watched as the women just stood there expressionless in the hallway. 'What are these women? Robots or zombies? I don't care which, let us on our way.' There was no change in the hallway till a hand appeared out of a doorway directly between the woman and Ed with the three other Dannys in the middle. The hand was as tanned as the women in the hallway and laying flat with its palm facing downward. Then the hand withdrew itself from the doorway. As if on cue, all four Blackies moved out of the path of the four women, allowing Jim, Ian, Danny and Ed back on their way. As they passed, Ed spoke out. "Thank you." He got no reply. Once out of B barracks, it was only a twenty-yard walk to the sick bay. However, by this time the simplest of steps was almost impossible for Danny. Seeing this, the three other Dannys came to the rescue. With Ed supplying support from the rear, Ian and Jim both slung an arm over Danny as they almost carried the woman the rest of the way to sick bay. As the four Dannys entered the sick bay, a ringing sound went off to alert whoever was on duty that someone was there. The room was a small lobby like area, both dimly lit and totally devoid of life. With no one in sight, Ian and Jim decided to let Danny sit down as they waited. It was two minutes before a Blackie nurse appeared. She wore a name tag that said William. "May I help you?" "Our friend is hurt, she needs medical care," Ed said. "Is she able to walk?" the nurse asked. Ian gave a quick negative. "I'll be right back with a wheelchair." Less than five minutes later, all five women were in a small examination room. The nurse begun by taking Danny's vitals and beginning a chart for her new patient. "Maybe you three should step outside," the nurse said, as she wanted to start her patient's physical exam. "I want them to stay," Danny said, speaking up as loud as she could. "As you wish, but your friends must remain quiet and out of way while I examine you," William explained. The exam took ten fifteen minutes. There probably wasn't an inch the nurse didn't examine, and there weren't all that many spots on Danny's body that didn't show any sign of bruising. William asked how it happened. Danny said some peop