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Note - The Syndicate was created by LanaB and used with her gracious permission. Cat and Mouse: Who's Feminizing Tony Bass? By Bluto WEEK FOUR Micki sat on a lawn chair under an umbrella in her apartment buildings backyard, a rare amenity indeed in the middle of New York City. She appreciated the shade on such a typical hot, humid summer day and was cooling off after a morning of activity. She had abandoned her shoes and socks much earlier and was examining her toes, which were growing some sharp, claw-like nails. "The process never stops," she thought to herself, with a sigh. "This body is amazing. Tiny as I am, I feel like I can do just about anything. Anything but pee standing up, that is." To any casual, or not so casual, observer, Micki was a cute little four-year-old girl, with big blue eyes, a button nose, straight black hair and a smile to warm the soul. In actuality, little Micki was Mick Montana, a 28-year-old man who had been magically transformed about a month ago. Now he was destined to become a copy of his voluptuous friend Katherine Filin, better known as The Cat, whom the Lion Demon, Malato-Zu, had used to seduce and change him. Although she started out as a baby, Micki was growing up fast, at the rate of about a year for every week that passed, and it seemed to her that she learned more about what her remarkable new body was capable of each day. She was already as strong as she had been as a full-grown man and her senses of hearing and smell were becoming more and more acute. "Now that the wind is blowing in the wight diwection I'll close my eyes and see if I can tell how many squirrels are in the old oak twee by scent alone," she said to Caesar, the fat, lazy family cat who had joined her in the shade. "Want to bet I find them all, old chum? Glad you're not scared of me like you are of Kathewin. I'd hate it if you wan away fwom me, too." Micki was happy she could pretty much speak like a normal person, not in the frustrating "Elmer Fudd" talk forced on her by a soft pallet. Only the occasional "R" that was turned into a "W" betrayed her now. She sniffed out exactly seven bushy tail scents in the big tree, and then she sensed someone else quietly trying to sneak up on her. "Hello, Betsy, how are you today?" she said, without turning her head. It was Mrs. Dodson's daughter, a tall, gawky, bispeckeled 10- year-old and the only child living in the building until now. Cat didn't much like Betsy because she was blunt and rude and, frankly, nosy. But Mick had always sympathized with the awkward child. Her father left soon after she was born and her mother had to work two jobs to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table. As far as Mick could tell, she had no friends. "How'd you know it was me? Are you Cat's daughter? I thought you were a baby. Mrs. Andrette says you're the daughter of Cat and Mr. Montana. Are they married?" Micki remembered she was still in Cat's arms sucking on her teat the last time she saw Betsy and took a moment to consider what lie to tell. "Well, Betsy, if Mrs. Andwette says it, it must be twu. Do you think I look like Cat and Mr. Montana?" "You sure do. You've got pretty eyes like Mr. Montana and big feet like Cat. Can you catch a squirrel with your bare hands like your mother? I saw her do that once." "I don't know, let's see." With that Micki shot off like a rocket for the old tree. Cat had started exterminating the squirrels a few months ago because they kept raiding the bird feeders. She never finished the job and only the strongest and most alert rodents were left. As soon as they saw Micki coming they froze in place and started that peculiar squawk of alarm squirrels are famous for. Not that it did them any good. Micki scrambled up the tree as easily as if it were a playground ladder, her claws ripping off little pieces of bark along the way. She zipped around the branches so quickly that to Betsy she seemed like a home video stuck in fast forward. One desperate squirrel decided it was time to abandon ship and leapt for the apartment building. Micki leapt right after him and snatched him out of the air with one hand, while using the other to grab a window ledge and then drop softly to the ground. She proudly sauntered over to Betsy holding the squirming, squawking, squirrel behind the head. Her pristine sailor girl outfit of white blouse, blue kerchief and blue shorts - one of the last outfits bought for her by Mr. and Mrs. Montana that still fit - was ruined. "Careful, Betsy, this cwitter has big teeth and he will bite," Micki said, as she brought the squirrel close for examination. Caesar, who up to this point had shown little interest in the proceedings, was trying to climb Micki's leg to get at her captive. "Your mother bites off their heads. Aren't you gonna?" For a moment Micki had considered doing just that. Biting off the head and crunching the skull, sucking the blood out of the stub of it's neck, feasting on its delicious internal organs. Yum, yum! Then Micki realized that, whatever else she might be, she was still human. She quickly tossed the rodent back to its tree, much to Betsy and Caesar's disappointment. "Sowwy, Betsy, I ain't hungwy wite now. I gotta go change, so I'll see you later." "What? You're going to leave your lovely neighbor before introducing us? How very rude." It was Diego and Lue. Micki had forgotten they had promised to visit her today and here they were. "Oh, Betsy, this is Diego and Lue. Diego and Lue, this is Betsy." "Charmed I'm sure," Diego said, as he kissed Betsy's hand. "Always a pleasure to meet a beautiful girl." "Hey, easy on the charm, Womeo, the girl is only 10 years old." "And so is my cousin, Lue. But he will soon be 11. Kiss the girl's hand, Lue." "Charmed, I'm sure," Betsy said, with a silly giggle. She was not at all used to having the attention of two such attractive boys at the same time. "Uh, hello," said Lue, who wasn't used to talking to anyone outside of his family. He gave Betsy a handshake instead of a kiss. The words spewed out of Betsy like water out of a broken hydrant. "Do you two know the Cat? I do. She's a superhero. Are you boys superheros too? Are you members of the Protectors? That's gotta be exciting." "Oh yes, of course, I know the Cat and the Mouse and the Medium and plenty of other superheros," Diego boasted. "My cousin Lue and me, we are going to be superheroes ourselves someday, right Lue?" "Say what?" "Oh, I knew you were somebody special," said Betsy, as she latched on to Lue's arm with a grip that momentarily stopped the bloodflow. "I can tell you aren't like the other boys I know. All they want to do is act gross and make fun of you." "Betsy, I promise you, you aren't going to find any other boys like me." "Hey, I think Auntie Toni made some iced tea this morning, lets go up and have a drink," said Micki. The children dashed up the stairs to the top floor apartment. Cat was away making several runs today and Tony Bass had volunteered to babysit for her. Not that Micki needed to be watched; Tony was mainly there for appearance sake since only a handful of people knew that Micki wasn't really a child. Tony had just settled down to watch his favorite soap opera when the kids roared into the room. "Ah for the love a . . . youse kids had better keep quiet," Tony said from the livingroom sofa. "If I can't hear my soap I'm goin' ta bust some heads." "Sowwy, Tony," Micki said. "We'll twy to keep it down. Oh, this is Betsy. She and her mother live on the second floor." "Yeah, yeah, glad to meet ya, toots," Tony said, as he looked at them for the first time. "Ah, Jesus, Micki! What the hell did you do to your good clothes? Damn, Cat will kill me for dis. What'd ya do, climb a tree?" "Oh don't wowwy, 'Mom' won't be mad. These clothes were getting too small for me anyhow." Diego and Lue paid no attention to this conversation and were in the kitchen pouring drinks for everybody, but Betsy was having a hard time figuring out ''Auntie Toni.'' Here she saw a woman casually dressed in a colorful T-shirt, Lee Jeans for Women and leather sandals, with her hair wrapped in a crimson bandana, her face expertly made up and her fingernails and toenails impeccably done. Yet she had shoulders and forearms like a longshoreman and a voice to match. "Is she really your Aunt?" she whispered to Micki. "She's kind of . . . strange, don't you think?" "It's a stwange family, Betsy. Evewybody's got a skeleton in their closet, don't you think?" "Huh?" "Ah, lovely Betsy, my cousin has your drink for you if you will join him in the kitchen," Diego said, as he handed a tumbler of iced tea to Micki. "I want to ask this smart little girl something private." Betsy went to the kitchen with a confused look on her face, while Diego whispered to Micki while keeping an eye on Tony Bass. "Is it my imagination or has there been another change to our Mr. Bass," he asked. "Something about him seems different to me." "I didn't notice anything diffewent, but I see him just about evewy day so it might have escaped me." Micki and Diego slowly crept closer to Tony to get a better look, while Lue entertained Betsy in the kitchen. "So, you like Bratz and Jesse McCartney too?" Betsy said, between sips of iced tea. "That's so weird, most of the boys at my school hate things like that. What school do you go to?" "I'm home-schooled by my Grandfather. He's about the smartest person I know and he's magic, too." "Magic? Aw, go on. There's no such thing as magic. At least, that's what my mother says: 'The only way I'll ever find another man to marry me is magic and there ain't no such thing' she says." "Well, my Pop Pop knows magic, in fact, he's about the greatest magician alive." "How come I never heard of him, like David Blain?" "He's not that kind of a magician. He's like, a REAL magician, not some stage phony. He's showing me how to do magic, too." "Oh, show me some magic tricks!" "OK, get me a couple of spoons and make sure they're made of metal." Meanwhile, Diego and Micki had approached to within only a few feet of Tony Bass, still trying to figure out what was different. "Aw Rosanna, Cabot is alive! Dat bastard James didn't blow him up in the cabin," Tony said out loud to the TV, when he caught sight of the spying children. "What? Why are youse two staring at me like a couple'a owls?" "There's something different about you, Tony, but we can't quite put a finger on it," Diego said. "Oh yeah? Maybe youse is missing my dimple. Funny thing, I wake up this morning and it's gone. I used to look like Cary Grant and now I look like Lee Grant. I tell youse." Indeed, Tony's chin no longer had its distinctive, manly cleft. It was without indentation now, somehow smaller and more pointed, more . . . feminine. Micki grabbed Diego's arm and pulled him into the bedroom. "Hey, Diego," Micki said. "You've been wanting me to teach you something about detective wok for a long time, well, I think your fust case just might be in the other room." "What do you mean?" "Tony Bass, dummy! Don't you wonder why he's acting the way he is?" "You mean the dresses and the makeup and the manicures? I thought that was all because he screwed Cat six times and she bit off his weenie." "That's twu, but can't you see there's more to it than that? Tony didn't have any history of gender dysphoria before a month or two ago. And I wefuse to believe he's going through some kind of real life test now. You known, sometimes he'll go out wearing a dress and he won't even wealize it. And he's done nothing to try to disguise his voice, either." "If Tony boy isn't nuts, what do you think is the problem?" "I wememba something his cousin, Nicky, told me a while back. He said he suspected Tony's court-appointed counselor was secwetly hypnotizing him. I've been too pweoccupied to follow up on that idea, but I think now would be a good time to see what we can find out." "No problem, Micki, we'll just go see this counselor and I'll use the persuasive voice on him and make him confess." "Oh no, Diego, that's too easy. If you want to do weal detective wok, you got to do the leg wok and wesearch and interviews, so no shortcuts, OK?" "Whatever you say, teach. When do we start?" "Wight now. We need to interview Tony to find out just how much he knows about what's going on. You want to do it or should I?" "Hey, you know the guy a lot better than I do. You interview, I'll take notes." "Fine, now get out. Even a four-year-old wants some pwivicy when she's changing her clothes." Diego left the room and waited 10 minutes for Micki to change to a cute T-shirt with fluffy kittens on it and a little pleated skirt. The only incongruous note was her tennis shoes which had to be much larger than normal to avoid being shredded by her ever sharper toe claws. She also checked her height on the growth chart the Montanas bought her two weeks ago and found that she now stretched the tape to 3'6". Feeling they were totally prepared, Micki and Diego went to the livingroom and plopped themselves on the couch next to Tony Bass. "What's up, kid," Tony said to Micki. "You want somethin'?" "Oh no, Tony, we were just going to sit here quietly and watch television with you. My, you weally like the soap operas, don't you?" "Yeah, damn things are addictive, I tell ya. I hardly have time for cooking an' sewing an' cleaning up for lookin' at the damn things." "How long have you liked the soaps, Tony?" "Ah, well, actually, I've only been watchin' dim for a couple'a months. Funny, I used to get on my wife's ass for watchin' soaps all the time. I called her an empty-headed, soap opera-lovin' whore. An' now I'm addicted to 'em myself. Ain't that somethin'?" "Yes it is, Tony. Tell me, did you discover your love for soaps about the same time you started wearing dwesses and using makeup evewy day?" "Yeah, I guess so. But that stuff is for my work at Nicky's place. I got ta prance around in skirts and lipstick there to show the fruits how pretty they can look. Man, with some'a them dudes it's like tryin' to dress up a grizzly bear. Hey, it ain't much but it's a job and I need a job." "Sure, Tony, it's a job. But is it pawt of your job to wear that stuff even when you aren't woking? Look at you, Tony, youa wearing women's slacks and shoes and lipstick and scarf. You didn't have to do that today, but you did it anyhow. Why?" Tony Bass began to shift uncomfortably in his seat. "I, I might have ta go to the boutique later, so I wanted to be ready just in case. Besides, Dr. Hillenbrand said I should stay made up like this all the time because it was good practice for work." "Dr. Hillenbrand, is that your state-appointed counselor?" Diego interjected. "Yeah, that's her. Doctor Missy Hillenbrand. She's really great. She taught me how to do my own fingernails and toenails." Micki and Diego noted that at the very mention of his counselor's name, Tony went glassy-eyed, like he was in a mild trance. "She's yowa second counselor, isn't she, Tony," Micki said. "Didn't you beat up the first one?" "Yeah and I'm really sorry about that. I'm lucky I didn't do time for dat despicable but typical act'a male aggression. But Jayne, that was my first counselor, Jayne Masefield, she didn't press charges. In fact, she's friends wit' Dr. Hillenbrand an' she recommended she take over my case." "Hmm, I think Diego and I would like to see this Missy Hillenbrand, Tony. When's your next counseling session?" "Ah, that's next Monday, but I don't think they'll let a couple'a kids sit in." "Oh, don't you worry about that, Tony," Diego said. "I don't think that will be a big problem." "OK you two, suit yourselves, now be quiet, the next show is comin' on." Being still fairly early in the day, the kids decided to head off to the Village and interview Nicky Greao in person to find out exactly what he knew about Tony's situation. They pulled Lue away from the enraptured Betsy and caught the subway downtown. "Nice going, my man," Diego chided. "You been a boy for less than two weeks and you've already got a girlfriend. You want any pointers on how to handle her on a date, you let me know." "Shut up, ya creep," Lue angrily replied. "I am not looking for a girlfriend, or a boyfriend for that matter, right now. I got a whole lot of gender issues to clear up before I'm ready to date anybody. Betsy and I are just friends and friends only." "Yeah, can it, Diego," Micki chipped in. "Next thing you know you'll be twying to get me to go out with some boy and you know that ain't happening." "All right, all right, you two immature twerps. Damn, don't come to me for romantic advice when you're older, your asses are on their own. Let's just go where we're goin' and help Tony Bass." "Good," Lue and Micki answered in unison. "So tell me, Micki, why is helping Tony so important to you? I understand he was a pretty nasty dude until Cat fixed his hash." "I don't care what Tony used to be like," Micki said. "He's helped me cope with what's happened to me. Him and Nicky and you and Gaby and Lue and so many others. Without you guys, I might have gone nuts myself. Believe me, I would do anything to help any of you." The Glamor Boutique branch was busy today, but Nicky took time out to meet with Micki and Diego in his cramped office. Lue killed time examining some of the items on sale to help men fulfill their fantasies of becoming women. "I'll never understand this," he thought to himself, as he held up a couple of silicone breast forms. "If I was born with just one sex, I think I'd like to keep it that way." Micki and Diego sipped from the cans of soft drink Nicky provided from the small office refrigerator, as he asked them what they'd like to know. "Befowa we went off to the Philippines you told me that you suspected Tony's counselor was hypnotizing him," Micki said. "Why is that?" "Well, as you know, it was right before that trip that Tony was put on probation and had to move into my house and go to work at this store. He was having a hard time getting to sleep and was already taking a ton of meds, so his counselor gave him seven different CDs to listen to, one for every night of the week. Told him they'd help him sleep and they seemed to work. So I borrowed a disc one night because I was having a hard time going to sleep myself. It started with a few minutes of neutral music, then I heard a woman's voice say 'black lace.' Then some more music, then the same woman, saying things like 'Dresses are so much nicer than trousers, we know you like to wear dresses Tony, they're so pretty and breezy and innocent, no one will try to punish you in a dress, Tony, you want to wear one every day,' and on and on like that. Needless to say, instead of listening to that CD all night, I just took a sleeping pill." "And did you tell Tony about what you had found out?" "Ah, no, not really," Nicky said, as he cleared his throat. "Why not?" "Look, you know how Tony used to be," Nicky almost pleaded. "He was an animal, a terrible person. He was always calling me fairy and queer. I swear, if he wasn't my cousin, I would never have had anything to do with him. And now, thanks to what Cat did, he's a totally different person. He's sweet and considerate and mild- mannered and thoughtful . . . so what if he wears a dress now? Don't you think it's all for the best?" "I see, so you hate Cat for what happened to me, but you think what happened to Tony is good. Is that about it?" "Wait, I didn't say that." "Come on, Diego, let's get out of here," Micki said, with a sad look on her little face. "I've found out a little more than I wanted to know." So Micki and Diego left Nicky, gathered up Lue and headed for the Perfesser's building in Spanish Harlem to do some more research. Nicky stayed at his desk, sobbing quietly and holding his head. "What have I done?" he asked himself over and over again. "Oh God, what have I done?" It was about 3:00 PM by the time the kids got to the Perfesser's place, so they still had a few hours to make phone calls and try to find out more about Missy Hillenbrand and Jayne Masefield. They called the various offices of the New Jersey State corrections system and eventually, after swimming through an ocean of red tape, found a talkative secretary named Laverne who was willing to give Diego some information off the record. "Well, according to what I heard, Jayne and Missy are REAL good friends, if ya know what I mean, Honey. They both used to work in Atlanta and they both came to work here not too long apart. Way I hear it, Missy had to leave Georga in a bit of a hurry, but I don't know why. You know how it is with rumors and all." While Micki and Diego worked the phones, Lue had excused himself and gone to his bedroom to take a nap. "Heh, ever since Lupe became Lue, all he does is eat and sleep," the Perfesser said, as he offered Micki and Diego some refreshments. "As far as I know there is nothing physically wrong with him. The doctors gave him a battery of tests last week and he passed them all with flying colors. He's as healthy as a plow-horse, but I think his body isn't finished changing yet." Cat had finally completed her rounds and when she found out from Tony that Micki was at the Perfesser's and Diego wouldn't be available to ride with her on the subway, she drove there to take her "daughter" home. Micki was outside the building waiting on the steps with Diego and making plans to return tomorrow to do more research work, when Cat arrived. "Busy day, Sweety?" Cat asked as she kissed the tiny transformed detective on the cheek. "Yeah, same for you, Cat?" "So true. I had to go to the HQ and put in a pitch for the yard sale, then I visited the hairdresser, then . . . what's that?" Cat was suddenly very still. The muscles in her face twitched and she sniffed the air expectantly. Micki did the same, and reacted as if she had detected a very disagreeable odor very close by. "What is it you two?" a perplexed Diego asked. "What the hell are you smelling?" "Evil," Micki said. "Very strong and very close." In the shadow of a building more than a block away a massive figure studied the three friends intently. It noted that the two lion women had caught its scent and it was not surprised. In fact, a rumbling chuckle escaped its black lips and for a fraction of a second the waning sun glinted off its huge teeth. Then it was gone, as if it had never been there. "I haven't felt like that since we were in Stankovic's basement," Micki said, feeling a chill on this late summer day. "That can't be good." "Whatever it was, it's gone now," Cat said. "Come on, Precious, let's go home." *** ABC News With Peter Jennings: "And in other news - who, or what, is killing the California harbor seals? For many years now large colonies of harbor seals have taken over some of the public docks in the San Diego area. As many as a hundred of the pinnipeds congregate together, fouling the air with their waste and constant barking. But this dock has emptied overnight, the only things left are these partial carcasses of two or three seals. What happened to the seals is a matter of some controversy. (Charles Winston, local boat owner) "It was a killer whale, I tell ya.' It was about 3:00 AM and there was a thick fog, but it was a killer whale, all right. Went up on the dock and picked off them seals like a farmer picking oranges." Killer whales, or Orcas, do pray on seals and have been known to beach themselves in pursuit of them, but marine authorities are skeptical that that's what happened in this case. (Dr. Jim Van Cleve, marine biologist, University of San Diego) "Oh it's patently absurd, to suggest that a killer whale went up on the docks after seals. That behavior is just not seen in this part of the world. I'd sooner believe a great white shark did it, but they aren't going to beach themselves either." Authorities are promising a full investigation into the incident and if it's proven that humans were involved, there could be severe penalties. All seals and sea lions in California, even non-endangered species like the harbor seal, are protected from hunting. (Charles Winston) "I don't care what the cops say, I'd give that old whale a medal if I could. I say good riddance to those smelly old seals." *** Micki talked Cat into dropping her off at the Perfesser's building early the next day. She was really enthusiastic about Tony's case and wanted to get back to it right away. "I didn't realize how much I'd missed detective work," she thought, as she climbed the front steps of the tenement. "Maybe, whenever I finish growing into this mutant body, I can do it full-time again. Or, failing that, maybe I can get another detective to hire me as his faithful, drop-dead gorgeous secretary. Haw!" Before she could even open the door to the foyer, however, Micki heard a high-pitched wailing from inside. Curious, Micki peeked in to see Alabreca running around in circles in her nightgown, holding her head and bucking her eyes as if she'd seen a ghost. "What's going on, Aunt Alabweca?" Micki asked, as she grabbed the bottom of the panicky woman's nightgown to get her attention. "Why are you making that gosh awful noise?" "Lup, Lup, Lupe," was all the older woman could say, as she pointed up the stairs. Fearing that something bad had happened to her friend, Micki loped up the stairs as fast as her little legs could carry her, which was pretty fast, come to think of it. She soon slid into a small crowd of the Perfesser's relatives, who seemed to be gathered around someone. The crowd shifted slightly and Micki could see the object of their interest. Standing right there was Lupe, the female Lupe, wearing a T-shirt and boys boxer shorts. But this wasn't the stunted, repressed Lupe of old. This Lupe stood just as straight and tall as the male version had, and she filled out the T-shirt with jutting young breasts that were soon going to need more than a training bra. Her boxers were filled out with some very womanly hips and her formerly narrow, 'white girl' behind was now taking on Jennifer Lopez-like fullness. "Lupe, you're back!" Micki exclaimed. "How'd this happen?" "I don't know," Lupe said. "I'd been asleep since we got back here yesterday afternoon. I didn't even wake up for dinner. I was a boy when I fell asleep, but all that time I dreamed I was a girl again, doing all kinds of girl things. And when I woke up, I WAS a girl. Aunt Alabreca freaked out when she saw me." "Tell me about it," said Diego, still chewing on a piece of breakfast bacon. "That woman could raise the dead!" "Speak more respectfully of your mother, Grandson," the Perfesser muttered. "What happened to Lupe would startle anyone." "Just what did happen to Lupe, Perfesser?" Micki asked. "Well, apparently, and obviously, Lupe has developed the ability to spontaneously change genders. I have only heard of a very few such cases before, particularly among ancient Native American tribes, and they were all told by word of mouth. There are no documented cases of this, to my knowledge. The question is, what triggered the power this time?" "Was it because Lue dweamed about being a girl again?" "Perhaps. Lupe, I want you to concentrate just the way I've taught you to. Look at yourself in the hall mirror and imagine that you are Lue again." Lupe obediently looked in the mirror and started a chant that the Perfesser had learned long ago in Nepal. For five minutes Lupe stared into the mirror and droned on with the chant. Then she suddenly stopped and closed her eyes. She bent her head and to anyone present she seemed to go slightly out of focus, as she would appear to someone who wore glasses, quickly removed them and then put them back on. When she came back into focus, Lue was standing in her place. "Awesome," Micki said. "I sure wish I could do that." "Yeah, that would be a great power at a ball game," Diego cracked. "Whatever restroom is full, you could always go to the other one." "Very funny, clown," Lue said, as he playfully swung a fist at his cousin. "This is going to take some getting used to." Micki and Diego were caught up in the general hubbub for another 30 minutes, then they got back to their detective footwork. They spent the morning calling Atlanta, GA numbers for anyone who knew about Missy Hillenbrand and Jayne Masefield. Micki finally found someone in the Atlanta offices of the American Psychiatric Association who had heard of Masefield and gave the phone to Diego. "Hello, my name is Diego Gomes and I am with the Montana Detective Agency in New York City. We are working on a case in New Jersey involving Jayne Masefield and were hoping you could help us with some information." "Well, I am Dr. Philip Garland, young man, and I am not in the habit of answering questions from detectives over the phone. Are you really a detective? You sound like a kid, and the person who called me sounded like a little girl." "I assure you I am working for a legitimate detective agency," Diego said, with all the persuasion he could muster. "I'm not going to tell you this is a matter of life and death, but it will help us an awful lot if you could just answer a few questions." There was a moment of hesitation, then Dr. Garland spoke. "Ah, er, well, I guess answering a few questions couldn't hurt. Who was it you were looking for again?" "Jayne Masefield." "Oh yes, of course, Jayne. She left the area some time ago, not too long after a friend of hers left under, shall we say, not ideal conditions." "Was that friend's name Missy Hillenbrand?" "No, I've never heard that name before. The person I'm referring to was named Lana Tern. She had a private practice in those days and a busy one. She specialized in spousal abuse cases and seemed to have an admirable success rate. I imagine she would have continued like that except for a tragedy involving a former client of hers who had moved to Ohio. "The case involved a Mr. and Mrs. Perkins. Mr. Perkins, I think his name was William, was violently abusive, but Mrs. Perkins, Judy, was a devout Catholic and refused to divorce him. So she talked William into seeing Dr. Tern and within six months the abuse had stopped and the Perkins had moved to Ohio to start a new life. As we found out later, most of Dr. Tern's patients wound up leaving town soon after she was finished with them. "Well, apparently, everything went fine for almost two years, then, according to the Ohio authorities, Mr. Perkins murdered his wife with a butcher knife. But they didn't realize the murderer was Mr. Perkins until they locked him up in the women's wing of the Cincinnati jail. During a strip search they discovered the person who had identified herself as 'Wilhelmina' had a stunted little penis. For two years, the Perkins had been living as openly lesbian lovers, not man and wife. They sent a large team of professionals to examine 'Wilhelmina' and pieced together what had happened. Dr. Tern's treatment had consisted of feminizing William Perkins into a submissive 'she-male' doormat for Mrs. Perkins. She did it with hypnosis, special hormones, subliminal message tapes and probably some other means we don't know about. We must surmise that William eventually broke through the programing just enough to take revenge on his wife. However, he still believes he is female and refuses to wear anything but a dress. He is currently in an institution for the criminally insane and the prospects of him ever getting out are dim. "Of course, the Ohio authorities notified us of what had happened and we sit up a peer review of Dr. Tern. She arrogantly denied all charges and challenged us to prove anything. She said all her patients desired what she did to them, whether they realized it at first, or not. All we had to go by was circumstantial evidence and the testimony of a criminally insane murderer. We sought a court order to have Dr. Tern's records impounded, but by the time we could act she had left the city and abandoned her practice. What records she couldn't take with her were quite methodically destroyed. Jayne Masefield left town soon after that. We have started the slow process of hunting down and interviewing all of the clients we know anything about and I think we are finding an interesting pattern, but I'm sorry to say it might take years to come up with enough for a criminal case." "Well, I think this Dr. Tern may be up to her old tricks again in New Jersey," Diego said. "That is where Masefield went, I am told. It could be Lana Tern feels compelled to do what she does, in spite of the risk." "Could you fax me a photograph of this Dr. Tern? We may be meeting with her this coming Monday." "I can do that, young man. And why don't you fax me some kind of ID, so I don't feel so much like I'm being bamboozled here, OK?" "I can do that, sir," Diego said. "Thank you very much for your help." The ole Perfesser's fax machine hummed into action and soon spit out a color photo of Dr. Lana Tern. She was what in the old days would have been called a handsome woman . . . forty-ish, impeccably dressed, with long blonde hair done up conservatively and piercing green eyes that held a cynical look. Micki gave Diego a business card and her old male driver's license to fax to Dr. Garland. "I hope that satisfies him," she said. "Persuasive voice or not, that Dr. Garland doesn't sound like someone to be cwossed." Just then the Perfesser walked in smiling brightly while holding his hands behind his back. "So, are the junior detectives all done for now?" he asked. "Pretty much, Perfesser," Micki said. "And it looks like we're making weal progress." "That's nice, very nice. So, who do I send the bill for the long distance calls?" *** WEEK FIVE Sunday saw a very unusual event take place - a yard sale in the Protector HQ's spacious backyard. Somehow, Cat had persuaded Nightman and Nancy Miller to approve the idea in order to make some money for charity and, more importantly, win back some of the neighbors who were still pissed off about the Destroyer's attack. Of course, Cat was primarily interested in getting rid of all the clothes and toys that Micki either no longer fit or no longer wanted. She would have liked to have kept some of the money from the sale for her own use, but that was a sacrifice she was willing to make to clear the closets. Other members of the team also made contributions: Girl Goliath gave up some memoirs from her native China; Mr. Fix-it, the remains of a few failed experiments; The Arrow gave some weapons he no longer needed; and Nightman put in some items that used to belong to Nightboy. Even Nancy Miller and some of the security and office personnel chipped in by emptying their attics and basements. "Hey, here's a cute little dress Micki ought to be able to wear and it's only five bucks," said Cat, as she rummaged through a pile of clothes with Gaby. "Oh, check out these shoes that light up every time you take a step. Do kids still wear these nowadays?" "Yeah, I think so," the Medium replied, as she considered a black T-shirt with a white Chinese character that spelled 'hope' which had belonged to Rae Ming. "I like this T and junk but, for real, it'd look like a tent on me." "Not on me, Hon," Cat said, as she snatched up the shirt and stuffed it into her bag, ignoring Gaby's protests. "Sorry, Sweetie, but you can't hog all the black clothes." All the active members were here today to help with the sale and, for an extra fee that was also supposed to go to charity, they signed items and autograph books and posed for photographs. The Arrow was given a comfortable chair and put in charge of the cash box, much to his delight, because that put him right next to the barbecue grill which was today under the care of a guest - Tony Bass by name. Tony had no intention of wearing a hood today so he styled some expensive dark glasses that were left over from his mob days and a big straw sun hat. A Girl Power T-shirt and red Capri pants completed his outfit, along with some rainbow-colored rubber flip-flops. Micki, Diego and Lupe were also on hand to help with the lemonade stand. A complete dinner with drink was $10 for adults and $6 for kids. Diego, being putatively the oldest and only male of the children, thought it was his right to boss the others around and to take long walks to survey the action rather than remain at the stand. Micki and Lupe just rolled their eyes and let him have his fantasy of male privilege. "Ah, we'll get more done without him," said Lupe. "Persuasive voice or not, I'll bet we probably sell more lemonade without him, too." Micki and Lupe supplemented their lemonade sales pitch with entertainment. Using the tricks her Granddad had taught her, Lupe made small metal objects float and dance in the air, delighting both children and their parents, while Micki performed inhuman feats of balance and flexibility on the manicured lawn, not just doing handstands, but two-finger and even one-finger stands. At one point she did backflips on Rae Ming's head as the amused female giant walked around the lawn, to the applause of all in attendance. Diego quickly settled upon Robichaux's meager stand as the most interesting for his tastes. It contained a small but deadly assortment of daggers, cross bows, a tomahawk, a battle axe, a kukhri, a tanto and much more. Among the weapons for sale was an old Colt .45 revolver that the budding detective/superhero imagined carrying at his side to help him take on the bad guys. "Hey, how much for this rusty old gun, Arrow," he asked, trying to be as casual as possible. "It looks ancient. Does it even work?" "Oh it works all right, little hombre," Robichaux said. "Of course, ah had to remove the firin' pin to sell it legally, but it's a real collector's item. Ah couldn't let it go for less than $500, and that's a steal." "$500? Why that's highway robbery! I wouldn't give you more than $100 for this old piece of junk." "Listen here, ya young punk. Ah was just fooling with you anyhow. Firin' pin or not, ah ain't stupid enough to sell a gun to no minor, not in God damn New York City, for sure." "What makes you think I'm a minor?" Diego said. "You know, it's OK for you to sell me this gun and for $100, too." "Well, ah, that is . . ." Robichaux stuttered, as he started to fall under Diego's spell. Then Nightman popped up and stepped between the Arrow and Diego. "You weren't about to buy a firearm, were you, young man? I hope you know that would be highly illegal and you could get the Arrow and all the rest of us in some serious trouble." "Oh, no, no sir, I wouldn't want to do that," said Diego, suddenly not nearly as sure of himself as usual. "I just wanted it for practice, for when I become a superhero later." "Real superheros don't need guns, son. I've been one for almost twenty years and I've never used a gun and as long as I am leading The Protectors, no one on this team will use one either." "But, Nightman, dude, don't you think that's kind of an old fashioned attitude? I mean, all the coolest superheros nowdays have big guns and they aren't afraid to use them." "You're referring to vigilantes, like the Eliminator, aren't you? Yes, a lot of people think he's cool, but, really, is he any better than the scum he kills? It takes more than a big gun to make you a superhero. You have to have the ideals, and the moral fiber to stick to those ideals, no matter what. A superhero has to be a cut above the common, the ordinary. Otherwise, you're just an ass in a costume getting in the way of the police." "Oh, wow. I guess I never thought of it that way before, Nightman." "Call me Ted. What's your name, son?" "It's Diego, Ted, Diego Gomes. And I really meant that about being a superhero one day. Some day I'd like to join the Protectors, since I've got some special abilities." "I take it you're related to the Medium's guru." "Why, yes, he's my Grandfather. Hey, wait a minute, how'd you know that?" "And I'm assuming your superpower is some form of hypnotism, principally involving your voice, sort of like The Shadow or Mandrake the Magician in the comics." Diego started to squirm like he needed to use the john. "Holy crud," he thought. "How'd he figure all that out? I'm outta here." Shouting an excuse about needing more sugar for the lemonade stand, Diego bolted for the kitchen and away from Nightman. As he left, the Medium came up to talk to her leader. "How's it going, boss man?" she said. "Looks like we're gonna sell a lot of this stuff and junk. And the dinners are really moving fast. That Toni can really barbecue, fer sure." "Yes, that's strange," Nightman said. "In my experience, men are usually better barbecuers than women. And who's that pretty little girl over there selling lemonade?" "Oh, her, why that's Micki. You know, Cat's daughter?" "The last time I saw Micki she was just being weaned. That girl looks about five years-old. Does The Cat have two daughters? You mean she's Micki's sister, don't you?" "Oh, look at the time. I promised to give an interview at three and it's almost that on the dot. See you later and some junk, Nightman." As Gaby sped off, Nightman could only rub his chin thoughtfully. "I've got to have a long talk with that girl one day soon." Cat was busily signing autographs when she spotted a familiar face. "Harold Crupper!" she exclaimed, as she slapped the tall, skinny radio personality on his back, almost knocking him into a crowd of sightseers. "Why ah haven't heard a word from you lately, Honey. Ah need to know if ah'm comin' on yoah show so I can start oiling up mah breasts for display." "Cat, haven't you heard?" he said. "My show's been canceled by the network, something about decency and the FCC or something. I don't know when I'll be back on the air." "Oh, that's a shame, sweet-lips. All you evah did was exercise yoah God given First Amendment right to promote smut and look what happened. It ain't fair ah tell you!" "You got that right. But, don't worry, Lotta, I'll be back one of these days and you'll be the first to know. Maybe I'll just get on satalite radio and be totally done with censorship." "Ah'm sure, Baby. Now, buy a photograph to help charity, ya cheap Yankee!" Crupper paid $20 and got an autographed Polaroid of himself standing next to Cat with his head buried in her canyon-like cleavage in as suggestive a pose as she could manage in a family crowd. "Hey, I want a picture like that with the cat-woman." The speaker was a tall, stocky young man, with red hair and freckles. He smiled at Cat like he knew something she didn't, but as soon as she saw him she gritted her teeth and let out a low growl. "What the hell are you doing here?" she asked, eyes fixed on the tall stranger. "Ah thought you nevah went anywhere without your sis." "Oh, but she's here, right next to you, in fact." Cat looked to her left and sure enough, there was a tall, redheaded young woman holding a bag with several purchases. "Twins are close like that, Ms. Cat," she said. "We just thought we'd come out and pick up a bargain or two. I got some very nice things that belonged to your daughter. You know, I hope to have a little girl of my own some day. Maybe she'll be a cutie like your daughter." "Well, don't you two have a lot of nerve," Cat said, as she tensed for action. "Ah didn't think even the Destroyers would intrude on a peaceful gathering like this." "Hey, we aren't in costume, we're not here as Destroyers and we're not looking for trouble. The Commander would throw a fit if he knew we were here. This is strictly pleasure, you dig?" "And what's to stop me from taking you both by yoah scrawny necks and tossing you in jail right now?" "Merely the fact that we're both wearing high explosives in our belts and we have another explosive charge in our car that will all go off if you try to apprehend us. And please don't make the mistake of thinking we're bluffing." Cat considered for a moment, then relaxed. "OK you two, you've had your fun. Now get out of here before the Arrow figures out who you are. That hot-head would probably try to hit you with one of his crutches for what you did to him." "You threw Weapons Master off a building. I figure that makes us square." "Not in the Arrow's eyes and not in mine either. Get going." As the two haughtily walked to their parked car, the Medium arrived on the scene. "Who were those two?" she asked. "It looked like you and they were gettin' kind of intense and junk." "That was EXO1 and EXO2." "What the fuck! Those two? Here? Out of costume? Why didn't you, like, grab 'em?" "Because they threatened to blow up the place if I did and I've already gone through that in the Philippines. Besides, I really don't think they were looking for trouble today. You know, I never realized it before, but those two are just a couple of kids, probably younger than you, Gaby." "I should have known they'd be here. Damn, I haven't had a decent vision in a long time, Katherine, it's almost like something or someone is blocking my power." Meanwhile, Tony Bass was finally running low on barbecue meat and had a chance to take a break from the hungry crowd. He backed away from the portable grill and lit up a Marlboro, as Diego voluntarily took care of the few remaining customers. Tony stretched his arms and looked to his right - only to see Robichaux staring at him intently. Diego made an exaggerated kissing noise for the benefit of Lupe and Micki and all three of the kids made a poor effort to suppress their giggles. "Ah for the love a . . ." Tony thought. "Dat idiot has been givin' me da moon-eyes all day. I think it's time ta tell him where he stands once and for all." Tony stubbed out his butt and walked the short distance to the Arrow's stand. Without thinking about it he swayed quite attractively as he walked, his well-developed breasts bouncing ever so enticingly, his hips looking like they were poured into those tight pants. Tony honestly had no clue what effect his changing body was having on the love-starved Arrow or the other men in the crowd, for that matter. "Hey, Arrow, what's up," he said, trying to speak as gruffly as possible in his greeting. "Hi, Toni," the Arrow said, with a big, Southern-fried grin. "And that's Richard, or Dick, if you'd prefer." "No, Richard, I would not prefer Dick. It would, err, remind me too much'a Tricky Dick, know what I mean?" "Not really. How's yoah mother doin'?" "Huh, my mother? What about my mother?" "Cat told me you were still livin' with yoah mother, that you just couldn't bear the idea of leaving that fine lady. Ah must say, such loyalty to one's parents is a rare thang in this cynical world." "Cat tol' ya dat, huh? Figgers. Cat's got a big mouth." "Ah, don't blame the cat-woman, Honey. Ah know you all has to be extra careful about lettin' yoah identity be known. Ah just wanted to know anythang ah could about you." "Why, Richard? Why do ya want to know about me? Why do ya keep staring at me? I seen ya over dare, gawking in my direction all day. What is da attraction?" Tony had his hands on his hips as he asked these questions, but before he could move away Robichaux grabbed one of those hands in a firm, but gentle grip. With his other hand he removed his ever- present wraparound sunglasses and looked at Tony intently with his clear brown eyes. "Toni, ah've always been a loner and a man of action. Ah've always been on the go. Ah left home when ah was 14 and ah nevah went back. Strange as it might sound, ah've nevah had a girlfriend. Ah've always been uncomfortable around women, nevah really knew what to say to them. And yet, from the fust time ah laid eyes on you, Toni, ah could tell you were different. Ah don't know why, but ah just know that you and ah . . . we can be real good for each other, if we allow ourselves to be. Ah know ah'm a ignorant redneck, that ah lack the social graces. But, Baby, if you give me a chance, ah thank ah can prove to you how right we are for each other. Dat's all ah want, Honey, just a chance to show how special you are to me. What do you say?" Tony was speechless. "Are you doin' anythang Wednesday night?" "No." "Well how about ah treat you to a movie and some dinner this comin' Wednesday? Say, about 6 o'clock?" "OK." "Wonderful. Well, ah better git dis money to da headquarters safe. Ah look forward to our fust date, sweet thang." With that Robichaux kissed Tony's hand, gathered up the cash box and slowly made his way into the HQ building. Tony still stood in place with his mouth open. "What just happened here?" Diego asked. "I just agreed to a date wit' da Arrow." "How the heck did THAT happen?" Micki asked. "I don't know. He was just so sweet. I didn't want ta disappoint da bum." "So, Tony's the first of the recently-transformed to get a date with the opposite sex," Lupe said. "I wonder who'll be next?" *** Lupe and Diego got an early start Monday to join Micki on the subway ride from the Columbia University area to Penn Station. From there the three friends walked to the PATH train and rode to New Jersey. Once in the Garden State they took the bus to the modest two- story home Nicky Graeo and his mother shared with Tony Bass. The kids filled all the travel time with silly banter and teasing speculations, primarily from Diego, about Tony's impending date. "Do you think he'll go through with it, Micki?" he asked. "He's always said he didn't have any interest in dating a man, so I don't know. Maybe it's too late for us to save him from this Dr. Tern, do you think?" "Who knows why Tony does what he does," Micki said. "The man has been through some big changes all in rapid order and he's got to be really confused about things. Maybe he really likes the Arrow . . . Jesus, what am I saying? Nobody likes the Arrow." "Ah, so, if Tony can change his mind, perhaps you can too, eh, Ms. Micki? Perhaps when you get a little older and those female hormones start really kicking in you too will find a man to your liking." Micki shot a murderous glance at the grinning Diego. She knew he liked to kid, but sometimes the would-be detective went too far and this was one such time. But before Micki could frame a proper come- back, Lupe had something to say. "Hey, Micki, you took a bath with me and all along you were a grown man. Don't you think there was something wrong with that?" The question came without warning and Micki had to chuckle at the thought that it bothered Lupe. "It was Diego's mother who threw us into that tub together, as I recall. Besides, Lupe, you didn't have anything I haven't seen or had before, you just had 'em both at the same time. Oh, look, we need to get off at this next stop." The Graeos lived in a working class neighborhood that had somehow remained largely Italian-American. The residents had fiercely held on to their houses and were proud that few "undesirables" had moved in. Being Italian-American herself, Micki, or rather, Mick, had never given such things much thought in the past, but now, in the company of the attractive, but very dark-skinned Basilio children, she couldn't help but wonder how the people who lived here would think of them. They marched right up the steps and knocked on Nicky's door. Nicky's mother answered and had the usual reaction to her first look at Micki. "Oh who is this pretty little girl?" she gushed, as she grabbed Micki in a bear hug. "Bella, bella! Mick finally settled down and had a beautiful daughter, do you think my Nicky could do the same thing? Haw, I'll never be a grandmother." Lupe and Diego were pretty much forgotten in the excitement. "Er, hello?" Diego said. "We're here to go with Tony to his meeting. Is he ready?" "Oh, yeah, sorry kids, I'm so stunad, ah, stupid," Mrs. Graeo said, as she put Micki down. "You two, you're Diego and Guadeloupe, right? Tony told me you'd be goin' wit him today. Nicky's already gone to work at that fag palace of his. MS Tony'll be down in a minute." Mrs. Graeo insisted on serving the children milk and fresh baked muffins while they waited. She was a tiny woman, less than five feet tall and, while she was in her early fifties, her short, curly hair was dyed jet black. She was vivacious and full of energy and strong opinions - she spoke her mind and didn't care whose feelings she might hurt. She sold Avon products and Tupperware to help pay the bills and had developed a hard shell from years of hearing people tell her no. "Mrs. Graeo, what do you think of the recent developments of Tony's, err, personality," Diego said. "What do ya mean? What do I think of him becomin' a screamin' queen? Haw, it's what he deserves. You know how he used to treat his wife? A dog he woulda' treated better! And my Nicky! How he used to torment him! Now he's just getting a little of that back and frankly, it's OK wit' me. Fungul that da drull." At that point, Tony walked into the room. Sashayed would be a better word. He looked more like he was dressed for a party than an appointment with his therapist. He wore a pink taffeta dress that rattled whenever he took a step and carried a small white purse for his personal items. His white heels boosted him to 6'4" in height and he wore a Jacki K pillbox hat. His makeup was perfectly done as usual, but once again there was something unusual about Tony this morning. "Tony, you actually look . . . pretty," Micki said, in astonishment. "There's been another overnight change, hasn't there?" "Oh, oh, I know what it was," said Lupe, as she raised her hand like they were taking a quiz. "His forehead. Tony doesn't have the beetle brow anymore. His face is a lot more symmetrical now." "Yeah, that's it," Diego chimed in. "Tony doesn't look like a chimp wearing lipstick anymore. He actually looks human." "Very funny, wise ass," Tony said, as he raised his hand as if to slap the impertinent youth. "So you're sayin' I used ta look like an ape? And you're supposed ta be my friend." "Ah, you did look like a big gorilla an' you know it, Tony," Mrs. Graeo said. "Now fugetaboutit and get to your appointment. Good-bye kids, nice meetin' ya." The strange quartet took the buses to the parole office in Jersey City. Micki, Lupe and Diego were told to wait on some metal folding chairs outside Dr. Hillenbrand's office while Tony went inside for his appointment. The kids were content to wait for the moment, because, in spite of the closed door, Micki was able to use her superhuman senses to follow the conversation between doctor and client. "The doc is offering Tony a cup of coffee," Micki said. "Tony says thanks and mentions that he always has a cup of coffee before their appointments and how he didn't use to like coffee, but now he does." "Hmm, I wonder if something is in the coffee," Diego said. "Could be, because Tony's breathing and heartbeat have both slowed down." "Damn," Lupe said. "Is your hearing THAT good?" "I guess so. OK, now she's said 'black lace,' that must be the control phrase, just like we figured. Tony's real relaxed now, almost asleep, I think he's in a very suggestive state." "What's the doctor saying now?" "Hello, she's asking him if he's gone out on a date with a man yet. Tony tells her about his proposed date with the Arrow. Jesus! She just told Tony he ought to put out on the first date. She took something out of her desk drawer. It's a dildo! She wants Tony to put it in his mouth and suck on it and imagine it's Robichaux!" "Ah hell, I got to see this," Diego said. "We're going in!" With that the brash young would-be detective/superhero barged right through the closed door and into the room before anyone else could move. The receptionist, roused from her newspaper, blinked twice, then hauled ass to remove Diego from the forbidden office. Lupe and Micki shrugged their shoulders and decided to join the rush. Dr. Hillenbrand's office was unusually dark and unusually richly decorated for a government functionary. The only light in the room was from a small antique lamp on her desk. The windows were covered with black blinds that let in no sunlight. There was a smell of incense in the air and the vague sound of oriental music in the background. Dr. Hillenbrand was still in her chair and had the look of a queen who had just been disturbed by commoners. She shot a displeased look at the kids and barked a command to the receptionist behind them. "Alice! Get these children out of here, you know this is not allowed!" "No, Alice, we are going to stay for a while," Diego said to the bewildered government worker. "Why not go back to your desk and finish your paper? And, Alice, make sure we are not disturbed." Alice wavered for a moment, then smiled at Diego and left the room, closing the door behind her. "What the hell was that?" Dr. Hillenbrand hissed. "Some kind of hypnotic control I don't know about?" "The Force is most effective against the weak-minded," Diego chuckled. "And, Doc, I think you know a lot about hypnotism, yes? Look at old Tony-boy right here." Tony Bass still sat quietly in his comfortable chair, sucking away contentedly at a large, realistically flesh-colored dildo, his eyes cast upward as if looking at an invisable lover. "Ewww, Tony, how can you do that?" Lupe said, as she screwed up her face in disgust. "That's nasty!" "Make him stop, Dr. Hillenbrand," Micki said. "Or should I say Dr. Tern?" Lana Tern wasn't sure what was more surprising: that these kids knew her real name or that this angelic-looking urchin was ordering her around. In any case, she snapped her fingers and Tony immediately stopped sucking, pulled the dildo out of his mouth and looked at it for a second. "Ah what the fuck?" he bellowed, as he flung the offensive object across the room like it was a stick of dynamite. "Don't tell me I was givin' head to that thing." "Afraid so, Tony my boy," Diego said, with a cruel laugh. "Thanks to your doctor, known to you as Missy Hillenbrand, but better known to the Atlanta, GA authorities as Lana Tern, feminizer." Micki had braced herself to intercept Dr. Tern if she made a bid to escape the room, but, surprisingly, the blonde therapist was totally relaxed and her vital signs indicated she felt she was still in control of the situation. "Why is she so calm," Micki thought. "Does she have a surprise up her sleeve?" Dr. Tern folded her arms on her chest and gave the children a half-smile. "So, to what do I owe the honor of this visit?" "You can act as cool as you like, but once we tell the police you're wanted in Atlanta you'll be cooling it in the cooler, Doctor Tern." "Oh, and what is the charge?" "At the very least unethical conduct, hypnotizing and drugging patients against their wills. Then, there is the matter of the poor dude in Ohio who killed his wife because of you. That's accessory to murder, Doc." "And do you junior detectives have a warrant for my arrest?" "Ah, no, but all we have to do is tell the New Jersey police what you've been up to and they'll send you to Georga for prosecution there." "I haven't been charged with anything in Georga, idiot. There is no reason to extradite me. You don't really know how the law works, do you, kid? You have to have evidence and I'm afraid there's precious little against me." Diego's confidence oozed out of him like air from a punctured inner tube. He looked helplessly at Micki for some way to regain control of the situation. Dr. Tern also looked at Micki and gave another of her enigmatic smiles. "And what would the police think about what you've been doing to Tony?" Micki asked. "I know you've been drugging him with the coffee and those CDs you gave him to help him sleep contain subliminal feminizing messages. I'll bet you've been giving him the super- hormones the Atlanta authorities told us about, too." "Do you know what a mess Tony was in when he came to me?" Dr. Tern asked. "He had just beaten up Jayne, Dr. Masefield, and he was only a heartbeat away from the pen. Do you know what they'd have done to him there when they found out he had no genitals? Let's face it, Tony was a bastard. Nobody liked him, not even his fellow mobsters. It would take extraordinary therapy to save him, radical therapy, in fact. My methods may have been extreme, unorthodox, but they were for his own good. They saved his life." "Bullshit," Diego said. "You did this to him because of your own sick agenda, because you hate men and you want to punish us all." "No, you're wrong. I will admit, I was angry at Tony at first," Dr. Turn said, the smile leaving her face. "He had savagely beaten my friend and when I read his records I saw that was not the first time he'd used violence against a helpless woman. You have to believe me, after what happened in Ohio I had decided to . . . suspend the use of my technique for the time being. No one had ever reacted to what I did for them violently before, so I was determined to find out what went wrong. But I could see Tony really needed the treat