Many Worlds Inc: Switch World free porn video

MANY WORLDS INC: SWITCH WORLD by BobH (c) 2005 This is the second 'Many Worlds Inc' story. The first, also available on fictionmania, is: Finding Janine If you like this tale, you'll probably like that one. It also tells you a lot more about how Many Worlds Inc operates. (Note: This is a reworked version of a previously posted story with the ending altered. Various reviewers had suggested the original ending was emotionally wrong given what had preceeded it and, on consideration and after rereading it, I've decided they were right.) ****************************** Parallel worlds! Countless versions of the Earth spinning away through an infinite number of alternate universes! Even after five years of working at corporate headquarters here in the most desirable quadrant of Megalopolis East, Brian Blaine still sometimes found himself marvelling at just what Many Worlds Inc did. He might only be a lowly overseer in the accounts department rather than one of those who actually got to visit other Earths, but this did not stop him dreaming he would one day make that trip himself. He understood that all the other Earths that had been discovered to date were less technologically advanced than his own - usually designated Earth Zero - and that his Earth alone seemed to have avoided the periodic wars and collapses of civilisations that had interrupted scientific progress on the others, but if anything this only made the prospect of visiting them all the more intriguing. Coincidentally, today - 30th August 2005 - was the 200th anniversary of the first moon landing. Odd to think this had occurred so much later on the other Earths, and that on some it had never happened at all. "Daydreaming again, Blaine?" said an amused female voice, shaking him from his reverie. It was Cara Gianelli, his former supervisor. "What? No, of course not," lied Brian, running a hand through his shaggy blond mane and squaring his broad shoulders. "What brings you back down here? I thought you'd left us peons for the thirteenth floor." The thirteenth floor was where the apparatus for moving between universes was kept. Most of Many World Inc's employees did not have the clearance to visit it. Cara's surprise promotion had taken her there four months earlier. "I did," she said, "but that doesn't mean I've forgotten those I used to work with. An...opportunity... has opened up on the thirteenth floor. I need someone to help me on the project I'm working on, and I thought you might be interested." Brian Blaine had been waiting to hear those words or something like them for almost five years, but he paused before answering. He and Cara shared a past that was more than just professional. At almost six foot, she was a good three inches taller than him. Handsome rather than pretty, she had short dark hair, small high breasts, and favoured trouser suits over skirts and dresses. Extremely confident and self-assured, she had made plain her interest in Brian soon after they first met and, for a while, they had dated, though on her terms rather than his. Having the less forceful personality, he had gone along with this at first, but with everything being about her needs rather than his things had soon petered out. Sex between them had always involved him going down on her followed by her giving Brian a hand job, an arrangement that had ultimately proved unsatisfying to him. She had been genuinely hurt when he broke it off, revealing deeper feelings for him than he had realised. "So what do you say?" said Cara, eagerly. "I guess I have to say okay," said Brian, Cara responding by giving him a delighted hug. Whatever his misgivings about working with her again, he knew if he passed on the opportunity this time he might never get another. "Who'll oversee the financial quantum datacore if I go?" he asked. "Oh, don't worry about that," replied Cara, "Mr Questor has already arranged for one of his personal staff to take care of it." Despite himself, Brian was impressed by this. Isaac Questor was the Alternity Director and CEO of Many Worlds Inc. Just as he was answerable only to the Board of Directors, so his staff had sworn their corporate loyalty oaths to him personally. Their fortunes in the company were tied directly to his own and they were all high-flyers, certainly far brighter, more qualified and more motivated than Brian knew himself to be. Riding the null-grav elevator up to the thirteenth floor with Cara Gianelli, Brian realized that he was actually quivering with excitement and apprehension. Cara took his hand and gave it a quick squeeze or encouragement, smiling at him reassuringly when he glanced up at her face. On the thirteenth floor, the elevator opened directly into a reception area, an area identical in every respect to those on countless Earths across the multiverse. An attractive woman was sitting behind a desk, while picked out in gold lettering on the pale blue marble wall behind wall her was: MANY WORLDS INCORPORATED -WE HAVE BRANCHES EVERYWHERE. The corporate logo and company tagline. Brian had seen them many times before but seeing them in this context, anticipating what might lie ahead for him, brought a lump to his throat, and his heart swelled with pride. "Mr Questor is waiting for you," said the receptionist, "please go on through." Brian had never actually seen Isaac Questor in the flesh before, but he instantly recognized the tall, patrician figure waiting for them in the opulent office they were ushered into. That slate grey hair and powerful build were unmistakable. Questor did not look at them as they entered, his attention centered on a holoscreen showing what looked to be a cloud of small surveillance satellites in orbit around the Earth. As they watched, one of these suddenly glowed briefly before winking out of existence, leaving only empty space where it had been. "You know what that was, of course, Mr Blaine," he said. It was a statement, not a question. "It was a NESS," replied Brian, "a New Earths Survey Satellite. They're parked in orbit around our Earth and are designed to be injected into orbit around newly discovered Earths as part of our surveys of these. What we just wintnessed was one such transdimensional insertion. That satellite is now in orbit around another Earth, monitoring their radio traffic, TV shows and the like in order to build up as complete a picture of that world as possible. It's cloaked, of course, and given that our tech is ahead of those of any other Earth we've discovered to date, that cloaking has yet to be penetrated by the inhabitants of those Earths." "Very good," said Questor, finally turning to face them and fixing Brian with his piercing gaze. "What you may be unaware of, what we don't broadcast beyond the confines of the thirteenth floor, is that a satellite survey by itself is not enough to understand what can sometimes be a quite different culture. No, for that we need people on the ground. Before we set up a branch on a new Earth, we have to be sure we fully understand the culture there. The NESS gives us enough to prep our people before injection, but only by living there as natives for several months can they truly appreciate the culture. There is a new Earth we have several months of NASS observations on, but we now need a couple of evaluators to go in and experience it as natives. Ms Gianelli has volunteered for the assignment and suggested you for the other team member. What do you say, Mr Blaine?" Brian did not need any time to consider his answer. "Yes," he replied, "I'd be honored." "Good, then you and Ms Gianelli should proceed immediately for the Other Worlds Injection Chamber," said Questor. "Don't worry about your apartment and your responsibilities here. The company will take care of all that for you while you're gone." Doing as they had been told, Brian and Cara turned and headed back to reception. As he left the office, Brian cast a brief glance back at Isaac Questor, and was taken aback by the expession on his boss's face. It looked like a mixture of anger and contempt. "This is all going awfully fast," said Brian, as he and Cara made their way down the carpeted corridor leading to OWIC. "I mean, twenty minutes ago I was a humble technician in the financial department, and now here I am about to experience my first transdimensional injection, my first trip to another world. Why all the rush?" "Dimensional alignment," said Cara. "We have a good window for this particular Earth at the moment, one that means it will take less power than usual to get to, and we don't want to miss it." Brian had no idea whether this was true or whether she was just spinning him a line. It sounded plausible so he decided to let it go, but he was still uneasy at the pace of events. The Other Worlds Injection Chamber was a large room filled with all manner of, to Brian, incomprehensible machinery and a half dozen or so white-coated technicians frowning over several instument consoles. In the center of the room were what appeared to be several dentists' chairs with large bell-like cowlings suspended over them. "Ah, there you are," said one of the technicians, looking up from his console and coming over to them. "Let's get you each in a chair and prepped for insertion." Brian allowed himself to be strapped into one of the chairs while Cara was strapped into the one next to his. "We've nicknamed the Earth you'll be going to 'Switch World'", he said, looking at Brian as he activated a control, causing the cowlings to begin to descend down over them, "and if you volunteered to go to that one, you're a braver man than me." "Wait," said Brian, suddenly panicking, "what do you mean by that?" But it was too late. With a soft click the cowling closed into place over his chair and Brian was plunged into darkness. There was an audible hum as the various devices festooning the cowling were activated. Brian felt as if his head had begun to spin. He could tell he was not actually moving, but there was no way of letting his head know this important fact. The spinning grew in intensity, and soon he blacked out. Brian came to slowly, gradually becoming aware that he was no longer strapped to a chair but lying on something soft: a bed. His anus was sore, but pleasantly so, and he felt physically warm and sated, the way he always did after great sex. With that realization - that what his body was experiencing was a post coital afterglow - Brian sat bolt upright in bed, becoming instantly aware of a new, unexpected weight on his chest. Eyes snapping downwards, he saw what now hung from that chest and almost fainted. Breasts! Full, shapely, female breasts, framed by the long red hair tumbling over his shoulders. This could not be real! Shaking, he grabbed his breasts, as shocked by the long, painted nails at the end of his fingers as by the soft flesh of those alien orbs. Panicking, Brian reached down to his crotch, seeking his familiar member. And finding it. "What the fuck?" he said, barely even noticing his now higher voice. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed he rushed over to the full length wall mirror, only then registering the negligee, garter belt, and silk stockings he was wearing. He was several inches shorter than he had been, his narrow shoulders and small back in stark contrast to the wide shoulders and broad back he had possessed. His features were softer and more delicate but, for all that, the face beneath the make-up was still recognizably his own. It was almost as if he had been transformed into a woman, and if not for his penis he would have thought he had been. "A she-male," he whispered, licking his lips and tasting his lipstick for the first time, "I've been turned into a she-male!" Curious, he kneaded his breasts again, not finding the implants there he expected to. No, these breasts were...natural. His hair, which reached down to just below his shoulder blades, was dishevelled and his lipstick in need of repair. Brian was pretty sure he knew why. He had woken in this new form in a post-coital afterglow, which meant he had just had sex, but if so then with whom? He turned from the mirror, casting his gaze around the room again, noticing for the first time that it was a hotel room. From the logos on various items, this was the Bellagio and they were in Las Vegas. On the bedside table, casually laid aside after use, was a strap-on dildo. It had only just started to dawn on Brian what this must mean when a toilet flushed in the next room. The door to the bathroom opened to reveal Cara Gianelli standing there, naked. She was taller and more toned than she had been, with good muscle definition, her hair cut shorter, and her breasts even smaller. She grinned at him. "My, don't you look cute!" she said. "C...Cara? What is this? What's happened to us?" "We're now a typical married couple for this world," she said. "So how does it feel to be Mrs Gianelli?" "You knew this Earth was like this didn't you?" said Brian, accusingly. "Of course I did," she replied, walking up to Brian and gazing down at him. "People at Many Worlds are not falling over each other to be assigned to evaluate Earths like this one, worlds that deviate significantly from the norm. That's why I volunteered for this mission. Ordinarily, I'd have had to have put in more time on the thirteenth floor than I have done before I got the chance to visit another Earth. Of course, people were not exactly chomping at the bit to fill the other spot on this mission, so I put your name forward. Whatever your feelings at the moment, if we make a good job of this it'll boost both our careers." "I suppose," said Brian, still not mollified but seeing the logic of her words. "Plus," said Cara running a hand lightly over Brian's breasts and smiling as they heaved at her touch, "we can have a lot of fun exploring the local sexual customs." Her caress felt unbelievably good and it took all Brian's willpower to pull away. "No," he gasped, "I want to keep this strictly professional." "Suit yourself," shrugged Cara, "but you don't know what you're missing." She flexed a bicep, and nodded approvingly. "Most women here do weight training to build muscle. Men just do exercises to keep their stomachs flat and their waists slim, of course." Brian opened his mouth to comment on this. Whatever he might have said was cut-off by the phone ringing. Cara picked up the receiver. "Yeah?" she said. "Yeah, this is Cara. OK, right. We'll be down in fifteen minutes." "Who was that?" asked Brian. "Friends of ours, apparently," said Cara, "phoning to remind us we'd agreed to meet them for drinks down in the hotel bar. So I guess you'd better repair your lipstick and we'd best get dressed. Those would be your clothes on that chair." The chair she had indicated contained a discarded bra and scarlet evening gown. There were a pair of high heels on the floor beside the chair. "You have got to be kidding me!" said Brian. "'Fraid not," smiled Cara, giving his ass a friendly slap. "That's male attire in this world. And don't take too long making yourself look pretty. We don't want to keep our friends waiting, do we?" With that, she went over and turned the television on. "Might as well find out a bit more about this world while we get dressed." As luck would have it there was a local news broadcast on, albeit halfway through. The news anchors - a distingushed grey-haired woman and a pretty twentysomething blonde, his hair and make-up immaculate, his blouse revealing just the right amount of cleavage - were discussing a scandal involving the governor of Nevada, who had just announced she was leaving her wife of twenty years for a Vegas showboy. She had run for governor on a strong 'family values' platform, so this had caused consternation among local Republicans, who were already trying to distance themselves from her. "Guess it doesn't matter which Earth you're on," chuckled Cara, struggling with one of the cufflinks for her shirt. "Seems politicians are the same everywhere." Brian hardly heard her, or the TV. Sitting in front of the dressing table mirror, studying his reflection, the enormity of what had happened to him was sinking in. For the next few months that reflection staring back at him would be his, and this Earth would be his home. Slowly, hesitatingly, he took a wetwipe and carefully removed his lipstick. The rest of his make-up seemed undamaged, which was just as well since he lacked the skill to reapply it - that would take practise. And the fact that he accepted this, that he knew he would indeed do that practise, was when he knew that he had resigned himself to his situation. Cara was right. They had a job to do, and part of his job over the next few months would involve dressing like this and trying to fit in. So be it. Selecting a lipstick from the cosmetics arrayed before him, Brian twisted it open and carefully applied it to his lips. When Cara had offered him her arm, Brian had taken it automatically, without thinking. It had seemed like the natural thing to do. Even now, as they headed down the corridor to the elevator, Brian acutely aware of the the weight of his breasts on his chest as they walked, the feel of the air across his exposed cleavage, and the earrings swinging from his earlobes, it still seemed natural. Though muscle memory had kicked in and had so far prevented him from stumbling in his heels, it was reassuring to have someone to lean on should he fall. What felt totally strange was the bra around his chest; the garter belt, stockings, and silk panties below his waist; and the gown whose hem was swirling around his ankles. Strangest of all was knowing he was not dressed as a woman but as a man, that this was not female finery here but male. Stealing a glance at Cara, he was taken by how good she looked in her tuxedo, how...handsome. Perhaps the shock of their situation was beginning to wear off, because he found himself becoming aroused, until that is he realised that arousal was not taking the form of an erection - his penis remained uncharacteristically limp - but of a warmth and a moistening of his anus. "What's wrong?" asked Cara concernedly as Brian stopped dead in his tracks. "How exactly do men and women have sex on this Earth?" he asked. "What?" said Cara. "Can't this wait?" "No," said Brian, "it can't. I need to know. I can tell we're biologically different here. I mean, the men of this world have breasts, and they're real, not implants. Please tell me, Cara." "OK," she sighed. "As you'll have noticed, gender roles are reversed on this world. Men are the smaller, weaker sex here. They're also the ones who get penetrated during intercourse. The primary response to sexual arousal in the male is felt in his anus, which becomes lubricated in anticipation of penetration. Only when that penetration is occurring, when he's being fucked, and his prostate stimulated does the male's penis become erect, spontaneous ejaculation occurring when he achieves orgasm. Being submissive is hard-wired into the brains of the men of this world, just as being dominant is hard-wired into the brains of the women, so both find this extremely enjoyable. After he's been fucked, the man will pleasure the woman orally. When giving head, the male's tongue, reacting to vaginal secretions, can extend significantly further than it normally would and is more, ah, manipulable. Needless to say, the women of this Earth are blessed with the best cunnilingus to be found on any world we've yet discovered." There was a *ding* as the door to the elevator they had paused a few feet short of slid open. "Time to join our new friends," said Cara, ushering him through the door, "we can discuss this further la In the lobby of the hotel were signs indicating the Bellagio was hosting a computer expo, one of which pointed to the ballroom where the evening's entertainment would be held. What caught their immediate attention however was quite possibly the most beautiful face either of them had ever seen, staring down at them from an enormous poster that dominated the lobby. At the top of the poster was the logo of a company called Compudynamics, while at the bottom was a hugely enlarged signature that read: Keris. "Wow, she's gorgeous," said Brian. "'He'," said Cara. "On this world that's going to be a man, remember?" "Yeah, but any woman on our Earth would kill to look like that. Do you know who he is?" "Keris, aka Chris Neville, sometime actress and singer and this world's most famous supermodel. Compudynamics are the planet's leading computer company. If Keris is lending his image to their advertising it must be costing them a fortune." They made their way to the ballroom and entered, pausing momentarily at the entrance and looking around at the people at the many tables, the women all looking smart and prosperous in their tuxedos, the men glamorous in an array of fabulous gowns, many with elaborate hairdos and sporting expensive jewellery. Everyone was a lot trimmer than they would have been at a similar gathering on most Earths, and Brian could see no facial hair anywhere, nor any bald heads or thinning hair. Clearly, beards and moustaches were unknown on this world, as was male pattern baldness. Brian approved of this; any world without the comb-over had something going for it. Someone was waving to them from a table. "Cara! Brian! Over here!" she shouted. They walked over to the table, in the center of which stood a card bearing a company logo that read Ferris-Gianelli Technologies. The woman who had called out to them greeted Cara with a handshake and Brian with a kiss on the cheek. She was the same height as Cara, bespectacled, dark- haired, clad in a dark three-piece suit, and holding a Scotch and a large cigar in one hand. Sitting next to her was a pretty brunette who rose to his feet as they reached the table. He shared a quick air kiss with Brian, keen not to muss either of their make-ups, and accepted a hug from Cara. Brian was surprised when Cara pulled out a chair for him, and noticed that neither woman sat down until both men were seated. As they sat, Brian saw that each had a place setting card in front of them with their names on, which made things much easier. This couple were Anne and Jerry Ferris, and from that company logo he deduced that they were in business together. Or at least, Anne and Cara were. He was beginning to suspect that men in this world were not as emancipated as their female counterparts in many others. There were two other cards on the table, made out for Ella and Frank Lanford. He wondered who and where they might be. "You took your time, buddy," grinned Anne, playfully thumping Cara's shoulder, "but then newlyweds never can keep their hands off each other, can they? Remember when we were first married, honey? We were at it all the time." "Oh, Anne!" said Jerry, blushing but smiling. "Hey, you know what it's like," shrugged Cara, grinning at Brian, "we've been fucking like rabbits". "Language," frowned Anne. "There are ladies present, remember." "Oh yeah, sorry about that," said Cara. "Got a bit carried away there." "Understandable," smiled Anne, "and after all that exertion you'll need a drink and a fine cigar." There were a number of cigarette boys - youths in their late teens and early twenties - circulating through the room, wearing four inch heels, heavy make-up, and what looked very much like an all-pink French maid's uniform - carrying a tray in front of them (balanced by a strap around their necks) bearing cigars and packs of cigarettes. Anne summoned one to their table. "One of your best cigars for my buddy here, miss," she said. "Certainly, sir," smiled the boy, removing a cigar from its tube, guillotining the end off, and handing it to Cara. She took it, smelled it appreciatively, then accepted a light from the boy. She exhaled approvingly, a pleased and slightly surprised expression on her face. It was, Brian knew, the first cigar she had ever smoked. Clearly, certain tastes came along with these new bodies. "I know you weren't happy about having to come to this expo just two days after getting back from your honeymoon," said Anne, puffing on her own cigar enthusiastically, "but there's no reason we shouldn't find as much enjoyment as we can in necessity." "While you women do your bit for air pollution," said Jerry, wrinkling his nose, "I think we boys need to powder our noses. Come on, Bri." A bit non-plussed, Brian did as he was bid, allowing Jerry to take his hand and lead him towards the rest rooms. Why did they need to powder their noses? Was there something wrong with their make-up? "So give, boyfriend" smiled Jerry, turning to face Brian as soon as they were in the bathroom. "Is being a newlywed all you hoped it would be? Has Cara been giving that pert little derriere of yours the drilling it deserves? Has she had you in every room of your house yet? Where did she take your cherry?" Swearing in front of them was a no-no, but this level of personal questioning was OK?!? "Yeah, of course," lied Brian, "every room. When she'd had her way with me I could barely walk straight afterwards." "Oh, that takes me back," said Jerry, sighing happily at the memory. "I'm sure it does," smiled Brian, "and I bet you could give me some pointers, too. Being a wife is still new to me, and I need all the help I can get." "Then you've come to the right person, sweetie. Every wife needs to know how to use his masculine wiles to keep his husband wrapped around his little finger, and I'm an expert. Any boy who can't should be sent to the Institute to have his masculinity boosted, in my opinion," she laughed. "Remember all those classes in high school on running a home, and on hair and make-up and making yourself as attractive as possible so you could snare a woman? They were all useful and necessary, but they don't teach you how to get your way with your husband. Only experience can teach you that." And having succeeded in turning the conversation away from himself, Brian listened raptly to the outpouring of advice from Jerry that followed. He would need to know this stuff if he was to play his assigned role in the months to come, and it was all good cultural data to pass on when they eventually returned home. He had no idea what Jerry meant by 'the Institute', but there would be plenty of time to find out later. "Ladies and Gentlewomen," announced the MC from the ballroom stage as the two men arrived back at their table, "give it up for our house band, and let the dancing begin!" Brian did not resist when Cara led him onto the dance floor; they both loved dancing and this was one of the things he had missed when they stopped dating. Of course, it was a different experience with her leading and him in high heels and a gown, but Brian still found himself enjoying it. Nor did he protest when she took him in her arms and held him close for the slow numbers. It felt surprisingly good. And though he knew he should have resisted when, at the end of one of these, she lifted his chin and kissed him softly on his painted lips, he found himself sighing happily instead. Focus. He needed to stay focussed. "What were you laughing about with Anne when Jerry and I got back from the ladies' rest room?" asked Brian, more to take his mind off what he was feeling than from any burning need to know. "We were reminiscing about her bachelor party," said Cara, sliding her arms around his waist once more as the next slow number began, "or rather she was reminiscing, of course, since despite her remembering me being there I wasn't. Apparently we had a raucus time with lots of beer and a couple of strippers who put on a hot boy-on-boy show for us. I wish I'd been there to see it for real. A funny thing that. Homosexuality is almost unknown here yet boy-on-boy action is simulated for the viewing pleasure of women." "That is odd," said Brian, frowning. "Yeah, there are quite a few things about this Earth that don't make sense, but we can discuss that later." They danced a few more numbers before rejoing Anne and Jerry at their table. Brian wondered why the other couple had not yet had a dance. "Two left feet," said Anne sheepishly. "Do you mind if Jerry has a dance with Cara?" asked Brian, noticing the expression on the other man's face. "No, no, not at all," said Anne. Cara looked surprised and Jerry pleased, as he rose to his feet, holding his hand out for Cara to lead him onto the dance floor. "So, you looking forward to getting back to work in the office on Monday?" asked Anne. "Well, a longer honeymoon would have been nice," said Brian, actually relieved to learn it was over, "but I'm eager to get back to work." With a degree in computing and several years experience working with the quantum datacores at Many Worlds Inc., Brian knew he would find the computers of this less technologically advanced and Earth simple to improve. "Great!" said Anne. "Jerry's been handling the phones and doing all the typing while you were gone so he's gonna be glad to have you helping with the workload. And I know Cara will want to roll her sleeves up and get back to working on the new computer design with me." A typist and phone operator? He knew more about computers than Anne ever would, yet he was expected to type letters and answer the phone? He felt an overwhelming urge to protest, to tell her just where she could put her phones and her typing, but the words died in his mouth at the sight of the couple heading for their table. Black, attractive, and elegant, they made their way carefully across the ballroom, the woman solicitously guiding her wife, his belly round and distended by what Brian immediately recognized as an advanced state of pregnancy. "Ella! Frank!" said Anne getting to her feet, "Great to see you could make it after all." "Yeah, well we managed to get a sitter for the twins I was happy with at the last minute," said Frank, carefully lowering himself into the chair his husband held out for him, "and Ella wanted to be here when the company gets that award. She did as much to make it a success as you and Cara did, after all." "Couldn't have done it without her," agreed Anne, patting Ella on the back. "You going to sit there with your mouth open like you never seen a pregnant man before, or are you going to say hello properly to your best friend?" asked Frank, staring at Brian quizzically. "Oh, sorry," said Brian, shaking himself out of it and leaning forward to exchange an air kiss with the other man, "I was miles away." "Got that right," laughed Frank. "So how was your honeymoon in the Bahamas?" "Oh, it was wonderful!" said Brian, knowing this is what was expected. He was struck yet again by how weird it was he was an old friend to these people despite not having known they even existed a few hours earlier. "Ah, here comes Cara with Jerry," said Ella as they returned from the dancefloor, "and just in time for the awards presentation." Jerry sat down next to Frank and, after they had air-kissed, started cooing over Frank's 'bump'. "Here," said Frank, taking the hand of each of the other men and placing them gently on his abdomen, "feel the little tyke kick." "Oh, she's a strong one!" squealed Jerry, no one noticing just how queasy this was making Brian. "Yeah," smiled Frank, happily, "but I can't tell you how relieved I am she's coming out tomorrow. I love being pregnant during the early stages - well, apart from all that puking in the first trimester - but by this point I'm really looking forward to not carrying all this weight around anymore, and being able to get at my feet comfortably enough to paint my toenails again. I just hope it doesn't take me as long to get my figure back as it did after I had the twins." "Hey, they're starting!" said Anne, as the MC walked back out onto the small stage. The next half-hour saw all manner of worthies stepping up and receiving awards signifying the recognition of their peers in the industry for some achievement or other, before the one they were waiting for was finally announced. "And the award for innovation in computer design goes to Ferris- Gianelli!" announced the MC to enthusiastic applause from the assembled guests. Cara, Ella, and Anne went up to the stage to receive the award. Anne Ferris took the microphone. "I can't tell you how thrilled we are that you've chosen to honor us with this award," she said. "It makes all those eighteen hour days Cara and I spent slaving away in her garage to build our first prototype all worthwhile. And, of course, we would not be standing here today without the miracle that Ella Lanford performed when she applied her business genius to turning the dreams of two computer geeks into an actual viable company that looks like it's going places. I'd also like to thank our wives Jerry, Frank and Brian, without whose support we also would not be standing here. And finally, I'd like to give my congratulations to Ella and Frank, who will be having their third child tomorrow. Thank you." Lots more applause and cheers followed as the three woman left the stage and returned to their table, to be greeted with hugs and kisses from their wives. And that was pretty much the end of the evening. There were a few more awards, some more celebratory drinks and dancing, then everyone said their goodnights and headed back to their hotel rooms. "Pregnant!" shouted Brian when they got back to their room, "How can he be pregnant? Tell me everything about how that can be and tell me now!" "It's really not that difficult," said Cara, undoing her tie and removing her tux. "Pretty much all the Earths we've discovered to date are at the level of technology where they know it's theoretically possible to implant an embryo in a man and have him carry it to term if they so chose, but few have actually attempted this. Delivery has to be by C- section, of course, which is what Frank will undergo tomorrow." "So how did this society reach this point," said Brian, "and how did their biology get them here? Give me the full birds and the bees version. Start with male biology. Just how different am I here?" "OK," sighed Cara. "You might want to kick off your shoes and make yourself comfortable before I do." Brian did as she suggested, letting out a long sigh of relief when he took his heels off. Until then he had not realised just how much they were constricting his feet. When he sat down on the bed, Cara smiled and began her explanation. "Being a male on this world is a lot different than being one on ours. As he goes through puberty on our world, the male's voice deepens, he develops facial and bodily hair, and his back and his shoulders broaden. None of that happens here. On this earth the male skeleton stops growing during puberty (unlike the female's), he never develops a broader back or shoulders, or facial and bodily hair, and his voice remains high. What he does develop at puberty, of course, is breasts." "I'd pretty much figured that out for myself," said Brian, glancing down at his chest. "What about sex and reproduction?" "As I mentioned earlier, sex on this world involves the male submitting to the female, who then fucks him, bringing him to orgasm and causing him to ejaculate. Fairly early on in their history, the woman of this world developed the strap on dildo, the better to pleasure their mates. I assume they used their fingers at first, and this still forms a part of foreplay for many. Anyway, when they wanted children, the male would take care to catch his semen. He would then place this on his tongue, impregnating the female when he pleasured her, which is presumably another reason for male tongues being as they are on this Earth. One consequence of this system is that there's no such thing as an unplanned pregnancy here, hence no need for or even any real concept of contraception. They have condoms now, but these are used solely to catch sperm, either for use or just to avoid making a mess on the sheets." "Wait!" said Brian. "You're saying that woman were impregnated by the men, but that's not what happens now." "Patience," said Cara, "I'm getting to that. And, yes, the women of this world did used to bear the children, just as they do on the others. However, breast feeding has always been done by men here, female breasts being non-functional. As you'll have noticed, woman's breasts rarely even reach a B-cup but for adult males that's as small as they get. The presence of a baby triggers lactation in men. Any baby, any man. Pretty strong pheromones those rugrats give off here. Put you in a room with a baby and within an hour or so you'd be able to feed him. Which makes a certain amount of evolutionary sense given the natives' biology. This has also led to all manner of interesting bonding rituals among men, as you might imagine, and this is one of those areas we need to study. We know some of how this works but there are going to be nuances we have to learn. It's considered an honour to be invited suckle to a friend's child, and also something of a rite of passage for teenage boys. Baby-sitting of unweaned children usually involves suckling them too, hence Frank's reluctance to come out tonight until a suitable sitter had been lined up. No mother is going to let just anyone suckle his babies, after all." "So these can start producing milk at anytime?" said Brian, indicating his breasts and once again feeling queasy. "Not 'can' but *will*!" grinned Cara. "There's no point you trying to avoid it because it's going to happen. Fortunately, if you're not around babies they cease lactating as quickly as they start. As to why it's now the men of this world that bear the children... Well, as you might have started to grasp, they're mostly limited to what used to be called 'pink collar' jobs or to being housewives. Oh there are men who are actresses, or singers, or prostitutes, but none who are politicians, or who head corporations, or who have any positions of power at all. And they prefer it that way. When I said being submissive was hard-wired into their brains I wasn't kidding. Not only don't they have positions of power but they don't want them. They have the vote but most don't use it. And those that do usually vote the same way their husband does. Not because she tells him to but because she's the head of the family and so obviously must know best. There's never been any equivalent of the feminist movement here, and there probably never will be. Getting back to the women, imagine what it would be like to live in a world where those in positions of leadership and power were also the ones who carried the children, where you might suddenly need to mobilize your military in reponse to an emergency only to discover a significant number of them were pregnant. The first country to perfect IVF on this world, about eighty years, ago realized what an advantage it would give them against other nations if their women were to be relieved of the burden of bearing children. So the decision was taken that henceforth it would be men who bore them. And since the men do what their women tell them to, they went along with this, of course. Other nations followed suit and now it's only the most backward of countries where childbearing is still done by women. Naturally, everyone in a country like this is too young to remember things ever being done another way." Brian shivered. This revelation coming on top of everything else that had happened to him today was almost too much. The accumulating culture shock was starting to overwhelm him. Cara sat down beside him and slid an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into her embrace. "Hey, it's OK," she said, kissing him softly on the forehead, "it's going to be alright." "I..I guess," said Brian, still shaking. "It's all so overwhelming. How do other evaluators stand it?" "Well, this is an extreme case," said Cara. "It's usually a lot easier to absorb than this." She gently, stroked his cheek and he nuzzled closer to her. Then he stiffened. "Don't," he said. "I was only trying to comfort you." "I know," said Brian, "and I..I need it. It's just...I don't want this to develop into something more, and the way I'm feeling now it easily could." "Don't worry," said Cara, taking the strap-on from where it still lay on the bedside table and dropping it in the small drawer below. "I'm not trying to take advantage of you, but please let me do this for you. We used to be close." Which is how they ended up in bed that night, huddled together. True to her word, Cara did not try to take things any further. Brian was grateful for that, and for how good it felt to have her body snuggled up against his. Waking the next morning, Brian was momentarily confused as to where he was, then it all came rushing back to him. He was acutely aware of the weight of his breasts on his chest, something it was clearly going to take time to get used to. Propping himself up on one elbow, he fingered one of the small bows on the neckline of his night dress and looked down thoughtfully at the woman asleep beside him. Knowing that sleeping with their naked bodies pressed together could have been just too damn much temptation, he had insisted on the night dress, but had he been worried about her temptation or his own? Cara might have been underhand in getting him to agree to visit this world without explaining its nature, but he had agreed to see their mission through which meant this would now be their life for several months at least. He had not expected them to be a couple on this world, could never have dreamed he would ever be the wife in such a relationship, yet here they were. Just how far would he go, *could* he go in order to make that relationship seem real to those they would have to work and socialize with? "A penny for them?" said Cara, opening her eyes and smiling up at him. "Oh, I don't think you'd have any trouble figuring out what I was thinking about," he said. "I suppose not," she sighed. "So how are you feeling today?" "Much better," said Brian, "there's nothing like sleeping on a problem to help you sort things out. The culture shock got to me last night, but I think I'm going to be alright now." "I'm glad to hear it," said Cara, sliding a hand inside his night dress and gently fondling his left breast. Grinning, she gave it a quick squeeze then sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. "Time I was up and about," she said, and padded off to the bathroom. Brian touched his breast where Cara had squeezed it, an unreadable expression on his face, before sighing and getting out of bed. There was a laptop on the vanity, next to where his cosmetics were laid out. Brian sat down, examined his reflection in the mirror, and grimaced. Going to sleep without removing your make-up was not a good idea, he decided. Opening a jar of cold cream, he took a dollop and worked it into his face, removing it and the old make up with a tissue. When Cara got out of the shower he would clean himself thoroughly, but for now this satisfied him. Brian flipped open the laptop, launching the web browser and going online. Banner ads appeared for a company offering something called 'Male Hygiene Products'. Curious, Brian clicked on the ad and was taken to a page offering items such as anal deodorants and post-coital suppositories. Despite himself, he laughed. Did men really need such things here, he wondered, or was this just a way of making money from male vanity? Still chuckling, he searched out a news site and was soon engaging with what there he found there. There was still a lot to discover about his new home, and he wanted to know it all. So engrossed was he that he barely noticed when Cara exited the bathroom, towelling her hair after her shower. "Find something interesting?" she asked. "I don't know," said Brian. "You told me that homosexuality was almost unknown on this world?" "Pretty much," said Cara. "When those hormones kick in at puberty they have a powerful effect in terms of creating sexual interest in the opposite sex, far stronger than anything that happens on our Earth. Even boys who are tomgirls lose interest in the rough pursuits of females, start taking an interest in dresses and make-up and those sorts of things considered boyish here. They become coquettish and giggly around girls, and generally softer and more submissive. Any sexual urges they might have felt towards their own gender get more or less obliterated. The same applies to girls. What made you ask?" "I was web-surfing, following links pretty much at random, and I came across a site devoted to Thai ladygirls. These are young women who want to be boys and who have breast implants, use make-up and wear dresses in order to emulate them. They're sexually attracted to other women, and many work in the sex trade in that country." "Hmm, interesting," said Cara, rubbing her chin. "Yes, that does seem to be an anomaly. Definitely something to include in our reports. So what else did you discover?" From her tone, Brian guessed she had expected him to spot something obvious, something staring him in the face, but he had no idea what this might be. "When we were dancing last night, you said they were things about this Earth that didn't make sense," said Brian, slowly. "Am I missing something obvious?" "Maybe," replied Cara, sounding disappointed but with a look in her eyes that said otherwise. "Anyway, you'd better log off, get dressed, and put your make-up on. We need to vacate this room and head on to our new home." "I could save time by not bothering with the make-up," said Brian, logging off. "Not an option, I'm afraid," said Cara. "The men of this society start using cosmetics as soon as they're through puberty. A man not wearing make-up here attracts the same sort of attention and disapproval as a man not wearing any pants would in our America." "Great, just great," sighed Brian, viewing the cosmetics arrayed before him with some trepidation. "I haven't had time to practise yet, so it's going to be fairly crude and basic." "That will have to do for now," said Cara, "but you'll really need to put in some serious practice until you've mastered putting on make-up. It's a skill expected of males here." "Yeah, I'd kind of figured that out already," said Brian, reaching for a lipstick. Their new friends and colleagues had had early flights out of McCarran, with Frank Lanford scheduled to go straight from the airport to the maternity ward as soon as the airplane touched down in San Francisco. Cara and Brian's early afternoon flight allowed them time to have a relatively leisurely brunch in the hotel before checking out. Once on their plane and in the air, the pair spent the whole flight reading what to others would be recreational material but which for them was research. Cara had given Brian a romance novel to read, a 'bodice ripper'. It told the story of a boy's deflowering by the Lord of the local manor, and how he melted her stern and unforgiving heart so she then took him for her bride. It was not great literature, but as he read it Brian found himself getting aroused and wondering, not for the first time, what it would be like to be 'taken' by Cara. He glanced at her, sitting there beside him, and then shook his head angrily. Damn it! These were not thoughts he should even be entertaining, but there was something about this Earth that got under your skin. Having found the address of their house from documents they had with them, they got a taxi to take them home from San Francisco airport. Both were pleasantly surprised by the house the taxi pulled up outside. It was large, stood on a hill, and overlooked the bay. "I guess our company must be more successful than I thought," said Cara as she unlocked the front door. Dumping their bags in the hall they did a quick inventory of the house and its contents. Most of those contents were new, many still in their boxes or under the plastic wrapping they had been delivered in. "Anne said something about us flying out to Vegas only two days after getting back from our honeymoon," said Cara, shaking her head, "and it looks like a lot of this stuff was delivered in those two days." "Jerry assumed we spent those days having sex," said Brian. "He wanted to know if you'd had me in every room yet." "Really?" grinned Cara. "Well I'm more than willing, if you want me to. Husbands should do their best to satisfy the sexual cravings of their wives, after all." "In your dreams!" said Brian. "You're the one who brought it up," said Cara, eyeing him speculatively, "so it seems to me you're the one who's been thinking about it and is perhaps more turned on by the idea than you want to admit." Damn! Why had he even brought that up, Brian wondered? What was he thinking? "Right, well, I'm going to start unpacking and getting all these boxes sorted out," said Cara. "And while I'm doing that you'd better practise your make-up. Spend all day practising if you have to. It's a vital skill you need to pick up to fit in in this society." "But I don't know the first thing about how to do it properly," Brian protested. "Where do I even start?" "I may be able to help you there," said Cara, heading out of the room and returning a couple of minutes later with a cardboard box on which was scrawled: 'Brian - School Books'. "You said Jerry had told you boys were taught about make-up in high school," she said, tearing the box open, "so it stands to reason you were also taught it in school on this world and...ah! Here we are!" Cara passed Brian two books from the box: 'Cosmetics For Boys' and 'Advanced Cosmetics For Boys'. "Take these upstairs with you, sit down at your vanity with them, and don't come down those stairs again until you've done an acceptable job with your make-up, OK?" Brian nodded. "I..I suppose so," he sighed. "Good," smiled Cara, lifting his chin and kissing Brian long and deep. He did not resist, and found himself going weak at the knees before she finally pulled away. "What..what was that for?" said Brian, more than a little dazed. "To let you know I understand how difficult this must be for you, that I appreciate your willingness to knuckle down and make this mission a success...and because I really, really wanted to kiss you." "Oh," said Brian. "Well, I guess that's alright then." With that he turned from Cara and, somewhat unsteadily, made his way upstairs. Touching his lips, he marveled at the way his body now reacted to her touch, at how hard his nipples were and at the warmth and wetness in his anus. In the bedroom, distracted by how horny he was feeling, Brian lay down on the bed and started fondling his breasts. He tried playing with his penis but, of course, it did not react. Damn it! How did guys in this world masturbate, anyway? With the question came a sudden suspicion as to what the answer must be. Reaching into the drawer under his bedside table, his hand closed on the object he expected to find there. Though it was not something he had ever expected to use on himself, Brian desperately needed release, so he switched the vibrator on and gratefully eased it into himself. It had been designed to work with the biology of the men of this Earth, and it felt wonderful! Brian soon had an erection and, his old instincts kicking in, he started to play with it. For all the effect this had he might as well have been playing with his thigh. Finally appreciating just how differently his nervous system was wired here, he soon abandoned this now pointless action and concentrated all his attention his body's new sexual center. None of the old sexual fantasies that had brought him to orgasm on his own world worked here, but the thought of surrendering himself to Cara, of her strong hands firmly grasping his hips as she slammed her dildo into him with powerful thrusts of her own hips, did the trick. When he finally came, Brian was stunned by the strength of his orgasm. It was overwhelming, the best he had ever known. Still panting, Brian wiped himself clean, already trying to deny the ramifications of what had just happened. To do otherwise would mean accepting things about himself and this world he just was not ready to face yet. Sitting at his vanity table, Brian surveyed the daunting variety of cosmetics arrayed before him. There were lipsticks, foundations, blushers, eyeliners, eye shadows, lip glosses, moisturisers, face powders, mascaras, perfumes, nail polishes, hair care products, and a whole range of creams and fluids in small but expensive-looking bottles and jars whose purpose he could only guess at. He knew he needed to know what every last item was, and when to use each of them. Sighing, he opened 'Cosmetics For Boys', relieved to see it contained copious color illustrations, and began to read. It was several hours later that Brian made his way down the stairs again, pleased by his handiwork and hoping Cara would be too while simultaneously annoyed at himself for even thinking such a thing. He found Cara sitting in a leather armchair in her study, smoking a cigar with obvious enjoyment. Her eyes went wide when she saw him, and she rose to her feet. "Not bad," she grinned, "not bad at all." Brian shivered with pleasure at her compliment. "There was a phone call earlier," said Cara (Brian had heard this while he was pleasuring himself). "It was Frank. He had his baby this morning. Apparently, you were due to visit him after work tomorrow, but he'd like you to visit today. It's mid-afternoon already, so how about I order in some food and then drive you to the hospital. It's on the way to the Ferris's place, and Anne mentioned in Vegas she wanted to go over details with me so that we're on the same page for a meeting with potential investors tomorrow. I can drop you off and pick you up on my way back." "Oh...OK," said Brian, feeling oddly deflated. He had assumed he and Cara would be spending the afternoon together. The maternity ward of the hospital was much like those Brian had seen before, with young mothers breastfeeding or otherwise fussing over their babies, except that in this ward the mothers were all men. "Brian, over here!" shouted Frank, spotting Brian before Brian had spotted him. He looked happy but tired, a baby gurgling away in his arms. "Wow, she's beautiful!" said Brian, lowering himself into the bedside chair, and she was. Inquisitive and alert, she paused in her examination of the foot she was holding in front of her nose to stare at Brian. "She's going to grow up big and strong and have all the boys swooning over her!" beamed Frank, the proud mother. "We've decided to call her Miriam." "Is Ella looking after the twins?" asked Brian. "Oh no," said Frank. "When that husband of yours decided to get together to talk business with Anne, they roped Ella into joining them. No, my brother Jermaine volunteered." "Jermaine, huh?" said Brian distractedly, hurt by the news the meeting had been Cara's idea. Didn't she want to spend time with him? "Yeah, Jermaine," said Frank, not noticing the pained look on his friend's face. "He's a sweet kid really, loves children and could make a great Mom one day, but I'm worried about him. He gives it away far too easily. A boy has his reputation to think of, and if people start thinking Jermaine's a slut it's going to ruin his marriage prospects. Stars like Keris can get away with that sort of behaviour, allowing themselves to be bedded by half the women in Hollywood, but regular boys can't. You kept your virginity for your husband to take on your wedding night, Bri. I wish Jermaine had done the same. I'm beginning to think he might be a nympho, but God I hope not. That's not something they'll do anything about at the Institute, unfortunately." There it was; another reference to this mysterious Institute. Intrigued, and grateful for the distraction, Brian decided to see if he could find out more without revealing his own ignorance. "Yeah," he said. "Why do you think that is?" "Well, I suppose it's logical enough really, when you think about it," said Frank. "It may be called the Institute of Mental Hygeine, but everyone knows what they do there is deal with gender identity issues, sorting out those who have problems with their role in society. And I suppose that's a good thing. After all, where would we be if men started acting like women and women like men. No, we need the Institute to bring the deviants back into line." "I guess we do," said Brian, suppressing a shiver. The two men spent the next hour or so gossipping and engaging in 'boy talk' - discussing hair, clothes, make-up, and women - and Brian found it both pleasant and surprisingly interesting. He did not miss the heated discussions of politics and sports he guessed were 'women talk' on this world, not even slightly. However, as they talked, Brian gradually became aware of a strange feeling in his breasts. His nipples were getting sore, and his bra was feeling increasingly tight. About the same time Frank noticed his friend's discomfit, his baby daughter began to cry. "Looks like it's time," he smiled. "Time?" said Brian, puzzled. "For you to feed Miriam," said Frank, shaking his head in exasperation. "Honestly, Bri, it's like you've been on another planet the past couple of days." He passed his baby over to Brian. "You were the first besides me to suckle the twins and I want you to be the first with Miriam, too." "I'd be honored," said Brian, belatedly realizing that what he was experiencing was lactation and that this was the correct response. This was one of those ways in which the men of this world strengthened and deepened the bonds of friendship and one of the things he was specifically tasked with investigating. Unbuttoning his silk blouse, he unhooked his bra (ah, of course - this was why bras on this world all hooked from the front) and lifted Miriam up to his exposed left breast, hoping Frank couldn't see how strange this all was to him. As soon as her mouth found the nipple, the baby began to feed. Brian had heard women on his world talking about breast feeding, about how they either hated it or loved it, but nothing could have prepared him for his own reaction to the experience. Looking down at that precious infant suckling at his breast, noticing how her dark skin contrasted with the pale flesh of his mammary he felt a communion with her, a powerful almost spiritual experience that was emotionally overwhelming. He felt awe and wonder and a sudden fierce protectiveness towards Miriam that he recognised as maternal. Knowing this was probably the result of a suckling child triggering responses hard-wired into the brains of the men of this world did not make the experience any less profound. If Miriam had wanted to feed at his breast for the rest of the day, Brian would have happily let her do so until she had sucked him dry. "Ah, I've seen that look before," smiled Frank. "When you have babies of your own, they won't want for anything." Babies of his own. When he first learned it was men who bore the children here it had made him feel queasy so the idea of having babies of his own should horrify him, yet it didn't. Perhaps the child at his breast had hypnotized him, perhaps not, but the idea did not seem horrifying at all. When Cara came to pick him up two hours later all Brian's anger towards her had faded. Instead, he put his arms around her neck, stood on tip- toe, and kissed her. "What was that for?" she said, puzzled but pleased, eyes searching his face for an answer. "Just because," smiled Brian, turning and heading for their car. On their journey home, Brian found himself studying people on the street. He saw one young man with a particularly impressive bust enduring wolf- whistles and coarse comments from a bunch of construction workers. The young man frowned his disapproval as convention demanded, but as soon as his back was to the women he smiled and continued happily on his way, high heels tapping on the sidewalk. The there were the young couples on the street. The women were all tall and handsome, most wearing T-shirts showing off gym-enlarged biceps, while their wives and boyfriends were slim and pretty in their summer dresses and high heels. Every one of them looked happy, and were clearly in love with their partners. Was he viewing this world through rose-tinted spectacles, he wondered, or were the people here really happier than they seemed to be on his Earth? Did rigid gender roles that everyone accepted lead to greater contentment? It was a puzzle. "Penny for your thoughts?" said Cara. "I was just thinking about happiness," said Brian, "and by the way, I surrender." "Huh?" "There's something about this world I'm missing - you said as much. So tell me. I really need to know." "The language," said Cara, softly. "I still don't get it." "I'm not surprised," smiled Cara, "though the old you would've figured it out by now. It's the language and it's the names. People in this America speak a recognizable version of English, use the same names we do, and live in cities with the same names. If they really had started out as different from us as they are now, their languages, customs and names should have also been radically different." Now that Cara had pointed it out, it all seemed so obvious. "But what does it mean?" "It means that this is a changed world," said Cara. "A 'changed world'? What's that?" "A world that was once like most of the other Earths we've discovered, with only the usual slight variations. Then someone or something came along and changed it into what you see now. We've encountered several." She paused briefly, her attention diverted by the need to negotiate a tricky junction. "This Earth was discovered a year ago," she said, continuing her explanation. "The transformation may have occurred not much earlier than that. We've only so far seen one case of planetary transformation of an Earth we'd already discovered and that was awesome. It's inhabitants called it 'the Genderwave', a wall of energy that swept around their planet and changed the gender of every last one of them. We'd love to have a record of the event, but during the twenty-four hours it was occurring the NESS orbiting that Earth abruptly stopped transmitting telemetry back to Earth Zero, only coming back online once the event was over. So we have no more idea what caused it than the natives do." "Wait, you're saying that all the history of this world you told me about, all those old cultural traditions, are recent inventions?" "Yep. Those who experienced the Genderwave remember what their world used to be like; those on this Earth believe it has always been this way." "What could cause such an enormous change to occur?" asked Brian, awed by the whole idea of such planet-wide transformations. "I wish I knew," said Cara. "Could be a natural phenomenon, I suppose, or aliens, or maybe even magic." "Magic?" said Brian, dubiously, "aren't you a little old to believe in magic?" "Don't be so quick to scoff. Many Worlds Inc used to scoff, too, until one of our agents was magically transformed from a hulking forty year-old guy into a three year old little girl." "You have to be joking." "No, I'm not. He fell foul of a mystic medallion, an ugly looking thing we'd heard rumors of on several Earths, though it seemed to function slightly differently on each. We even managed to get ahold of one and bring it back to Earth Zero. Unfortunately, they only seem to work on their world of origin. On our world it was just a tacky piece of jewellery. It was taken back to it's own Earth for study and once there it again functioned as it was supposed to. Only somehow the team studying it managed to lose it. They swore they took all the necessary precautions to keep it safe, but clearly they can't have." "Does the medallion exist on this Earth?" asked Brian. "We don't know," said Cara, "but there is one thing about this Earth