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Hi everyone, This story is a little different to my other ones in that it's not overtly sexual. It has more of an autobiographical feel to it - the story came out fully formed in one session when I was going through a bad patch. The main character Tim is obviously based on myself and how I felt in school. Other situations are based on parts of the Matrix movie, how I would like technology to progress, and also how I would have liked to have changed some of the decisions I made back when I was a teenager. I never had my hand forced like Tim does, and I'm still living his old life and trying to blend in. Yes, it does suck. I hope this story makes sense to some of you - even though it was written purely for myself, I've decided to share it in the hope it strikes a chord with some of you lovely Fictionmania readers. It is set in the UK in the near future and assumes some advances in technology which I feel are hopefully pretty reasonable. I would like to think this kind of scenario would be possible in fifty years or so. If you read the story and find it just confuses you, then I apologise in advance for wasting your time. Love and hugs, Nina x ------------------------ As Tim Harrison ran round the corner, he could see the school gate in the distance, the large wrought iron "St. Paul's School for Boys" banner across the top. He checked his watch as he sprinted for the gate - not too bad a time for the five-mile run, but not his best time. He ran through the gate and stopped, red-faced, his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. Wednesday afternoons were for sport, and cross-country running was about the only thing he could do well. It kept the rougher sporty boys off his back - they tended to pick more on the geeky kids who didn't do any sports well. All through life Tim had learned to blend in, to act the part. He was getting so good at it that he didn't notice he was doing it most of the time. He remembered feeling so out of place when he had first come to St. Paul's four and a half years ago - had it really been that long? His sixteenth birthday was in a week's time, and after that it would be time to really start revising for his exams. He walked slowly through the school grounds towards the changing rooms, breathing heavily and finally starting to feel the sweaty dampness of the shirt and shorts he was wearing. In the distance he could see the playing fields, full of rugby players enjoying their games. He remembered with pain his first few years at school when rugby had been compulsory for all boys, he had hated every minute of it. His memories of the game seemed to consist solely of running as fast as he could whenever he caught the ball - he had earned the grudging respect of the larger boys as he was hard to catch, but they always seemed to manage it, tackling him with a bone-crunching slam time after time. Tim shook his head faintly at the memory. A whistle sounded in the distance followed by a faint cheer, and the rugby players started to jog off the field. Tim was on edge, they would be heading toward the changing rooms too and he didn't enjoy mixing with them. He walked as briskly as he could across the courtyard, but he still heard the loud voices of the rugby players coming up behind him. A large hand clapped him on the shoulder. "Harrison! Still running around I see? Why not play a man's game like the rest of us, eh!" It was the unmistakeable voice of John Mason, one of the largest boys in the year who had bullied Tim a little in the first few years of school. With the practised skill of a seasoned actor, Tim roughened his accent a little, and made his voice lower and louder than normal. "Hi Mason," he replied, "ah, you know you guys can catch me all the time, so what's the point!" Mason and the five boys surrounding him laughed at this. "Too true, Harrison - you got the speed but you don't have the skill to be a good winger!" Tim smiled falsely, hoping it would be believable. Mason and his cronies didn't seem to notice, and ran on into the changing rooms laughing. Tim breathed a sigh of relief - thank heaven that conversation had been quick. * * * As he strolled into the changing rooms, Tim could hear Mason's voice again. "...and don't let me catch you near my locker again, you hear?" Tim immediately felt the adrenalin rush through him. What was going on here? Just then Thomas Jansen rounded the corner. Thomas was one of the geeky kids that Tim sometimes hung around with; he was a nice enough guy but he always seemed to bring trouble on himself. Tim had never seen him even try to fit in, he was always just... well, just Thomas really. Sometimes Tim would just despair at Thomas, and yet at the same time Tim would be jealous of the way that Thomas could just be himself. It was something that Tim could never do, he could never show people what he was like inside. He kept everything hidden, it was the only way to survive, especially in a place like St. Paul's. Tim knew that life was just like this - it's the way it has always been, and it's the way it always will be. Having to act all the time is a small price to pay for being able to fit in, thought Tim, and fitting in was all he'd ever wanted out of life. The ironic thing was that by acting the part, by pretending to fit in everywhere, he actually didn't really feel like he fitted in anywhere at St. Paul's. At least he managed to stay out of trouble though. Thomas walked up to him and they exchanged a glance. Tim knew better than to try and tell Thomas how to behave. "You OK?" asked Tim, genuinely concerned. "Yes, I'll be fine, thank you. He's just an idiot, and people like that are not worth the bother." Tim smiled, and Thomas walked past. Tim still couldn't believe how Thomas could not be affected by it all. He wished he could be like that; to have that kind of confidence in yourself would be amazing, but Tim knew there was no hope of that for him. * * * The next day Tim ambled into school as usual. He entered his form's classroom and sat down in his usual seat, nodding hellos to various acquaintances. He had no real close friends, but that was obvious - how could he? In a place like this he had to act like he was one of the boys, there was no way he could let people know the real Tim. At that point the door opened and Elanor McArdle strode in. Mrs McArdle had been Tim's form tutor for two years and he had a good relationship with her. She was in her mid 40's, her wavy brown hair streaked with grey already - Tim always wondered why she didn't dye it, but she seemed happy with herself. She had taught Tim for English a few years earlier and they had first gotten on well in that class. After taking the register Mrs McArdle had some news. "As you know class", she started, "the school is taking delivery of the two immersive VR stations today. They have been kindly bought by the Alumni Fund and the school plans to use them in many different lessons, from Physical Education through to Humanities." At this Tim was interested. He'd heard of these before, and he was due to write an article on them for the school newspaper. He made a mental note to go and see them being installed in his lunch hour. * * * After wolfing down his packed lunch quickly, Tim strolled into the Information Technology block where the technicians had just finished installing the two VR stations. Each one was a reclining chair with a bucket-sized white cylinder on a sliding pole over the headrest. Mr Brindle, one of the I.T. teachers, was waiting in the room and greeted Tim as he arrived. "So Harrison, you've come to write the article for the paper?" "Yes Sir", replied Tim, "do you mind if I ask a few questions about them?" "Not at all, fire away!" "OK, so can you explain how they work and what they do?" Mr Brindle smiled. "Well, I could bore your readers with lots of technical detail, but the basic part you need to understand is this part here." At that, Mr Brindle patted one of the large white cylinders. "These are small superconducting magnets, used for the fast-response MRI scanners. What these do is scan your brain for electrical activity several hundred times per second, extracting out the signals you are sending to your muscles and other relevant information." Tim scribbled furiously as Brindle spoke, trying to keep up with the torrent of information. Tim chuckled to himself - if this *wasn't* the boring technical detail explanation, what on Earth *would* it be like! "This part here", continued Brindle with his hand on a small black ring around the top of the cylinder, "is the EM field projector. This can project miniature electric fields into the user's head, inducing currents in any nerves it needs to. It can cause you to see and feel anything you like!" Tim finished scribbling. "OK Sir, can you just tell me what we do with them and how we use them?" "Of course. The user sits in the seat and lowers the cylinder over their head. Then the computer starts up..." Brindle waved his hand at the two large desktop computers beside the stations. Fibre optic cables connected them to the two cylinders on the seats. "...and it substitutes virtual reality for the real one. It calculates everything you should be seeing and feeling in the virtual world, and feeds that into your nervous system so you think it is real. When you try to move or do anything, the system can read that from scanning your nerves, and it moves your virtual body around instead." Tim thought for a minute. "So do you look the same in the virtual world as in the real one?" Brindle smiled. "Oh, that *is* a good question Harrison! The answer is no, not exactly, but it's very close. The system scans the part of your brain responsible for self-image, and reconstructs what your body should look like from that. It's quite a simple process actually." A horrible sinking feeling spread through Tim. "So it shows you how you see yourself, rather than what you actually look like?" Brindle thought for a moment. "Well you could put it that way, yes - but they are pretty much the same thing, surely? After all, the system is not large enough to scan your actual body, but it doesn't need to! The brain keeps that information in a handy easy-to-read form, so the system just takes that." Tim tried to suppress the growing feeling of horror inside him. "So how many lessons will we use these for?" "Oh, the plan is to make extensive use of them! Physical Education loves the idea, they can train pupils in dangerous sports without getting hurt or tired. Drama wants to use them to do realistic period productions, geography want to do virtual tours of famous geological features like the Grand Canyon, the list is endless!" Tim's head was pounding at the realisation of it all. "Thank you Mr Brindle, I think I have enough to go on now." "Oh, are we finished already? That was very quick!" Always the actor, Tim smiled despite how he was feeling. "Your answers were very clear and succinct, Sir!" Without waiting to a reply, Tim turned and left. * * * Two days later, Tim had his first class where the VR stations were used. Just his luck, it was P.E. with Mason and his gang. The P.E. teacher, Mr Johnson, wanted to test out a rugby scrum training program, so everyone was assembled in the I.T. block. Mr Johnson asked for a volunteer and of course nearly everyone put their hands up. He eventually chose Mason and one other kid who played on the rugby team - no favouritism there, chuckled Tim to himself sarcastically as he rolled his eyes. Tim watched as Mason sat in the seat, and slid the white cylinder down to enclose his head. "OK", said Mr Johnson pressing a conspicuous red button, "this might feel a little weird..." Tim watched as the screen on the computer connected to Mason's cylinder flared into life. Diagnostic messages quickly scrolled up the screen: Constructing body model... done, 96.4% match Retrying... done, 98.2% match Retrying... done, 99.7% match Initializing world... Then the screen cleared and Mason's eyes closed. A picture came on the screen of Mason standing on a sunny green field, wearing the school rugby kit. However, it was not the Mason that Tim knew - he seemed taller and more muscular, and his skin seemed clearer and more tanned. Mason looked down at himself and laughed. "Wow!" came Mason's voice from a speaker beside the screen, "this feels amazing!" Soon the other boy had joined him, and before long they were practicing various moves and vicious tackles that would have resulted in serious injury in the real world. After half an hour, Mason seemed to be getting the hang of it and improving his technique, even though their real bodies lay lifeless in front of Tim. Soon it was time for the lesson to end. Mr Johnson pressed the red buttons on each station and the boys blinked their eyes, once more back in the real world. A plan was drawn up for who would use the machines at what time, and Tim realised his name was third on the list - he would be using it the day after tomorrow! Tim was torn apart inside. Part of him desperately needed to use the machine - he needed more than anything to be that person inside, to feel how he should, to feel right for once in his life. And yet there was no way he could do it here, in public, in school of all places! The machines were so new though that nobody had one in their homes, they were far too expensive. The school machines were all he had access to. Tim seemed lost in emotion. His world seemed to be falling apart, the world he'd carefully constructed for himself over the past four years. He needed more time to think, he just didn't know what to do. He stayed back after class and somehow managed to persuade Mr Johnson to move his name to the back of the list. He was OK for another month - that is, unless another class wanted him to use the machines. * * * Two months later, he had managed to avoid using the machines. He was, by his reckoning, the only one in the whole year not to have used them, and he might just be able to pull this off - revision for exams was in full swing, and the end of the school year was only two more months away. He was sitting on one of the benches beside the playing fields, alone with his thoughts as usual, munching on a sandwich. Maybe he could do it? Maybe he could actually reach the end of the summer term without having to use the VR machines. His fake constructed world had looked shaky, but it may just hold up. He was feeling happy and confident for once, when all of a sudden a group of hands clamped onto him roughly from behind. "Ah Harrison, there you are!" Mason, he knew it. Tim was dragged off the bench by six larger boys, Mason among them. "You've been avoiding those VR machines, Harrison! We've all noticed your pathetic excuses. Something wrong with a little sport training, eh? What are you afraid of?" Tim was being forcefully marched toward the I.T. block and the machines. He started to struggle violently, as hard as he could, but it was useless - he was clearly outnumbered. The struggling only made things worse as Mason increased his taunting. "Oh, Harrison doesn't want to use the machines it seems! What are you so scared of? Hehe, we'll make a man out of you!" With that comment, the true reality of the situation finally hit home and all the fight went out of Tim. He went limp and they lifted him easily, dragging him across the packed courtyard. As they entered the I.T. block (with stolen keys, Tim noticed), tears started rolling down his cheeks. Not like this! He needed more time - or did he? Wasn't this all inevitable anyway? Now that the VR machines were here, it was bound to happen at some time. He pondered the precarious house of cards that his fake life had become. Something had to give eventually, but he'd hoped to be in control of it when it finally happened. As the boys dumped him into the chair, Tim spoke again. "OK Mason, you'll get your wish - we'll both get to see what we've wanted to see for so long." Mason looked confused. "What? You want to use these machines after all?" "Yes - it's complicated, but you'll see soon enough. I just have one thing to ask of you." Mason still looked confused - it wasn't meant to go like this. Something was wrong. The other boys sensed it too. "What's that?" Mason asked hesitantly. "OK, once I'm in, go and get Mrs McArdle. I won't get you in trouble, don't worry - I'll say I sneaked in here myself. You just say you found me using the machines, OK? But once I'm in, get McArdle. OK? You got that? I'll need her here. Like I said, you'll see what I mean soon enough." Mason and the boys looked uncomfortable. Mason was used to being the one giving the orders, and this had unsettled him a little. "So you'll take the fall for this one? Huh, okay man, whatever you say. Hey Jones, go get McArdle but give us five minutes, OK?" With that one of the boys nodded and left the room. Tim felt OK - Mrs McArdle was on her way, she'd know what to do. He couldn't go through this alone, and bizarrely she was the closest thing to a real friend that he had here at St. Paul's. "Come on then", sighed Tim, "let's get this over and done with." Mason slid the scanner cylinder down over Tim's head. He couldn't see much of anything, it was a little claustrophobic especially as the guys were still holding him tightly in the seat. Mason pressed the red button, and the computer screen lit up: Warning W701: no program loaded, using construct program instead Constructing body model... done, 12.2% match Warning W209: mismatch detected, rescan of self-image areas needed Scan queued, powering up HR-3 high resolution scanner... online Mason looked worried. "This is taking too long, what's going on? What are all these stupid messages? Something's not right with Harrison..." Tim laughed sadly, the sound a metallic echo in the enclosed cylinder. "Wait and watch, it'll work it all out eventually. Give the poor machine some time, for heaven's sake - you don't have any idea what it's trying to do." The screen continued: HR-3: Rescanning at higher resolution... complete Constructing body model... done, 54.7% match Warning W208: low match rate detected, recoverable Computing model difference vectors... done Mason was now getting even more uneasy. "Man, it's not working! Geez look at these warning messages, they're not even in English! We've broken it, we'll be in so much trouble!" Tim sighed. "Mason, just calm down. Watch the screen." The screen continued scrolling as the computer calculated furiously, using pieces of code not needed at St. Paul's until now: Constructing body model... done, 69.2% match Retrying... done, 86.8% match Retrying... done, 95.2% match Retrying... done, 98.7% match Retrying... done, 99.1% match Initializing world... Tim blacked out. * * * Strange but familiar feelings washed over Tim. His body simultaneously felt completely alien and more right than anything he had ever experienced. He flicked his eyes open, noticing his eyelashes felt heavier. White light - the construct program. Mason had forgot to load anything in particular so he was in the default loading area of the VR machine. He looked around to see a full-length antique mirror on a stand, and a flat screen television that was showing the video and audio from a small camera mounted on top of the VR machine. He could see his lifeless body back in the real world, and the group of guys staring slack-jawed at the image on their screen. He smiled to himself - this would be quite a surprise for them! Tentatively, he looked down at himself; he already knew what he would see, but not how he would look. The first thing he saw was some shiny lilac satin pulled tightly over his C-cup breasts. He seemed to be wearing a strapless dress of some sort. He had to examine himself in the mirror - he went to stand and was not too surprised to find he was wearing heels. He stood and walked over to the mirror, his heels clicking on the hard whiteness of the simulated construct floor. When he saw himself, he started to cry again. Staring back at him was... well, himself. The image he'd always expected to see in the mirror since he was a small child. The image that had grown up with him and that he could never share with anyone else. He'd always been surprised in the real world to see "someone else" in the mirror - the reflected image of his male body never felt like it was himself, even after fifteen years. However, to finally see his true self for the first time was more of a shock than anything. Tears ran down his cheeks, the computer simulating the damp feeling exactly and yet being kind enough not to let his makeup run. He was wearing a lilac satin prom dress similar to the one his older sister had worn two years ago. He remembered being so jealous of her going to that prom, and realising he would never go like that - so it was not surprising that the machine had reconstructed this for him. He had tried to cope with the jealousy by denying he felt that way, but the computer knew what he really felt; it could literally read his mind, even if it needed to struggle to do it. His hair was thick and wavy, running in jet-black shiny curls down over his shoulders, the ends tickling the middle of his shoulder blades. He looked smaller, thinner and far less hairy - he marvelled at the smooth softness of his arms, running his slim fingers over his new skin. He was even wearing lilac nail polish that matched his dress and eye shadow. He must have been admiring himself for a long time because he suddenly heard noises from the flat screen behind him. He turned to look at it, his long dress flaring out as he spun. Mrs McArdle had seen the screen and was busy moving the stunned boys out of the room. She locked the door behind her and came over to the screen, looking right into the camera at him. "It's OK, everything will be fine. I'm coming in to join you, stay there." Tim chuckled, he didn't know how to get out, so he didn't really have much choice. He noticed that his laugh was pitched a lot higher than his usual voice, which didn't seem surprising given everything else. Suddenly, a figure appeared next to him. It was Elanor McArdle alright, but she looked twenty years younger and wore an outfit that would have been in fashion in the late 1980's. She looked to be only a few years older than Tim. She saw him staring and giggled. "You of all people should know that the machine shows you as you see yourself! I guess I still think of myself as being 21 years old, no matter how old I get." Tim laughed, the humour a welcome relief from the tears streaming down his cheeks. Elanor looked at him. "Wow, I guess you're feeling a little confused right now..." Tim nodded silently, sniffling back the tears. "Oh you poor thing, you need a hug", she said. "Come here Lucy, it'll be OK, I promise." Tim gasped - Mrs McArdle had called him Lucy, the name that his parents would have given him if he'd been born a girl. How did she remember that conversation? He had idly mentioned it during an English class last year sometime, and he honestly didn't expect her to remember. He broke down and cried, hugging the taller lady and sobbing loud feminine tears into her shoulder. Elanor stroked Tim's hair gently as he cried. After a few minutes, Tim managed to hold in the crying a little. He was sobbing gently, and looked up at Elanor. "Mrs...." he started to say, but his voice was so high and feminine and perfect, that he hugged her and cried a little more. "Ssssh, there there, it's OK," comforted Elanor, stroking his hair again. "Get used to your voice, it will be a little different in here but that is to be expected." Tim tried again, staring up at her. "Mrs McArdle, thank you so much for being so lovely to me!" He still couldn't get used to his voice - it sounded how he'd always imagined it should and the feeling was overwhelming. "Oh don't be silly," she chided gently, "it's not a problem!" Tim thought for a moment. "You knew, didn't you?" Elanor smiled. "No, I didn't know, but I suspected. You can never tell for certain, but you stood out as one of the rare ones that could be... well, could be like this. When you avoided using the machines I pretty much knew. I was waiting for this to happen, I'm so sorry I didn't get here sooner. You shouldn't have had your first experience like this, and I'm annoyed that your secret has been outed in this way." Tim sniffled quietly, nodding in silent agreement at the things she was saying. She had summed up his feelings exactly! "Rare, you said? How rare am I?" "You're the only one I know of in the whole school, and there are over 500 boys here. In my experience of teaching boys that's about the right ratio, but like I said you could never be really sure until now." Tim hugged her tightly, a thousand thoughts flowing through his mind. "Mrs McArdle..." "Please," she said, "call me Elanor!" Tim smiled. "Elanor, everything is different now. Everyone will know - Mason will make sure of that. I can't use the machines, can I? What will happen? What will..." Elanor interrupted him. "Lucy, Lucy! Calm down, I told you everything will be OK. First of all, yes, people will know. We can't expect to keep this a secret, as you said. However, the school does not tolerate bullying and we will keep an eye out for you especially, now that we know." Tim thought. "But the machines! My classes!" "Your classes will be fine. You will be given an exemption for the male Physical Ed training if you really can't handle it, but you can continue if you like. You also have the option of taking some of the female programs with one of the female teachers, if you would prefer. After all, the machine came bundled with the girls programs as well as the boys ones - we had to take them all even though we're a boys school! I could get Mr Brindle to load them for you if you like. I know there have been genetically male pupils at other schools who have successfully passed their P.E. qualifications with a female VR result, so it won't affect your marks." Tim was silent again - he had so much to think about. "Don't worry," said Elanor, "you don't have to make a decision right now! Take all the time you like, but I'm sure we can find a Phys Ed program you'll be happy with. As for your other VR classes, there's no reason you can't do those as a girl! In fact it will probably improve your chances in Drama. I know they are planning to do 'Romeo and Juliet' in VR next year, and you would stand a good chance if you audition for Juliet. Landing a main role would improve your marks, and after all, you've not really got much competition at St. Paul's!" Tim giggled and hugged Elanor again. Maybe she was right - maybe this could work out OK? Tim was imagining a world where he didn't have to act, where he could be himself; maybe he could flourish in VR! "But for now," she continued, "we'll have to go back to the real world, lunch hour is nearly over. Please pop by and see me after school, we can chat about what this all means and sort everything out." "Thank you Elanor, I don't know what I'd have done without you!" "No, thank *you* Lucy, for trusting me and asking for me in the first place. I feel honoured that I could be there for you as you discover yourself!" Tim smiled. He was apprehensive but quietly confident about the future. It would be a lot of work, but then again it is a lot of work for everyone else, so why should he be any different? Suddenly, Tim was sitting in the chair again; Elanor had obviously brought them out of the simulation somehow. Tim slid the cylinder up off his head and looked down at himself. He was back - back in his old body. He looked over at Elanor sitting in the other chair, her greying hair a stark contrast to the lively twenty-one year old he'd been chatting to a moment earlier. Elanor saw all this and laughed. "The real world sucks, eh?" Tim smiled. "Certainly..." He had tried to speak the same way as when he was a girl in VR, and it had come out sounding all wrong. He coughed and pitched his voice lower. "Certainly does, unfortunately." Elanor smiled. "Don't worry Tim. Remember, just because you're Lucy in there doesn't make you a freak or weird, it just makes you different. St. Paul's may be a boys' school but I'm sure we can cope with a female VR pupil, it'll be fine! I'll make sure the headmaster knows so we can sort out the paperwork for any VR results we need to submit to the exam boards. Now get going, and come see me after school!" "Yes ma'am!" * * * One year later... A crowd had gathered in the school's main hall to watch the girls' final of the national schools VR athletics competition on the big screen. Tim and Thomas waved goodbye to everyone in the hall and walked over to the I.T. block where Elanor McArdle and Mr Brindle were waiting for them. Mr Brindle spoke first. "I've got the high-bandwidth Internet connection up, you're ready to be linked into the finals. Good luck!" Tim smiled and sat down in his seat. Thomas sat down in the other seat and winked at him. "Now remember Tim," said Elanor, "concentrate on your routine like we practised, and don't let the crowd put you off. There'll be a lot of people in for the final, so be calm and you'll be fine!" "I will," said Tim, "trust me!" Elanor smiled. "Good girl!" Mr Brindle nodded and pressed a button. Tim blacked out, and the green data transmission lights started flickering furiously. * * * Lucy quickly came to in the big VR athletics stadium where the finals were being held. Her hair was held back in a ponytail and she was wearing a dark blue lycra leotard with the "Saint Paul's Boys School" logo written incongruously across her breasts. Thomas always laughed at the irony of that, and Lucy liked it when he laughed. Thomas was standing next to her - taller, better built and without glasses, but definitely Thomas. He'd been her closest friend and ally throughout her long battle to the finals, and Lucy thought he was developing feelings for her. It was difficult to do anything about it though, as they could only be together like this in VR, and the school monitored everything so there was no privacy. Thomas gave her a big hug. "Now remember Lucy, you got all the way to the finals so you can do this! You just need to believe in yourself. Remember I'll be here for you all the way!" Lucy smiled. "Thank you Thomas! I do appreciate your support. Thank you so much for coming here with me!" Just then a loud voice came over the stadium's public address system. "Next up in the 16 to 18 year old parallel bars category - Lucy Harrison of Saint Paul's Boys School!" In the real world, a big cheer rose up from the crowd in the main hall. In VR, Lucy had just finished chalking her hands when Thomas took his first big chance - he leant forward and kissed Lucy fully on the lips. She looked surprised, but then closed her eyes and kissed back. Breaking the kiss, she winked at Thomas. "I was wondering how long it would take you!" Giggling quietly, Lucy skipped over to the parallel bars with a big smile on her face and waited for the judge to give the signal to start. She had a feeling this would be a good routine...