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REASSIGNMENT By Ingrid Halb Reassignment Case file 2107-6306-G Subject: Candace (Ethan Kaine) Classification: FOUO/Sensitive Start Run: Yes it was possible for a tired 47-year old man to continue to be a productive member of society, but Ethan Kaine had chosen an increasingly obsolescent career path. His line of work was rapidly being automated with new AI software. But after 22 years of federal service Ethan was of the firm belief that the system worked and that the Government would take care of its loyal servants. So he chose to disregard the slashing of the research project and the rising tide of more and more autonomous AI programs to handle more and more of his job. Five years ago, his latest supervisor tried to warn him. "Ethan," he said, "get out while you can and get yourself a voluntary reassignment. Or next thing you know you're on your way to the colonies." "Oh c'mon," Ethan would usually reply. "They're always going to need someone to supervise these programs. They don't watch themselves you know." Three years later the supervisor took voluntary reassignment and was gone. Two years after that, Ethan was still there. So, he had been warned. But in his defense it would be tough to find a better job than his current position. Government housing with work at home privileges, business class healthcare, retirement support, and all the holidays and scheduled pay advances that come with working in the civil service made this a comfortable life. And comfort makes it easy not to worry too much about the future. In reality, Ethan was afraid to change careers. Sure he fantasized about making a big leap for a flashy new job with excitement and sex- appeal, but for those jobs he would be competing with guys less than half his age. No, civil service was it, boring but safe with a nice predictable career path. That was, until this morning when he tried to log onto his home workstation and found a flagged message on the desktop instead. 'Remote terminal access denied. Digital ID signature indicates you are occupying a redundant employment position and/or one deemed slated for automation. You have seven days to report to your local Government Assignments Department office for reassignment evaluation. If you believe this message to be in error contact the Help Desk at your nearest Reassignments Center at your earliest convenience. Send receipt/acknowledge (Y/N)?' All the blood seemed to rush out of his head and his field of vision shrank till all he saw was the message board. Maybe if he did not reply or just turned the system off he could pretend he never got the message. But of course they already knew. They always know. Information flowed too easy for that. In one week's time someone would come around asking why he had not reported. And they would not ask nicely either. Underground was always an option. Live outside the system, hacking in every now and then for supplies and entertainment. But who was he kidding, really? He would report. Ethan always followed the rules and went along with the system. It was in his nature and all he knew even if the system was landing square on top of him. Reassignment... Involuntary reassignment... Funny thing was that he had voted for it. Not directly, of course, but it was the campaign issue three elections ago. End unemployment and welfare. Expand the human race to new frontiers. No more useless duplication of work as a person is found to fill every needed job, even if we have to alter that person to fit the job. A shudder ran through him thinking of that. No reason to dwell on genetic transformation though. There were plenty of jobs needing a skilled program oversight developer. Besides, he had an engineering degree. They needed him. They needed him in spite of that damned 'redundant' message. It had to be a mistake. He just needed to go talk to someone at the help desk and he had seven days to do it. Three of his seven days he spent gloriously drunk. Another day was spent nursing a hangover and generally feeling sorry for himself. He did check in early, though. Figuring they did not need an excuse to mess him up, he reported at the check-in station two days early. "Name please." "Ethan Kaine," he said slipping his ident card through the reader. "One moment please," she answered, obviously bored and probably overpaid for the human interaction role she was performing. "Yes, Mr. Kaine," she finally responded. "You are scheduled for career reassignment. Your new ident card will be issued when you check into Reassignment Section Intro Interviews. Follow the green line to the left, thank you." "Excuse me," Ethan said, kind of perturbed when his ident card wasn't returned. "I think there may have been some kind of mistake. I do have a computer engineering degree." "I wouldn't know about that, sir," she replied dully. "Central registry doesn't make mistakes. They'll be able to clear everything up at Reassignments." "Thanks," he said snippily. Clearly he was not going to get any clarification here. The kind of people they hired for these help desks were limited at best. He was going to need some sort of management help to rectify this. But management was not at Reassignments either. What was there was another clerk at another help desk. "I'm afraid I can't help you until you create a new ident card by filling out the Reassignment questionnaire and preference form." "I understand that," he said rapidly reaching an over quota of frustration. He had trouble believing these people had jobs while he was declared redundant. "I just need to speak to someone in charge. Your manager, or supervisor, or someone. You see, I just think that there has been some sort of mistake and I'm sure we can clear this up quickly if you just let me talk to someone in charge." "I'm sorry, sir. But there's nothing I can do for you until you fill out the Reassignment questionnaire..." "...and preference form," he finished sarcastically. "Thank you so much for all you do." He snatched the temporary ident card from the attendant and stormed off to a terminal at the far end of the room. This whole thing was ridiculous. Sure he worked for the government too, but he performed a valuable service. This guy was just a button pushing bureaucrat. Ethan was still muttering under his breath as the terminal hummed into life. The questionnaire itself was very straightforward and most of it was auto filled from the Government databases. The preference form was much more interactive. A lot of it was asking for his likes and dislikes. Some of the questions were pretty weird. Questions like 'Which of these trees are you more likely to draw?' or 'How many close friends do you have now compared to when you were a child?' It was pretty detailed and took most of an hour to fill in. Towards the end it asked about career preferences. He still thought this was all a misunderstanding, but did not want to jinx any chances of clearing this up. So he carefully chose 'Civil Service' as his first selection. After that, he just got silly. The whole situation was preposterous and he chuckled to himself as he checked off 'Actor/Entertainer'. Let's see them find me a job as a movie star, he thought. He was still chuckling when he hit send and the terminal accepted the input. He stopped chuckling when the terminal spat out his new ident card. He had expected a standard card with name across the top and career field on the back. What he got was superficially similar in that it was the right shape with all the usual imbedded circuit chips, but it was bright orange. It had his name on top, but no picture, and instead of a career field all it said on the back was 'Pre-Assignment Medical/Physical Section'. "Excuse me," he asked the incredibly unhelpful clerk at the help desk, handing him the new ident card. "What sort of job is this supposed to be?" "Oh," the clerk said, a little too serious for Ethan's liking. "That's not a job. That just means you need to report to the Pre-Assignment Medical/Physical Section before they can issue you a new career." "First off, I don't want a new career. I want my old career back," Ethan demanded. "And secondly, why do I need some medical section to get a new job? Isn't that what you're supposed to do here?" "Normally, yes," the clerk admitted. "They just want to make sure you're physically suitable for your new career and medically capable of handling any changes." "Changes? What do you mean 'changes'?" he demanded. "You mean 'genetic changes' don't you!" The clerk realized he had made a mistake. "Oh I wouldn't worry about that, Sir," he answered in a faux cheerful voice, probably meant to reassure, but only worried Ethan further. "Very, very few people who come through the Reassignment section ever need any physical changes." "Really?" Ethan asked. "And how many of these 'very, very few' people got orange ident cards?" "Um..." he stammered. "I... I don't know, Sir." "Look, just give me a new ident card and I'll straighten this out with your supervisor." "I... I can't do that, Sir. Only Medical/Physical can issue you a new ident card now." "Then give me my old card back." "I can't do that either, Sir. It doesn't exist anymore. That Pre- Assignment card is the only one in the system now." Ethan wanted to shove the card down clerk's throat and rip his limbs off one by one. Then he wanted to feed the pieces into the card reader until it spat out a proper ident card. What he wound up doing was grit his teeth, snatch back his orange ident card and storm right out of the Government Assignment Office and head for home. This was still a free country and nobody could force him back there. The trouble with a free country is that almost nothing in it is free. Food, drink, public transportation, access to your credit line, all cost something. Not much mind you. A swipe of your card and you barely notice it until the monthly bill. You do notice it though when you have a bright orange ident card that does not accept charges. It was a long walk home, a long, hot, dusty walk home. And the relief he felt as he finally reached his front door was almost enough to put him in a good mood. That was until he found out the orange ident card also did not open the front door. All it did do was to generate a holo message that read 'The contents of this dwelling have been placed under protective seal pending career assignment of registered occupant'. Pounding on the door did not help. Neither did kicking it or sitting in front of it for two hours. In the end, all he could do was walk back to the Reassignments Center and check into the Pre-Assignment Medical/Physical Section. Things were a bit anticlimactic. The clerk there seemed to be better informed and assured him that mostly they just eliminated careers that the person was unsuitable for. Changing people to fit jobs was a miniscule part of their routine. That was reassuring, but of more immediate interest was the fact that they had a cafeteria, a really big cafeteria and his ident card worked there. More of a restaurant really, in that a waitress took your order. His was a sweet young thing with a short mop of auburn hair and looked maybe nineteen years old. She was on the skinny side and a bit flat-chested, but she had these long legs that were well displayed by her short skirt and high heeled boots. It did not seem that she had been working there very long. She was clumsy taking his order and never made eye contact. But she was cute and after wolfing down his meal Ethan tried to strike up a conversation. "Excuse me," he said touching her hand as she reached to take my empty dishes away. "Yes?" she asked pensively after flinching at his touch. "I'm sorry. I'm not usually so forward. My name's Ethan." She stared like a deer in the headlights. "What's yours?" he asked. "M... Melissa," she stammered. "Melissa. That's a pretty name. And you're the prettiest thing I've seen since I got here." She looked nervously around and he decided not to push too hard at this time. "Maybe I'll see you around," he finished. "Y... Yes sir," she replied before rushing back to the kitchen area. That definitely could have gone better, Ethan thought. The rest of the staff was much more approachable. This one blonde girl named Angie was a lot more approachable. She might have been dressed like Melissa, but she was a whole lot curvier and a heck of a lot friendlier. "You're a Good Time Girl!" Ethan said putting two and two together. "You got it, Sugar!" she answered silkily. "I'm going to be, anyway. Right now I'm just a trainee learning my way." "So how about training a little with me tonight?" he offered. "Oh, sorry Hon. I get a few for showing you around but they can't figure the creds until you get yourself an assignment." She seemed genuinely disappointed but that did little to clarify Ethan's confusion. "Creds?" he asked. "Credits. Company money." Ethan showed no comprehension. "It's what they pay us in and what your card works on now," she explained. "No one uses real money here." "No money?" "Uh huh." "Just creds." "Yup." "And we can't have sex, why?" "Cause they can't figure out how many creds it would cost, silly." "But when I get an assignment..." "You just give ole' Angie a call Hon', until then..." She reached up and gave him a deep passionate kiss. "That was on the house." Ethan was dazed for awhile and by the time he had recovered Angie had already turned to go. "Wait!" he shouted after her. "The other staff, the waitresses in the cafeteria... Are they Good Time Girls, too?" "Sure, Hon. That's where we first step out and learn to be nice and sweet and grow to look like this." She smiled, cocking a hip and gesturing to her body with both hands. "So, when I'm assigned, I could get them to sleep with me?" he asked, his mind churning with images of Melissa. She smiled wryly before answering. "Maybe, Hon'," she shrugged. "They're just a little shy when they're new. But you never know." She was still smiling as she strutted away flaunting her backside. So Melissa was a Good Time Girl. Or was going to be one, anyway. He never would have guessed it consciously but something had put the thought into his head. She was cute. Not 'bombshell' cute, but cute none the less. More of a waif, really. Angie was closer but none of the waitresses exactly had that heart-stopping sultry look that one associates with Good Time Girls. Then it struck him where he was. These girls were being enhanced to be Good Time Girls! Each of them was going to grow sexier and sexier over time. The idea was erotic. The thought of Melissa going through this transformation piqued his libido and he vowed to get closer to her. In the meantime it had been a long and stressful day and he was tired, so he sought out his assigned room which turned out to be utilitarian. There was a double bed, a closet, a chest of drawers, a secure internet access terminal with card reader, a mirror, a small bathroom area. Home? Not if he could do anything about it. But sleep came first and it came fast as Ethan drifted off while planning his escape. He woke the next morning feeling incredibly refreshed. At least the beds were comfortable. And the shower felt good. The annoying part was that everything seemed to cost something. He was being charged for toilet paper, toothpaste, shower water, everything. It irritated him that there were charges in what felt like a prison. They even placed restrictions on what he could buy. For clothes he could only buy either a plain white track suit or disposable bathrobes. Given that as is option, he spent the next few days exploring the Center while wearing a white track suit. Overall, the Center was a curious place. Some places were off limits, but nobody made him do anything. Nobody listened to his complaints either, except to tell him that there was nothing they could do until he had undergone his physical. Subsequently, he hung out at the cafeteria a lot. His attention was drawn to the waitresses. They ran the gamut of skin tones and hair color and varied in height, but never in a freakish way. Many seemed nervous or clumsy. Some were more self-assured and openly flirty. These comfortable ones were curvier and generally prettier, so he assumed they must be further along the process of becoming Good Time Girls. The thought of all of them slowly transforming into sexy playthings was erotic beyond belief. Melissa must have been a fairly new addition to their corps and the thought of her transforming was especially enticing to him. But no matter how he tried to chat her up, he could not get more than a few short polite words from her. It was frustrating. Here he was surrounded by the titillation of developing Good Time Girls and none of them would touch him until he got an assignment. All the while his protests were going unanswered. The staff was sympathetic but unhelpful and angry emails disappeared into the ether. Nobody was forcing him, but it was becoming apparent that he needed to get a career again before he would be noticed. And to do that, he had to undergo the physical. Registering for the physical was simple enough. He turned in his track suit for some slippers and a hospital gown. The physical itself took three days during which he was never given any other type of clothes to wear. It was kind of embarrassing, especially at meal times. Then again, he had seen people wearing hospital gowns at the cafeteria before and no one seemed to care. So, perhaps it was no big deal. He had hoped that Melissa would warm up to him once she saw that he was undergoing the physical, but she remained shy and distant. The physical took three days, but it was not one prolonged process. Each day had a distinctly different focus. Day one was spent mapping his body and Ethan had never been so thoroughly measured in his whole life. It was intrusive and exhausting. Day two on the other hand was more concerned with his physiology and what his metabolism did as he lifted weights and jumped or ran for great time lengths. It was exhausting, but he felt kind of pleased by his performance. Not bad shape for an old guy, he thought, feeling confident. Day three was the odd day out. Instead of measuring him physically and physiologically, they spent the day putting things into him. He was given foul liquids to drink and needles seemed to be injecting him every fifteen minutes. There was even an enema involved, although what they expected to learn from that he had no idea. The scariest part was when they stuck him in front of a whirring machine while they hid behind a protective barrier. Every few minutes they would shut the machine down and rearrange the protective padding on him before once again retreating behind the barrier. Day three was a short day but an exhausting one that left him feeling achy with a mild headache and a sore throat. Isn't that how it always goes, he thought. You feel fine, you go see a doctor, and then you start to feel sick. Maybe he was just reacting to something they gave him but whatever it was just left him feeling sicker and sicker. Even the thought of seeing Melissa again was not enough to make him feel like eating. Instead, he told the staff he was ill and went back to his room. They were sympathetic and told him they would have a nurse come check on him. Bed did not make him feel better as he continued to feel worse. Sweating and feverish, he drifted in and out of awareness. True to their word, a nurse did come in and check on him on a regular basis. They fed him and cleaned him and did the best they could to ease his suffering. It seemed that there would be no end to his misery, but gradually he began to recover. Eventually boredom overcame malaise and Ethan gathered himself up to venture out of his room only to find that there had been a couple of changes. His Ident card was still orange, but now instead of saying 'Pre-Assignment Medical/Physical Section' it read 'Assignments' with a time and date code for later on that same morning. The other change was to his clothes. The hospital gown he had been given to wear was now of a completely different style. Before it had been a standard sort of hospital gown; open in the back with three ties to hold it closed. Now there was only one tie located at the back of the neck. The lower part was a tube you had to step into before pulling the gown up. There was just a hint of sleeves now so that his shoulders were mostly exposed and the color was different. The old gown had been hospital green, while this one was a pale purple color. His slippers were replaced by a pair of hard soled sandals. They were comfortable enough, but he did not care for the clicking noise they made as he walked down the hall to the cafeteria. The cafeteria was pretty much as it had been before, except that this late in the morning there were plenty of empty tables. Ethan chose a seat in an area which he knew was Melissa's section. He may have been feeling a little weak, but he was still determined. Hopefully she was working this shift. Luck was with him as he saw her carrying out drinks to a group not four tables from where he sat. She still had that air of shyness and nervousness. One guy sitting at the table startled her by patting her on the ass, then letting his hand trail down the back of her nylon-clad leg. She nearly dropped the tray, but instead she gave the jerk a forced smile and continued to serve the drinks while letting him fondle her leg. She's learning her craft and trying to be a better Good Time Girl, Ethan thought. It was hypnotic. He imagined it was his hand caressing her leg, feeling the texture of her stockings. Would he be able to feel her changing? He pictured her as she would become. In his mind she would have long shiny hair, almost reaching a shapely ass. Her breasts would be large, maybe even huge. They would look like they were about to fall out of her shirt as she bent over to serve drinks like she was doing now. Her forced smile would slowly change and relax before becoming an expression of lust and longing. Comparing the frightened waif in front of him with his mental image of what she would become was incredibly arousing. Almost on cue Melissa looked up and saw Ethan. The forced smile was still on her lips as her eyes showed weary recognition. Surprise flashed across her face for a moment, followed by a visible sigh as tension left her body. A wide and friendly smile spread across her face as sauntered over to him. "Hi! It was Ethan, right?" she asked, seemingly very happy to see him. Ethan was distracted by her eyes. They sparkled. "Uh... yeah, I'm Ethan." Stupid, he thought. He already told her that. No, she already told him that. No, I... she already knows that. "You all finished with your labs?" she asked. Her question was not hard, but it left him flailing. His smoothness was gone. She had the initiative in this conversation. "Yeah, how did you know?" he said, trying to turn the momentum around. "Your clothes." She gestured to his outfit as she spoke. "Oh," was all Ethan could offer, nervously fiddling with the light purple fabric. "It hasn't changed a bit since I had my labs." "You came through Medical/Physical too?" She smiled and nodded yes. Stupid. He berated myself again. Of course she came through Medical/Physical. She was being enhanced to be a Good Time Girl. She smelled nice, too. "Does everyone wear this outfit?" Ethan asked, distracted by his slowly hardening erection. She was so close, she filled his mind. "No, silly! Just us!" She giggled as she touched his forearm. Her touch had been brief and suggested nothing more than overt friendliness, but to him it was electric with promise. Ethan chuckled along with her, not getting the joke. "Can I get you something?" she asked, leaning into him, resting her hand on his bare shoulder. There was that electricity again. Was she flirting with him? Ethan gave silent thanks that the table hid his growing excitement. "Um, no thanks. I haven't been very well lately." "Oh, man! Wasn't that the worst? I can't believe how sick I felt. But don't worry; it's not going to feel like that again." "Good," Ethan replied, confused as ever. How did she know he would not be sick again? "So how many girls are in your group? Cause you know we could really use the help around here." Ethan fought a losing struggle to make sense out of those statements. "My group?" "You know. How many were with you at Assignments?" "I... I haven't been to Assignments yet." "Oh, that's right!" She tapped herself lightly on the forehead. "You have to go to Education first. I get so bubble headed sometimes. Well anyway, welcome to the team!" With that she bent over and gave him a big hug. Her skin was soft and her hair smelled of lilacs. His mind was so muddled that she had already turned to leave before he could respond. "Melissa, wait! Will I see you again?" "Of course, silly. We'll be right here." With that she turned back to the kitchen, offering a fine view of her long legs and tight little ass. Wow, he thought, what was that? He guessed it was good. She spoke to him and she said she would see him again. She was friendly and seemed to like him. Wow. It was some time before he could stand without displaying his aroused state to the world. Ethan kept imagining what she would finally look like as a fully fledged Good Time Girl; long shining hair, full rack that would bounce slightly as she moved, narrow waist, and a round sexy ass. Wow, indeed. Eventually though, he did calm enough to stand without embarrassment and by then it was nearly time for his appointment with Assignments. He ambled along and with the directions from a few of the staff members he found himself in a large room with about four dozen other people. They were all seated in comfortable enough chairs that were grouped in fours and permanently mounted to small tables that were secured to the floor. The tables were scattered, but the chairs were biased to one side, so that everyone seated could pay attention to the front of the room. It reminded him of his old university classrooms. There were three other people seated at his table; a man dressed in a light blue track suit and a couple dressed in shiny silver unitards. Other people in the room were dressed in a diverse pattern of clothing, each of which still left the impression of being a uniform of some type. The most common set of clothes worn was a track suit, but they varied in color between the sets. He felt under dressed in his hospital gown, but the others at his table barely noticed. Plus there was at least one other person in the room wearing a similar outfit, so that went a ways towards easing his feeling of exposure. Eventually two large bored looking men entered the room and started talking quietly and generally ignoring those seated in the room. They had the look of security guards, which was enhanced by the stun batons slung on their hips. They were followed a short while later by a much smaller man dressed as a technician and carrying a cup of coffee. A few more stragglers trickled in and took their seats before the technician made his way to the podium and flipped some sort of switch. Apparently this was to be a recorded briefing, for the center of each table lit up with a holo display showing the logo of the Government Assignments Department, which hung in the air for a moment before being replaced by the image of a young smiling woman. "Good morning Citizens. And welcome to the first day of your new assignments! Each of you has passed the Medical/Physical section and you are now ready to begin your exciting new career. Your country thanks you for volunteering for productivity." Governmental crap. Who volunteered for this stuff? Not Ethan. And that fake cheery voice, where do they find these people? Probably at the Assignments Office, he thought smiling at his own joke. "If you will check the name side of your temporary identity card, you will find a six digit code ending in a letter. In a short while, we will be calling you up by this letter which also corresponds to the color of your trainee uniform. So please be patient and we will get to you shortly. Once again thank you and get ready for the rest of your lives! "When your letter and uniform get called, just come to the front of the room and we'll get you to your Assignment desk." This last was shouted disinterestedly and with rehearsed blurring of the words by the technician sipping coffee at the front of the room. "Now if you're all ready, let's start with the letter 'O' and this uniform," the disembodied voice of the recording continued while the holo image displayed the rotating shapes of a generic male and female wearing steel grey swim suits. Both suits were clingy with the male's version being a standard hips and crotch covering of moderate modesty. The female version was a one-piece backless cut high on the hip. Three people got up and padded barefoot to the front of the room. At first glance Ethan thought there were two women and one man, but he realized that in fact there were two men, one of which was wearing the female version of the swim suit. "There go the fish," commented the man at his table wearing the light blue track suit. This was greeted by glares from the couple wearing silver unitards. "Fish?" Ethan asked. "You know, squids," he answered. "Sea monkeys?" he offered keying in on Ethan's confusion. "You shouldn't call them that," the woman at their table chided while her partner gently tried to calm her down. "Whatever," blue track suit answered rolling his eyes. 'Sea monkeys' was a slang Ethan had heard before. It referred to the denizens of the sea colonies. Another term was 'Mermaids'. These were people transformed for life under water. This was pretty much a one- way trip as the gills did not allow for much travel in dry air. "Poor bastards," blue track suit muttered, referring to the trio in swim suits. "Especially that one, losing your lungs is one thing, but losing your balls is way over the top." This drew more glares from the silver unitard woman. Ethan kept quiet. "I mean, who would volunteer for that?" blue track suit asked gesturing at the man in the female swim suit. "No offense," he offered looking at Ethan. Ethan did not know how to respond to that. Lately it seemed that everyone knew what was going on but him. The three sea monkeys were ushered through an open hallway at the front and the holo image on the table changed to show the same generic man and woman now wearing silver unitards. "Let's continue with the letter 'S' and this uniform," the disembodied voice cheerfully announced. The couple at Ethan's table got up holding hands, exchanged excited smiles and almost bounced down to the front of the room. This whole thing was starting to remind him of the boarding procedures for air travel as about ten more people wearing silver unitards made their way to the front of the room. "Bye-bye, alfs," blue track suit offered sarcastically to the departing group. "Freaking volunteers. God I hate volunteers! You're not a volunteer, are you?" "Me? No. They got me on Involuntary Reassignment," Ethan replied. "That's a damn shame. Still, at least we're both staying human. Not like those freaks." Unlike the term 'fish', Ethan had heard the term 'alf' before. It referred to people altered to live in space or on planets with hostile environments. The term was no less offensive, but he was not about to dictate political correctness to his table mate. Especially since Ethan was just now realizing that he had dodged a bullet and avoided two of his biggest fears. "So they're not going to alter us?" Blue track suit gave him a funny look before answering. "You really are Involuntary," he said. Which was not an answer, nor was it a question. And so the conversation hung painfully vacant for a while. "Listen," blue track suit said sympathetically. "If we're here, they're going to make it so we fit our jobs." Ethan looked confused. "You really have no idea what's going on here, do you?" Blue track suit looked like he thought Ethan was playing a trick on him. Ethan struggled to understand. Clearly he was missing something and it seemed important. "But we are going to stay human, right?" he managed. Blue tack suit nodded his assent, but he still looked like he was feeling sorry for Ethan. "Don't worry, you'll be human," he said. That was somewhat reassuring but with an ominous undertone to it. There was little time to ponder this before the disembodied voice returned. "Let's continue with the letter 'G' and this uniform." "I think that's you." Ethan looked at the holo image his companion had just gestured to. The male and female form wearing silver unitards had been replaced. Floating over the table now was a slowly rotating image of a lone female form wearing the same light purple hospital gown Ethan had on. The lack of a corresponding male figure confused him and he thought for a moment that it was not his turn. A quick glance at his Ident card confirmed the letter 'G'. "I guess it is my turn. Well, goodbye. Maybe I'll catch you later." "If I can afford it," blue track suit answered with a sharp laugh. Ethan left awkwardly and made his way to the front of the room where he was the last to join five other people dressed exactly as he was. The technician shepherded them through the open doorway in between sips of coffee, eventually handing them off to another technician. This one was a woman, smiling in that professional hostess manner. "Good morning, Team! And welcome to your new assignments. My name's Trish and I'll be your Education Coordinator. I know you're all eager to get started, so let's you over to the Education center so we can get you your new ident cards." Finally, Ethan thought. A real ident card would let him access his accounts and get him the hell out of here. Maybe things were starting to go his way. It was with some relief that he followed the group down the hall. This was also the first opportunity he had to consider the group he was in. They were all women, and varied greatly in height, weight, and age. He was a good head taller than anyone else. About the only thing they seemed to have in common being the 'uniform'. Each wore the same hard soled sandals and the same light purple short sleeved hospital gown, with one tie around the neck, and sealed material from the hips down. It looked better on them than it did on him. Tied off with more of a flourish and resting on a female frame made the uniform look more like a dress than a hospital gown. Ethan admired the view, but something about that thought worried him and he was not reassured by the sound of their heels clicking down the hallway. Finally they reached Education Room 32 and Trish held the door open for them to enter. Inside it reminded Ethan of another university classroom with side by side terminals and a large holo screen at the front of the room. "Take a seat anywhere and we can get started." Trish moved to the front of the room and turned on the holo screen. "If you switch on your terminals and insert you temporary ident cards into the readers, you will be issued your trainee cards. Once everyone has their trainee cards we can start the introductions." Trainee cards? That did not sound like he was getting out of here any time soon. Still, it seemed to be the only way forward so with some trepidation Ethan switched on his terminal and inserted the bright orange card into the reader. The familiar whir of a new card being issued was followed by a click as an unfamiliar card was spat out of the reader. A standard card was mostly white with green printing and included a holo of the person it belonged to. This one was pale purple with white printing and instead of Ethan's picture there was a cartoon of a female form like one would see on the door to the women's bathroom. This could not be his card. It did not even have his name on it. Where a proper card would have read 'Ethan Kaine' across the top, this one had the single name 'Candace' written on it. Ethan flipped the unfamiliar card around to the back to read 'Trainee Good Time Girl' written on it. "Excuse me," he shouted out to Trish. "There's been some sort of mistake here." "Please leave all questions until after the introduction." "But this isn't my card." "Please," she stressed. "The introduction should answer most of your questions." "But... okay," he shrugged. If they wanted to waste time, that was their call, but they were going to feel pretty stupid when they realized their mistake. The lights dimmed to accommodate the holo screen which was showing the logo of the Reassignments Center and the Government Assignments Department. This faded to the image of the generic female form wearing the light purple hospital gown. Ethan recognized it as the same image used to call them to the front, back at the room they had just left. The rotating image had cartoonish qualities which were slowly coalescing into the appearance of real clothing. The underlying female form took on less of a mannequin look, gradually becoming more human. With a flourish the image became totally lifelike and an upbeat dance number filled the air as the image spoke. "Hi girls! And welcome to the best job in the world! My name's Katherine, but you can call me Kate. And I'm here to tell you the first things you need to know." The image smiled as it seemed to be looking at everyone in the room in turn. 'Kate' was a knockout. She had long wavy black hair that shone in the light and rich brown eyes. She also had more curves than any two of the girls in the room together and moved with a sultry easiness that threatened to seriously distract Ethan. "First off, you've probably noticed your new cards are not the same as a standard ident card." The card she held up looked like Ethan's. The image zoomed in to show the details on her card as she went over some of the changes. "These are trainee cards and these will be your legal ident cards for the next year or so." A year? "They work just like the temporary cards you gave up, except that now you can collect credits on them too!" Great, Ethan thought, he could now make non-existent money. Yahoo. "You've also probably noticed that you've got a new name now. This is to help you start fresh with your new life. Your old names have been taken out of the system and from now on this is your legal name. And don't worry; everyone gets a last name assigned when they graduate." Ethan was beginning to feel a little worried. If this mistake went as far as Kate said it did, he would be legally Candace until he got this cleared up. That would be embarrassing. "Finally, your picture doesn't look much like you now, does it? This is because YOU don't look much like you're going to! Every day you are going to become more and more beautiful as you are genetically enhanced to become a real live Good Time Girl, and since we can't get an image of what you'll look like next year, we've replaced the holograph portion of your card with this symbol. Don't worry; the card is imprinted with your genes just like a standard ident card. It legally identifies you as a trainee here at the center and nobody else can use it." Ethan felt a cold sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Genetically enhanced? They were going to play with his genes. But they wouldn't try to change him into a girl. Would they? Just how far did these changes go? The screen was showing images of plain, or even ugly, women slowly morphing into classic beauties. Changes in height, weight, hair and skin color all seemed possible judging by the graphic. Even skeletal structure seemed to shift as the girls blossomed into beauty. Clearly this was all a mistake, Ethan reasoned. It did not make sense for anyone to turn a program oversight developer with an engineering degree into a sex kitten. "Once your transition is complete, you'll be entering a world of glamour and entertainment! Not only will you have the stability and benefits of a government career as you perform a vital service, you will also have the opportunity to increase your income as a part-time freelancer while you attend some of the most fabulous events and entertain some of the most famous people." The morphed beauties on the screen had been dressed in the same hospital gown Ethan wore, but when 'Kate' started talking of glamour and entertainment, the images shifted to show the girls in a dazzling variety of situations wearing a dizzying array of outfits. There were formal gowns at gala events, bikinis at fabulous beaches, short tight dresses at discotheques with pulsating lights and music, and even soft- core bedroom scenes with little of any clothing. As Kate finished talking, the scene shifted again with Kate now front and center as the smiling beauties filled in behind her "You will be joining a sisterhood of proud professionals, ready to contribute to society in a meaningful and productive way." The women in the holo scene all wore the same light purple hospital gown Ethan had been given to wear. On them, it had the distinct look of being female attire. Perhaps it was just the way they filled it out that made it look like a dress. It had also looked like a dress on the five women in his group. It looked like a dress on everyone... Oh crap, he thought, it is a dress! He lamely tried to cover the skirt portion of the offending clothing with his hands and forearms, mentally willing the material to transform into a pair of pants. He was wearing a dress. Nobody in the room seemed to be paying him any attention. They all thought he was supposed to be dressed like this, in this room, listening to this. They all thought he was one of them. "And we have only one thing to say to you... Welcome to the team!" The last portion of that had been chanted in unison by the bevy of Good Time Girls in the holo scene. It was surreal. They actually expected him to do this. Well to heck with that, Ethan thought as he stood up to leave. "Please remain seated for the entire introduction," Trish chided. Ethan paid no attention to her as he stormed out the door and marched back down the hallway they had started from. His face burned more as each step caused the hem of his dress to brush against his legs. Trish called after him as she chased behind. His progress was finally stopped near the start of the hallway by one of the security types from the auditorium. "May I help you?" the guard asked, not sounding particularly helpful. "It's alright, Greg," called Trish, trying to catch her breath as she caught up to them. "I've got this." Ethan paid her no attention and directed his comments to the authority figure in front of him. "Someone better," he demanded. "They've got me in the wrong room! I need to talk to someone who knows what they're doing!" He looked at Ethan's ident card closely then glanced sideways at Trish. "Now Candace," Trish said gently trying to take Ethan by the arm. "You need to come back and join the others for the rest of your in- briefing." "My name's not Candace!" he shouted, violently pulling his arm away from her. "It's Ethan! Ethan Kaine! And somebody has made a terrible mistake!" "I think maybe you need to calm down, Miss," the guard said menacingly. Ethan might have maintained his composure by just a slim margin if the guard had not added 'Miss' to the end of that statement. As it was, it became the first time Ethan had ever lost it when dealing with the legal authorities. It was also the first time he had ever been tagged with a stun baton. "There's always one. Get her out of here," Ethan heard the guard mutter as he slipped into blackness. The one thing Ethan truly learned from that encounter was that a stun baton may be non-lethal, but it was far from harmless. He awoke some time later with a pounding headache. His hands and feet were painfully tingling and his mouth felt as if he had a mouthful of sand. Even his eyes hurt and he could not seem to get a high pitched hum out of his ears. Groaning, he pulled himself awake and tried to take stock of where he was. He was back in his room, in bed. His room given to him at the Center, that is. Someone had dragged him back and put him to bed. He remembered why they had stunned him in the first place and sat up with a start, fearful that they had carried out the threat. A quick check reassured him that he was still the same person that had walked into the Center. Shaking his head in relief he got up and checked myself out in the mirror. He was unchanged. He tried to picture myself as a woman and had to chuckle. These people were crazy. There was no way he could pass for female. Crazy they may be, but they did actually seem to believe what they were saying. And if he wanted to avoid being turned into some kind of freak, he had better find someone in charge real fast. This mistake needed to be straightened out before they did something permanent. Getting mad had gotten him stunned so maybe playing nice would get him to someone in charge. To a certain extent it worked. It got him into the waiting room for the Assistant Deputy Director for Homeland Employment, Northeast Region. This, as it turned out, was three chairs across from a busy receptionist who giggled when she read his ident card. His real name and old occupation got him absolutely nowhere, as if he never existed. The only way he got this far was to tell a dozen officials and computer terminals that he was a trainee Good Time Girl named Candace. Sitting there and thinking about that made his skin crawl and he shivered involuntarily. Though that may have been because the dress and sandals he was still stuck wearing did nothing to keep him warm. He could feel the air-conditioning blow across his exposed legs and he tried to pull the hem down. There wasn't anything he could do about the shoulders and neckline. The clothes made him feel naked and it didn't help that the waiting area was little more than a busy hallway. It seemed that the whole world was staring at him. "Miss Candace? Mr. Betancourt will see you now." "Thanks," he answered through gritted teeth. Mr. Betancourt rose to greet him as he entered. "Miss... um... Candace is it?" Mr. Betancourt asked glancing at his desktop display. "Please, have a seat." "Thank you. I appreciate you seeing me on such short notice." "Not at all. Now what exactly can I help you with?" "Well you see, I think there's been some sort of mistake made." "Oh?" "Yes. My name is really Ethan Kaine and I'm a software engineer with Light & Power not a Good Time Girl at all." "Well I'm sure we can get this straightened out. May I see your ident card?" Ethan handed over the offending card, glad to be rid of it. This was going well. Finally he had found someone who could clear this mess up. Maybe the system works after all. "I see what's happened," Mr. Betancourt said after several moments at his terminal. "Your position with Light & Power was declared redundant on August 3 and you were slotted through Reassignment at this office where you reported on August 8. Two days early, very commendable. And you were reassigned to your current position following routine check in procedure. I'm afraid everything is quite in order." He had the nerve to be smiling as he handed Ethan back his ident card. "No that's impossible. Okay, so maybe my old job is gone, but there's no way I can be a Good Time Girl." Mr. Betancourt seemed puzzled for a moment. "I don't understand," he said. "If you didn't want to be a Good Time Girl, why did you request it?" "Because I didn't request it!!" Ethan snapped angrily. "There's been some kind of mistake!" Mr. Betancourt seemed a little flustered as he began checking something on his terminal in earnest. "Here it is," he said regaining his composure and turning the view screen to show Ethan his in-processing questionnaire. "You chose 'civil service' and 'actor/entertainer' as your primary and secondary career preferences. That combination creates a very narrow career field from which you were assigned to the priority fill which happened to be Good Time Girl." He did not actually look and sound smug, but more like a child that had figured out a puzzle box on his own. "That's ridiculous!" Ethan shouted. "No, really. Good Time Girls are defined as entertainers and granted it isn't the first thing you think of when you think of civil service, but until you pay back the rejuvenation and transformation costs, you will be working on government commission." "That's... Wait... What?" "Good Time Girls are defined as entertainers." "No, the other thing." "Civil servant?" "Yes... No! The rejuvenation thing." "Ah yes, that is one of the perks of your new career. All Good Time Girls receive full body rejuvenation treatments in exchange for a certain number of years pledged government service." Mr. Betancourt had Ethan's attention. Rejuvenation was one heck of a big carrot to dangle in front of someone. It was hugely expensive, like 'lottery winner' expensive. And the price got higher the older you started or the younger you finally looked. Most people he knew were trying to save up as much money as possible for even a few years of rejuvenation. Few could afford it. Ethan knew that at his age, buying even five years was a lost hope. "How many years service?" Ethan asked cautiously. "It varies," Mr. Betancourt answered. "Starting at your current age of 47 and moving towards an end state appearance of somewhere in the late teens to early 20's and given that you will be working in a high demand priority fill career, you will incur... let's see... here it is! Twelve years of mandatory service." "Twelve years? Mandatory service? So that means what? For twelve years I have to be some sort of government slave?" "Hardly a slave. You will be a highly paid professional working towards a government pension." Mr. Betancourt knew how to spin an offer, but this offer had one heck of a catch which he underscored by what he said next. "Plus, you can work freelance and wind up earning more money than you did before. You'll be meeting a lot of rich men and many of the girls in your line of work retire as wealthy women." This nut job was acting like he believed Ethan was already Good Time Girl. What were they going to do, wave a wand and magically transform him? Yeah, right, but a stab of fear ran through him when he remembered where he was. This was a Reassignments Center. They were in the business of transforming people. If they could change people to live on other planets or in the ocean and have that change breed true, what would stop them from turning a man into a woman. Not much. Fortunately this was still sort of a free country. They could not make him take a job. So all he had to do was refuse any job that involved him being turned into a woman. He would have to tread carefully. "The problem with that is-" Ethan paused to consider his next words. "I don't want to be a Good Time Girl. I'm going to have to officially refuse that line of work." Mr. Betancourt furrowed his brow in thought. "I see," he said. "You understand that rejuvenation is an extremely expensive process and if you choose a lower priority career you will increase your liability for repayment. We could find you a position in one of the colonies. The added costs would increase your overall liability, but your mandatory years in service would not change much." "No, not the colonies," Ethan added quickly. "Hmmm." He considered his desktop display for a while. "Well we have listings for Surrogate Mother and Nanny. Although choosing Nanny as a career would take you to over thirty years of obligatory service." "Any careers involving programming?" Ethan asked. "Yes, but that would make you liable for the costs involved in your gender change as well. You would be much better off choosing a female specific career." "Look, Charles," Ethan said reading the nameplate on Mr. Betancourt's desk. "I don't want a female specific career. I don't want a female anything. Let's just choose me a nice male career and leave it at that." "Why don't we leave you as Good Time Girl for the duration of your Education phase and we can make the decision after your training. It will take about a year after which you may decide you like your new career and it will save everyone a lot of bother." "If you think I'm going to hang around here for a year and pretend to be a woman while you 'train' me, you're crazy!" Ethan shouted and continued to shout, "You can keep your gender change and your rejuvenation! I don't want either of them!" The room seemed very quiet. Mr. Betancourt blinked a few times and folded his hands thoughtfully. "I'm afraid there's a misunderstanding," he said calmly. "Rejuvenation is a micro-cellular process to refresh each individual cell into a younger version of itself. Nanite technology is then used to track the patient's genome and reassemble the younger cells into younger tissues and organ systems. If we wish to induce changes beyond rejuvenation, then we introduce tailored retroviruses to alter the genome ahead of time. Rejuvenation then would proceed as normal and rebuild the person according to the new pattern which can take up to a year to complete." He paused to see if Ethan followed him so far. "I don't care how it's done. Just keep it away from me." Ethan was firm, but still very much on edge. "I'm afraid you still misunderstand," Mr. Betancourt replied. "Both the nanites and retroviruses were inoculated into you during your physicals. By the time you recovered from your initial fever there was not a single Y chromosome left in your body. You already are female." Ethan was not a hundred percent sure what happened next beyond it being the second time he had ever been tagged with a stun baton. It was probably an automatic defense built into the desk or something that got triggered when he lunged to complete his plan. In hindsight it was not much of a plan. Pick up Mr. Betancourt's name plate then use it to bash him in the head. "Glad to see you're awake," said a woman's voice from somewhere in the room. "I was beginning to wonder." "Wha...?" Ethan managed to choke out past the sandpaper feeling in my mouth. "You've been out for over six hours. Here, drink this. It'll make you feel better." She handed him a mug of something warm which he smelled dubiously. "It's just herbal tea, silly. It'll help take the headache away," she added. Ethan was still skeptical and feeling paranoid. "If I wanted to drug you, I wouldn't wait six hours for you to wake up first," she chided in a friendly manner. She had a point there and mentioning 'headache' made Ethan realize how much his head hurt. He sipped the tea a few times. She seemed familiar, but Ethan could not place where he had seen her before. "Who... who are you?" he managed to scratch out. The tea helped but everything still hurt. "I'm Jennifer. According to my new ident card, anyway," she shrugged holding up a pale purple card with white writing that looked to be the twin of his. Now he recognized her. She was one of the five women who had in- processed with him at Assignments. She was older, maybe late 50's, and he had not given her much consideration at the time. She was attractive enough in a faded-glory kind of way with dark hair and a slender build. She was dressed differently than Ethan remembered, which had hindered his recognizing her. At Assignments, they had all been wearing the purple dresses and sandals. Now she had on blue jeans and a t-shirt with jogging shoes. "My name's Ethan," he said. "I thought it was Candace," she giggled. "That's a mistake!" he said wincing at the reminder. Jennifer shrugged noncommittally. "It is a mistake," he repeated probably a little too defensively. "And I'm going to correct it as soon as I get out of here." "Whatever." She shrugged and smiled. "But until you do, it looks like we'll be going through Education and Training together." "Listen," Ethan said getting a grip on his embarrassment. "Thank you for the tea, but I'm not feeling well right now. Maybe you should just go." "Okay," she said still smiling as she got up to leave. "My room's just one section away, so if there's anything you need, just call me on the terminal." "Thanks, I will," he said politely with no real intent to ever call. She paused at the doorway and turned back with a mischievous look in her eye. "Bye, Candie girl. See you later," she teased and slipped out the door with a laugh before he could sputter out a reply. Ethan spent the next hour feeling miserable and thinking about what he should have said to her. Then he spent the next two hours thinking about what he should have said to Mr. Betancourt. Thinking was not going well for him. This whole week was hitting him hard; losing his job, this reassignment screw-up, nobody listening to reason, getting stunned twice, and now this 'Jennifer' woman calling him candy girl. That irritated more than he cared to admit. It was a little too close to the childhood taunts he had received for having the last name of Kaine. He could remember the playground fights whenever anyone called him 'Candy Kaine'. It was then that he realized Candie was short for Candace. His name really was Candie Kaine, or at least it would be if he got the Kaine part back. Things just kept getting worse. Ethan tried to review what had happened. What did Mr. Betancourt actually say? He said that Ethan was already female or that he was genetically female at least. It was something like that. That had to be wrong. He did not feel any different. Legs, arms, head, everything seemed normal except for some lingering aches and pains from the stunner. Gingerly, he prodded his chest area looking for anything unusual, any swelling, or sensitivity, or lumps. Nothing. Nervously he inspected his genitalia. Everything was normal, near as he could tell. Gaining confidence Ethan approached the mirror and examined his face in detail. It looked the same. Brown hair kept short, getting grey on the sides, hairline a little higher than he would have liked. Eyes also brown, looking kind of bloodshot at the moment. Same large Kaine family nose with a slight cut on the bridge that had not been there before, but that probably happened when he lunged at Mr. Betancourt. Chin and mouth looked normal. He was in need of a shave. There was about a day's worth of stubble that felt reassuringly scratchy. And there was the same semi-prominent Adams apple. He looked like himself. He looked masculine. Mr. Betancourt was wrong. He was not a woman, he was a man. This was just another mistake on their part. How was he to fix this and get his life back? He needed to get away from the Reassignments Center and talk to someone at Records or maybe Social Administration. They should be able to convince the Center who he really was. Social Administration might even be able to get his old ident card back. It was a good place to start. So again, he had a plan. And again, not much of a plan; get away from here, convince the powers that be who he really was, have them straighten everything out and get his life back. But it was a plan. Unfortunately there was something he needed to get first, but did not know where to get it. He did however know someone who did and she did say to call her if he needed anything. "Candie? Hi girl! What's up?" "Hi Jennifer," he answered, wincing at both the 'Candie' and the 'girl' reference. "Do you remember saying that if I needed anything I should call?" "Sure. What can I do for you?" "Can you tell me where you got those pants?" "I'll do more than tell you. I'll show you!" she said. There was a gleam in her eye and a bemused look on her face that should have warned him. He tried to tell her it was not necessary for her to come over, but she insisted it would be fun. Somehow that did not reassure him. It turned out that Jennifer's idea of fun was a shopping trip to the mall a block away from the Center where, he was told, his ident card would be accepted and the Center billed for all purchases. No real money was needed. That seemed odd, but he was more concerned with being seen out in public wearing a dress. Jennifer assured him that there would be lots of people there from the Center and that everyone would be used to seeing oddly dressed people. Oddly dressed. He definitely felt oddly dressed, but it did not take him long to find a decent pair of jeans and a normal looking shirt. "It's not going to work, you know," Jennifer said "What?" he asked sipping on a coke in the mall food court. "This clothes thing," she answered. "It won't change what they did to you." "They didn't do anything," he said, a little too quickly. "Whatever," she answered. Things went on in silence for awhile. "You know, you're not very nice," she mentioned almost casually. "What do you mean?" "I mean, that we've spent most of the morning buying boy clothes for you, but I still want to go shopping," she said. Ethan thought about it for a second. She had helped him without asking for anything. And yes, he could be nicer. "Okay," he said. "Let's do something you want to do." What Jennifer wanted to do was more shopping and what followed was a whirlwind involving shoes, shirts, skirts, and a lot of underwear. It all amounted to several armloads of parcels of which two seemed to still be with him when he wound up back in his room at the Center. Sighing, he tucked the bags in the corner of the closet, vowing to never think on them again. The next few days were an exercise in frustration. Nothing he could access on the public net would let him connect to anything associated with 'Ethan Kaine'. His ident card defined him as: Candace, F, Good Time Girl trainee, Government Reassignments Center #144. And Candace did not have access to Ethan's financial and personal connects. Nor did Candace have access to Ethan's Friends list and no one who knew him as Ethan would accept a blind connect from some trainee prostitute with one name living at government quarters. For the moment at least he was stuck, but determined to escape. Over the course of the next few weeks frenzied, but frustrated, activities began to degenerate into numb repetition and further degenerate into boredom. Ethan wound up spending more and more time at the mall where he could pretend to be living a normal life. Normal but unemployed, he thought, in a world where no one was unemployed. Jennifer would find him moping there and she would hang out. She loved shopping and he was bored, so they often went shopping. The companionship was welcome. She let him vent his frustrations. She was a good listener and sympathetic to a point. The trouble was that she was totally on board with the idea of both of them going on to become Good Time Girls. She was actually excited about it and wanted Ethan to share the excitement. She took it on as her personal mission to encourage him to accept his new role. "You're only making it worse you know," Jennifer said one day at the food court. They had been shopping all morning and he had offered to buy lunch. "What?" he said, expecting the usual lecture on his clothes. "You. You're making it worse by wasting your time here in the mall and