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GENDER VIRUS
by BobH
(c) 2013
Locked away in a remote research station and storage facility deep
in Siberia were all the nastiest products of Soviet-era bio-weapons
research. The nuclear explosion that took out the station was
supposed to destroy them all, but one of them survived....
***********************************
A WEDDING STORY
by Carol Wolfe
Amalgamated Press UK
This is a tale of a bride and a groom, of Craig and Marnie, and of a
mother and her child. It's a tale of a family. My family. It's also very
much a tale of the new reality we all find ourselves in, a tale being
repeated in hundreds of other familes in America and across the globe.
New England is always at its best in the fall when the leaves turn
multiple shades of red and brown, a final burst of color before winter
sets in. Our family were shaped by this part of the country, but the
wedding I had flown in from the UK for owes its existence as much to a
faraway land where the only color had been white until that day five
years ago when a small sun briefly burst into being over it in the
mushroom cloud of a nuclear explosion.
Founded early in the 19th century the town of Millers Cross is picture-
postcard pretty. Its inhabitants are prosperous and appear to have
mostly weathered the economic storms that have battered the economies of
neighboring towns over the past decade, but even Millers Cross could not
escape all the social storms. Those who broke into that abandoned
Soviet-era biological warfare research laboratory in a remote part of
Siberia didn't consider why it had been sited as far away from human
habitation as was possible, or that they would trigger a small nuke
designed to sterilise it in the event it was compromised. And neither
they nor anyone else could have predicted that one of the many viruses
stored there would survive that sterilization, that it would rise up
into the jet stream and spread around the world, to find its way even to
small communities like this one.
I arrive early at the family home, which now seems much smaller than it
did when I lived here. I've been back several times in the twenty years
since I left, of course, but this visit is different. I'm greeted at the
door and given a hug by my older sister Claire, the mother of the bride.
This is not a role she can ever have imagined filling while raising her
only child, a son.
Scientists dubbed it the Human Gender Virus or 'HGV' and it had already
been replicating unnoticed in the bodies of those it infected for over a
year, being breathed out by them and infecting many more, before it
began transforming its hosts. At first it appeared to be no more than an
eating disorder, one where men and boys cut their food intake
drastically while women and girls increased theirs, losing and gaining
weight respectively. But as their body masses altered so did their
bodies, males becoming female and females male. The changes were slow at
first, almost imperceptible, but when people realised what was happening
panic set in.
I find my former nephew - now my niece - in her bedroom. With its vanity
table, its closet full of pretty dresses, and the large number of high
heeled shoes strewn around it could belong to any teenaged girl in any
modern country. On the wall are several framed photos of a tall,
muscular and handsome young man wearing the football uniform of his high
school team. This is Craig, and in high school he was the captain of
that team.
Unfortunately the early days of the current epidemic have mirrored the
early days of the AIDS epidemic. As with those who were HIV-positive
back then, so those who tested positive for HGV were shunned and even
attacked. Unlike HIV, HGV didn't develop into something that could kill
you, but being airborne it was a lot more infectious. There were calls
in every country to quarantine all who was HGV-positive, but this would
have involved the mass testing of entire populations and so was never
going to be feasible. While some turned to violence, others reacted by
removing themselves from the rest of the population. Typically, this led
to the setting up heavily guarded settlements in remote areas where the
prevailing winds come in from the ocean and only those who test negative
for HGV are allowed entry. That at least is what happened in North
America and much of Europe. We've all heard the horror stories from
those parts of the world where the status of women is so much lower than
that of men.
Marnie is delighted to see her favorite aunt and her hug is more
enthusiastic than that of her mother. Hugging her back it still feels
strange to me that she's so much smaller now than she used to be. Before
HGV no one had believed that bone could get smaller of be reshaped to
any extent by anything other than surgery, but the level of bone
alteration in some people has been remarkable. Marnie is seven inches
shorter now, with wider hips, narrower shoulders and a smaller back.
Even the bones in her face have changed with her prominent nose now more
petite, her browline far smoother, and that square jaw smaller and
rounder. Her transformation has been remarkable, and not just the
physical one. When I had last seen her, Marnie was still dressing only
in boyish clothes and depressed about what had happened to her. Now here
she was wearing make-up, heels, and a skirt, clearly very happy and at
peace with herself. Yet by her own admission she had been "dragged
kicking and screaming" into femininity and it might never have taken if
not for one thing.
She fell for a boy.
Nine months. That's how long it takes on average to fully transition. It
has escaped no one's attention that this is the same length of time as a
human gestation. Here in the US many choose to see religious
significance in the fact. They argue that this is being born again in a
physical sense and so is a command from God to also be born again
spiritually. Others see the virus not as God's work but as Satan's, that
changing the gender of one half of a married couple is his way of
encouraging homosexuality. So it was ironic that within months of doing
so two of those who most loudly proclaimed the latter view found
themselves transitioning and were quickly removed from leadership of
their respective ministries. Their spouses are so far standing by them,
citing the sanctity of marriage and their having vowed to remain with
their husbands "in sickness and in health". Whether this demonstrates
God's sense of humor or Satan's is a matter for debate.
Displayed on a stand in Marnie's room is The Dress. With its lace
sleeves, its bodice tailored to make the most most of Marnie's lovely
cleavage and trim waist, and the voluminous skirt floating on its many
underlayers, is a thing of beauty and a tribute to the dressmaker's art.
Marnie touches it often as we talk, her eyes alight, and I find myself
envying her. Tomorrow she will be the star of the show, the belle of the
ball, and every eye will be on her.
It's estimated that today, almost five years after the incident in
Siberia, as much as forty percent of the world's population is HGV-
positive, though many have no idea of their status, and that over time
that number can only rise. Scientists forsee a time maybe ten to twenty
years from now when the entire world has been infected. Not that being
HGV-positive means you will necessarily transition. There are those who
start transitioning within weeks of being infected, but there are also
those who tested positive when testing began four years ago and have yet
to do so.
The day of the wedding is the usual last minute panic these things
always are, but come the hour and everything is perfect. The organist
strikes up 'Here Comes the Bride' and there she is, gliding down the
aisle on her former coach's arm and looking beautiful. In these times
being HGV-positive can make finding a spouse difficult, but in the case
of Marnie and James this isn't a problem. Both of them have already
transitioned, the once male jock finding love in the arms of the once
female former goth. I was fortunate when I transitioned, since my wife
and I are still together. Somehow we're making it work.
As the bride and groom exchange their vows I glance across at my sister,
beaming with pride yet also looking wistful. Thanks to the virus she has
lost all her close male relatives. Her son Craig is now her daughter
Marnie, her brother Carl now her sister Carol, and her husband Tom now
hiding away in one of the remote communities referred to earlier. When
his wife and child needed him, when it was time to stand up and be a
man, he fled in fear for his own manhood and in so doing proved he was
no sort of man at all.
At 19 years old Marnie and James seem terribly young to be getting
married but you only need to look at them to see how in love they are,
and in the end maybe that's enough. When Marnie and I were talking in
her bedroom the day before the wedding she revealed she had learned only
a couple of days earlier that she was pregnant. She was both excited and
nervous about it.
But then first time mothers-to-be usually are.
Copyright Carol Wolfe, (c) 2018.
******************************
Note:
This started out as a writing exercise, a challenge to myself to see how
concise I could be in describing a world-changing TG event in the form
of a short newspaper column, one whose impact on society mirrored that
of the early days of the AIDS epidemic. The Human Gender Virus was
created purely for this tale with no particular plans to explore it
further. However if anyone finds the world described herein interesting
and wants to write a story set there feel free. If you do so, please use
this title format:
GENDER VIRUS: (your title)
This format makes it easier to search for tales set in a given universe.
Oh yeah, one thing implied above but not stated outright: this is a one-
way ticket. You get infected once and transition once, if you transition
at all.
Also, although the gender virus was released from a bio-weapons storage
facility it wasn't ever intended as a weapon - how could it usefully be
one, after all? I figure it was discovered or accidentally created
during other research and sealed away with the bio-weapons for safe-
keeping after they realized how infectious it was.
Gert
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