The Other Side Of Me - Part One free porn video

The Other Side of Me - Part One by Limbo's Mistress "Come on! Come on!" Jackson dragged me down the steps toward his basement with the fervor of a man trying to escape from a blazing inferno. "Slow down, dude," I protested, trying to keep my feet firmly beneath me as we descended into what I mentally referred to as the 'Lair of Doom'. "Whatever it is this time, isn't going anywhere." He put his hand on the scanner next to the heavy steel door at the bottom of the steps as he glanced back over his shoulder at me. His always wide and energetic eyes were full of uncontrolled mania. Which only happened when he managed to supersede even his own outlandish expectations. Saying that he looked like a mad scientist would be an insult to mad scientists everywhere. Especially since what Jackson did would be considered science per se. If anything, he was an insane inventor. "That's where you're wrong Chuck," he said, using the nickname he knew I hated. "Timing on this is totally important." The scanner beeped, turned green, and the slab of dark gray metal slid open on its tracks, revealing the entrance to the basement of the Donahue household. Jackson pulled on my arm, urging me to follow him inside. I hesitated, but only for a second. The last time my best friend was this excited about one of his amazing breakthroughs, which he claimed was a time portal, I spent five extremely long hours as a two-year-old. Luckily, Jackson was able to figure out how to reverse the polarity and re-age me back to normal before I ended up having to use the diaper his mother had put me in. "Jack," I said, finally following him into his sanctum sanctorum, "I'm not really in the mood to play guinea pig today. I've got a math exam tomorrow in Professor Michaels' class, and not all of us have a genius-level intellect." He glanced back over his shoulder at me, still grinning that maniac grin. "Nope. You are not the subject of today's experiment," he said proudly. "Today all I want you to do is look. Just observe and be amazed!" "Famous last words," I mumbled. However, I didn't stop walking, despite knowing that I was probably going to regret it in the end. Jackson's basement had been converted into a rather impressive laboratory five years earlier when his parents had finally grown tired of constantly repairing his bedroom and the family kitchen. Formerly an unfinished storage area, his dad had reinforced all the walls, the floor, and the ceiling with military-grade titanium. Then a professional contractor had been brought in to install a high-tech fire suppression system and a hazardous chemical neutralizer. Just to be on the safe side. Despite the additional safeguards, Jackson was still bound by several of his parents' rules. Including a prohibition on alcohol and antimatter. He wound his way around a series of failed, abandoned, or incomplete inventions. Including the Time Portal Generator. Even though the device's control panel had been completely removed and the power supply disconnected, simply walking past the thing sent a cold shudder up my spine and produced the momentary desire to suck on my thumb. "Jack," I complained, giving the TPG a wide berth. "Can't this wait until tomorrow? I mean, Thursday evening really isn't the best time." He waved his hand dismissively. "I promise this won't take that long," he explained, stopping next to what looked to be a black metal podium. The silver panel on top was covered in several switches and dials, and a large green light at the top of the control unit blinked with a steady greenish hue. At the bottom of the thing, three thick black cables, each as big around as my bicep, emerged from the base. Two of them snaked away in one direction, where they attached to the sides of one of the lab's three micro-fusion reactors. The other slinked the other way, toward the nearest wall. "Well?" he asked, gesturing at the podium. "What do you think?" I nodded with a very impressed expression on my face as I crossed my arms over my chest. "Congratulations," I said in my most sincere voice. "You've invented the lectern. Be sure to take it with you when you collect your Nobel Prize." A frown replaced the smile. "Very funny, Charles," he said in a hurtful tone before sighing. "This is just the control unit." Then he gestured behind me. "That's the big breakthrough." I turned around to see what looked to be a large black curtain hanging down from a rod affixed to the nearby wall. The bottom edge of it swayed slightly about six inches from the floor and the top was just slightly higher than my own six feet. I turned back around to look at Jackson with an single arched brow. "Let me guess," I said in a completely deadpan tone, "it's behind the tapestry?" He responded with a nod of his head, then glanced down at his watch before turning his eyes to the digital clock on the wall behind him. Turning back to me, his grin widened. "It's almost time," he said, pointing at the cloth. "Go ahead, Charlie, pull the rope." I drew in a deep breath and released it with an audible sigh as I gritted my teeth and walked over to the hanging cloth. As I walked, I went ahead and crossed studying for my Trig exam off my list of possible activities for the evening. If history was any indication, I was more likely to get zapped by whatever cockamamie invention Jackson had created. Then spend the rest of the evening while he attempted to repair the effects. Standing in front of the swaying curtain, I noticed that the lone cable running from the podium drifted up the wall beside it before disappearing under one of the side edges. I turned around and saw Jackson had moved to stand behind the lectern-like device and was currently flipping switches in a carefully orchestrated manner. The flashing green light continued to blink steadily, giving me the hope that it indicated that the device was in some kind of stand-by mode, and not actually active. A gold bit of nylon rope dangled next to the curtain. When I pulled lightly on it, the knot holding the cloth to the rod overhead released. The whole pile drifted down gently to pool on the concrete floor at my feet revealing ... a big mirror. It was rectangular, approximately eight feet high and five feet wide, and had a thick frame made out of some type of quartz-like mineral. Seriously? That's what had Jackson's shorts all in a twist? I stepped around the lump of fabric on the floor so that I could stare directly into the oversized looking glass. Honestly expecting to see some kind of weird distorted image. Like something you might see in a carnival fun house. However, the person looking back at me was only my usual self. A not- unattractive face (according to my past girlfriends) with light gray eyes and a shaggy mane of reddish brown hair that was badly in need of a trimming. The area beneath my thin nose and along my cheeks and chin were covered in a light stubble that matched my hair. Until the previous week, I'd sported a full goatee. The constant teasing about it from my little sister spurred me to shave it off. The body beneath the face was thin, but athletic. I had won a coveted track and field scholarship and was looking forward to competing on the college circuit. The lean, taut muscles of my arms and legs were visible beneath the dark gray t-shirt and workout pants I wore. All in all, I thought I was fairly good looking. Maybe not anywhere close to being a GQ cover model, but not anywhere close to Quasimodo either. Bringing my gaze up to look behind me, I watched Jackson check his watch again, look down at the panel, and scrunch up his brow. The expression on his face was the one he did when he was trying to decipher a problem. Stepping back from the mirror on instinct, I turned completely around to face him. "What's wrong?" He reached up and scratched at the back of his head. Another of his quirky habits. "Not sure. The dimensional attunement modulator is throwing off a weird signal. Like a fluctuating energy signal." Then he snapped his fingers and pointed past me to the mirror, not lifting his gaze from the panel before him. "Hey, there's a green and yellow cable at the bottom of the device. Can you check to make sure it's completely plugged in?" "Sure," I said. I turned back to the mirror, now paying more attention to the thing itself, rather than the images contained within. I saw there was a small, black box, about the size of a speaker, attached to the wall next to the mirror. The cable from the podium was attached to the left side, and a smaller cable, this one green with yellow stripes, emerged from the bottom of the box and connected to a port on the mirror's frame. Reaching out without thinking about what I was actually doing, I grabbed the end of the cable near where it connected with the mirror's frame. At my touch, it wobbled quite a bit, so I did what anyone else might do in a similar situation, I shoved it back into place. "Ow!" I yelled as the closed circuit sent a jolt of electricity shooting up my arm to my shoulder. My entire body thrummed with the aftereffect. Spinning around, I glared at Jackson. "Sorry," he said, a bit of a blush forming on his face. "I meant to warn you to be careful. That line is hot and I had to jury-rig the connection since I couldn't manage to find a locking ring that was the correct size." I shook my hand, trying to get the tingling feeling to dissipate. "It's things like that which make me afraid to come in here half the time." "Oh, stop being such a baby, Charlie," he said. Then blinked and looked at me with an extremely sheepish expression. "Uh ...I'm going to just shut up now." "That would be most preferable," I said, then pointed at my eyes with two fingers before pointing them at him. "I'm watching you." He rolled his eyes at me, then glanced down at the console. "Awesome! Everything's in the green." He glanced at his watch. "Fifteen seconds until synchronization." He looked up from the console to me. "Do me a favor? Just keep looking this way. I'll tell you when it's okay to turn around." I arched a brow, but the sudden humming that appeared behind me stole my retort. I balled my hands into fists as I summoned the incredible amount of willpower not to turn around and look. I wasn't sure what was supposed to happen, I only hoped it didn't happen to me. "Three ... two ... one ... mark!" Jackson flipped a switch on the front of the panel. The steady hum from behind me instantly increased in pitch, turning into a loud buzzing that reminded me of a swarm of angry hornets. Then a flash, like that of a bolt of lightning, illuminated the room, causing Jackson to turn his face away for a moment. A second later, the cacophony returned to the low, steady hum from before. Barely audible in comparison to what it had just been. My friend glanced up to look over my shoulder, grinned one of the widest grins I'd ever seen him sport, then looked down at me. "Ta-da!" Jackson exclaimed as he pointed behind me. I turned around to face the mirror again. I saw Jackson standing behind his podium, waving one hand at me while his mouth stretched wide in the smile of an idiot. I lifted my own to wave back when I realized that he wasn't actually waving at me. He was waving at himself. I spun around to see Jackson standing there, both of his hands resting on the top of the lectern while he smiled at his own reflection. When I turned back, the mirror version had moved around and was now standing beside, rather than behind, his. "What in the hell?" I asked, staring at the oddity before me. How could the two Jacksons be in completely different poses and positions at the exact same time? Of course, that was when I realized something else. There was no me in the mirror anymore. Despite standing only a few feet directly in front of the polished, reflective surface, I was nowhere to be seen. "I don't get it," I said, my voice trembling a bit as I pointed at where I should have been. "How can you be standing differently in there? And where the hell am I? Why am I not in the mirror?" Slowly, I rotated away from the confusion sight to stare bewilderedly at my friend. Jackson held up one finger to his reflection, as if asking for a moment, then brought his attention over to me. "It's not a mirror, Charlie. I mean, it was, sort of, before I powered this baby up." He patted the side of the console. "Now it's a dimensional window." He pointed at the wall behind me. "What you were looking at is a parallel universe with a parallel Jackson Donahue." "Wait. You mean like in Star Trek?" I asked, referencing the classic episode where Kirk and Crew crossed into another universe filled with evil counterparts of themselves. "Let's hope not," he laughed. "However," he said in a highly suspicious tone, "there are some noticeable differences." I spun around and stared at the other Jackson and the room around him. At first glance, I had thought it looked exactly like it was supposed to. However, the more I looked, the more I noticed some subtle differences. For starters, the Other Jackson wore a dark blue NASA t-shirt instead of a red one, and his jeans were black, rather than blue. As for the lab, there was a little less clutter on the tables and floor. Not quite as many half- completed projects lying around willy-nilly. A comfortable-looking, black leather sofa against one wall. On this side of the window, that space was occupied by a metal worktable covered in scraps of electronics and a bunch of assorted tools. "This is totally weird," I said as I stepped closer to the window. Other Jackson had moved back around to stand behind his version of the control unit, studying the information it was obviously providing with the same expression of analysis I recognized rather easily. After a few seconds, he looked up to see me watching him and lifted his left hand to give me a little jaunty two-fingered salute. Then he dropped his arm and turned around to look in the direction of his lab's door. He said something to whoever it was at the door, but I couldn't hear anything. Then he glanced back to our world and began to wave his hand back and forth, his gaze focused on the world behind me. "Hey!" I said, not turning around. "I think your doppelganger is trying to get your attention. Can't you guys, like, communicate through a radio or something?" He gave his double a thumbs-up gesture, then looked over at me. "Negative. The Law of Conservation gets in the way. Nothing from here can go there and vice versa." "What about light?" I asked. "I mean, light is travelling between our universes." He shrugged. "I think it's because the same amount of light going in as is coming out. Maintains the balance. Radio waves, however, are one way. The one time we tried, it shorted out the connection." Jackson looked past me to his counterpart and laughed. "Okay, I think you probably need to prepare yourself for this, Charlie. If it threw me for a loop the first time I saw it, I know it's going to knock your socks off." He laughed again and gestured at the window. I turned back around to see that Other Jackson now had company. The girl, whom I assumed was the person he had been talking to, had her back to me as she stood in front of the podium and waved her arms about in an obviously agitated manner. Other Jackson had an admonished expression on his face and was responding by repeatedly opening his mouth, then closing it with a single nod. Since the two of them were engaged in a heated conversation, I took the opportunity to appreciate what I could see of her. She had long reddish-brown hair that was gathered up into a high pony tail that left the back of her slender neck exposed. The body below that neck was apparently used to physical activity, revealed by the lean, athletic build visible beneath the sleeveless gray nylon vest and matching yoga pants. Though I wasn't usually much of an "ass man", I did notice that hers was nicely shaped without protruding too much, and looked rather firm. The pink and green sneakers on her feet brought a bit of color to her attire, contrasting with the drabness of the rest. "She's cute, right?" Jackson said from behind me. I nodded. "Other you is a lucky guy." When the girl threw both hands into the air, I amended my assessment. "Or maybe not. She looks like she might be a bit of a complaining bitch." "Just hold that thought," he said laughing. The girl shook her head, sending her ponytail swaying, then turned around to face me. For a second, I was shocked into immobility. Then I blinked a few times, reaching up to rub at my confused eyes before resuming my stare at the person looking at me through the window. "Hold up. Is that ... Katie?" I asked as my mind whirled around at a million rpms. At first glance, the girl sure looked a hell of a lot like my sixteen-year old sister. Only older and more sporty. Like my own age. However, Katie was more of a book nerd than a jock, and had golden blonde hair like our mother. I thought she looked more pretty than beautiful, and I suddenly got a bit nauseous thinking that I'd been eyeing my sister's bottom. Well, maybe not my actual sister, but still more than close enough to matter. "Nope," Jackson said, still sounding rather pleased with himself. "That's not Katie, my friend. That's Charlene." "Charlene?" I asked, still staring at the girl staring back at me. She, too, wore a mask of utter shock and confusion. "Yep, Charlene," Jackson repeated. "Charlene Miller." My mouth dropped open and I nearly fell over. "Charlie for short." It wasn't a question, but a statement. Jackson laughed again. "Bingo! Apparently in that universe, it was one of your dad's swimmers who was an X-chromosome that won first prize in the fertilization race. So, instead of a boy named Charles, the first child in that Miller family was a girl they named Charlene." "What about Katie?" I asked, focusing on my sister so I wouldn't have to start pondering what my life as a female would have been like. "I don't know. Jackson Two Point Oh and I never discussed her. When we discovered that you two were so different, we both thought it would be hilarious to watch how you two reacted to seeing each other." I tried to force a smile on my face, hoping to erase the expressions etched on both our faces. She replied with a shrug, then rolled her eyes at me and nodded her head back toward her Jackson. Guess her version hadn't bothered to give her a heads up either. It was both comforting and annoying to discover that my ... our ... best friend could be a dick in multiple dimensions. Slowly, I raised my hand and gave her a little friendly wave. For a second, she just stared at my hand, blinking slowly. Then a smile formed on her face and she repeated the gesture. "Wait," I asked, not taking my eyes off my female self. "How did you two discuss it if you can't talk to each other?" Charlene's mouth also moved, though her gaze didn't waver. I wondered if she was asking the exact same thing of her Jackson. Despite the obvious physical differences, I couldn't help but wonder how much alike we might be. "We wrote messages back and forth on the rolling dry erase board," he replied. "Turns out there are a lot of people and events over there that are identical to stuff over here. You know, with some very obvious exceptions." "You're telling me," I said. "Hey, is it possible to turn the window into a door? Because going for a visit might be pretty cool." "Nope," he said, almost apologetically. "Law of Conservation, remember? Even if we could actually get enough exotic matter to force the gate open, having more matter in one universe than in the other would probably throw off the balance of the multiverse." He paused for a second. "In theory, at least." He laughed again. "Why? You weren't starting to wonder what it would be like to kiss yourself, were you?" I spun around and glared at him. "That's not funny," I growled. Even though that was exactly what I was wondering. After all, it wasn't every day you got to see what you would look like as a member of the opposite gender. And, for some reason, the thought of kissing myself was a lot more appealing than the thought of kissing my sister. Suddenly, the console behind Jackson began beeping rather loudly. The green light was flashing again, this time a scarlet red color. He ran over to stand behind it, a frown forming on his face. "What's wrong?" I asked. He shook his head. "Cascade failure. Must be some type of interference." I glanced over my shoulder to see Charlene's Jackson was also at his own control unit. Wearing the same exact frown. "Looks like they're having the same problem," I muttered. "It's the power flow," Jackson said. "It's decreasing for some reason. If it drops below fifty, we'll lose the connection." I suddenly became aware of a popping and crackling sound coming from behind me. I rotated around to see random sparks shooting out of the side of the window's frame, right next to where the green and yellow cable attached. "I think I see the problem," I said. Shifting my gaze over to the images coming from the other world, I realized that Charlene was also looking at the same spot on their side of the window. She glanced up, noticed me looking at her, and shrugged her shoulder with a worried smile. I guess she'd been the unlucky participant in these experiments as well. I gave her a thumbs up and moved over to the sparking cable, leaning down to study it. I was closer to the window than I'd previously been, and I noticed the entire unit was vibrating at an incredible pace. The rapid- fire tremors disturbed the air around the window and caused the hair on my arms and the back of my neck to stand on end. "The cable came loose again," I called back to Jackson. "One sec." I reached down with one hand toward the sparking cable as I placed the palm of my other hand on the glass surface before me. Just touching the thing made my whole body tremble. Like I was holding onto a really quiet jackhammer. I curled my fingers around the thick rubber insulation of the power cord. "What are you ..." Jackson began. "Charlie! No! Don't touch the ..." His words were drowned out as I gritted my teeth and shoved the connecting ring more securely in its socket. The millisecond the connection returned to its completely secure position, the gentle thrumming sensation running up the arm touching the window turned from "vibrant massage" to "direct lightning strike". A cacophony of explosions took place behind my open eyes as it felt like my entire body had just been dipped into the middle of a nuclear reactor. Every muscle in my body locked into place, leaving my jaw clenched so tightly that I expected molars to begin to crack and shatter. The agony spared no portion of my form. Even the tips of my hair seemed to become energized. A field of inky blackness formed in the periphery of my vision as my gaze swiveled enough to see that Charlene was likewise being electrocuted. Our hands were nearly palm-to-palm on the surface of the window. Then, after a little more than an eternity of pain, the darkness swarmed over my awareness to drag me down into the blessedly peaceful world of total unconsciousness. * * * * * * * * * * "Charlie?" Jackson's voice called through the stillness of the void from a hundred million miles away. Reaching out to me from somewhere past the other side of Mars. "Charlie?" he asked again, this time sounding a bit closer. Perhaps from somewhere in the upper stratosphere instead of interplanetary space. I reluctantly swam up from the calm, serene nothingness. Mainly because I knew if I didn't, Jackson would continue to say my name until I got completely annoyed and frustrated. My eyelids parted, and immediately closed again as the harsh light from the heavy-duty bulbs overhead stabbed right through the opening to pierce my brain. The dub throb hiding in the eaves rushed on stage, leaping into the spotlight with the intensity of a full Mariachi band. "Charlie," Jackson said again. "Say something." "Something," I croaked with a wince. The pounding in my temples made my voice sound weird and scratchy. "Ha-ha," Jackson replied. "Seriously, though. Open your eyes and look at me." I shook my head slowly from side to side. "Hurts." "Yeah," he said. "That was a hell of a shock you just took." I felt his hand on my shoulder. "Come on, Charlie. Open your eyes so I can make sure your brain didn't get fried." Against my better judgement, I cautiously reopened my eyes. I was lying on something soft. It felt like a blanket or something padded. I turned my gaze away from the lights to look at Jackson. He leaned over me, his face extremely close, and stared intently into my eyes. "Do you know where you are?" he asked. The heavy metal drum solo in my head continued to wow the imaginary crowd. "In hell," I groaned. Jesus, my ears must be seriously ringing. I didn't even sound like my normal self. "Well, after that jolt, I'm sure you might think that." A small smile formed on his face, but the tenderness of it really unnerved me. "You really scared the shit out of me, babe." "I scared the shit out of ..." I started to reply. Then his words squirmed their way through the out of control mosh pit between my ears. Well, one word in particular. Babe. Babe??? "What the hell?" I exclaimed, reaching up to push him away from me as I lurched up onto my feet. The change in latitude sent a tsunami of vertigo rolling though me. I swayed sideways, stumbling a bit. However, not all of it could be blamed on high voltage after-effects. The rest was totally the fault of my totally unexpected, completely different, center of gravity. I brought my hands up simultaneously to grab at the heavy lumps of flesh dangling from the front of my chest, my fingers kneading and squeezing in a rather uncomfortable, though not unpleasant, manner. "Tits!" I spun around to look at Jackson, who I had shoved half off the sofa. "I've got tits!" My voice still sounded a bit hoarse, but there was no mistaking the pitch. The baritone I was accustomed to hearing had been replaced by a rich soprano. Granted, one that was, at that moment, registering high on the scale. Jackson's mouth opened as one of his hands came up in supplication, but I was still in the beginning stages of the mother of all freak-outs. "My ass!" I added, one hand releasing the globe of flesh it had been fondling to reach around, past a very noticeable curving hip, to grab one side of my butt. It felt humongous in my hand. Though, as I soon realized, not just because the surface area of my posterior had increased. It seemed the inverse was true of the area of my palm. I let go of my butt and brought my arm back around, holding it out, palm away. The limb was a hell of a lot more slender than I remembered it being. However, it was the thin fingers topped with manicured nails painted a surprising shade of bubblegum pink that really sent me over the edge. "Oh shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!" "Charlie..." Jackson said in a voice that I thought was way too damned calm for the mega-disaster I currently found myself in. "Just calm ... I whipped my head in his direction, feeling a slight tug at the back of my skull that was immediately followed by the sensation of hair tickling the back of my neck. Long hair, too? The hand that I had been gawking at curled all of its fingers in except the index one. That particular digit I jabbed at Jackson as if stabbing him from several feet away. "You ... you and your stupid, insane experiments," I growled, taking a step toward him. "You turned me into a fucking girl!" He blinked at me, his head snapping back as if I'd actually slapped him. Which, as things were going, might be coming in the near future. He held up both hands, angling his head so that he could look into my eyes. "Charlie, the accident didn't turn you into a girl." I dropped the pointing arm away from indicating him to turn it to indicate the front of my pants. Particularly the extremely flat front of them, where I didn't need to look down to see that my dangling bits were no longer dangling in their proper places. "Oh really? Then why don't you tell me what happened to my dick then?" "Your dick?" His brow furrowed even more. "Jesus, Jackson! My dick is gone. I mean, I haven't shoved my hand down there yet, but considering I can't feel it and I've suddenly developed a set of boobs and a bubble butt, I think it's a pretty safe conclusion that I've been changed into a girl." I shook my head, feeling the hair brush my neck again. "Or do you have a differing opinion?" "Uh," he said, bringing one of his hands around to the back of his head and scratching at his scalp. "I think the problem isn't physical. I think the quantum feedback might have caused some, uh, neurological damage." "I don't have a brain problem, Jackson. I've got a lack of penis problem." "Charlie, just calm down and listen to me." He held out both hands again, as if warding off some evil monster. "You didn't turn into a girl because you've always been a girl." "What?" Now who was the crazy one? "I should have just gone home and studied. I swear to Christ, this is worse than when you turned me into a baby." "Charlene, listen to me. I think that ..." He stopped, blinking wildly again. "Baby?" At the same time, I took a half a step back and asked, "Charlene?" My head whipped around to stare at the lab around me. I'd been so wrapped up in dealing with the alterations to my body that I hadn't really paid attention to anything else. Like the black leather sofa on which I'd awoken and was now directly behind Jackson. Other Jackson. "Charlene, when did I turn you into a baby?" he asked, staring at me with a set of very wide eyes. "I'm over here," I breathed. "In her." The strength vanished from my legs and I collapsed to the floor, landing squarely on my new, slightly larger, ass. "Charlie!" Jackson said as he dropped all defensive preparedness and rushed over to kneel beside me. He snatched one of my hands in his and held it firmly as his fingers stroked along the back of it. "Talk to me." I felt my brain wanting to shut down. Either to reboot or just simply go into a blue screen of death. Turning my head, I ignored the comforting sensation of his fingers brushing against my skin and looked him in the eyes. "I'm not Charlene," I said in a near-whisper. "I'm Charlie. From the other side of the window." His fingers stopped in mid-stroke as his eyes widened even more. His head spun quickly to the left, looking over my shoulder to where I knew the window was attached to the wall. Then he looked back at me and shook his head. "That's ... not possible." He swallowed, using his other hand to point at the device. "That's only a window. Nothing can ..." "Nothing can come through except light," I finished. "Yeah, Law of Conservation." "So how did you ..." I stared at him incredulously. "Seriously?" The initial surge of panic was starting to recede. I wasn't calm and collected by any stretch of the imagination. I was, however, beginning to accept the fact that launching into a bout of screaming hysteria wasn't going to solve the issue. "I'm not the super-genius here, dude. If anyone can answer the 'why' or 'how', it's the guy who got his first doctorate when he was twelve." "It shouldn't be possible. I mean, the transference of matter across the dimensional gap would require more energy than the sun will ever produce and likely rip a hole in space-time." I shook my head. "But, I didn't transfer across. At least, not materially." I sighed and pointed at one of my boobs. "This isn't my body." Understanding of the specifics of my comment dawned upon him and he released my hand as he leapt to his feet. "It has to be a quantum entanglement." He began to pace back and forth inside a four-foot square. I recognized it as his 'thinking stride'. "Slow down," I said, slowly climbing back up off the floor myself. My butt ached where I'd landed on it, and the way various parts of my anatomy moved contrary to my expectations was really unnerving. "Quantum entanglement?" Jackson stopped pacing to look at me. "Charlene was touching the window at the moment of electrical induction. Were you also touching it on your side?" I didn't even have to try to remember. The image of my hand pressed against the cool, smooth surface was vibrantly clear. Two palms from two universes, pressed together. "Yeah," I said. "We were touching the same spot on our respective sides, actually." He just stared at me for a second, then began pacing again. "It might be an overlay of synaptic pathways. Perhaps a matter of cross- universal duplication of the neurological mapping suppressing the original parameters. Of course, that wouldn't account for the lack of self- awareness. However, if the subconscious still contained the base associations..." "Okay, Jay," I said, cutting him off as I closed my eyes for a second. The rapid explosion of techno-babble spewing from his mouth wasn't helping my still-lingering headache. "Slow down and speak English. Like, my kind of English." He stared at me for a second, then reached out and took my hand in both of his. As before his thumb glided softly across the back of my hand down to the wrist. "Be calm and quiet for a moment. Close your eyes." I did as he asked, trying to ignore the tingle his touch was sending up my arm. "Now, focus on yourself. Do you hear a tiny voice, somewhere in the back of your mind? Maybe a feminine one? Trapped and trying to get out?" My eyes snapped back open in a glare filled with daggers. "No. But I do hear a voice that says if you keep touching me like we're on a date, I'm going to kick you in the nuts." He dropped my hand like it was scalding and took a step back. "Sorry. I just thought that she might still be in there." "In where? My head?" He nodded. "There's no one in here but me, Jackson. I didn't possess Charlene. I'm not some kind of demon." He wagged his finger. "Now, we both know that demons are just physical manifestations of psychics with guilt issues. However, if the accident didn't copy your mind and memories over those of Charlene, then the only other logical explanation is that you two have swapped bodies." "Oh sure. That has to be the logical explanation." I said, not unimpressed with the way the sarcasm rolled off my feminine tongue. "How does someone swap bodies across dimensions?" Jackson shook his head. "It shouldn't be possible. Actually, it might be practically impossible. Except for a few, uh, specific factors." "Which factors?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. Then I immediately uncrossed them when I felt the added padding of my new body. "You were each in contact with a corresponding spot on the dimensional window. While that was taking place, you both, I assume, grabbed the power coupling and pushed it back into place?" I nodded. "So that allowed us to jump into each other like some screwed up Quantum Leap?" He shook his head. "Those two alone are necessary. However, there was one other factor that would be required. You both had the same amount of memory to transfer." "Explain that little bit," I said. "Because, I can promise you that I have no memories at all of being a chick." Jackson sighed. "That's not what I meant. Okay, remember conservation? You and Charlene are practically the same person." He held up his hand to stop my response. "Gender and resulting life experiences aside, you both had the same amount of ... mental energy." Then he pointed at me. "June 1, 2000 at 6:37 pm. Right?" I arched a brow. "That's my birthday. What about it?" He tapped his skull. "People accumulate mental ... files ... from the very moment they're born. Think of it like adding a new folder on a disc drive each day. No matter what you did that day, what you learned, the experiences you had, the folder for that day contained the same amount of data it." He pointed over at the mirror. "If any other two people had been touching the window at the moment they were electrocuted, they would have likely ended up being drooling vegetables. However, for you and Charlene, the files simply swapped drives." "That sounds a little like you're reaching, buddy." He shrugged. "I am. It's the best I can do in five minutes off the top of my head. It'll take me at least three days to parse what data I can salvage from the computers to make a more accurate hypothesis." "Three days??" I pointed at my chest. "Three days? Dude, I don't want to stay in this body for three hours. Let alone three days. Just turn the damned window back on, Charlene and I can recreate the incident, and I can be back home in time to study for Trig." "Professor Michaels?" he asked. "How ..." He grinned. "You and Charlene have more in common than you might think." "Whatever," I said. "Can we just try it and see if it works?" His smile faltered. "No, Charlie. I'm afraid we can't just try it out." He turned and walked over to the control podium. I followed and noticed there were still traces of smoke hovering around the top of the blackened panel. All of the lights on the unit were completely dark and the smell of scorched rubber permeated my nostrils. "The dimensional attunement facilitator is fried. Hopefully the data recorder is still intact." Then he pointed toward the mirror. "The feedback from the two of you crossing the gap caused most of the circuity in the window to short out." He sighed. "It will all need to be replaced." I balled my hands into fists, wincing a bit as the longer nails dug painfully into my palms. Turning around, I walked over to the window. As I got closer to the now normal reflective surface, I experienced a weird wave of vertigo. The girl walking toward me was creating a strange effect in my awareness. My eyes took in the image and my brain kept trying to process that image as both myself and someone else. After only a couple of seconds, I forced myself to look away from my reflection. Within a few moments, the eerie feelings vanished. I kept my eyes off the mirror and focused on the frame. The inlaid copper wires were melted in dozens of places and completely blackened in others. The wall around the power converter box was stained with burn marks. The stench was worse than it had been at the control panel. As loathe as I was to admit it, Other Jackson was right. The unit was a total mess. "Fine," I sighed, turning back to look at him. "I guess I can wing it as Charlene for a couple of days. I mean, how hard can it be to pretend to be a female version of myself for three whole days?" "Three days?" he asked, scrunching up his brow. "I think you misunderstood." He pointed over at the double rack of computer servers against the far wall. "I said it was going to take me at least three days to parse through all the data and figure out exactly what happened that put you in Charlene's body. As for any attempt to reverse the process ..." A cold lump formed in my stomach, and the urgent need to take a piss started to rear its head. "That's not going to be possible until the window and the control unit are fully repaired and the dimensional frequencies are re-synchronized." I felt my mouth drop open slightly as the images of the ruined podium panel and the window's frame stood out in it. "How ... long?" I forced the words to come out of my mouth, though I barely heard them over the pounding in my chest and head. I wouldn't have been surprised if I had simply passed out at that moment. Jackson slowly lifted his shoulders into a contrite, rather apologetic, shrug. "Two ... months," he said as he abashedly turned his eyes away from me. "At the minimum." My legs quit working again, returning me to the floor. "Two months," I repeated softly as my world came crumbling down around me. Author's Note: This particular scenario has been bouncing around in my head for over a year now. I've always been a fan of fiction involving parallel realities, but started to wonder what would happen if you swapped places, a la Quantum Leap, with a gender-opposite duplicate of yourself. What you just read is the first part of exploring that question. Warning, there will be some real-world physics in among the completely fictional technology. Mainly because I'm a humongous nerd at heart As always, reviews and comments are greatly appreciated. Either here or at [email protected].