G11 Mistaken Identity

by Sarah Bayen

Part One

 

Steve opened his eyes reluctantly, as the soft voice of the Machine called to him. He blinked a couple of times, without raising his head from the pillow, and, focusing slowly, looked around the familiar room. This would be the last time he slept in it. Soon the room itself would be no more, absorbed back into the superstructure of the ship for some future reuse. He was sad, sad to the point of depression. He had spent his entire life, all fourteen years of it, with this room and the adjacent living quarters as his home. Now that phase of his life was gone.

"Please rise and wash," the insistent monotone of the Machine called out softly. It was all very well for the Machine to be cheerful this morning, Steve thought. It hadn't seen its parents walk into the Cryogenic chamber the night before. He felt tears coming to his eyes, knowing that he would not see his mother or father again until he was nearly thirty, and that, with his own cryogenic slumber, could be a millennium in the future. His mother had held his hand and smiled, before turning to go through the door to the chamber. He had stood there with the other children and watched, a part of him screaming in rage that he should be orphaned in such a way. But he had been prepared for the moment almost since birth. He had known that when they were all fourteen, as they were now, their parents would enter the deep sleep to await planet fall, just as his grandparents had done just after he had been born. He had never known them, although his mother and father had told him many stories. They had actually known Earth before its destruction. He had often wished he could have spoken to them, and heard what the planet had been like, its glories, its triumphs, and its bitter destruction. Now it was all gone.

He stood by the side of the bed, stretched himself, and casually looked over to the chute through which his clothing would arrive, as it did every morning, provided by the Machine. The Machine, a triumph of technology, provided for all their needs during the long voyage. It would have been good to think that it was a product of Earth born minds, the final apogee of human ingenuity that had saved the species although the home world had been destroyed. But he knew that it was not so. The Machine and the ship had been gifts from the Others, an older race who had contacted Earth on the eve of its destruction, and offered the Machines as a solace. There had been twenty of them, a mere twenty to house the remnants of the human population. Of course not everyone had been saved. There were not the resources for such a venture. But his grandparents, and the grandparents of everyone else on each of the ships, had been specially selected for salvation for their particular skills. They had all been of an age, with young children in tow, children like his parents. Their skills and knowledge would be vital on the new world, when it was found, so once their own children began to breed themselves, they went into suspension, so that they could be revived on planetfall, whenever that might be.

It was sensible in another way too. The Machine had some limits in terms of the numbers of people it could reasonably care for. Thirty seemed to be the optimum number, so once he and the others of the first ship born generation had reached the cusp of puberty, their parents had agreed to follow the previous generation into suspension. That had happened the night before, and now Steve and his companions were alone in the void of the Universe, under the sole care of the Machine.

"Wash now," the soft voice of the Machine urged him. In the corner of his room was a small sink. He went over to this, already filled with water at precisely the right temperature, and washed his face. A clunk from the clothes chute told him that his clothing had been delivered. He went over to it, and picked it out, wistfully realising that this was the last time he would wear clothing selected by his mother.

His clothes were simple enough. They could, of course, choose almost anything, and the Machine would create it for them. Some of the girls wore fantastically elaborate costumes in a myriad of colours and textures, drawn from the images from the Fantasy database, which his mother had proudly told him was really called a Library. Steve, like most of the boys, preferred the simple and practical. He slipped on a loose fitting shirt, and a comfortable pair of trousers, and once this was done, put on what his father had always called gym shoes, although the Machine seemed to have no name for them.

"Please make way to the Main Assembly area for briefing," the Machine told him. "Remember to take anything you require from this living area. This living area is scheduled for recycling."

The reminder was stark and without emotion. His Mum had helped him sort out some mementos of his childhood the night before. They had gone through his things together, smiling at shared memories, and crying at the lost of innocence. He had taken his teddie bear, imaginatively called Ted; a picture of his Mother and Father and him together, smiling and hugging each other, and a selection of other toys and ornaments. He had a scarf his mother used to wear, and a necktie from his father, and a letter from each of them, which he was to open on his twenty-first birthday. They had all been carefully packed into a little blue bag, which lay, by the side of his bed. He stared down at it grimly, and took hold of the handle, hesitating before picking it up.

"Please make way to the Main Assembly area for briefing."

He looked longingly around the room, and walked over to the door, through to the main living quarters he had shared with his parents. He dared not look too closely at the décor, the pictures of lost Earth, or the other things there. He stared fixedly at the exit door to the corridor, to ensure he was not distracted, but it was no use. A sense of loss and bereavement overcame him, and he felt warm sticky tears fall onto his cheeks.

He breathed deeply and shut his eyes. There was no way he wanted the others to see him like this. He had to be brave, they all did. That's what his parents would have wanted. And it was not as if they were dead, not at all. He would see them all again once they had reached planetfall, when the Machine had found a world that was suitable for them to live on. Then, he would see his parents again, and meet his grandparents. He could ask them all about Earth as they set about building anew. Composing himself, but still refusing to look around the room, he opened the door and walked out into the corridor.

Quite a few of his companions were already making their way to the Main Assembly. He nodded to Janet, his next-door neighbour; C5, as the machine insisted on calling her. The Others had no real concept of names, and had designated to everyone either a C number, meaning child, or A for adult. Janet was C5 and he was C19 as far as the Machine was concerned. She smiled wistfully back at him, and shut the door to her apartment behind her.

"Are you okay?" he asked her. She shut her eyes tightly as she closed the door on her past, and he knew the loss she was experiencing, feeling it intensely himself. She simply nodded, and briskly made her way ahead of him in the direction of the Main Assembly.

He saw some others as he made his way to the designated place. No one seemed anxious to talk, lost in their own thoughts as the Machine impatiently urged them all forward along the narrow white passageways out of the residential zone. He entered the Main Assembly area, and saw that nearly everyone was there. He took a few steps into the large room, and looked around anxiously for his friends. Richard was at the front, and lifted an arm to wave to him. Relieved, Steve moved over to his best friend, and smiled.

"Hi," he said. They had not spoken since the day before yesterday. Yesterday had been for families. Families alone for the last time. Richard's dark eyes looked at him from beneath his rather odd fringe. For once, the mischief was entirely missing. He obviously missed his Mum and Dad already.

"How you doing?" Richard asked, his eyes darting around the room, rather than look at Steve, in case an honest answer was forthcoming.

"Fine," Steve replied. "We might as well sit down."

"Sure."

They selected a couple of chairs facing forward, and sat on them, staring at the blank plasma screen in front of them. Both folded their arms, and said nothing. Steve heard a sobbing from the back. He didn't bother to turn around. It was one of the girls, obviously overcome with emotion at her newly-orphaned status.

"What do you think will happen?" Richard asked him, without looking.

Steve shrugged. "Dunno really. Suppose the Machine will just tell us what happens next."

Richard was silent for a while, considering this. "I saved my Console," he muttered. "We can have a game of Aliens in a minute."

"Sure."

They were silent again for several minutes. Richard began whistling between his teeth, and the seats around them gradually filled up with their companions on the voyage. "Do you reckon we'll get new quarters of our own," Richard mused, "or will we be stuck in dormitories?"

"Dunno," Steve replied, looking across at two girls, Karen and Sarah, sitting down near them. It had been Sarah who had been crying; he could see that by the streaks on her face. Karen, taller, solicitously placed her arm around the other girl's shoulders, and looked across at Steve grim faced. He quickly looked away. Even at fourteen, he knew that it did not do to interfere in some things between girls.

"Wotcha," a voice shouted. He looked up. It was Bryn, who sat himself down next to Richard. "This is boring isn't it?"

"Yeah," they both replied, before lapsing into silence again.

"Hey guess what," Bryn whispered, leaning forward so that they could share in his secret. Steve looked at the blond boy, slightly taller than him, and dressed in a smart jacket. "My Dad gave me some condoms last night," he confided. "He said I might need them sooner or later!"

Steve thought about this. "But the Machine would always give you some," he reasoned.

"I know," Bryn agreed. "But it can be a bit of a prude sometimes can't it? I bet it won't let us have any condoms until we're sixteen, so I reckon these will be like gold dust soon!" He smiled, patting the top pocket of his jacket. "They say they go out of date after a while, but I still think they'll be okay." He looked very pleased with himself as he sat back upright.

Richard began to whistle again, and for the want of anything better to do, Bryn and Steve hummed along to the tuneless tune, adding their own unharmonic harmonies and drifting into absurd falsetto. A few moments of this were enough, and the three of them burst into fits of laughter.

"Oh for God's sake have a little respect!" Steve looked across the seats to see Karen glaring at the three of them. "Can't you see that there are people here who are upset?"

Karen had a maturity beyond her years, and, although the general opinion among the boys was that she was a goody two shoes, Steve secretly admired her, and her ability to get along with the adults. Not that she would need that now, of course, with all the adults in suspension, but there was something about her that made him look up to her, other than her height.

"Please pay full attention," the Machine intoned. The plasma screen that took up the whole of the front wall began to flicker into life. For some reason the Machine had decided from the first that, when it wished to make an announcement, it ought to have some visual representation of itself to make the communication easier. Silence fell across the hall, as the head of what Steve had always assumed to be one of the Others gradually formed itself. It was bald, and pale to the point of white. Its eyes were lidless, and, so far as they had any colour at all, purple. Steve idly wondered whether the Others really looked like this, or whether this was just the Machine's interpretation of its makers.

"Thank you for being here," the face, now with the Machine's voice, told them. "You must now prepare for the next phase of your existence, which will prepare you for the breeding process." There were mutters of concern, particularly from the girls, at the Machine's lack of subtlety. "Planetfall will require many humans. You must therefore breed before going into suspension," it stated baldly. "You will also receive further training in some of the skills and processes likely to make planetfall successful." The Machine paused. "The whole phase should take in the region of eight of your Earth years."

There were further mutterings at this. "I'm not sure we're ready to breed yet Machine," Karen told it, standing up to emphasise the point. Steve looked at her, with her long, fair and wavy hair tied back neatly at her neck. Her bright blue eyes gazed at the screen. The Machine always seemed to find questions and interruptions difficult, and it was silent for a moment.

"I'm ready to breed whenever Jacquie wants to," Bryn whispered, leaning forward. Steve looked around the room for the girl in question, generally accepted as the best looking of them all. She was near the back, next to Gloria. She saw Steve turn around, and smiled at him. Quickly he looked back to the screen, embarrassed.

"Agreed," the Machine said at last. "You are not yet ready to breed. That is why this phase is to prepare you for the breeding process." Over in one of the corners, a couple of the boys giggled at some interpretation of this. Karen glared briefly at them, and sat down.

"Continuing," the Machine announced. "First all children will be checked for defects, and re-designated. You will then be allowed to take up your new living quarters." As the machine fell silent, there were mutters and whispers around the hall. "Two rooms are available for the checking process," the Machine went on. "First C1 and C2. Please." It added as an afterthought.

Blue lights appeared over two doors at either side of the plasma screen, and the face on it froze. Bryn stood up. He was C2. "See you in a minute," he said. "If I pass that is." He edged past Steve and Richard, and up to the door on the left. As he did so, a small dumpy girl called Ellen, who was C1 walked through the door to the right. The whole room watched them fascinated for a moment, before conversation broke out again.

"What does re-designation mean?" Steve asked.

"Dunno," Richard responded. "Maybe we get to be adults now."

"Suppose so."

They were silent again for a good few minutes, sitting in the semi darkness of the hall, looking at the now portrait like representation of the Other, and with their arms folded. "I'll help you get ready to breed if you want, Karen," he heard a voice call. It was Roger, another of Steve's friends.

"Don't be so childish," Karen responded, without even bothering to look. At that moment, Ellen re-entered the room in a new set of clothes. Steve hadn't really noticed what she had been wearing before, but it had certainly not been anything out of the ordinary. What she had on now was. She wore a crisp white blouse, and a short grey pleated skirt, nothing Steve had ever seen before except in the Fantasy database, when he had read stories about what had been called schools on Earth. Evidently the Machine had decided that part of their preparation for breeding was to wear old-fashioned school uniform.

There were gasps around the hall, and then some unkind laughter from some of the boys. Ellen blushed, and rushed back to her place, next to her friend Janet, who only that morning had been Steve's next door neighbour. "C3," the Machine intoned. Then Bryn re-emerged through the door. Aware that all eyes were on him, he stood framed by it and smiled. "Hey," he called out. "I'm now B1! That means I'm the number one boy!"

There were groans in response to this, as he sauntered across the room, dressed now in long black trousers, black shoes, and a shirt as crisp and neat as Ellen's blouse. In addition he had a red necktie neatly tied into place. Seeing this, Steve thought of the legacy from his father, and felt to make sure his blue bag, with its memories of his childhood was still there.

"C4 please," the Machine intoned, and the process went on. It soon became apparent that the new designations were G for girls, and B for boys. The purpose of the gender specific uniforms was not at all clear, although Sylvia suggested that the Machine was a pervert who liked looking at girls in skirts.

Bryn did his tour of glory around the hall, and eventually came back to sit next to them. "What was it like?" Richard asked him eagerly.

"Terrible," he replied, and then laughed. "Not really, but it was a bit weird. You have to strip off, and get poked about by all sorts of metal things. Still, it didn't hurt. Much!" he added, and laughed again.

"C8," the Machined intoned. That was Richard. Looking a little queasy, he stepped forward and walked up to the door.

"Good luck," Steve told him. Each child was taking about five minutes to process, so it was a long and boring session for most of them. Richard had got his console out, and left it on his seat. Steve busied himself killing a few aliens for a while, before his friend returned complete with his new uniform. He held out his hand to have the machine back, and with some reluctance, Steve gave it to him.

There was a cheer around the room. Steve looked up, Jacquie was emerging back into the room, looking more beautiful than ever in the uniform. Most of the girls had looked a little frumpy in theirs, but somehow Jacquie managed to impart it with glamour and allure. She knew this, and smiled at the boys as she made her way to her seat at the back, next to the almost as attractive Gloria.

Steve reverted to watching Richard deal with the aliens mercilessly. Ship after ship of their invasion force was obliterated in a rain of laser fire expertly and deftly orchestrated by his friend. "C18," the Machine droned. Looking up, he saw Nicola stand, and nervously make her way to the door. He would be next. In spite of himself, he felt his heartbeat increasing, and his palms begin to sweat. He refused to look at the doors, reasoning against reason that this would somehow delay the moment when he would have to step forward into one or other of them.

One of the doors opened, and a new Mandy appeared, smiling in some sort of relief that she had come through unscathed. Re-orientating herself, she looked around the room, and then made her way over to her friend Karen. The blue light above the now vacant side room began to flash. "C19" the Machine announced. Steve's legs felt weak for a moment, and he hesitated.

"Go for it!" Bryn said, patting him firmly on the back. Steve managed a smile, and stood, then hesitated again before walking across to the waiting door. He pushed the button by the side to open it, and breathed deeply before walking in. It was small, hardly enough room for him and the machinery within it, which quickly re-arranged itself to surround him.

"Welcome C19. Please undress."

With some reluctance, he took off his loose and comfortable clothing. Smart though the new uniform looked, he knew that its crispness would mean that it was not as comfortable as the clothes he was used to. Once he was naked, probes emerged from the machinery, and a net of wires fell from the ceiling onto his head. He felt some discomfort, but no pain. The net on his head in particular seemed to invade his mind, making him feel dizzy, and a little nauseous. One of the probes held his penis and testicles, which alarmed him, but after a cursory examination, they let go once more.

"Thank you C19. Your health is good." The Machine informed him. Well that was a relief anyway. "Your new designation will be available shortly." There was a pause. Steve was bored now, and wanted to get back to his friends, so that they could all go and look at their new living quarters.

"Your new designation is now available," the Machine told him. "You will now be G11." A sudden cold sensation hit his mind. What had the Machine said?

"Can you repeat please?" he asked.

The Machine, unused to interruptions, began to whir to itself. "Request accepted," it said at last. "Your new designation is G11."

"No!" Steve gasped. "There's been some mistake!"

The Machine whirred to itself again, and there were some clunks from the machinery around him. "No mistake has been made," it asserted. "Your uniform will be available shortly. Please dress, and return to the Main Assembly." Steve was speechless for a moment. The stupid Machine had decided he was a girl! Any moment now a girl's uniform would appear, and it would expect him to put it on. He wasn't having this.

"I'm not a girl!" he shouted. The Machine did not respond. Instead, the machinery let him free of its embrace, and on the floor, a neat package of clothes appeared. "I'm not a girl," he repeated. "You've made a mistake."

The Machine whirred to itself again. "Please make haste," it intoned. "There are others to classify."

He stared at the blank walls, and almost wished the Machine would give itself a face for him to rant at. "No!" he shouted again. "I'm not a girl. You've classified me as a girl, and I'm not!"

The whirring continued for ten or more seconds before the Machine responded. "Incorrect," it concluded. "Your classification is female."

"But I'm a boy! You even grabbed my cock!"

Another ten seconds passed. "Please dress and return to the Main Assembly," the Machine repeated.

"But this is ridiculous. Can't you see that you've made a mistake, you stupid bloody machine? Look!" In defiance, he grabbed hold of his penis, and thrust it at the wall in a futile gesture. The Machine whirred to itself again for fifteen seconds, and Steve began to feel a sense of relief that it was now recognising its error, and preparing to correct it.

"Gender diagnosis correct," it droned eventually. "The anomalies in your genitalia have been noted."

"What do you mean anomalies!" he demanded. "It's my cock!"

The Machine allowed itself only a few seconds whirring, and responded quickly. "Please dress and return to the Main Assembly. Further refusal will not be tolerated."

Steve was incensed. How could the Machine ignore the evidence that was still in his hand! "Is this some sort of joke?" he asked with bitter sarcasm. The Machine chuntered to itself, as if considering the matter.

"No humour is intended. Gender diagnosis has been checked. Diagnosis is female. Genital anomalies will be corrected before breeding commences. Please dress and return to the Main Assembly."

Steve made no move, just glaring at the blank wall in front of him. He glanced down at the pile of clothes, neatly folded. On top was a pair of what were very evidently girl's pants, edged with pink cotton. No way on God's Earth was he going to put them on! "Please dress and return to the Main Assembly area. Further refusal will not be tolerated," the Machine repeated in its metallic monotone. Steve did not reply. He wracked his brains to think of how he might appeal the decision. Until the day before, he would simply have asked his mother or father to intervene. That was not possible now. The Machine appeared impervious to reason, or at least reason as Steve recognised it. It had its own logic, but was rarely swayed from its purpose.

"Refusal assumed," the Machine suddenly announced, and the machinery around him clasped his body again, and lifted him off the floor. His arms and legs were locked in place, and for a moment, he was scared that the Machine was going to inflict him genuine harm. Then he felt something brushing against his feet, held rigid by unseen clasps within the machinery. The something moved slowly and evenly up his legs. The bloody thing was dressing him!

"No!" he screamed again. "I'm not a girl!" He struggled uselessly against the grip of the Machine, as he felt the pants being put into place. The damn thing had made him wear girl's knickers! He felt his arms being thrust forward, and something being slipped over them. It was gently pulled up, and slipped around his chest. This was even worse! He was being made to wear a bra. Surely the Machine could see that he didn't have a chest, what was wrong with the thing? He felt elastic constricting around his chest as the bra was put in place. Without pause, he felt cotton of a blouse being slipped over his back and arms. This was becoming a nightmare!

"Let me go!" he shouted again, to no avail. The Machine turned its attention to his legs, and he felt something else slipping up towards his waist. The skirt! Oh God no, he thought to himself, don't let it make me wear a skirt, I'll never live it down!

But it was no use. The Machine had determined on its purpose, and the skirt, still invisible to him, was fixed around his waist. Steve began to panic. How was he going to avoid being seen like this? He would hardly have time to rip all these stupid feminine clothes of himself before the door opened, and, even if he did, he would then be standing in front of everyone else naked. Tears of anger and frustration began to form in his eyes.

"I want my Mum!" he screamed. The Machine ignored him, and he judged by the sensations within the machinery holding him in its emotionless embrace, was now placing shoes, no doubt girl's shoes, on his feet. There was a slight pause, and a hiss as the Machine relaxed its grip on him.

"Please return to the Main Assembly area, and await further instructions."

He felt his feet hit the floor, and another hiss as the door behind him opened. He was fixed to the spot, knowing that as soon as he was seen, he would be the object of unremitting ridicule. Uncaring, the Machine revolved the floor, so he was facing out into the hall. The other children were in little groups, talking to themselves, and hadn't noticed him yet. He breathed in deep, ready for the storm, and in spite of himself, looked down. His worst fears were realised. He was dressed as the girl the Machine had decided he was, with the crisp white blouse and grey pleated skirt.

"Oh my God look!" he suddenly heard from the room. As the Machine pushed his feet forward, twenty odd pairs of eyes turned first in the direction of the speaker, Janet, and then following her gaze, at him.

There was an eerie silence for a moment. "My God what's happened?" he heard someone say. Then there was an awkward giggle from one of the girls, which was picked up gradually by everyone. Blushing furiously, his re-emergence from his assignment process was then greeted by a cacophony of laughter.

His face flushed scarlet and hot, and he stood rooted to the spot, the centre of attention for the whole hall. "C29" the Machine summoned, but no one paid it any attention. He saw Richard walk up towards him. "What's happened Steve?" he asked. "Didn't you tell it you were a boy?"

"Of course I bloody did!" he spat in reply. "The bloody thing wouldn't believe me!"

He was quickly surrounded by people anxious to get a closer view of him. The humour of the situation was welcomed by the group, still stunned from their loss of the night before.

"Oh my!" he heard Janet say, as she surveyed him, paying careful attention to his legs. "I should never have made you play with my dolls when we were little." There was a renewed chorus of laughter at this.
"Why did it think you were a girl?" Sarah asked him, her tears from earlier now replaced with a smile.

"I don't bloody know!"

"Let me see," he heard. This voice was Jacquie's, the best looking girl of them all. That was all he needed. The crowd parted for her, and her crony, Gloria. He held his head glumly downwards, as she looked him over for a few seconds. "Well you've got better legs than me," she announced eventually, with a broad grin. There were one or two grunts of agreement, and a general snigger at Jacquie's observation.

"C29" the Machine repeated.

A boy called Charles reluctantly parted from the crowd, and walked to the room Steve had just evacuated. Steve glared at him. He was generally the main target of the bullying that sometimes went on. It should have been him who had been mistaken for a girl, Steve thought. Just at that moment he felt a hand on his thigh, he turned around quickly, and shoved it away. He glared at the perpetrator who had been trying to lift his skirt, Colin. "I was only trying to look!" the other boy protested, with an evil sneer. He was no taller than Steve, but heavier built. Steve wondered for a moment whether to hit him, but discretion proved the better part of valour.

"I've not been in yet," a girl called Lynne said, standing close to him and musing to herself. "I hope it doesn't mistake me for a boy."

"No," agreed Gloria. "That would be awful."

There was a chorus of 'yeahs' of agreement from the assembled crowd.

"Well it's better than being a boy mistaken for a girl," Bryn suggested. "At least you lot used to wearing trousers. I bet Steve's never worn a skirt before!"

"No I haven't!" Steve snapped in agreement.

"Well that's not entirely true," Janet observed, looking at him with a cheeky grin on her face. Luckily for Steve, no one seemed to have heard her. There was a hubbub of conflicting opinions for a moment, as everyone expressed their views on which was worse, a boy being mistaken for a girl, or a girl being mistaken for a boy. The crowd expressed predictably gender-defined views. Richard moved a little closer to Steve.

"What are you going to do?" he asked.

"I don't know," Steve replied. "But I'm not staying like this."
"I don't blame you." Richard replied, with a pitying look on his face. "I'm glad it wasn't me, that's all I can say."

"Are you wearing a bra as well?" Steve closed his eyes and grimaced. It had only been a matter of time before someone commented on the shape visible beneath his blouse. "Oh yes, he is!"

"Well it's not my fault!" he responded, rounding on Sylvia, who had made the comment. She was a tall girl, with long dark hair. As he glared at her, she had a fixed grin on her face, seemingly pleased at his discomfort.

"Perhaps he's wearing girl's knickers as well!" her friend, Sandra, by her side suggested. There was another chorus of giggles. Sandra was large. Not tall, but wide, with a frame suggesting that her size was more than just puppy fat.

"He's bound to be! The Machine wouldn't have given him boy's pants would it?" Sylvia agreed. "How sweet!" Steve glared at her again. Why did she have to state the obvious, so that everyone could take pleasure in his shame?

"Let's have a look!" someone asked.
"No," he spat, but felt himself surrounded on all sides by people suddenly anxious to raise his skirt to investigate. He was saved by the swish of the door he had been through. Charles re-emerged into the room, wearing the new boy's uniform complete with tie. Steve hated him at that moment, and felt like rushing over to take it off him and give him the ridiculous clothing he had been made to wear. The other boy smiled at him in triumph, and walked casually across the room to his friends who would protect him from any assault by Steve.

"C30," the Machine announced, and Lynne detached herself from the throng to go to the room. C30 was the last number in the old designations, so the reassignment process must nearly be complete.

"Will you stop that?" Steve shouted, as he fended off another attack on his skirt by an over eager hand. "It's not funny."

"I don't know about that," Jacquie said, smiling at him. "I've had enough of you boys trying to do it to me over the years. It's good to see how you like it."

"Yeah," several girls agreed.

Steve tried to separate himself from the crowd, but it just seemed to follow him across the room. "Do something will you?" he snapped at Richard. "I don't want them looking up my skirt!"

The other boy looked at Steve, and tilted his head to one side. "I don't know what I can do," he said, helplessly.

"Oh no!" they suddenly heard a voice call. "It's happened again."

The heads of the crowd turned to the second door, which had just opened. Standing, framed within it, was Karen, tall and elegant, but dressed in the new boy's uniform. There were gasps from everyone. "It thinks Karen's a boy!" someone said, rather unnecessarily. Karen's face spoke thunder as she stepped across the room, and walked towards them. She stared at him, and continued to approach.

"Looks like it's got us mixed up," she said, when she got there. Steve gulped, and nodded in response. Her eyes held his for a moment, and then looked down at his blouse and skirt. Unlike the others, there was no amusement on her face as she did so.

"We'll have to get this sorted out," she went on.

"I agree," said Steve, and their eyes held each other's again, somehow making Steve feel nervous.

A swish announced the opening of the left hand door, which revealed Lynne, dressed as Steve was. She smiled nervously, and came to join them. The reassignment process was complete. Steve returned his gaze to Karen, who stood in front of him, still examining him. It made him feel rather vulnerable and naked. Perhaps she blamed him in some way for their predicament, which was hardly fair. He opened his mouth to speak, but the Machine stopped him before any words could emerge.

"B numbers should proceed through the door to the left, and G numbers through the door to the right," it announced. "You will proceed to your new living quarters, and be briefed further later in the day."

Two new doors emerged in the walls on either side of the hall. The children began moving in small groups towards them, leaving Karen and Steve increasingly isolated in the Main Assembly. "Are you coming?" Richard asked him, tugging on his arm. His eyes did not leave Karen's.

"Not for a minute," he replied. "We need to sort this out."

Richard stayed for a moment, and eventually shrugged, moving to the designated B door. A few moments later, and he and Karen were alone. "This is a right mess," she said, unlocking his eyes, and walking to and fro. "Is it some sort of trick of yours? I know what you're like. You're always trying out stupid practical jokes. Well this one's not funny. Just put it right."

"It's nothing to do with me!" Steve protested. He was hardly innocent of all childish pranks, but he would never willingly have got himself humiliated like this. She turned to stare at him, her eyes betraying their doubt.

"Well I'm not spending the rest of my life as a bloody boy, that's for sure," she hissed.

"Me neither," Steve quickly put in, too quickly, he realised, and then corrected himself. "As a girl that is, I mean."

She circled around him, looking at him thoughtfully. Dressed as he was, he found this discomforting.

"Well I suppose we can sort out the clothes thing right anyway," Karen muttered to herself. "Come on, let's swap. I don't mind wearing trousers, but the other girls are going to get jealous if I'm the only one who is."

"Yes," agreed Steve, hastily. His spirits soared, as this unexpected salvation came his way.

"I'm not sure I'll fit into your blouse," she mused, looking at him. "You're a lot smaller than me."
"Yes," Steve whispered again. Escaping from the skirt would be relief enough, he could cope with wearing a blouse for a few hours.

"And my trousers are going to be too long for you. Still, I suppose you could turn them up or something."

"Yes," Steve agreed again, rather anxious that Karen seemed to be proving her own plan less and less workable. "Let's do it."
Karen nodded, and bent down to take off her rather masculine shoes. Steve did the same, and unbuckled the little black sandals the Machine had given him.

"Let's have a look," Karen asked, holding out her hand. Steve gave him one of the sandals, which Karen then placed against the sole of her shoes. She shook her head. "It's no good," she said. "I can't wear these. They're too small. We'll have to keep the shoes we've been given, as well as the blouses."

Steve looked nervously at her, and nodded. He didn't mind about the shoes, not that much anyway, as long as he could get rid of the skirt. Karen slipped her trousers down, and revealed boy's pants underneath. Perhaps she'd be willing to take his knickers as well, Steve thought. He struggled with his arms behind his back, but was unable to unfasten the button on the skirt.

"Shall I help?" Karen offered.

"Yes please," Steve replied, turning his back to her. She quickly unfastened the button, and with a palpable sense of relief, Steve slid the skirt down his legs and off. He sighed as it hit the floor, and he kicked it to one side.

"Careful," Karen admonished him. "I've got to wear that you know."
"Yes, I'm sorry," he replied, walking over to retrieve it. He handed it out to the girl, who was now looking down at his lower body.

"I suppose you want to swap underwear as well?" she demanded,

He nodded, and looked at her for a response. "Okay," she said, "come on, let's do it."

They both pulled down their pants, and handed them over to each other. It felt strange to put on clothes that were warm from someone else's body, but Steve felt a surge of relief as he slipped himself into the masculine garment. So keen was he to do this, that he missed the opportunity to see a girl naked.

"What about the bra?" he asked.

Karen looked at him, and considered this for a moment. Then she shook her head. "It won't fit me," she told him. "Your chest isn't as big as mine, it won't go around me. You can take it off if you want though."

"Oh God yes!" he exclaimed, unbuttoning his blouse to get to it. Karen watched him for a few seconds, and then stepped into the skirt.

"It's a bit tight," she said, struggling with it. "Very tight in fact. Tut, I'll have to leave it undone, and see if I can fix it up in some way later." Steve hungrily ripped off his blouse, and putting his arms behind him searched frantically for the clasp on the bra. Karen was still musing about the skirt. "It's a bit bloody short as well. I'm taller than you I suppose, that's why it looks so short on me."

He glanced over to her, briefly pausing his wrestling match against his bra. It did look short on her, ridiculously so, as well as rather too tight. Still, better that it was on her than him. He began to struggle with his bra again.

"Come here," the girl said to him. "I'll do it. It's not easy unless you've practiced is it?"

Steve stepped over to her, and turned his back on her again. "No," he agreed. "Still, I won't need to do it again will I?"

He felt another surge of relief as she unfastened it, and pulled it down his arms for him. "Perhaps not," she said. "But we do need to sort this all out. Otherwise next time the Machine gives us clothes, it's going to be the same."

"Yeah," Steve agreed

He turned to face her again, and her blue eyes held his again for a few seconds. "You'd better get your blouse back on then," she suggested. "Then we can go and look at the new living quarters."

He smiled, and nodded, picking up the discarded top, and slipping himself into it again. He began to do up the buttons, but, being on the unfamiliar side, he had difficulty. "I'll do that if you want," Karen said, coming towards him. He nodded, and allowed his hands to drop to his sides. Gently and carefully, she did up the buttons, leaving the top two undone.

"Thanks Karen," he said, picking the trousers up off the floor, and stepping into them. Karen had been right; they were absurdly long, and rather too big around the waist. Nevertheless, they were trousers, and not a skirt. He turned up five or six inches at his ankles, and had to clasp them around his waist with his hands. Perhaps he could find a belt or something to hold them up better when he got to the new living quarters. Bending down, he put his stupid buckled shoes back on, and stood again, surprised to see Karen still looking at him with a strange expression on her face.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

Her eyes came back into focus. "Yeah," she said. "I was just thinking. Anyway, let's get off to the living quarters now. We need to think how to persuade the Machine to put this right. I'll give it some thought, but you have to as well." He nodded in agreement. "All right, well I'll catch up with you later, and we'll try and make a plan."
"Yes," he agreed. He moved over to the door designated for the B numbers, while she moved in the opposite direction. Half way across he paused, and turned. "Karen," he said. She halted, and turned to face him again. "Thanks for this," he said, with genuine gratitude. "I never want to wear a skirt again."

Karen smiled at him. "We'd best get thinking then, hadn't we? See you later then Steve."

Steve watched her go through the door, and, turning, went through the still open door that had been designated for those with a B number.

  

  

  

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