NOTE:
This story takes place in the Exodus universe, first described in"G11:
Mistaken Identity" by Sarah Bayen (which I highly recommend). Some of the
statements by the Machine duplicate those in that story, due to the nature of
the Machine. Author's Guidelines for that universe are available by request
from Sarah Bayen at bayensarah@yahoo.com.
G 15
Classified
By DrBill and Jezzi Stewart
Chapter Four
------
John
He was in bed, but the room seemed different. Much larger. He was on top of Janey, about to enter her again. His eyes were drawn to her breasts and her belly. As he tried to look lower, he saw that he was positioned to enter her. As he did so, she sighed happily and wrapped her hands around his neck. She pulled him to her breasts, and they became his world. As he thrust in and out of her, he felt her pulling away. Her voice came to him, but it seemed to come from outside of her. "John always was kind of a girl," she said. Startled, he pulled away from her. He felt a strange pulling sensation at his groin. "I remember that time when she..." she continued. He looked down at where they had been joined, and saw that his genitals had been pulled away from his body. Frightened, he looked at her face. It was the face of the Machine.
He woke up screaming. As he sat up in bed, he saw he was in his new, spartan dorm room. Janey was sitting beside him, looking surprised and concerned. Shaking, he reached down and verified that everything was where it was supposed to be. And Janey had her real face. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I had a nightmare."
Janey nodded her understanding, and wrapped him in a hug. Her skin against his comforted him, as did the way she gently rocked him. After he had calmed a bit, he realized another pressing need. "Bathroom," he muttered, blushing.
She nodded her understanding, and he went into the bathroom. When he emerged, she took his place. When she returned, they cuddled together on his bed and fell back asleep.
Marie
She was surrounded. The walls of the fort were weak on the left and on the right. She knew they were out there, waving their spears and looking for a way in. She knew that if one of those spears touched her, it would be the end of her. No more pretty dresses. No chance of ever becoming a mother. No more talking long into the night with her girlfriends. She became more afraid, feeling them pressing in on the walls. She was all alone, and surrounded. Only the thin walls of the fort kept them out. But as she became more afraid, she started to hear something. "Maybe I really was a boy," she heard herself say. "I remember that time when I..."
She found herself whirled away, and the dream itself became less distinct. She settled back into a less troubled sleep.
John
"Please rise and wash"
Slowly coming awake, he became aware of the warm body sharing his bed. Janey. He smiled, thinking about other times they had shared a bed. He snuggled up to her, enjoying the familiar comfort. When his morning erection brushed against the soft warmth of her bottom, it brought back other memories. Last night. The wonders of sex.
He felt her moving as well. "Morning, sleepy head," he greeted her gently as he snuggled closer.
"Morning. Hey! watch where you put that thing. It might be loaded."
"It's always like that in the morning. Well, maybe not as much when I'm not sharing the bed with a sexy girl." He grinned.
"Yeah, right," she dismissed the compliment. She stretched her arms above her head, yawning. She looked around, then said "Darn. I'd better get back to my room before someone sees me. She gave him a quick hug, then slid out of bed.
"Janey..." he began. She put a finger over his lips.
"Not now. We'll talk when I'm dressed. After all, what kind of a reputation would I get, coming out of another girl's room in my nightgown, first thing in the morning?" she grinned.
He swung the pillow at her, but she danced out of the way. She stuck her tongue out at him, grinned again, pulled her nightgown on, and headed out the door.
"Please rise and wash" the machine droned.
"Alright, already. I'm rising." He stood and stretched. Something about the voice nagged at him, bringing back glimpses of the nightmare. He shook it off as he padded to the bathroom door. He knocked and, getting no reply, went in and tried to take care of business. While it took a bit longer than usual, due to his upstanding condition, he was soon finished.
He went to the interface and requested some towels. His mind was not really on what he was doing, so he let the Machine choose their appearance. When they arrived, he was annoyed to see that they were pink, with small red roses on them. But at least they were soft and thick. He walked across his room to the shower room door. He knocked and, getting no answer, entered. He put the towels where he could reach them, adjusted the water to the temperature and pressure he liked, and stepped in.
As he soaped himself up, he noticed how much nicer Janey's hands had felt on his body. Even lost in a dreamlike recall of what they had done last night, he was able to continue cleaning himself. But the memories had their effect, and soon he couldn't help but finish what they had started. It didn't take many strokes until he was decorating the shower stall with his genetic material. He barely had the presence of mind to rinse himself off again, then just stood under the water and let it run all over him. When he came back to himself, he noticed the need to clean the stall as well. He didn't suppose Lindsey would appreciate him leaving it there.
He was just starting to open the door to his room when she knocked. He called out that he was just leaving, and made it a point to try to close the door loudly behind himself. It didn't work.
He dried himself off a bit, then wrapped a towel around his waist and sat at the interface to get some clothes.
The first thing he got was a warning that only uniforms and exercise clothes would be available until after the end of lessons. He acknowledged the warning, then started browsing. He tried ordering some girls' pants, and got the expected "That choice is not currently available to G15." To test the limits, he tried ordering a non-uniform skirt. he got "That choice is only available to G15 during off duty times." Now that he had established the pattern, he could get to work. He bypassed some protocols and got into the male clothing menus. He tried ordering the male uniform. "That choice is not available to G numbers." Damn. He was afraid of that.
He knew enough to quit while he was behind. This early in the cycle, a lot of people would be making mistakes with early clothing orders, but he knew from the protocols that he and Marie would be flagged for special attention.
With a heartfelt sigh, he ordered the uniform. Then he took a look at what he could do to customize it. The skirt and blouse were pretty much fixed. He had no choice about the shoes, but at least they were flats. He had seen some of the outrageous heels some of the girls wore, and some of the mothers (before they were frozen). He had no idea how they managed to walk in them, and no intention of finding out.
Saving the worst for last, he checked his choices for socks. He had several choices, none particularly appealing. The default was panty hose. No way. Then tights (which looked to him like nothing but thicker panty hose). Just as bad. Then there were various configurations of stockings. Bleah! Finally, there were socks. Of a sort. He could not order the kind he liked, but at least they were socks. Of course, he could not get plain socks. Most were only available decorated with flowers, baby animals, hearts, or the like, and the few that weren't had scalloped or lace accented tops in contrasting colors. He finally settled on a plain white pair, with a pastel blue scallop at the top. They were shorter than he normally liked, and tucking the scallops to the inside (as he intended) would make them even shorter. But it couldn't be helped.
The panties and bra the Machine had selected were worse than he had imagined. Covered with a pattern of flowers and birds, edged with lace, french cut panties, padded push up bra (as though he had anything to push up. Or wanted to. In general, they were hideously girly to his eyes. He couldn't even imagine Janey choosing to wear something like that.
His choices were more varied than they had been with the outer parts of the uniform, but frustratingly limited. The ones the Machine had outfitted him with the previous day had at least been cut similarly to his familiar briefs (even if the fly was missing), and were plain white cotton. No such luck now. That combination was "not currently available to G15." He could get fabrics like nylon and silk in most cuts, and some in cotton. But the cotton ones were only available in prints and pastels, and mostly trimmed with eyelets or lace. And the Machine limited the amount of customizing he could do.
With a lot of effort (and trial and error), he finally got a pair cut the way he wanted, and even got them in cotton. With no trim. The color was off white, and there were colorful bands of decoration around the waist, but they were the best he could get. And no amount of tinkering could get him a fly.
Tired and irritated from all of the work that had taken, he was tempted to let the Machine stick him with whatever bra it chose. After all, he had no intention of wearing it. He grunted at the irony. He was stuck with a useless bra, and Marie couldn't get one at all.
Maybe he could do something about that. He put the request on hold, got his handheld and looked up her diagnostic record from those he had downloaded. After taking a moment to enjoy the sight of her naked body in that room, he looked at the results. The phenotypic data was there from before the Machine reclassified her. She was taller than him, and more muscular, but her chest (other than her breasts) was about the same size as his. He used the other data to calculate that she was a full C cup already (he was impressed), and started thinking about the problem. He couldn't just ask for a C cup bra. Well, he could... but the Machine would not give it to him.
Then he remembered something he had seen in some old files. He saved the clothing selections, then brought up another screen. After some thought, he requested size C breast forms and the necessary glue. When asked to justify the request, he said that he wanted to see, in real life, what he would look like if he gave in to the Machine's demand that he fully become a girl. After he submitted it, there was a longer than usual pause. Then the answer came in the form of a thump from the delivery chute.
Fetching them, he was a little surprised - and weirded out - by the extent to which they looked and felt real. They were larger than Janey's, but had the same feel to them. He was tempted to play with them a bit, but he was running short on time.
Now that he had them, he went back into the clothing menus. He called up the choices and noted with satisfaction that it now asked whether he intended to wear the forms with that outfit. He said yes, and noted that the bra size was adjusted accordingly. He chose an adjustable style, and kept the off white of the panties.
It was too bad that he couldn't pull the same thing with the panties. Unfortunately, his waist and hips differed too much from hers.
He finalized the request. The Machine instructed him to put his dirty clothes into the recycling/disposal chute. He picked up the discarded nightgown and panties, wadded them up, and tossed them into the chute. The nightgown opened up in flight, and landed half-in and half-out of the chute. He went and tipped it in, then waited for his clothes.
He didn't wait long. It all arrived with the customary thud. He took it all out, tossed the skirt and bra into his carryall, and dressed. The track shorts were dry (thank goodness!), so he wore them to breakfast. The socks were kind of uncomfortable with the tops tucked inside, and looked funny at that. But in his mind it was still better than the way they would have looked the way they were made to be worn.
He was just finishing up, when the door announced "G6". Almost without thinking, he knew that was Janey. He let her in. She looked him over, then nodded slightly. "If you don't hurry, there won't be time for breakfast before classes start! And after all that exercise," she grinned, "I'm hungry!"
He grinned back, at the reference to the previous night. He added his handheld to the carryall, grabbed it, then headed for the door.
As they hurried down the hall, he explained what he had done for Marie, and how. He also asked her to hold the bag after breakfast, while he and Marie were consulting with the Machine. She agreed.
They joined Marie at a table, and quickly ordered some breakfast. Janey went to pick up the food, while John gave Marie the bra and told her how he had gotten it. Well, he left out the part about having downloaded and watched her diagnosis. But she did laugh about the image of him with the forms.
She thanked him for the bra, then hurried off to try it on. She returned, smiling about the comforting feeling of being properly supported and protected.
They were soon finished with breakfast. He advised Marie to change into full "boy" uniform for the meeting, reminding her that the Machine might take away "inappropriate" clothes. And even if not, they could bias the Machine against their arguments by marking them as insubordinate. He also reminded her that if they succeeded, the Machine would give them new clothes.
Marie rushed back to her room to change. She hadn't brought the pants with her. Reluctantly, she left the newly acquired bra in the room along with the panties.
John, on the other hand, had brought all he needed in the bag. As Janey stood watch, he ducked into an empty hallway, then got ready. Just in case of interruption, he put the skirt on over the shorts, and only then pulled the shorts off under the skirt. He tossed the shorts and belt into the bag, pulled out his handheld, and gave the bag to Janey for safekeeping. She wished him luck, took the bag, and headed off to class.
He returned to the cafeteria, then waited for Marie by the passage to the boys' dorm. He didn't have long to wait.
They gave each other a quick once over. He tucked an escaping part of her shirt in for her, and she smoothed his skirt. Then, side by side, the made their way to the conference room.
John out his palm on the panel by the door. After a couple of seconds, the door slid open, and they walked through into a small room, with a circle of chairs in front of a large screen.
"Welcome B8 and G15," The Machine greeted them. "How may we be of assistance?" As if it didn't already know.
But when dealing with the Machine, John had learned that it was best to follow the proper form. No matter how silly it is.
Marie stuck to the script. "we are here so you can correct the errors in yesterday's classifications."
The Machine made a series of seemingly random noises, which John associated with it thinking something over. Then it spoke. "Specify."
John answered. "Both Marie, who you call B8, and I are not the sexes you classified us as."
"Checking data," the Machine responded, then "thought" for a long time. "Negative. Gender assignments correct for both B8 and G15."
Marie's self control slipped. "That's nuts!" John put a calming hand on her shoulder, and she took a slow, calming breath before continuing. "That is not correct," she argued. "I'm a girl, and G15 is a boy. You've got it backwards."
The "face" of the Machine remained emotionless. "Negative," it replied. "G15 is female. B8 is male. Data verified."
Marie was not emotionless. "You're wrong! I've got breasts! I've got a... a vulva!" John had warned her against using too much slang for body parts. He said they do not process well. "I have a vagina, for crying out loud! You stuck that damned probe up inside of it yesterday!"
John tried to project calm and confidence as he added "And you examined my penis and scrotum, and indirectly my testicles, pretty thoroughly, too. That is not an experience humans enjoy!"
The Machine "thought" for a few seconds, then responded: "You both have genital anomalies. These can be corrected."
"We don't want you to 'correct' our genitals. Our genitals are just fine." Marie fumed.
John jumped in with "We just want you to correct our designations."
More "thinking", then a flat "Request denied. Is there anything else we can help you with?"
Marie looked at John, with anger and panic warring on her face.
John answered the Machine. "Did you do genetic analyzes of us yesterday?"
"Yes."
"My genetic pattern is consistent with that of a male human. B8's is consistent with that of a human female. Is that correct?"
There was a brief pause, then "Correct."
"My genetic pattern is not consistent with that of a human female. My physical characteristics are not consistent with those of a human female of my age. Therefore, I cannot be a human female. Am I a human?"
The Machine whirred, as though confused, then answered "You are a human."
"I am a human, and I cannot be a human female. Therefore, I must be a human male."
"One moment," The Machine replied. "Accessing medical data..."
After an extended chorus of the usual clicks and whirrs, it replied. "Incorrect. Those criteria can be consistent with intersexed humans as well."
John hadn't anticipated that response. While he waited for his mind to catch up to the situation, Marie asked "What does that mean?"
"Humans exhibiting characteristics of both sexes," intoned the Machine.
"Like what some of the old history books and stuff called 'hermaphrodites'. Part man, part woman. That sort of thing," John added.
"Wasn't that just a myth?"
"No. It was pretty rare, I think, and it was usually caused by genetic or hormone problems before they were born. But we don't qualify. Our bodies match our genes. Machine! Are our genetic patterns and bodies consistent with the documented patterns of intersexed humans?"
More "thinking" from the Machine, then "No. Characteristic patterns are not present."
Now he was back on solid ground. "I am not physically or genetically an intersexed human. I am not physically or genetically a female human. I am a human. I am physically and genetically a male human. Therefore, I must be male. Your classification is in error."
The machine "thought" for several moments, then responded. "Negative. Gender assignment correct for G15. Data verified."
"Oh, for crying out..." Marie blurted out.
John calmed her down a bit, thinking over his options. He knew there were two major priorities of the Machine which he might be able to use. The breeding program was not yet urgent, but it was central to each generation. And individual and group happiness were essential to the functioning of the group.
He tried the breeding issues first.
"These mistaken classifications will interfere with the breeding program. I cannot possibly breed with another boy, and Marie cannot breed with another girl. We do not have the physical equipment to do so."
"Your genital anomalies have been noted. They can be corrected before breeding commences."
Even though he had somewhat expected the response, John was rattled. "You mean you will cut off... you will surgically replace our genitals? Even without our permission?"
"Negative. Surgical correction of genital anomalies will not take place without your consent."
That was a little bit of a relief. But not much. He could see Marie growing angrier with each answer, and that last did not seem to help all that much.
"Even if we allowed you to do so, our genetic makeup would interfere with the breeding process. Marie...," he paused, thinking the argument through. "She could only produce daughters. And half of my potential children would be completely non viable!" He hoped he remembered that part correctly.
The Machine "thought" for a moment. John dared a brief moment of hope, which was quickly dashed. "Genetic anomalies noted," it began. "These issues can be resolved in a number of ways. They pose no serious problem for the breeding program."
Marie was alternating between shocked and angry. John was stunned at the scope of that answer. He had a hard time imagining even the Machine changing the genetic code of every cell in his body. He had a little less trouble with the idea that the Machine could create ovaries for him with just his X combinations in the eggs. That only left artificial insemination - blech! - or...
"Wait a minute! You mean to mate US?!!"
Marie looked shocked. She had not thought it through that far. Looking at John, she realized that it just would not work. "No fucking way!" she exploded. Then, realizing what she had said, went on with, "No offense John, but you are not exactly what I would consider boyfriend material. And I really can't see you as my husband!"
"It's worse than that. It wants to make me your wife! And no offense, but I can't see you as my husband, either."
Marie was stunned. She hadn't put the whole thing together like that. But looking at him, she realized it didn't matter. "It doesn't matter. You're not what I would look for in a... wife, either!" She shuddered at the thought of having any girl as her wife, much less having him for one.
"I agree!" He knew he was down to his last argument. But it was a big one.
"Such a marriage would make us both unhappy, and would alienate us from the rest of the colonists." He took a breath and stared right at the screen. "Listen carefully, Machine. This diagnosis is making us very unhappy. Change us back."
The Machine "thought" for a long time.
"Ok, what was the big deal about happiness?" Marie asked him.
"One of the top priorities for the Machine is to ensure our happiness, to the greatest extent practical. In a closed system this small, anything less could be a disaster. So it is very concerned with both individual happiness and that of the group."
The Face of the Machine started moving again. "Your happiness is important to us. We understand the importance of gender diagnosis in happiness." It seemed to take a moment to choose its words. John dared to hope that this would do it for them. But then the Machine continued. "That is why we cannot reverse the assignment for either G15 or B8," it continued. "Neither of you would be happy with a different diagnosis."
Marie went ballistic. "That's a load of crap! I was happy as a girl. I am not happy as a so called boy. And there is no way you can say I'm not still a girl! You admitted that I'm genetically a girl. And I've got tits and a pussy..." at a look from John, she corrected herself. "Breasts and a vulva. I've got a vagina, for crying out loud! How can you possibly say I'm not a girl?"
"Diagnosis of gender is not by genetics or genitalia."
"What the hell else is there?"
"Diagnosis is by," the Machine hesitated, as though searching for the right word. "Diagnosis is by ghost,"
"Ghost?!" They both shouted. Then, while Marie just stared at the screen with her mouth hanging open, John continued.
"You mean the ship is haunted?"
Marie jumped in, "And you are doing all this to me because of them?"
"We will rephrase," the Machine replied tonelessly. "Diagnosis is by spirit. The spirit of B8 is male."
"You expect me to believe you can somehow measure our spirit?" she demanded.
"This can be done. This has been done. It is part of the checking and assignment process undertaken yesterday."
"Despite everything I am, everything I know and feel, you're telling me I somehow have a man's spirit?"
There was a brief pause, then "No. All spirits display both genders."
Marie was furious, and John didn't blame her. Maybe, if he got more of an explanation, she could calm down before she hurt someone. Like him. Besides, it could help him find another opening.
"In that case, we should be able to be whichever we want. And since we want to be our birth genders, we should be allowed to."
The Machine Thought for a few seconds, then replied "This is generally correct, but when a spirit is over three quarters male, then only a male diagnosis can lead to happiness."
"Even if that's true, if her spirit is so masculine that you had to change her, you only changed me to balance the numbers. And maybe because I was a little more one than the other. But I am very unhappy this way. I ask that you provisionally accept my request to change me back. That you let me change back when I find a suitable B number to swap back with."
Marie gave him an angry glare, while the Machine "thought" about his statements. He tried to placate her with a gesture, but it didn't seem to help.
"Request denied."
Dammit, this was no fair! "Explain!"
"The spirit of G15 is 78% female. Therefore, only a female diagnosis can lead to happiness."
John was stunned. His whole approach to the problem was based on the idea that he was just balancing the numbers. He certainly didn't feel female - whatever that would mean. But he had always been happy as a boy, happy fitting in with the other boys. Of course, he was the youngest, and the best at dealing with the Machine (up to now), so he didn't fit in as well as he might. But still...
While John was lost in thought, Marie took up the theme. "So John is like... three times as feminine as me?"
"Approximately 4.5 times. G15 is 78% female, and B8 is 17% female."
That shocked John out of his thoughts. They looked at each other, taking it all in. Marie was the first to break away.
"I don't care what your ghosts say!" she announced, deliberately ignoring the earlier correction. "I'm all girl. You poked my tits. You stuck a probe up my pussy. Hell, you pulled a bloody tampon out of me. If I'm so masculine, how can I be having a period?"
John shuddered at the image. Like most of his male peers, he was very uncomfortable with the whole subject of periods.
"Your menstrual state has been noted. This is most unfortunate. It will not reoccur."
John started. There was something familiar - and ominous - about that proclamation.
Marie was just confused. "What do you mean by that?"
"You will not menstruate again," the Machine replied. "It would be counter productive to your happiness."
"It was never my favorite thing in the world, but it is a part of my life. You can't just take it away from me!"
"It is not appropriate for a male to menstruate," it replied emotionlessly. "You need to find happiness in your male gender. Menstruation will not reoccur."
"What are you going to do? You said you wouldn't mess with my genitals without my say so!"
"Surgical correction of genital anomalies will not take place without your consent." it confirmed. "However, steps will be taken to assist your identification with your assigned gender roles. Hence menstruation will cease for B8."
"What are you going to do to me?" Was there a touch of fear in her demand?
"Your hormones will be balanced appropriately,"
What are you going to do - spike my orange juice?"
"Hormones will not be administered orally."
"Shots in the butt? Implants? Patches? How will I be getting them?"
"They will be manufactured by your bodies," it replied.
John caught the plural, with a certain amount of dread. He knew it was too late to do anything about this part of it now.
"How can you change this feminine body to make it manufacture male hormones?"
"It can be done," the Machine replied. "It is already being done."
"What? Don't you dare, you... you electronic pervert!" She looked around for something to throw at the screen. Or to hit.
"That won't help anything, you know." John tried.
"Shut up, girly boy!"
That stung. "I've done everything I could to help you! Why are you turning on me like that?"
"Help me? Is that what you were doing when you tried that provisional approval crap?"
"Yes! If it had worked, it might have gotten us closer to changing you back as well."
"Yeah, right." She turned to the screen. "What else are you going to do to us, pervert?"
Ignoring the slur, the Machine continued. "To further assist your identification with the correct gender, you will be encouraged to wear gender appropriate clothing, and undertake gender appropriate activity. There will be greater restrictions on your choices than those of your colleagues."
"That's why you wouldn't let me have those clothes?" John's comment was more of a statement than a question.
"Correct," the Machine replied. "We have noted that yesterday G15 wore shorts, and B8 wore a skirt. And that the pattern has been repeated today. This should not be repeated."
"Like hell. What would you do to me? What could be any worse than the stuff you're already doing?" she demanded.
"Privileges will be withdrawn," it responded. "But we encourage you to comply. Once genital anomalies have been corrected, standard B number privileges will apply to B8 also."
"And I'm not supposed to wear pants unless I let you drill me a new hole?" John gulped.
There was a pause, as the Machine digested the phrasing. "Correct," replied. "You are requested to return to lessons."
Marie
The day was getting better and better.
Not.
After the machine shot them down, and said all those stupid things, she was furious. She hadn't felt anything like this before. It was like her whole body was on fire. Everything seemed literally tinged with red.
And then Tony started in. She was on her way to her class, and he stepped in her way.
"Get out of my way!"
To Tony, that sounded like a challenge. "Why don't you make me?"
Without saying another word, she stormed right into him, knocking him down. That might have been the end of it, if Chad hadn't been there. He gave Tony grief about getting beaten by a girl in boy's clothing, until Tony was fighting mad. He took off after her.
When he caught up, he grabbed her arm and spun her around. She looked him in the eyes and told him to let go. A part of him knew this was dangerous. He knew that her father had not only taught her self defense, had not just taught her how to fight. He had taught her combat. That sane part of him was shouted down by the angry, embarrassed part that claimed his status among the other boys would suffer if he backed down.
Just as a small crowd had started gathering, he swung at her. The rest happened so quickly that most of the witnesses couldn't even see it happen. She might have gained a lot of status in the eyes of the boys for her response to his attack, if it hadn't gone too far. They could accept the arm broken in two places, the three broken ribs, the shattered kneecap, and even the lost teeth and concussion.
But she went too far for them when she crushed his balls.
A group of them pulled her away from him and kept her under control until she calmed down a bit. At the same time, a couple of others went to the nearest interface and called for an autostretcher. The Machine instructed them to escort Marie to the clinic. She was still furious, but she kept the focus of that fury on the Machine and Tony. And maybe a little on Chad.
The Machine examined her. It found two damaged fingers - one broken, one sprained - and the expected signs of physical exertion, emotional extremes, and the androgens with which it had been flooding her system.
It mentioned the fingers as it treated them, then quizzed her about what happened. She declared that he had attacked her, and she had defended herself. The Machine noted the discrepancies in the injuries. She reiterated that she had defended herself, then added that she had successfully defended herself.
The Machine asked her why he had attacked her. She pondered a moment, and recognized a chance to reinforce one of the earlier arguments.
"He was unhappy, angry that you classified me as a boy. So are a lot of the others. You not only made John, G15, and me unhappy, you made the others unhappy as well. They will never accept me as a boy. Especially now. They will never accept G15 as a girl, either."
She drew a deep breath, then "Change us back! You are making us unhappy, and you are making our peers unhappy. We will not be happy until you do, and neither will they!"
The machine "thought" for what seemed like a long time, long enough to get her hopes up a little, then replied. "Request denied," it intoned.
"What?! How can you do that?"
"Your analysis is incomplete," the Machine replied in it's irritatingly unemotional way. "You can only be happy as a male. Your present unhappiness stems from your rejection of the diagnosis and a normal reaction to the novelty of the situation. Similarly, your peers are reacting to the novelty of the situation and to your failure to act within the norms of your appropriate gender. Once you accept your status and adopt the normal masculine behaviors, these problems will decline."
"Never happen, tin man. No matter what you do to me, I will always be a girl!" Privately, she wondered whether she would ever become a woman.
"You require rest. Please return to your quarters."
"What about lunch?"
"You may obtain it there, by way of the interface."
"Fine!" she grated, as the door hissed open. She stormed out, and went to her room. The few people she passed in the corridors quickly and quietly got out of her way. But she could feel them following her with their eyes.
Once she got to her room, she stomped around it a few times then threw herself down on the bed. "Dammit!" she thought, "Why did I have to hurt him so badly? Sure, he deserved to get his ass kicked for the shit he was pulling, but not that much damage. What the hell is happening to me?"
John
John was not having much of a better time. When they left the conference room, Marie had stormed ahead of him. Between her longer legs and her emotional state, she had rapidly pulled away from him.
In some ways, that was a relief. He had never seen her so angry, and it was sort of frightening. It also meant that he didn't have to worry about her seeing the tears of frustration welling up in his eyes. With luck, he could get them wiped away before he got to the classroom or otherwise met anybody.
By now, he should have known better than to count on luck.
He heard raised voices ahead, and turned the corner just in time to see Marie push through Tony, knocking him down. Luckily, Chad and Tony were paying attention to her and didn't notice him. He heard Chad taking digs at Tony and egging him on to fight. Stupid. Everyone knew about her combat training. She had even given demonstrations.
When Tony attacked her, everything seemed to go into slow motion. He saw every blow of hand, elbow, and foot, heard each bone break. Worse, he could almost feel each blow, including the horrifying coup de gras.
That last snapped him put of it, and he spun around to go back to a nearby interface and call for an autostretcher. Tony was going to need it. Maggie caught up with him before he got there, and together they made the call.
The Machine dispatched the robot, and instructed them to have Marie conducted to a nearby room. They got back just in time to see Marie, being held by six people, glare at Chad as he opened his mouth to say something. He took one look at her face, turned, and ran.
John ended up among those accompanying the autostretcher. It went to a different room than the one Marie had been taken to. The room was roughly divided into two parts. On one side, a forest of equipment surrounded the autostretcher and moved in. He soon lost sight of Tony, entirely. A barrier rose between that and the other side of the room. The screen came alive with the Face, asking each of them what had happened.
He recounted his observations, making sure to include Chad's contributions to the events. He finished, then waited as the others gave their accounts. Apparently, he had seen more of the fight than they had. The Machine asked some questions of each, then thanked and dismissed them. He stayed behind, to talk to the Machine some more.
He raised the same points as Marie, and got the same answers. Except that he was sent to class instead of his room. He asked about Tony's condition, and was shown a list of the injuries and a prognosis. He winced at some, especially the testicular damage, but was reassured by the prediction of a full recovery in a few days. He asked about Marie, and was told about her injured fingers and the prescribed rest.
By then, he had forgotten about what he was wearing.