G11 - Mistaken Identity

By Sarah Bayen
Edited by Deborah Williams
G11-Final1.jpg - 55976 Bytes

Cover Art by Daphne Teal

( This is the full edited verison that is published by Sapphire's Place Press - and is the full text of the paper book! )

 

Chapter One

Steve opened his eyes reluctantly, as the soft voice of the Machine called to him. He blinked a couple of times, not lifting 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 planetfall, 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 number 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 teddy 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 taking hold of the handle, hesitated 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 slide down 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 assigned 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 of hair. 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. “People 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 dissonant harmonies and drifting into absurd falsettos. 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, 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, something 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, arms folded across their chests, looking at the now portrait-like representation of the Other. “I’ll help you get ready to breed if you want, Karen,” Steve heard a voice call. It was Roger, another of his 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 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 from 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 glamour and allure to it. 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 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 the 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 deeply, 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 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. Charles 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 are 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, 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 on 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.

Chapter Two

Steve walked along a long corridor he had never seen before. It was obviously something the Machine had created while they had been in the Main Assembly. It often rearranged the internal structure of the ship, seemingly on a whim, but rarely bothered to inform any of the occupants about it. He was walking slowly. Not because he was anything but anxious to show his friends that he had managed to escape from his skirt, but because the trousers he was wearing kept slipping from his waist. He looked down at them in anger, and saw a glimpse of white socks beneath the huge turn-ups he had made. Damn, he thought, he should have got Karen to swap socks with him as well. Still, he reasoned, she would probably have thought they were too small for her. He looked at the ridiculous pattern traced out in tiny holes on them and stopped, letting the turn ups down a little more in an effort to hide them. Just about satisfied that his efforts would save him from further ridicule, he continued along the corridor.

He came to an archway after about one hundred meters or so. A bright neon sign above it said, “Sleeping Quarters, B numbers.” He smiled to himself. This was to be his new home. Clutching the blue bag that contained his only possessions, as well as the waistband of his trousers, he stepped forward towards the Arch. A flash of light stopped him. “Warning,” the Machine announced. “G numbers must not enter B sleeping area until breeding programme has commenced.”

Shit, he thought. He stepped forward again, with the same result. Beyond the archway, he could see two of the boys coming out of rooms to find out what the commotion was all about. “Sounds like one of the girls is coming in to get us!” he heard a voice call. It was Colin. He walked along to the Archway from the other side, and stopped, facing Steve. “Oh it’s you,” he observed, then looked Steve up and down. “Got rid of the skirt did you? You might have got some trousers that fitted you though.”

“I didn’t have much choice,” Steve replied through gritted teeth. “Let me in will you?”

Colin looked bemused at this. He shrugged. “Sure,” he said, and stood to one side. Steve stepped forward again, and was held back by a force emanating from the frame of the archway.

“Warning,” the Machine’s metallic tones echoed out again. “G numbers must not enter B sleeping area until breeding programme has commenced.” He stood confounded outside in the corridor.

“Switch it off Colin,” he snapped.

“I’m not doing it, it’s the Machine,” the other boy protested. “It still thinks you’re a girl! Ha ha!”

“What’s going on?” said another voice from behind Colin. Bryn pushed himself to the front. “Oh hi, Steve. Back to being a boy now are you? Good.”

“I can’t get in,” Steve hissed back. Bryn looked bemused.

“Well we just walked in. There’s not a door or anything.”

“I know that, watch.” Steve stepped forward again, and with a faint flash, was pushed backwards again.

“G numbers must not enter B sleeping area until breeding programme has commenced,” the Machine announced with seemingly infinite and infinitely infuriating patience.

Bryn walked through to join Steve outside, paused for a moment, and then walked back through the arch. “It works for me,” he commented, shrugging.

“It still thinks he’s a girl,” Colin added, sneering as he chortled to himself. “Looks like you’ll have to sleep with the girls for a while, my son.”

“Lucky you,” Bryn observed, with a twinkle in his eye.

“Hardly.” Steve muttered dolefully in response. More of the boys now filled the corridor on the other side of the Archway to see what was going on. Steve looked pleadingly through the forbidden threshold at them. Surely there was a way to switch the bloody thing off. “Is there any other entrance?” he demanded.

“Not that I’ve noticed,” Bryn replied nonchalantly. “The Machine’s obviously set on protecting our modesty or something.”

A boy called Stuart, tall and with thick black hair, began looking at the frame of the door with some interest. He was generally considered to be one of the brightest of the children, particularly in scientific matters. “It looks as if it’s some sort of force field,” he announced at length. “Not a strong one. I’m not sure what triggers it.”

“He does,” Colin suggested, sneering at Steve again.

Stuart followed his gaze. “Try it again,” he suggested.

Steve stepped forward, and was immediately repulsed. “G numbers must not enter B sleeping are until breeding programme has commenced.”

Stuart tilted his head to one side. “It’s got some sort of recognition device in it,” he said. “It won’t let girls through.”

“I’m not a girl!” snapped Steve.

Stuart considered this for a moment. “Yes,” he agreed at last. “But the Machine thinks you are, so it’s not going to let you through.”

“Can’t you switch it off?” Steve demanded. “You’re good with electronics and things like that.”

“No, I don’t think so.” Stuart replied thoughtfully. “And even if I did, the Machine would just build another one to replace it.”

“Well then, what am I supposed to do?” Steve demanded.

“Go and find a room in the G area,” a voice behind him suggested. He turned, and saw Karen standing behind him, wearing the skirt that he had been forced into by the machine. She looked grim faced and determined.

“Nice skirt!” Bryn told her, looking at her preposterously short attire. She snarled at him, and then turned to Steve.

“Looks like you’ve found the same problem as me,” she observed. Standing beside him for a moment, she stepped forward through the archway without any reaction from the Machine. She turned to face him. “The Machine still thinks I’m a boy, and that you’re a girl,” she announced. “We might as well make ourselves comfortable until we work out a way to put it right.” She then turned to the assembled boys, taller than most of them. “And I don’t want any stupidity from you lot!” she announced. “As far as you are concerned, the Machine is right. I am a boy, so leave me alone, alright?”

There were a few mumbles, and the crowd began to disperse. “What about me?” Steve asked, after a pause.

Karen turned around to face him. “Well I’d get myself off to the girls’ quarters if I were you. I’ve not been in there, but according to Sarah, we’ve all got rooms to ourselves, so it shouldn’t be too difficult, as long as you keep yourself to yourself.”

Steve felt new tears of frustration welling in his eyes. Karen stepped back through the archway, and placed a hand gently on his shoulder. “Don’t worry,” she said kindly. “We can sort his out. There’s no need to let it upset you. Boys will be boys won’t they? The Machine won’t be able to think a boy is a girl for long, or the other way around.”

Consoled, Steve smiled at her, and put his hand on hers. “I’m sure you’re right,” he said. “Shall I see you later?”

She smiled again at him, her hand still on his shoulder. “Yes, when we eat. We can swap ideas then about how to put this madness right.”

He smiled again. “Welcome B15,” he heard the Machine say from the other side of the arch. “Your sleeping quarters are ready, and have been labelled with your designation.”

“I’ll just go and have a look,” she said to him, smiling again. “See you later.”

Steve wistfully watched her walk down the corridor beyond the archway, as she looked left and right for what should be his room. Sullenly he turned, and retraced his steps to the Main Assembly, and from there, through the other door, still open, into an identical corridor leading off into the distance.

His progress was still slow, hampered by the clumsiness imposed by his huge trousers. Eventually he reached another archway, identical to that which had rejected him, except with a gaudy, “Sleeping Quarters G number,” across its top. He hesitated on the threshold for a moment, and then stepped through. The Machine made no protest. Once inside he stopped again, looking at the rows of doors, each with a number on it, a G number. He supposed he should look for the door marked G11.

“Welcome G11,” the Machine intoned. “Your sleeping quarters are ready, and have been labelled with your designation.” Grimly clutching both his trousers, and his blue bag, he walked forward, looking at the numbers on the doors as he passed. There was giggling coming from inside the one marked G3. He wondered briefly who was in there. As he passed G7 the door opened, and he jumped. Janet stood framed by the door, and looked at him in distrust. “Oh, it’s you,” she said, as if she’d been expecting him.

“Yes,” he responded, coughing nervously. “I couldn’t get into the boy’s area.”

She looked at him appraisingly. “No,” she agreed. “I didn’t think you would be able to. Karen couldn’t get in here.” She looked down at his trousers, and raised her eyebrows. “They’re a bit big for you,” she commented.

“I know,” he replied. “But rather that than wear a skirt.”

She raised her eyebrows even higher. “I’m not sure I’d agree to be honest.”

Her comment on his fashion taste made him feel uncomfortable. “Well I’d best go and find my room, my temporary room that is. We’ll sort this out soon enough.”

He walked further down the corridor, looking for the room that had been designated his. He was aware that Janet was watching him as he searched. He found it, marked G11 as expected.

“Welcome G11,” the Machine intoned. “Please enter and make yourself comfortable. He touched the button on the left hand side of the door, which swished open.

“Oh God it’s him!” he heard a voice behind him. He turned around. Several of the doors had now opened.

“At least he’s wearing trousers now,” someone else commented, and there was an echo of giggles. Closing his eyes wearily, he stepped into the room, and allowed the door to shut behind him. He leaned against the door with his eyes shut for a few moments, trying to compose himself, but eventually opened them, and looked around the room.

It was sparse, with a simple bed against one wall, and a desk and computer terminal on the other. There was the standard Interface with the Machine itself on the far wall at the foot of the bed. From there he could obtain things that the Machine made, including clothing. He had never paid much attention to the Interface before, his Mum and Dad had handled that sort of thing for him. Thinking of them, he felt infinitely sad again, and lay himself down on the bed, and began to cry softly to himself.

He didn’t know how long he had stayed like that, face down on the bed, but he was aroused by the sound of the door alert, and the voice of the Machine. “G13,” it intoned, informing him of who had rung his doorbell.

Cursing quietly to himself, he dried his eyes on the sleeve of his blouse. It was only then that he noticed the thin pink piping around the cuff. He stood, only for his trousers to slip down his thighs. Cursing again, he hoisted them up, and holding the waistband walked to the door, and pushed the button on the side to open it. Standing in the doorway was Sarah, her dark curly hair framing her face, which had a sheepish expression on it. “Hi Steve,” she said brightly. “Oh my, have you been crying?”

“No,” he snapped in response. “I was just….” he hesitated for a moment, “sleeping.” She looked at him with some sympathy and disbelief in his denial for a second or two.

“Listen,” she said, visibly blushing. “This is a bit awkward, but I’ve got to go to the loo.” He stared back at her, and wondered why she felt the need to tell him this. His puzzlement must have been obvious on his face, because Sarah decided, in spite of her obvious embarrassment, to press on with an explanation. “Only we share a toilet, you and me,” she went on. He was still not clear as to the issue. “It’s between your room and mine,” she went on. “We’ve got a door each, but I wanted to make sure you weren’t going to be in there for a minute or two. Hadn’t you noticed we were sharing then?”

“No,” he replied, now sharing her embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I’ve only just got here.”

“Well it’s not your fault,” she went on. “But it is a bit awkward. Actually it’s worse for Jeanette,” she confided, biting her lip. Jeanette was Sarah’s best friend, a taller girl with long mousy hair. “She’s sharing a shower with you!” Her eyes opened wide to emphasise the horror. Sarah nodded to the other wall of his room, where Steve, turning, noticed a door. “The rooms have got a shared shower on one side, and a shared toilet on the other. I suppose it saves on space.”

“Yes,” Steve agreed, now blushing as much as the girl.

“She’s a bit nervous about you being here,” Sarah went on. “Perhaps you could, I don’t know, reassure her that you won’t be bursting in on her or something?”

“Yes, of course,” he replied, gathering himself together. “And I don’t need the toilet for the moment, so you can go ahead.”

Sarah smiled sweetly again. “Thanks.” She looked down at his legs for a moment. “Those trousers are a bit big for you aren’t they?”

He looked down at the seemingly massive waistband held in his hand and nodded. “I swapped with Karen,”

Sarah nodded. “That was kind of her. Perhaps you should have a belt or something? That might keep them up a bit.”

“I haven’t got a belt,” Steve said glumly.

“Then get the Machine to make one,” Sarah said, amazed at his stupidity. “Do you know how?”

He nodded. “Yes. I’m not completely helpless you know.”

“No I’m sure you’re not,” Sarah agreed. “Well, I’ll leave you in peace then. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Well I’ll not be staying long,” he said weakly, and wiped his eyes again.

“You have been crying!” Sarah exclaimed. “Oh poor Steve!” She stepped forward, and put an arm around his shoulders.

“I just miss my Mum and Dad,” he spluttered.

“We all do,” Sarah consoled. “I tell you what. Let me help you find a belt.” She smiled at him, and he nodded meekly in response. Sarah sat down on the stool by the Interface, and pulled out the keyboard. The screen flickered to life, and rapidly she managed to display a series of nine potential belts. “Which one do you like?” she asked. He walked over and stood beside her. The belts were all a little girly for his taste, with hooks and flower motifs. He pointed at the least offensive one, which was in mock leather, with a heart for the buckle. Sarah pushed some more buttons on the keyboard, and out of the chute by the side of the machine, the belt appeared. He grabbed it gratefully, and slipped it through the tabs on the waistband of his trousers, and did it up. It was a little tight, more than a little tight, and made the top of the trousers look all crumpled, and a little absurd. Sarah watched him attentively as he finished the job.

“You’d be better with your blouse hanging out,” she observed. “It’ll cover up where the trousers are too big.”

“Do you think so?” he asked. She nodded, and he pulled the blouse out of his trousers, and let it hang loose over the newly belted trousers.

“Actually it would look even better if you put the belt over the blouse, rather than just through the trousers,” Sarah observed critically. “But you’d probably think that was a bit girly.” She giggled to herself.

Steve suddenly had a thought. “Can I order boy’s stuff through there?” he asked. “Or a pair of trousers that fit anyway?”

“I don’t see why not,” Sarah said, turning back to the screen, her fingers flicking over the keyboard again.

“That choice is unavailable to G11 at the present time,” the screen responded to her final click.

“Oh that’s a blow!” Sarah exclaimed. She tried again, with the same response. “I’ll have to try on mine in a minute. I don’t want to be stuck in a skirt all the time any more than you did!”

Steve found it hard to sympathise with her, and the brief surge of optimism that the thought of ordering trousers through the Interface had brought him evaporated. Sarah stood up. “Right, well I’d best have my wee then. I won’t be long, but I’d be grateful if you’d let me know when you’re going to go. Just knock on the door and tell me.”

“I will,” Steve replied; now back in the depths of melancholy.  Sarah smiled once more, and left. The door hissed shut behind her, and Steve sat himself down on the edge of the bed. His belt dug into him a little, but he had had to do it up tight to make sure his trousers stayed in place. God, having to share a toilet and shower with girls! It was just as well this was a temporary problem. I hoped Karen was having more luck than him thinking of a way of solving it.

“Attention,” the Machine suddenly announced. “Will all G and B numbers please reassemble in the Main Assembly for further briefing? Thank you,” it added, as an afterthought. Steve jumped up immediately. Much as he hated the Machine at that point, the summons was welcome as a way of ending his temporary exile amongst the girls. He placed the blue bag, with its memories of his childhood on the bed, pausing briefly to wonder whether he would have a chance to retrieve it. He was certain that he would not be coming back to the girl’s sleeping quarters; Karen would have figured some way out of the mess. Nevertheless, he didn’t want to carry it around. He decided to leave it there. He could always ask Karen, who would no doubt be allocated this room, to let him have it back later.

He walked over, and through the door. The common area outside the rooms was empty, and all the other doors closed. Feeling rather hopeful for the first time that day, he strode purposefully towards the archway, and passed through it without comment from the Machine. He retraced his steps along the corridor beyond the sleeping area, and into Main Assembly. The large room, still with chairs scattered hither and thither from the reassignment process, was empty. He had reacted quickest, and with most alacrity to the summons.

“Attention,” the Machine repeated itself. “Will all G and B numbers please reassemble in the Main Assembly for further briefing?” Steve moved over towards the door that led to the boys’ area, and sat himself down purposefully on that side of the room. That would show the Machine he meant business, he thought to himself. He heard some laughter from the corridor, and was relieved to see Stuart and Charles entering, sharing some joke.

“Hi,” he said, eagerly, pleased to have masculine company. The other two boys looked at him dubiously. He had never been particularly friendly with either. Charles, he had bullied extensively, and Stuart he had ridiculed as a geek. Eventually, and with some reluctance, they nodded in reply.

“You got some trousers then,” Charles commented curtly, and then sat down a significant distance from Steve.

The room soon began to fill. Steve waved as Richard and Bryn entered, and they came over to join him.

“Wotcha,” Richard said, he at least, pleased to see him. “How’s it going?”

“Not great,” Steve replied. “But at least I managed to swap clothes with Karen.”

“Yes,” Bryn responded. “It was a bit odd seeing you in a skirt you know. I might have fancied you if I wasn’t careful.”

Steve pulled a face, and looked up as a furious looking Karen entered from the boys’ side. He waved to her as well, eager for some news of her escape plan, but she ignored him, and walked across the hall to join her friend Mandy on the other side. She walked awkwardly in the tight skirt she had taken off him, and kept pulling its hem down to avoid revealing even more of her legs.

“Nice skirt Karen!” Bryn shouted across the room, obviously delighted at the girl’s discomfort.

“Shut your face,” she retorted without bothering to turn, and then sat with some difficulty next to her friend.

“Briefing commences in two minutes,” the Machine’s metallic tones informed them. Stragglers, particularly from the boys’ side, came through the door, and took what seats were still available. Two or three of them elected to comment on Steve’s lack of a skirt, to which he simply responded with a sneer. The skirt as a joke, he knew, would run for a while, but at least he had escaped from the ignominy of actually wearing it. The only comment that really upset him came from Colin. He walked right up to Steve, and sneered, before saying. “You looked better in a skirt,” and walking away.

The lights dimmed, and the familiar ‘Other’ face appeared on the screen. It proceeded to give them a lecture on what the programme for the immediate future was to be. Their education would continue, with maths and science still forming a large part of the curriculum. They all listened with half interest to the list of topics they would be covering. Sports would continue to be available, but as they were older, the Machine told them, the girls and boys would exercise separately. There were a few murmurs of discontent from the girls at this. The murmurs turned to uproar as the Machine made its next pronouncement. What they were wearing then was what it had called the Learning Uniform. They were to wear it during the daytime hours each day when there were lessons. It would, the Machine informed them, create an atmosphere conducive to learning. The children had been able more or less to wear whatever they chose before, and this restriction, although minor, grated considerably. The girls in particular, seemed to regard it as an affront that they should have to wear skirts for lessons. Steve’s blood went cold, as he realised that unless and until he could correct the Machine’s stupidity, the same fate would befall him.

The Machine finished by telling them that lessons would commence the next day, and that they were free to do as they wished, at least, until dinner, which would be served communally in the Refectory. There had been no such room before, when the parents were still with them, and Steve hoped that it would be adequately signposted. The Other’s face froze on the screen, and the lights in the room were switched back up.

The outrage of the girls then filled the room, orchestrated by Linda, and ably assisted by Sylvia, a tall girl with a mass of dark hair. The Machine’s pronouncement, it appeared, had demeaned them. Steve, and most of the boys, stayed silent during the tirade. What might be done about it was a question the girls all seemed happy to leave to later, simply revelling in their offended sense of fair play.

“Well I think it’s good,” Bryn whispered to Steve, as the ranting went on. “Girls look better in skirts anyway.”

“Yeah,” agreed Richard. “Better than you do anyway Steve!” Steve grimaced anew at the reminder of the uniform the Machine had picked out for him. “I tell you what, shall we get off to the sports hall, and kick a ball around for a bit. It’d be better than sitting here listening to that lot.”

“Good idea,” agreed Bryn. “Let’s just go back and get changed into our football kit, and have some fun.”

Steve was on the point of agreeing, as the other two stood, when he realised that he wouldn’t be able to follow them off to the boys’ sleeping area. Still, he could get to the Sports Hall just as easily from the girls’ side, he reasoned, having picked up his gear. But he really ought to have a word with Karen first. “I just need to plan how to get back into the boys’ quarters for the night,” he said. “I’ll join you in a minute.”

Bryn and Richard nodded, and disappeared through the boys’ exit. Steve stood, and picked his way across the room to where Karen was sitting with Mandy, both listening to Sylvia’s renewed tirade about the sanity of the Machine.

“It’s so bloody unfair,” she exclaimed. “Making us wear skirts all the time.” There was a chorus of ‘yeahs’ in response to this. Looking around nervously, Steve noticed that he was the only boy left in the hall. “I’ll give the bloody thing Learning Uniforms!” she exclaimed, and raised her fist at the frozen face on the screen.

“My Mum told me that men used to keep women down by forcing them to be ladylike!” Gill added, to much agreement and nodding. “It was only recently that girls were allowed to wear trousers at all.”

“Yeah,” Linda went on, warming to the theme. “Now that bloody Machine has taken away one of our basic rights, without so much as a by your leave!”

“Hi Karen,” Steve whispered, sitting next to the tall girl, sitting very rigidly in the tiny skirt she had taken off him. She turned to face him, and smiled thinly, before returning her attention to Linda.

“Well I don’t think we should put up with it,” Linda went on. A chorus of ‘no’s’ signalled the general agreement. “And what do you think Steve? You’re a boy, or at least, you were until this morning.” This was greeted by a peal of laughter from the girls sitting around. All eyes turned on him. “What do you think of the Machine’s plans?”

Steve didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t been paying that much attention to what the Machine had said in respect to the girls. That, in his mind, had been someone else’s problem. “I’m not sure,” he managed to stutter eventually.

“Well it’ll affect you too,” Janet said, sitting opposite him. “Or at least, for as long as the Machine thinks you’re a girl!” There was another chorus of giggles, and Steve felt a cold horror arising in his stomach. She was right, until he managed to convince the Machine that he was properly a boy, he was going to have to suffer its regime of making them wear skirts during the day.

“Well, I think we need to make a protest,” Linda went on, again to general agreement. “I’m not prepared to grow up as a mere plaything for men!”

“But what can we do?” asked Gill. The general chorus quietened, as all eyes fixed on her and considered this point.

“There’s a new Machine-Human interface room,” Steve was startled to hear Karen’s voice, quiet and authoritatively announce. “It’s designed for us to air any issues with the Machine. I’ve made an appointment for tomorrow morning for me and Steve to go and see it to discuss,” she hesitated, and turned to look at Steve. “To discuss our particular problem.”

There was another outbreak of murmuring. “Well that sounds a good first step,” Linda agreed. “I’ll make an appointment for all of us.”

“It’d be better just to have three or four go,” Karen suggested, again with an air of authority. “And to plan exactly what you’re going to say. Steve and I are meeting this evening to go through our issues.”

“Are we?” Steve asked, bewildered. She turned to him again. “Yes,” she said, smiling at him. “I hadn’t told you yet, but that’s my plan.”

“Well I think the rest of us need to plan what we need to say as well,” Linda went on, looking a little discomforted by Karen’s intervention.

“Good, well let’s go and do it then!” exclaimed Gill. Almost as one, the girls stood to walk off to the sleeping area.

“Aren’t you coming Karen?” Linda asked. “We could do with your help.”

Karen looked up at the smaller girl. “I can’t can I?” she replied, a little bitterly. “I’m stuck with the boys.”

“Oh yes, I’m sorry,” Linda replied. She stood for a while, trying to think of something to say, and then joined the general exodus, leaving Karen and Steve on their own.

“It should be fairly straightforward,” Steve suggested. “Convincing the Machine that you’re a girl and I’m a boy.”

Karen looked at him carefully. “Maybe,” she suggested, “but we ought to plan it properly. We’ll do that after dinner. I think better when I’m not hungry.”

Steve didn’t protest at this. Karen was a much better thinker than him, he knew that. If she wanted to do the planning after dinner, then he was happy enough with that. “How are you getting along with the girls?” she asked him, unexpectedly.

Her eyes held him in their gaze, demanding an answer. “Fine,” he said, “They’re friendly enough.” He thought for a while. “It’s a bit awkward having to share toilets and the showers though.”

“Tell me about it!” Karen said, an exasperated tone in her voice. “I was having a quick shower when your mate Richard burst in on me!”

“Oh God, did he?”

“Yes. Still, I sent him off with his tail between his legs. My plan is to keep myself to myself as much as possible, until we’ve sorted this out anyway,” Karen went on. “This bloody skirt doesn’t help much,” she said, tugging at the hem once more. In spite of himself, Steve’s eyes fell on it, and the muscular legs it was exposing. “I manage to get a bit of elastic to fasten it at the back, but it’s way too tight, and too bloody short as well.”
”I’m sorry,” Steve said, blushing a little. She looked at him, and shrugged.

“Well I’m not sure I’d be happy having to wear your skirt too often,” she said, smiling. “Still, we’ll get it sorted out tomorrow, and the Machine can give me one in my own size.”

“Yes,” Steve agreed, pleased that Karen wasn’t blaming him for her predicament. There was a silence for a few seconds, and then Karen announced that she was going back to her room. Steve stood, and thought about what to do. It would be some time before the main meal. He might as well join his friends in the Sports Hall, and make the most of having the day off lessons.

With a fairly light heart, he ran along the girls’ corridor to the sleeping area, and through the archway. One of the bedroom doors was open, Linda’s he guessed, and most of the girls were in there. A few glanced at him as he walked past, but made no comment, as he went along to his room, G11. He opened the door, and walked in. The room was undisturbed from his previous visit, blank and uncoloured everywhere. He sat down by the Interface he had seen Sarah use, and clicked onto the screen.

“Hello G11,” the screen greeted him. “Do you wish to select the décor of your room?”

Underneath was a choice of Y or N. He selected N, and a new prompt appeared. “Please type in requirement.” He typed ‘sportswear’. The Interface hesitated for a moment, and then asked him if he wanted to select or design. He wondered what that might mean, but clicked on No. The Interface announced that it would deliver a standard sports kit for wear, was he happy with that? Again, he pressed Yes. Steve was pleased with his mastery of the equipment, and eagerly watched the chute for the delivery of his request.

Nothing happened for a few moments, and he looked back to the screen. “Please place your current clothing in the disposal chute for recycling,” the screen told him. Sighing, he took his belt off, and then removed his clothes, and dumped them into the disposal chute. After a few seconds, the clothes were sucked back into the machine, and the chute on the other side chuntered, and then dumped a small package of clothing.

His self-satisfaction turned to horror when he saw what it was. He shook out the folds to confirm his suspicions, but the nature of the fabric, Lycra rather than cotton, had already told him something was wrong. He had been issued a light blue leotard, and a matching blue skirt. Damn the Machine! That was not what he meant by sportswear! He threw the offending items down on the floor, and stared sullenly at the interface screen again. “Please type in requirement,” it said again. He typed in ‘shorts’. It considered this for a moment, and then the screen told him. “This item is not available to G11 at the present time.” He tried again, with the same result, and swore at the screen.

He considered the situation. The Machine had convinced itself that he was a girl. It was, therefore, perversely logical that it would provide him as a default with girl’s sportswear. He could not, however, understand why it specifically barred him from ordering shorts as an alternative. It had been the same when Sarah had tried to order him some trousers to go with his belt. He decided to try a different approach, to see if he could figure things out.

He typed ‘trainers’ onto the interface. It considered this for a moment, and then told him the request had been accepted. He waited, and stared at the chute for what might appear. Trainers were trainers after all. The Machine wouldn’t be able to make them too girly.

There was a clunk, and he stared at what had been provided, unable to believe his eyes. They were trainers all right, and in his size, but both the laces and the flashes on the sides were powder pink. He’d look as ridiculously girly in them as he had in his stupid shoes with buckles! He took them out of the chute, and threw them across the room again. Exasperated, he stood up, and went to sit on his bed. He picked up the blue bag, and looked inside. He pulled out the photograph of him with his Mum and Dad, looked at it, and smiled wistfully. If only they were here to help him out!

There was a beep from the door. “G9 and G13” the Machine’s voice told him. He stood up, naked, and wondered what to do. Perhaps he should just tell them that he was about to take a shower. Then he remembered that he had agreed to inform them in advance of anything like that. He cursed quietly. There was no way he was going to open the door naked, so he walked over to the discarded gym kit, and picked it up. Looking at the leotard, he decided that it was too complicated for him to try and put on. Instead, he stepped into the tiny blue Lycra skirt, and pulled it up to his waist. Like the skirt on Karen, it was preposterously short, but at least it covered him with a modicum of modesty. Gritting his teeth, he pushed the panel on the side of the door that would open it.

“Hi Steve!” Sarah said, as she appeared with her friend Jeanette in the doorframe. She looked down at his waist and saw the gym skirt. “Oh, were you thinking of getting some exercise then?”

“No!” Steve protested. “I was trying to get the Machine to give me some proper clothes to wear!”

Both girls were a little taken aback by the venom of his outburst. “Well it’s good to exercise,” Jeanette said, smiling at him.

“Yes,” Sarah agreed, still smiling. “Although you might be more comfortable in a pair of shorts,” she added, giggling a little.

“The Machine wouldn’t let me have any,” he muttered sullenly.

Their expressions were puzzled. “Well I don’t know why that should be,” Sarah said. “I tried to order some trousers from my Interface; jeans actually. They were quite nice, blue with a bit of a stonewash look.”

“Really?” Jeanette said, with genuine interest.

“Yes,” Sarah went on. “It told me that I couldn’t order it until the Learning Time was over, but there didn’t seem to be any other problem.”

They both turned to look at Steve, to see what he made of this new information. “Well maybe I’m not doing it right,” he said, sullenly.

“Shall I have a look for you?” Sarah asked him, still smiling. He shrugged, but stood aside to give her access to the room and the Interface. She clacked at the keyboard for a few moments, with no noticeable result.

“Well that’s odd,” she said at last. “It seems specific to you. It’s saying that G11 can’t have them at this particular time, not all G numbers or anything.”

“Let’s have a look!” Jeanette said, stepping forward to stare at the screen. “Yes, that’s right,” she agreed. “It’s specific to you Steve.”

“Oh God,” Steve exclaimed in despair. “So it’s not going to let me order any trousers or anything like that?”

“It looks that way,” Sarah agreed. “Poor Steve! What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” he snapped. “Well when Karen and I go and see the bloody thing tomorrow, we’ll sort it out.”

“But what about now?” Jeanette went on. “Did you put your trousers in for recycling?”

“I had to!” he snapped again. “I didn’t think. Oh God, now I’m stuck!”

The two girls looked at him in sympathy. “Well it’ll only be for today,” Sarah reassured him. “Once you’ve sorted things out, you can have trousers whenever you want.”

“Well I want them now!” he snapped, not looking at them. Jeanette and Sarah looked at each other. There was nothing much they could do to help, and he was obviously quite distraught. Jeanette nodded towards the door, and Sarah took the hint that they should leave.

“Well what we called to say, “Sarah said. “Is that Jeanette wants to have a shower if that’s all right. You won’t try and get in there will you? Not until she’s finished anyway.”

They both looked at him eagerly for his response. He shook his head. “No, you’ll be fine,” he said at last. “I’m not a pervert.”

“We didn’t think you were!” Sarah protested. “But it is, well, awkward.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “No, you’ll be fine, Jeanette. I’ll keep myself to myself until it’s time to eat.”

Both girls smiled gratefully at him, and went back to Jeanette’s room. He sat himself back down on the bed, and stared at his legs stretching out from beneath the flimsy pelmet of a skirt. How could he have been so stupid as to surrender the trousers? He had been so eager to go and play football with his friends that he hadn’t thought through what the Machine’s reaction was likely to be. Now he was stuck again. The damn thing was refusing to let him order anything remotely masculine, even girl’s trousers. Feeling desperately sorry for himself, he resolved to miss dinner entirely, and try and meet up with Karen afterwards in private. That way, at least, he wouldn’t be subject to the constant ridicule of his friends. The thought of meeting with Karen to plan their confrontation with the Machine cheered him a little. With her brainpower on his side, he was sure of a positive outcome.

Chapter Three

The stress of the day had got to Steve perhaps more than he realised. Uncomfortable as he was in his tiny Lycra skirt, he lay down on the bed to wallow in his sorrows, but instead, found himself falling asleep. He was awoken some time later by an announcement from the Machine.

“Attention,” it began. “Lesson time is now over. You may change out of Learning Uniform. Dinner will be served in one hour.”

Bleary eyed, he raised his head and looked around himself. His hand slipped down to his waist, and felt the unfamiliar material around him. It hadn’t been a nightmare; he really was stuck here in the girls sleeping area wearing a girl’s gym skirt, and with no hope of finding a pair of trousers to put on!

He stood up, and wondered what he should do. There was no way he was going to dinner dressed like this. The shame and humiliation would be too much. He went across to the Interface, hoping against hope that its ban on him wearing trousers might have been lifted. He typed in the word when prompted by the Interface, and was greeted with the now familiar response.

“That item is not available to G11 at the present time.”

He swore at it, and stood again, walking aimlessly around his room. He wanted the toilet, but remembered his promise to Sarah that he would let her know if he was going to use it. Doing that would mean going out into the corridor dressed as he was, and facing the ridicule of the all the girls. No way was he going to do that. He would simply wait until they had all gone off to the Refectory for dinner, and then relieve himself.

Then he remembered about his promised meeting with Karen. They had to get together to plan their assault on the Machine’s madness. He had to get a message to her somehow that he was coming along after dinner, and to arrange a place they could meet where no-one would see him in this ridiculous skirt. What was worse, of course, was that he had lost her sacrifice of the trousers so stupidly by asking for some gym wear.  In a fit of pique, he yanked the little skirt off himself, and threw it into the corner of the room. He was naked now, and a little cold, but he was prepared to face that, rather than the ignominy of having to wear a skirt any longer than absolutely necessary.

He sat by the Interface, and typed in a message to Karen, B15 as the Machine insisted on calling her. He told her simply that he wasn’t coming along to dinner, but that he would see her afterwards in the Math room. He stepped away, and walked around the room again for a few moments, before returning to the Interface, and looking up some fiction he might read. He picked out a story of two adventurers fighting their way through the jungles on old Earth, and settled to read it.

“Attention,” the Machine said at last. “Dinner will be served in one half of one hour.”

He huffed to himself, feeling hungry as well as cold now, but continued with his reading. The story served to take his mind off his predicament for a time, but he then realised that he would have to wear something for his rendezvous with Karen. He closed the text, and saw that he had a message. He opened it. “OK,” it said. Karen wasn’t one to use superfluous words. Idly, and without hope, he searched through the available clothing options. He clicked on a pair of girl’s trousers out of desperation, but was told that the item wasn’t available to him. All that was on offer was a range of skirts and tops as well as more elaborate dresses, none of which appealed to him. He would have to wear something however, he realised. It was simply a case of picking the least offensive one.

If he was going to have a skirt, at least he’d have one a bit longer than the horrible Learning Uniform the Machine had selected. He looked at his choices. The longer ones tended to flare out more, from what he could see. Much to his chagrin, the Interface had produced a reasonable facsimile of himself on which it displayed the various garments as if he was wearing them. The stupid facsimile smiled benignly at him from the screen, as if delighted with the prospect of wearing girl’s clothes.

There was a chime from the door. “G9 and G13,” the Machine announced. He cursed again. What did Jeanette and Sarah want now?

He stomped across the room, and slipped back into the Lycra gym skirt, before opening the door. “Hi Steve,” Sarah said brightly again. “Are you ready to come along to dinner? We thought we might come with you in case you were shy or anything.” The two girls smiled benignly at him, waiting for his response. Jeanette’s gaze fell on his stupid little skirt again.

“I’m not sure I’d wear that to dinner,” she advised. She and Sarah had changed into simple T-shirts and blue jeans. He felt a stab of jealousy at their freedom, but swallowed it before reacting.

“I’m not coming,” he said. “I’ll do without dinner today I think.”

“Oh you can’t do that!” Sarah exclaimed. “Can he Jeanette?”

“No!” the other girl agreed, with an alarmed expression on her face. “You’ve got to come along!”

“Yes!” Sarah agreed. “I know it’s not easy, having to go dressed in a skirt, but people will understand.”

“Yeah,” Jeanette agreed. “They know it’s not your fault.”

“That’s right. Come on, we’ll help you choose something if you want.” Sarah tried to get around him and into the room.

“No it’s all right,” Steve protested. “I’m not that hungry.”

“Don’t be silly,” Sarah went on, pushing past Steve, successfully this time, and strolling across to the Interface. “You can’t go starving yourself just because the Machine has made a mistake.”

“No,” agreed Jeanette, slipping past Steve to join her friend. “That would be ridiculous.”

Steve allowed the door to shut with a resigned look on his face. He walked slowly across to where the girls stood, staring intently at the screen.

“Hmm,” Sarah said, her fingers tripping across the keyboard with ease. “It’s still not letting you have any trousers or jeans”

“Because it hates me,” Steve said bitterly.

“Well it’s odd, because the rest of us can order them,” Sarah went on. “So it’s not just because you’re a G number.”

”Perhaps it’s because it knows you’re a boy really,” Jeanette suggested.

“Well how would that work?” Steve demanded angrily. “If it thinks I’m a boy, then it should just stop this nonsense, and let me get on with my life!”

“Well don’t have a go at me about it!” Jeanette replied, hurt by his venom. “I was only trying to help.”

“I suppose if it was trying to get you used to being a girl, it might think that you should wear skirts and dresses all the time,” Sarah mused. “But whatever the reason, we can’t order you anything except skirts and dresses.”

Steve stomped across the room, causing his flimsy Lycra skirt to flip up. Jeanette averted her eyes quickly and stared back at the screen. “Well since you’ve got to wear a skirt, which one do you like best?” Sarah said.

“I don’t like any of them,” Steve said petulantly, staring at the wall.

“Well you haven’t even looked at them!” Sarah protested.

“Yes I have. I looked at them before you came in,” he confessed. “I was thinking what I could wear to meet Karen later.”

The two girls looked at each other for a moment. “Well there must be something here that you could tolerate,” Sarah suggested. “What about this one? It looks quite nice on your facsimile.”

“Yes,” agreed Jeanette, cheerfully.

Reluctantly Steve walked back across to the Interface, and looked at the screen. The little figure of himself stood centre screen and smiling, wearing a long floral skirt.

“What do you think?” Sarah asked him.

“Are you serious?” he demanded. “It’s got flowers on it!”

She looked back at the screen, as if to check. “Yes,” she agreed. “They look quite nice.”

“Well, you wear it then!” he snapped.

Jeanette and Sarah glanced at each other for a moment, and looked a little shamefaced. “Well we would,” Jeanette began, “but Linda said we all ought to have some sort of protest about the Learning Uniform.”

“That’s right,” Sarah agreed. “We’re all going to wear trousers all the time, until the Machine changes its mind.”

Steve stared from one to the other. “Well how’s that going to help?”

“I’m not sure really,” Sarah confessed. “But Linda and the others felt really strongly about it, so we thought we ought to go along with it.” Jeanette nodded her agreement.

“I don’t really mind,” Sarah went on. “I think the Uniform looks quite smart,”

“Yes,” Jeanette agreed. “But we don’t want to upset the others do we?” Sarah shook her head.

“So if I go along to dinner,” Steve went on. “I’ll be the only person there wearing a skirt?”

“Well, assuming Karen’s got changed I suppose,” Sarah agreed.

“Well in that case there’s no way I’m doing it!” Steve said, walking away again, causing his little skirt to flip up once more.

Jeanette looked a little embarrassed. “Steve,” she said, and he turned to face her. “I know it’s not your fault, but,” she hesitated for a moment before continuing. “But if you wear a skirt that short, you really ought to wear knickers or something underneath. Every time you move about, we can see your bum!”

Steve visibly coloured. He had felt exposed enough in the tiny little skirt, but it hadn’t occurred to him the extent. He shut his eyes in shame and embarrassment, and tears started to come again.

“Oh, poor Steve!” Jeanette gasped. “I didn’t mean to upset you!” She came across to him, and placed her hands on his shoulders. “I shouldn’t have said anything really. I am stupid!”

He shook his head. “No, it’s all right,” he told her. “I hadn’t realised how short it was, that’s all.”

Sarah stood up, and stood by his side. “I know it’s all upsetting,” she told him gently. “But I really think you ought to pick something, and come to dinner with us, just to show the Machine that you’re not going to give in to it.”

“That’s right!” agreed Jeanette. “It probably wants you to stay in here sulking about having to wear a skirt.”

“Yes!” Sarah agreed enthusiastically. “Shall I order you the nice floral one then?” she went on encouragingly. “And pick you out a nice top to go with it?”

Steve hesitated for a moment. “Well I am a bit hungry.”

“I’m sure you are,” Sarah agreed. “Come on, let’s get you sorted out.”

“Dinner will be served in fifteen minutes,” the Machine informed them in its metallic tones. “Please make your way to the Refectory, which is signposted from the sleeping quarters.”

The three of them stared at each other, waiting for Steve to make his decision. “We’ll make sure no one’s horrid to you,” Jeanette told him. Still he hesitated. It was going to be hell walking into dinner wearing another bloody skirt, especially since it was his own fault that he had lost the trousers Karen had given him. But he was hungry, and he was going to have to order something to wear for his meeting with Karen in any case. No one could really blame him for the Machine’s madness about his gender.

“All right,” he said at last. “Order it for me.”

Smiling, Sarah turned back to the Interface and typed the request in. “Oh,” she said. “It says it wants you to put your gym stuff in for recycling first. We’d best wait outside,” she went on, with a knowing look at Jeanette. “You won’t want us to see you naked will you?” She giggled a little to herself.

“Give us a shout if you need any help putting any of it on,” Jeanette told him, touching his arm as she passed him on her way to the door. They both stepped through, and the door shut. Steve slipped out of the gym skirt, and went across the room to pick up the unworn leotard and trainers. He threw them angrily into the recycling chute, and waited for the delivery of his outfit for dinner. He took the opportunity of using the toilet while he knew Sarah was out of her room.

The outfit arrived with a clunk, and Steve took it out. As well as the skirt and top, the Machine had seen fit to provide him with a bra and a pair of lacy panties. He threw these aside in disgust, and stepped into the skirt. It felt strange, especially against his naked body, but he felt less exposed than in the gym skirt. He pulled the matching yellow top over his head. It felt tight and clingy, but it fitted well enough. It would have to do. He looked, and saw that the Machine had also provided a pair of girl’s shoes, black, with a small heel. He shuddered. They could stay here with the knickers and bra. He would go to dinner barefoot.

“G9 and G13,” his door told him. Sighing, he took one last look down at the unfamiliar sight of himself in the mirror, before walking across to the door, and pressing the button to open it. The two girls were waiting there, and looked him up and down as he appeared to them.

“It looks good on you!” Sarah announced, with some enthusiasm.

“Yes,” agreed Jeanette. “You need to straighten the skirt a little. I’ll do it for you.” She grabbed the waistband of his skirt, and turned it around a little for him, so that the little bow was now at the front.

“Tut, didn’t you get a slip with it or anything?” Sarah went on. “It’s a bit see-through.”

“No,” he said. “There were some knickers, but I’ve not put them on.”

Sarah raised her eyebrows at this, and then shrugged. “Well it’s up to you I suppose.”

“What about shoes?” Jeanette asked, looking down at his feet.

Steve indicated across the room to the discarded footwear. “I didn’t fancy them. I’ll be all right like this.”

The girls looked a little dubious, but shrugged at one another. “All right,” Sarah said at last. “Shall we get along to dinner then?” She and Jeanette smiled at Steve, as he stood on the threshold of his room, reluctant to leave its relative safety, and to enter the public areas of the ship dressed in his floral skirt. Their friendly smiles suggested to him that it would be all right however, and holding his breath, he took a step forward into the corridor. The door swished shut behind him. Suddenly he was acutely aware of his situation. He was now out in public, wearing a floral skirt and tight fitting top. There was no going back now.

“I think most people have already gone along,” Sarah said. “We shouldn’t see anyone now until we get to the Refectory.”

“Yes,” agreed Jeanette. “Come on, let’s go shall we?”

They both stood aside to allow Steve to move forward. His breath racing and his heart beating quickly, he did so. And in a line of three, they made their way along the empty corridor to the Archway at the end. True to its word, the Machine had signed the way to the new Refectory, and they walked, still three abreast, along the corridors in the direction indicated.

“Are you all right Steve?” Sarah asked him solicitously. He nodded in reply. He was anxious now, and having second thoughts about his decision to attend dinner. The skirt flapped unfamiliarly around his legs, and the top felt unusually clingy against his chest. As they turned a corner, he saw a group of girls in front of them, dressed, like Sarah and Jeanette, in T-shirts and jeans. He heard their voices, and deliberately slowed so that there was no danger of catching them up.

“Don’t worry Steve!” Jeanette told him encouragingly. “You’ll be fine.”

“Yes,” Sarah agreed, as they made their way along. Soon they were at the doorway of what was evidently the Refectory. There was a general hubbub coming from within, and with the double doors leading to it open, Steve could see a range of tables and people sitting at them. Still some ten yards or so from the doors, he stopped in his tracks.

“Come on!” Jeanette urged him. “It won’t be that bad.”

He grinned nervously, and holding his arm, she and Sarah led him forward to the door. They stepped through still linked. At first no one paid them any heed, engrossed as they were in their own conversations, but then, inevitably, someone noticed Steve and what he was wearing.

“Oh my God look!” he heard Janet’s voice call out. “It’s the new girl back in a skirt!”

All the heads in the room turned to look at the latecomers, and there was a cacophony of laughter at Steve’s predicament.

“I knew you’d get back into a skirt sooner or later!” Colin mocked loudly, causing more laughter.

“Well I think he looks very nice!” Jeanette shouted back, obviously affronted. The laughter continued, and Steve began to wish he had stuck to his original resolve to stay in his room and miss dinner.

“Over here Steve!” he heard Bryn call. He turned to see his friend, together with Richard. “We’ve saved you a space.”

“Trust you to try and get the only bit of skirt to sit next to you!” Colin retorted, causing another round of mocking laughter.

“He’s sitting with us!” Sarah announced to the room. Jeanette nodded, and they both led Steve across to a table where there were three remaining seats. They were to share with Janet and her friend Ellen, and another girl called Lynne. There were still hoots and catcalls accompanying their progress, and by the time he managed to sit down, Steve was acutely embarrassed and blushing.

Slowly the attention turned elsewhere, much to Steve’s relief, and he seriously began to study the meal options displayed in front of him. He made his selection, and tried to be as inconspicuous as possible for a boy in a skirt. The other girls at the table were not paying him particular attention for a moment, and he was quite relieved about that. Perhaps they could all find something to talk about other than him.

It did not last long, however, Janet, having finished a conversation with Ellen, turned to him.

“Why did you decide to wear a skirt then Steve? There were plenty of trousers to choose from.”

“The Machine wouldn’t let me have them,” he muttered in reply.

“It’s true,” Sarah butted in, supporting him. “I tried to order him a pair of jeans, but it just said that G11 couldn’t have them at this time.”

Janet looked first at Sarah, and then at Steve. “Why?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Steve responded miserably. “But I’m not putting up with it for long. Karen and I are going to put it all right in the morning.”

Janet raised her eyebrows. “Well,” she said. “I hope for your sake that you do.”

Steve felt a hand on his shoulder and jumped. Turning slightly he saw that it was Bryn standing behind him. “Wotcha mate,” Bryn said. “I know you’re supposed to be a girl, but don’t you think wearing a skirt, and sitting with them for dinner is taking it a bit far?”

Steve grimaced at him, and wondered whether to say something disparaging about his company. The girls all glared at Bryn in an unfriendly manner. “I’m all right,” Steve said eventually. “They’re being nice to me at any rate.”

“I bet they are!” Bryn went on. “Dressed like that, they probably think you’re one of them.”

“Oh don’t be so childish, Bryn,” Janet snapped. “It’s bad enough for Steve as it is, without you rubbing it in. Personally I think he’s really brave to come along to dinner in a skirt.”

“Yeah,” Ellen agreed. “I bet you wouldn’t have the nerve!”

“You bet I wouldn’t!” Bryn retorted. He turned back to Steve. “Well if you’re sure you want to stay here.”

“I’m sure,” Steve assured him. “I’ll see you later.” Bryn shrugged, and walked back to his table full of boys. Janet looked at Steve, and smiled at him.

“Don’t worry about him,” she told him.

“I won’t,” Steve replied, returning the smile. A bell indicated that the meals were ready, and they all stood up to go and collect them from the hatches. Steve stood in a queue for the choice he had made. Seeing Stuart and Colin in the queue, he immediately wished he had checked what Sarah and Jeanette had chosen, so he could have taken some safety in their company.

“Well don’t you look pretty?” Colin said disparagingly to him. Steve simply smiled back, and hoped that this would disarm the other boy. “Still, you always were a bit of a pouf. I bet you’re enjoying being a girl aren’t you?”

“It’s only for the day,” Steve muttered. Colin wasn’t to be put off so easily. He turned so he was facing Steve, and grinned menacingly at him.

 “I would have thought you’d have worn a bra though, being a pouf. I’d have thought you’d have loved to have boobs like a girl!”

Steve knew he was being goaded for a fight. He and Colin had had many over the years, and although Steve normally lost in a straight physical contest, he usually got the better of the red haired boy verbally. Today, however, he was at a loss how to respond. Colin sensed his unaccustomed vulnerability, and pressed his advantage home. “Well it’s good to see you looking so pretty,” he sneered again, poking Steve in the chest.

“Yes it is,” Steve heard a voice behind him. He turned, and saw that Karen had joined them in the queue. She stood behind him, taller than both he and Colin, and Steve felt a strange sense of relief. She was wearing a blue sweatshirt and jeans. Steve smiled up at her, and she returned the gesture. Colin muttered something under his breath, and waited in line.

“So you changed back into a skirt?” Karen asked him, rather matter of fact, raising her eyebrows quizzically.

Steve looked down at the floor. “Yes,” he admitted. “I didn’t mean to though. I put your trousers in for recycling, and assumed I’d be able to get some others.”

“No need to apologise,” Karen told him. “It suits you well enough. I had to get out of your bloody skirt as well. It was far too short. I don’t mean to be difficult, but if we can’t get the Machine to sort this out, I don’t think I’ll be able to swap with you again.”

Steve stared at her, and smiled nervously. “Well, we’ll have it sorted tomorrow won’t we? So it’ll only be tomorrow morning we’ve got to worry about.”

They waited in turn, and took their meals, and returned to their separate tables. The girls at Steve’s table were talking about the Learning Uniform, and how unfair it was. He didn’t bother to join in, but was secretly grateful they had found something else other than his clothing to talk about. The food was reasonable, and at least filled him. Once he had finished, he stood to return the plate for recycling.

“You look really foxy!” someone behind him said. He jumped in surprise, and turned to see Sylvia standing behind him with her frankly fat friend Sandra.

“Um, thanks,” he muttered.

“Well you do!” Sylvia went on, with obvious enthusiasm. “You’ve got sexy little legs. No wonder the Machine thinks you’re a girl.” She smiled, and he sensed that her comment wasn’t supposed to be unkind, although it made him uncomfortable. Both she and Sandra watched him as he disposed of the plate, and made his way back to his table.

Richard came across later, and asked if he wanted to play football or anything after dinner. He was grateful to still be on the invitation list for such boyish activities, but he had his meeting with Karen to deal with, and beyond that knew that he would have to play in a leotard if he played at all. He declined, and Richard shrugged, before going off with the majority of the boys for the game.

The girls drifted away in smaller groups. Those at his table had turned to a discussion of the latest Math problem they were wrestling with, one that would return in the morning to haunt him. Math was hardly his strongest subject. Apart from the obvious relief that the meeting with the Machine in the morning might bring, he was also secretly pleased that it was going to mean he’d miss most of the Math lesson.

“What do you think Steve?”

He was surprised at being suddenly brought into the conversation by Janet in this way. He hadn’t really been listening, so he simply shrugged his head. “Steve’s not so good at Math,” Jeanette reminded them all. “But he’s just so good at painting and stuff, aren’t you Steve?” He shrugged again. “Well you are!” she went on.

“That’s true,” Ellen put in, looking at him appraisingly. “I saw that picture you did of a waterfall the other week. It was beautiful.”

“Oh it wasn’t that good,” he said, blushing a little.

“It was brilliant!” Ellen continued. “I wish I could paint like that sometimes.”

“Well I suppose we should be getting back to our rooms,” Sarah said, standing. “Are you coming Steve?”

“No,” he responded, looking around the room, “I’ve got to have a chat with Karen first, about tomorrow morning.”

Sarah smiled at him. “Okay. Good luck!”

Karen was still chatting with Mandy for some minutes after the other girls had left the Refectory, and Steve waited patiently at his now empty table for her. His thoughts turned to his parents once more, and how they would have simply and easily found a way out of this predicament he was in. He glanced over at Karen, nodding knowingly at something Mandy had said. Her hair was tied back in a long ponytail, reaching half way down her back, and her eyes spoke of an older and wiser soul than his. He had faith in her, and her ability to think her way through the problem they both faced. She turned, and caught him looking at her. He quickly looked away, blushing a little. She gave him a smile, and carried on with her conversation.

It was around ten minutes before the two girls stood, and Mandy left the room, down the corridor he knew led to the girls’ sleeping quarters. Karen strode across the room to join him, and sat down across the table from him. “Did you want to get off to the Math room then?” she asked. He felt strangely nervous with her sitting so near to him, which was exacerbated by her appearance of assured calm. He shook his head.

“No. Here’s as good as anywhere,” he said, glancing into her eyes just for a second, before turning his head away.

“You look quite at home in that skirt,” she told him. “Although I’m not sure you should go commando with it.”

He blushed further. “What do you mean?”

“Going without knickers,” she went on, evenly. “It’s a bit clingy. When you stand up, it makes your profile look a bit, well, obvious.”

Oh God, he thought to himself. He had exposed himself to the whole Refectory, as well as turning up in a skirt! Why hadn’t anyone told him? “Well I won’t need to wear a skirt any more will I? Once we’ve gone to see the Machine anyway, and made it see sense.”

She smiled again. “Well I’m afraid it’ll probably deliver you a skirt tomorrow morning. You’ll have to wear that for the meeting. But apart from that, I’m sure you’re right. We’ll put things right soon enough.”

He felt relieved by her assurance, and smiled nervously at her. “What are we going to say to it then?”

“Well,” she began. “I think we’d better just point out that I’m a girl, and that you’re a boy. If needs be we can show it can’t we?”

He nodded, but was worried that this approach might not work. “But it knows what I’ve got,” he said. “This morning, it said it was something like a genital anomaly.”

“Yes, it said the same to me. But I’ve got a secret weapon for it tomorrow. I’m bleeding! Like a stuck pig as it happens. If it doesn’t believe that makes me a girl, I don’t know what would work.”

It took Steve a couple of seconds to remember his human biology lessons, and fully comprehend what she was talking about. The ease and comfort with which she raised the subject contrasted starkly with the furtive giggling conversations about periods he had had with Richard and Bryn.

“Well that might work for you,” he mused, “but what about me? Will I need to prove I’m a boy in the same sort of way?”

She tilted her head to one side, considering this, and then smiled. “Well I suppose it won’t be so easy. Perhaps you could just squirt some sperm at it!” His mouth fell open in shock. Had she really just said that? “There’s no need to blush,” she went on, leaning forward across the table. “I do have some idea what boys are like.”

She was right, he was blushing. He blushed easily, he always had. “Well I’m not sure it would be that easy.”

She leaned back and shrugged. “Well I doubt it would come to that,” she asserted. “You might need to show it your Willy, but I doubt if you’ll have to put it to use.” She stared at him for a few moments. “So is that all right then? I’ll meet you at breakfast, and we’ll go straight along after that.”

He nodded at her. “Yes. Thanks, Karen. I’m not sure I’d be able to do it on my own.”

“That’s all right. I’m in the same pickle after all, aren’t I? Don’t worry about it.”

“I won’t.” He hesitated for a moment. “But there is one other thing.”

“What?”

“Well, I think I’d feel a bit more comfortable about it if I was doing the meeting wearing trousers. We couldn’t swap again, could we? Before breakfast or something?”

She sunk back into her chair, and looked across the table at his pleading eyes. “I’m sorry Steve,” she said. “I understand what you’re saying, but your skirts are really too small for me. I mean, all the girls are complaining about them, but wearing yours today was a nightmare. You should have heard the things your mates were saying about it.”

Steve looked down at the floor. He could imagine what they would have said about seeing Karen in a skirt that was far too short for her, and too tight. He knew too, that, had things been different, he would have joined in the banter. “Well I get all sorts of things said to me about wearing skirts as well,” he complained.

“But at least yours fit!” Karen exclaimed. “No, Steve. I’m sorry, but I’m not going through that again. It’s only for the morning anyway. Once we’ve convinced the Machine that you’re a boy, it’ll give you some trousers to wear. I’ll have to wear a Learning Uniform skirt then, you should feel sorry for me!”

Their eyes met, and Karen could see that Steve was still miserable at the prospect. She thought for a while, searching for some words of comfort, while he tried to make himself look even more miserable in the hope that she would relent. “You look good in a skirt anyway,” she said at last. “I wouldn’t worry about it.” This seemed to make matters worse rather than better, and Steve, with a pained expression on his face, looked dolefully across at the wall.

“I’m sorry Steve, but there’s no way I’m going to do it again,” she said with finality. “It was almost as bad as being naked, wearing a tiny little skirt that I couldn’t even do up properly. I’m sorry, but you’ll just have to put up with it. Maybe you could get one of your friends to swap with you for the morning?”

He looked back at her. “What do you mean?”

“Well, Richard or Bryn, they’re supposed to be your friends aren’t they? Maybe one of them would wear a skirt for you, just for the morning anyway.” Steve considered this. Could he really ask Richard or Bryn to do that? Would they agree to wear a skirt to help him out? He doubted it. “You never know,” Karen went on. “They might have always wondered what it was like to wear one. They’re more your size than I am as well.”

That last bit was true. He looked at her. There was no way she was going to be swayed, and deep inside, he knew that it was unreasonable to ask her. It would only be for the morning anyway, until they had put the Machine’s mistake right. He smiled at her. “It doesn’t matter,” he said at last. “If one of us has to wear a skirt, it might as well be me.”

She smiled back, and put her hands across the table to take his. His heart missed a beat as she took his hands in hers. “That’s the spirit,” she said, squeezing his fingers gently. “Now I’ve got a bit of study to do before going to sleep. I’ll get off. I’ll see you in here for breakfast, okay?”

He nodded in reply, his hands still held firm in hers. He didn’t want her to let them go, and she stood, still holding them until the last minute, when her height meant that she had to let them slip. He stood as well, and they stared at each other for a few moments more.

“Well I suppose we’d better go,” Steve said at last, their eyes locked onto each other’s in a sort of embrace that neither of them knew how to escape from, or take further.

“Yes,” she said. But neither of them moved. Hesitantly, Steve stood on tiptoes, and leaned across the table.

“Thanks Karen,” he said, in a barely audible whisper, and planted a gentle kiss on her cheek. They looked at each other in confusion for a few moments more, before Steve quickly turned, and rushed down the corridor towards the girls’ sleeping quarters.

Once out of sight of the Refectory, he stopped, and leaned against the wall. What had that been about? He had never kissed one of his companions before. Well, that was not entirely true. He had kissed Richard in part of a game once, a few months earlier. They had taken turns to pretend each of them was a girl, and kissed. He blushed again at the memory. Oh God, that was why the Machine had decided he was a girl! Because he had pretended to be one with Richard that afternoon! If only he could go back in time, and make sure it didn’t happen! Why had they done it? He couldn’t remember. It was just something that seemed to be a laugh at the time.

But kissing Karen had been different. That had been entirely his idea. He had wanted to show his gratitude to her in some way, and it had seemed the best thing to do. But why had it made his stomach jump so, and why had she looked at him for so long after he had done it? She was so tall and assured, and he had allowed her to take the lead in planning their confrontation with the Machine. It had seemed the natural thing to do, because she was so clever. She had felt it was natural too, for her to be in the lead. He shook himself to try and clear his head. Well at least after the meeting he could get back to being a boy again. Maybe then he could make sense of his feelings about Karen and their kiss.

He walked along the corridor, aware now of the movement of the skirt against his bare legs. His profile, as Karen had called it, had been raised, and he had to stop for a few moments more to allow it to subside. He really should have worn some knickers to stop this happening. If any of the girls saw him as he was, they would be sure to notice, and to comment. Of course, trying to make himself subside for a time only made matters worse. Far from responding to his wishes, that part of his body renewed its excitement more than once before he felt smooth enough in profile to re enter the girls’ sleeping quarters.

He walked through the archway, and smiled at Jacquie and Gloria, who were standing outside their doors wearing nothing but towels wrapped around themselves. They pulled them up higher over their bosoms indignantly as he passed, and stopped whatever conversation they had been having, watching instead his progress towards his room.

He reached the door, and was about to open it, when the door to his left opened, and Jeanette stepped out. “Hi Steve!” she greeted him brightly. “I thought it was you. Sarah and I are just having a cup of cocoa before bed. Do you want to come in and join us? Please?”

Steve was taken aback by the invitation. He thought about refusing, but remembered how kind the two girls had been to him over dinner. His profile stirred again of its own accord, and he decided that it wasn’t to be trusted in its current state. “I’d love to,” he said at last. “I just need to do something. I’ll be round in a minute.”

“Okay!” Jeanette responded, smiling brightly again. “We’ll get you a cup ready.”

He opened his door, and walked through, and then across to the Interface.  There on the floor was what he was looking for. He picked them up, and grimaced. He was hardly comfortable with the idea of slipping on this pair of white lace panties that the Machine had provided him with earlier, but the alternative of exposing his lack of control to Jeanette and Sarah was even worse. Grimly, he stepped into them, and slid them up his legs. Stupid as the Machine was in regard to his gender, it seemed to know what size he was. The panties fitted well, and he eased himself into them, before allowing his floral skirt to drop down again. They were tight, which was good. Perhaps they would hold his errant member in sufficient check. He turned, left his room, and signalled his arrival at the door marked G13.

Sarah opened the door, and stood aside for him to enter. Jeanette’s bedroom was the same size as his, but that was its only similarity. She had taken full advantage of the options to decorate and individualize. The walls were coloured in a light lilac, and here and there, there were pictures. One of her parents, and two or three of horses, her obsession, he remembered. He had teased her about it often enough, telling her that horses made excellent glue, and how they could be eaten. He had even reduced her to tears once or twice when in company with Richard; he had pressed the teasing too far. He winced at the memory, and wondered why she was being so pleasant to him in return.

“Hi Steve,” she said again, standing by her Interface. She held a steaming cup out to him, which he took gratefully. Elegant, even in her jeans and T-shirt, she sat herself down on her bed, and signalled that he could take the chair by the Interface. Sarah sat on the opposite side of the bed, for which Jeanette had chosen an elaborate floral cover, not dissimilar to the material of his skirt.

“We’re going to miss you when you’ve gone,” Sarah said to him. He shook his head in puzzlement. “Tomorrow, when you go back to the boys.”

“Yes,” Jeanette agreed, smiling pleasantly. “It’s been fun having you to look after.”

“Well I’m very grateful for all your help,” he muttered, remembering both that, and his previous behaviour towards them. “You’ve done up the room nice,” he said, to change the subject.

“Thanks!” Jeanette responded, looking genuinely pleased with his comment. “I’m not sure it’s entirely right, but at least I’ve made a start.”

Steve took a sip of the cocoa. It was too hot to drink properly, but its chocolate and milky taste was a comfort. “Do you like cocoa?” Sarah asked him, sipping her own.

“It’s fine. I don’t have it very often.”

“Oh but I’m addicted!” Sarah gasped in confession. “I’m addicted to anything with chocolate in it!”

Jeanette giggled. “Me too. But I try not to have too much. It makes you fat.”

Sarah put on a pained expression. “I know, but I love it so much!”

“You’re not fat,” Steve told her. It was true enough. Sarah was a slim girl, with a figure, although young, that would never run to bulk.

“Thank you,” she said, again with a look of genuine pleasure, “nor are you.”

“No,” Jeanette agreed. “There’s not many of us that would look as good as you in that skirt. My hips would be too big for a start!”

Steve looked down at his middle, and wondered what she meant. His hips were narrow, that was true, but all he could see was how ridiculous he looked as a boy wearing a floral skirt.

“Speaking of clothes,” Sarah began. “I’m not too happy about the knickers the Machine gave me. They’re a bit tight and clingy. I’m going to look through to see if there’s some cotton ones in amongst the options tomorrow. I don’t like nylon knickers, even if they’re pretty.”

“No,” Jeanette agreed. “But I suppose most people choose them. That’s why you get them unless you specify something else.”

“Yeah,” Sarah agreed. “What sort did the Machine give you?” she asked Steve.

He felt colour rise to his cheeks. He hardly wanted to have a conversation with two girls about underwear, especially since he had felt compelled to put some on.

“I’m not sure. I didn’t really look. I think they were nylon,” he muttered.

“That’s right,” Jeanette put in. “You didn’t want to put them on did you?” He shook his head. “Well I don’t blame you. Nylon’s not very hygienic. Oh I know what I meant to show you Sarah!” she said, jumping up, and walking over to a cabinet beside her bed. “I got the Machine to make this up for me, what do you think?”

She handed the other girl a small vial, which Sarah took eagerly. “Oh it’s lovely!” she gasped. “What colour do you call it?”

Jeanette shrugged. “I don’t remember,” she said. “It was in amongst the dusky pinks. But it’s nice isn’t it? What do you think Steve?”

Steve looked blankly at the vial, which contained some sort of pink liquid. “It’s nice,” he commented.

“I might try it out tomorrow,” Jeanette mused, “although my nails aren’t in all that good condition.”

“That’s because you keep biting them,” Sarah told her, with a note of scolding in her voice. “It’s not good, is it Steve?”

“Err, no.” he replied.

Jeanette and Sarah stared at the nail varnish intently for some time, and Steve took another sip of his cocoa. He was finding the conversation difficult, centred as it was on subjects he knew nothing about. He was rather hoping the drink would cool quickly enough for him to gulp it down, make his excuses, and leave.

“How well do you know Stuart?” Sarah suddenly asked him. He was taken aback by the question, but before he could respond, Jeanette put on a hurt expression, and poked her friend in the ribs.

“Don’t ask him that!” she gasped.

“Oh don’t be silly,” Sarah went on. “How well do you know him, Steve?”

“Well,” he began. “Not that well really.”

“Oh well that’s a shame,” Sarah observed. Jeanette gave her a look that said stop it now. “We were just wondering what sort of things he’s interested in.”

Steve thought about this. “Well he’s always trying out electrical stuff. Wiring things up and things like that.”

“I know,” Jeanette replied, with a pained look on her face. “He’s more interested in wires than in people!”

Sarah giggled. “Jeanette fancies him!” she announced.

“I do not!” the other girl exclaimed. “It’s just that I’ve got to do a Math project with him over the next few weeks. I just wanted to know a bit more about him!”

“You do fancy him,” Sarah went on, her eyes wide with excitement. “Don’t worry. Steve won’t say anything to him about it, will you Steve? After all, you’re an honorary girl now!”

Steve winced at the alleged honour being bestowed on him, and shuffled in his seat. “No,” he said at last. “I won’t say anything.”

“See?” Sarah said to Jeanette, smiling. “I told you he wouldn’t!”

Jeanette looked across at Steve, and raised her eyebrows in a pained expression. “Well perhaps not. Anyway, why don’t you ask him about Malcolm? You fancy him!”

“Jeanette!” Sarah exclaimed in consternation. “I do not! Well, not much anyway.” Both the girls giggled. Steve was bemused. Malcolm was a pleasant enough boy, quite sporty, but he hadn’t ever thought of him as someone the girls were likely to fancy before.

“Anyway,” Sarah went on. “Nice though he is, there’s no point me fancying Malcolm. He’s in love with Eddie!” Steve’s mouth fell open in shock. He was aware of homosexuality as a concept through his education. The idea that it might actually exist, other than in his secret kiss with Richard, was entirely alien to him.

“I suppose that’s true,” Jeanette conceded. “Well you’ll just have to find somebody else.”

“I don’t think Malcolm’s in love with Eddie!” Steve exclaimed. Both of the boys were quiet, or quiet compared to him, but the idea that they might be gay seemed preposterous.

“Oh they don’t even know it themselves yet,” Jeanette said, dismissing his objections. “But we can tell, can’t we Sarah?”

“Yes! You can tell by the way they look at each other.”

“Yes,” Jeanette affirmed. “Don’t look so shocked Steve! It’s perfectly natural in its own way.”

“I know,” he blurted, still struggling with the idea. “But I don’t think it’s true.”

“You boys are rubbish at spotting things like that. Trust us, we know!” Jeanette said with finality.

The two girls then did a full survey of all the children on the ship, and who fancied whom, and to what extent. They were careful to evade any revelations as to who might fancy Steve, and indeed any speculation about whom he might fancy. He sipped his cocoa, cooler now, and was nearly finished when Sarah hit him with the question he had thought had been sidestepped.

“And what about you Steve, who do you fancy?”

“Yes you must tell us!” Jeanette added, leaning forward in a conspiratorial manner. “We told you, so you have to tell us!”

“That’s right!” Sarah agreed. They both sat on the bed, looking at him with eager eyes for some confession. He shrugged.

“Well I don’t really fancy anybody at the moment,” he mumbled.

“Rubbish!” Sarah exclaimed. “You must fancy someone!”

“Well I don’t know,” he continued, feeling yet again the colour rising in his cheeks. “Jacquie’s very pretty.”

“Oh pooh!” said Sarah in response. “Everybody says that.”

“Even Jacquie!” Jeanette put in.

“So you must have a secret crush on someone else. You can tell us.”

“Yes,” Jeanette agreed. “You’re an honorary girl remember. That’s means we won’t tell her.”

“No,” agreed Sarah. They continued to stare at him eagerly, and he knew that he would have to give some name or other eventually.

“Perhaps we can guess!” Jeanette suggested.

“Yes. Let me think. I know! Janet! You used to live next door to her, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” he agreed. “But I don’t really fancy her.”

“You used to play with her a lot when you were little,” Sarah remembered. So did Steve, suddenly, lazy afternoons when they were both about five or six. Janet had made him play with her dolls and teddy bears. Oh God, that was probably another reason the Machine had mistaken him for a girl.

“Well if it’s not Janet,” Sarah went on. “It must be Karen!”

“Oh yes, it must be!” Jeanette agreed, clapping her hands together. “You fancy Karen don’t you?”

“Err, well up to a point,” Steve mumbled, his cheeks now on fire.

“Aw but that’s so sweet!” Sarah exclaimed, “especially with you and her changing sexes together!”

“Yes,” agreed Jeanette. “It’s perfect.”

“Well, I don’t know that I fancy her as such,” Steve went on, struggling to keep up with this. “But she’s been quite nice to me since this morning.”

“That’s true love!” Sarah asserted, grinning broadly at Steve. “Don’t worry darling, we won’t tell her. Or anybody else!”

“No of course not,” Jeanette agreed. “But if you like, we could think of ways to get her to notice you.”

“I would have thought walking around the ship wearing her skirt makes her notice me well enough,” Steve said bleakly.

Jeanette giggled. “Well maybe, but we could probably think of other ways as well! We’ll give it some thought, and let you know.”

“Yes,” agreed Sarah.

Steve finished the rest of his cocoa, and stood up abruptly. “Well I’m feeling a bit tired,” he said. “I think I’ll get myself off to bed. I’ll be,” he hesitated. “Using the toilet in a minute, if that’s all right Sarah.”

“Of course,” she replied.

“And I suppose you’ll need a shower in the morning?” Jeanette asked him.

“Well, I’ll probably wait until I’m back in the boys’ sleeping quarters,” he replied. “Thanks for the cocoa.”

“It’s our pleasure!” Jeanette beamed, and they both watched him walk towards the door. “And putting those knickers on was a good idea by the way, it makes your skirt hang much better.”

He had his back to them, but they could see him suddenly tense up at the realisation that his knickers had been spotted. They giggled gently to themselves, as he touched the panel by the door to let himself out. Steve quickly got into his room, and shut his eyes in shame. How had they noticed that he’d put on the knickers? Jeanette had said that the skirt was a bit see-through earlier, that must be it. He moved across to the mirror. He could see the vague outline of the knickers through the flimsy material of the skirt. He cursed. If Sarah and Jeanette thought that Eddie and Malcolm were gay, what would they think of him now that they knew he had deliberately put on girl’s underwear?

He tore off the skirt and the top, and threw them into the recycle chute. He pulled the knickers down with venom, and lobbed them in after. The Interface chuntered, and them swallowed them. “Good riddance!” he muttered to himself, and sat at the keyboard to select some pyjamas. Naturally enough, he only had access to feminine ones. He grimaced as he looked at the selection of sleepwear available, skipping quickly