"My Mummy isn't going to come back, is she, Daddy?"

"No, Luke. I don't think you'll ever see your mother again."

"You said before she was pretty. Was she very pretty, Daddy?"

A pause. "Yes, son, she was very pretty."

*****

"Dad, the others at school keep saying I'm a freak, because I heal up much quicker than them. I'm not a freak, am I?"

"Of course not, you're perfectly normal."

"Well, why do my cuts and bruises get better much quicker than everyone else's? Other people have to keep plasters and bandages on much longer than I do."

"I don't know, Luke. Perhaps it's because you're naturally much healthier than most of them to start with. You eat well, and you don't get any of the childhood diseases like the others do. You're just lucky."

"If you say so, Dad. It just seems a bit weird, that's all."

"Don't worry about it. Worry instead about your homework. Have you done that Geography assignment yet?"

"Aw, Dad..."

*****

"Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Allendale, Matron. I am delighted that you have accepted Luke into St. Joseph's, but I thought that I should come and inform you, like any good parent, of one or two things you need to know about him. Things that couldn't be put on the application forms."

"Have a seat, Mr Renshaw. What's this all about?"

"Thank you, Mr Allendale. I assure you it's nothing that should worry you, quite the opposite, in fact. Luke suffers from an inherited genetic disease called Baxter-Hildegren Syndrome. Not much is known about it, except the symptoms, and what will happen to him eventually as the disease progresses. I think there are five or six known cases in the entire world, so it's very rare, in fact not even identified until a few years ago."

"But, Mr. Renshaw, there was a space on the form for ailments and disabilities. We have several pupils here with diabetes, for example, it shouldn't have been a problem for you to write it down."

"I didn't want to worry you, as he should be perfectly normal for the entire duration of his education here, and it's a very rare disease. Actually, he'll be more than normal in certain respects. Matron?"

"Yes, Mr Renshaw?"

"The boys here do get the usual run of things passing through, don't they? Coughs, colds, flu, etcetera?"

"Yes, of course. If they are thought to be infectious, we have a ward where we keep them until they improve, and to keep them away from everyone else, of course."

"Luke won't get any of those. He's blessed with an unusually efficient immune system. He's been tested, and it's practically impossible to give him any bacterial disease or virus. You'll also notice that any injuries heal up much faster than usual. That's one of the points you need to make a note of."

"How so, Mr Renshaw? I would have thought that something that gets a boy back to normal as soon as possible is to be preferred."

"Maybe. But consider, if he breaks a bone in his arm or leg, or, well, anywhere, actually. The healing process begins very rapidly, and if the bone isn't set as soon as possible, it may heal at an angle, leaving him with a deformity."

"Oh! I hadn't thought of that. You're right, Mr Renshaw, I'll make sure something gets put on his notes."

"He'll also never need any dental treatment, for the same reason. If a tooth falls out, or gets knocked out, a new one will grow to replace it. Never has cavities either. I wish my teeth were like that."

"Just what happens," Mr Allendale asked, "with this disease, then? Your boy sounds absurdly healthy to me."

"He will be, up to about the age of twenty-five. Somewhere about that age, his body undergoes some serious and life-threatening changes, and he'll end up a completely different person. From that time, he'll require constant care and attention."

"I'm sorry to hear that. How long will he live for, after that happens?"

"Tricky to say. He's not immune to accidents, like any of us. He might live two years, or he might live for fifty. There's so few known cases it's difficult to know for certain what might make a difference to lifespan."

"Oh. I can assure you, Mr Renshaw, that we'll try to make your son's time here as happy and fulfilling as possible. Does he know about himself?"

"The disease? No, not really. He knows the name, and that he heals quickly, but that's all. He doesn't know what's going to happen to him in his mid-twenties, and at this age I would prefer it if he didn't. I would like you to just treat him exactly like any of your other pupils and forget about his future. Other pupils may notice the quick healing, the kids at his previous school did. You will just have to temporise if someone asks questions. The only time you'll really need to be aware of his differences, shall we say, is if he breaks something."

"I'm glad you informed us, Mr Renshaw. It's a shame, though, to teach a boy everything he needs to know about the world, and know that he might not be able to put most of it to good use."

"Maybe, maybe not. Medical science is improving all the time, who can say what the future will hold?"

"So true. Well, thank you for coming, Mr Renshaw. And, a belated thank you for your generous donation to the school funds. I'll get someone to show you out."

*****

"Wait, did you say that some of the boys are going out with girls from St Catherine's?"

"Yes, Dad. What's wrong with that? It's not as if we're children any more. Mr Allendale says that boys over sixteen are allowed out at weekends, and that we're allowed to mix. We've all had the birds and the bees lecture in biology, so we know how far we are allowed to go."

"Yes, Luke, and under normal circumstances I would have no problem with that. However, as you very well know, the circumstances are not normal. You have a very rare genetic disease, and, although you won't pass it on to any girl you make out with, if you make any mistakes," and they both knew what he was talking about, "you might be condemning any child you end up with to a life of misery."

"Misery? How so, Dad? My life hasn't been miserable so far, in fact it's been jolly good. Dad? What haven't you told me?"

Daniel Renshaw sighed. Time for the next dribble of information.

"Sit down, Luke. There are things you ought to know."

"Dad? Now you're worrying me."

Daniel paused while he tried to find a way to tell his son his fate.

"Luke, I didn't want to upset you as you were growing up, but as you're now sixteen it's probably about time I told you a little bit more about what's wrong with you."

"Wrong with me, Dad? I don't feel as if there's something wrong with me."

"That's because you're still young. When your body gets to about the age of twenty-five, it will all change, though. The disease you have will cause you to undergo some serious bodily changes, and your whole life will change completely."

"What? You mean I've got," Luke counted up, "nine years left to live?"

"I didn't say you'd die then. And it can happen any time from about twenty-two years of age to twenty-eight or so, although twenty-five is usual. You just have to be aware that any plans you make that go beyond about your twenty-fifth birthday might be a waste of time."

"Well, what happens to me afterwards? Am I some kind of vegetable, then?"

"No, not at all. You could live a long and fulfilling life, or you could have just one or two years left. It just won't be the sort of life you might have been expecting."

"Oh." Luke was silent while he tried to assimilate the bombshell his father had given him. So much for becoming an airline pilot, or a famous sportsman, or a rich banker, then. "How do you know this, then? And if this disease is genetic, why didn't you get it? You're obviously older than twenty-five."

"I know about it because there's an Institute which specialises in such things. Your mother got into contact with it as soon as the condition was discovered. And it's known that your mother carried the Syndrome. The only part your father played in the process was to make you a boy not a girl."

"Oh. Biology again. I understand." Luke thought again. "Is that why Mother died, then? Because she was carrying this disease?"

"No, she was killed in an accident. There are side effects which a woman can get, but it hits males the hardest. She was killed before any effects happened to her."

"I'm sorry, Dad. I know you loved her very much, didn't you?"

Daniel Renshaw was silent for a long time. Then, he said, "Yes, Luke, she was my whole life."

*****

"Thank you for fetching me, Dad," Luke said as his father's car drove away from the school for the last time, "I might have managed it on the train, but I have all these books and my other stuff to carry."

"No problem at all, son," his father said. "I was quite happy to come to the presentation ceremony in any case. I was surprised, your grades were much better than I'd thought they'd be."

"Where are we going? Home?"

"Yes, to dump all your school stuff and to allow us both to change. Or did you want to go out for a celebration meal wearing your school uniform?"

"Ah, no, Dad, I don't think so. Although I've worn it for seven years, eight years, now, I think I'm quite happy to put it away in my wardrobe and forget it. Where are we going, then?"

"I thought Giordino's in town. This time, you can legally have wine with your meal, if you like."

"Gee, Dad, thanks. And now we've got that out of the way, will you finally tell me what's going on? What's really going on, that is?"

"I have no idea -"

"Don't give me that, I'm not a child any longer. Do you think I wouldn't notice that I was the only boy in my year not to get asked to see the careers master? The only boy not to get asked which University I was going to try for? Despite the fact my grades are so good I could choose from the top tier if I wanted to?"

"I thought we'd talk about it over the meal tonight. I don't want to ruin your leaving day, at least, not too much." Daniel Renshaw changed the subject, or at least seemed to. "Noticed any good girls while you were at that school? You must have cast your eye over those from St Catherine's, at the very least."

"Yeah, one or two."

"Any you were really fond of? That you might want to take things further with?"

"There was this one girl I quite liked. Melanie - Why are you asking me this? You know very well I'm going to turn into a pumpkin in seven years time, so I've been deliberately not getting too involved. I wouldn't want to do anything cruel to a girl I liked that much."

Daniel closed his eyes in memory, and then remembered that he was driving.

"You can do quite a lot in seven years," he said. "If you married someone now, you could have eight or nine children by the time you had to stop. That is, if they were single children one after the other."

"You can't be serious! That would be to treat my, hmm, wife I suppose, as a production line. And it would be irresponsible to leave her with all those kids and no means of support. I wouldn't do that to anyone."

"Perhaps, But I'm just pointing out that you don't have to be a monk for the next few years. You're a young man, you're entitled to enjoy yourself a bit."

"What about all this damage I might do the next generation, then? You were quite hot about it last time you came, now you seem to want me to do the opposite."

Daniel Renshaw sighed. "Yes, that's still true. I'm sorry, Luke, I'm not explaining this right. Will you let me concentrate on driving, and leave this to tonight? I'll answer a lot of your questions tonight, let's just make sure we get home safely first."

"Mmm! I always liked the Tiramisu they did here. I don't suppose you'd let me have any more, though, would you?"

"I don't think so, Luke! You must have put ten thousand calories away tonight."

"Well, you know me, growing boy. Although I suppose I've stopped doing all the sports I used to at school now, so I'll have to taper down a bit."

The waiter put large coffees in front of them and left.

"Now, you know I've been bursting at the seams all evening. Dad, what's going on?"

"First of all, if you still want to go to University, I won't stand in your way. Your good grades were a little unexpected. If you'd had average grades, like everyone expected, then there wouldn't have been a lot of point you going to Uni. The only thing you have to remember is that it would be four years less left to you, although it would be a good four years. University life was one of the best periods of my life, and I don't see that your experiences would be that much worse."

"Uh, okay, but that still doesn't answer the basic question."

"It's part of the answer, which is that you have to choose carefully what you do with the rest of the time remaining to you. Now, we're sufficiently well off, as you know, enough that you don't have to find a job to cover your time left. Nevertheless, I think the experiences would be good for you, and I wouldn't stand in your way if you did decide to find some kind of employment, at whatever level suits you."

"Yes, I see. Then, would you be too upset if I said I wanted to go backpacking round the world for a couple of years? My natural immunity would ensure I didn't get too much trouble with foreign bugs, and I think I'm fit enough to look after myself."

Daniel pursed his lips. "I think I'll have to consider that one in more detail. Now. A factor you might want to bear in mind, is that neither of us has so far mentioned what happens to you after you 'turn into a pumpkin', as you so aptly put it."

"Yes, that's certainly one of the things I wanted to ask you about. I tried to do some research the last few weeks at school, but there wasn't anything to find. Is it so terrible that it's best I don't know what happens? Or can you tell me, so I can prepare myself for it?"

"I can tell you, but the best way to handle this, and it's something I've already set up, is to take you to the experts. Do you remember me talking about an institute some time ago?"

"Yes, but you never said which institute. Was that deliberate? There seems to be so much secrecy about this whole thing. Some of the guys at school wondered if I might be a vampire, but I didn't have a problem with garlic, crosses or silver. Then they thought I was a werewolf, but nothing happened at full moon. I've got obvious brains, so I can't be a zombie. Some of them still think I'm an alien."

A waiter brought the bill on a little dish and placed it by Daniel. He waited until the man walked out of earshot, and then leaned towards Luke.

"This all has to be kept as secret as possible, which is why I've been careful to ensure you couldn't give yourself away, even accidentally, at school. So far as they were concerned, you're just a boy with a strange disease whose life is going to take a nosedive in a few years. Like, say, Cystic Fibrosis. The truth is much, much stranger, and if people find out you could be hunted down and either killed, or kept in a cage like a lab animal."

"Jesus, Dad!" Several diners raised their heads and looked at the Renshaw's table. Luke lowered his voice. "Is it really that bad? You're not just making this up to keep me quiet?"

"Yes, it is that bad, and no, I'm not just making it up. Look, the day after tomorrow, we're going to drive over to the Institute and they'll explain the whole thing to you. If you don't object, I imagine they'll also want to run through some tests on you. And, I might add, they'll probably want to see you back on a regular basis so they can keep a check on your condition."

Luke shrugged. "If this whole thing is real, and it's really going to happen to me, then I don't see that I can object to any of that."

"Okay, then. I suggest you just spend tomorrow chilling out and sorting your school things out and putting them away somewhere. We'll need an early start on Friday."

"I'm a teenager, chilling is what I do. What about, what you were talking about in the car?"

"What was that, then?"

"About girls, and getting married. Or did I misunderstand that?"

"No, I think what I meant to say was, that getting married and starting a family would be a positive use of your remaining time, even if you think you'd not be treating your girl very well. It's an option, just the same as going to University is. You might even manage both."

"What about this genetic business, then? Surely I'm not good material to be a father?"

Daniel looked at his son as they rose from the table. "That will be explained on Friday, and you can judge then for yourself what legacy you might be handing down to your children. Oh, and no, you're not an alien."

*****

"Welcome to the Moebius Institute. My name is Frances Canning, and I am the current head of the Institute. Please be seated. I guess you must be Luke, that Daniel has told us so much about."

"Yes, Mrs. Canning." Luke licked his lips and looked around. On their way in, he had seen a typical research campus in a rural setting surrounded by razor wire. Inside, it was all bright lights and bustling women in white coats.

"Call me Frances, please. I won't bite, I assure you." The speaker was a woman who might have been in her thirties, short light brown hair, dark business jacket and skirt over a pastel top. She looked like somebody's mother.

"Okay, then." Luke licked his lips again, and then said, "Dad says you'll explain what's wrong with me."

"I don't know that I'll do that personally. I've asked one of our senior scientists to come and talk to you, she's been detained a few minutes. Can I get both of you a drink while you're waiting? I have a few questions I'd like to ask Daniel, if that's all right with you, Luke."

Drinks were ordered, and while they waited Frances asked Daniel about all kinds of things, his health, his job, where he lived, even about the investments Daniel had made which kept their household solvent and affluent. Luke listened with one ear and wondered why the Institute was so interested in his father's life.

While they were drinking, a new woman appeared. She was blonde, about the same age as Frances and wearing a white lab coat. The two men stood up.

"This is Doctor Alice O'Toole. Luke, she'll be looking after your interests from now on." Daniel and Luke shook hands with the newcomer.

"What happened to Doctor Margaret, Frances?" Daniel asked.

"Oh, she had a son about eighteen months ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I mean, I'm sorry you've lost such a good member of staff."

"If you'll come next door, we have a projector set up. You might as well bring your drinks, and the tray."

"Now, Luke," began Alice. "The rest of us here know all of what I am about to tell you, so this lecture is entirely for your benefit, although there may be new developments which Daniel has yet to be told about. Stop me if you need something explained, please do."

Alice went to the projector, started it, and displayed the first slide.

"You presumably have done some genetics at school?"

"Yes, er, Doctor Alice. That on the chart looks familiar to me, it's the standard explanation of Mendelian genetics. We did that in biology." He screwed up his face. "I hope this isn't going to get too deep, because I've only just left school, I haven't done this to University level."

"No, that's all right, you'll understand what we have to tell you. How about this next one." Alice displayed the next slide, with diagrams of chromosomes on it.

"Ah, yes. That's the human genome, I think they call it now. Twenty-three pairs of chromosomes, is that right?"

"Yes, that's right. Now, most of those are very similar looking except the last one. Know why that is?"

"Yes, it's because one of each pair of chromosomes comes from each parent. The last one is different because that's the one that determines sex."

"We tend to say gender here, rather than sex. But you're right in your explanation. Do you know how the choice of gender works?"

"Yes, the woman has XX and the man has XY. Each egg has one of the two X's in it, together with one half of each of the other chromosomes. The man's sperm has XY, and sperms get X or Y. If the fertilised egg gets an X, it's a girl. If it gets a Y, it becomes a boy."

"Right. And do you know how to tell a Y on this chart?"

"It's the little stubby one. My biology teacher said that it's just a switch, which turns on the male genes in the body."

"Very well. Now, the real point of the discussion we are having today, is to tell you that you do not have a Y chromosome."

"Come again? Do you mean I'm a girl?"

Alice sighed. "It's a lot more complicated than that, unfortunately. What you have instead is a chromosome that is not the X chromosome, that is nearly as big as the X chromosome, but instead of just one switch, it's completely packed with switches."

Luke sat, trying to digest what he had been told, but all his life he had been told he had a genetic abnormality, so this news was mostly just confirmation. He considered what he had been told.

"So, I guess that one of the switches on this big thing is the male switch, which is why I look like I do, and why I have a penis and testicles. And, I guess, what you're saying is that at about the age of twenty-five, some of these other switches kick in, and do something horrible to me."

"I wouldn't use the word horrible, exactly," Alice said, "but otherwise, you've figured it out mostly right. We call this 'big thing', as you termed it, the Z chromosome, although that's only a term we use amongst ourselves, you understand."

She leaned towards him for emphasis. "The thing is, this mutation, for that is what it is, is carried by -" here she halted while she considered her words carefully, "both males and females. Except that they're not males or females, but the same thing."

"You mean, I'm a," here Luke had to dredge the word out of the depths of his memory, "a hermaphrodite?" He ended with a query in his tone.

"No, not one of those. They have both sets of genitals at the same time. With this mutation, you can only be one or the other at any one time."

"Ah, so what you mean is, that I'm -" Luke stopped.

"Yes. At about the age of twenty-five, you're going to change into a woman. A complete, biological, fully-functional woman."

Luke's father and the two women looked at him while he digested this. Finally, Luke shrugged his shoulders.

"That doesn't sound so bad. I was afraid I'd be some monstrous shape stuck in a bed in a home somewhere. It'll probably take me a good while to adapt, I suppose, but being turned into a woman isn't the end of the world, is it?" He turned to Daniel. "Is that why you wanted me to get married and have kids? So that I can have the male experiences before they're lost forever?"

His father grimaced. "Yes and no. The situation is a lot more complicated than that. Tell him, Alice."

She resumed. "You will become fully female, with all that that implies. Your face will change, you will grow breasts, your penis and testicles will disappear and you will acquire a vagina and the womb to go with it. Your hips will widen and your skin will soften. Your brain processes will also change. This all takes about six to eight months to happen. Once you have transitioned, you will be a fully female member of society, and you won't feel like something you're not, with one exception. That's the fact that you won't have had twenty-five years of growing up from childhood to become accustomed to your new status in society. You'll have to learn that quickly, and secretly, over the short period after you transition."

"That doesn't sound too bad. What's the big problem, then? I was a man, then I become a woman. I think I can live with that."

"A couple of things. Firstly, being a woman, you are likely to meet a man, get married and want to have children. In Z-females, as we refer to them, the urge to have children is particularly strong. Any daughters you may have will be perfectly normal human girls, with no genetic abnormalities. Half the sons you bear will have your Z chromosome, and will end up like you."

"I see. That's why you showed me those genetics charts. Girls good, boys bad. Well, maybe not bad, just not so good."

"The other major problem in all this is that you are likely to have only one son, unless you have twin boys. You see, a male foetus in it's mother's womb is surrounded by her female hormones, so has to pump out it's own male hormones to ensure it develops properly. In you, the male hormones from your son will trigger off another change in you, and you will turn back into a male again."

"Oh! I understand. What you are saying is that I will flip from being male to female and back again."

"That's exactly what I am saying. You will become male again. The problem is, you will stay that way for twenty-five years, at which point you will change back to a woman once more."

"Oh, God, no! Really? I can see how that might get difficult."

"Child, you have no idea. Imagine, first, you are a happily married woman, with perhaps two daughters already. You then have a son, who is going to be your husband's pride and joy. How is your family going to deal with the fact that you immediately start changing from his loving wife into a man before his very eyes? If you were breastfeeding, you keep the breasts until you wean your son, which will make you look very strange indeed. Then, you also know that your son could be the same as you, and that he might never be the heir that your husband needs. What do you do?"

"Dunno. I hadn't got as far as thinking about the effect on people other than myself."

"You run. You take your son and you run. You have no choice other than to abandon your family forever, no matter how much you loved them and wanted to stay with them. There is no other way, unless you want to be discovered. And being discovered is, for you, a Very Bad Thing."

"I don't see that. It's just a mutation, isn't it? There are plenty of other mutations."

"Consider your own childhood. You already know that you heal faster, that you don't pick up germs or viruses, you don't need dental work. It hasn't happened to you, but I can tell you that your healing abilities include being able to regrow amputated limbs. Eyes, and some internal organs, too. Think what any government would pay to have someone like you locked away in a research establishment somewhere. If they can find out what makes you tick, or, failing that, to force you and people like you with any means at their disposal to do their wishes, they would be able to create an unbeatable army."

Spelled out like that, Luke suddenly understood what his father had been driving at in their restaurant conversation. He was, through no fault of his own, one of a very small group of people who would be hunted down by anyone who discovered their secret.

"There's another thing I haven't told you yet," Alice continued, "about the transition from male to female. When it happens, your body clock gets reset to the age it was when you had your first transition. In other words, you become a twenty-five year old woman again. This doesn't happen when you go from female to male, you just carry on from the age you were when you had your son. You will physically age very slowly compared to normal humans, in either form, which means that if you last out long enough someone might notice and you'd have to move on again. Put the slow ageing together with the age reset when you become a Z-female and, barring accidents, you are potentially immortal."

"Oh, wow. Just wow." Luke was flabbergasted. "I think I need another drink, please. This is amazing. You've just told me I'm one of a group of secret superhumans."

Alice wrinkled her nose. "No, not superhuman, not really. A better word might be 'robust'. You can be killed, and there are certain serious injuries you won't recover from." Her face became grimmer. "I suspect a fair few Z-females got burnt as witches in the past. Some of the men, too. Wars and disease outbreaks are handy, because you can use the confusion to switch identities and move somewhere else. There are some celebrated cases through history that we know are probably Z-humans. There was a person called Chevalier Eon de Beaumont who probably was. There's anecdotal evidence that one of the wives of Henry the Eighth was, as well, although having your head chopped off would certainly qualify as a fatal injury. It's possible Henry's son Edward the Fourth was a Z-male, although he didn't live long enough to transition. There have also been questions over Elizabeth the First, although she's more debatable. However, it seems she was quite determined not to have children, and if she was a Z-woman I can quite understand why. Some Z-women almost certainly perished during the French Revolution, and in other purges throughout the ages when anyone odd was considered suspect. Witches of Salem? Possible."

"Ouch. You'd certainly want to avoid drawing attention to yourself, wouldn't you?" Luke thought. "So, let me get this straight. If you're a male, you can't be one longer than twenty-five years, is that right?" The two women nodded. "If you're female, however, you stay as one up and until you have a son. Is it possible, therefore, for the woman to put off changing by not having children? That way, you could at least choose your moment to change in."

Frances said, "Yes, it certainly is. I can tell you, however, that the urge to reproduce is very strong and resisting it is extremely uncomfortable." She handed him a refill of the coffee, and he looked up at her to thank her. He paused, looking at her more carefully.

"You're a Z-woman, aren't you?"

She nodded, and looked at him expectantly. He suddenly had a thought, and turned to Alice.

"You're one, too, aren't you?"

"I am, although not as old as Frances is. I've been a woman fifty-five years."

"I've been one for eighty," supplied the apparently thirty-five year old woman.

Luke suddenly had an appalled thought, and turned to Daniel, who nodded.

"Me too, although I could have been a normal. Sorry, Luke."

"Are you as old as them, Dad? You look about forty, but if you age slowly -"

"I'm a hundred and nine," replied his father. "I've been a man three times and a woman twice, once for thirty years."

"How many of us are there?" Luke asked weakly, realising that 'us' was now appropriate to the conversation.

"We have no idea," replied Frances. "Naturally, with such an explosive secret, no-one is going to leak out any information if they can possibly avoid it. Nearly all of those who work in this part of the compound are, and the few that aren't Z-people know about us, and are all sons and daughters of Z-people."

"Sons? I thought that wasn't possible?"

To answer that Alice displayed a third slide which was divided into four parts. This showed the possible results of couplings, the first being that of normal with normal, then normal female with Z-male, normal male with Z-female, and finally Z-male with Z-female.

"Oh, yes, of course. It's possible to have normal sons half the time with a normal father and a Z mother."

"Yes, all other male children being Z-males," Alice explained. "The problem with having possible normal sons, is that the mother doesn't know whether to take her son with her when she leaves, before she starts to change. If her son is normal, it might be dangerous for her to take him."

"Yes, I can see that," said Luke. "Ah!" he exclaimed, pointing to the chart. "Something I'd noticed before now makes sense. I'd wondered why this outfit was called the Moebius Institute." He pointed to the logo on the corner of the chart, which showed a Moebius strip, a loop with a single twist in it.

"Clever lad," said his father. "I hadn't noticed the significance before."

"Of course!" Luke said, "The two sides represent the two genders, but it's only one side really, so they are the same thing. The loop goes on for ever, which represents the long potential life we have, but you have to experience both sides of the loop for it to work."

Frances said, "You're pretty smart, you know that? I think we might be able to offer you something useful to do here at the Institute, if you're interested. To continue with your question, we have to do some extreme digging to find people like ourselves, because we have to hide so well. We use, and run, private detectives. We have people in government agencies looking out for certain changes of status, and certain events, like mothers and sons disappearing or dying, or fathers and sons. Medical records are useful sometimes - as are battlefield records. Our historical team sifts through reports of miracles, and suchlike stuff. We have contacts all over the world. We do know that some groups of Romany travellers consist of Z-people, whom they call the 'Daughters of Time', which I consider a very good name for us. Because they move around all the time, and they're not properly recorded anywhere, it's easy to disguise just who and what they are."

Luke sipped at his coffee and tried to make sense of all that he'd been told. From having what he'd thought was a fatal illness, or to all intents and purposes an illness that was going to end his useful life, he had now been propelled into a secret society composed of strange super (he couldn't avoid that word) humans who had the potential to live for ever, and who could be either male or female. It was a lot for an eighteen year old teenager to think about.

"But, but, wait a minute, Dad!" Luke said. "You told me when I was younger that Mother had died in an accident. Was that true, or did you make it up to hide the fact you were a Z-person?"

Daniel sighed. Time to give Luke the final piece of the puzzle. How would he react?

"No, Luke, your Mother didn't die. I had to tell you that so that you wouldn't get asked awkward questions in school."

"Well what happened to her, then? Did she run away when she had me?"

"Yes, she did run away when she had you." Daniel Renshaw suddenly began to feel all of his years. Perhaps, as the world developed and progressed, a time would come when the running away would be unnecessary. But he knew that time wouldn't be for many decades yet. "Haven't you yet realised what we've been trying to tell you? Luke, I am your mother."

"I think that's about all, Luke. You're looking pretty fit for a twenty-year-old, if I may say so."

"Thank you, Doctor Alice. I've been keeping up my exercises, and I haven't been doing anything silly. Unless you include dropping a heavy box on my foot."

"Ah, you barely noticed that. And you did call us when it happened, so that we could follow your tissue recovery. Well, shall we see you in another six months, then?"

"I wonder, could I put it off for a few more months? I had a call from a couple of school mates, they want me to join them on a backpacking holiday round Europe."

"I don't think that would be a problem, Luke. How long were they planning to go for?"

"Oh, around a year, but you know how elastic these things can get. Is that going to cause any problems, do you think? I'll tell them no if you don't think it's safe, or it's too long."

"You can go as far as I'm concerned. What does your father think?"

"He's okay with it if you are. I can call him every so often from wherever, and he can slip me a code word if you need me back, and I can slip him one if things get tricky. I think we've got all bases covered."

"You go, then, and enjoy yourself. Remember the precautions we told you. And, remember, in parts of Europe they may do things somewhat differently, so be alert if you have to go near anywhere medical. See if you can call us about three or four weeks before you next come here, so that we can prepare properly for your next check-up."

"I'll do that, Doctor Alice. Bye."

*****

"What do you mean, you have to go home? What's happened?"

"Sorry, Luke, it's my dad. They're not sure that it was a heart attack, but they've admitted him to hospital for observation. I need to be there to look after Mum."

"Oh. You'd better go, then. I'm sorry your big trip got cut short. Perhaps we should have another go when your dad's a bit better."

"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. You've still got Nick and Petey, and Kurt's still travelling with us. Plenty enough to sample all the bars. You carry on and have yourself some fun."

"Don't worry, I will! Not sure if I can manage to drink your share as well, though. I'll give you a call in a week or so, see how your old man is doing."

*****

"Dad? Just thought I'd let you know I'm still alive."

"Where? No, I'm in Berlin. No, I'm in a hostel. Germany, remember? All clean and efficient. I'm with Nick and Kurt."

"I thought I'd told you about Kurt. We met him in Copenhagen. He's a German from the old east, he offered to come this far with us and be our guide for a while."

"Yeah. You know Andy? He had to cut short his trip because his dad had a suspected heart attack. He did call me once he'd got home, his dad's fine."

"Who? Petey? Yeah, that was unfortunate. We'd just got over the border on the train, and Petey discovered his wallet was gone. We had to sub his ride home between us all."

"Yeah, they pulled a couple of thousand out of his account before he could get the card stopped. Killed his Europe trip stone dead. I'm glad we used a different arrangement."

"Dunno yet. Kurt says I can come back with him to his parent's home in Dresden if I want. After that, haven't decided. Warsaw, maybe. Then Prague, Budapest, dunno, really. I think what I ultimately want to do is get down to Greece. If I can make Athens, I'll see how I feel then and maybe call it a day. How are things back home?"

"Oh, shit. That's bad news. I thought that investment was safe as houses."

"I know. How much did we lose?"

"How much? Can we cover that? Do you want me to come back right away?"

"Trust fund, yeah. If you insist. Tell you the truth, I think I'm learning a great deal on this trip. They call it 'The University of Life' and I understand why, now."

"No, nothing. A couple of scratches, that's all. Don't even think anyone noticed, but I was careful. Look, gotta go, I'll maybe call you in a couple of weeks, okay?"

"Yeah, same to you. Bye, Dad."

*****

"There are three of them." Jeff, the big Australian, lowered the binoculars.

"Three of them, three of us, sounds pretty good odds to me," said Todd, the equally large Texan.

"Not so easy seeing as it was the sunlight glinting off an AK that Luke spotted. All of them are carrying," responded Jeff. "We aren't."

"Is there a way round?" Luke asked. "They don't know we've seen them yet."

They surveyed the valley to either side of the road. The vegetation in this part of the Balkans was dense scrub, so it would have been possible, theoretically, to go off into the bushes and find a way round the ambush and regain the road further along.

"If we try scrambling through those rocks over there, we'd be exposed. The other side takes us down by the river, I don't know if that's any better, I don't think so," said Todd.

"Not to mention, we can see three, but there might be more of them hiding up nearby. We might do better with a frontal attack," added Jeff.

"Against AK-47's? What are you smoking?"

Jeff grinned and opened his pack. He rummaged around inside and pulled out an enormous knife, not unlike a Bowie knife.

"Jesus! How long have you had that in your pack?"

"He bought it in the Czech Republic as a souvenir," explained Luke. "Couple of times we had to camp out, he cut up the evening meal with it."

"What did you eat? Rhinoceros?"

"Deer. Was a good-sized buck, too. Fed us for four days."

"Can you use that thing?" asked Todd. "You some kind of 'Crocodile Dundee' or something?"

"No, just a city slicker with some outback experience. I can use this, yes. Haven't used a knife on a human before, though."

"So, what's the plan, then, guys? Walk down the road, all innocent, then?" asked Luke.

Jeff closed his pack and reslung it on his back, carefully sliding the knife between the webbing. "More or less," said Jeff. "Todd, Luke, this is what I want you to do."

*****

The three travellers had allowed themselves to be stopped by their captors and herded off the road into the brush. Jeff's grandparents had been from Yugoslavia, and he spoke a little Serbo-Croat, which was the only reason that Luke had travelled this way. Ten metres or so from the road, the three stopped and turned.

Their captors were three men of about the same age as themselves. They were all dressed in what at one time had obviously been uniforms of some army or other, now so worn and torn that it was impossible to tell which. They all had roughly shaved typical Slav faces. One had a bandolier across each shoulder, although half the clips were empty, the other two had army satchels slung diagonally across their chests. The clinking sounds from the bags indicated ammunition clips, and possibly grenades. They each had a Kalashnikov, although two had lowered theirs towards the ground before the group stopped.

The man in the centre spoke, and Jeff answered, haltingly. The man gestured with his gun, and Jeff shrugged.

"Guess they want our packs, mates. Better let them have them."

Todd unshouldered his pack, and as he did so, Jeff reached up to his left shoulder strap with his right hand, as if to shift it from his shoulder. Before anyone could blink, his knife had been pulled, thrown, and buried itself in the man's chest. There was a second of surprised look in the man's eyes, and then he sank to the ground, dead before he reached it.

The action distracted the man nearest Todd, and he threw his pack at him, catching him full in the chest. He fell over backwards, his gun spontaneously going off with a brief brrrap! that fortunately injured nobody. Todd jumped on him, and laid him out with a meaty fist to the jaw.

Luke had been slightly slower, and not able to get his pack off in time. So, when Jeff's knife was thrown, he leapt at the man nearest him, hoping that the weight of himself plus pack would be enough to knock the man down. He was halfway to his target when the man shot him.

He felt as if he had been punched in the chest. His pack bounced off his back, and then his determination carried him forward onto his opponent. He pulled the weapon from the surprised man's hand and used the butt to knock him out. Then he fell to his knees as the reaction caught up with him.

"You okay, Luke?" asked Jeff.

"No. I've been shot." Luke coughed, and spat up some blood. "Right chest. Shit." Then he fell over.

"Christ, no!" said Todd. "What do we do now?"

"We make sure of these fellows first," replied Jeff. "Then we can look at Luke in peace."

"Kill them?" said Todd, still shaken from the death of the first bandit.

"Nah, we'll tie 'em up and sling 'em in the bush. Come on."

By the time they had dragged the trussed bandits away into the bushes Luke had managed to get up into a sitting position, supported by the pack still strapped to his back. His whole face had turned grey. He had placed his right hand over the entry wound to reduce the bleeding, but he knew it wasn't as simple as that. Jeff squatted down in front of him, concern on his face.

"You're lucky that bastard didn't cut you in half," he remarked. "One bullet?"

"Think so," replied Luke, weakly. "Back's wet, so it went through. Have a look?"

Jeff gently pulled Luke's pack away and looked at the mess on his back. He grunted.

"Looks like the bullet went into the pack. That might have saved you, if the pack hadn't been there, you'd have had an enormous exit wound. How the hell are we going to do anything about this?"

"Get my groundsheet out of the pack and cut a couple of squares out of it, about two inches or so," Luke instructed. "Put one over each wound and bind them on. Tear up my clothes for bandages if you have to."

"Two inches?"

"Five centimetres, if you prefer."

"What good's that going to do? You're bleeding internally, for certain. Probably your lung, if nothing else. How are we supposed to save you way out here?"

"Takes a lot to kill off a Renshaw." Luke coughed and spat again. "Get me to the road, we might get lucky with a lift."

Todd looked at Jeff, and Jeff looked at Todd.

"I've seen my share of gunshot wounds," Todd said, "specially coming from my neck of the woods. You need an Emergency Room, now, not a lift in an ancient truck to the next village."

"Look," said Luke weakly, "if we don't get back to the road, we won't get anything, will we?"

Under protest, the two men cleaned up Luke's chest and wrapped him up as he suggested. They helped him to stand, and, supported by Jeff, he staggered back to the edge of the road. Todd carried Luke's pack, and once they had settled Luke with his back to a tree he unpacked it to survey the damage.

"Here's the slug," he said eventually. "It's taken out your socks, a water bottle, a map, and most of your groundsheet. A lot of the wet you felt was water from the bottle. Some of your papers are soaked, hope there was nothing important. Want me to keep the slug as a souvenir?"

"If you wish." Luke felt as though there was a rock embedded in the bottom of his right lung. I'll survive, he thought. If I can theoretically regrow an arm or a leg, I can survive this. All I have to do is not die first.

A truck came along the road about fifteen minutes later. Despite Todd and Jeff waving their arms and shouting, it didn't stop, but just kept on along the road, throwing up clouds of dust.

"Well, shit!" Todd exploded. "Ain't they just friendly round these parts!"

"Could have thought we were the bait for an ambush," said Jeff. "Can't say I blame them, really. We don't exactly look like respectable folks no more, do we?"

It was true, the three of them were covered with dust in the heat of the afternoon. They set to work making themselves more presentable, but the next truck paid them no more attention than the first.

"Just why are we out here, anyway?" Todd grumbled as the dust settled again.

"Because that misbegotten pile of scrap iron somebody laughingly called a truck broke down, that's what."

"They left us in a village. Why didn't we stay there, then? Oh, I remember, because it's only five K's to Piljoca. It's a nice day, why not walk? Now we know why we shouldn't have walked."

"Guys," Luke protested weakly. "Don't argue. We might have been held up if we'd got another lift instead of being on foot. What's done is done, anyway. We have to try and get a lift, somehow. We're all in this together."

"Yeah. It's just a pity we're almost exactly halfway between the two villages."

Just as they were beginning to despair, and Luke's bandage had started to ooze blood, a dust cloud appeared over the hill promising more than one vehicle. Shortly afterwards, a strange convoy began to pass them, consisting of a mixture of horse-drawn carts and very old flatbed trucks. These were piled high with packages baled in scraps of tarpaulin, and there were men, women and children of all ages perched anywhere they could find a place to sit. These passengers examined the three travellers attentively, but said not a word, even when Jeff and Todd shouted at them from close range.

At the tail end of the convoy was a small vehicle which looked like it had once been the Soviet version of a Jeep, with three men in it. The moment the driver spotted the travellers, he swung off the road just beyond them, and the occupants dismounted. They each carried Kalashnikovs.

"Shit. Frying pan to fire," muttered Jeff.

The driver of the Jeep called something to some women who were seated on the back of the last truck, and one waved an acknowledgement as the convoy disappeared into the distance. He then turned, and asked the travellers a question. Jeff replied, and a halting conversation was started. Jeff explained to Luke and Todd.

"You know I don't speak Serbo-Croat that well, don't you? Well, neither does this guy. I don't think he wants much to do with us, but I don't know why. I can't even get him to agree to tell someone in the next village that we're here, and that Luke's injured."

"Are they bandits?" asked Todd.

"Don't think so. They might be Gypsies, or Romany, or something like that. You know, every man's hand is against them, so they don't want contact with outsiders. Shit."

The driver shrugged his shoulders and started climbing back into the Jeep along with his men. Luke had an idea, but it was very much a last throw of the dice, and it broke just about every rule he had been made to understand just couldn't be broken.

"Tell him," he wheezed, painfully, "tell him I'm looking for the daughters."

"What?" asked Jeff, thrown by the unexpected request. "Tell him what?"

"Quickly! Before he goes! Tell him I'm looking for the daughters."

Jeff called out to the man as he was closing his door, and the door stopped halfway. The man got out and called back. Jeff answered him, gesturing to Luke.

"He wants to know what you mean. He asks if you are of the People, whatever that means. Luke, what the hell are you talking about? What's going on?"

Luke feebly waved an arm to dismiss the questions, and considered exactly how he was going to play this encounter. He had to be very careful. The man still carried his machine gun, and until he knew he was on safe ground, he had to answer the questions with great care.

"Tell him," he finally said, "Tell him that my mother was of the People."

Jeff looked at him as though he was mad, but relayed the information. The effect was immediate. The man called to his companions, and the three of them came closer to the travellers, still with their guns at the ready. The driver, who appeared to be the leader of the group, came up in front of Luke and squatted down. He spoke.

"He wants to see the wound," Jeff said to Luke. "I'm not sure I want to take that bandage off, it'll start you bleeding again."

"It's okay," said Luke. "It probably could do with a clean, by now." He coughed, and spat blood on the ground. The man's eyes widened.

With Todd helping, Jeff lifted Luke away from the tree, and they unwound the bandage. The man examined the entry and exit wounds carefully, and then looked at Luke with respect. He stood up, and called to his men. They immediately faced about, and began guarding the group from outside dangers. Todd looked at Jeff, and Jeff looked at Todd. The man spoke again.

"He wants Todd to go with one of his men, to show him where we dumped those bandits. I would go, but he wants me here to translate for Luke, if need be."

At the leader's urging, Jeff began cleaning Luke's wounds again with some of their spare water, but was told to leave the wound open for the moment. After a while, Todd and the other man reappeared from the brush. Todd's face was pale, he had the two satchels over his shoulder and was carrying one of the bandits' machine guns in each hand. The other man had the third gun in one hand, the bandoliers over his shoulder, and his own gun in his other hand. He muttered something to the leader, who nodded.

"He slit their throats," Todd said in a shaky voice. "While they were still tied up. Then he ransacked their bodies." His face turned green. "I thought Texans were bloodthirsty, but he seemed so matter-of-fact about it."

Jeff said, "It's good practice. Leave no enemy behind you. We should have taken the weapons, anyway, leaving them was stupid. The societies we live in have got too soft."

Todd lurched into the brush and was noisily sick. The man with the bandoliers had put down his finds beside those that Todd had been carrying and now squatted down beside the pile. He opened the satchels and emptied the contents onto the ground. The leader called his other man over and gave him some instructions, and the man went off into the bush, while the leader took over as sentry.

The squatting man stripped the remaining rounds from the bandoliers and slung the empty belts into the trees, then examined all the magazines either from the satchel or in the weapons. After ensuring all the magazines were full, he divided the remaining rounds into equal piles on the ground, putting one pile into each satchel with some of the magazines. A further pile went into his pockets, a fourth was given to his leader.

The other man came back from his errand holding a bunch of reeds he'd obviously cut from the riverbank. Taking one of the reeds, he approached Luke. He bent down, and, putting it to his mouth began sucking the blood from Luke's chest wound and expelling it onto the ground. The other man took a reed and joined his mate at Luke's side. As they sucked, Luke gradually began to feel the weight on his lung lessen. Finally, the leader decided that they had done enough, and he asked Jeff a question, which was relayed to Luke.

"Do you think you're well enough to travel, he asks. He'll take us to a point where the People can be contacted."

Luke considered for a while. He didn't want to get his friends involved any more than was necessary, what they knew already could be fatal.

"Guys," he said, "I'm going to ask you a big favour. I need to do this on my own." There was an immediate protest. "No, listen. What's going on is very dangerous, and I've let you find out too much already. Promise me you'll never, ever, mention what happened today to anyone else, ever."

"What are you talking about, Luke? We've said nothing, heard nothing. We can't leave you go off on your own, not in that condition." Jeff said.

"It could mean your lives," Luke said. "all you need to know is that these men here will take me to a village nearby where I can get help for my wounds. I want you to carry on to Piljoca which is where we were going anyway, and wait for me there for a week. If I haven't appeared then, carry on travelling. I'll be okay. Just don't tell anyone what happened here, or where I've gone. I'll get in touch with you when I can, using the Internet, or my phone if I can. Now, will you both promise to keep your mouths shut?"

After some guarded explanation, Todd and Jeff both promised, and the leader told of their decision. They were rewarded with the presentation of a Kalashnikov each, with a satchel full of ammunition. The third gun was reserved for Luke along with four magazines.

"Now firearms I can deal with," said Todd with satisfaction, hefting his gun. "I've never used one of these, but a cousin brought one back from Desert Storm, so I'm sort-of familiar with them." He examined the weapon with an expert eye in a way that did not go unnoticed by the three men.

"You'll have to give me a quick run-through," said Jeff. "I've used a hunting rifle, out on the uncle's farm, but mostly I've used shotguns."

"No problem," said Todd. "This lever is the safety, up is safe, then it's single-shot, and down here is pray-and-spray. They're not designed to be accurate any distance. Just let them get close enough, and remember the other guy probably can't shoot straight either."

The leader got into the Jeep with Todd and Jeff and their packs, and Luke said goodbye to them before they drove off in the direction of the convoy. The two remaining men carefully but expertly rewound the dressings around Luke's chest before standing guard over him, protecting him where he half-sat under the edge of the brush. Presently the Jeep came back with only the leader in it. They carefully wedged Luke in the back, with his pack, and the three men squeezed into the front. Then, weapons at the ready, they set off.

Luke had expected them to travel just a few kilometres, but he guessed that they had done more than thirty before the Jeep turned off the minor road they had been on and began to travel along a track that led into some woods. The injuries plus the travelling had worn him down, and he was only partly aware of what was going on. One of the men had offered him a water bottle every so often, but he was beginning to feel hungry.

Eventually, they reached a clearing where several tracks met and stopped. Luke was carefully lifted out and sat against a tree at the side of the clearing. The men began gathering wood, and soon had a small fire going. One of the men walked off and returned shortly with a double handful of green material gathered from the verge, which was fed onto the fire until it smoked white. Once the smoke had been going for a minute or two, the leader unslung his gun, made sure it was set to single shot, and fired into the sky.

Meanwhile the other man pulled a battered loaf out of a pouch and began offering torn-off chunks to Luke. He managed to get some of this down accompanied by water, but his strength was fading. The light was fading, too, by the time another vehicle could be heard approaching through the woods. When it arrived, it turned out to be another ersatz Jeep, with two men in it, both armed as usual with Kalashnikovs. They stopped at the edge of the clearing, and the driver called.

The driver of his Jeep bowed deeply, and the two men approached. A conversation began, punctuated by gestures in Luke's direction. They were not speaking Serbo-Croat, or any language Luke had ever heard before. The driver of the other vehicle squatted down in front of Luke, and asked the driver of Luke's Jeep about his injury, which the other described in great detail and with much hand-waving. Finally, the man nodded, the two drivers shook hands, and his escort piled into their Jeep and drove off back the way they came.

Luke was carried by one of the men over to the second Jeep and settled into the back, together with his pack and his newly-acquired weapon. The Jeep set off into the gathering darkness, but Luke's conciousness had faded long before the sun actually set.

It was the birds that aroused Luke from his sleep. This was not unusual, since there had been occasions during his circuit around Europe when he had camped out, and other occasions when he had been forced to sleep rough. It was a while, though, in that state of semi-sleep before waking, before Luke finally remembered that he wasn't camping, and the events of the previous day came back with a rush. He opened his eyes.

He was in a kind of tent, though. This one had patched coloured canvas walls, supported by substantial-looking timbers that also supported a framed roof. The roof was made of a rectangle of transport-standard tarpaulin, the faded lettering of the truck company that once owned it still visible in the early morning light.

He was lying, or more accurately almost sitting, on a low bed or pallet inside this small, square "room". There were brightly coloured carpets completely covering the floor, and a small dresser and a chair off to one side. He was propped up in his bed by a huge pile of cushions, all with intricately embroidered covers, although a thick linen sheet had been put between them and him presumably to protect them from any leakage of his blood. At the foot of the bed, a small girl of about eight years sat cross-legged on the floor, dozing.

"Hello?"

The girl roused at the sight of his voice, gave him a startled glance, and hurriedly rose and vanished through the canvas flap at the far end of the tent. Very shortly, he began to hear voices from outside, accompanied by childish giggles. There was a faint smell of smoke in the air, together with other smells that promised food.

Luke began to take stock of his own condition while he waited for someone to appear. He was naked apart from his underpants under the provided blankets, but didn't feel particularly cold despite this. A linen bandage had been wound expertly around his lower chest, but the stain that showed through it was green, not red. He puzzled over that, and then puzzled even more over the similar bandage around his lower left arm. I don't remember injuring my arm. How did I do that? When did I do that? His head felt clear, but he was both hungry and thirsty.

A short while later, the flap was pulled open and three people came into the tent. The first was a man of about thirty to thirty-five, who was dressed in the standard eastern European uniform of tracksuit top and trousers. Unlike every man in the Balkans Luke had encountered so far, he was not carrying an AK but a small, modern machine pistol. Although the man did not actually aim it at Luke, it was clear that he would use it on him if the circumstances made it necessary.

Following the man into the tent were two women, one about the same age as the man, the other about Luke's age. Both were dressed in what could be described as traditional peasant costumes. The younger woman carried a large bowl which steamed. Luke began to salivate the moment he smelled it's contents, but she put the bowl on the dresser and stood back. It was apparent that the older woman was in charge.

She smiled and spoke, but of course there was no possibility of Luke understanding her. She frowned, and switched to another language, then something that might have been poor Serbo-Croat, then another language.

"Sorry, I don't understand. No comprendez." Luke shook his head and waved his hands in what he hoped conveyed that he didn't understand a word. Frustrated, the woman shrugged her shoulders and approached him. With a gesture, he allowed her to pull back the blankets and check his bandages. Apparently satisfied, she said something to the younger woman, who picked up the bowl and brought it to him, kneeling down beside the low bed. There was a spoon in the bowl, and Luke reached for it. The younger woman said something that he took to mean, "careful, it's hot," and he carefully picked up the spoon and brought it towards his mouth.

Stew? For breakfast? Whatever, Luke's hunger overrode his momentary doubt and he put the spoon in his mouth. Shortly thereafter, he was feeding the stew into himself as fast as he could blow each spoonful cool enough to put into his mouth. He had almost finished the bowl before he could rein his appetite in. He put the spoon back into the bowl and gravely thanked both the young and the old woman.

The older woman picked up Luke's watch from the dresser, tapped the face and held up a finger, then pantomimed undoing the bandages, which Luke took to mean would happen in an hour's time. He nodded and leaned back on the pillows, full, and quite warm from the heat of the stew. The two women let themselves out, followed by their guardian. Luke closed his eyes and dozed off.

When the women reappeared, the younger was carrying a basket containing bandages plus some other small items. She helped Luke to sit up properly so that they could unwind his chest bandage, her touch cool and light, but self assured. He discovered that the green stain had been caused by two small damp cloth bags which had been placed over his wounds, probably containing some kind of herbal poultice. When the bandage was removed he took the opportunity to inspect his wound, the front one at least, and he was interested to see that it no longer bled but just looked like a small hole with puckered edges. The poultice bags were replaced with fresh ones and clean bandages applied.

Then the older woman unwrapped his left arm and Luke was surprised by what was revealed. A cross had been cut in the underside of his arm, each diagonal being about two inches long. Despite the fact that this must have been done recently, there was no bleeding. Luke wondered. Had he been deliberately marked? What for? What would happen when his body healed this wound up in short order? A fresh bandage was applied, but no poultice was placed under it.

During all this, the two women had kept up a running conversation, and Luke had joined in with his own remarks. It was a shame that they were mutually incomprehensible. He had to try and find some way of communicating with them, because there was danger of misunderstanding if they didn't, not to mention other, more violent kinds of danger. Once they had finished ministering to him, he made a fresh attempt.

"I speak English. English. Inglisi. No? Habla Espanol? Parlez-vous Francais? Parliamo Italiano? Sprechen Sie Deutsch?" This last provoked a visible reaction from his guard, who looked as though he wanted to spit, but didn't want to soil the rich carpets. Okay, stay away from German. Luke could speak hardly any words of the languages he had named, but had tried them as an act of desperation. He looked at the older woman, and saw that she understood the difficulty. Luke dug deep, and tried a few words of his schoolboy Latin, followed by a few words of his even sketchier Greek, with a total lack of useful response. He threw up his hands in total frustration.

The younger woman laid her hand on his arm, as if to show sympathy. She spoke some sentences to him, then smiled and rose. The two women gathered up their things and left the tent, leaving the guard standing at the foot of the bed. Luke eyed him dubiously, but the man ignored him. Shortly, the older woman returned with another man somewhat older than herself. He came to the bed and began to try some other languages.

Luke could recognise none of them. Most of the languages sounded as if they came from the easternmost parts of Europe, they might have been Romanian, Bulgarian, Ukrainian, anything. One sounded as if it might have been Turkish. He had met some Turks when he and his companions at the time passed through Berlin, and learned to recognise the sound of the language, if not many of the words.

"English. I speak English." How was it that English was spoken in practically every corner of the planet, but no-one spoke it here? The man gave up, spoke a few words to the woman and left. Another older man arrived shortly to take his place.

"I... have... Inglesi... much... time," this one said. "Nyet. I have Inglesi since much years." Bingo!

"You spoke English a long time ago," guessed Luke. The man puzzled over the words, then nodded.

"Da. I meet... British... when... war," he got out. "Partisan. Chetnika." He pointed to himself. "Stefan."

Luke considered what he had said, trying to untangle the meaning. It was obvious that this man hadn't used any English he had learned for a long time. Partisan? War? Wow, this chap fought in a war over sixty years ago, and didn't look more than about forty. Looks like his hunch had been right, although there was still reason to be cautious. He realised that "Stefan" was the man's name.

"Stefan," he said, pointing to the man.

"Da," was the reply. Oh, well, you couldn't expect to get everything right.

"Luke," he said, pointing to himself.

"Look," the man said.

"Nyet," Luke said automatically. If it works, why complain? He thought about how the name 'Luke' would sound in these parts. He pointed to himself again.

"Luka."

"Ah, Luka," Stefan said. "Da. Pleased to meet you." Luke had briefly skimmed World War Two in history lessons, and remembered that the British had supplied the partisans in what was then Yugoslavia. Stefan had obviously remembered a stock phrase one or more of his contacts had used when meeting him. Stefan turned to the woman and spoke. There was a brief conversation, and Stefan spoke to Luke again.

"You be in..." he waved his arm around his head to indicate the tent, "till cloths go." He pointed to Luke's bandages. Luke understood. He was to remain in the tent until his wounds had healed enough for his bandages to come off. It looked as though he was a sort of captive, a well-looked after one maybe, but still a captive. Luke didn't mind, since this place was exactly where he needed to be while his wounds healed. He nodded to Stefan.

"Da. Okay."

He leaned back onto the pile of pillows while the two talked again. Finally, they nodded to him and then all three left the tent. After a while he rested his head and closed his eyes while he thought through the morning's events.

His wounds were obviously mending, that was clear, even though he was still pretty weak. Was it only yesterday he'd been shot? His chest felt a lot better, but he suspected that he wouldn't be able to breathe as deeply as normal for a number of days to come. Experimentally trying to take a deep breath, he got a very sharp twinge from the bottom of his right chest, and relaxed hurriedly. Okay, judging by his experiences with previous cuts and so on at school, he would be bandaged for probably six to ten days. That meant that he would be stuck in here for at least that time. After the last few months of stimulated continental travel, six to ten days shut in would get boring very quickly.

What of the cut on his arm? Did they do some kind of blood test? He couldn't figure that one out. He gave up speculating, and just lay with his eyes closed listening to the sounds of the camp outside the canvas. At least, he assumed it was a camp. Birds, children, men, women, someone chopping wood in the distance. Might be a farm. A small village?

The sounds of women's voices brought him to again. The younger woman held a wooden platter which she held out to him. Adjusting his position, he accepted it, and saw that it held bread, cheese, sliced meat and an apple. The older woman held a wine bottle and a metal goblet. She poured some wine into the goblet and carefully placed it on the carpet where he could reach it, putting the bottle on the dresser. His guard watched impassively from the foot of the bed as usual.

"What's your name?" he asked the younger of the two. She stared at him, baffled. He pointed to himself, said "Luka," then pointed to her.

She darted a glance at the older woman, then placed a finger on her chest and said, "Atiya." The older woman gave her a disapproving look.

"Atiya," Luke repeated, then pointed to the older woman. She looked offended, and gave a dismissive wave of her hand. He pointed to himself, said "Luka," again, and pointed to her.

She glared at him, then said, grudgingly, "Niyaan." The guard stared at her through slitted eyes.

Luke nodded to her and said, "Thank you." There was obviously some danger here, though he couldn't figure out what. He decided that his best course of action would be to eat, and turned his attention to the platter.

He tried to guess what the dark meat was from and gave up. It wasn't pork, or any kind of bird. Probably. Not mutton, beef or venison, either. Given the area he was in, it might be wild boar, or goat, or possibly even horse. Thinking about it, he had to consider bear, moose or even wolf as well. Whatever it was, it had been expertly seasoned and cooked, and tasted excellent. The cheese was acceptable, the bread had only been made that morning, and the wine was at least drinkable. His spirits rose. This was just the sort of food that would help him to get better. He thanked his hosts and returned the platter to Atiya.

Now, other demands of his body made themselves known. To the alarm of all three of his hosts, he began to get out of the bed and stand up. The guard pointed his gun at him, but Luke waved his arms in what he hoped indicated he wasn't threatening anybody. Getting up was tiring, but he had to make himself do it. Once upright, he pantomimed himself pulling his underwear down and then squatting. The two women got the point immediately, and Niyaan issued instructions to Atiya and the guard. The women left the tent, and returned after a couple of minutes carrying a box on short chair legs, which they manhandled inside and placed by the side of the bed. Atiya left again and returned bearing a toilet roll made from really coarse paper. She handed this to Luke and the three filed out to give him some privacy.

It was a commode, Luke found when he lifted the lid on the box. He did his business, got back into bed, and pulled the blankets back up before calling out for his hosts. They filed back in and resumed their former positions. Atiya removed the bucket concealed in the commode and took it away, returning with a jug of water, a basin for Luke to wash his hands in, and a block of rough soap. Once finished, they filed out again and left Luke to his own devices. He relaxed in the bed and promptly fell asleep.

From experience, his wounds often itched as they healed, and it was the itching that awakened him. He was alone, it must have been mid-afternoon, and it was relatively quiet outside. After a few moments to come to, he began to wonder what he might do to relieve his boredom. His eyes fell on his pack, to the side of his bed. He sat up, and very carefully turned to the side and pulled the pack towards himself. Opening it, he considered the contents that were visible. His mp3 player would work, but the batteries wouldn't last long, and he had no means of knowing if there was ever a likelihood of recharging them. His mobile phone, also, had to remain off. Actually...

He hunted for the phone and couldn't find it. That was fair enough, they obviously didn't want any information to leak out if they could avoid it. Or perhaps it had fallen out during the fight. Whatever, it wasn't in his pack now. His probing fingers found the one book he had bothered to carry round with him, a great thick novel of spies and high intrigue he had bought at some railway station or other. He didn't care about the book, it was just something to distract himself with while waiting for a train or a bus. If he needed to, he would cheerfully have used the pages to wipe his bottom or light a camp fire. For now, it would serve to occupy his mind.

The evening meal consisted of a chicken leg and a corn cob, served with some more bread and wine, brought by Atiya with Niyaan standing protectively over her. He cleaned the platter, and Atiya handed him a cloth to wipe his face and fingers with. There had been a heated discussion when Niyaan noticed the book on his blankets, but he had been allowed to keep it. There was certainly paranoia going on here, but if these people were what he suspected, then it was all extremely justified. His day ended with the sun setting, as did that of his hosts. From faint sounds outside after dark, it appeared that his tent was well guarded, although whether that was to stop him getting out, or others getting in, he was undecided.

*****

The second day followed the pattern of the first, except that breakfast was bread and fruit, accompanied by a hot drink that definitely wasn't tea. After his dressings had been changed, Stefan appeared and attempted to strike up a conversation. Luke was puzzled until he realised that the man wanted to refresh his English, and probably to attempt to bring it up to date. By lunch time, Stefan's rustiness had mostly gone. It seemed he had a good ear for picking up Luke's intonation, and Luke felt guilty that he might be condemning Stefan to his own regional accent.

It occurred to Luke that it would probably make more sense for him to learn some of his hosts' language, but Stefan steadfastly refused.

"Not speak words of Stefan until cloth gone."

"Bandage. Not cloth."

"Da. Bandage. Till bandage gone."

"Okay." If I can't get you to teach me some of your words, and you won't tell me about the people here, what can we talk about? "Tell me about the war, then. What did you do in the war?"

"British come, bring guns. We take guns, hide in rocks. Fascists come. We shoot Fascists, explode trucks. Also explode railways. Fascists chase, we hide in... big hills?"

"Mountains?"

"Da. We hide in mountains. Never find by Fascists. Now. How you get hole in body?"

Ah. So Luke told Stefan, slowly and carefully, what had happened when they were ambushed. He showed him the hole in the back of his pack, and opened it to show the damaged items. That started another conversation about the things Luke had in his pack that Stefan had never seen before, like his mp3 player. They were still talking when Atiya, accompanied by the ever-present Niyaan, brought in the lunch.

After lunch Luke was again left to his own devices. He read his book till he was fed up with it, then spent some time planning what he had to do if various possibilities presented themselves. One thing he was certain of, that he did not want to leave his hosts unless it became a matter of life or death. He was convinced that he had reached those called "the Daughters of Time", but the natural high levels of suspicion and secretiveness that both sides would automatically assume with those not of their own kind made it difficult to make contact.

Dinner was a bowl of stew made with some kind of unidentifiable meat, barley, and several kinds of vegetables Luke didn't recognise. It didn't matter, since he had realised that whatever these people were, they were superb cooks. If he could have licked the bowl clean, he would have. He thanked his hosts again, and then was left on his own again as night fell over the camp.

By the time Atiya and Niyaan came again the following morning to change his dressings, Luke had figured it out. So, when Atiya attempted to wrap his arm again, Luke put his hand in the way and said "Nyet."

Niyaan said some angry words to Luke, but he refused to let his arm be bandaged. Eventually, with the situation getting ugly, he said "Stefan. Get Stefan." The man arrived and Luke tried to explain that he wanted his arm left open, so that the wound could heal properly. Stefan conveyed this to Niyaan, and she assented very reluctantly, obviously unused to not getting her own way.

In truth his arm wound did not need bandages any longer. However deep the cut had been when it was made, all that was left was a thin parting of the top layer of skin, just enough to feel with a fingertip. Luke knew that in about three days, there would only be a fine silvery scar, and that within a week there would be no evidence left at all that a wound had ever occurred on his arm.

The two women withdrew, leaving Stefan and the unnamed guard. Luke wondered if Stefan would answer his questions. He tapped his arm with a finger.

"Stefan. Is this a test?"

Stefan struggled through the question, then said, "Da. Is test."

"Good. Test is necessary to show Luka is proper person to visit People. I understand."

Stefan was silent, and then nodded slowly. "Da. Luka understand, I understand, but we not speak of test till test finished."

"You are reluctant to give any information away to outsiders. I understand that. My people are just the same. How can my people and your people make contact if this is so?"

Stefan was silent a good deal longer this time as he digested Luke's words.

"Da. Stefan agree, but Niyaan elder, make laws. Luka wait two days, then People decide what happen to you. Now, talk of other things."

On the fifth day, the hole in his chest had almost closed up completely, and Luke could almost breathe as easily as before the shooting incident. Atiya wrapped a much simpler bandage around him this time, omitting the poultice bags. By this time, Luke was feeling rather dirty, as apart from the water used to clean his hands after each use of the commode, he had been given no opportunity to wash. He was still wearing the same pair of underpants that he had been wearing since before the shooting, although he did have spare pairs in his pack. He was uncertain what would happen, and had decided to wait to see what the women would decide before changing. Today his fate would be decided.

Mid-morning, Niyaan, Stefan and the ever-present guard entered his tent and stood looking at him. Luke sensed that the critical moment had come, and this was reinforced by the guard's actions. He took a muffler out of his jacket pocket and started screwing it onto the end of his machine pistol. Once completed, he pointed the weapon at Luke, and Luke's blood ran cold. He hadn't felt this scared since when the bandits accosted them.

"Show arm to Niyaan," instructed Stefan.

Luke held out his arm, and Niyaan approached, taking care to stay out of the line of fire. She caught hold of Luke's wrist and ran her thumb over the faint scar lines. By the expression on her face, Luke was unsure whether she was unhappy that he passed the test and that she would have to put up with him, or unhappy that she couldn't have him shot and solve the problem. She shot a staccato question at Stefan.

"She asks, would you bear her children?" Stefan's own expression was carefully guarded.

This is the single question that decides my fate, Luke thought. The question makes no sense if you don't know about the Z-people, and every sense if you do. How the heck do I answer that? If they are who I think they are, I'm okay. If, however, they are against the People, I could be signing my own death warrant. Okay, here goes nothing.

"Tell her, she must bear her own son first. I would be happy to assist her with that."

The first reaction came from the guard as Stefan translated. He grinned, put up his weapon, and immediately began unscrewing the muffler. Niyaan's own expression was a mixture of frustration and relief. She spoke a single sentence and stalked out of the tent, her head held high. The guard said something to Stefan which made both smile before he followed Niyaan, leaving Stefan alone with Luke.

"She say, you are of People, stay with camp till body properly heal." He grinned. "Stefan like idea of Luka giving Niyaan son, make Niyaan man again. Now Luka see camp. Atiya bring clothes for Luka, Luka leave tent. Stefan tell you words of People."

Now the dam had been opened, Luke found it difficult to stop Stefan to get a word in edgeways. There was a huge sense of relief that he had managed to contact the right group. Now, he could relax and enjoy himself for a while until the next sticking point came. They had let him into their circle, were they prepared to let him out again? At some point in the future, he would have to get back to the Moebius Institute.

He realised that Stefan was trying to show him something. He had a faded sepia photograph which showed five uniformed fighters sitting on a wrecked German tank, weapons held high. Stefan dabbed his finger at one of the figures.

"See? Partisan. Is Stefan. Different name, different body that time."

The finger firmly pointed at one of the two women sitting on the tank, proof that Luke had indeed found the Daughters of Time.

Luka took advantage of the delay to finally change his underwear, with Stefan keeping watch at the tent flap. Finally, Atiya appeared with a basket of clothing in her hands, which she put down on the bed. Luke was surprised, since none of it was his. Stefan explained.

"Luka not wear own things. Luka wear things of camp people, hide among camp people if stranger comes."

Of course. If he wore his own gear, he would stand out like a sore thumb. These people were dressed like typical Roma from what he had seen so far, in order to blend in with the various travelling groups wandering around Europe. If someone came across the camp, it was important that nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Luke pulled on a pale collarless shirt, with a plain waistcoat over it. Jeans seemed to be ubiquitous, so that was all right, although the pair he was given had seen better days - and several changes of fashion. There were no socks, and his bare feet went into a pair of decrepit trainers chosen from a selection at the bottom of the basket. A thin scarf was tied round his neck. All the clothing was old but carefully repaired and scrupulously clean. Atiya ran her fingers through his hair and arranged it in the sort of rough mop one developed living in the country. Finally he was ready to be introduced to the camp and Stefan led him through the flap of the tent, followed by Atiya.

The first big surprise he had was that he was high up. It hadn't occurred to him, but his tent was in fact a room built on the back of a horse-drawn wagon. There was a ledge at the rear where they could stand, and wooden steps down to the ground. Facing him, in a clearing in the trees, was a circle of similar dwellings, some on wagons and some on old flat-bed trucks. An open-sided marquee which appeared to be the camp kitchen stood to one side. Luke took in little of the detail, however, because standing facing his dwelling were the entire population of the camp. Men, women and children of all ages, dressed exactly as he would have expected them to be, stood waiting for him to appear. As he did so, Niyaan climbed a couple of the steps so that she could be seen, and spoke to the crowd, who burst into applause.

Stefan translated through the noise. "Niyaan says 'This is Luka, he is of the People, but not of the...' I am sorry, I do not know the word. What would name be for this group you see?"

"Don't know, Stefan. Clan? Tribe? Yeah, perhaps tribe is the best word."

"Da. Luka is of People but not of tribe. Make Luka welcome as one of us."

There was no time for more explanation, as the camp members surged forward to inspect their new guest. He sat gingerly down on the ledge so that his legs dangled over the edge and shook hands with all of the men - and all of the children, who thought this was a great game. The women gave him a thorough going-over, and some of them had speculative looks on their faces as they made way for others. Luke estimated there to be somewhere between forty and fifty people altogether, although there may have been others working nearby. It was difficult to do much, since Luke could not speak a word of the language and Stefan's English was so poor.

As Luke had been stuck in the dwelling for so long he wanted to stretch his legs. Stefan took him on a gentle walk through the woods surrounding the camp until they arrived at the nearby river. They were followed by most of the children, who had decided that Luka was sufficiently interesting to capture their attention. Even when Stefan sternly told them off they still followed at a distance, the older ones laughing and talking, the younger ones staring wide-eyed at the new stranger.

A shout from the camp made all the children go running off, and Stefan told Luke that it was lunch time. By the time they returned to the camp, a series of tables had been laid out together and covered with food and drink. Niyaan sat at one end of the arrangement and Luke sat at the other. Some kind of prayer or grace was muttered by all, and then they fell on the food.

*****

"You want me to do what?"

Luke was speaking in Harse, the People's name for the language they spoke. He had been there for two months, and could hold a reasonable conversation now. He very rarely now had to ask Stefan to tell him a word he did not know. He had integrated well into the life of the camp, and was now fully accepted by all, even Niyaan. He joined in with all the chores, and had proven useful when the time had come to move the camp. His chest wound had finally disappeared as though it had never existed.

A turning point had come when he had been talking with the camp's elders. These were 'elders' in the real sense of the world, since two of them insisted they could remember Napoleon's armies tramping over the countryside. He had discovered that although they had a good idea what happened to them, they had no idea why, and the three slides he had been shown at the Moebius Institute had come unbidden into his mind.

He found blackboard and chalk substitutes and lectured the elders on the wonders of genetics, explaining exactly what happened and why. This convinced them that he really was one of them, and that he really knew what he was talking about, and that there was at least one other organisation of People elsewhere in the world. As Luke knew, the feeling that one was not alone in the world was a powerful one. All of which should have made Stefan's request an obvious one, but Luke had been brought up with different morals...

"I only asked if you would make a baby with Atiya, Luka. The tribe has need of your blood."

Atiya was one of the normal girls who had been born to tribe members. They were usually integrated into the tribe with no problems. Occasionally, one would be married out to another Roma group but most were not. She had kept close to Luke since he had arrived, and he had not exactly resisted. He had made sure not to show any undue interest in her, however, just treating her as a friend who could help him become one of the tribe, at least for now.

She was, however, very pretty, and Luke could feel the attraction. Luke wondered whether giving Atiya a child would bind him to the tribe, since he was determined to go home before his time came in order that the Institute could oversee his transition. If this was the case, it could cause difficulty, since he definitely did not want to end up a permanent member of the tribe. He also understood the problems that any limited gene pool might cause. He needed advice, and fast.

"Stefan, I cannot answer you now. I need to talk to the elders first. There is the question of my own People to consider."

"I do not understand the problem."

"My People have different customs to yours. I need to know what might happen in the future. My future."

"Da. I will ask the elders to meet with you this evening."

After dinner, Luke met the elders in one of the dwellings and explained his problem.

"Before I came to the People, I had promised my father that I would be with him when my change comes," he began. "Will you be willing to let me go when it is necessary?"

One of the ancients spoke, currently a woman who appeared about thirty years old.

"You have shown that you are no danger to our tribe. Although normally we would say no, you are not local and it would be cruel to your people to keep you away."

Niyaan nodded. "You have taught us much since you have been here. We would let you go, but reluctantly."

Luke said, "Would you change your minds if I were to make babies with Atiya, or with any other girl? Would you consider me her husband?"

"Ah," Niyaan said, nodding, "I see what lies at the heart of the matter. No, that is not the way our tribe lives. It cannot, since a husband may become a wife, and a wife a husband, so we cannot have permanent couples like the normals do. No, we understand that you may stay with the tribe for as long as you wish, but then you must leave. We would not deny you that."

"So, assuming that both I and the girl were agreeable, I could make babies, and no-one would object? Would you want me to choose other girls as well?"

"Why would you do that? We did not consider you such a person."

"I'm not. Well, not normally, but this isn't a normal situation. Care for another lecture?"

He explained the problems of a limited genetic pool, and the benefits of fresh material from outside. Although most of the elders had been around a long time, their brains were still sharp and most of them understood the point he was trying to make. The small number of tribes of People that normally circulated around eastern Europe had interbred, of course, but it was still a limited pool. Luke was offering them access to another pool in his own country.

"What of Atiya, and women like her? Do they mind being used in this way?" he asked at the end.

"They would consider it an honour," Niyaan replied. "Especially since you are of the People, and so any son you may give her will be of the People also. Unlike ourselves, who can only bear one son at a time, she can bear many if fate decrees it. Bearing one of the People is a great honour for women like Atiya, since it also means that she could not be given to another tribe in marriage, but remain part of ours."

"I see." So N-women were integrated into the tribe, and apparently understood that their lives would be different to those of the People, and accepted that. "What of the normal men? Are they treated the same way?"

"It is difficult," replied Niyaan. "The normal men of the tribe are only allowed to choose partners from among the People. Of course, if his partner should have a boy, then the partnership is ended, and he is free to choose another. If some do not like this, or want to go for other reasons, they may marry into another tribe, even a tribe of normals. We know that any who leave will not betray us. Many stay, and are our strength and our shield. They know that they are born of the People, and that the People must be protected."

"Very well," Luke concluded the session. "I will try and do as you ask. The customs of my tribe are different to yours, and I might find it difficult, so you must not assume that I will be successful. I will try anyway."

A boy given carte blanche to bed as many young women as he wishes? Every boy's dream, surely? But we all know that theory is very different to practice. Let's hope I can make this work. But something inside of Luke foresaw the likely consequences of his decision, and it took the shine from his task.

*****

"I've never done this before."

"Neither have I. Does that concern you, Luka?"

"Only that I might fail. Or that I might hurt you."

"A woman knows that there is pain in her life, whether it is her first time with a man, or when it is the command of the moon, or when she brings her baby into the world. We know all these things, as you will know them when you become one of us for a time. Do not worry about me, I will survive, as every woman survives."

"I know. But it doesn't make me feel any better. And I wish, I just wish that I could be normal, and give myself to you as normal people do, and be your husband for always."

"You know that cannot be, Luka, much though I would also like that. Your destiny is something completely different. Enjoy your time as a man, and remember it when you are a woman. Then, when you are a man again, you will be a better lover than any normal man could ever be. Now, it is time for the talking to end."

They lay together in one of the wheeled dwellings. It was almost dark, and a single candle provided just sufficient light, set in such a way that it wouldn't throw shadows from the movements of the occupants onto the canvas walls. The same could not be said of the inevitable noise. There was a single cry, in a high-pitched female voice, and the other occupants of the camp who had carefully made sure that they could hear everything, while outwardly appearing to ignore the activity in the dwelling, each gave a hidden smile as nature took its course.

In the morning, the tribe gathered silently around the dwelling to await the appearance of Luke and Atiya. When they did appear, they were greeted by all kindly and calmly, as everyone knew that an important ritual had been performed. Luke had gone in a boy and emerged a man, and Atiya glowed with her new status as a woman of the tribe.

*****

"But I don't understand, Luka. Why not?"

"I think it's because of the way I've been brought up, which is as a normal. Because I've always known there was something different about me, that could be passed on to any children, also makes me very reluctant to lay with a woman. I know you don't understand, because the way of life of the tribe is so different to mine. I want to be with you, and only you, while I stay at the camp."

Luke rested his hand on the slight bulge on Atiya's stomach. It seemed that he would not have any problem with fertility, although Luke and Atiya had made sure by making as many attempts as they could manage, in the approved fashion. Luke was entirely besotted by his companion, and therein lay the problem.

"But, Luka, you are young, and strong, and many of the women admire you. Why should you not give them your gift? Do you need help? I will join you if you think it would help."

Luke went red and stammered something incoherent. Again, the fantasy of having sex with more than one woman looked different by the cold light of day. He muttered something about loving Atiya, and about matters of honour.

"Bah," she said. "Perhaps this new blood of yours is not worth having. I shall ask the elders for a potion to remove this child. I would not want a son of mine to grow up behaving in such a manner."

"No! Don't do that, Atiya, please." Luke had realised that the women held the power in the tribe. "It's nothing to do with my seed, it's just the different way we were brought up. Perhaps I ought to handle this in a different manner. Understand, you will always be my first love -"

"Of course. How could it be any different? Did we not lie together?"

"We did, and I will remember you always, and wish that I did not have to go. But if I have to lay with any of the other women, I want to make sure that you do not think I am insulting you."

"Why ever would I do that? It is for the good of the tribe."

And therein lies the fundamental difference between us. I am going to have to treat this whole episode as an attempt to improve bloodstock. I just hope I can handle the emotional side. I can't be cold-blooded about this, it's not the way I function. I'm not about to rape anyone.

"I will do as you ask, Atiya, for the good of the tribe, though it causes me distress. I would welcome your help."

In the end he did not need to worry, since four of the younger adult girls simply plied him with wine and then led him by the arms into one of the dwellings. He did not rape them, it is true, but who was to say that the reverse did not occur? This activity was repeated over a number of nights, with breaks to allow all parties to recover, and at the end of two months two were pregnant. By this time, too, the constant attention had completely overwhelmed Luke's natural reluctance. He had spent a year at the camp.

*****

Despite the apparent rustic nature of the camp, the tribe was relatively up to date with technology. One of the dwellings boasted a satellite TV, and the whole tribe watched on rare occasions with the side of the tent pulled up to allow them to see and hear. The men-folk kept the machinery of the camp and it's vehicles in first-class condition - despite apparent external appearances - and there were also small machine-tools hidden in one of the wagons if anything needed more extensive work done. There were several generators, and Luke had found that he could get his gadgets charged. So, after making sure his phone was fully charged, with Stefan driving and his AK in his hand, they borrowed one of the Jeeps and set off for a larger village where it was possible a phone signal might be received.

"Dad? It's me. Your son, remember?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. I'm sorry I haven't called before, I had an injury and I've been in an area with no phone signal."

"Well, postal services around these parts are a bit rudimentary, you know? I didn't want to trust anything to the mail, especially as it would have to pass through two or three hands before it even got to a post box."

"No, I'm perfectly okay now, it all healed up well. I'll have to give you the full details when I get home again."

"I'm not sure where I am, actually. Somewhere in what used to be Yugoslavia, I think. Might have crossed a border or several somewhere along the way, so I wouldn't swear to that."

"I sound funny? Well, I had to learn the local lingo in order to be able to do anything. Haven't spoken English to anyone for nearly a year." Not quite true. Stefan is getting quite fluent now. "And before you ask, it isn't Serbo-Croat, I don't know what the outside world calls this local dialect."

"Yeah, I've made lots of friends. I'll be quite sad to leave, but I think I've been away long enough." Which is sort of code for, I know I can't leave it too much longer in case I start the transition early. "I'll be leaving at the end of next week, and I'll make my way down to Athens as quickly as possible and then fly home. It's possible I might bring company."

"You've done what? Why? Oh. That's a big disappointment, I liked that house, it was where I grew up. Tell you what, I'll call when I get to Athens and you can give me the new address."

"Yes, and you. I'll try and call if there are any changes in my plans, ha ha! Phone masts are few and far between round these parts. People keep stealing them for the metal."

"Yeah, I'll do that. Bye, Dad."

*****

"It's time to go, Atiya. I wish I didn't have to."

"I know, beloved. I wish so, too, but your time will come soon and you must be with your people."

"I wonder if I'll ever see our child."

"It is possible. You have been taught the recognition words and signals, you know that you will always be welcome back here in the future."

"I wonder. Technology is moving on all the time. I may be able to contact you from where I am. Maybe Stefan and I can work out something when I get home. I think it would be a good idea if the tribes, including mine, can get closer into contact. There is much we can learn from one another."

"It is good that you agreed to take Stefan. The blood will flow both ways, and only good can come from that. Take care, my beloved, and I hope that you will be as beautiful a woman as you are handsome as a man."

Luke wrapped himself carefully around his pregnant partner and hugged her close for one last time, tears streaming down his face. Finally, he broke contact and climbed into the Jeep with Stefan and a driver, to be taken to a rural railway station some distance away. He looked back until the trees hid the camp. Now, he understood the pain that his father had described. For Luke, it was not because his transition had begun, but the transition was the cause. Atiya would never see Luke again, nor would his unborn child ever see it's father. The person who Luke would become might return one day to find Atiya and their child, but their relationship would be an entirely different one.

"Is it always like this, Stefan?"

"Always. Even amongst the People. We have been given a gift, but the gift comes with a price that many find very hard to bear."

The Jeep roared into the trees, and into Luke's future.

"I can't believe you went and did that, Luke!" Daniel hissed. "After all that we went through to drum basic security into you! Don't you understand, all our lives could be threatened!"

"It's all right, Dad!" replied Luke quietly. They were standing in the darkened kitchen of the flat, darkened because it made it more difficult for any eavesdropper to lip-read them through the window. "I told you, I wouldn't have done it if I hadn't had a hole in my chest. I made very sure that I only got into contact with the right people."

"How can you be absolutely sure that they are the 'right people', as you put it, and not a group set up to suck in people like us? This whole 'People' thing could just be an elaborate charade designed to get unwary travellers to spill the beans about their own groups."

Luke could tell that his father was furious, but Daniel still kept his voice down so that he did not disturb their guest, sleeping in the smaller bedroom. Luke tried again. He had anticipated the problems that might happen when he introduced Stefan to his father.

"I know that, but I didn't have much choice at the time. It works the other way, you know, they were fanatically paranoid about me when I appeared. I really didn't like having a loaded machine pistol, with a silencer I might add, pointed at my head while I was cross-examined."

"That could have all been theatre to lull you into a false sense of security."

"And the fact that they taught me their secret language, and that while I was there I was permitted to father three children by women of the tribe?"

"You did what? Still could be a put-up job."

"For a year? And they let me go at the end of it?"

"With a watchdog in tow. They were going to make sure that they could follow you back to base. I feel sick inside when I think of what you've done to us."

"And the fact that I watched three transitions while I was there? Two of the women had boys, and changed back before my eyes. One of the older men had started to change when Stefan and I left. He had visible breasts and his voice raised in pitch. You can't fake things like that."

Daniel grunted. "You didn't tell me that before either. It still doesn't quite prove the whole thing was a set-up. Why are you calling him Stefan, anyway? That's not what was on his passport."

"Come on, Dad! Daniel Renshaw wasn't the name on your birth certificate either. Now. Do you think I haven't thought about all this? I've had a year to figure out what would happen when I got back, and so far my guesses have been accurate. So, I'm going to ask you to do one single thing, and that should prove it one way or another."

"How can I possibly do that? Any way we try to prove his story, it could be backed up as far as the eye can see."

"Except for one important fact. Look. You're going to go out tomorrow sometime, find a call box, if there are still any around, and make a phone call. Sometime after that, an un-named person will arrive, give you a pass-word, and take a blood sample from Stefan. The sample gets taken to a certain laboratory we know about, not necessarily directly, and gets tested. If he's got the Z chromosome, we're okay. If he hasn't, you can arrange for someone to shoot both of us. Fair enough?"

Daniel stared at his son, and then shook his head in bemusement. "I still can't believe this is happening." He let out a sigh. "You're right, about the only way to make sure, anyway. Let me think about it overnight. Will you promise me to keep Stefan here all day tomorrow, if I agree to this mad scheme of yours? It may take me some time to arrange, and I don't want to be trailed around. In fact, since you arrived here you may have been followed, so I may already have to shake off trackers. We'll discuss it in the morning, okay? I'm not a person who can be easily shocked, but you certainly managed it today, didn't you? I don't know how much sleep I'll get after this evening's bombshell."

"Sorry, Dad, I knew it wouldn't be easy. It wasn't easy doing it the other way either."

"All right, time we were both in bed. Good night."

As the two moved towards the kitchen door, smells and sounds wafted up from below.

"Dad?"

"Yes, what is it now?"

"Why did you have to get a flat over a fish and chip shop?"

*****

"Have a seat, Luke," Frances Canning said. "You'll be pleased to know that your medical results were just as we expected, that is, there's absolutely nothing wrong with you."

"Thank you, Mrs Canning," Luke responded. "I did wonder whether there was anything left to find of the old war wound, so to speak."

"No, there wasn't. Would you like something to drink? No? As I was saying, your gunshot wound has almost vanished without trace. I say almost, because there is a tiny nick on one of your ribs at the back where the bullet touched it on the way out. Presumably there was a matching bone fragment which your body has since absorbed. I want to thank you for agreeing to spend some time in the scanner for us, it's not often that we get that kind of injury to examine. Of course, being so long after the incident, there's not much left to examine, but I think the exercise was worthwhile anyway, since it's meant we can prove that your body is functioning the way it's supposed to."

"Glad to be of some assistance, Mrs Canning."

"I'm glad you survived to render it, Luke. Now, that's brought me to the real reason for this conversation. When your parent informed us you'd told a group of persons unknown to us all about our organisation, you started a severe panic here. We were about ready to close down the Institute, burn down the buildings and flee."

"I'm truly sorry, Mrs Canning, I really am, but the way events panned out, it was almost fated that I was going to end up being looked after by the People. It was that, or bleed to death halfway between two small villages."

"I can't argue with that. You did what was necessary to survive, as we all have done from time to time." Frances paused, as memories from her past life surfaced. "You were just lucky that you found the right people."

"Oh, yes, I'm really aware of that. I knew I was taking a risk, but I did what I could to minimise the possible problems, and the Roma group who found us at the roadside were also very cautious. Then when I got to the People, they were just as suspicious of me as I was of them. It took a while and a few tense moments before they accepted me. Actually, the gunshot wound helped. The speed at which that healed up made it certain I was the same sort of human as they were."

"Then you went and brought one of them back here! There were nearly several heart attacks here when we found that out."

"It seemed a good idea at the time, as they say. I did realise what the reaction might be, though, and I worked out the only way to prove his good intentions."

"Yes, and I must thank you for doing that." Luke looked with puzzlement at the Institute's Director. "The chance to examine someone who's demonstrably not related to anyone in our own group is invaluable. I'm pleased that Mr Anistonis -"

"Just call him Stefan, Mrs Canning. Everyone else does. Costas Anistonis is just the name on the passport we bought for him."

"Very well, I'm pleased that Stefan is willing to spend some time with us being examined, and also exchanging information about our two groups. In a way, looking at the bigger picture, you've done us a valuable service."

"How's that?"

"We were so paranoid about ourselves, although you readily understand why. It makes contact with any other Z-people very difficult, unless we discover them ourselves. It's made us realise that we don't even have any protocols for interacting with any other groups, we were so inward-looking. Now you've effectively made a linkage to one group, and through them to several other groups travelling around central Europe. We can exchange information of many kinds without compromising our security very much at all."

"That's what I'd more or less hoped when I suggested that he came back with me."

"Of course, because they are nomads they can live their lives in a wholly different way to us and get away with it. Against that, because they are moving around all the time they can't set up places like this." She waved her hand to indicate the building they were in. "There's a great deal we can learn from each other. Tell me, why do they call themselves the People? I thought that they were called the Daughters of Time?"

"You've answered your own question. They call themselves the People. It's other Roma groups that call them the Daughters of Time, although the distinction from this distance is a fine one. To the People, we are the People as well, just a different tribe."

"Tribe?"

"My translation for a word which describes a group of People who travel together. It's probably not exact."

"I see. You presumably mentioned all this when you were debriefed?"

"Yes, Mrs Canning. There were some other things I'd like to discuss with you, that I didn't mention in the debriefing, if you have the time?"

"Other things? You mean, not connected to the People?"

"Yes. I've been travelling around most of western Europe, with a few diversions further east, as you probably know. It occurred to me that the Institute, or rather the local group of Z-people who use the Institute, might be missing a trick. Do you have much to do with the transgender scene here?"

"Transgender? What do you mean? Gays and transvestites? No, we try and avoid them."

"I thought so. When I was in Berlin, one of the guys I was with took us to a club for gays and persons of mixed gender. He had a friend who was transgendered. I learned a lot there. I was wondering if we could use transgender clubs as useful meeting places. Also, since such things have now become mainstream -"

"They have?"

"Indeed they have. What I'm getting at is that it's now acceptable for a man - or a woman, although that's less common - to legally change to the other gender. This means that they can keep their history and all their assets, which means they don't have to do a runner like we do. We could hide our transitions in amongst those of the general population. This wouldn't have been possible thirty years or more ago."

"You're sure about this? Perhaps we ought to do some research. That's one of our problems now, we're of an older generation, while you're younger and more in touch with the most modern developments."

"I was going to suggest that I do the research for you, and present the Institute with the current state of affairs plus some suggested lines of action. I also discovered that Gender Realignment Surgery takes place in many countries. One of the options I'd already thought of was, why don't we open such a clinic? While we process the normals who want to do the swap, we slide some of our own through as well. Of course, for a Z-person, we don't actually have to do anything but wait. No-one will know, but coming out the end we have a fully-documented gender-change case to satisfy the authorities."

"I'll give you this, you have a suitably devious mind. Very well, you'll write us a report. But."

"Mrs Canning?"

"You'll do it as an employee. You might as well get paid properly for what you do, and I know you're bright enough to be able to produce a decent report. Agreed?"

"Well, yes, thank you, Mrs Canning. I'll try and do my best. Are you sure about this?"

"I am sure. Besides, I offered you the chance of a position the first time you came here, remember? If this works out, you'll be our resident expert on the, what did you call it? Transgender scene."

"Thank you again, Mrs Canning."

*****

"Have you packed everything you want to take, Stefan? I don't want to have to try and post anything to you when I find it later, you might never get it."

"Thank you Daniel, I have made sure that I have packed everything. If you find anything that I missed, you are free to dispose of it as you wish."

"Are you going to manage these bags all right? That laptop bag is quite heavy."

"Da, I will be all right. I have had to carry much more than this in the past."

"But probably not when climbing on and off a plane."

"No, that is true."

"Of course, the new security measures don't help. If you pack some in the hold, the baggage handlers might steal it, and if you take it in the cabin some nosy security inspector will want to make sure it's not going to be used as a weapon."

"Bacon sandwiches okay, Dad, Stefan?"

"Yes, thank you Luke. I'll get the coffee started."

"It seems strange to me to call you Luke. To me, you will always be Luka. And in a few years, even Luka will be history."

"That will be strange. Our names, and even our faces, will keep changing. How do you remember who and what you are? Dad, Stefan, do either of our groups have problems psychologically in that respect, do you know?"

"It's been talked about in the Institute, I know, Luke. The current theory is that we're already predisposed to accommodate the changes that happen. I can't say that I've noticed much problem myself when I've transitioned."

"I haven't had a problem, Luke, except the first time that it happened. It was all so strange, I thought I was going mad. Only the monks saved me."

"How's that then? Monks?" asked Daniel.

"Oh, I think you were somewhere being poked and prodded when Stefan told Mrs Canning about his past, Dad. Stefan, we've got time over breakfast, why don't you tell Dad what happened to you?"

"Thank you, Luke. If there is one thing I will miss when I return, it will be bacon sandwiches. Yes, I will tell you, Daniel, although I don't think there's time for everything."

"That's fine. I'll be interested to hear about your past. If my own is anything to go by, it'll be quite an adventure."

"Yes, but I was in central Europe, remember. I think I should use the word 'ordeal' rather than 'adventure'. Well. To start with, I was born in the year that the Great War started, and I came into the world on the same day that Archduke Franz Ferdinand was assassinated, and in the same place, Sarajevo. Of course, I knew nothing of the Great War, being so small. My mother was a normal woman, so she remained my mother for all of my childhood. My father was not so lucky, because he went off to war and never came back."

Stefan paused to take a bite of his sandwich and dispose of it.

"Hmm. I always assumed, for a long time, that he had been killed in the war. Of course, he may have been, or he may have been captured, or displaced, or forced to flee somewhere else, I don't know. Now that I know what happens, I wonder if he, or she, is still alive somewhere.

"So, I grew up in this new thing called Yugoslavia and watched the world turn to madness around us. In," he laboriously translated the date, "1938, was the time of my first change. Of course, I did not know what was happening, but fortunately the priest who watched over the village where I lived then with my mother knew that the signs were important, and I was taken to a remote monastery in order to be examined. There were both monks and nuns in this place, and I became first one and then the other. It seems that this place was a haven for lost People like ourselves, where the change could be hidden within the walls."

"So, there were helping hands out there even then," commented Daniel as Stefan munched some more of his breakfast.

"Da, they were good people. They did not understand what was happening to us, of course, but they knew that it did happen, and they knew that we would be hunted down as witches if outsiders found out, so they sheltered us. We did not have to stay in the monastery once we had changed, but it gave us a period of grace while we learned to become the new persons that we were."

He took a sip of his coffee and his eyes glittered.

"And then the Germans came. We were all forced out of the monastery and it was used by the Fascists as some kind of command building."

"A headquarters?" asked Luke.

"Da. Later, it was destroyed by bombing. By that time I had joined the Partisans and we were fighting the Fascists wherever we could. The end of the war came and I discovered that I had become a Communist. I served with the Yugoslav army for a time and then returned to normal life. It was not until just after the Sputnik went into the sky that I married a man from the factory where I worked, and we had a daughter and then a son. It was a very difficult time. It was not easy for me to hide in such a suspicious country when I suddenly became a man again. I moved out to one of the rural regions and became a farm worker."

"Ow," said Daniel. "We thought we had it hard over here, I guess it must have been bad for you."

"Not so hard as if I had ended up in the Soviet Union or the east of Germany, fortunately. My problem was, I had now switched twice, and I had no idea when the next change would come. I kept quiet and began to prepare for the next time, should it arrive. When the signs came in," more laborious calculation, "1986, I recognised what was happening and I was ready to disappear. I had money and new documents waiting when it happened. I managed to move into Romania at that time to try and hide my traces. Since I had realised that giving birth seemed to be the thing that set off the change back to a man, I prepared for what might happen again. I found a job helping in a bakery in a small town there and married the baker. I had nine good years with him before the curse struck again."

Daniel had been counting up the years in his head. "So, you've still got a good few years to run this time, then."

"Da. I have been this time eleven years a man. One of the maternity nurses at the hospital where I gave birth recognised some kind of sign, and managed to get me out of the hospital and passed me to the Roma tribe where Luka found me. You can imagine the relief I felt, at not having to run again, and the wonder that I had found more like myself. And you can imagine how excited I was when Luka appeared in our camp."

"So you're not a native Roma, then? I always assumed you were."

"No, like Luke here, I am an outsider. I have been fully adopted by the tribe, though. My future will always be with them, I think."

"I should think so! Sometimes I wish we had a set-up like that."

"It has good points and bad, like your own way of life. We can move around and avoid the many questions authorities like to ask, but because we are always on the move it becomes difficult to do many things. For example, we cannot do any research like you can. We are relatively isolated, unlike yourselves. The new modern computers and portable telephones may change that."

"Against that, you get to keep your friends and family. I think that's the hardest part of being a Z-person in this country, having to cut all ties when you change. I hope the new ideas the Institute is having will put an end to that."

"I have made many friends here, I would not like to lose them."

"More coffee, Stefan?" Luke asked.

"Thank you, but I think I will not drink any more until I get to the airport."

"I hope you'll send us some pictures of my son and daughter," Luke said. "And the new baby when it arrives. I just wish I could have been there in person to see them arrive."

"Don't worry, the new digital camera I am taking back will be very well used, Luke. It may take some time before your pictures arrive in the post, though, you know what it's like out there."

"The taxi's here, Dad. Stefan, I'll carry one of these down, if you like."

"Thank you, Luke."

"So, see you in two year's time, then."

"About then. I'm not sure where we'll be, or where you'll be either, but I'll let you know as soon as I can when I'll be coming back over here."

"I'm sure we'll have lots more to discuss by then."

"Well, it's good-bye, then, Luka. Good-bye, Daniel. Thank you for letting me stay in your home."

"Any time. I'm sorry about the suspicion when you first came, but you know why that was. I don't know where, who or what we'll be when you next come, but we'll be waiting. Good-bye, Stefan."

*****

"Dad? A question I've been meaning to ask for some time, why are we living in this grotty old flat? I still don't understand how you managed to get those investments so badly wrong. It's not nice living around here, it smells outside and there are dodgy people around after dark."

"Actually, Luke, all this is carefully planned."

"Come again?"

"This is deliberate, Luke. Three times now I've had to skip out and leave a family behind, running away with almost nothing but what I was wearing. This time, though, it's possible to take it with us, or at least most of it. With the help of the Institute, all our savings were moved over time into several dummy investment companies which then deliberately made losses. Of course, the money wasn't really lost, it just got passed on into other dummies where it's being held in trust for two young women who will appear in a few years time. In this way I've been gradually liquidating all our assets, including the big house and my cars. If you like, what we're doing is a form of money-laundering."

"Is that what this is about? I wondered why we kept moving into smaller and smaller properties. I know you don't have a lot of cash left, it never occurred to me that it was all planned."

"The moving around is good, too. It will make it harder for anyone to follow our tracks once we're gone and it will just look like we've slid off the bottom of the ladder. I should have explained earlier what I was up to, but I had to put it all in motion when you were in Europe and of course it all has to be kept secret."

"What about my stuff? Should I be getting rid of all that? There are some things I'd like to hang on to, if it's possible. And what about my position at the Institute? They pay me good money for what I do."

"That one's quite tricky. You'll have to speak to someone there about your pay. If I remember correctly, there's a scheme whereby they give you a bona-fide payslip and a percentage of the cash, but hold the rest in trust for afterwards. As for your bits and pieces, I believe that they have a scheme for those as well. Most Z-people in the past haven't had the luxury of carrying over goods from one persona to the next, so most of us aren't too bothered. Your new life may be so different to what you know now that you won't want very much of your stuff anyway. It's certainly not worth bothering about clothing, although you shouldn't dispose of too much of that too soon. You'll still be a male for a couple of years yet, and you've still got to look tidy for your job at the Institute."

*****

"You wanted to see me, Frances?"

"Yes, sit down, Luke. An indicator in your latest blood test has turned positive. Your change has begun."

"Really? That's a bit early, isn't it? I'm only just twenty-four."

"No, this is about what we expect from that particular protein level. Although the change itself only takes four to six months, your body starts preparing for it some time beforehand, so you've got about a year to go. For you, it's not going to be a huge drain on your body resources, but for someone who's going through their second or third male-to-female change, it can put quite a significant stress on the body. Don't worry," she added on seeing Luke's expression, "you won't die, you'll just eat and sleep a great deal."

"I'm a young man," grinned Luke, "I can do that."

"For you," Frances Canning continued, "it's more your mental health we'll be concerned about. Although, since you are fully aware of what's about to happen, I think your transition will happen quite smoothly. Unlike most of us older folk who got caught by surprise the first time, you have the benefit both of our hindsight and of modern attitudes to transgender people in general."

"I'm glad of that! I'm also glad of the research I did for the Institute."

"Yes, that's played a major part in changing how we handle the process. Now, for the time being, continue as you are, but we'll be testing you again in two months, and then every month from then on. In about nine or ten months time, you'll have to formally quit your post here at the Institute, and I would think that's about the right time for you to move out of your father's flat. We don't have a date for your father's change, but I would guess from past experience that he will be about six months behind you."

"That's going to be weird. First he's my mother, then he's my father. I've only ever known him as my father. Then he's going to turn back into a woman, but, not a woman who could be my mother, but one who is going to be more like a sister or a cousin. And worse, his body is going to be younger than mine. That's going to be a big change in our relationship."

"Women tend to bond easier than men, so it won't be quite as strange as you might think, but, yes, it will be odd to start with. I wasn't with my first son when I changed, but I was for the second and third, so I had some idea what to expect by then. It was... interesting."

"You say I'll have to leave the flat. Where do I go then? Do I come to the Institute?"

"No. We don't want anyone who's transitioning anywhere near here if we can help it. No, we own a small number of guest houses around the country, and you'll become a long-stay resident of one of those. Somewhere along the way, Mister Luke Renshaw checks out and vanishes, and the room is taken by Miss... have you begun to think of a name, yet, for who you want to be afterwards?"

"I've had a few thoughts, but I wanted to see if there were any rules before I made a short-list."

"Quite right. There's not a great many rules, fortunately. We do say, all your initials should be completely different. Don't make your first name the female version of your current name, that's asking for trouble."

"So, not Lucy or Lucille, then?"

"Exactly. If anyone's trying to make links, to try and trace us, that sort of thing is a red flag. Surname, we tend to use the traditional pin in a phone directory, but obviously we have to take ethnicity into account as well. It's unlikely given that you're obviously of western european origin, that your surname would be Patel or Ojukwu or Hashimoto for example, although not impossible. Anything that's out of the ordinary will make an investigator pause, so we try to be as ordinary as possible. Depending on where you want to live afterwards, that could make a difference as well. There are surnames which are more appropriate to particular regions of the country."

"Gotcha. Is it all right to talk this over with Dad?"

"By all means. Since you will probably look similar in appearance, you might want to become cousins afterwards, so we've no objection if you wanted to co-ordinate your new identities. You need to tell us what you've decided by the time you leave here, so that we can start getting the paperwork organised and begin to give the new you a good, solid background."

"What about my belongings? Do I have to lose all of those?"

"You won't be wanting your old male clothes, I can assure you. Because in the past we've tended just to abandon everything, the older Z-people don't have as strong an attachment to physical things as most normal people do. We do have a way now, actually. When you leave your father's flat, your personal possessions can get sold on to one of our agents, who will put them in store for the new you to 'buy' back second-hand once you've got established again. What are you so concerned about?"

"I've actually built up quite a decent CD collection, I'd be sorry to see that disappear."

"Oh, I see. Yes, that should be possible, but I do warn you, your musical tastes are likely to change when you do. As will your literary tastes."

"Ugh. You mean I'm suddenly going to start reading trashy romances?"

"What's wrong with trashy romances? I bet you've never even opened the cover of one. You should try a few and see what you think, you might be pleasantly surprised. We have different tastes to normal people, after all."

"If you say so. What happens next, then? I mean, when will I get to know where I'm going, and so on."

"We don't like to make plans for changers too far ahead, because too much can happen before the change actually begins. For example, we might have to move you to a different safe house, or some law will get enacted which means that we'll have to alter the way we handle your paperwork. Don't worry about it, we'll tell you all that you need to know nearer the time."

"Thanks, Frances. I'm looking forward to my new adventure."

*****

"If I'm reading this correctly, Doctor Alice, it means that we would have some limited control over when and how the transitions take place. That would be a tremendous boon, especially for the female-to-male transition."

"I agree, Luke, it does look promising. At the moment, we effectively play Russian Roulette every time we become pregnant. If you have found a way to control that, you'd make a lot of Z-people very happy. How would you suggest we do that?"

"I hadn't thought through the low-level details, but it occurred to me that controlled doses of hormones administered through patches would be the answer. I got the idea after reading an article in a medical journal about Hormone Replacement Therapy for post-menopausal women, and started idly speculating about what happens when we transition. The best part is, people these days wear patches for all kinds of reasons, so no-one's going to question it, especially if our doctors prescribe them for a 'hormonal imbalance', which after all is nothing more or less than the truth." Luke mimed the quoting with his fingers.

"It's a very good idea, and I'll organise one of the teams to produce some detailed studies, and come up with a test plan," Alice agreed. She frowned. "Of course, like most of our experiments, there's no way we can test them except on volunteer Z-people. In this case, whether the test succeeds or fails, it might produce an outcome we don't want, so volunteers would have to be prepared for an unexpected transition. We have so few Z-people here as it is, it might not be so easy to arrange."

"The benefits would be huge, though," said Luke, "if we can get this to work. Being able to have more than one Z-son without changing would mean a lot to a number of the Z-women I know here, and not having to wait twenty-five years before going back would certainly interest a number of Z-men, including my father. I know he'd much rather remain a woman most of the time. I also know that doing it your way is so uncomfortable he wouldn't consider it."

"I must admit, something jumped inside me when you first described this idea. I think that both Frances and I, plus a number of others I could mention, would breathe a sigh of relief if this can be made to work. Let's draw up a plan of action, then."

*****

"Frances! Got a minute?"

"Come in, Luke, give me a second to sort this out... done. What is it?"

"I've just had an email from Stefan."

"Oh, great! So he's figured out how to use the double anonymising proxies we've got set up, then? I'm glad to hear it. I must admit, I quite like to hear news of what's happening in the other group."

"Actually, it seems that it's one of the younger men in the tribe who worked out the details. Yes, I'm getting quite addicted to seeing pictures of my children, and those of the others as well. I'll forward the email to you, I just wanted to tell you something strange he found out."

"Go on."

"He got wind of a new tribe of People, a group who live in an area that doesn't overlap that of any of the local groups he knows about. Apparently one of the men in another tribe came across them by accident. This other person said he had a job convincing them he was real, we know all about that, of course. Anyway, it seems they bring all their children up as girls to the age of six and then test them, sounds like they do the cross test on their arms like they did to me. Anyone who ends up with a scar is normal, either male or female. Normal males get to wear boys' clothing from that point on. Everyone else stays in female clothes. It seems they consider them all to be female, except that Z-people go through puberty much later than normals do. Even when they've given birth to their son and changed back, they still are considered to be female, even though they are allowed to father children. What do you think of that?"

"That sounds so odd... but it also sounds practical. If those Z-persons always present as female, it must make dealing with officialdom a lot easier than having to keep faking up new sets of documents."

"Yeah, but what happens when those Z-males start growing facial hair? I know we don't have much, but it's not something you can pass off as female lip fuzz."

"True. Is the detail all in the email? I'll give it a good read through. You might want to pass it on to Research as well. The more information we can gather about customs and practices amongst other groups the better, both for us and for them."

"I have passed it on. There's not a lot more detail, and it's me reporting what Stefan heard from another person who got it from someone else, so don't discount Chinese Whispers. At this rate, we'll be opening an anthropology department next."

"That's a good idea, actually, and one I'll have to think about. While you're here, I understand that you've handed in your notice. Time to move on, then?"

"Yes. Doctor Alice says I have two months before things start to become noticeable, so I gave in my notice at the beginning of the week. I have a place in a guest house all lined up, and I've packed the few belongings I need, and Dad will be handling the rest for me before his time comes."

"I'll talk to you again before you leave. The way we can do things now is much, much better than we could ever have imagined in my day. I'm so glad Z-people won't be subjected to all the pain and heartache we had to go through."

"It's not a total solution though, is it? Z-men after twenty-five years who have a family and any Z-woman who's pregnant still run some risks. I hope the new patches will solve some of the remaining problems."

"Indeed. Do you want to continue working on that when you come back?"

"You'd have me back? Isn't that dangerous?"

"Not especially. A young man leaves a job, and after some searching for a suitable replacement, a young woman becomes his replacement. It happens all the time in industry. No, I don't imagine there will be a problem. Why? Had you thought to do something different?"

"It's habitual thinking, I suppose. Up till recently, all Z-people have had to make radical changes in lifestyle when they transitioned, so I assumed I would have to. Of course, that's no longer strictly necessary. Yes, I'd like to return, if there's a place for me here and work I can do."

"Good, I thought you would. I'll assume that's what you want to do and advise Human Resources accordingly."

"Thank you, Mrs Canning. I'd better get back to work now."

The taxi dropped Luke in front of the guest house, the driver unloading his bags before departing. Luke looked around at his new home for the next few months. The building was large and probably Victorian. To either side were scattered trees, pines that were slightly bent by the wind. Beyond those were a mixture of white flat-roofed buildings in the art deco style and thirties bungalows. Behind him, the other side of the road, a wide grassy area stopped abruptly at the cliff edge. The building was on the highest point of the outcrop, the road descended in both directions to small coastal towns. Luke lifted his bags and shouldered open the impressive front door.

"Mr Renshaw? We've been expecting you. If you'd like to follow me."

With the woman in front, Luke carried his bags through the building and, to his surprise, out the back door. Cars were parked along the whole width of the back of the building. Facing the main block was a separate building which had an open space at ground level, obviously used for parking as well. The woman led him up a covered wooden staircase at the side of the block and opened the door to a long corridor.

"This is called the Annexe, although it used to be the stable block when it was originally built. We put people with your special requirements over here so that you can have some peace and privacy, but there's nothing to stop you using the public rooms in the main building if you want to. Here, this is your room."

Luke followed her into a reasonably-sized bedroom. It was furnished like a typical motel room, but it looked far more homely, with chintzy curtains and some fresh flowers in a vase on the dresser. The window overlooked the parked cars. There were two large built-in wardrobes and Luke raised an eyebrow when he opened them.

"Why so much space? I've only got these two bags."

"Come, now. You don't imagine that the clothes you brought with you will be the ones you'll be wearing in six months time? You'll certainly fill one of these, I can guarantee it."

"Duh." Luke grinned shamefacedly. "You'll have to forgive me, it was a long journey."

"If that's the case, would you like to have a rest and freshen up before I brief you? My name's Annette, by the way. You should speak only to me about your special needs, unless I tell you otherwise. One or two of the other staff know what's going on, but not all do. At least, not the whole story in any detail."

"Yeah, actually, I think I would. I didn't have to come very far, but I had to change a couple of times and there was a lot of standing around, and there were emotional aspects to this trip I didn't expect. I think I'd like to have a shower, and then chill for a while. What time do you serve dinner?"

"Usually we start at seven and serve till nine, unless we know everybody's been fed by then. I think I'll come over about six or quarter past and give you the tour, if that's all right. Do you mind staying in your room till then?"

"Not a problem. See you later then, er, Annette."

Luke spent a few minutes unpacking his bags and putting the contents into the wardrobe and the big chest of drawers which stood against one wall. Then he stripped off and had a good shower before climbing into a clean t-shirt and jeans and collapsing on the bed. He rolled onto his back and gazed unseeingly at the ceiling.

It's started. My home has been taken away, most of my possessions have been taken away. This is my only home for the next six months or so. Soon, my body will be taken away, and finally my name will go too. There's no way for me to stop this short of throwing myself off that cliff out there. He snorted. With my luck, I'd probably survive that as well. With the exception of those I worked with at the Institute, everyone I've ever known, even my school mates, is going to think I'm dead or missing. All my outside friends have gone forever.

The knock on the door awoke him. Groaning, he sat up and called to whoever it was to enter.

"You did need the sleep, then," said Annette, coming in. "I imagine the sea air did that to you. Most of our visitors spend a good deal of time dozing when they first come here, they're not used to having so much oxygen to breathe. Are you ready for me to begin?"

Luke ran his hand through his hair and looked at Annette blearily. "I suppose so."

"Okay then. I don't have a set spiel I go through, because when all's said and done there aren't that many come here to transition, and things are usually different each time. I'll set your mind at rest straight away about myself. I'm a normal woman, but I'm the daughter of a Z-parent, so you should feel quite comfortable discussing anything you need with me. I'm the manager of Redcliffe House, and my father is the owner. I know Mrs Canning, she comes here every so often to stay, after all, Z-people need holidays as well as normal people."

Annette sat on the chair in front of the dresser, turning it so that she faced Luke.

"Firstly, the Annexe is your refuge while you're staying here. When we don't have need to provide special services, we let it out the same as the other guest rooms, but now you're here, the only people you are likely to see up here are other Z-people and myself, plus the two staff who clean the rooms up here. Very occasionally you might get another Z-person come to stay, but mostly you'll be on your own. Try to remember, though, that it is part of the guest house, and try not to treat it as if it was your own flat. You've been in the bathroom?"

Luke nodded.

"Shower, toilet, washbasin and bidet. If you want a bath, there's a separate bathroom down the corridor with a large tub to wallow in. In fact, let's go and have a look."

She got up and Luke followed her out of the room. His was the first room along the corridor. As they walked along she showed him a small lounge, the bathroom, a small guest bedroom, a kitchen and finally another larger bedroom like his own.

"The guest bedroom is, like the name says, if you have a guest to stay, like your parent, for example."

"My Dad? He did say he'd come and visit if he got time. Of course, he's going to be changing soon as well. Do you know if he'll come here?"

"If he is, they haven't told me about it. Was he your mother?"

"Yes, although of course I've only ever known him as a father."

"He'll be a few months behind you, then. It's possible your stays could overlap, if he's sent here."

"I'd like that. We've decided to become cousins afterwards. It's possible that seeing him change may help me to adjust to the different relationship we'll have, at least that's what Doctor Alice says."

They reached the end of the corridor. Facing them was another door with an "Emergency Exit" sign over it.

"This is, of course, for emergencies," Annette explained. "But you can also use it for making a discreet entrance or exit without being seen from the main building. Outside is a covered staircase which leads to the access road behind all the properties on this side of the road. If you put a code into the keypad it will silence the alarm which normally goes off when the door is opened. At the bottom of the stair is a similar door and keypad for when you come back. The code is three-nine-oh-five-hash. Can you remember that?"

"Three-nine-oh-five-hash. I think so."

On the way back they entered the small kitchen.

"This might become important later on during your change. It's quite common, although not guaranteed, that your appetite might go through the roof as your body remodels itself. If you were to stuff yourself during meals in the main building, the other guests might ask questions, so we decided that this might be a better way. There's a fridge and freezer under the counter there, and we'll keep them topped up if you decide to do a midnight raid." She looked at Luke. "Don't throw your packaging away, leave it on the counter and the staff will make sure that what you've eaten gets replaced."

"Will I really eat that much?" Luke asked.

"It varies, so I'm told. You're a first-timer, so I don't think you've got a lot to worry about. I will ask you to have regular meals like the rest of the guests, that way you'll just appear to be a normal visitor to the area like them. If you feel hungry in between, you can come and make yourself something up here. If there's something particular you'd like, like pizza or curry, for example, just ask and we'll see what we can do."

They walked back to Luke's bedroom and reseated themselves.

"What else do I need to tell you? Oh, don't get your hair cut again, will you. If you let it grow out, it'll be long enough to style properly by the time you've completed your transition. Now, while you're here, we usually advise people to visit only one of the two local towns depending what gender they currently are. In other words, go one way when you're a man, and the other when you become a woman."

She smiled. "This is partly practical. Anmouth has the better pubs for men and Redcliffe has the better shopping for young women. The idea is that you keep your personae separate, so that people don't draw too many conclusions. For more serious shopping, such as you are going to need to get yourself up and running, Angela, Patricia or myself will take you by car to one of the nearby large towns where we can do strange things and no-one will mind too much. Once you've adjusted, you can probably manage your own local shopping with a little assistance from one of us three."

"I'm not sure about this shopping thing, but Dad says it'll be relatively painless. What happens about the transition itself?"

"Still shaving?" Annette asked with a smile.

"No, haven't done for a year or so now. Didn't need to do much before anyway."

"A characteristic of Z-people. The fact that your facial hair has stopped indicates that your change has already started. The next thing you will notice is that your chest becomes tender, yes, that happens to all women at puberty, and you'll want to eat and sleep a great deal. You'll probably spend a fair bit of time up here not doing very much once that starts happening. Your face will slowly change shape, and your skin will soften. Certain parts of your bony structure will soften and move about, for example there will be changes to your pelvis. I'm told the structural changes only happen on the male-to-female transition, and usually only the first time. Your voice will raise in pitch a little, and your small adam's apple will go."

"I learned about most of this while I was working at the Institute. What I meant was, what happens to me here."

"Of course. Now, the idea is that you stay as a male until your breasts develop sufficiently that it starts to get difficult to hide them, at which point Luke Renshaw's job is done, and he checks out of the guest house. From that point on you get treated as a female, and very soon after that you will in fact be a female. Our only task from that point on will be to educate you in order that you can comfortably pass as if you had been female from birth. I will warn you that that part is the most difficult. We do find sometimes that the habits of youth are the most difficult to break."

"I'm aware that I've got a lot to learn, and that some of it will be quite difficult to take in. After all, despite knowing what's going to happen to me, I've had very little to do with the women's half of the world. I'm quite looking forward to it."

"You have a good attitude, I'm glad to hear. We have had one or two difficult cases in the past who had trouble adjusting. Got there in the end, mind, but caused a few scenes in the guest house while it was happening." Annette stood. "Now, if you'll come with me, I'll show you around the rest of the main building so that you can see where everything is, and then I think it will be time for dinner. Coming?"

*****

Luke settled in and developed a routine to pass the time until things started to happen. The slab of rock which gave Redcliffe Bay it's name was tilted, falling gently away to the very small resort of Redcliffe on one side, and much more steeply on the other to the tiny fishing port of Anmouth, where a small river cut through the sandstone to reach the sea.

Each morning after breakfast Luke would walk briskly down the road towards Redcliffe, turning towards the sea before the small town began and following a staircase down the cliff face to the beach. Once there, he would jog along the beach the five miles to Anmouth, ending his exercise at a cafe by the harbour where he would read a morning paper over elevenses. After that he would either walk further along the beach the other side of Anmouth, explore the small port, or sit on a bench at the harbour reading a locally-bought paperback.

Following lunch in one of the pubs, restaurants or cafes in the port he would climb back up the steep side of the hill to Redcliffe House, avoiding the switchback road and instead taking the coast path which led straight up the broken rock face. By the time he reached the guest house, perched at the highest point of the cliff, he was usually tired enough to want an afternoon nap before doing anything else.

At around four in the afternoon, one of the three women would come over and give him some instruction in feminine ways. Because his bodily dimensions could change unpredictably, it was not practical to provide him with women's clothing yet which he could keep, but a store room supplied items he could borrow for practice purposes, mostly left behind by previous transitionees.

Over the next month Luke learned the names and care of many items of clothing and had practice wearing various kinds of outfit, breast forms substituting for the as-yet absent body parts. Several pairs of heeled shoes gave him experience of walking as a woman would, although he was warned that as his hips changed his gait would also alter.

Instruction in make-up was also given, and he was tested to make sure that he understood what to do and under what circumstances he might do it. At the end of these sessions he had to turn back into Luke and his tutor made sure that he scrubbed everything from his face and body before he presented himself for the evening meal.

In the evening Luke watched TV in the resident's lounge or read a book from the guest house's library. Occasionally he joined in card games with other guests, usually whist or bridge. Spending time travelling around Europe had made Luke comfortable with most card games, so he did not disgrace himself on these occasions.

*****

"I've noticed that laptop in your room," Annette said quietly to Luke one morning after breakfast. "That's not going to be a security risk, is it?"

"No, it's all right, Annette. It was bought specially for this job, and it's never going to be connected to the Internet. At least, not while I've got it, it isn't. It's a project someone at the Institute thought would be a good idea. Would you like to come and see what I'm doing?"

"I'll sort out the breakfast things with the girls and I'll follow you over in a few minutes, if that's all right."

When Annette entered the room Luke had the laptop up and running, perched on the top of the chest of drawers. A webcam was clipped to the slightly opened front drawer, and a trackball dangled on a long wire.

"I've been meaning to ask you about this, actually. I'll show you what I've got so far," said Luke.

He opened an album file, and there were shots of a naked Luke, together with close-up shots of parts of his body.

"I bought the laptop in a high street shop with cash the week before I came here, and it's only got the standard software on it," he explained. "The whole disk is encrypted, and the photos are encrypted on top of that. The idea is, to take a set of photos every day of the same parts of my body so they have a complete record of my transition, and they can see what happens when. Of course, every Z-person over the age of twenty-five knows what happens when, but up till now there's been no record of it. Since nobody transitions while at the Institute, it's been difficult arranging that. I wondered whether modern technology might help us, and this is a trial run using off-the-shelf parts."

"You don't mind people seeing your body afterwards?"

"I don't mind now. Actually, I suppose I might object later, when I'm female. Never thought about that."

"What happens if it gets stolen? It's unlikely to happen here, but you never know."

"Then they get a brick. They won't be able to get past the encryption easily. There's a very small possibility that the wrong authorities could get hold of it, in which case they could use serious computing power to break the encryption, but it won't give them much except me personally, and the Institute agreed that the risk of that was small enough to be acceptable."

"So what's the problem?"

"I want to take photos of myself in exactly the same place each time. To do that, I need marks where to stand and to sit and to lie, and I don't want to mark the carpet or the furniture."

"Ah, I see. Okay, let me think about that. Apart from that, how are you feeling? Notice anything yet?"

"Yes. My chest is definitely getting sensitive, although there's no obvious sign of anything happening yet. It's beginning to irritate when I jog along the beach."

Annette nodded. "I think it's time to make some slight adjustments to what you wear in the morning. I don't think it would be a good idea for you to start wearing sports bras, people would notice the straps through your tops. We've got some very close-fitting t-shirts with Lycra which should do the trick, stop your tops rubbing your breasts. You'd wear them underneath what you normally wear. The measurements we do every day indicate that your hips are beginning to swell, although not much so far. Are your tracksuit bottoms getting tight?"

"Why, yes, they have been feeling a bit snug lately, although I can't see any visible difference in myself yet."

"We'll have a look in the store-cupboard to see if there are more suitable tracksuit tops and bottoms for you as well." Luke looked alarmed. "Don't worry, nothing too girly just yet. A lot of the leisurewear we have is fairly unisex, so you shouldn't raise comment wearing them."

*****

Once the main transition began, Luke was unprepared for the speed at which things happened. His testicles disappeared within a fortnight and his scrotum shrank to become two ridges behind his penis, which at this stage remained much as he remembered it. For a while, his breasts developed slowly, his nipples and aureole enlarging first before beginning to raise themselves on small itchy mounds. His waist had always been slim, but he began to be aware of his hip bones poking out below and touching his arms as he walked. His back ached as his lower spine adjusted itself to accommodate the shifting angle of his pelvis.

He could not manage to jog every day now, but contented himself with walking his normal route, his chest bound to prevent any irritation under the loose top. His skin, which had always been the envy of female acquaintances, now started to soften and appeared to glow even more. He started to eat extra meals mid-afternoon and late evening, preferring to sleep much of the time that he wasn't actually outside the guest house.

His photo problem was solved when Patricia turned up one morning with a rolled-up mat, which she opened out at the foot of his bed, and a reel of wide tape.

"Leave it this way up, and just use it as normal. When you want to do your photographs, turn it over, and mark where you want to stand or sit with the tape. When you've finished, leave the tape there and just turn the mat back. No-one's going to know it's there. I'll sort out the evidence once you've left us."

"Thanks, Pat. That'll work out just right. And I can use the mat to do some of my exercises, as well."

"Yes, well, you be careful while your bones are doing their thing. We don't want any embarrassing breakages to have to explain to Accident and Emergency."

"I haven't forgotten what you told me, Pat. I also know I do have to keep loading the bones in order for them to rebuild themselves properly. I'm only doing some of the simpler yoga forms you taught me, anyway."

"Good. I remember when I transitioned, I was much too tired to do any exercise a lot of the time. I'm glad to see you're made of sterner stuff than I was. Mind you, when I changed I was stuck in a tiny flat in a run-down area of a big city, too frightened to go out unless I absolutely had to. There wasn't a lot of incentive to do exercise. I'm glad these new arrangements have made the whole process so much easier."

"You and me both. At least I can walk along the beach here. The sun and the fresh air are doing wonders for me, I think."

*****

Luke considered his face carefully in the bathroom mirror. He didn't think he looked any different, although he knew that his features must have started softening. His lower jaw had started aching dully as some minor repositioning of his teeth took place, and there was something different about the shape of his eyes, although he couldn't work out what. The face that looked back at him was still, to his mind, that of Luke Renshaw. And yet...

"Miss? Your bacon sandwiches."

The comment as he sat in the Anmouth cafe that morning had taken him by surprise. Instead of his normal coffee and a muffin he had been hungrier than usual and had decided to get a mug of tea and a plate of bacon sandwiches. When the waitress, who he hadn't seen before, had brought them to his table she had drawn a conclusion Luke hadn't expected.

He had been dressed in his usual light grey tracksuit top and trousers, with his now-long hair pushed up under his baseball cap. Except that it had been warm in the cafe and he had taken the cap off. His eyes had flicked involuntarily to his chest before turning to the waitress's face. He remembered he had smiled at her and said thanks. After that, he had avoided eye contact with anyone else in the cafe as he ate his snack.

Afterwards he had gone for a walk along the beach to keep away from other people, feeling highly self-conscious the whole time. His chest still looked reasonably flat to his own eyes, but he wondered if other people's perception of him was coloured by what the rest of his figure suggested. In the end he had abandoned his routine, struggled up the coast path and back to the guest house, and made himself lunch from the contents of the fridge.

"Miss? Your bacon sandwiches."

He stood back from the mirror and inspected his whole body. His hips were still narrower, just, than his shoulders, and he didn't think his gait had changed that much. His tracksuit, which he still wore, was suitably androgynous. Perhaps that was the problem, his clothes were not obviously and categorically masculine. Luke turned to look at his profile, and recognised reluctantly that a turning point had been reached.

As a young man, he had been looking forward to the new experiences that the next part of his life would bring, but part of him unexpectedly mourned for the passing of the old. He understood, intellectually, that he would still have the memories of his youth, would still savour his trip round Europe and his time amongst the People, but from now on a different person would be reliving the memories. A tear escaped from each eye and ran down his cheek.

"Miss? Your bacon sandwiches."

There was a knock at his bedroom door. Luke managed to compose himself, although his insides churned in a way he'd never experienced before.

"Come in!"

Annette entered, closing the door behind her. She took one look at the expression on Luke's face and came quickly to him, enfolding him in her embrace.

"What happened?" she asked softly. "I noticed you came back early. What's wrong?"

"I got mistaken for a girl in the cafe I usually go to," Luke said in a barely-audible voice. He looked at Annette. "It's over, isn't it? Luke Renshaw has left the building."

She looked at his face. "Well, you don't look that much different, not yet. I can't deny, though, that you're not as obviously male-looking as you were when you came to us. There are lots of normals who can get mistaken for the other sort from time to time, just chalk it down to experience."

"It doesn't feel that way. I don't know if I'm a man pretending to be a woman, or a woman pretending to be a man any more. What's happening to me? I feel terrible." Fresh tears erupted.

Annette hugged him again and said, "Welcome to the wonderful world of female emotions. You've got a devil's brew of hormones making whoopee inside you, I'm not surprised you're feeling peculiar, I'm more surprised it's taken you so long. Come and sit here, I'll get some tissues."

Luke dried his eyes while Annette sat on the bed facing him.

"I think perhaps it's time we moved you on to the next phase," she said after some consideration. "If you're getting taken for female now, it can only get worse, worse that is for Luke. I take it that's what's happened, you've realised you can't go back?"

Luke nodded numbly. "Luke Renshaw is history, Annette. Perhaps it's time to make him so."

"Well, it's a little earlier than I would have normally suggested, but in this case I think I agree with you. So, tomorrow morning, I'll check you out after breakfast. Don't worry, you don't have to pack or anything, it's just paperwork in this case. I'll book you in again under your new name. What I suggest you do is stay in here for the next three or four days, don't come over to the main building after breakfast tomorrow. If anyone asks, the new girl guest has gone down with a virus. I'll get Patricia and Angela to look after you when they can. If you do need to go out, you can sneak out the back way."

He gave a weak smile. "Thank you, Annette. Is it always going to be like this?"

"No," she reassured him, "once the oestrogen comes properly on tap and the testosterone slackens off you'll settle down and be fine. Do you think I might have a look at your chest while I'm here? I want to see how much your breasts have developed."

He pulled off the tracksuit top and unpeeled the thick elastic tube which had been holding his breasts in check.

"Oh, you're further along than I realised. Yes, I think it's time. What's happening down below, are things developing there as well?"

"Yes. My penis is much smaller, and I've got a complicated arrangement appearing behind which I suppose will be my vagina. Do you want to see?"

"Not now, I'll ask one of the girls to give you a good examination tomorrow. You're a bit fragile to be doing that now. Are you feeling tired?"

"Yes, I am, actually. I think it's just from the walk though."

Annette shook her head. "No, there's more to it than that. For two weeks, you'll sleep and eat and not do much else. And at the end of that," she smiled, "my handsome duckling will be turning into a beautiful swan."

*****

Clare Bennett entered the guest house dining room and waited to be seated. She was dressed in an olive green short-sleeved t-shirt under a thin khaki jacket, with a short straight denim skirt and a pair of white trainers with pink trim. Her mid-length hair was held out of her face by a clip, and she held a shoulder bag awkwardly between her side and one elbow.

"This way, my dear," said Annette as she bustled up, "I've put you by the window. I'm glad you're feeling better now, you can start to enjoy your stay by the seaside."

"Thank you, Mrs -"

"Just call me Annette, dear. Now, what can I get for you?"

Clare ate her carefully chosen breakfast enveloped in a haze of unreality. Annette had placed her in such a way that most of the guests could only see her back or part of her face, which meant that she didn't have to try and meet anyone's gaze. Even so, she became aware that several of the other guests were giving her glances, curious about their new associate.

It was the first time she had been out in public, and the first time she had worn female clothing in public. She had got used to the various things she had tried on previously, but wearing them for public approval was something else. Patricia had given her outfit and make-up clearance before she had descended the stairs, but she knew that there were far sterner critics in the wider world. There was a certain amount of apprehension as she drank her tea and carefully dabbed her lips before leaving.

As she stood and turned, everyone else in the room looked at her. They couldn't help it, it was human nature. She gave a faint smile at them and tried to walk out of the room without falling on her face. The shift in her hips had made her clumsy. She knew it would go in time, Annette had said that the same thing happened to a lot of women during their first pregnancy, but she wasn't pregnant, and if she had been a normal woman her teenage clumsiness would have faded long before now.

She gained the safety of the hall, closed her eyes and gave a big sigh of relief.

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Angela, the third of the three who knew the secret, comforted her quietly. "How do you feel?"

"Wired," replied Clare. "I expected to be able to pull it off smoothly, but it's not that simple, is it?"

"My dear, it's never that simple. Now, do you still think you can manage that walk?"

Clare gave her thin smile. "Yes thank you, Angela. I've been cooped up for too long, I need to stretch my legs."

Angela nodded. "Good. I'll have to help with the breakfasts for a while, so if you want to go and sit in the lounge, I'll come and find you in a few minutes."

They had walked out of the front door, crossed the road and the grass, and turned left onto the coast path, heading for Redcliffe. Although it was cloudy it was still bright, and the breeze that blew was quite warm. The air was clear and they could see for miles in every direction.

"Tell me when you've had enough, won't you," reminded Angela, walking beside her. "Don't forget, we have to climb back up the hill to get back to the house."

"I'm all right at the moment, thanks."

Two young men in their late teens or early twenties passed them from behind, striding strongly through the short grass which comprised the path. They wore backpacks and carried hiking sticks, and were both listening to music players. Clare watched them thoughtfully as they receded into the distance.

This is really strange. I'm not sure how I feel about men yet. They don't repel me as they might once have, but then of course my body is different now. We haven't seen many women yet, I wonder how I'll feel about them. I didn't have a problem once, they attracted me and I attracted them. I married one of them. I wonder what Atiya would think if she could see me now. No, she'd be okay with it, she's one of the People so she understands. But I wonder whether I'd react to her the same way I did then.

"Wondering about the male of the species, then?"

"Eh? Oh, yes, I was. Even though I was one of them two months ago, I find I have mixed feelings now. I don't know what I think."

"I'm told that's a very common feeling at this stage of the process. You wait, suddenly one day it will all become clear."

"It all seems a bit odd now. Did you know I had a wife?"

"Really? I didn't know that, no. Does she know what's going on, or did you have to abandon her?"

"She's -" Clare stopped. She had just been about to explain who Atiya was, and then realised that she might give away information that might be better off kept quiet.

"She's like you, she's a normal daughter of a Z-person," she said instead. "I'm not in contact with her much at the moment."

"Oh. Any children?"

"Yes, a son. But I shouldn't really talk about it, if you don't mind. Can we sit down on that seat for a moment?"

They sat and watched the birds wheel over the sea in front of the cliff.

"How are you getting on with those clothes?" Angela asked. Clare had been clothed entirely out of the store-cupboard, and her outfit had been whatever had fitted.

"They seem to be all right, thanks, although this skirt is a bit loose on the waist."

"It's going to be tricky for a month or so, until your figure stabilises. What about the bra?"

"It's quite tight, actually, but I thought that the chest band was supposed to be?"

"Up to a point. Until your breasts fill out and we can go and get you properly fitted you're going to have to make do with what we have in the cupboard, plus the inserts. Are you getting on with those?"

"They get a bit sticky when the weather is warmer. At least they make me look as though I've a proper figure while I'm waiting."

"It should only be for a couple of months, although I'm told you can continue changing for up to a year afterwards."

"Nobody mentioned that to me."

Angela shrugged. "That's just normal female variation. You get to have all the random small size changes the rest of us have to put up with. Just you wait till your first period!"

"I'm not sure I care for the period part, Angela. I've heard lurid stories."

"You should be fine. Don't forget, it's your body's way of letting you know that your reproductive system is functioning properly. You'll come to expect it as a sign that everything's working as intended. I understand that Z-women don't get the worst excesses of period pains and such, but you'll have to accept that there will be some side effects, such as swollen breasts."

"Oh. Nobody said anything about that, either."

"That's what we are here for, to fill in gaps like that. Normal girls get all of this from their mothers as they grow up. Now, another thing mothers do with daughters is take them shopping. I don't think you're quite ready for that yet, but I know Annette wants to take you to Anchester to get some basics in the next few days. How do you feel about that?"

"I don't know. If I can come out and have a walk up and down like this for a couple of days, I think I'll be ready. Physically, that is. Mentally I won't have a clue, but I accept that. I'm beginning to think I need one or two things, so an outing is inevitable. If it's going to be this bright out here, I want some sunglasses. Tights. Proper shoes, a bag perhaps. I could look at some hats. I don't think Luke's old baseball caps suit me any more, somehow."

Angela smiled. "Looks like the shopping gene has kicked in. I'll organise a discreet outing for you when we get back to the house. Now, do you want to go any further, or shall we go back? We've plenty of time before lunch."

*****

Although Clare bought all that she had been expecting to, the shopping trip turned out to be a terrifying experience. This was mainly because everyone assumed that she had always been what she appeared to be, and therefore knew automatically what to do in any situation. Only some fast talking by Annette and Patricia stopped certain incidents from being very embarrassing.

One of the problems they faced was that both her chaperones were older, and therefore were not up to date with the fashions that a twenty-five year old might be wearing at the moment. This was partly solved by spending some time sitting at a table at a pavement cafe and quietly discussing the outfits of all the passers-by.

Purchases consisted mostly of the accessories which Clare wanted, including hats and three pairs of shoes. Certain loose items of clothing were deemed to be acceptable so she also got two nightdresses, some wrapover tops and skirts and a large chunky cardigan. A whole new palette of cosmetics was also assembled from several different shops so that she could develop some kind of look for herself.

A final visit was to a hairdresser who cut and shaped her hair into something more obviously feminine. Clare found it difficult to deflect the continuous stream of friendly questions and comments the stylist kept sending her way without appearing to be rude. In the end she just pretended tiredness, which wasn't so far from the truth by that time, and the woman left her alone.

On the way home in the car she kept yawning, and removing her new sunglasses to rub her eyes. Three weeks of enforced idleness had sapped her fitness, and she knew that even when she fully recovered it was likely to be different to what it had been before. Her muscles had softened since she had come to the guest house, and only a certain amount of what had once been there could be restored. This was one of the changes she had not allowed for, the fact that her strength would now be much less than Luke's had been.

*****

"Clare dear, you have a visitor."

Annette had knocked on the door while Clare was reading one afternoon. The person she ushered into Clare's room surprised her.

"Dad! Dad? Is that really you?"

She got up and walked towards the newcomer. He certainly looked like her Dad once did, although there were differences. She was uncertain how to handle the situation until he spoke.

"Well, I can see you're not Luke any more. Yes, I'm your father, although not for much longer, as you can see. Do I get a hug?"

He sounded more or less the same, so she went to him and they hugged, but in the way two friends might. They took seats, while Annette stood by the door, smiling.

"But, I thought you weren't going to be changing for another six months or so. How did this happen, then?"

"It's thanks to those patches of yours. As I was due to change anyway, I got asked to test out one of the edge cases and I'm pleased to say it's worked. I'm only about three weeks behind you now, I think. So the Institute sent me out here to join you. Hope you don't mind."

"Mind? It's brilliant! With all due respect to Annette and her team, I think there's nothing like having your parent with you when it happens." Annette nodded agreement. "So you're going to be staying here, then? That's great!"

"I am, but I don't think you're going to see much of me for a week or two." He yawned. "I'm into the eat and sleep phase, and I'm probably going to be spending a lot of time in my room." He yawned again. "I nearly cleaned out the contents of the buffet car on my way down here."

"Who are you at the moment, then? Are you still Daniel Renshaw?"

"I will be for about a week, and then I will become Shelley Madden, as we discussed. I probably won't show my face outside this building while I'm Daniel, though. I'll be heartily glad to get this chest strapping off, its getting very uncomfortable. Annette here says there are things in store I can wear till I get my wardrobe started. How are you getting on? You look quite the perfect young lady."

"We went shopping a couple of days ago, and got most of this stuff. It was hard going, but I'm getting used to it. We were planning to go into Redcliffe tomorrow, I don't suppose you'll be able to come."

Daniel yawned. "I don't think so, although I should try and get some fresh air once or twice. We can arrange that?" he asked Annette.

"Yes, that's no problem. Clare here knows how it all works, she can take you out for a walk when you need it."

"Hmm. Well, if you don't mind, I think I'll go and lie down now. We'll talk again, I'm sure."

*****

It was the first chance Clare had had to have a proper conversation with her parent. They had passed in the Annexe's corridor on occasion, it is true, but there was never time for more than a mumbled reassurance that each other was doing fine before they went their separate ways. Now, a fortnight later, Clare had returned from breakfast accompanied by Patricia to get ready for a trip into Redcliffe and discovered Shelley in the kitchen consuming the best part of a box of cornflakes. At her parent's suggestion, they all adjourned to the small lounge to catch up properly while Shelley was feeling more or less awake.

"You're turning into a gorgeous young lady," Shelley said.

"You're not so bad looking yourself," Clare replied. "Before, I used to look at you and wonder how you could possibly pass as a woman, but it doesn't seem so difficult now."

"It's in the genes, of course," said Shelley with a smile. "Which I have of course passed on to you."

"Ah, thank you, although I hope I don't end up with those dark rings under my eyes. I didn't realise you had panda blood in you."

"Ouch. You really know how to wound - and you didn't learn that from me. No, I'm afraid the change is taking more out of me than it did from you because I'm older this time. Except for the first time, the man-to-woman transition really is a rejuvenation because our bodies get reset to the age we were when we first changed. That's how it goes. If we manage to leave the man-to-woman change long enough, like I did the first time, it can end up being quite seriously debilitating. Don't worry, though, I'll soon get over this."

"The first time? Why, what happened?"

Shelley turned to Patricia. "Is this your first time, or have you been round the block like me?"

"No, this is my first go. I've been a woman for ten years, and loving every minute of it."

Shelley nodded. "I don't think you'll find any Z-person who'd disagree with you on that score! What happened to me? The usual thing, timing and bad luck. I was born in 1900, managed to be in a reserved occupation during the Great War, ended up as an under-manager in a draper's shop when the first change came. Fortunately there were a lot of people swilling about at that time and I was able to cover my tracks. I met and married a nice young man who worked on the railways, and that's when my problems began, because he could only give me daughters. I had seven."

"Seven! That must have been - wait a minute. I guess at that time you didn't know you'd be changing back if you had a son."

"Exactly. I had a happy family life till the next war started. Bert was killed in an air raid in 1942 so I continued bringing the girls up on my own, like a lot of other women had to. At that time, of course, I didn't know if any of my girls were going to change either. I knew nothing about the mechanics of what happened to Z-people. Like most, I was just blundering about in the dark and hoping nothing would disturb my peace and happiness."

"So, after the war..?"

"Most of the girls got married and left home. I eventually fell in love with a soldier returning from the Korean war, and he gave me a son in 1955. I realised straight away what was happening and had to go. It was very distressing, I'd been a woman for thirty years, had a good solid family life, and didn't want to change. Nevertheless, I engineered an accident and abandoned them."

Shelley paused while her memories of that event came sharply back. She wiped her eyes with her fingers.

"You'll have to excuse me. Becoming female again means the memories hit me harder. I'm sorry, where was I? Oh, yes, that meant that by the time I changed again, in 1980, it had been 55 years since the last male-to-female change, and that one was tough. It's quite difficult pushing a full supermarket trolley to the checkout when you are dog-tired and look like nothing on earth. I'm so glad the Institute has sorted out places like these." Shelley waved her hand round, to indicate the Annexe.

"I must admit," Patricia remarked, "that I wondered why so much emphasis was put on places like these. My own parents stood by me and supported me when I changed, so it's hard for me to realise just how difficult things must have been beforehand. I'm amazed you found the strength from somewhere."

"It wasn't easy, no. I've talked to some of the others and they have similar horror stories. I earnestly hope we never, ever, have to go back to that again. So, to briefly conclude my story, I met a smooth talker who conned me into having sex with him before vanishing." Shelley looked at Clare. "He was your real father, Clare. I never did manage to trace him, but the fact that he vanished left just you and me, and it made the process of relocating that much easier, and I could become your father with a little bit of generous hand-waving at the authorities. The down side was that I had barely four years as a woman, and I felt distinctly cheated."

Clare did sums in her head. "That means, you've actually been a man longer than you've been a woman. Doesn't sound fair to me."

Shelley shrugged. "Some prefer being men, others - like me - prefer the women's side. A few don't mind which they are. I do know that the new patch therapy is going to make a big difference, as will use of modern contraceptives. Before the Pill came in, it was basically a lottery once you became a woman. I got unlucky both times, once I got stuck as a woman and couldn't change back for ages, the second time I had barely changed before I got changed back. Having control over that is going to be a godsend."

"It's only partial control so far."

"I know, and the crucial point is that only the male-to-female transition gives you rejuvenation, so you have to become male at some point in the cycle. Still, it's a start."

"It's quite funny looking at you, sitting here. You've still got some of Daniel's characteristics in your face, but it's not a male face any longer. Has your nose shrunk, or am I imagining that?"

"It's the same length it always was, but I believe some of the soft tissue moves around a bit to soften the outline. Have you looked at yourself lately? Your own nose looks quite cute now, and your lips are just meant to have lipstick on them."

"I haven't noticed, but then I look at my face many times a day, so it always looks the same to me. I have noticed that my hands look much more dainty."

"You've got a good figure, too, I've watched you sashaying down the corridor. Are you beating off men yet?"

Clare blushed. "No, D-, ah, Shelley. I'm not sure I have the social skills yet for that sort of thing. That's why I'm still going places with Patricia, Angela or Annette. Presumably, since you've 'been around the block', as you say, you won't have that problem."

"Ah, but I may. You see, it's been twenty-five years since I was last a woman, and a lot has changed in that time. Aside from the fashions, which I can't wait to try, a lot of customs and practices have evolved since then and it's going to take a while to fit in again. Still, I'll be happy to help bring you up to speed once my metabolism has settled down. Doubtless the staff here will assist?" She raised an eyebrow at Patricia.

"That's what we're here for," she replied. "In return, I hope that you'll pass on some of your own learned wisdom."

Shelley gave a short laugh. "Wisdom! History lessons, more like. You don't want to hear me boring you with 'In my day' all the time." She grew more serious. "I'm glad we don't have to squeeze ourselves into corsets and cone bras any more, but I do miss the New Look dresses. Hah, you've started me off now, I sound like someone in a home for the elderly. Were you two supposed to be going out? I don't want to delay you."

"We were, but we don't mind talking," said Clare. "Can I get you to come out for a walk this afternoon? Apart from the eyes, you're looking much better today."

Shelley nodded. "I'd like that. Just hammer on my door when you're ready."

*****

The three women sat at a table on the pavement in front of a cafe in the main shopping street of Redcliffe, coffees and light snacks in front of them. The fourth chair at their table was piled high with carrier bags, some emblazoned with designer names. The sun shone brightly down, shielded from them by the awning above, but they still wore their designer sunglasses on their carefully made up faces, framed by artfully arranged hair styles.

"A good morning's plunder," commented Shelley. "Even though this town is quite small, it has some excellent local shops."

"We have a few posh folks living nearby, mostly in the countryside," explained Annette. "It's made some of the shops quite expensive for the likes of us, though."

"It's all right for you," said Clare to Shelley, "you're still bending the Institute's plastic."

"Actually, it's my money I'm spending now. The Institute is just funding the meals and accommodation for us." Shelley watched as Clare's attention became distracted by two young men walking past on the other side of the street. "Discovered boys now, have we?"

"Uh, what? Oh, just curious. I was thinking, I was one of them not so long ago. I don't have any gay tendencies, leastways I didn't have, and the thought of snogging a boy would have made me throw up, if not get violent. Now, though, I'm wondering what it's going to feel like."

Shelley looked at Clare with interest. "So you think you might get interested in a man sometime?"

"Well, why not? It's not as if I've got the wrong plumbing now. Besides, I've seen how the other women have fun in the evenings down here, and I think I want to have some of that as well. If one thing leads to another, what's wrong with that?"

"I agree. But, you have to be really really careful to start with. If you were to get pregnant now, you'd turn back into Luke and you'd have had no experience of womanhood." Shelley thought. "Actually, if the gap was that short, you probably could go back to being Luke, but I don't think you want that, do you?"

"Absolutely not. This is much too enjoyable an experience to waste. Anyway, what about... precautions?"

"You know as well as I do that the Institute recommends that you don't start taking contraceptives until a year after your first period. And are you going to trust a boy and his condom, knowing what might happen?"

Clare's face fell. "No. You're right, as usual. But we can still have some fun, can't we?"

"There's plenty of fun to be had without getting into that kind of trouble," commented Annette. "It's just a shame you've had to start at the age you did. A lot of the fun girls have is when they're growing up."

"Yes, that's the one thing that makes us different from you," said Shelley. "It's both a disappointment and a blessing. A disappointment because, as you say, we miss all the good times a daughter gets with her mother and father. A blessing because we avoid all the mistakes and embarrassments young girls can have while growing up."

Clare reached out and put her perfectly-manicured hand over Shelley's. "I had good times growing up with my father. Thinking about it, my mother was there too, wasn't she?"

No-one could see the glint of a tear in Shelley's eye behind her glasses as she said, "Yes, dear, yes she was. She could never tell you how much she loved you, though. And she was frightened for the future, before the Institute found us."

"I remember the fear in my own father's eyes," said Annette. "We still have to be careful, but things are so much better now."

They each took sips of coffee, busy with their own thoughts.

"Have you two decided what you're going to do when you leave us?" Annette asked, munching a biscuit.

"The Institute still has a job waiting for me," replied Clare. "I'll have to see if I still want to do it, or if there's something else I might do. I've got about another month here, right?"

"Yes, we prefer you to stay until your second period, just to make sure everything's functioning correctly."

"I hope the second period is better than the first was," muttered Clare.

"I'm sorry about that," Annette responded. "You took us somewhat by surprise. Now we all know what's going on, you should find that you recognise what's happening and prepare yourself. Tampon and a pad in your bag?" Clare nodded. "Good. You never know when you might need them." She turned to the other woman. "What about you, Shelley? Are you going to live with your cousin?"

"I could do, I suppose, although I quite like it here by the seaside, actually. I wondered if I could get a job locally, perhaps. What's the employment situation like around here?"

"You could come and work for us if you like," replied Annette. "Another Z-person on the staff would reduce pressure on Patricia and Angela." She smiled. "The hours are appalling, the work's hard, the food's terrible and the manager is a slave-driver, but I think I might be able to talk her into giving you a try. What do you think?"

"Sounds good to me. Let me think about it will you? I'll have to see if someone else has need of me first, but I appreciate the offer."

*****

Annette banged open the door to the lounge in the Annexe and stood there breathless, the fear plain on her face. The two women, who were reading magazines after lunch before going out, looked up at her with alarm.

"We have trouble. There's a foreign man in reception, he's asking for the Renshaw sisters."

Both Clare and Shelley stood immediately, feeling fear inside. Had they been compromised somehow?

"Wait a minute," said Clare. "You said a foreign man?" Annette nodded. "Did he give a name?"

"Oh. Yes," said Annette, flustered. She looked at a small scrap of paper in her hand. "Costas Anistonis."

Clare and Shelley looked at each other and simultaneously said, "Stefan!"

Shelley breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed. "It's all right, Annette, he's one of us. The Institute must have told him where to find us."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, he's an old friend."

Clare immediately made for the door.

"Wait!" called Shelley. "Perhaps it would be better if he came over here. Then we can talk to him freely."

"You're right," said Clare, stopping in her tracks. "Bring him over, Annette. He's really safe with us. He's got more reason to be concerned over privacy than we have."

The two women waited with mounting anticipation while the mystified Annette fetched Stefan from the main building. When he entered the lounge they hesitated briefly before throwing themselves on him, to his surprise and consternation.

"Stefan! This is most unexpected," said Clare. "Are you staying long?"

"Glad you could come," said Shelley. "As you can see, we're happy to see you."

Stefan eased himself away from the women and examined them from head to toe.

"I see two beautiful women," he said. "I don't think we've met before, yet you embrace me as though you have. Are you sisters?"

"No, we're cousins," replied Clare. "I'm Clare Bennett. That's Clare with an L," she clarified.

Shelley caught on quick. "And I'm Shelley Madden," she added. "That's Madden with two D's."

Stefan tried to think it through, but looked puzzled. While his English was now quite good the spelling detail eluded him for the moment. Clare switched to Harse.

"Of course, this is one way you can tell us apart. How is my beautiful sister Atiya and her son?"

Stefan gave a broad smile. "Both mother and child are doing well. As are Niyaan and my son."

"Oh, I'm so pleased for you!" said Clare. "Is Niyaan..?"

"Niyaan is no more. He is Vladek now. Atiya cares for my son as his mother, while Vladek becomes father. Both are content with the arrangement. Little Luka now has Stilyan for a brother."

"Come and sit down! Sit down, do," said Shelley. Annette, who was hovering in the doorway worried about their unexpected visitor, came in and stood on the threshold. "You too, Annette."

"This man we know as Stefan," Clare explained to Annette, "despite the name on his passport. He is a Z-person from Europe, from a different group. Have you heard of the 'Daughters of Time'?"

When Annette nodded, wide-eyed, Clare continued, "I got shot while on a backpacking trip and he was amongst the group that helped me. He is a 'Daughter of Time'. I stayed with them for a year, and when I returned to this country Stefan came with me, to try and make some links between our groups. We were broadly successful. I probably shouldn't say too much more than that."

"There are more of us?" she asked. "The stories are true?"

"They are, indeed there are more, and we learn of more all the time."

"I can't get over how beautiful you both have become," said Stefan. "Even when I know what happens, and when I have seen the change with my own eyes, I still find it astonishing. You could almost be sisters."

"We decided to become cousins," Shelley said. "We thought that it would cause less problems later on."

"So, you are Clare, and you are..?"

"Shelley."

Annette stood. "I can see you three have a lot to talk about. Shall I go and make a pot of tea?"

"Thank you, Annette."

*****

Stefan had been persuaded to stay, and his bags had been brought up and put in the guest bedroom. After they had all refreshed themselves and changed, they marched out of the front gate, Clare and Shelley each with an arm linked through one of Stefan's.

"We can't wait to show you around -"

"- and we'll have such a good time -"

"- and you'll love the sea-side -"

- and we've such a lot to talk about!"

Stefan smiled as they walked down the hill towards Redcliffe.

"The sun is shining and I have two beautiful ladies escorting me," he said. "Who could ask for anything more?"

"Well, I know a shop where you can get excellent bacon sandwiches," said Clare.