Genomorph

Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

Susan took one last look around the office to make sure she had not missed anything. Of course there was very little that she was actually allowed to take. All of the research was classified.

But they could not change what she knew. She had seen wonders, and she knew that incredible, miraculous things were possible. They could force her off the project; she was not even really sorry to go, but they could not take away what she had seen. And knowing a thing was possible was the first step to making it happen.

Besides in the private sector she could make ten times what she had made on the project.

Still, she had no illusions as to why she had been fired. They wanted her out there as bait for Brandi. Susan knew that Brandi would never try to contact her, though; no matter how much either of them wanted it.

When she finally reached the house she was renting outside of Las Vegas, she broke down and began crying. It was tearing her up inside to think that Brandi was out there alone. She had only been gone two days and already it seemed like years.

After she cried herself out, she got out of the car and started walking towards her front door. As she did, a black sedan pulled up in front of the house. Susan experienced a moment bordering on panic, until the door opened and Admiral Hammerstein stepped out.

“Susan there’s not much time,” Hammerstein said seriously. “We managed to lure your shadows away but they will return shortly. I need you to come with me and hold your questions until we reach our destination.”

Susan nodded, grabbed her briefcase and got into the sedan.

“How did you lure them away?” Susan asked as the car sped off.

Hammerstein smiled, “We hired a stripper from Vegas. She had the proper, ah, dimensions and hair and at a distance could easily be mistaken for Brandi, especially when she was seen approaching your home.”

“A stripper?” Susan laughed. “I think Brandi would find that amusing. She once threatened to run away and get a job like that.”

The car took her to a small air strip where a private jet waited. Admiral Hammerstein escorted her to the plane but did not board with her.

“I wish I could tell you more Susan, but this is necessary,” The Admiral told her. “The person you are going to meet is someone that I trust implicitly. I don’t ask you to do so just on my say and she won’t expect you to either. But I do ask that you hear what she has to say and give her a chance.”

“All right Mike, I’ll do that.”

*****

“You shore you wanna do this Brandi?” Arnie asked, his face a mask of sadness. They were standing in the doorway to the hotel room Brandi would be staying in for the next few nights. “LA is a big place and, well, you could get lost real easy.”

“That’s kinda what I’m hoping for,” Brandi smiled. Arnie had picked up another load and planned on working his way back east to Alabama, then would take some time off. “I’ll be fine Arnie; you know I can take care of myself.”

“I know nobody’s gonna rough ya up or nuthin’, but I’ll still worry ‘bout you,” Arnie said. “This can be a tough town for someone all alone.”

“That’s why I’m so lucky I met you first Arnie,” Brandi told him. “You give me hope. I know for certain now that I can find people to trust. I know there are good people in the world.”

“Way I see it you gave me somthin’ a long time ago … you gave me my life,” Arnie said. “I took ever chance I could since then tryin’ ta help folks out. I ain’t done much ….”

“Now who’s selling themselves short?” Brandi asked. “Keep doing what you do…touch people’s lives. And if you don’t marry that girl in Birmingham I’ll hunt you down and kick your ass…and you know I can do it!”

“I’m gonna pop the question as soon as I get back,” Arnie promised.

“First thing?” Brandi giggled.

“Well, maybe the second thing,” Arnie said blushing.

“Would it be ok if I gave you a goodbye kiss, Arnie?” Brandi asked.

“Darlin’, I would be honored.”

She gave Arnie a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, and he lifted her off the ground and held her for a long time. Brandi stayed outside watching until the rig was out of sight. She would miss the big trucker a lot.

Inside the hotel room she lit a cigarette and took stock of her life. Her entire worldly possessions were three pairs of black BDU pants, three white t-shirts, a pair of combat boots, her underwear and a cell phone, which she had just bought. Plus the clothes she had bought for her night out on the town the last time she was in LA, minus the torn crop top which she had discarded. The only tie to her previous life as Brandon was the box of medals, the framed Medal of Honor citation, and the Annapolis class ring which she had taken to wearing around her neck on a chain. She had the cash Susan had provided, plus the money in the bank, which would keep her afloat for a while, but not indefinitely. She needed to decide what she was going to do now.

She had options. The identity Ryan had constructed for her included all the background she would need to get into college. The academic records were really just a mirror of Brandon’s, which had gotten him into the Naval Academy, so they should be good enough for any college she chose to attend.

The idea of college appealed to her. Brandon had continued his education after the academy, earning a Master’s in Political Science and History along the way. But what most appealed to her about going back to college was the chance to interact with others in what was now her age group. The problem was that she could be tracked down at any time. Then she would have to run or fight, depending on the options available. Either way, making any long term plans seemed pointless for now. So it looked like she would need to find some kind of low key job.

Ultimately, her future course would be dictated by her ‘special’ abilities. They were already beginning to define who she was, and she knew that she would never be content in a normal career. A need to use her talents was part of her programming, she suspected. Despite everything she had felt a rush of exhilaration during the hijacking, just as Brandon had always felt on a mission.

So the government would likely get their asset, but as she told Susan, it would be on her terms and only when she was ready.

The first task was to find a place to live. She could not continue living out of a hotel. Then she would need to expand her wardrobe and that meant clothes appropriate to her gender. She needed to learn how to be a girl.

She looked at her hand for a long time, making the nails grow and shrink. Every time they grew beyond an inch in length the tips became pointed and razor sharp again, even though she did not try to make them that way. The only explanation was that it was part of the Genomorph program, turning them into weapons. She had very nearly ripped Chuck’s throat out with them, and though killing him would have caused her little concern, doing it like that would have disturbed her. It was not just the means by which she had nearly done it, but the fact that she had been almost blind with rage. She swore she would never allow herself to lose control again.

Brandi crushed out her cigarette in the ashtray on the night stand, and then took a pen and notebook from her duffel that she had purchased at the same time she bought her cell phone. She had decided she would start keeping a diary, and knew exactly how she was going to go about it.

Dear Mom,

I hope you don’t mind me calling you that. I’m going to use this diary to keep a record of my thoughts, and it makes me feel better to do it like I am writing a letter to you. One day I hope I can show this to you.

I’ve thought a lot about you these last few days. I really do see you as my mother, and sometimes that seems a little odd. I just know that when I woke up in this body for the first time and saw you there I felt safe, protected. You looked so worried and tired and yet in your eyes I saw more … I saw love. Maybe it is part of the programming … maybe I was meant to ‘imprint’ on the first person I saw, I don’t know. But I do know that you were the only one at the lab besides Ryan who ever treated me like a person. And like the typical teenager, I threw it back in your face most of the time.

I made a friend already, a truck driver named Arnie. He helped me a lot in these first days and no, there was nothing sexual involved. I’m still dealing with those desires, and am far from comfortable with the idea, but I know it won’t be long before I have to explore this aspect of being a woman. I’m sure you know that I pleasured myself often while at the lab; why else would I disrupt the cameras and microphones? I did’nt mind you guys knowing I was doing it – I just didn’t want you watching. Thanks for not embarrassing me by asking about it though.

So I know what an orgasm as a female is like. Let me reword that – I know what an orgasm in this female body is like. I suspect that, like everything else with this body, mine are enhanced. I’m seriously considering buying a vibrator, God knows I’ve seen enough sex shops here in LA that finding one should not be a problem.

Of course you know by now that I can alter my physical appearance to impersonate someone else. I suspect I was not as clever in hiding my experimenting with this as I had thought, since you obviously suspected at least part of my plan to escape. I have to be in contact with a person to imitate them exactly, but I can also make general alterations to my appearance as well. I have tried changing into a male form but that is not possible, I guess there just isn’t anything remotely male in me anymore except my memories. It tires me, and I can only do it for a few hours before I have to return to my true form. Mimicking a person is actually a bit easier than just altering my appearance as I don’t seem to have to concentrate as hard to hold the form.

I’m ready for the next step, to start dressing like a girl. Hell, even when I don’t, I can’t hide this body. And yes, that means makeup too. And yes, I am really starting to regret turning you down all those times you offered to help me. I just wasn’t ready then. I’m not sure I am even now, but I can’t keep running from who I have become.

I’m scared. I know I will need help, so I will try to find friends, people I can come to trust, and that brings me to a decision I have made.

I know that I agreed to maintain the security of the project, but I believe that agreement is void now. What happened to me is far beyond what was supposed to happen, and there will be things about me that will cause questions to arise that I will have a hard time answering. So I am reserving the right to let those I come to trust know about me, if not the full story than at least enough to answer those questions when the need arises. They will need to know so they understand everything, including the possibility that associating with me could place them at risk.

That is my biggest fear. I don’t trust that toad Mercer or the people he represents. I’m not saying I don’t trust the government or the military in general, just a segment of it. I think these people are operating way beyond their mandate. I don’t know what I can do about it though. But I know they won’t hesitate to hurt anyone close to me in order to get at me. Please be careful. If anything happened to you, I don’t think I could take it.

There’s one other thing I want to tell you about. It may sound a little weird, but I want you to know about it.

I was thinking back to my life as Brandon, and I thought about the first man under my command that I lost. He was a young seaman named Aaron Peck, and he died in a firefight on one of those secret ops that were our stock and trade. And when I thought about him, this flood of emotions came to the surface and I cried.

The thing is that what I felt inside was the same as what I felt inside as Brandon. The pain, the grief, the loss…it was all the same. But when I was Brandon, I just did not have the capacity to let it out. No, we had a beer call after the mission and got drunk and talked about what a great guy he was. I went to his wife and told her that he had been killed in a ‘training accident’ and played the strong commander for her as she cried, even as I wanted to weep myself. I saw his two beautiful little girls and I wanted to tell them that their father died a hero, doing something that was important. I wanted to hold them and cry with them too, but I didn’t because I was a man.

So I cried for Aaron and for all the others…thank God there weren’t that many. I felt the same pain and loss but at last I could release some of it. It was refreshing and freeing in a way. I would have never expected to be saying this just a few months ago, but I think I’m going to like being a girl.

Love,

Brandi