From alt.sex.stories.tg Sat Dec 21 00:45:36 1996 Path: nienor.IN-Berlin.DE!forwiss.uni-passau.de!suelmann ~~Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.tg ~~Organization: The Testsite ~Lines: 320 Message-ID: 59f3hf$gdh@nienor.in-berlin.de NNTP-Posting-Host: elros.forwiss.uni-passau.de
I didn't write this nor do I know how to contact the author
TG, sf, TS in a future society §§§§§§§
[Copyright (C) 1989 by Barbara Chambers. The author grants permission for this file to be electronically retrieved by individuals for their personal use but specifically excludes granting a license to publicly distribute this material in any medium whatsoever, including electronic, without her written permission. This file is an exclusive feature of FEMINET.]
Appearing in Gender Expressions Magazine, issue 4.
DOUBLE JEOPARDY by Barbara Chambers
Beverly stood silently at the window of her room, looking out over the mottled green and red landscape of Mars. She sighed. It was raining again, the second time this week. When it rained on Mars, it meant only one thing - - that the underground fusion heaters at nearby Valle Fecundum were on high, driving countless thousands of tons of underground water to the surface, condensing as steam, and pouring rain on the otherwise dry terrain for hundreds of miles around. Mars wasn't even the "Red Planet" anymore - from space it looked grey-spotted on pink, due to the greenish-grey moss. That was another of the terraforming features of human life here, moss covering the sand and rock, eagerly lapping up the water, forming carbohydrate waste as food for other plants. And releasing oxygen in copious amounts into the still thin atmosphere. She thought back to when she had been still employed. She had worked in some of those underground installations as a member of one of the "geyser crews," but that was all over now. Not too many miles away, it would be snowing, she knew.
She glanced up the street. The sloping front door of a building slammed open, two women emerging. One was tall, with streaks of red in her brown hair -- she wore a black shiny bodysuit, and was carrying a large knapsack which she threw to the ground, evidently in disgust. The smaller woman was wearing a yellow and black striped outfit which loosely flapped in the breeze, and the rain washed her gaudy makeup in garish streaks down her face. She was laughing, and the other woman was shouting at her. The taller woman crouched, then swung a kick toward the other; immediately both were poised, circling. Suddenly they grappled, hair flying, twisting, until both were on the soggy ground. The taller one scrambled loose and ran up the street, leaving the other sitting there in the rain. She picked up the sack and slowly got up, walking the other way.
"Sex games," Beverly thought. "Stupid, silly sex games." The building was a womens' bar, she knew. A lot of crazy things happened there, the women mixing, dancing, loading up on the potent Marsmilk which was produced locally, picking fights, and sometimes, as now, getting thrown out. "At least I'm in the right part of town." she thought.
Beverly turned around and found a cushion, sitting carefully. She looked thin and overstressed; her fingers trembled slightly, and there were circles under her eyes. She was otherwise quite pretty: tall, 30 years old, her hair a long blonde halo around her pale face. Her one-room apartment was sparsely furnished with a folding bed, a set of drawers built into one wall, a data station with viewscreen on the other wall, and a small kitchen behind her.
"I hope this is over with soon." she thought, "Survival is all that matters now."
"Beverly -- Beverly, are you there?" The woman's voice came from the viewscreen in the corner.
"Jenna?" Beverly asked, startled. She got up from the cushion and seated herself at the data station. On the viewscreen was the image of a tall brunette woman in a uniform.
"God, you look ragged, girl. And things aren't going to get any better anytime soon for you, I'm afraid."
"Whats going on?" Beverly asked hurriedly.
"Well, I'm not sure yet. But I'm afraid you've really blown it. I spoke to the Council of Women this morning -- they don't even want to listen, they're washing their hands of the whole thing. As far as they are concerned, you committed fraud. It looks like the Men are going to feel the same way, though they are likely to react even worse. Frankly, I don't even know which side you have to worry about more."
"Fraud? How can they say that?" Beverly's voice was wavering.
"Well, its like this," Jenna replied, "you used your girlfriend to get in with the Women. The Men of course consider that to be a sort of "acceptable treason" - they will only put up with it on THEIR conditions -- and its all spelled out by the law."
"But I made it very clear that I was a Voluntary, that sex had nothing to do with it..." Beverly said.
"A hundred years ago that might have worked, but not today. There's no place for that in our society now. Your girlfriend talked. She had to anyway, to avoid the same thing. I assume its all true - that you and she weren't ever really a couple?"
"It was a technicality. She agreed to go along with the story, since she was my friend and she knew how miserable I was. And we did get together a couple of times."
"Look -- Beverly -- none of that can really be proven now, and it doesn't really matter either. Ken is in trouble too, I can't imagine how the Men are going to consider that situation... Anyway, the reason I called -- I can't be your counselor anymore. The Women have taken me off your case. There's nothing I can do now."
Beverly sat stunned. "How can they do that?" she asked finally.
"The Women have revoked your citizenship, thats how! They told me to let you know, then get off the case."
"So, where does that leave me?"
"You're in Limbo, sweetie. Nothing like this has ever happened...." Suddenly, the screen blanked, flashing, then showing a large brown desk and empty chair against a blue background. As Beverly watched, a large man with a moustache moved into view and sat in the chair, looking to his right and then his left with a businesslike nod, then placing his arms outstretched on the desk and grasping it as if he planned to pick it up, sitting like an emperor. He raised his eyes and looked through the screen at her.
"Beverly Carlisle?" he rumbled in a deep voice.
Beverly sat back and stiffened. She knew this man.
"Yes" she said slowly.
The hint of a smile came to his face. "Perhaps 'no' would have been a better answer... but more of that later. Sorry to interrupt your private conversation, but this is official business." He released his grip on the desk, and reached for some papers, placing them before him.
"It is 8:47 in the morning, and the Court of Men is convened. Yours truly, Marshall Cummings, presiding. In attendance at remote data stations..." he looked at what must have been a viewscreen out of the line of vision. "Four thousand, two hundred and twenty four citizens of Man, and ...three hundred seventy two citizens of Woman. This court is in session to consider disposition of the Unplaced Person, Beverly Carlisle, recently of the Women. Jurisdiction of this case has been released by the Council of Women, and thus under the law, jurisdiction reverts to the Council of Men."
"A brief outline of this case for the benefit of those attending follows." he said, turning a page. "On day 17 of Month Four of this year, Dwayne Carlisle, a citizen of Man, presented himself for sexual rehabilitation. He admitted having sexual intimacies with a citizen of Woman, and claimed that he wished to avoid penalties for continuing such surreptitious behavior by turning himself in to the authorities for proper medical care. When he was taken into custody in the Men's Medical Annex, he was presented with the legal options available: sexual reorientation, termination, or sexual reassignment. He chose sexual reassignment." Cummings looked up. "I might point out that it has been many years since the first option, sexual reorientation, has been refused by a patient -- the other two options are, of course, legally available, but almost never called upon voluntarily."
He continued, "The patient's consort was not identified, and since one of the pair was in custody, it was not considered important to identify her. In psychiatric therapy, the patient resisted in speaking about any subject except sexual reassignment, so therapy was ceased and the patient was scheduled for extensive surgery. Following surgery, the patient requested and was granted Leave to Transfer Citizenship from this court; jurisdiction then lay with the Court of Women. On day 36 of Month Five, said person was granted Woman citizenship by the Council of Women, changing her name to Beverly Carlisle, and moved to the Women's section, taking up residence there, and there followed..." he turned another page, "a short stay in the Women's Medical Center, where she received a variety of minor cosmetic surgical procedures. She also received some occupational training, since her former position as a Man, Geyser Crew Leader, was unavailable now to her. Several weeks later, following an intense investigation on the part of the Women's Security Force, her former girlfriend was discovered, a Miss Sandra Lawson. Miss Lawson, during sexual reorientation, was able to show that she was acceptably Lesbian, and in a bargaining arrangement to avoid further reorientation, offered to vindicate herself by identifying another lover of Miss Carlisle's, Ken Carroway, a Man, who she claimed was still involved with Miss Carlisle despite her now being a Woman. Surveillance showed this to be the case. Miss Carlisle was placed under house arrest in her apartment pending further investigation by the Women's Security Force, Ken Carroway was taken into custody by the Men, and Sandra Lawson was released."
Cummings looked up at the camera. "This Court is now charged with determining the procedural matters involving the status of Beverly Carlisle, formerly Dwayne Carlisle. First, Miss Carlisle, do you challenge any of the facts I just enumerated?"
Beverly thought a moment. "Its all true."
"Then our course is clear. It is the proposal of this court that you have a second sexual reassignment, undergo sexual reorientation, and be reinstated as a Man. The results of a second sexual reassignment aren't usually as satisfactory as the first, but there is nothing we can do about that."
"I refuse." Beverly said solidly.
"Then the proposal shall be submitted to a vote." Cummings flipped some switches on his desk. Immediately, at the bottom of Beverly's screen, three numbers appeared, all zeroes. "Those of Man in attendance through remote data stations who wish to be part of the jury, please indicate now on your consoles."
As Beverly watched, the number showing on the screen at the far left began to count up. A light was illuminated on her console, and she pressed a button next to it. A moment later, Cummings flipped another switch, and announced, "That is certainly a quorum - we have over six hundred voters. I see that you joined the jury as well, Miss Carlisle - thats good. Now the question: Shall Beverly Carlisle be required to undergo sexual reassignment and reorientation to become once again a citizen of Man? Please indicate your decisions now. You have sixty seconds."
Beverly reached forward and touched a red button on her console. She watched as the numbers changed on the screen. The left hand number, the number of voters who had not cast a vote, was counting down quickly. The middle number, indicating affirmation, was counting up just as quickly. The right number, indicating negation, had stopped changing.
The seconds ticked by. Beverly put her hands on her face and bent forward. "I mustn't cry," she thought.
"Time is up, and voting is completed. Voting in the affirmative, six hundred twenty seven. In the negative, three. By a large majority, the proposal of the court is passed and made law."
"Don't I get to say anything?" Beverly asked.
"Since this is an administrative hearing, dealing only with your health and welfare, you are only permitted to address the facts, which you did already when you confirmed that they were true. However, the court will permit you to speak, and you may make motions on your own behalf, if you wish."
Beverly drew a deep breath. She spoke. "Has it ever occurred to you that the circumstances in this case are unusual?"
"We can't deny that. As I said, its rare that someone chooses sexual reassignment voluntarily."
Beverly continued, "Those three options given to 'sex offenders' are pretty extreme -- reorientation is just a euphemism for machine-aided brainwashing. I admit that people who go through it are often happy and well adjusted afterwards, but they do change a bit in the process, and its not a pleasant alternative. Why is it that someone would usually prefer to have their personality and mind altered with respect to their sexuality, rather than have their physical gender changed? Can you answer that?"
Cummings frowned. "It isn't the function of this court to speculate on personal motives."
"But you do admit its true - almost anyone would prefer to have disturbing sexual thoughts erased than have their body changed to the opposite sex. I believe its because the concept of a person's GENDER is much more deeply rooted in their personality than even their sexuality."
"I don't see your point."
"I felt that I was a woman, totally, in every respect except physically - thats why I did this. It seemed the only way to change my gender in this society without running into obstacles."
"Believe me, Miss Carlisle," Cummings leaned forward, "we have eliminated gender in our society. Your attitude makes no sense at all. For countless millenia, the human race has struggled, fought, and failed - without realizing the terrible burden evolution left on us - that of gender, of sexuality. The first Gay and Lesbian colonies here had caught a glimpse of the truth, but not the whole thing. They were segregated colonies, men only in one and women only in the other. They prospered not due to their enlightened attitude towards human sexuality, but almost accidentally, as a result of their segregation. We survived here, while the Earth wars destroyed that planet, because of one simple truth: males and females are separate races, alien races, sharing a common genetic background. Men and women here on Mars are aliens in respect to this planet, and with respect to each other. Biological drive alone can explain cohabitation of the two races in the past, and once we had control over biological drives, we were no longer subject to the slavery of sex. We could form a perfect society, seamless in its gender, to the extent that gender no longer exists! The term "human being" is not applicable anymore -- now we have the Men and the Women. Two types of intelligent life, differing in their culture, their bodies, their sexuality. The two races are interdependant for their own special skills and for reproduction -- but the peace and prosperity we enjoy today, as the last 30,000 representatives of earth culture, is due to the higher levels of thought, creativity, and spiritual attainment which can be attained in the absence of the former conflict and stress which was a permanent feature of the relationship between the Sexes. We live separately, we mate separately, we dream our separate dreams. This is the secret which eluded Earth, and led ultimately to its downfall. This is why no sexual liasons between the two races is permitted, why it is such a perversion. Any mating instinct of that sort is a throwback to the past when our ancestors were walking in swamps and carrying clubs. Physical pleasure is certainly encouraged, and roles here are even relaxed -- you certainly could have lived as a Man and worn a dress every day if you'd liked to -- its not unheard of. But the spectre of widespread sexual interactions between the two races forces us to monitor our citizens, and be forever vigilant in correcting perversion, for the alternative is destruction of our society, and perhaps war between Men and Women forever again, both on a personal level and a global one -- and we cannot afford to destroy any of this last small pool of genetic information, this last bit of Earth. Reorientation, Miss Carlisle, is the only alternative for you. It is your only salvation."
"I refuse to be erased. My gender, my sexuality, its all too deeply a part of me. You are condemning me to death." She spoke softly. "Your society is sick. It fixes its little problems by covering them up with bigger ones. And its not even that peaceful, really..." she said, remembering the two women she had seen.
Cummings smiled. "You will live. In fact, you will be quite happy. We will make sure of that. Court is adjourned." He flipped a switch, Beverly's screen blinked, then his image returned. "This is a private line now. Everything is decided -- why not just relax, pack your things, and get ready to return to your proper place? We'll have someone there to help you in a few minutes."
"They won't find me here. Your mind-butchers and body-butchers will never touch me again." Beverly stood.
"You can't run away! There's no where to go - you may as well wait. Mars is relatively livable now, but no one can survive more than a day or two without returning to the colonies. We WILL have you, you know."
"Goodbye." Beverly said, reaching to the rear of the viewscreen and pulling on a cable there. The picture vanished.
She walked to her dresser, opened a drawer, and placed a shawl around her head and shoulders, fastening it with a pin. Then she took a heavy parka from a hook on the wall and pulled it on. She walked to the door, opened it, and went outside.
There was a small three-wheeled vehicle there. She sat carefully on the seat, pushed a button, and the cart purred with life. She drove the cart away from the low building where her apartment was located, down a rust- colored dirt path, between buildings and installations on either side of her, until she was in the open. She turned then, heading for a slight rise of ground far in the distance. The sky shone violet above her, with a misty haze clinging to the horizon in all directions. There was a faint vehicle path here which she was following, but it was obviously rarely used.
The ground began to tilt upwards after about half an hour, and she passed a sign reading "Geyser Installation 14 - authorized persons only." The ground was very damp here - there was even a small stream, frozen, leading off to her left. A second sign appeared before her, "Geyser Installation 14 -- Danger -- protective equipment required beyond this point".
The terrain grew steeper, and the little cart whined as it climbed, its tiny wheels occasionally spinning as they lost their grip on the moist sand. Suddenly, she reached the top of a hill. From here, she could see for many kilometers in all directions. She was on the edge of an enormous bowl shaped crater; before her, downhill, was a beautiful blue lake of water, round, about 4 kilometers in diameter. Going downhill now, the cart whirred forward with ease. In a few minutes, she was at the edge of the water, where she stopped and got off her vehicle. A warm mist rose from the water, and gentle breezes swirled it around her as she stood there. Slowly, gently, she removed her parka and shawl and placed them on the seat of the cart. She reached down and removed her shoes, and kicked them aside. Then she slipped out of her skirt, blouse, and underwear, and stood in the steamy air unclothed. She reached out her arms, stretching like a cat, enjoying the feel of the warmth, and smiled. She stepped into the water.
The water was hot, but not uncomfortably so. In the light gravity, she swam further out with little effort. The water was so incredibly clear that the bottom seemed almost within reach of her toes, although it was many meters deep, and plunging much deeper below her with every stroke she took.
The Geysers were a marvel of engineering. Almost a mile below, at the congruence of many miles of underground caverns filled with water, was a powerful fusion heater, heating up a million cubic feet of water to nearly 600 degrees, restrained from boiling only by the tremendous pressure of the column of water above it. But even that pressure eventually would give way when the temperature reached a critical level, and an immense column of water and superheated steam would shoot forth from the surface of Mars, reaching nearly escape velocity, and forming a mushroom cloud of life-giving moisture above the planet.
Beverly floated effortlessly in the warm water, now completely enshrouded by a meter deep mist clinging to the surface. Bubbles floated up around her. On her back, she could look up at the velvety sky, where even in the day some of the brightest stars were visible. Glittery Deimos danced its way accross the horizon to her left. On her right, a bright blue star caught her attention.
She closed her eyes now, letting the tiny waves lap against her as she floated. A trace of a tear showed on her cheek, but she was smiling. Soon, she knew, a miracle would happen.
Soon it would rain on Mars.