Date: Mon, 27 Jan 2014 18:13:54 +0000
From: H'eidi Eros <thothtarot@hotmail.co.uk>
Subject: Leela Brown and the Mutant Apocalypse. (tg) part 3

Leela Brown and the Mutant Apocalypse.
A tale of survival, multidimensional romance,
transformation and the puppies of war.

By H'eidi Knight

Part Three

Hail most gentle and lovely readers,

Welcome back to another slice of the adventures of beautiful transgender
heroine Leela Brown and her journey in time and space. Backward and
forwards from 1999 to 2999 and all stops in between. If you have hung
with us through the last lust filled 70 thousand words you should be
ready for part three.

If you are new to this semi-autobiographical time travel story, the year
is now 2014. To celebrate Sarah and Heidi's anniversary Heidi decides to
write a spoof, but honest holiday romance version of their original
meeting. The book begins to take on a life of it's own, becoming more and
more frank and less and less earnest, as Lee becomes Leela and Leela
becomes Heidi.

In spite of the main characters not actually having sex, the Nifty erotic
archive still continues to post the chunks of 'The Thoughts of Chairwoman
Heidi" on their web site. Thankfully most readers continue with us on the
journey. Even risking chunks of 16 year old Leela's Kafka-like epic of
mutants and ghostly transgender romance... mixed with her continuing
un-stressful journey to discovering what it is to live as a girl.

As you join us, Leela is on day three of her week apart from Sarah. She
has snoozed, tried on a lot of clothes, had her make up done by a
wonderful shop owner, eaten a cheese sandwich and had impure and improper
thoughts about Latin heart throb Antonio Banderas. If this is the kind of
breakneck passionate adventure you crave, leap onboard the Mutant
Apocalypse Express ... here we go ...

Additional Note: As I began to write today's section I was NOT intending
to add a certain event into the narrative. It wasn't nice thing and I
wasn't ever going to be talk about. I did decide to leave it in, though I
don't want anyone to get upset about it. It happened and I'm fine and
with the distance of 15 years and 4 months, it is even something you can
laugh about.
My apologies if it torpedoes the tale a little. If you want, read the
family games night, then scroll down to where I cheerfully shout
HELLO!!!!! .. it will be safe to return to reading. I might even thrown
in a distractingly passionate love scene.


Monday family night turned out to be surprisingly fun. After having a
huge meal in a harbour front eating place in Padstow we traveled back
across Cornwall to Pentewan and our caravan. Nobody felt like an evening
meal or watching me sweeping around the caravan in the various items Mum
had bought me in Padstow.

Some ancient board games appeared from storage and the annual game of
hunt for dice began. The frustration of trying to find at least one six
sided die in any of the boxes. It happens every holiday and we never
remember once we are home to buy some dice and put them in the caravan
for the following year's vacation.

We finally gave in and I fetched a ten sided die from my bag. As a
dedicated Vampire roleplayer, I don't travel anywhere without my black 10
sided dice (numbers in vivid red, naturally!) ...after all I don't know
if I am going to meet another player and we might need to decide whose
cape might be darker or whose gaze is the most brooding and erotic.

We give a few games a try, but everyone is cheating like crazy. Ryan
becomes unhappy if he doesn't win. I become unhappy if Mum and Dad give
in and let him win, feeling sure they never did that to me when I was 11
(They did .. bless them!)  Dad becomes unhappy when people invent new
rules without passing them by him. Ryan's timewarp rule in Cluedo, which
lets him sneak a look at the solution and then carry on playing as if he
hasn't, is especially unpopular. Mum becomes unhappy when we all stop
being happy .. which is just her.

It was cooler on Monday night, so I had pulled on a nightdress and fleece
before taking my towel and walking down to the shower block. I have my
hair tied up in a haphazard fashion, reluctant to surrender the braids
and black ribbons the lady in Padstow wove into it. I've got my white
leather shoulder back filled with wipes, soap, shower gel and some
writing paper. I intend to sit in the quiet of the shower block and enjoy
the free electric light (push the button ever 10 minutes) to write
today's bit of the Mutant Apocalypse.

"Hello!!" comes the voice I'd misplaced in the 'Embarrassment Corner' of
my mind. Dave is a guy who tried to chat me up last week. I've not seen
him since I confessed to him I'd got a girlfriend and everything got a
bit awkward. I reluctantly smile and wave as he comes loping up to speak
to me.
"Hi, Dave!" I say, wondering what this is about.

"How is your week going?" he asks, catching his breath. He really is out
of condition for teenager, unless he has run all the way from Lands End
and I'm being a little unkind.

"Brilliant." I lie. Why am I lying? I don't lie at all well, I hate it
and it just makes me utterly miserable.

"Ace!" he says. Who says 'ace' anymore? I realise that I don't want to
share how I am missing Sarah with this person I barely know. It is my
business and my pain. He might see the absence of my girlfriend as an
opportunity to try and save me from being a lesbian. It is like he has
mental powers for the next sentence from him is ...

"How is your girlfriend?" Merciful mother of the Divine Abraxas and the
Great Invisible Spirit! He knows! He probably watched her leave on
Saturday and has been waiting to pounce on me ever since. Completely
against my will I feel my eyes begin to fill up.

"She has had to go home." I say, curse me for my reflexive truth telling.
The swine puts a hand on my shoulder to comfort me. I'm too polite to say
or do anything, so I let him.

"Oh no, that is really bad!" He says with such fake sincerity I nearly
begin to hysterically laugh. In his head I'm probably already gasping in
ecstasy under his pumping body, thanking him for showing me what a real
man can do for me. I am about to tell myself I'm being too harsh and
judgmental on him, when he slides his hand along my shoulders and tries
to pull me in for a hug.

"What the fuck!" I say without sounding the words out. I dip my head
forward because I sense he might try and kiss me. Indeed he plants a kiss
into my hair.

"Don't worry, it will be okay." He says. I am drawn closer into his
embrace. I turn slightly to the side to avoid a front to front encounter
and his groin connects to my thigh. He is turned on, the bastard has a
big lazy bulge in his pants and it bumps into me. I wonder if this has
been an accident, it was me that moved and maybe he didn't mean to rub
his chubby up against me. He slips a hand under my chin and tries to lift
my head. I can hear him mumbling "You are so beautiful .." and I know he
is going in for a kiss.

"I don't want this!" I say, still not capable of being rude and just
telling him to fuck off. He destroys my 'maybe it was an accidental
chubby encounter' by pushing his crotch into my thigh and holding it
there. He is letting me know he is aroused and how much.

"God, you are so beautiful!" he says. "You turn me on so much." I swear I
can feel him getting harder. He slips a hand down my back to my bum and
pulls me against him. It is getting frightening now. He is much much
bigger than me and well built. He could force himself on me, then, when
he discovers I'm not the girl he thought I was, probably slap me.

"I don't like boys!" I say, a little louder than my 'what the fuck' ...
maybe he heard that tiny whisper as 'wow, lets fuck' ...but If I sent my
Latin Lover to wank himself off alone, I am not going to go down on this
idiot.

"Have you ever been with a boy?" he asks, still insistently rubbing his
arousal onto my thigh. I know if I lie and say no, he will insist on
proving what caring and sensitive lovers they can be. If I say yes, I
wanked one off once, he will take that as encouragement and a promise to
wank him off.

I feel trapped in more ways than one. I want Claire or Sarah to appear in
my head and tell me what to do. Claire would probably have snapped his
spine by now or got him in a wristlock. Sarah would have destroyed him
with a devastating put down or a movie quote that sliced his manhood off
with its satirical appropriateness.

I'm beginning to tremble and fear he might read this as arousal .. that I
am shivering in passion. I find my mind is blank with nothing inside it.
From somewhere inside me I find courage. The memories of all of Sarah's
wonderful religious curses and utterances. The appeals to holy mothers of
Greek and Babylonian gods. Sarah is a complete atheist, but she adores
the concept of the female divine. That any masculine god who strides
around the heavens with his giant cosmic penis flapping about, first had
a female creator. The Female divine. I can't remember a single bloody
female deity to appeal to though. Then I have it ...

"By the Holy Mother of the Great Fucking Cthulhu," I say, "Let me the
fuck alone!" I look up at him and pull backwards from his embrace.

"I was only trying to be nice!" he protested.

"Tell that to my other thigh!" I wish I had the foresight to say. Instead
I give him a sour look and stride off into the shower block.

"This is the ladies, don't fucking follow me in here!" I shout after him,
discovering that adrenalin and fear make me into a real potty mouth. He
is walking away though. Heading back to some dismal caravan or tent. I've
four days left in this miserable place, I can't wait for them to pass.

Note: This was the last I ever saw of him. It gives me satisfaction to
imagine he may have spotted me coming several times in the following week
and dived into hiding rather than piss me off again .. who knows!

HELLO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(All the jerks, may time have withered their manhoods, have departed. It
is safe to return!)

The shower block was warm and steam filled. I had obviously just missed a
number of other shower users by mere minutes. To lift my spirits I
imagined them showering together. Much in the way Sarah and I had
subverted the hygiene goal of the shower to explore numerous other
possibilities that hot water inspires in the minds of the passionate.
Hands touching under the flow of water. Slippery soap covered bodies
rubbing against each other. Becoming bolder. That is better, I'm feeing
nicely disconnected from what has just happened.

I put my bags on the wooden bench and slide the 50p into the machine.
Time to take back this night for feminine sexuality. I undress and move
under the stream of powerful hot water. I haven't got a shower cap, and
anyway, no cap could contain the hair that Sarah describes as a riot of
curls on a Pre-Raphaelite Muse. I scrub my face and then let the water
rinse it off. My hair gets a little damp, mostly from the steam, but I
keep the braids in place. I raise my hands to my breasts, then laugh,
suddenly realising I don't have them. How strange, I've been with breasts
all day, everyday for nearly a week now. Sleeping sometimes with my bra
filled with Sarah's socks. My body image has got used to having this
modest, but very real frontage. Now without them, I realise that frontage
has internalised. I actually feel naked without them there.

"Goddess, give me something sweet and appealing!" I ask the future, rub
my nipples and sigh. The route to getting female hormones isn't an easy
one. Sarah has told me of the assessments and the hoops she had to jump
through to get treatment. It was worth it though. I remember just six
days ago, seeing her pull down her leotard and seeing them for the first
time. I didn't know my body was just like that. Just needing the right
chemical signal to grow natural breasts. A week ago Sarah was fantasizing
about my future breasts and I was uncomfortable and unsure. Now I knew I
wanted them with a passion. I wanted low cut tops that gave Sarah a
glimpse of my cleavage. I wanted her hands on them, to lie back and
surrender to her mouth teasing me. Sarah was a natural tease. Both in and
out of the bedroom. She seemed to take joy in her role of leader, the
more clever of us both. She loved the subtle, but kindly, teasing of my
sexual response.

And me? I loved being teased. I naturally submitted to it and adored the
attention and erotic charge it gave me. The night we had played out the
fantasy of me giving Sarah a baby, cumming inside her as she quite
deliberately made me promise not to, then waiting until the very moment
of no-return to make me. It was gorgeous control, but kindly and loving.
I adored giving her that mastery over me.

I longed to play that scenario in the reverse. Pretending my hand was the
eager passage waiting for her. That I was fertile and ready for her seed
to squirt inside me. I wouldn't try the trick of making her promise not
to cum inside me ... I would have done that last week, but I understand
now that Sarah wouldn't have liked me to just copy her fantasy. That was
just for me, perfectly judged for my needs and my passive longing to be
controlled. No, I need something that will appeal to her.

"I've checked the calendar," I say to the warm shower room. "It is my
fertile time .." I stroke a fingertip across my flat stomach.

"Do you want to try again?" Sarah says in my mind. I nod and cross to the
wooden bench. I put a towel along the hard wooden slats, then lie down
with my head on my shoulder bag. I open my legs and gesture for her to
come to me. By the time she walked across the room the anticipation of
being inside me has made her hard. She kneels down to begin to lick at
me, but I gently pull her up to kiss me instead.

"I love you." She says. "I want this to be special for you."

"Then delay your orgasm until I've cum ... but be inside me to make me
cum." I ask. Instead of just making a tube with my hand to accept her
erection, I hold my own erection, slippery and wet from the shower in my
hand. She will need to enter me, pushing herself along my length.
Thrusting and stimulating me with just the movement of her beautiful
penis. I will be lying there passive, accepting her, letting my orgasm
build slowly. She will be desperately thrusting and trying to keep her
orgasm at bay. It is a challenge I know she will love.

"You don't think I can do it, do you?" Sarah says. I forget that internal
Sarah is a mind reader. She shares my brain, so knows all the rubbish I'm
thinking. I laugh.

"You don't stand a chance!" I answer. "I am going to use all my womanly
wiles on you to make you cum early." I squirm my hips and let out a sigh.
I imagine feeling her at my sex. Pushing gently against my arousal. I let
her slide inside without a single protest.

"You are going to cum!" she promises.

"Without a doubt, but I will cum into the beautiful sticky pool of your
gift to me!" I promise her right back.

"Not going to happen!" She leans forward and kisses my breasts. Her
tongue sliding from one nipple to the other. Planting little kisses
across me.

"Hey, not fair!" I say, shuddering in pleasure. Damn her, she has
followed my thoughts about my breast longing. Now she is playing on my
delights and anticipations. All the while she pushes firmly, but slowly
in and out of me. Letting the head of her penis slide almost clear of me,
then squeezing forwards until she fills me completely.

"I am going to make you cum by just playing with your breasts .." she
says.

"That is impossible!" I gasp untruthfully.

"You know I can do it!" Her mouth dips down to my budding breasts. Her
hair spills forward and rubs across them. Her penis never stops moving.
Pushing along my length. I feel myself start to tingle delightfully. A
warm glow that spreads out from my nipples and down to my groin. I know I
am going to fail, she knows I am going to fail ... it has all been a love
game of pretence and delight. I can't help trying one more time.

"Make me with child!" I beg her.

"I would, if I could." she wistfully says, still in control.

"Tell me the future!" I plead, feeling a muscle deep twitch in my groin.
I am close.

"Three years from now, we visit here again. Just the two of us. We find
the old shower block and share a few old memories."

"I hoped so .." I close my eyes and let her own me.

"You have beautiful breasts then." I shiver at the thought. "You kneel
before me in the hot water and ask me to do something you've never
requested before." I know what it is, I want to turn a horrible thought
into something touching and personal.

"I want you to cum on my breasts ... lovingly and adoringly. I want to
gaze up into your eyes and watch you pleasure yourself, watch you reach
the point of loosing control and feel the warmth and softness of your
gift." I tell her, but she already knows.

I cry out imagining the feeling of her cumming across me. My hips twist
and I'm filling my hand with tiny pulses of pleasure. I can feel it
pattering across my tummy, slipping over the edge of my hips and running
down onto the towel. I let out an animalistic, shamanistic howl of divine
female power. Calling down blessings from the Moon Goddess to seal my
future.

As my orgasm rises and falls I know I feel Sarah still moving, still
clinging on through my pleasure. She grins a smile of victory and self
control.

"Love me, be with me." I ask, honestly and openly. Such candor is her
undoing, I feel her surrender inside me.

Tuesday

My love.
Did you know that the human fetus begins as a female? Male or female
later on, when the soup of hormones kick in.
We all have gills as well, for a while.
I wonder if some future point in our development it will become possible
for the whole human race to joyfully become a species solely made up of
female aquatic creatures.
Now you are going to tell me someone has already written a science
fiction series just on that topic, aren't you?
Tuesday today. Named by the Norse for their god Tyr.
I think I will always love Tuesdays, the day the fates pushed you into a
swimsuit/tights and made you think masturbating in the woods was a great
idea.
(Don't leave this note around for your parents to read.)
More things to love sharing with you.
Stephen Hawking's American Accent.
Gormenghast Castle .. in spring time.
Strawberry Milkshake during thunderstorms
Watching you sleep.
Line Drawings in the Good News Bible.
Old Black and White Miss Marple movies with Margaret Rutherford.
Hunting Snarks together!
Dorothy Parker.
The Art of the Hildebrant Brothers.

I know by now I will be missing you rather excessively. I just left you
15 minutes ago, fast asleep and beautiful in your dreamland. Already, as
I lie here writing you this note, I am missing you with a heart sick
feeling like a lump in my stomach. Heaven help me by Tuesday!

Lets not do this separation stuff again. It isn't good.
xxx

A week. At lunchtime today I will have known her just a week. Four of
those days she was actually in my life.  Four days just living in my
mind, in her notes and in the novel I'm writing. The novel has begun to
scare me just a little.

Writing is a weird process. This is something I've discovered over the
last week. You think the writer is in a driving seat position, the
vehicle being his/her ability for words onto paper, the novel is the
result. It makes sense and looks simple, especially on paper. However,
there is something odd happening that I've not quite got my head around
yet. You begin writing and the control you think you have over the
flow/direction of the story doesn't happen. Characters take on a life of
their own. Events seem to arrive that you didn't plan and suddenly they
are happening to the characters. The process is fraught with an
undercurrent that almost seems beyond my control. I have no way of
knowing if this is normal, or this is happening because I'm inexperienced
as a writer and just need to practice getting the story from my brain and
onto paper ...ignoring the undercurrents and being more assertive with
bossing my characters around.

Right, I resolve to try it again. I'm not going to be a wuss and the
story is going to happen how I want it to unfold.

"This is insane!" My ghostly Sarah screamed. Her words didn't carry
across to ears of the Examiner however. He continued to prowl around the
bed with his clipboard and pen.

"Sarah, please!" Leela begged, "Activate the Reality Bridge again. Suck
me out of this place .. anywhere has to be better than this!"

"I don't have control over it, neither of us do." Sarah beat her hands
against the Examiner, but the man's body might have been a wall of rock.
The face of a mountain, frozen by the elements, a dense cooled soup of
rock that is beyond any mortal manipulation.

"That is the second time you have addressed to this Sarah entity, yet I
see no evidence of a presence of another here." The Examiner gestured
with his writing stylus. "Are you talking to spirits and demons?"

"Yes, yes I am!" Leela confessed. "I am quite obviously possessed and
need immediate transfer to the psychological department!"

"I am the head of the psychological department." The tall man announced.
He gestured exactly to the centre of his chest with the stylus. "Doctor
Ebeneezer Malfeasance."

"Isn't there somewhere else I quite obviously need to be transferred to,
Doctor Malfeasance?" Leela questioned.

"I think you are precisely where you need to be." he stated.

"This one is a keeper!" Sarah broke off her assault and stalked around
the bed. She thought furiously. "Ah, have him turn his back on you .. and
then hold up a number of fingers. I will tell you how many he is holding
up!"

"I can prove I am in league with spiritual forces ... and not a case for
the Psychological Department." Leela announced boldly.
"Most interesting delusion, but I am not prepared to collude with your
fantasies." Dr Malfeasance said.

"Turn your back on me, hold up some fingers and I will tell you how
many!" Leela said. "Go on, indulge me just once!"

"Very well." He swung around with a precision that suggested practice in
making dramatic exits from troubling conversations. Three delicate vinyl
sheathed fingers were held up, then he reached a decision and lowered one
finger. Sarah told Leela in exact detail.

"You held up three, then changed your mind and lowered one. So two
fingers." she said. "Transport me to the Department for the Spiritually
Possessed or whatever!"

"I am the head of that department as well!" he grandly announced, turning
his head to regard her.

"No fucking way!" Sarah said. "I think he is the only person working
here!" She squinted a look at the assessment form. Three other options
were listed on the paper. Transfer to Department for Social Adjustment,
transfer to the Department for Mutation and Experimentation, transfer to
the Department for Elimination. Sarah sadly related the options to Leela.

"Are you also the head of Social Adjustment, Mutation & Experimentation
and the department for Elimination?" she asked.

"Alas, no." He said sadly. "But I am being impressed by your ability to
read my form!"

"I could have just been through this system before." Leela suggested.

"Hardly likely, we'd have you listed and a file prepared on your case."
Malfeasance said.

"That sounds about their style." Sarah sighed. "Ask him if there is there
any discharge procedure from this place?"

"Any chance of me getting discharged?" Leela asked.

"Hardly likely." he replied.

There is a clack of something at the farthest edge of the room. Doctor
Malfeasance turns toward it. The sound of a gurney can be heard. Two dark
figures push it into the sparse illumination provided by the oil lamp.

"Transfurr ordurr frum the Department orf Advarnced Studees." the larger
of the two figures says.
"There is no such Department!" Malfeasance protests.

"Restricted, ain't it .." the dark figure chuckled. "Need ta know bases
only, and yer obbiously darn't needs to know it, Doc."

Malfeasance spluttered behind his surgical mask. His fingers twitched
impotently as the two figures crossed to the bed and began unstrapping
Leela. She is scooped up by the one who spoke and placed on the gurney.

"Ear yer go, Little Miss" the figure says kindly.

"That isn't a little miss ..." Malfeasance raged. "That is a dangerous
mind controlling mutant with links to dark spiritual powers!"

"Gud job we arr takin' err to the Department of Aeronautical Studees
then."

"Hang on a second!" Malfeasance said cunningly. " You said it was the
Department of Advanced Studies?"

"Yup, dats the wun."

"But you just said Department of 'Aeronautical' Studies?" The Doctor
probed.

"Yup, dats the wun." the figure confirmed as he wheeled the gurney
through the doorway and out into the dimly lit corridor.

"Well, it can't be both!!" the voice of Dr Malfeasance protested. Leela
enjoyed the way his voice and protests grew quieter and quieter.

"Ello, Little Miss." The dark figure finally said. "The name is Kip,
Miss."

"Und I am 'ayetch, miss" the other figure said.

"I'm very pleased to meet you both." Leela said. "Where are you taking
me?"

"Anywhere away from that mad fucking Doctor is good!" Sarah said.

"Yerr orft to seas the nice lady Doctor." Kip rumbled. "She will take
goodly care of you."

They wheeled the gurney into an ornate long brass and wood elevator. Kip
cranked the lever downwards. With a grumble and a lurch the carriage
shook itself into life.

"The lady Doctor, what department does she work for?" Leela couldn't
resist asking. Though still nervous following her 'rescue' by Kip and
'ayetch, she still feared for her fate.

"She dunt work fer no department, miss." Kip laughed.

The elevator stopped suddenly and Kip heaved open the mesh door. He
reached under the gurney and took a blanket from somewhere. He covered
Leela completely.

"Just be quiet, miss .. pretends like yerr not udder there."

"Okay." Leela pressed herself onto the soft cotton of the gurney top and
trying to think herself flat. She felt the gurney move a little, turn and
then move a little more. The journey seemed to take an eternity. Several
times they were stopped by figures who questioned where they were going.
Each occasion Kip gave a different destination.

Finally the journey ended with a soft knock on a door.

"Doctor Crooz?" Kip asks in his basso voice. Leela head the sound of a
door being opened. Suddenly the blanket is being scooped up, herself
bundled with it, and carried. Leela makes a muffled protest.

"Ear yerr go, littul miss." says Kip.

She is placed gently down on a soft surface. She clears the blanket from
her face in time to see Kip and 'ayetch leaving the room.

"Thank you!" she calls.

"Yerr never seen us, miss" he laughs. A handsome lady in her early 50's
closes the door behind Kip. She turns and smiles at Leela.

"Forgive all the cloak and dagger, but I had to get you out of clutches
of Doctor Malfeasance somehow."

"Thank you, is he a real Doctor?" Leela can't help but ask. Her brain
slowly takes in the homely little room she finds herself in. A warm fire
burns in a hearth surrounded by a confusion of books and pottery figures.
Two leather armchairs are angled at the fire. Leela, still bundled like
the infant Moses in one. Doctor 'Crooz' crosses to the other.

"Heavens no, my child." she confirms Leela's suspicions. "But he is an
excellent administrator and professional sadist."

"Professional sadist?" Leela asks.

"Right now he will be attempting to locate you frantically through
official channels."

"Professional," Leela asks again, "Sadist?"

"Yes, dear. The Establishment pay him handsomely each quarter for his
skills in inflicting pain and discomfort."

"Why?" Leela asks. Dr 'Crooz' gets up and crosses to a tea pot and cups.
She pours a cup of tea and picks up a plate containing a slice of cake.
She offers them to Leela.

"Because the Establishment believe that nothing of importance is achieved
without discomfort and punishment."

Leela looks around the comfortable cluttered room and takes a bite of the
cake.

"And you aren't part of this Establishment?" Leela asks.

"I am more like yourself than you could possibly imagine." she answers.
"I'd never be welcomed or accepted by the Establishment, but I have
psychological skills and certain influence. They tolerate me here."

"And me?" Leela asks.

"You we need to get out of this complex as quickly as possible."

"Why?" Leela is just beginning to feel warm and safe. The idea of having
to leave this little room makes her head reel.

"Because, clever and sneaky as Mr Kip and Mr Haytch undoubtedly are,
Malfeasance will eventually guess you could only be in one place. This
room."

"How long do I have?" Leela says, stretching out her fingers to the glow
of the fire.

"We probably have 30 minutes before the Senior Orderly and Administrators
arrive to search my rooms."

She reached behind her chair and pulled a small valise around.

"How do I get out of here?" Leela asked. Sarah crossed to the window set
high up on one wall.

"We are sub-basement level here." she told Leela, looking up at the small
grate over a glass.

"You have one chance, and I am sorry to offer this to you, but it really
is the only way out."

She clicked the catch on the valise open and reached inside. A folded
garment in a shiny grey material and a two bottles of fluid were drawn
out and laid down on the hearth rug.

"What is it?" Leela asked.

"It is a serum of R.N.A. that contains a pattern for re-writing your
entire genetic structure."

"So I will look different?"

"Not really, your face and body shape will remain the same. It will just
allow you certain abilities that will get your through the only exit in
this complex that isn't monitored by guards, cameras and multiple
checkpoints."

"Which is?"

"The water main." Dr 'Crooz' unfolded the grey material and handed it to
Leela. It was a one piece body suit made from a curiously elastic fabric.
"you'd better put it on, the water will be just above freezing and I
don't know how long you will have to swim to get clear."

Leela stood and regretfully let the blanket fall from her shoulders. She
turned the suit over in her hands to look for a way in. The neck section
was stretchy and pliable. She pushed a foot in and through, tugging the
fabric up her leg. With some awkward stretching and contorting, she got
the bodysuit over her hips. Immediately her legs felt warmer and
curiously secure in the tightness of the material. She pulled the
nightgown over her head and continued to inch the suit upward.

Dr 'Crooz' rinsed out the tea cups in a little sink. She turned back to
discover Leela looking down at herself in the sleek sea lion coloured
formsuit. The top of the bodysuit was low cut, allowing a large section
of collar bone and trapezius clear.

"Now drink the bottle with the red liquid in." Dr 'Crooz' pointed to it.
"Put the bottle with the blue liquid safely inside your suit. You will
need that to return to your human form afterwards."

Leela unscrewed the bottle. Despite her fear, she had to smile at the
neatly written label 'DRINK ME' on the side of it. The contents were
curiously tasteless and slightly salty. Instantly she felt their effect
though. The room spun and her senses blurred. She could feel Dr 'Crooz'
helping her to walk. Guiding her a small side room. She sat Leela down on
the floor and rolled back a thick Persian rug that covered a wrought iron
grate in the floor.

"It leads into the main water system. I am so sorry!"

"Wha .. wha .." Leela's voice is going. Like the Little Mermaid, the cost
of transformation seems to be her speech.

"Try not to breathe too deeply, your body is rewriting itself."

"I .. don't ...eee an .. no ... your name .." Leela gasped. Desperate to
know at least the first name of this lady who had risked so much to help
her.

"Shelly, it is Shelly." She helped Leela cross to the grate and pulled
back the cover. Leela could smell the water flow. It called out to her on
a bodily level. She yearned to plunge into it's embrace.

"Gud by" she managed to say as she slid forward like a seal into the fast
flowing stream of fluid.

"Good luck, my dear." Leela heard just before the water closed over her
head.


The universe changed. Her senses exalted at the tang of the water, gills
opening along her neckline. No wonder the suit had such a low cut. It
allowed a twin set of gills to sluice oxygen rich water through her
system. The water was cold, but Leela had to laugh at the protection of
the suit. It wasn't needed in the slightest, her new aquatic form didn't
have the same temperature needs of her old self. It was protection
against scraping the insides of the water main though. The slick pipes
could still be abrasive, especially at the speeds the water carried her
along at.

Never a strong swimmer, Leela also marveled at the thin taught muscular
control she now had over her flight. Twisting like a sea lion, a dolphin
..a beautiful tuna fish. She navigated the turns in the pipe with a sonar
like sense that seemed to bed into her brain effortlessly. The only thing
visible in the pipe was the flickering blue ghost of Sarah, unhappily
being towed behind her.

Suddenly she registers a dim light ahead of her. She over shoots it, then
twists around to kick back against the current. The light is coming from
a large iron grid. Filtering down from numerous tiny ventilation holes.
She takes several deep breaths of water, oxygenating her bloodstream and
cranes up and out. Through the tiny hole she can just make out the
roadway outside a scary Dickensian Asylum building. Lights appear to burn
savagely from most of the windows. Leela can feel the water she is trying
to hold inside her body leaking out of her gills. She gives up and sinks
back under the flow.

Sarah floats just beside her. A blue spirit in her naked form. Leela
gestures upward and holds a quizzical hand out.

"You want me to check out the upstairs?" Sarah asks, her voice now
sounding strange within Leela's head. Sarah levitates toward the surface
and vanishes. Moments later she returns and shakes her head.

"Just outside the main entrance .. I think we need to go much further
down the pipe system." Leela nods her comprehension and twists back into
the current. Sarah feels the tug of connection drawing her after her
companion and surrenders to the helter skelter ride.
The water main connects to other side branches. The turbulence increases
as other currents boil in together. Leela begins to struggle to maintain
her dolphin-like grace. She is still hungry, the bite of cake seems a
woeful amount of time ago. Despite letting the current do the lion's
share of the propulsion, she is still expending energy keeping her flight
even. If it wasn't for the speed of her passage, she feels she could just
close her eyes in this womb of water. Let herself float and rest.

Suddenly chaos. The pipe is gone, she is in freefall .. a large
underground chamber and a ring of giant vents discharging water. She
falls into the confusion and her body slams into something hard and
unyielding. Her mouth opens and a silence rings loudly in her ears. She
reaches out to cling to something, anything, but her hands sweep clear
water. With feeble strokes she drags herself into calmer water. A set of
steel rungs loom out of the gloom. Leela holds out both hands and feels a
side wall. She slips one hand through a rung. Gathering her energy for a
moment, she pulls up and begins to climb. The air breaks over her head.
Reflexively she tries to take a breath and chokes on the thin gas.
Dipping her head beneath the surface she draws water through her gills.
She fumbles inside the suit to find the hard flask of serum. She can
sense a problem even before her fingers brush against the cracked surface
of it.

"Looks like we've had our glitch for this mission. " Sarah says, looking
at the broken serum vial in Leela's hand.




Afterword
Last Instalments mixed in movie quotes: I didn't warn you about them
being in part two, so less replies this time!

Thirty seconds of revelation is worth a million years of know-nothings.
is from the movie The Horse's Mouth.

My god, it's full of stars are the last words of the human Dave Bowman
before he is transformed into the Star Child in 2010, Odyssey 2.

Tragic Thomas Hardy heroine: It had to be unlucky Tess of the
d'Urbervilles I almost name checked. No really a movie quote, but it felt
right to mention her.

"you face forward or you face the possibility of shock and damage" is
Brody's immortal line from Kevin Smith's MALLRATS.

"Better than mortal man deserves!" are the words spoken by Ginger to
herself and Sarah Connor in the original TERMINATOR movie.

Today's winners are: Savage Beauty and Timos392

Your celebratory quote from Sarah is "Rotten kids, you work your life
out!" which is from 12 Angry Men.