Date: Sat, 31 Mar 2001 09:09:55 +0100
From: Beverly Taff
Subject: Spacetran 7

	We warped out of a huge cumulus rain cloud to hide our radar image
so we appeared without warning and had alighted on their rain-swept deck
before they even realised we were in the vicinity.  A startled lookout
gaped at the unexpected arrival before screaming to the officer on watch.
Within moments dozens of armed sailors had swarmed onto the flight deck and
nervously surrounded the Albatross.
	"Well at least these guys aren't shooting."  Sighed Beverly.
	"They're European.  They're not so 'gung-ho' as us Americans."  I
shrugged guiltily.  "Look that guy seems to be the senior officer."
	Beverly took the large paper pad and identified herself.  The
officer smiled and acknowledged us then took out a notebook and invited us
onto the deck.
	"Shall we go?"  I asked her.
	"You go.  See if there are any traps.  I'll guard Albatross.
They'll know all about you because you're famous."
	"OK.  Here goes nothing."  I shrugged.
	I could hardly blame Beverly for her caution.  It would have been
stupid to let Albatross fall into military hands.  This time I wore a
sensible overall to descend the ladder and eventually presented myself to
the Spanish Captain.  Like many educated Spanish he spoke several languages
perfectly.  He was also well aware of The Cold Albatross.  After three
oceanic encounters all aircraft carrier commanders were fully alerted to
any possible future visits.
	"So you've returned to Earth again ma-am.  An aircraft carrier once
again."
	"Indeed captain."  I smiled admiring his courteous formal English
	"And you're honouring the Spanish this time.  I admire your
impartiality."
	"Thank you captain.  I might add that yours is a particular honour
if you're agreeable."
	"Please explain."  He replied cautiously but courteously.
	We had stepped out onto the bridge-wing and were looking down onto
the Cold Albatross.  Beverly was clearly visible in the cockpit window and
the captain gave her a smart courteous bow before waving amicably.  I
nodded towards the Albatross and presented the deal.
	"That lady you see is the builder of that craft. She is the genius
who actually cracked time travel; a one Ms Beverly who I have finally
persuaded to declare herself to you if you will agree absolutely to respect
the integrity and privacy of her craft and make no attempt to impound it or
imprison her."
	He hesitated for a moment then glanced questioningly.
	"What are your plans?"
	"My plans are simply to return to my home planet and carry on my
life, hopefully with her as my companion.  I'm not sure what her plans are.
She say's she simply wants to return to Earth and live a normal life.
Truth to tell I think she's worn out with Space travel."
	"I've got a full dossier here containing all we know about you and
that lady.  Am I to presume she's changed her mind?"
	"I don't think she's gone that far.  She still wants to travel the
stars, -and the galaxies for that matter; it's just that she needs a place
to call home.  Don't interrogate her about it.  Under that exquisite
exterior she's a very frightened uncertain little child."
	"So what now." Wondered the captain.  "What d'you want me and my
ship to do?"
	"Well,- firstly agree not to harm her or the Albatross."
	"She's committed no offence, no act of aggression.  I can agree to
that."
	"Thank you captain.  I assume I can take your word on that."
	"Miss Denby I am a Spanish Naval officer.  My word is my Bond."
 	"Excellent captain, the only other thing is to caution your crew
not to go poking around inside the albatross.  There are forces tied up in
that craft that could destroy this planet and our heavenly neighbours."
	The captain's eyes narrowed nervously.
	"Are you saying there's a bomb or something aboard?"
	"Good gracious no!  The warp drive is where the energy lies.  If
some dumb matelot started fiddling with any levers he could accidentally
set the world on fire.  The Albatross must be strictly guarded.  I am quite
sure that if you respect these requests Miss Beverly will reward you with a
trip around the galaxy.  There's another gentleman who might also be so
rewarded.  He's a colleague of yours in the British navy."
	"Ah yes.  Captain Rawlin.  The man you took to Switzerland.  I've
met him on a couple of NATO exercises.  I think his ship is in The Persian
Gulf."
	"I think Miss Beverly would be wary of visiting the gulf. That's a
hotbed of trouble.  Her craft is very vulnerable."  I lied.  "Is there
anyway you have of contacting Captain Rawlin?"
	"Of course.  We are both NATO aircraft carriers."
	He took me out of the rain and within minutes I was speaking to a
familiar voice.  After some brief exchanges the Spanish Captain had agreed
to go aboard Cold Albatross if it was required.
	The next part was to be the biggest difficulty, -persuading Beverly
to trust a man.  I returned to the Albatross and finally convinced her that
the Spaniard was an honourable man of his word.  Nevertheless she still
freaked out when he respectfully poked his head through the cargo door and
I had to virtually nurse her frail shivering body in my arms before he
eventually made her acquaintance.  As he courteously extended his hand I
felt every muscle in Beverly's tiny frame lock up with fear.  It was only
now that I realised how badly she was messed up inside.
	I motioned him to sit in the seat in the cargo bay and wait a short
while as I gently nursed Beverly back to some form of coherent response.
Then I gently placed her in the cockpit and explained events.
	"The Persian Gulf!"  She squeaked.  "That's a war zone.  There'll
be all sorts of yanks flying around loaded for bear."
	"Well then now's the time to test that so called defence shield and
the guns.  Besides the British Aircraft Carrier is expecting us."
	"Well Gee thanks!  I thought we could just go straight to
Switzerland and declare ourselves to the commission.  Besides they should
just about have got anti-grav by now.  I half expected them to meet us
behind the moon when we arrived."
	"Well maybe Earthmen are a bit thicker than amphs."
	"Look all I want to do is live a normal life, preferably with you
in your cottage.  Then every few months just warp away to visit my friends
on other planets.  I just want to retire to my plantation like George
Washington did."
	"That's not going to happen unless we co-operate with the
authorities. The best way to do that is to get Captain Rawlin to speak for
us.  He's honest and I trust him."
	"Why can't they just trust us."
	"Do you trust them?"  I countered.
	"No!  But I've got reason not to trust them."
	"Well some of them still believe you're an alien.  Just remember I
did when I first met you."
	Beverly fell silent then slowly nodded her head as she accepted the
inevitability.  I motioned to the cargo bay door and asked her.
	"Can the Spanish Captain come into the cockpit now?  He's a perfect
gentleman and I did promise him a ride?"
	"I suppose so.  You promise too much, this is all turning to rat
shit."
	She turned to concentrate on her controls and ignored the captains'
courteously extended hand of friendship.  I gently motioned to the man and
tapped my skull discreetly to explain that Beverly was not a balanced
person when it came to men.  Then I indicated the observation divan under
the cockpit window.  Cautiously he sat on it and gazed expectantly out of
the window as the horizon started to curve.  Suddenly he let out a soft
Spanish oath as he recognised the Arabian Peninsular far below.
	"My God!  That's thousands of miles in a few seconds."  He wagged
his head disbelievingly.
	"Now comes the hard part."  Muttered Beverly nervously as she
fiddled with some newly installed controls and a blue tinted bubble
enveloped the Albatross.
	"Well the shield seems to work but it's hard to see out.  The
shield distorts everything."  I observed as I peered myopically at the
outline of Kharg Island.
	"We'd better switch if off then until we get a definite hostile
reaction."
	"You should have had some sort of radar fitted Beverly!"  I
scolded.
	The Captain turned to gape stupidly.
	"D'you mean you haven't got a radar?"
	"I never saw a need for one." Confessed beverly.  "Albatross was
never meant for this sort of stuff.  She's a transgalactic time traveller
not a bloody search and rescue helicopter."
	Even as she spoke a squadron of Iranian jets thundered past and the
Spaniard winced with surprise.
	"They've picked us up already.  They'll want us to land.  We're
over their air-space."  He cautioned.
	"Fuck their airspace."  Cursed Beverly.  "I'm an Earthwoman and
this is bloody Earth!"
	The captain and I exchanged amused glances.  Beverly certainly had
a very wide perspective.  She twitched a lever and within moments we were
over Bahrain and the captain gaped stupidly again before wagging his head
and smiling.  Below I recognised the familiar outline of a large
U.S. Nuclear aircraft carrier and warned Beverly.
	"Expect company again!"
	"Before I had finished speaking the roar of jets crashed about us
again and suddenly the sky was alive with planes of all nationalities."
	"I think you've disturbed the hive."  Grinned the Spanish Captain.
	"Come one, come all."  Shrugged Beverly as she engaged the shield
and went lower to find the smaller British aircraft carrier.  Within
minutes we had acquired a veritable armada of assorted jets who attached
themselves to us until we located the smaller British ship with it's
distinctive turned up nose.  A single pass identified the British Captain
Rawlin and he waved us down onto the deck.
	The Spanish captain and I quickly disembarked to make the
arrangements and within an hour Captain Rawlin had joined us in the
cockpit.  I had cautioned him about Beverly's dysfunctional neurotic
personality so he simply nodded graciously and joined his Spanish friend
and colleague on the divan.
	"So Switzerland it is then Gentlemen."  I advised them.
	The Spanish Captain forewarned his British counterpart and they
both shook their heads in disbelief as the Alps appeared almost by magic.
We swiftly recognised the huge ring of the CERNE project where the worlds'
scientists had decided to pool their research into gravity and we landed
without warning in the car park by the main research block.  Blank stares
of stunned disbelief gaped at us from a hundred windows before the doors
started spewing out the concentrated knowledge of humanity.
	I smiled inwardly and wondered if all the I.Q's were added up they
still might not surpass the awesome total accumulated in my dysfunctional
friends' sad tortured brain.  Payday had arrived.
	The first thing I had to do was separate the few female scientists
from the crowd and herd them into an acceptable reception committee.  A
brief explanation sufficed and the crowd of disappointed men grumbled as
the select female group accompanied Beverly into the building.
	A 'question and answer' session quickly developed as insoluble
questions were put to Beverly concerning gravity.
	The group drifted into a large lecture theatre where she casually
picked up some paper and laid out her explanations on a projector.
	Beverly's handwriting conveyed her fear.  Her arm rarely left her
side and the writing appeared tight and constricted as she continually
masked it accidentally with her tense little body.  The twenty or so female
heads were continually bobbing and twisting to follow her reasoning and
there were frequent interruptions as some of the finest mathematical brains
begged her to explain some inexplicable procedure.  The whole exercise was
above my head but I think the gist of it was a four dimensional geometry
and trigonometry applied to the atomic structure of an amalgam. The amalgam
was then 'drawn' like an artificial fibre then twisted like a skein of wool
a certain number of times. This effectively created a solid ring-like
structure only with two plane continuous sides and no ends.  The amalgam
was then baked in a forge before being immersed into a molten metal casting
to make an almost indestructible pad. After the application of a precice
fequency current a concentrated anti-grav field was generated and the
existing gravity was reversed upon itself.  The bigger or more numerous the
pads, the more 'lift' or 'thrust' was generated.  In three-dimensional
terms this is all but impossible to conceive.  In passing Beverly had also
created some new and original mathematical tools to solve the equations and
extrapolate the results to create a physical three-dimensional facsimile.
Just as Isaac Newton had invented Calculus to solve some of his problems so
had Beverly invented a new maths to solve hers.  All this when she was only
twelve and the new maths still lacked a name.
	As I sat silent in my seat I could hear mutterings of amazement
growing to a dull roar amongst the audience.  Suddenly Beverly tensed and
spun round white with fear.  The whole audience fell silent as feminine
intuitions quickly recognised her distress.  I cautiously approached her
trembling form and gently put my arm around her.
	"What's wrong?"  I whispered as the audience continued to stare
curiously.
	"Nothing!"  She squeaked as the tension flowed away just as quickly
as it had arrived. "Nothing, it was just De-ja-vue."
	"Go on.  What d'you mean?"
	"I tried to explain this before; when I was twelve.  They,- the
men, the scientists that is, they screeched and howled then tried to have
me put away."
	"That was then Beverly.  This is now.  Try and put it behind you."
I replied trying to reassure her.
	She smiled then grinned affectionately before grabbing me tightly
and kissing me passionately.  The auditorium remained deathly silent as the
scientists realised we were 'lesbian lovers'.  My eyes scanned the audience
nervously but Beverly ignored them as her eyes closed and her hands
burrowed under my blouse.  Fortunately my blouse and jacket combined to
make a fairly opaque material so nothing was visible under my suite jacket.
She clung to me and groped my breasts like a nursing child for nearly a
minute as I tried to signal to the audience to ignore the outburst.
Shocked expressions gaped back at me.  Then she let go as suddenly as she
had grabbed me and swung round to resume her calculations.
	The stupefied scientists took this as a signal to return to
normality and after a few nervous questions the session returned to its
previous lively exchange.
	Eventually, after nearly an hour of chalk and talk, Beverly rubbed
her aching shoulder and hitched her bum up onto the desk.
	"That's it.  Follow that and you'll have anti-grav."  She sighed.
	The audience erupted into violent clapping and shouting until one
older, more sober individual brought some order.
	"Well we can't thank you enough.  Would you like to stay and help
us build a craft?"
	Beverly shook her head determinedly.
	"Sorry.  No.  I've a lot of living to catch up on."
	With these words she grabbed me again and kissed me passionately
before releasing me and asking for a cup of coffee.  As one, all the women
gathered around her to shake her hand and congratulate her on her
discoveries.  I went to fetch a pot of coffee and was 'way-laid' as I
sought out the dining hall.  It was the 'older sober lady' again.
	"Miss Denby."  She called.
	"Call me Ruby."  I replied.
	"OK then Ruby.  She still hasn't explained space warps and time
travel."
	"I'm not sure she ever will."  I finished abruptly.
	"It's all in that big ring around the Albatross, isn't it?"
	"Absolutely, and she isn't telling.  Be thankful for what you've
got."
	"It would be nice to meet other life forms from other planets."
	"They're not 'Life forms' madam." I snapped.  "They're people.
Beverly and I prefer to call them people."  I chastened her.
	"But they're not human."  She challenged.
	"Of course they're not bloody human!  But they're still intelligent
and still 'people'."
	"You've got a strange anthropomorphic perspective.  It's not a very
scientific view considering you're a graduate yourself."
	"It's a perspective born of intergalactic travel."  I finished
condescendingly.  "If you ever get to meet other 'life forms' as you so
clinically describe them then you might just change that cold scientific
view you call 'a perspective'."
	I sensed her dehumanised nature and suddenly recalled Beverly's
nightmare childhood.  'This woman would have been exactly the sort of ghoul
who would have carried out the frankensteinian experiments on the children
in care.'  I silently gave thanks to God that she was a physicist and not a
doctor.  At least she had subconsciously recognised her inhumane nature and
entered the cold sterile world of theoretical physics.
	I felt a wave of nausea engulf me and turned away as the tray of
coffee trembled in my hand.  Down the corridor I found a happy Beverly
surrounded by the other scientists who were excitedly exploring her
'permanent make-up'.  Mathematics and Physics had been temporarily put
aside.
	'Real girls, doing real girl things.'  I observed with relief.
	After the encounter with the 'Bitch of CERN', I was glad to find
myself amongst real girls again, girls furthermore, who were not put off by
my relationship with Beverly.  They were probably sympathetic anyway after
possibly having received enough stick at school and university for choosing
the 'boy' subjects of physics and maths.
	Later Beverly and I invited them into the Albatross where they
showed equal interest in both Beverly's cabin and the drive systems.  Once
again they made several half-hearted efforts to persuade Beverly to reveal
a little bit about space warps and time travel but she remained
tight-lipped.  Eventually she told them that the maths for Anti-grav was
nothing compared with the maths for time and space warps.  As they
listened, the mathematicians eyed her enviously for her brain.
	I grinned inwardly when I considered that most women would have
only envied Beverly for her looks.  As a transvestite Beverly would have
found the latter more rewarding.  Eventually the girls made their farewells
and started to leave in 'dribs and drabs' until only Beverly, myself and
one particularly pretty girl remained.
	As a confirmed lesbian I quickly picked up the vibrations.  The
girl was 'up for it'.  I caught Beverly's eye and she wagged her head
slightly.  She had too many hang-ups to even contemplate a 'menage-a-trois'
and I ended up having to discreetly advise the girl that we were a devoted
'couple'.  She sighed, smiled and made her excuses without acrimony.
	That night Beverly and I discussed our relationship and how we
would go about legalising our union.  We returned to the CERN centre and
surfed the net until we found a suitable location for a discreet secret
wedding.
	Strangely it was the city of Manchester in Britain and we slipped
away that night to avoid too many curious eyes.  On route, Beverly changed
her appearance and by the time we reached Manchester the old Beverly had
virtually disappeared.
	The gay priest we had chosen specialised in same sex weddings but
she was amused and delighted when we revealed our true sexes.
	"You realise that this makes it completely legal don't you?"  She
grinned.
	"I'll have to locate my birth certificate."  Mumbled Beverly.
	"Have you any idea where you were registered as a child."
	"No."
	"Then I suggest the central registry in London.  If you can
remember your family name and your date of birth you'll soon find it."
Observed the priest.
	"I never had a birthday."  Replied Beverly softly.  "The family
wouldn't celebrate it because it was the day our mother died.  The day I
killed her."
	"That's a horrible thing to say!"  Gasped the shocked priest.
	"It's true though.  If I hadn't been borne she-"
	At this she fell silent and I just managed to catch her before she
slumped out of her seat.
	The priest wagged her head and watched as I laid Beverly out on the
settee.  It was obvious that Beverly's memories were too overpowering.
After making sure she was comfortable the priest called me into her study.
	"We'll have to find her birth certificate.  I'm used to stuff like
this and I know which strings to pull.  Since coming out, I've learned an
awful lot about care victims and child abuse.  I'm involved with several
organisations concerning childhood abuse.  Give me a couple of days."
	With the priests' advice and directions, Beverly and I booked into
a hotel in the gay village.  That night we went 'exploring' and she was
amazed at the freedom accorded to our kind.  She was like a child let loose
in a chocolate factory as we cruised the bars and clubs.
	It was nearly a week before the priest returned with a satisfied
smile and an older woman in tow. She had phoned me in advance and warned
me.  As we drove to the Manchester hotel to meet the woman, the priest
explained.
	"It's Beverly's older sister."
	"Phew!  I gasped.  I don't think Beverly would countenance anything
to do with her family.  This is dangerous ground!"
	"Think of it as therapy."  Argued the priest.
	I wagged my head uncertainly.
	"Your reverend.  I don't know if you've studied Beverly's'
background.  The last thing she needs is therapy, or therapists, or
psychiatrists or anything.  All she wants is be a legal entity and married
to me.  She knows her own mind believe me."
	"Well will you try.  This woman has come all the way from Devon and
she says Beverly was born as Bernard Holst in Shropshire in 1948.  Here's
the extract from the registry in Shrewsbury."
	The priest had obviously been working hard and I felt I owed it to
her to approach Beverly about the woman claiming to be her sister.  It
seemed incongruous that a lady in her late fifties could be the sibling of
such a pretty young thing as Beverly.  Time travel certainly did strange
things.  I returned to the hotel to find Beverly chatting happily to a pair
of very passable she-males in the restaurant.  It was her first independent
foray into the village life but she seemed to be taking to it like a duck
to water.  'There was hope for her yet.'  I joined them and exchanged
friendly polite introductions.
	Beverly had already 'declared' herself and they were enchanted with
her appearance.  They were also amazed and glad for her having found a
suitable partner in me and they begged to attend the wedding.
	"You'll need at least two witnesses.  They chirped."
	I was a bit wary of any publicity but Beverly seemed to be getting
bolder by the day as she immersed herself in the balmy social waters of the
village.  After sharing lunch an agreement was finally reached and I
informed Beverly about the appearance of her sister.  Strangely she was not
as paranoid as I first thought.
	"What does she look like?"  Asked Beverly.
	I described her sister who was Beverly's nearest surviving sibling.
She was a headmistress of a major public school and had remained a spinster
all her life.  Beverly pulled a wry smile as she considered meeting her.
	"She's probably intelligent enough to realise she was damaged as
well by the family set-up. Maybe she was right not to get married."
	"She seems a friendly educated woman and she desperately want's to
see you."
	"Everybody want's to see me Ruby.  If they found out I was in
Manchester the village would be overrun with reporters.  Where is she
staying?"
	I mentioned the name of a hotel outside Manchester and she shrugged
uncertainly.
	"I don't suppose it'll do any harm to go and look at her.  She'd
never recognise me as her younger brother anyway.  Come on let's do it now.
I'm curious."
	"She's got a couple of photographs of you as a young boy.  She says
you'll recognise them and that'll prove who she is."
	"Right, we'll book a couple of rooms there by phone and arrive as
residents."  Suggested Beverly.  "Then we can arrive separately a few
minutes apart."
	With the plan set up I booked in around fourish and settled at a
table in the lounge to enjoy an afternoon coffee.  Behind my tinted glasses
and wig I spotted Beverly's sister busy on a mobile phone.
	I did not need to search for Beverly's arrival. Throughout the
lounge, heads turned as she trotted up the steps.  Eyes hungrily followed
her to reception and I sighed to myself as she disappeared into the lift.
	Beverly's older sister had noticed the beautiful young lady arrive
but had not the faintest idea who she was.  I smiled to myself and
continued reading my novel until Beverly returned.  She took the table next
to me and exchanged a brief discreet glance of recognition before motioning
towards her sister.  By prearrangement I stood up and walked across the
lounge to reveal myself.
	"Miss Holst.  Miss Angela Holst?"
	"The lady stood and offered me a seat as she recognised me again."
	"Ms Denby. It's nice to meet you again.  I didn't recognise you
with your sunglasses on.  Have you any word on my brother?"
	"Well Yes.  But you must prepare yourself for big changes."
	"How so?"
	"Your brother is in the hotel as we speak."
	"The lady's face paled slightly as she peered around expectantly."
	"Where?"
	"He's looking at you.  He's still not sure whether he want's to
meet you."
	"Oh please!  Don't play games.  Where is he?"
	"It's no game Miss Holst.  Your brother is a very changed person
and a very damaged one."
	Once again her face paled as a flash of fear flickered through her
eyes.
	"He's not dangerous is he?"
	"Oh no.  He's definitely not dangerous.  But I think you should be
forewarned."
	"Why?"
	"Cast your mind back.  Why was your brother put into care?"
	Her features clouded slightly as she tried to reject the memories.
	"He was a- a- transve-."
	"A transvestite."  I finished for her softly."
	"Y- yes."  She whispered glancing nervously around.
	"It seems a bit cruel by today's standards doesn't it.  To tear a
child out of its family and dump it into a home for maladjusted children
just for wanting to wear his sister's clothes."
	She fell into a thoughtful silence as realisation flickered in her
eyes.
	"He hasn't forgiven us has he?"
	"I'm afraid not, and now the boot's on the other foot."
	"Why?"
	"You want to see him, not him you."
	She frowned slightly as she recognised her own filial needs.  As
she approached old age and with all her older siblings passed on she was
feeling lonely.  There were a few nephews and nieces but nobody who might
consider her care in her dotage.  Once again she peered around hoping to
catch sight of some vaguely recognisable man in his fifties.  Then she
wagged her head defeated.
	"You won't recognise him." I cautioned her.  "Never in a million
years will you recognise him."
	As I spoke Beverly accepted a tray of tea and biscuits for three
then she nodded imperceptibly to me.  It was our pre-arranged signal.  I
stood up and motioned courteously to Miss Holst.
	"If you'll follow me ma-am, I'll introduce you to your long lost
brother."
	She gave the lounge one last uncertain sweep before easing herself
to her feet and motioning me forward.  We crossed the few feet to Beverly's
table together then I gently pulled back a chair.  Beverly stood
courteously in respect for age.  Miss Holst stared at me uncomprehendingly.
	"What's going on?"
	"Miss Holst, may I introduce your brother, a one time Bernard Holst
now known as Miss Beverly."
	She stared uncomprehendingly at Beverly then glared at me.
	"Young ladies, don't play games with me.  I'll call the police.  If
you think this is some sort of sting or set-up to con an old lady I can
assure you I am fully compos-mentis."
	Beverly's lips tightened viciously as she whispered.
	"This is no joke Lolo."
	Miss Holst's anger evaporated instantly as she recognised Beverly's
private childhood name for his older sister.  The colour drained from her
face as she slumped into the chair I was still proffering.
	"Where did you learn that?  Where is he?  What have you done with
my brother?"
	"I am your brother Lolo!"  Hissed Beverly.
	"Let me see the photos and I'll tell you where they were taken.  If
you remember there's virtually no photos of me.  I was the pariah,
remember!"
	Nervously Miss Holst extracted the two creased and worn pictures
from her handbag and held them out for Beverly to see.  Beverly snatched
the first one and took less than a second to identify the characters.
	That was taken at a picnic in Chirk Castle grounds on your tenth
birthday.  That's you, that's William, that's Rosalind, that's father, and
those are our two cousins Hazel and Lesley.  You'll notice I wasn't in the
picture.  We were all caught in terrible thunderstorm just before that was
taken and I got a beating for getting wet.  Let me see the other one.
	Miss Holst released the second one as the dreadful realisation bore
into her skull.  Beverly nodded her head wearily.
	"My God!  You've actually got a picture of me.  That's your friend
Jackie Harris.  That's her pony with you and me sitting on its back.  She's
holding the bridle.  I was put away soon after that. They discovered me
with a pair of Jackie Harris's knickers on under my trousers.  You saw me
stealing them off their clothesline behind the barn and you told Jackie's
mother.  Everybody said it was the last straw.  I never got the chance to
thank you for dropping me in the shit.  Thanks."
	"That's not fair."  Whispered the older woman.
	"What is fair.  Nothing's fair.  Is this fair?"  Snarled Beverly as
she played her ace card and deftly removed her prosthetic hand.
	Her older sister gasped with shock and horror as the twitching
fingers caused the hand to wobble obscenely and creep across the table. I
had never seen it remain active after separation before and it looked like
some giant loathsome disfigured insect.
	It was obvious that Beverly's prosthesis was far more advanced than
the ones that my company made and they were considered a marvel of
bioengineering.  A few disgusting droplets of blood leaked from the
micro-tubes to add a final satanic touch.  The elderly woman went white
with shock and Beverly realised she might have crossed the line of decency.
Hastily she snatched the hand back and 'clicked' it back onto her wrist.
Nobody else had seen the cameo.
	"I can't forgive you Lolo.  It's no use trying."
	Her sister looked up through tearstained eyes.
	"Are you the girl from the space ship?"
	"What if I am?"
	"But you were a boy.  You were my brother.  Where did it all go
wrong?"
	"I was a boy.  I'm still a boy!  Life moves on. Nothing went
'wrong' as you call it.  I've just moved on."
	Her elderly eyes scanned Beverly's delightful female form and she
shook her head disbelievingly.
	"How could you so deform the body that God gave you?"
	"God!  God!  If there is a god then he or she gave me the wrong
body.  So much for divine infallibility."  Laughed Beverly hollowly.
	"So you've had the complete op then?"
	"What I've had is no concern of yours.  Any relationship I had with
you and that family died over forty years ago."
	"How have you managed to stay so young looking?"
	"You wouldn't understand and I'm not bothering to explain.  Just
trust me I was your brother- once."
	Beverly stood up suddenly and stared down angrily at her sister.
	"You stay with her if you want Ruby.  I'm going back to the
village."
	The woman seized my wrist in a desperate attempt to salvage any
hopes of reconciliation.  It was no use. I called to Beverly but she had
already stalked off to reception to reserve a cab.  I was left holding the
can as it were and I ordered a second pot of coffee.
	"I'd prefer tea."  Sobbed Lolo.
	I changed the order then rummaged through my bag for the precious
tape and laid it on the table.  She listened in deathly silence as the tape
revealed her brother's childhood torment and then she remained staring at
the table for several minutes before speaking again.
	"How did he- I mean she, lose her hand?"
	"It was when she was in care.  The bullies used to frighten the
vulnerable ones by making them lie down on a railway line going past the
children's home.  Beverly's transvestism was a wonderful excuse to bully
and she was also small and vulnerable.  They took great delight in making
her lie down on the track in her frocks as they heard the train coming.
	They were slow moving mineral trains and the children had time to
jump out of the way.  Then a new warden arrived from the army.  He
introduced a new variant from his time in 'special-forces' training.
Apparently they rejected him as unsuitable because he was deemed to be a
bully.
	It's typical that the army recognised his failings but social
services and the home office didn't.  He brought his knowledge and his
cruelty to the children's home.  The kids were sitting ducks.  Beverly was
the first victim - and the last.
	They handcuffed her to the rail so that she couldn't escape from
the train and she would have to lie between the rails with her arm under
the rail so that the locomotive wheels would run over the handcuff chain
and cut her free by separating her hands.  Unfortunately it was the
beginning of a new semester for a large public school in town further down
the track.  The train that appeared wasn't the regular old Puffing-Billy
with a few freight wagons but an excursion taking the school back after
vacation.  A huge express locomotive with a dozen coaches came thundering
down the track.  Beverly was ten years old and terrified.  Inevitably she
panicked and forgot what she had to do.  The train cut her hand off.
	The police found a hysterical ten-year-old boy in a blood saturated
frock aimlessly wandering in the village and trying to squeeze the stump to
stem the bleeding. He had the svered hand still hanging from the handcuffs
in his teeth. He thought it could be sown back on."
	Lolo went deathly white and gulped her tea as the shock took hold.
Eventually she whispered.
	"But surely the perpetrators-?"
	"Where never brought to book." I finished for her.  "Strings were
pulled in very high places.  Paedophile judges were blackmailed,
politicians were corrupted and arms were twisted left right and centre.
Children were being taken from care homes all the time. Some were murdered
by paedophiles; some were used for unlicensed medical experiments that left
them permanently damaged.  What difference was one more maimed little
transvestite pervert?  What loss to society?
	Believe me Beverly has nothing to thank you for.  It was your
reporting her for the clothesline incident that finished it for her.  Did
you ever see her again after she was put away?"
	"No."
	"Did you know she absconded from the home just before her twelfth
birthday?"
	"No."
	"Did you know she lived as a beggar and child prostitute on the
streets for nearly two years?"
	"No."
	"Did you know she was captured and kept like an animal in a remote
barn to be prostituted out to paedophiles by a rich farmer?"
	"No."
	"You don't know much about her do you- and you're her only living
sister."
	"But I was only a child myself."
	"You're five or six years older than her.  She was nine when they
put her away.  You didn't see her for nearly three years.  That would have
made you seventeen or even eighteen when she disappeared.  Weren't you
curious?  Didn't you wonder where your little brother had gone?  Didn't
anybody ask any questions?"
	She stared dumbly at the floor, obviously embarrassed at having her
insensitivity exposed.  My anger swelled up as I continued my attack.
	"Don't you read the newspapers?  Didn't you realise that the
paedophile scandal that destroyed the government last year revolved around
your very own brother?  You must have realised from the dates and the
names.  It was splashed across the headlines for months."
	I hammered out the questions as my anger boiled inside me.  It
sickened me to think that a person as uncaring as this should be deemed fit
to run a large public school.  Unable to face her anymore, I found myself
mirroring Beverly's anger and turned to swivel angrily on my heel.  The
last I saw was a weeping old maid being approached by the waiter to ask if
she was feeling all right.
	"My God!"  I cursed silently as I watched the waiter comfort the
old witch.  "It was sickening to think how appearances could deceive."