Fracture

By Wayne Austin

AUS/UK Edition

Titz wants a baby again and Gyro can’t see the point. Wasn’t it bad enough when she lost the first one thanks to Fracture? And why now, when that born-again woman-hater is back in their life? Gyro wants to help his latest victim, Elanora Blakey, the wealthy centenarian, even though Titz hates her pretending to be the befuddled old woman’s long lost friend. But Yellow Peril needs the money. That’s all. Honest!

To find Fracture, Gyro must work with NISA agent, Matt Bolton, God’s gift to women. He’s sure he can turn any lesbian back from the dark side. But though Titz hates him, she will only agree if she can use Elanora’s virgin regenerator to create a special baby.

As for Matt Bolton, he knows Fracture is a man, even though his boss insists the cyber terrorist is Pandora, daughter of missing scientist, Ikmael h’Mourhan. And now, with Gyro’s help, he can prove it and uncover the president’s dirty little secret. All he has to do is control himself.

The delectable Carla has a secret too, but is it worth the price to find out?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Mar 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9781447817413

Book preview

PROLOGUE

‘Jesus, Fracture!’ Titz snapped. ‘What are you trying to do? Kill my baby?’

Gyro glanced across at Titz and winced as her pregnant partner squeezed her hand in a squirrel grip that’d make a grown man squeal like a pig. Lucky she wasn’t a man. She cocked her eyebrows in a cheeky grin to lighten the mood, but Titz just scowled and tugged on the seat belt to loosen it around her slight belly. She hadn’t wanted to come on Fracture’s little adventure, but Gyro had teased her into it. There were bound to be some bars out in the sticks where a lonely city girl could find some company for the night, unless....

The four-wheel drive Nerada bounced out of yet another pothole in one of the ruts corrugating the gravel road and raced toward the ominous blackness ahead. Titz grimaced as the seat belt’s sash dug into her hips. Well, it served her right for wanting to have a baby. In the driver’s seat, Fracture snorted and jerked the steering wheel. The Nerada wriggled sideways, and its rear fishtailed for a moment, electric engine screaming, before the tires gripped and jolted them back on course. Titz turned to Gyro, eyes pleading for her to do something and save them from this madman even though they were all friends and founders of the Yellow Peril.

Gyro rolled her eyes and laughed. This was fun! Just like the good ol’ days that weren’t so long ago. This was how life was supposed to be and had been until Titz got all serious about the Yellow Peril and wanting to make it a success. And that had triggered something in her ... a desperation to protect the future. Their future.

‘Relax, girl! I swear! That baby will be the death of you. I don’t know why anyone’d want a baby; they cramp your style. Anyway,’ she reached over to squeeze Titz’s knee, ‘you’ve got me.’

Titz gave her that stupid look again, like she wasn’t so sure. Always that same fear. Why couldn’t Titz believe her when she said she’d never leave her? She was committed to their relationship. They didn’t have to get ‘married’ and have a baby and pretend to be normal to make their love real. Gyro pouted to put Titz at ease and then smirked as Fracture turned his head to stare at Titz with the look of a cat playing with a mouse it had just caught.

‘Now isn’t this fun, my dear?’ he asked in a menacing baritone. His grin lit up his rakish good looks and the whites of his crazed eyes glowed in a sudden flicker of lightning overhead. The crack of thunder ripped through the Nerada’s interior like a firecracker going off amongst the four of them, and it squiggled as the right-hand-side wheels left the road and dug into mud.

Titz screamed and jabbed her finger ahead. ‘Keep your damned eyes on the road!’

Fracture just laughed as he turned back and twisted the steering wheel while flooring the accelerator at the same time. The Nerada shuddered and fought back. Then, without slowing down, it whipped left onto twin brown lines and raced straight toward the steep crest of a low rise, crowned with a swirling mass of ominous grey and greenish-black cloud. For once, a sense of foreboding came over Gyro. A flash of lightning lit up the straggly trees that bordered the green pasture’s fence-line and made them look like weird alien monsters threatening them as they shot past in the gloom, while up ahead, spiralling tendrils danced off the cloud’s leading edges like ribbons streaming from the fingers of a giant grey ghost. To the far left, a funnel sprouted to the ground behind the rise and began to drift right. Titz gasped.

‘Yes!’ Fracture sang and the Nerada punched toward the swirling funnel, back wheels slipping and fighting to maintain any grip. ‘Looks like a Two.’

Then the back swung around in a great arc. The Nerada slid to a stop amid Titz’s squeal, just twenty or so metres shy of the crest and facing back the way they had come.

Fracture grinned across at Crank, the fourth member of the party. ‘Just in case we have to make a quick getaway.’ With that, he flung his door open and scrambled out.

Overhead, the dull afternoon sky darkened with the approaching cloud and the wind picked up leaves and twigs and hurled them at the Nerada. The clean smell of rain permeated the air and the temperature dropped. Fracture pulled out a pair of yellow shades from his shirt pocket and slid them on before staring up at the crest. For a moment he stopped to adjust the stereo lenses attached to each side of his shades and looked back to film Crank, Gyro and then Titz.

‘Coming?’ His left eyebrow cocked above his shades and his smile mocked them and dared them to join him.

‘Uh,’ Gyro glanced at Titz and squeezed her hand to reassure her, ‘I think we’ll wait for your cinematic masterpiece to be released.’

Fracture pouted and stared expectantly at Crank. ‘What about you, ol’ buddy?’

A beep chimed on a little box that Crank held. He looked down and frowned. ‘The electric field’s rising. You better get back in the car, Frac. We can wait a few minutes.’ He twiddled his free hand, its gloved fingers tapdancing on his knees. ‘Radar shows this cell will clear us in a moment. C’mon, man, you don’t want to get struck by lightning, do you?’ The little box beeped again, louder.

‘Get in the car, Frac,’ Gyro called out.

‘But that would be an act of God.’ Fracture laughed and turned away to scramble up the slippery rise. ‘And since I don’t believe in God,’ he yelled back over his shoulder, ‘how can he hurt me?’

‘Men!’ Titz growled. ‘The sooner evolution does away with the Y chromosome, the better off we’ll all be!’

Gyro smirked as Crank grunted to agree and glanced across at where Titz scowled through gritted teeth. But Titz didn’t hate men. Just those obnoxious ones who tried to hit on Gyro and thought it a smear on their honour that she preferred women to them.

Rain splattered the roof and the wind whipped up into a frenzy. Fracture reached the crest and stood staring at the tornado while it ambled past, oblivious to his presence. Gyro watched his live feed on her shades as the twister ripped up bushes and stripped trees and flung the detritus into the air. Then her skin tingled, and her hair stood on end. Crank and Titz screamed at Fracture to get down as Crank’s box chimed a ballistic staccato. The sky lit up in a blinding flash.

Crack!

Titz screamed. Gyro joined her and they grabbed each other. All around, the world went nuts. The wind howled for mercy and night descended early. Another crack of lightning, further away, split the darkness. Fracture had disappeared from the horizon.

‘Shit!’ Crank threw his door open and scrambled out. ‘Frac’s been struck!’

‘Fuck,’ Gyro mumbled and pulled free to open her door.

Titz grabbed for her. ‘Where are you going?’

‘To help Crank. We have to get Fracture to a hospital.’ She covered her mouth with her hand and stared at Titz in horror. ‘I hope he’s not dead,’ she whispered, sick at the thought.

‘Don’t go,’ Titz pleaded as Gyro clambered out. The heavens opened up with pelting rain. ‘It’s dangerous, you could get struck by lightning too.’

Gyro held up a palm to ward her off. ‘Stay there,’ she ordered although Titz hadn’t moved. ‘We’ll be back in a second.’

She scurried up the rise and dropped to her knees as she reached Crank, kneeling on one knee before a lifeless shape. The rain lashed them in a drenching cold. Crank pulled Fracture into a sitting position and got his head under one arm while she wedged herself under the other, and they dragged him toward the Nerada, but his feet just dragged in the mud as they slithered and teetered from side to side.

Gyro slid into the car and eased along its side until she felt the rear door’s handle. Crank jerked it open and shrugged Fracture into the back seat before shoving him up against Titz and climbing in. Gyro scrambled into the driver’s seat and turned to stare at the sodden, dying body, the cold water leaching out the last remaining vestiges of this man she had only known a couple of years, almost as long as she had been with Titz, who should take control and do something, like she always did. Instead, Titz shivered and pulled back as far as she could. Her hand went to her belly as if to protect her baby from the dying throes of its father. Fracture’s head rolled sideways, and his dull, lifeless eyes leered past Titz, and Gyro gasped at the jagged red welt that ran down the side of his face from his brow, where the camera had been, and followed where the microphone lead had pressed against his skin.

And then he moaned, soft and low, almost inaudible. Or was it a whimper? A plea for help from one friend to another?

‘Go, go, go!’ Crank screamed as Gyro twisted around and slammed her door shut. The Nerada’s engine sprang to life, then golf ball-sized hail rained down and the Nerada drummed, an incessant pounding that drowned out the high-pitched whine. They jerked forward and raced for the gravel road. Gyro peered through the dents and scratches in the plasglass windscreen while the wipers flailed at chunks of ice. She swung onto the gravel road and fought to travel in a straight line.

‘You’re gonna be okay, mi amigo. I swear,’ she heard Crank say in a trembling voice. Then Fracture gurgled. ‘He’s having a seizure!’ Crank yelled. ‘Titz, call an ambulance. Titz! Titz!’

Gyro gunned the accelerator and risked a glance in the rear-view mirror as Fracture arched his back. Titz was scrunched up against her door, as far away as she could get from Fracture, and looking like she was deathly afraid of catching some dreaded plague from his flailing arms. Why had she talked her into going on this insane trip? All she wanted was to go back to their old life. Carefree and one long party. She didn’t want to settle down, just be loved for who she was. Gyro blinked a tear from her eye. Why did Fracture have to get hit by lightning?

She glanced in the mirror again just in time to see him spasm in Crank’s grasp. His right arm lashed out and smacked Titz across the chin as if to punish her for not caring and it seemed to galvanize her. Crank grabbed the arm to tie it down and held on tight while Fracture writhed. ‘Call an ambulance,’ he yelled at Titz.

‘O-okay.’ She tapped her shades and mumbled to someone. ‘They’ve dispatched one,’ she called out. ‘They should meet us, just after we reach the highway. Turn right.’

A shaft of sunlight stabbed through the clouds, less ominous now that the rain had stopped, and Gyro risked another look in the mirror. A divine aura bathed Fracture’s head. Water still dribbled from his matted hair and ran down along the red welt. Titz reached out to touch it, perhaps asking for a blessing or for forgiveness.

Fracture jerked and seized again.

* * *

The antiseptic old building was a sprawl of concrete and glass from late last century. Once the privileged benefactor of those who could afford medical insurance, it was now the last port of call for those who had no other choice. Gyro fumed. Fracture shouldn’t be here, but his policy didn’t cover ‘Acts of Stupidity’ as outlined in the unfathomable English buried in the multitude of claustrophobic clauses. And it was the closest hospital. Time had been of the essence.

Had been.

When Fracture was admitted, he had been checked to make sure he was stable and then left to fend for himself. No insurance? Get on the end of the line. That was a week ago.

Gyro punched the water button on the grimy vending machine and held it in, while lukewarm water dribbled into the paper cup and swirled around, mixing the contents into a turgid brown concoction. The brown and the stale smell wafting up hinted at the truth behind this ersatz coffee. True coffee, made from ground up beans imported from South America and roasted with a connoisseur’s loving care — coffee like she used to have with her parents before they split up and sold their souls, each in their own way — coffee like that swelled your heart and painted pure bliss on your face.

Three-quarters full, she released the button and took a sip. And grimaced. Those days are long gone, girl. They don’t want you back.

With that reminder of the last time she had seen her parents, she wound her way across the visitor’s lounge, easing past the gurneys with bodies waiting for treatment, let alone a bed. At least Fracture had that now. She sank into the chair next to Titz and offered the coffee with a shrug.

Titz shook her head and stared past at the wardroom’s doors. ‘God, the toilets in here are disgusting. When can we see him? The sooner we can go, the happier I’ll be.’

‘Titz—!’

‘Soon,’ Crank muttered. ‘I got Jojo and Hyper to spook the doctors’ schedules. I’ve kept an eye on ours. One more patient and then we’re up.’

Titz scowled and rubbed her belly through her tee shirt although there was hardly a bulge to show. ‘Are you slipping, Crank? Can’t crack an old dump like this?’

He ignored her barb and instead stuck his hand inside his jacket to rummage in a pocket. ‘It’s beneath my dignity.’ He pulled out a yellow aeriol, popped it in his mouth and bit down on the cheesy, chocolaty, puffed soya snack. ‘Anyway,’ he sucked to free some of the goo stuck to his teeth, ‘I have to take it easy. I’m more pregnant than you.’ He rubbed his small potbelly, imitating Titz, and chuckled at Gyro. Then he looked past and his smile faded. ‘Here comes Panarkis. We’re up, but don’t expect too much.’ With that he stood up with a forced smile. ‘Hey Doc, good to see you.’

Gyro grabbed Titz’s hand and squeezed it as she followed Crank to her feet. ‘How’s Frac?’ she asked.

‘Can we see him now?’ Titz demanded.

Panarkis plucked off his shades and a flicker crossed his bland facade. ‘For a short while, but,’ he hesitated, ‘don’t get your hopes up, he suffered a bad injury.’

‘You can repair the brain damage though,’ Crank said, more as a suggestion.

‘How...?’ Then the doctor’s mouth tightened a fraction as he stared at Crank’s shades. ‘We have a limited Community Health budget and—’

‘What? You’re not going to treat him?’ Titz glared at Panarkis like a caged tiger ready to pounce the minute the cage door swung open.

He took a defensive half-step back. ‘We do what we can, but the injury to his right cerebral cortex—’

‘His inferior prefrontal cortex,’ Crank said, his fingers wriggling by his side, ‘not to mention his amygdala, whatever that is. Hmm, interesting.’

Panarkis frowned. ‘That’s patient information! It’s private—’

‘We only want the truth,’ Titz snapped.

‘Not bullshit to put us at ease,’ Gyro added to put some force into Titz’s demand and show their solidarity. ‘Just how bad is it? Can he be healed?’

Panarkis hesitated. His glance flicked from her to Titz and back and then, with a resigned half-shrug behind dead-tired eyes, he gave in. ‘We’ve done all we can—’

‘Which isn’t much by the look of it,’ said Crank, still scanning Fracture’s medical record.

Panarkis sniffed. ‘His injury is most unusual. When the lightning struck his headcam, it entered to the side of his brow and affected part of the brain not normally injured by a lightning strike to the head. We’ve gotten him past the initial apathy and depression and recovered his motor functions, but....’

‘What’s this about him becoming a born-again Christian?’ Crank pushed his shades up to stare at the doctor.

Gyro’s throat tightened. ‘Just what we need,’ she muttered, more to herself than Titz, ‘another one of those.’

‘Unfortunately, injuries like this can lead to quite significant personality changes. Normally, this results in psychopathic behaviour and the inability to make morally and socially acceptable decisions, but in Mister Turner’s case,’ Panarkis pursed his lips, ‘he has found God. And I’m afraid,’ he shrugged, ‘it’s not for the better. In fact, you may not recognize him as your friend.’

‘Can’t you do anything?’ Titz asked, her soft voice trembling. Gyro squeezed her arm to offer some solace.

‘Even if he had insurance and was in the best hospital, there’s only so much we can do. In time, with medication and the latest microsurgery techniques, he might recover some of his previous personality, but for now, and as far as we are concerned, as long as he can look after himself, he’ll be released in another week, maybe two. It depends on whether — on how long it takes to get his epileptic seizures under control.’

Titz frowned. ‘But—’

‘I’m sorry.’ Panarkis stepped aside and waved them toward the ward entrance. ‘He’s by the fire escape. On the right. It’s where we keep our difficult patients.’

With that, he thrust his shades onto his nose, turned toward the exit and pushed his way past some more visitors. Almost, it seemed, as if he was anxious to get away.

* * *

Gyro pulled the curtain back and squeezed along the side of the bed to make room for Titz and Crank. Muffled voices filled the air with the soft murmur of false hope. In the next cubicle, Hispanic voices, all women, danced to staccato melodies of welcome before dying to a whisper. A faint whiff of urine and vomit caressed the air. Titz pressed up against Gyro and grasped her hand while they waited for Fracture to break the ice. Instead, a stranger with catheters inserted into his left arm and hand, and with small, round electrodes stuck to his shaved head, stared up at her, and then glanced at Titz before coming to rest on Crank with a puzzled frown.

‘I ... I know you.’ He grimaced as if trying hard to remember and then his frown faded when it dawned on him who they were. But instead of a warm smile, he glared at Gyro and Titz. ‘You are the ones who led me astray.’

‘What are you talking about?’ asked Gyro.

‘We’re your friends,’ said Titz, miffed.

‘Fracture.’ Crank edged past to the head of the bed and pushed a tray on a swing-arm out of the way. Some of the orange liquid in a plastic cup spilt as he reached over to squeeze Fracture’s shoulder to reassure him. ‘Everything’ll be okay, you’ll see. Hey, ol’ buddy, relax, the cavalry’s here.’

Fracture pulled away and brushed Crank’s hand off his shoulder like it was a fly. ‘God has punished me and shown me the light! Everything is clear now. The world is full of evil.’ His voice rose to a shrill peak. ‘Evil!’ The background noise died. ‘Man has fallen! Ever since Eve caused Adam to be cast out from the Garden of Eden. Even the sacrifice of our Lord, Jesus Christ, has not stopped the spread of evil from reaching its climax today.

‘And you!’ He pointed at Gyro, then Titz. ‘Women have been the cause. Ever since they gave up bearing children to interfere in the affairs of man.’

‘Hey Frac.’ Crank gave a nervous chuckle and glanced at Gyro. ‘He’s joking. You know what he’s like.’

But Fractures eyes were wide and there was nothing but hatred and disgust within them. His top lip curled up in a sneer. ‘Satan has infiltrated our society through the Ultranet. God has shown me! The governments of the world have joined with all the multinationals in a conspiracy run by Jews and homosexuals and women and all the weird sexual deviants to pervert mankind from the way of God. The communists will make a comeback to set up an evil empire where babies will be crucified—’

Crank reached out to grab Fracture’s arm, but Fracture slipped past and scrambled to the end of the bed. The tubes in his arm protested.

‘I will stop you—’ He yanked the tubes from his arm and hand and then wrenched the electrodes from his scalp. Gyro stared at the small scabs on the side of his skull and shuddered at the thought of undergoing microsurgery on her brain. In the distance a faint dinging sounded.

‘Grab him!’ Crank called, but Titz hesitated. Gyro reached past her, but Fracture slipped off the bed and yanked open the door to a small cupboard.

‘Please, Frac, what are you doing?’ She hustled Titz to move. ‘Titz! Block him.’

Fracture pulled out a plastic bag with a blue shirt poking out, the same shirt he was wearing when he had been struck.

‘You can’t go, Frac.’ Gyro gave Titz a shove. Why was she so reluctant to move? ‘You still need treatment.’

‘This is stupid,’ Titz grumbled, but she moved to the end of the bed. ‘Where are the nurses? It’s their job to restrain him.’

Crank lunged over the bed and pulled supports, holding plastic containers filled with clear liquid, down on himself as he got tangled up in the wires and tubes, but Fracture backpedalled out of reach. He wrenched the curtains apart and looked down the ward. Titz threw out a half-hearted arm to block him.

‘Mister Turner,’ a woman’s voice, full of authority, called out from the far end of the ward, ‘where do you think you are going? Get back into bed.’ Along the ward, people shuffled out from behind curtains to watch the show.

Fracture reeled around and darted for the fire escape.

‘Stop him!’ Crank cried out.

Gyro shoved Titz. ‘Move! Grab him before he gets away.’

Titz resisted for a moment and then gave in. ‘Fracture!’ She lunged and caught hold of his arm before he could step through the door.

He turned and caught her in a hug. ‘You!’ He glanced over her shoulder at Gyro. ‘The two of you are the worst of all. Women homosexuals! Ye shall burn in the fires of hell for all eternity!’ He wrestled Titz out into the stairwell.

Gyro charged after him. This wasn’t about Fracture now. This person wasn’t even Fracture anymore. And he had Titz. She crashed into the door as it swung shut and elbowed her way back through to see them teetering on the edge of the stairwell.

‘Let go!’ Titz cried, trying to break free.

‘And you!’ Fracture’s face filled with loathing. ‘What you carry is not my child, it is the Devil’s spawn.’

Gyro hesitated. Not that damned baby. Why did Titz have to ruin their nice little existence by wanting—? She bit her lip. What a stupid thing to think when Titz was in danger. Anyway, it was what Titz wanted.

Fracture and Titz wobbled.

‘No!’ Gyro leapt forward, but as she crashed into them, Fracture pivoted and Titz slipped from his grasp. She screamed as she tumbled down the stairs and crashed onto the next stairwell. Fracture wrenched free but lost his footing and fell. He landed on top of Titz’s stomach with a thud, then rolled over her and scrambled to his feet to dash down the next set of stairs.

‘Titz!’ Gyro screamed and started down the stairs. ‘Help! Help!’

The door above burst open and two nurses dashed in. ‘Oh my Lord!’ one muttered. She tapped her fingers. ‘Emergency, third floor, fire escape. Doctor Panarkis, please come to the third floor fire escape. Now!’ The two nurses pushed past to fuss over the unconscious Titz.

Gyro turned to look down the stairs, but Fracture was gone.

‘Shit!’ Crank hissed.

She looked up at him, standing at the top of the stairs, staring at Titz and just as impotent as she was. Panarkis blundered past him, followed by a couple of orderlies carting a stretcher. Gyro dragged herself up the stairs and stared at Crank. What had just happened?

Then Titz moaned. ‘Gyro!’ she called out and a nurse tried to calm her and ease her onto a stretcher. ‘Oh! My stomach. What about the baby?’ She screamed and clutched at her belly, her face screwed up in pain.

‘Are you pregnant?’ Panarkis asked.

‘Yes,’ Titz wheezed.

‘How long?’

‘Ooh!’ Titz moaned and tried to sit up.

‘Hold her down,’ Panarkis ordered and then he looked up at Crank as if he was the father. ‘How long?’

‘Six weeks,’ Gyro said in a flat voice. It was just supposed to be a harmless adventure. A little fun.

Panarkis went stony-faced and made a call. ‘Get me Obstetrics. We have an emergency, a woman six weeks pregnant, in a fall.’ He waved at the orderlies to lift Titz up and carry her down the stairs. ‘We’re on our way.’

* * *

Gyro sat in the chair next to Titz’s bed in her private room and stared out the window. This hospital was a far cry from the one where Fracture had been treated. Titz’s broken arm was on the mend and apart from concussion, a fractured rib and bruising, there was only one piece of bad news. She had lost the baby. Gyro tried to fathom why she felt more relieved than anything.

She snuck a guilty glance at Titz. But Titz was dead to the world, thanks to the sedatives prescribed.

You’ll get over the baby. Maybe it’s for the best.

Gyro bit her lip and stared out the window again. Time was a great healer. She sucked in her top lip and blinked away the tears forming in her eyes. Why did Titz need a baby when she had her? What was going to happen to them now? Fracture was the linchpin who had held their site together, but with Titz suffering from depression and Crank lost in his own little world of misery, now his best friend was gone for good, someone had to take his place.

And that someone had to be Gyro. She sat up and squared her shoulders. Crank and Titz might be more skilled and have more experience than her, but she had talent and was a reasonable cracker in her own right. Yes, it was time she took over the responsibility of leading the Yellow Peril through this hard time.

She leaned over and squeezed Titz’s hand. We’ll get through this, you’ll see. And our love will be stronger. I swear. And in times like these, a baby was the last thing they needed.

Gyro nodded to herself. Yes, maybe it was for the best.

CHAPTER 1

‘Congratulations, Elanora, you have cancer!’ Doctor Friedmann pulled off his white shades and beamed a delighted smile at his patient. ‘There were a few natural cancers, but we’ve eliminated those.’

Elanora Blakey suppressed a grimace and managed a tired smile. It was good of her doctor to visit in person and give her the news. So often the human touch was missing in medicine these days, not like when she was a young woman and doctors were actually hands on with their patients. But the news was old hat.

‘Thank you, Doctor, for making it official.’ She winced and tried to shuffle her hips to a more comfortable position. Her right hand, withered and wrinkled and spotted with age, edged over to a small remote control on her bedside table and pressed a button. The pain faded but didn’t disappear. It never did.

Doctor Friedmann frowned — caring but a little unsure. ‘You are in pain? Where?’

Elanora’s hand managed little circles to wave him off. ‘It ... it’s nothing. It’s my right hip, ever since the second replacement, I always have problems with it when I have to lie on my back for long periods.’

‘Really? You didn’t mention that in your interview.’

‘It wasn’t ever that bad until just after they installed that,’ she managed a glance at the rectangular column next to her bed, ‘the VGE, and stuck the tubes into ... down there.’

‘Oh?’

Elanora shrugged. ‘They had some trouble finding my veins and they had to move me around quite a bit. I think they might have strained something.’

‘You should have mentioned it.’ Doctor Friedmann squeezed his lips into a mock stern frown. ‘I can’t have my oldest patient suffering unnecessarily, can I?’ He stood up and eased her blankets back until they were bunched up over her knees. ‘I’ll just do a quick examination.’

He worked her nightgown up over her hips and his hands hesitated over her diaper, but a glance to the Chinese nurse seated by the door returned a reassuring nod that he wouldn’t encounter anything untoward.

‘I insisted that Hui-Ling change me before you came.’

‘Of course,’ Doctor Friedmann muttered and released the diaper’s stays.

He pulled the thin data-glove off his right hand and eased both hands under her hips, gently probing and pressing with his fingers. ‘My goodness! There isn’t much of you, is there?’ He chuckled to himself. ‘In fact, I can feel some of the tumours. They’re like tiny grains with a nice even spread. Oh ... yes. Your right hip doesn’t feel aligned with your left. I’ll get a physiotherapist over this afternoon.’ He resealed her diaper, pulled her nightgown down and the blankets up.

With that, he sat back down. After pulling his shades on and donning his glove, his fingers danced on his knee for a moment. ‘Done. Two-thirty this afternoon. Just think,’ he pulled his shades off again, ‘in a year’s time, all these problems will be a distant memory, thanks to this.’

He reached over and patted the top of the Zhan-Ebert VirGenErator’s beige cover. On its front panel, narrow lines of yellow and green LEDs shone with a soft, comforting glow and from its side a bundle of tubes snaked out and separated, some going to Elanora’s neck, some to her arms and others disappearing under her blankets. A green light blinked to yellow and the colour in one tube grew redder.

‘These will revolutionize medicine.’ A wistful smile came over his face. ‘My grandfather was a doctor. Did you know? Patients used to go to him all the time and he always examined them. Touching them, taking their blood pressure, listening to what their bodies had to say. Examining you reminded me of him. Back then, doctors even visited patients in their homes.’ He chuckled and shook his head. ‘It looks like we’ve come full circle.

‘But with this,’ he sighed, staring at the VirGenErator, ‘there won’t be much need for doctors like my grandfather. Or me. And hospitals? They’ll just be emergency centres. Yes,’ he sat back and shrugged, ‘once we install one of these, everything is done over the Ultranet. All I’ll have to do is check its reports and adjust a few parameters. If I’m lucky, I’ll get to do some programming to cover one of the few conditions not handled by its library.’

Elanora closed her eyes and let the doctor babble. Oh to be young again. Who would have believed it? Certainly no one when she was young. And if it meant suffering a little pain, that wasn’t such a high price to pay.

‘Oh well, I guess that’s progress. Ah....’ Doctor Friedmann patted Elanora’s hand and her eyes jerked open. ‘I’m forgetting myself. I’ll let you get some rest, but I promise to stop in and see you every now and then.’ He stood up and after an awkward pause, shuffled toward the door.

Elanora closed her eyes and let herself drift off. The good doctor had managed to reduce the pain in her hip, at least enough to get some sleep, which said something for the old-style of doctoring. I wonder what his grandfather was like? She smiled to herself.

* * *

The days passed in a daze. At ninety-seven nothing ever surprised Elanora, but she had to admit: that pain management system was a godsend. It didn’t numb her mind and make her feel like she was smothered in a thick vagueness like other systems she had used. Sort of there, but not there. At least, now she only had the vagaries of old age to contend with. The only things she could focus on with absolute clarity were her memories, her old, old memories. Funny how she had become so used to that underlying pain, which had plagued her for so many years that she had almost forgotten it even existed. When it lifted, she was filled with such euphoria. Like that first time she tried marijuana.

They were half drunk, Kathy and she, giggling drunk. Fifteen years and seven months each, though Kathy was a week older. Kathy dared her. Kathy always dared her. Such a wild girl....

Elanora smiled as she half-dozed and immersed herself once more in those far off, halcyon days; those innocent days between fourteen and nineteen, from when she first met Kathy to the day Kathy died. The cruel memory wiped the smile from her face. She was just nineteen— The Dean told her Kathy had died in a car crash and Kathy’s parents wouldn’t let her see the body. Not even at the funeral. So strange that. Said she was burned beyond recognition, and it was better to remember her as she was. But Kathy’s parents....

A soft moan wheezed from Elanora’s lips. They always disapproved of Kathy’s wild ways, and it didn’t matter if it was the Age of Aquarius, the age of free love and freedom....

Elanora slipped away into her favourite fantasy. She was young again and had just tracked down Kathy, who was still alive after having been spirited away against her will. They fell on each other in a loving embrace and after Kathy was rejuvenated, they lived together, just like they did in boarding school and in college — young, silly teenage fools. Forever happy....

‘Ms Blakey,’ a familiar voice called from a distance.

Elanora stirred and opened her eyes. Hui-Ling stood, bending over her, gently shaking her shoulder. She blinked and tried to remember where she was and then reality insinuated itself back into her life.

‘Yes?’ she asked in a foggy voice through her oxygen mask. She twitched her nose to get at the itch caused by the small tube running up her left nostril.

‘Doctor Friedmann is here.’

‘Oh?’

The nurse moved aside, and Doctor Friedmann sat down next to Elanora, smiling as he reached over to give her hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

Elanora struggled to get her thought processes working. Her mind was a mass of cobwebs. This Doctor Friedmann looked familiar, a bit like Edward, her nephew on Walter’s side, but a little thinner in the cheeks and his eyes weren’t as rat-like. And hadn’t he visited her before? She crinkled her brow as she tried to remember.

‘How are we today, Elanora?’ Of course! She knew that voice. ‘No pain, I trust?’

‘Oh Doctor!’ She let out a relieved chuckle and Doctor Friedmann leaned forward to hear her better. ‘I’ve never felt better. This new pain machine is a miracle! Every time I feel an ache or twinge, I just press the button and the pain goes away. Even the hunger now that eating is so difficult.’

‘I’ve noticed how, over the last three months, you’ve slowly upped the levels. But there’s no need to worry. With all those tumours growing in your body, it’s to be expected. Did you know? Even though we’ve doubled your body weight, half of you is made up of tumours.’ Then he smiled. ‘But we’re going to do something about that. Today, we start Stage Two. It’s time to turn those cancer cells into stem cells so we can begin to regenerate your body, and when you’re strong enough, we can operate to replace those few parts we can’t regrow.’

He squeezed her hand once more, then sat back, pulled his shades down over his eyes and tapped a couple of times on his knee. Several LEDs on the VGE flickered from green to blue while chunks of orange LEDs turned yellow. The fluids in a few tubes changed colour, some growing darker, while others grew clear.

‘Done!’ With a self-satisfied smirk, he stood up. ‘I must dash, so I’ll leave those retroviruses and prions to do their work. In a couple of months, I expect to see quite a difference.’

‘Thank you, Doctor.’ The words were music to her ears, but already her eyelids were growing heavy. It was time to visit Kathy again. Not long now....

* * *

At first, nothing much happened. A month or two passed by in a gentle blur and then one day Elanora woke up and felt so much more alive. That was the best she could explain it. The tightness in her chest that made breathing so difficult, where each breath was shallow and almost required a conscious effort, had faded away almost overnight. She sucked in a deep breath, tentative at first and then deeper, although her ribcage protested, and revelled in the flush of oxygen as it coursed through her blood.

‘Nurse ... nurse!’ Her voice was still weak, but it boomed in her ears.

The door to her bedroom opened and the nurse rushed in — this one Chinese by the look of her, and vaguely familiar.

‘Yes, Ms Blakey?’ Hui-Ling’s voice was louder and less muffled than it used to be, and it had a trace of a Mid-West accent. ‘Is something wrong?’ She reached Elanora’s side and began to fuss over her, checking where the tubes entered her body. ‘Do you want to be changed?’

‘It’s my lungs. I can breathe!’ Elanora sucked in a deep breath to prove it and broke into a fit of harsh coughing.

‘Easy. Easy, Ms. Blakey. I know, I’ve monitored your improved oxygen uptake over the past week.’

‘But my ribs hurt! Here and here.’ She eased her hands up to the side of her ribs, just under the flaps of skin that were the remains of her breasts. She paused for a second. It hadn’t taken as much effort as she had expected to move her hands. ‘All ... all around, it feels so tight.’

‘Ah! That’s good, very good. Your lung function is improving.’ The nurse smiled, her round face revealing a good-natured cheerfulness. ‘The respiratory and circulation systems are the first phase of Stage Two. After breakfast and when you’ve rested, I’ll measure your lung volume and blood flow, and then we can begin some gentle exercises to improve your breathing. But first I’ll do some stretching around your chest to see if I can ease the constriction. Tell me if it hurts too much.’

With that, the nurse pulled the blankets back, then placed her hands either side of Elanora’s rib cage and squeezed lightly. Elanora sucked in a shallow breath and clamped her mouth shut. It was only pain. Pain was an old friend. But still.... Elanora tried to stifle a groan. It seemed that this rejuvenation process wasn’t going to be as pain free as she had expected.

CHAPTER 2

‘Oh Titz!’ Gyro ripped off her shades and slumped back on the lounge. Sometimes a one-bedroom apartment with kitchenette and walk-in pantry just wasn’t big enough for the two of them. Not when Titz’s biological alarm clock was going berserk. Again.

Titz stopped her soft mumbling and sat up from where she had been hunched over next to Gyro, then wriggled her shoulders as she arched her back. ‘It’s okay! I’ve only got two more to go after this one.’

‘But why go to all this trouble? Crank’s offered. You know his pedigree.’ What a waste of an evening. She eased behind Titz and began to massage her neck. With a smile and eyes closed, Titz pushed back as Gyro dug her fingers in. ‘And what makes you think you’ll find someone suitable in these last two? None of the other sperm banks had any donors you were happy with.’

Titz sighed. ‘This time, I want it to be from someone I don’t know so they can’t.... Anyway, after the contamination of twenty-nine, the banks only take donations from guys who can pass the new tests. And with sperm counts in free fall worldwide, most of the local donations seem to come from a small group of men and none of them impress me at all.’

‘What does it matter? It’s not like we can get a donation anyway, thanks to our new government.’ Gyro lowered her voice and put on a stern face. ‘The government for some of the people some of the time.’

Titz laughed and reached back to rub Gyro’s hand. ‘Maybe, if I cut my hair and dressed like a man—’

‘A rather effeminate man. More of a boy, I’d say. But wouldn’t that make me a paedophile?’

‘I could stick on a fake moustache.’ Titz squeezed Gyro’s hand. ‘Then we could get married like we were planning to. All I need to do is fake up a birth certificate and sneak in a Citizen Registration.’

‘You’ll have to shove a stick of salami down your pants so that everyone can see why I’m marrying you.’

Titz fell back against Gyro and pouted. ‘Sadly, there’s no heat in my meat and I can get a medical certificate to prove it.’ Gyro snorted and Titz jabbed her in the ribs, making her squeal. ‘It’ll be as valid as my birth certificate. And with it, we can have our choice of any donor we want ... and all without breaking any of the government’s new rules.’

She twisted to rest her cheek on Gyro’s shoulder and her hand teased its way up, over Gyro’s yellow tee shirt, until it reached a mound with a nub on top. Titz offered up her mouth as her fingers toyed with the nipple.

‘Then we can be a real family,’ she whispered, her eyes half closed.

‘But we—’ Gyro bit off her retort and leaned forward to return the kiss. With a shrug, she kissed Titz harder as her own hand crept down to undo the ties on Titz’s pants. This was something new: making up before the fight.

* * *

Gyro rubbed her face and stared at Titz, propped up against the pillows in a half-sitting position, staring into space through her shades while she mumbled soft commands and her fingers danced on her legs. So intense. Strong-willed. These were some of the attributes that had attracted her to Titz in the first place. Plus her elfin face, especially when a mischievous sly smile slid across it and her eyes sparkled. Like when they were on the Metro and she would press herself against Gyro, her hands roaming just enough to let some guy staring at them know what he was missing out on. And if he blushed and looked away? All the better.

When they got home, it made the sex so ... mmmm ... so hot.

Titz’s auburn hair was still mussed from when they had made love and an ear poked through the gentle curls that flowed down to caress her cheeks. Her chest rose with a soft swell and then fell, and her nipples were still erect even though, from her murmuring, sex was the last thing on her mind. Gyro pouted and then reached across to a chest of drawers for her data glove and shades. If Titz had set her mind on a baby, who was she to argue?

‘Link to Titz,’ she murmured after pulling them on. The room turned hazy, semitransparent, and a donor spreadsheet from one of the sperm banks popped up with rows full of weird codes for different alleles — the variations in each gene they represented. As she watched, the image morphed to look like a plane of boxes as seen from above. Some cells changed colour and popped, like popcorn, into raised bumps. Little bees buzzed from bump to bump, tasting the data and moving on, leaving glittering red numerals behind, but none of these percentages of interest were very high.

‘Any luck?’ Gyro asked. Not that it mattered. Even if she stated the bleeding obvious that if Titz did find a suitable candidate, there was no way they could make a withdrawal, but that would only lead to another argument and those kind of arguments spiralled into silence. Bitter, acrimonious silence.

The data surface whizzed past and jerked to a stop on a cluster of bumps in some rows and the bees went to work. A three-dimensional graph popped up, its volume filled with funny little angular shapes, which jiggled and changed colour as the bees collected their pollen.

‘I think so,’ said Titz, her voice miles away. ‘These last two contain the oldest sperm still around.’

‘Really?’ Not that it mattered.

‘They were originally set up to gather together and save the contents of specialist banks that closed down. They contain the sperm from men who were scientists or inventors or artists — anyone who was successful. Some of the samples in this bank are seventy years old and most are over forty, but they should be okay. I don’t know what these men looked like, but those original sperm banks were supposed to have specified that the donors should have some degree of attractiveness, although I have no idea how or who determined that. It’s going to be hard to decide.’

‘But,’ Gyro hesitated, ‘if the government—’

‘These are privately owned.’

‘Does that mean we can deal with them?’

‘No, they’re even more restrictive than the government.’

‘Then what do you have in mind? Get someone else to fool them?’

‘I hadn’t thought of that, but,’ the spreadsheet disappeared and Titz’s avatar, a mean dyke bitch cartoon character appeared, smiling at Gyro with a nasty gleam in her eye, ‘we’re gonna break in, darling. You and I. And take what we want.’

Gyro snorted and then broke into a laugh, but the avatar glared at her and planted its fists on its hips. ‘I’m not joking.’

The laughter died on Gyro’s lips. She blanked the display and turned to stare at Titz. ‘You can’t be serious!’

‘Why not? I have the right to have a baby any way I like.’

‘But that doesn’t mean—’

‘What it means is if this government — these men — can change the laws and take away my rights then I have the right to fight back any way I can. Did you know?’ As Titz turned to face Gyro, her left knee dropped and slid across to bridge the gap between them. ‘Three years ago — three years — single women, including lesbians, had legal access to sperm banks. We couldn’t be denied. It was enshrined in our civil rights. But not now. They’ve taken them away. Men have taken them away.’

Gyro sat up. ‘But stealing? We’re not burglars. What if we’re caught? Think of the bad press. We have our clients to consider.’

Titz smiled at Gyro, feral, with a sting in the tail. ‘We won’t get caught, thanks to Franny.’

Gyro scowled. ‘What? You spoke to that low-ping kluge? Why?’

‘I traded for some pees they have for certain customers, including sperm banks. The list is old, but the banks are slack, and I was able to discern a pattern to their passwords. Hell, some of the old ones are still active. Franny said to say hi.’ Titz’s soft seductive voice oozed venom.

‘I ... it was only once.’ Gyro reached out and placed her hand on Titz’s inner thigh, then tried to placate her partner with a hesitant massage, which moved higher until her fingers caressed the fine bush of hair at the top. ‘She meant nothing to me. Nothing! It was a moment of weakness. After that fight.’ She squeezed Titz’s thigh to lay the blame where it belonged. ‘You said you’d forgiven me!’

‘It was only once with all the others as well.’

Gyro snatched her hand away like her fingers had been burned. Always, Titz had to dig up the past. ‘What do you want me to do? Get down