Skin DeeperBy Bryony MarshThe burly U.N. troopers and the lab technicians glared at each other,neither group bothering to conceal their loathing of the other. The labstaff were under no illusions as to their status: they were prisoners,and their samples, their equipment and every notebook was forfeit."So. You're seizing private property now."Although the U.N. force hadn't begun any interrogations yet, their leaderalready understood a great deal about the setup. The tall, dark womanwhohad spoken: that would be Dr Alderton. She was clearly the one in charge.Trying to stand up to the troopers was stupid, but she did it anyway.Things must be peachy indeed, here is what had once been Switzerland, ifshe thought she could count on any kind of rights."This isn't private property," the officer growled. "You were notified:Intelligenetics is being nationalised."Dr Alderton regarded the leader of the squad. She didn't know U.N. rankinsignia, but assumed he was an officer. His name, it appeared, was Gudin- unless he'd scavenged the uniform from its original owner. He regardedher with a dangerous glint in his eye. Like all his troopers, his skinwas partially crusted over, painfully cracked and oozing. Virtuallyeverybody now had the skin cancers, but despite the condition being sovery common it still made them look threatening, like beast-men."Nationalised, Mr... Gudin?" Dr Alderton frowned. "And yet, the U.N. is nota nation.""Don't make this any more difficult than it needs to be, Doctor." Theofficer quite deliberately sought to intimidate his opponent, thrustinghis scarred face too close as he dared the woman to resist. "I have myorders. You hand over all your notes, your formulae, samples and whatnot,and when we're satisfied that you've left everything functioning, youcanbe on your way. Or you can get on your high horse about your so-calledrights and liberties... in which case I'll put you in chains."He scratched absently at a lesion on his neck, then wiped bloody fingerson his battledress. "Can you imagine how uncomfortable these are?" heasked, indicating his ruined face. "You really don't want to put me in aworse mood. I'm told you've got the cure for this. If you try to withholdinformation - any of the information we need - I'm going to take itpersonally."Dr Alderton lacked the physically bravery to obstruct the troopers. Therehad been a time, some years ago, when she might have attempted toresist...but no longer."Alright," she sighed. "Congratulations: you've stolen a researchfacility. Now... what are you going to do with it?""We're here for the cure. The epigenetic enzyme.""There are lots of epigenetic enzymes," the scientist countered, raisingan eyebrow."And you know the one we've been sent for," the officer countered. "Don'tplay games with me.""Assuming you mean the experimental substance we call Onconel... what willyou do with it?""That's not your concern.""I suppose you're right: checkmate. You're the ones with the guns, solet's assume you now run the place. What makes you think you can makeOnconel work, where we've failed?""Failed?" Gudin leered as he ran a rough, scabbed hand over Dr Alderton'scheek, and down her neck. Her smooth skin couldn't be a greater contrastto his own, ruined flesh. It had been years since he'd seen anybody wholooked as wholesome as this woman. She wasn't beautiful; in truth she wasa horsey, overgrown sort... but her perfect skin more than made up for anyother inadequacies.Gudin regarded his prey with a mixture of awe and lust - mixed with morethan a little jealousy at the thought that she was free from the cancersthat afflicted him. He admitted to himself that he hoped she wouldcontinue to be difficult, so he would be justified in being... persuasive.The doctor shuddered. "Yes. We failed. Now, would you please throw me ina cell somewhere, or are you going to just keep on pawing at me?"+++In July 2016, the radiation from a stupendous series of solar flares onCor Caroli reached the Earth. These caused widespread damage toelectronic systems, wrecking machinery and effectively shutting downcommunications, but this inconvenience was trifling when compared to thesustained wash of ultraviolet that accompanied the magnetic interference.In its aftermath skin cancers became the norm, largely going untreatedinthe chaos that had done so much to wreck civilisation.There followed a time of terrible hardship. The harvests that year wereruined, and economies geared towards global trade crashed as conventionssuch as banking and trade faltered, their dependency upon electronicsrendering them impotent. Out of the ruins there arose at last a newsuperpower, which had its origins in the United Nations system. Whilecommunications were all but impossible and troops everywhere wereuncertain how they should respond to the emergency, the U.N. offeredcertainty. It took control of arsenals, and used troops to establishorder through martial law. Meanwhile nations faltered and slid helplesslyinto bankruptcy.When rumours of a cure for the skin cancers reached the SecretaryGeneral, he moved to add the New Swiss Confederacy to his empire. Thereweren't any real countries that could stand up to the United Nations; itexpanded at will, establishing 'protectorates' as it went. The Swissalpine troops inflicted a heavy toll upon the U.N. invaders, but theywere few in number and were ultimately pushed back until only a guerrillaresistance remained; U.N. troops entered St Gallen in April 2025, andseized Intelligenetics the following day.+++The Secretary General himself came to St Gallen. Mindful of his ownsafety, he wouldn't normally have gone into an area that had so recentlybecome a U.N. protectorate, but St Gallen held the promise of a cure forthe cancers (including his own) and this provided sufficient enticement.Escorted by troops, he entered the facility as a conqueror. If the peoplehe found there did not share their secrets, and participate willingly inthis latest grand project of the United Nations, they would becompelled.Dr Alderton found the Secretary General to be a complex character,apparently obsessed with how future generations would perceive theactions that he took. He didn't so much talk as make speeches. He waspassionate, but sociopathic. His refrains about "saving humanity" wereobviously self-serving. The geneticist was surprised to find that shewasn't afraid of him. She was afraid of his lieutenants, who had beatenher savagely upon several occasions, but their leader mostly bored her.She recognised him for what he was, and despised him: a fat man at a timewhen so many were hungry.At their first encounter, over a meal with a number of his officers, theSecretary General had spoken at length of their obligations to mankind,to re-establish order and to care for all, ensuring in particular thehealth of children. He spoke in measured, grandiose bursts, while astenographer made a record of everything. He lectured on how dangerousthe world had become, and how he feared that "some priceless piece ofknowledge might be hijacked or destroyed by some petty warlord" in thechaos that still prevailed in many places.Eventually, he wound down, and Dr Alderton was surprised to be shown backto her cell (actually a basement store room in the laboratory) with noquestioning having taken place.+++"Doctor Alderton: we meet again!" The Secretary General's apparentlyeffortless bonhomie was as insincere as anything else about the man. Hehad been a career politician before he became a conqueror."Mister Secretary General." The beatings had ensured that Dr Aldertonunderstood the consequences of any impoliteness towards the man whocontrolled most of Europe and North America.He came close, and looked her over. He hadn't seen flawless skin such ashers in almost a decade - at least, not on an adult. Some parents triedto keep their children in cellars while Cor Caroli was above the horizon,to reduce their exposure to the radiation that still sleeted through theEarth's atmosphere."I see my men are looking after you well," he observed.Knowing better than to make a complaint, she didn't dare reply to that,but her silence didn't seem to satisfy him."What?" he challenged."I haven't had any contact with my team. I hope..." she faltered. "May I...inquire as to their wellbeing?""Nobody's been hurt," he dismissed the question.If that was true then her technicians and subordinated had been treated alot better than she had."What can I - we - do for you, Mister Secretary General?" She sought toemphasise that the team were an important part of the operation. It mightkeep them alive."Well, that ought to be obvious: I'm here to take the cure for thecancers that you have developed, and share it with the world."Sell it to the world, more likely, the doctor thought: or use it as atool to ensure control over the ruins of the world."It's not ready," she blurted."I'll be the judge of that," he replied. "You scientists are alwaysperfectionists. John Harrison completed his marine chronometer in 1735,but kept on tinkering with it for another quarter of a century. Who knowshow many people were shipwrecked in the meantime? No: I won't tolerateany pussyfooting about in this crisis. If you have a cure for the cancers- and your own skin suggests you do - I want to know about it.""My team and I can tell you everything we've learned, but it's notenough. Despite everything the people of St Gallen have done for us -providing us with electricity and even two working computers - we simplycan't perform genetic research the way we used to, pre-2015.""I'm sure we're all indebted to the people of St Gallen, but this is aproblem on a scale that only the United Nations can address. You wantcomputers? I can get you ten. Twenty, even. I can bring in morescientists. Future generations will not thank us if we fail to devoteourselves to this task..."Here we go again, Dr Alderton thought. Another grand speech aimed atensuring his place in history... but the Secretary General performed anuncharacteristic shift, and brought himself back to the here and now."Doctor Alderton, what would you need to make this enzyme of yoursready?"She had to think about that. Eventually: "For one thing, I'd need adetailed map of about three percent of the human genome. It was stillbeing refined in 2015, and that was an international effort. There wereteams all over the world, all using automated equipment to perform theirexperiments, and sharing what they learned via the Internet. Neither thegene sequencing machines nor the Internet function anymore, and many ofthe people who worked in the field must be dead, or scattered. To get thescientific base back up to a point where you could begin to research acure for the cancers would probably take a generation. After that, youmight need ten years - and some luck..."The Secretary General had become more and more impatient as she spoke,shaking his head in consternation. At last he stopped her:"How dare you stand here, the only healthy person in a room full of thosewho all have the cancers, and say you don't have the cure?"Spittle flew as he raged. A terrible silence followed."Please understand," the doctor warned, "that Onconel has side effects!""Everyone in this room," the Secretary General waved his arm to encompassall his troopers, "Everybody in this city, except for your clique ofscientists, is dying of cancer. Everybody is in pain, all the time. Somemay suffer this way for decades; others find it goes terminal much sooner- and you survive!"Dr Alderton had known this was coming. She just shook her head sadly,eyes downcast."You and the other scientists have lived like parasites on the backs ofthe people of St Gallen long enough. What gave you the right to live herein good health and plenty in this scientific nunnery of yours?" hedemanded. "People are dying!"He signalled to a trooper, who seized Dr Alderton's braided hair in hisclenched fist and kicked at the backs of her knees, forcing her into akneeling position.The Secretary General punched her hard in the face, splitting her lip. Itwas nothing compared to what his soldiers were capable of, but he foundit satisfying to deliver the first blow himself. The bitch had nobusiness being obstructive while she flaunted her good looks in a worldwhere virtually everyone else endured painful lesions."How do you explain your smooth skin?" he inquired, almost pleasantly."It... worked on me," she admitted. "After a fashion. I knew it wasn'tready, so I decided upon self-experimentation. I didn't feel it would beethical to ask somebody else to go first.""If you want experimental subjects," the Secretary General sought toproject the voice of reason, "I can give you them. Criminals, gypsies... ifyou're going to get all ethical about it, I can send you the terminallyill. There's plenty of them around!"Dr Alderton probed the swelling lip with her tongue. "There's nothing totest. The current enzyme hasn't been perfected, and we've been reduced toa snail's pace in our efforts to produce an alternative enzyme.""Explain.""If we'd had another decade or two in which to work, I imagine that somederivative of the epigenetic enzyme would have revolutionised the beautyindustry. It might even have been a first step towards clinicalimmortality... but then those solar flares on Cor Caroli kick-started a newdark age.""Wish in one hand and shit in the other, doctor: see which fills upfirst. I didn't ask you what might have happened. I'm asking you why youthink the enzyme is a failure, when you're a living, breathingadvertisement for it."The doctor regarded him levelly. "How much do you know aboutepigenetics?""How much do you know about governing a quarter of mankind?" hecountered. "Incidentally, I resent your assertion that this is a new darkage. We've taken a hit, certainly, but the Flare was also a tremendousopportunity, to sweep away the conceits of the twentieth century, andunify mankind for its own good."And so the Secretary General began his speechifying again, quiteoverlooking the fact that he had never asked about the side effects ofthe enzyme.+++Captain Gudin wasn't only scarred where it showed. He had been present atthe fall of Valletta; he'd taken part in the Sicily Campaign, fought hisway up through what had been Italy, and on into the short-lived NewSwissConfederacy. He'd seen a lot of terrible things - done a lot of terriblethings - but he'd never really imagined that the stories were true; thatthere were people who were free of the cancer. Now, he knew it was true...and yet this scientist seemed determined to put obstacles in their path.He had been tasked with getting the truth out of her, and he enjoyed thetask, because it had given him an excuse to spend time with her."Imagine a substance that can alter how genes are expressed withoutaltering the underlying DNA sequence," the doctor was saying. "I couldtell you about repressor proteins and how they attach to silencer regionsin the DNA, but just assume that I'm telling the truth, for the sake ofargument.""Your life depends on telling the truth, doctor," he interjected."How kind of you to remind me. Now, remember that what has gone wrong ina cell - a skin cell, bombarded with harsh radiation, say - is anepigenetic change. A new range of cancers is expressed. These epigeneticchanges last through cell divisions for the duration of the cell's life,and through successive generations, even though they don't necessarilyinvolve changes in the underlying DNA.""Meaning?" Gudin looked unimpressed, although secretly he had to admitthat there was something enticing about Dr Alderton when she enthusedabout the science that fascinated her. Gudin wondered if was going tohave to rape her as a part of the process of breaking her resistance. Theprospect was not altogether disagreeable to him."Meaning," she responded, "that if you had an enzyme that mimicked theway cellular differentiation works during morphogenesis, it could readthe undamaged, underlying DNA, and produce healthy cells instead.""So... you're sitting on a cure for cancer?"Dr Alderton shook her head. "Not exactly. Remember, Onconel was a beautyproduct, designed to rejuvenate skin. It was never meant to be anythingmore ambitious than that. We never had the skills, nor the funding, toachieve anything like that."Gudin came uncomfortably close, and peered at the doctor's skin. "Thisisn't just a skin graft we're talking about. I know what those looklike." Gudin thought of some of the futile early attempts to treat thecancers that he and his men suffered."Not a graft, no: Onconel grows new skin cells in situ.""Okay. How do you administer it? How much can you make per week? And howquickly can you ramp up production?" Gudin's enthusiasm for the miraclewas understandable enough. He was in pain, all the time."Not so fast. Remember the side effects?""Tell me." The accompanying glare warned that this had better not be anexcuse for more obstructiveness from the doctor."Firstly, morphogenesis means you're making brand new skin. Think babyskin. A person who undergoes treatment with Onconel finishes up with nocalluses. That means the recipient is going to be acutely sensitive, atleast for a time.""It can't hurt as much as these cancers," Gudin reasoned. "So I'll acceptthat as the price of a new skin. What else have you got against yourenzyme?""My second point is related to the first. Remember, baby skin: that meansmore susceptibility to ultraviolet. So either you go and live in a caveafterwards, or you've got to expect to burn more readily. In other words,the risk from cancers is actually increased.""But if I got the cancers again, I could just get more enzyme," theCaptain objected. "Is there a limit to how much enzyme I can take?""Good question," Dr Alderton was reluctantly impressed with the Captain'sability to think things through, as well as to threaten people. "And asfar as I know, there isn't. Although we haven't performed clinicaltrials.""Is there a limit to how much enzyme you can make?""Not really. It multiplies more-or-less like yeast. Just shield it fromthe radiation, and keep it in a tank with moisture, sugars and starches.""The Secretary General isn't going to like that!""What? Why?""Never mind." The trooper tried to dismiss the problem."So, he doesn't want a cure for all mankind," Dr Alderton deduced. "Hewants a cure that he controls!""Not your problem, doctor," the Captain warned. The interview ended soonafter. That suited Dr Alderton, who still hadn't revealed Onconel's majorside effect. Knowledge is power, she had decided, and sought to delaythedisclosure of any information until she was forced to reveal it.+++They produced a child with terminal cancers. Dr Alterton didn'tunderstand the girl's language, although from her looks it seemed shemight be Roma. The kid was clearly terrified, and kept trying to hideunder a table, mewling in terror."Cure her," the Secretary General demanded. "I want to see ademonstration of this miracle enzyme of yours.""Very well," the doctor replied. "We must begin by sedating her.""Why is that?""I'm going to have to immerse her in a vat of Onconel for three days Ifshe was awake, she'd probably panic, pull out the breathing tube anddrown.""Alright," said the Secretary General. "Do it." He indicated to hishenchmen that they should capture the terrified girl and hold her. Thisthey did. They held her while she tried to pull away from Dr Alderton,who prepared a syringe, and delivered its contents. The girl rapidly lostconsciousness. Dr Alderton had the soldiers bring the girl to what shecalled the "tank room" where she set up a drip and also fitted the girlwith a breathing tube."That's it," she said. "Next we raise a mesh bed up out of the tank, andfasten her to it. She indicated a pulley arrangement, and directed one ofthe troopers to operate it. A fine metal grid rose up out of the liquidin the tank."Put her on the bed - gently! Then we can fasten her in place, and lowerthe mesh back into the tank."The Secretary General regarded the large tank of fluid. "Wait!" hecommanded. "If you treat this girl, will it use up a significant amountof your supply of Onconel?""No. We'll filter it, but most can be used again.""Proceed," said the Secretary General. Already, he was thinking about hisown skin.He had Dr Alderton raise the girl out of the tank several times duringthe three days. What he saw was astonishing: the cancerous scabs sloughedaway, replaced by skin that was puffy and a reddish-purple colour, butobviously far more healthy."Why's it that colour?" he asked."Well, it's basically baby skin," the doctor replied. "You were probablya similar colour when you were a newborn. It'll become a natural enoughcolour once she's been out of the tank a few days.""Astonishing." The Secretary General shook his head in wonder. For once,there were no speeches.The Gypsy girl lived for a little over four weeks. Dr Alderton saw quitea lot of her, and they achieved a kind of rapport, although theircommunication was only rudimentary. It soon became clear that the cancershad spread and although her skin was now pristine, there was nothingthatcould be done to save her. It was "cancer of the everything" as one of DrAlderton's colleagues called it. They buried her in the garden, watchedclosely by a group of U.N. troopers who did nothing to help.The Secretary General wasn't at all disappointed. He still regarded theenzyme in the vat as a miracle. If anything, the fact that the girl haddied from a secondary cancer made him want to accelerate the process, andsecure treatment for himself.Still, he was no fool. He didn't offer himself as the very next testsubject. Instead he asked for a volunteer from among his troops.One of several who volunteered was a sergeant by the name of Kieffer. DrAlderton said that of all the volunteers, he ought to be treated first,because his cancers looked as if they were particularly advanced. Thiswasn't true, but it provided a pretext, and allowed Dr Alderton and herteam a small measure of revenge.Kieffer had raped one of the lab assistants, Charlotte Gosselin. Not aspart of an interrogation; the girl was only a technician and knew verylittle about Intelligenetics' research; it was simply that she was young,and pretty... and he was in a position of power. And so, he had taken her,and used her. Dr Alderton trusted neither Captain Gudin nor theSecretaryGeneral to deliver justice in this matter, so she had chosen not to raisethe matter with them. Instead she had bided her time, in the hope thatshe might be able to secure justice on her own terms.Kieffer wasn't drugged, but sat upon the mesh and allowed himself to belowered into the 'soup', as they called the contents of the tank. Theypulled him up from time to time, but never for long enough to allow hisskin to dry out. He complained of boredom, but said that the process wasquite soothing. He asked if he could simply go in a tank from the neckdown, but since this would leave his head untreated, it wasn't an option."It might someday be possible to make the Onconel into a thick cream," DrAlderton pondered, as she had done many times. The Secretary Generalwasn't particularly interested in such refinements, though.On the second day, Kieffer complained that he hadn't been able to sleep,for fear of drowning. It was decided that he should be sedated. Already,healthy reddish patches of skin could be seen between his scabs, so heknew the miracle was working. He agreed readily enough.When he was revived at the end of the third day of treatment, he wasastonished to find that all his cancerous scabs had floated away, leavinghim unscarred."Baby skin," Dr Alderton explained: "It doesn't scar anything like asreadily as the skin cells you grow later in life."Kieffer marvelled at his new, healthy skin, but there was something thatconcerned him. It was some time before could bring himself to speak aboutit: his penis had shrunk to a tiny nub, as if he'd jumped in a freezingcold lake. That was the way he described it. The Secretary Generalchuckled and left the room, claiming he had "matters of state" to attendto."I imagine that your scrotum feels very tight as well?" Dr Aldertoninquired, and the soldier agreed."Yes, it's to be expected," Dr Alderton confirmed, enjoying the rapist'sdiscomfort as she explained. "When you grew that new layer of skin - whatI call baby skin - you weren't in the womb, and you weren't undergoingfoetal development the same way that you did the first time around. Therewas no opportunity for your SRY gene to encode the transcription factorsthe way they originally did, about six weeks after you were conceived."Kieffer shook his head, indicating that he didn't understand."Basically, your skin cells are in their undifferentiated state. And inmammals, the default pattern for development is female. If you were abird, you'd have defaulted to male, but that's another story.""It's... a woman's skin?" Kieffer looked alarmed. He prodded himself. "It'svery sensitive.""It's bound to be sensitive because it's only a day old. Give it time.But yes - it's a woman's skin. Although it's also your skin.""You never said anything about this!" he accused."You never asked."Kieffer felt murderous. He didn't understand much of what the bitch wastalking about, but it seemed that he was the victim of some kind oftrick. He wanted to knock her about: to wipe that smugness off her face...but at the same time, he knew he couldn't. His skin and his fingernailsfelt soft, and paper-thin. Every part of him was acutely sensitive, andit seemed that he would struggle to throw a punch without hurtinghimself. He was naked, and unarmed... and he felt unmanned by thecontraction of his gonads. He asked for some clothing, but when they gavehim a bathrobe he found that it chafed immediately. His new skin reallywas raw.Gudin was regarding him with dispassionate interest. The unspokenthought: rather you than me."You knew this would happen?" Gudin challenged the scientist. His handwas resting on the butt of his pistol, as it hadn't since the earliestdays after the U.N. troopers forced their way in."Yes." Dr Alderton didn't try to deny her part in the process."Is it inevitable?" the Captain pressed."I think so. Given that all the laboratory equipment had gone to hell andwe had to sequence the genes with nothing more than pencil and paper, Ithink we did an astounding job to get it working at all...""Specifically, what did you make it do?""The epigenetic enzyme was meant to promote new skin growth, edging outsenescent and damaged cells in the process, but every cell produced wasundifferentiated: they were female. We'd seen during tests with mice thatthis produced a massive antibody response when it was used on a male:basically all your leukocytes acted as if any of the new cells was aninfectious disease.""Leukocytes?""Sorry," the doctor conceded that she was getting too technical. "Whiteblood cells.""That sounds nasty.""It was. Like giving somebody a blood transfusion of the wrong type: thecure was worse than the disease.""But you solved that.""Yes. The enzyme is epigenetic, remember? I found a way to make theenzyme work in such a way as to colonise the host body, instead of fightagainst it. Basically, it slips around the body's defences: it's nolonger seen as an enemy.""So... what's the catch? Kieffer can't grow a beard anymore?""I'm afraid it's a little bit more complicated than that. The skin is thelargest organ of the human body, and Kieffer's is now definitivelyfemale. Its also a lot younger than the rest of his body. Its cells arecurrently acting as if they are part of a foetus in the late stages ofdevelopment, and soon they'll work as if they're part of a growingchild.""Meaning what?" Sergeant Kieffer was becoming angry at being talked aboutas if he wasn't there."I imagine it means you're going to look very youthful for a few years,Sergeant." Gudin raised an eyebrow at the doctor."Youthful? Yes, he certainly will. But there's more to it than that:those new cells are going to keep on multiplying. As far as they'reconcerned, they've been instructed to build a healthy body. They're stillundergoing a growth phase, while the rest of his cells have slowed rightdown to a maintenance level of activity. Except perhaps for some that'vebeen mutated by radiation. They grow like crazy and we call it cancer,asyou know.""Slow down. You're losing me," Gudin objected. "You're losing both ofus.""Okay," the doctor's brow furrowed as she thought hard. She wasn't anatural-born teacher. "Cells divide, right? That's how we grow, and howwe heal. Okay?""Okay," Kieffer and Gudin chorused."Virtually all your cells contain two copies of your twenty-threechromosomes, each composed of a DNA molecule. During cell division, eachchromosome - the organised structure of most of your DNA - is duplicated,but the copy is imperfect. With each duplication, a chromosome'stelomeres are shortened. Think of telomeres as spare DNA, acting as asafety margin: when they're all used up, the chromosome itself getsshortened instead, and the resulting cell is no good. Crudely speaking,it's why we age and eventually die.""I don't understand," Kieffer wailed. "Can't we just shoot the bitch?""No, let's hear her out," Gudin ordered. "I think she's saying that she'sfound the fountain of youth." He looked at the doctor anew, and wonderedhow old she was. If her own body had undergone this treatment... that wasintriguing. He'd expected to die from the cancers within a few years,like everyone else... but how long might a person live, with their bodyrenewed through this arcane science?"The fountain of youth?" That's an interesting way of looking at it, thedoctor conceded. "What I'm really getting at is that the cells rebuilt bythe epigenetic enzyme, being brand new, are not only far more vigorousthan the rest of the body's cells, they actually identify themselves asbetter qualified to be a part of the body. Over time - and I'm talking anumber of years here - they can be expected to edge out much of the oldmaterial.""But a fast-growing collection of cells is a cancer," Gudin objected."No." The doctor shook her head. "It's only a cancer if the cell divisionprocess tricks its way past the management and control mechanism we callapoptosis, and with the telomeres of the new cells as long as they canpossibly be, Kieffer has every chance of remaining healthy for manyyears."The doctor couldn't help but smile as she said that."What's the catch?" Kieffer asked, waiting for the other shoe to drop."Well, obviously, you'll be youthful and healthy... but you're going tohave to go through puberty again."Kieffer opened his mouth, and closed it again. He frowned."As a girl," the doctor added.Rage carried Kieffer across the room, thought his feet protested at everystep. When he clawed at the doctor, it was his own skin that tore, nothers. He sobbed in pain, although the doctor never raised a hand againsthim."You really shouldn't have raped Charlotte," she said quietly, so thatonly he could hear.Kieffer's bathrobe had fallen open as a result of his mad dash across theroom. "What about my cock?" he demanded, grabbing at the little nub, andscrutinising it."It's being reabsorbed, over time. It's not a normal feature of a healthyfemale, so as far as your body is concerned, it doesn't belong.""He's becoming a woman from the outside in?" Gudin was appalled.Dr Alderton shrugged. "I suppose so. Although It'll be a long, long timebefore he develops characteristics like womanly hips. Certainly Ihaven't, yet." She enjoyed the sergeant's discomfort, and relished thesense of power she had over him as she rammed home her point. "I doubtthat people like you and I will ever be able to reproduce, Kieffer, butif you're anything like me, you'll acquire a functional vagina over thenext couple of years. I've managed to x-ray myself from time to time,although the film is hard to come by. I don't seem to be developing awomb... but I suppose that's a long way in from skin deep. Who knows whatmight happen in another ten years?""You..." Kieffer regarded the doctor with fascination, and horror."Why?" That was Gudin.The doctor replied frankly, relieved at last that she wouldn't need tokeep any more secrets. "As I told the Secretary General, we needed anexperimental subject. You can only learn so much from mice, and Icouldn't ask anybody else, because I didn't know if it was safe. It's badscience, but I had to fall back on self-experimentation. Also, I had thesame motivation as Kieffer, here: I had skin cancer. Just like everybodyelse."Kieffer was weeping, and Gudin summoned some men to take him away, andput to bed. Then he returned to his questioning."Were the rest of the staff here male as well?""No, no." Dr Alderton laughed at the notion. "Remember, this lab wasworking on a beauty therapy. The great majority of Intelligenetics staffwere women to begin with. In fact, just four of us were men. As soon asthe Flare happened, one set out to get back to his family in Portugal,and I haven't heard from him since. Another was killed in the food riots,the first winter. My colleague Dr Damien Marsh died of cancer before thetherapy was ready, and that left me. My female colleagues weresympathetic, and took care of me during the early stages of mymetamorphosis - just as I took care of them when they needed treatment,although their own experience with the epigenetic enzyme was lessdebilitating. They've been covering for me ever since.""So. You were right: Onconel isn't ready for use." Gudin shook his head,sadly."It's as ready as it ever can be, as far as I can tell," Dr Aldertonreplied."Meaning?""Unless there's a breakthrough in retroviral DNA resequencing, of a kindthat I can't even begin to imagine, the epigenetic enzyme is always goingto produce a female -" Dr Alderton indicated her own body, "Or a closeapproximation thereof.""The Secretary General really isn't going to like this," Gudin observed,grimly.+++"You lying shit! You bastard! I'll have you killed!" the SecretaryGeneral roared. He came so close that his spittle sprayed on the doctor.She regarded him impassively. "I've got people who can kill you soslowly, you'll be begging me for days to finish you," he promised."You'll lose your mind, and I'll still be there laughing at you, all theway to the end.""Hmm. A slow death?" Dr Alderton smiled. "Not possible.""Young lady," the Secretary General gloated as he chose his words, "Ivery much doubt you're about to be rescued.""Indeed. But I expect to die within the next few minutes.""What? Why? How! This place has been swept for explosives...""Stop worrying about your own precious skin, Mister Secretary General.You're safe. But I can I just take a moment to say what a vile, petty andself-serving little asshole you are? Because I think it needs to besaid.""Brave words, doctor. But I warn you: Sergeant Kieffer is very keen topull your intestines out and show them to you. He likes to do that topeople, and you've upset him more than most.""Hmm. But Sergeant Kieffer is indisposed," Dr Alderton said dreamily."For a few days at least. Believe me, I ought to know." She giggled."What? Why are you laughing?" the Secretary General demanded. "God damnit: why are you laughing at me?"Dr Alderton withdrew her hands from the pockets of her lab coat. Sheopened them to reveal a syringe in each, both empty."I just gave myself a massive overdose of barbiturates," Dr Aldertonthrew her head back and laughed. "You've already had me beaten severaltimes. I didn't think another round of torture would be a good way toround off my life. So I decided to take care of it myself. Goodbye, youdumb shit," she laughed.She collapsed just a few seconds later, and cheated the Secretary Generalof his chance to hurt her. Even as he seized Gudin's pistol and shot herin the stomach (usually a guarantee of slow and painful death), sheexpired, still smiling.+++Despite the "failure" of the epigenetic enzyme, word of it got out - andsamples, too. As Dr Alderton had said, the substance could be made tomultiply like yeast. Countless people had a wife, a girlfriend or adaughter that they wanted to spare from the cancers, and it was simpleenough to make a vat of the 'soup' from even the smallest sample. Withina year, it had been smuggled to every city in the world. Anybody whocould brew beer already had everything they needed to make Onconel.In addition to the women, there was always some male who was sick ofliving with the painful cancers, or worried that he might develop aterminal secondary cancer. There was no shortage of men ready to do the"three-day sleep" as it became known, and set out on a new life thatwould see him transform into a female.Captain Gudin absconded, and underwent the treatment. Like mostdeserters, he was never found. Lucas del Pozo, the self-styled SecretaryGeneral of the United Nations was paralysed by indecision. Some say hewent mad. A lifelong chauvinist, he hated the idea that he idea that hewould be 'lessened' by the transformation that Onconel would force uponhim. He stayed in St Gallen for nine years, always close to the miraclecure in case he should need it, but fearful of the change it would forceupon him. The remote and inaccessible St Gallen was a poor place fromwhich to govern an empire, and he proved unable to quell the rebellionsthat began during this time. The United Nations fragmented, and itstroops deserted in droves - many because they wanted the epigenetic curefor their cancers. Eventually the Secretary General commenced treatmentwith Onconel, but he had left it too late, and the cancers that hadoccupied his thoughts killed him. History did not remember him kindly.+++The human race didn't die out as some alarmists had predicted, but by thetime I was born in 2398AD, society had changed a great deal. Male-bornchildren like me were faced with a stark choice: live for most of ourlives far underground in order to avoid the radiation, or risk thecancers. A girl who got the cancers was easily cured with a "three-daysleep", but a man or boy similarly afflicted would have to surrender hismaleness, or live on in pain and die young. Few, over the years, hadchosen to do that.In 2372, Dr Petra Alderton was declared a saint by Pope Joan III. It wasperhaps an unusual choice, given that she was known to have taken her ownlife, but the modern Catholic Church was very different from itspredecessor. There had been a schism, with those who rejected treatmentwith Onconel remaining in Rome, while the new Papacy returned to itsancient roots in Avignon. The progressive "sister institution" thrived,while its Roman counterpart dwindled to almost nothing.The recovering science base had developed enough to permit the freezingof sperm, so I chose to deposit some as soon as I was mature enough. Thatdone, I made a pilgrimage to St Gallen, and there I underwent the"three-day sleep". Several of my classmates did the same. Like most boys my age,I didn't want to leave it too late, and develop my male characteristicsbefore I made the change. An earlier transformation meant better bonestructure, in a society that had come to view feminine looks as the norm.A census of West Europe in the year of my birth estimated that 86% of thepopulation were female "for all practical purposes". The few men whosought to shelter from the radiation for their entire lives were referredto disparagingly as "cave worms". In some parts of the world it hadalready become the fashion for mothers to arrange an immediate immersionin Onconel for their newborn sons, so as to save them a difficultdecision later in life.In Stuttgart I met and fell in love with Lilli. We married on St Petra'sday, twelve years ago now. Since she was female-born we were able to havechildren, using some of my stored sperm. We now have three, and althoughshe bore them, a little help from a hormone therapist meant that I wasable to join her in feeding them at the breast. The last of our three wasmale-born, but I had unhappy memories of my subterranean childhood and Iwouldn't have wished that on the young fellow. We had the little angeltreated at once: as Helene she's the prettiest little thing you ever saw.I don't deny that there is much wrong with our ravaged Earth, but lifegoes on.===Please leave a review; your feedback means a lot to me, and I'd love toknow that you've read one of my stories.