This is a slice of life story concerning the failed attempt to incorporate boys into the Section 1 project.
Meet the Girl-boys
In the Girl-boy dorm, three of the boys had gathered in Stefano's room to wile away yet another long day of inactivity. Stefano played with his PSP, Marcello was reading a copy of Panorama, and Kevin was throwing darts. It was a day like countless others before it and countless more to come. Since the cancellation of the girl-boy project, their training had been reduced to a trickle and the few assignments that came their way consisted of only surveillance and reconnaissance.
There were several reasons for all of this, but the first and foremost was simple – the conditioning just wasn't working. The boys had the Agency's mechanical bodies, but could not use them any better then a normal child off the street could use his. Where the Girls of the Agency were lightning quick and agile, the boys were slow and clumsy. Where the Girls could process and retain highly technical information almost as quickly as it was fed to them, the boys struggled to keep up with basic High School courses. Where the Girls carried out their missions without a moment's hesitation and with deadly efficiency, the boys exhibited a behavior that was completely unacceptable – Fear. As a result, the Girls basked in the Agency's attention and admiration, while the boys were, for the most part, ignored. Even their handlers, it seemed, preferred to spend time with the Girls as opposed to them. And so, another dreary day slowly crept by.
"Say Kevin, how did it go with the ice princess?" Stefano asked. Since he was the first girl-boy of the program and the oldest of the four, he was considered their unofficial leader.
"The who?"
"Triela," He said, "Weren't you trying to make time with her?"
"Oh, that," Kevin said, completely missing the board with his next dart. "Are you familiar at all with the Hindenburg disaster?"
"Yeah."
"It went a little something like that."
"I tried to tell ya," Stefano said with a laugh, "That chick is the very definition of the word bitch."
"I don't know," He walked over to the wall to retrieve his darts, "She's really not that bad. Tell me something, did you know she was sleeping with her handler?"
"Yeah, everyone does."
Kevin shot him a hostile glance. "Well I didn't. It would have been nice if you had told me before I made a complete ass of myself."
"I couldn't do that," Stefano said, "You're not considered an official girl-boy until you've struck out with Triela."
"Thanks a lot." He said as he once again threw at the target.
"I'll tell you what," Stefano said after a moment, "I'd give my left nut if I could fuck that girl just once."
"I'd give my left nut if I could fuck anything just once." Kevin replied. "It's gotten to the point where Henrietta is looking good."
"Put that thought out of your mind my friend." Stefano said, "Trust me on this, Croce doesn't take to kindly to people who mess with his girl."
"Are you telling me you tried to bed Henrietta?"
"Yeah, but I shot craps." Stefano said. He then looked up from his game and noticed Kevin staring at him, "Hey, don't judge me, man. Once you've been spanking it for as long as I have, you'll start to understand what true desperation is."
It was at this time that the fourth girl-boy, Paolo, walked into the room. He was sporting a gloomy look and a very swollen, split lip.
"What the hell happened to you?" Stefano asked.
"The wicked bitch of the west," He said, "That's what happened to me."
"I take it you're referring to Maria?"
"Who else?" He threw his backpack on the bed. "Fucking cunt…"
"What happened this time?"
"We're on the stupid surveillance mission right?" He said, sitting down at the table. "Eight hours watching an empty fucking building. Eight hours! Well, ol' Maria starts getting really bored so she figures the best way to keep herself entertained is to start ragging on me. She went on and on, telling me what a lazy, no good, worthless piece of shit I am. After about thirty minutes I finally snapped and told her that maybe the reason I'm a worthless piece of shit is that I have a shitty handler."
"Oh, god…" Stefano said, rolling his eyes.
"Well, she grabs me by the throat and says that if I ever talk to her like that again, she'll cut my nuts off, so I say to her, 'You might as well, it's not like I have any use for them.' So what does the bitch do? She hauls off and pops me in the mouth." Paolo untied his shoes and kicked them off his feet and against the wall.
"I would feel sorry for you," Stefano said, "But you asked for it"
"Ah, fuck her!" Paolo went over and picked up one of his shoes and set it on the table in front of Stefano. "Look at that. Tell me if that's not something a fucking hobo should be wearing."
Stefano picked it up and examined it. "Actually, hobo's have higher standards then this."
"You know what happened on Sunday? I Knew Maria had the afternoon off so I asked her real sweet like if she would take me out and buy me some new shoes. She says, 'No I'm busy.' Well I noticed she was all dolled up, so I asked her what she was doing. Now she could have shown a little sensitivity and lied to me, but no. She comes right out and tells me she's taking Henrietta and Beatrice out to lunch to celebrate their spectacular Milan mission. Even though those two little bitches were getting rewards from their handlers, my big sister felt she had to throw in one of her own. I even tried to play on her emotions, I told her how much it hurt my feelings, you know, putting those two in front of her own little brother."
"What did she say to that?"
Paolo picked up the shoe and threw it back against the wall. "The skank told me to piss off. And you want to hear the real kicker? I found out later that after lunch, she took them shopping. Shopping for fucks sake!"
"Sounds like Maria has a sever case of Girl envy."
"Shit," Paolo said, "Everyone in this whole Agency kiss their asses. Fuck those little bitches, I say."
"Funny you should mention that, we were just talking about fucking Triela."
Paolo thought about this for a moment and then said, "Even though I hate her guts, I'd still do things to her that are illegal in every country of the EU."
"What I wouldn't give to be Hillshire for one night." Kevin added.
"There's just no justice. They turn a blind eye to the Princess, but would they do the same if I were balling Maria? Hell no!"
"That's a moot point," Stefano said, "Especially considering that Maria wouldn't even spit on you, much less have sex with you."
"Yeah, I know." Paolo replied, "She wouldn't spit on me, but she sure doesn't have a problem using me as a punching bag."
"Why don't you just hit her back?" Kevin asked, half paying attention.
"Oh sure, and have those sick bastards in R&D give me a lobotomy? I don't think so."
This got a slight chuckle from the group. After a while, Paolo sighed and said, "Four handlers, and everyone an asshole."
It was then Marcello spoke up, "Giomar's not an asshole."
Paolo turned on him, "Shut up you little faggot! No one's talking to you."
"Hey!" Stefano barked, "Knock that shit off!"
Paolo turned to Stefano. "Oh come on! We don't get any respect around here as it is, and the pole smoker there sure isn't helping matters!"
"Marcello has nothing to do with what's happening to us, and if you don't lay off him, you're going to get another bust in the chops!"
Paolo opened his mouth to say something else, but then thought better of it when he saw that Stefano meant business.
Marcello was the third girl-boy to come to the Agency, after Stefano and Paolo. He had the distinction of being the first, third generation cyborg of Section 2. Research and development had high hopes that this new conditioning regime would solve all of the problems that his predecessors were having, but it wasn't long before they realized that it would not. He was every bit as flawed as his brothers were. The only bright spot that anyone saw was the relationship he had with his handler. Giomar was a very affectionate and attentive big brother and Marcello seemed to thrive under his tutorage. People started comparing their fratello to that of Jose and Henrietta's, but after several months, Giomar began to sense that Marcello was acting a little more like Henrietta then a boy should. He started to become very physical; always wanting hugs and to hold hands. He also started doing little things that made Giomar uncomfortable, like bringing him coffee in the morning, straightening up his desk, cleaning his room, and even laying out his clothes for the next day. Once, as Giomar saw him off to bed, Marcello suddenly kissed him on the cheek.
Giomar had voiced these concerns to the R&D personnel but they assured him that prior to the Agency, the boy had been a heterosexual, and that he was probably just misinterpreting his actions. None the less, as time went on, it became clear to Giomar that his little brother's feeling for him went far beyond plutonic. He started to distance himself from Marcello, and was frequently short with him when he would do one of his special favors. As for the boy, he couldn't understand why his loving big brother had suddenly become so cold towards him. Marcello tried everything he could think of to win back his affection, but it seemed the harder he tried, the more remote Giomar became.
It all came to a head one day when Marcello decide to let his handler know how he truly felt. He went to Claes and asked her if he could pick some flowers from her garden. He arranged them in a coffee mug he had purchased that had Giomar's name on it, and left it on his desk, along with a note. It read:
My Dearest Giomar, I don't know what I've done to make you mad, but I'm sorry. Please don't be mad at me anymore. I really want things to go back to the way they were. I miss it so much. I miss you. I'll be anything you want me too be. Just tell me. Anything. Please. All my love forever, Marcello
I love you, Giomar and I'd give anything to hear you say you love me too. I know there's a difference in our ages, but when two people are in love, age means nothing, right?
This was more then Giomar could handle. He confronted the boy in his room.
"What the hell do you mean leaving that crap on my desk?" He shouted.
Marcello, startled by his handlers anger and not sure how to respond, said, "Didn't… didn't you like the flowers?"
"No, I didn't," He said, ice in his voice, "That's why I threw them in the fucking trash!"
"I'm sorry." Marcello said, his lower lip beginning to quiver.
"You're going to be a lot more then sorry if you don't get your head straight and stop all this faggot bullshit!" He said, grabbing the boy by the collar. "Now I want you to listen to me and listen good – You are my partner, a fellow operative. You are not my brother and you sure as hell aren't my goddamn girlfriend!"
He shoved the boy back. "From now on, unless it's business related, I don't want to see or hear you. You got it!"
Marcello, unable to speak, felt as though his brother had just ripped out his heart and stomped on it. He began to cry.
Giomar looked at his young ward in disgust, then turned to walk out of the room, "You're a man for Christ's sake. Why don't you try acting like one."
Later that evening, Marcello got his sidearm and went out to the shooting range. He sat on a bench and watched his own tears fall onto the precious gun given to him by his beloved handler. Just when he finally felt that he had gotten up the courage to us it, and had looked at what he thought would be his last sunset, he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Stefano.
"Hey." He said, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. You wouldn't understand."
"Don't be so sure, man." He said sitting next to him, "Come on, talk to me."
Marcello, feeling like he had nothing left to loose, told him everything. When he had finished, he let his gun slip threw his fingers and onto the ground.
"I guess I probably disgust you too, don't I."
"No, man," Stefano said quietly, "Nothing like that."
"It doesn't bother you that I'm… the way I am?"
"Why should it? Different stroke for different folks, I always say."
Marcello wiped his tears with the heels of his hands. "You know, I told the R&D people I was feeling this way, but they wouldn't believe me. They said it was impossible because I used to be normal."
Stefano took a deep breath. "What the hell are you talking about normal? Who's to say what normal is? Hell, you're just as normal as me or anyone else. Look, you've always struck me as a decent guy, and as far as I'm concerned that's all that matters. That's all that should matter to anyone."
Stefano picked up Marcello's gun, tucked it under his belt and led him back to the dorm. Once Stefano was back in his own room, he sat on his bed, thinking about everything Marcello had told him. He thought of his love for his handler - that pure and honest first love that everyone experiences when they are young. He thought of him gathering flowers from Claes' garden, and lovingly arranging them in a coffee mug. He thought of Giomar viciously throwing the sad little bouquet in the trash. He then felt a sudden and overwhelming sadness that was almost more then he could bare. For the first and only time in his Agency career, Stefano wept.
Paolo, having heeded Stefano's warning to keep his mouth shut, picked up a pack of cigarettes that were sitting on the table. "Hey Kevin, can I bum one off ya?"
"Go ahead."
He took one out and lit it. "Has anyone heard whether or not we're getting our guns back?"
"I talked to my handler yesterday," Stefano said, "He told me not to hold my breath."
"Wow!" Kevin said, "You finally saw him again?"
"Can you believe it? Hell, at first I didn't even recognize the rat bastard."
"Oh that's just great." Paolo said shaking his head, "I would be cleaning it right now. Everyday, if I wasn't working, I'd be sitting in this exact spot cleaning it. You know, when I first came to this fucking place, Maria told me that gun was mine and mine alone. They had no right to take it away."
There was a knock on the door.
"Entré." Stefano said.
When the door opened, they saw that it was Accorsi, one of the low rung interns. He stepped in and started sniffing and scanning the room. His eyes stopped on Paolo. "There's no smoking in this dorm."
"Yeah?" Paolo replied, flicking his cigarette ash into a pop can, "Well there's no guns in this dorm either, what the hell are you doing about that?"
"Put it out!" Accorsi said in his best authoritarian voice.
"Blow it out your ass." Paolo said.
Accorsi gave the boy a look that would peel paint. He wanted to pull out his weapon and knee-cap him, but instead decided to get his task over with and get the hell out.
"Listen up," He said, "You all need to report to the multi-media center at five o'clock."
"And why's that?" Stefano asked.
"Training videos."
"Oh come on!" Kevin said, "We've see every one of those videos a hundred times!"
"Well then I guess this'll make a hundred and one, won't it?" Accorsi said sarcastically. "Another thing, anyone of you decides to be a no show is going to get his ass wrote up."
"A write up? Oh, god forbid." Stefano said, "What are they going to do, take away one of our privileges? If that's what they have in mind then you can tell them that they're shit out of luck because we're fresh out."
"I couldn't care less if they locked you all in cages," Accorsi said, "I'm just telling you what Jean said."
"Why didn't he tell us himself?" Stefano asked, still playing his PSP.
"Well, my guess is that he has better thing to do with his time then waste it on a bunch of worthless fucks like you."
"Lovely." Stefano said, "Tell me Accorsi, isn't there an Agency rule about you speaking to us like this?"
"Yeah, as a matter of fact there is," He said with a smile, "But as far as I'm concerned, that rule only applies to the Girls. They're given that respect because they've earned it. Shit, they've earned the respect of all of SISDE. But you fuckers… the only thing you punks have earned is a one way ticket to the scrap heap!"
Accorsi waited to see how this statement would affect the boys. All he saw was Stefano playing his game, Kevin throwing his darts, Marcello reading his magazine, and Paolo rearranging his cleaning kit.
"What a fucking waste of time…" Accorsi said as he turned and walked out he door.
Marcello suddenly jumped up and ran into the hall. "Excuse me, Mr. Accorsi, Sir?"
"Yeah?"
"Have you by chance… seen Mr. Giomar today?"
"No, Marcello, I haven't"
"Oh… Ok, sorry to bother you." He stared back to the room.
"Hey, Marcello."
"Yes Sir?"
"About what I said in there, I didn't mean you. I wasn't trying to lump you in with the rest of those assholes"
"It's alright, I understand."
"What I mean is… you're a good kid, ya know?"
"Thank you Mr. Accorsi."
"If I see Giomar, I'll be sure to let him know you're looking for him, OK?"
"Thank you, Sir."
Marcello went back into the room, picked up his magazine, and began to read. Stefano played his PSP. Kevin threw darts. Paolo rearranged his cleaning kit.
It was a day like countless others before it and countless more to come.
THE END