Chapter 1: A Post-Op Visit

"Why, Rick dear! What a pleasant surprise!"

Rick Harven smiled at his younger sister Lana's greeting and leaned in to give her a kiss. "So sorry for dropping in unannounced, sweetheart. I just wanted to see how Marilyn was faring after the transformation." He untied his black cape and handed it to his sister's maid Grace, who quickly scuttled out of the room. "The last time we spoke she was, uh…she was…conflicted."

Lana smiled and sighed in contentment. "Yes, I remember. But she's doing quite well. As Dr. Rex promised, everything turned out all right."

"Oh! Well, wonderful! She seemed so upset when we last spoke. Going on and on about people not talking and such."

"I know what you mean," Lana replied, gesturing for Rick to sit on the sofa. "Such prattle that made no sense. I blame Jack for it, you know. Filling her head with such nonsense, and then going and dying and leaving me to take care of her."

"Well, nothing to worry about now. After all, the transformation was a success, and I'm sure Marilyn will be out on her own soon. You'll have the freedom to do whatever you want."

"Hmm, that will certainly be nice," Lana said dreamily, running a hand through her chestnut locks.

"Lana, would it be too late to visit with Marilyn this evening? I'd like to have a word or two with her."

"Oh not at all! Go on up, she's in her room."

Rick excused himself and walked up to his niece's room. He knocked on the door and heard a sweet young voice reply, "Come in!" It startled him for a moment, not recognizing the voice. But of course he remembered that Marilyn's voice changed after the transformation. It was the same change for everyone. Granted, there were various accents based on where a person was raised and lived, differences in inflections and tones – small details that even something as comprehensive as the transformation could not eliminate.

He opened the door to find his niece, now patterned after Number 8, sitting on her bed and reading the latest issue of Electric Eyes. She looked up at the sound of the door and gave a dazzling, perfect smile. "Uncle Rick!"

He smiled back and cocked his head to one side in admonishment. "Hey what did I tell you before?"

"Sorry. Rick," Marilyn corrected herself, embracing him. "I'm so glad you came to see me!"

"Well, I wanted to see how you were handling the transformation. The last time we talked…well, you had me a little worried."

Marilyn waved it off. "Oh, I know. Those silly fears of mine. I'm sorry I worried you with them."

"So that's all it was? Just nerves?" he asked, coming to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Absolutely! Why, if I'd known how happy and good I'd feel, and how beautiful I'd be afterwards…oh well, it doesn't matter now." Marilyn turned back to her magazine.

"What are you reading, dear?" Rick asked, reaching for the magazine.

"The latest issue of EE," Marilyn replied, handing it to him. "We got it from the Bureau today as part of a "Congratulations on Your Transformation" package that everyone gets. I was getting some ideas for new clothes I want to buy."

"Really? You're going to buy new clothes?"

"Well, of course I will! Have you seen the things in my closet? All those frumpy long dresses, those drab knee length skirts and such! I'll have to throw everything out and start all over again."

Rick smiled. "And you're looking forward to doing that?"

"Mother, Val, and I are going shopping tomorrow – the whole day! We are going to build my entire closet from the ground up. I can hardly wait for the morning to come!" Marilyn was practically bouncing on the bed. Marilyn spent several minutes talking with her uncle, showing him different designs that had caught her eye as well as articles about several lovely vacation packages that she was thinking of presenting to her mother.

"Well, tomorrow sounds like it's going to be wonderful. And now, young lady," Rick said, standing up and giving his niece a kiss on the forehead, "I will leave you to get the rest you need for your day tomorrow."

"Thanks, Un-thanks, Rick!"

Rick got to the door, stopped, and turned around. "You sure you're absolutely happy, dearest?"

Marilyn positively glowed as she answered, "I've never been happier. No worries! Good night!"

"Good night," Rick smiled and left the room, shutting the down behind him. As he got downstairs, he found Lana waiting for him with his cape.

"Well? Isn't she lovely?" Lana asked as she draped the cape over her brother's shoulders.

"Hmm? Oh yes, indeed she is. Number 8 was an excellent choice. Suits her very nicely."

"And have all your fears been put to rest, my love?"

Rick gave his sister a hug. "She looks very happy. Sounds very happy. That's all I wanted. I'll head out now. Give you a call next week?"

"Sure. Good night, Rick."

Lana shut the door and Rick began his walk back to his own home. He lived nearly six blocks away, but he was more than up to the task, his body being at peak physical condition for well over 20 years now. Besides, it was a warm, clear night, and the streets were practically deserted. They were so empty in fact, that Rick practically jumped out of his skin when he heard a voice seemingly out of nowhere say, "Good evening, Mr. Harven."

"Who's there?" he asked, looking around.

From the shadows of a tree, a man with Rick's face stepped out into the light. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," he said with a German accent.

Rick's eyes fell automatically to the man's torso, where his mandatory nametag was affixed, and read the word "Sig."

"Professor Friend," he deduced.

"Mmm. I trust you have just completed my request?"

Rick nodded, feeling slightly nervous, as he usually did in the professor's presence. "I have. You have nothing to worry about."

The professor let out a sudden burst of laughter. "We shall see won't we? We shall see. Come, let me escort you a bit of the way home and we will have a bit of a talk. Yes?"

"Of course, Professor," Rick said. The two men turned and began their walk together, their gaits practically identical.

"Marilyn – what was she doing when you went to see her?" Professor Friend asked.

"She was up in her room, reading the issue of Electric Eye the Bureau sent to her."

"Good, very good. What did she say about the magazine?"

"She was using it to get ideas for clothes to buy. She's very excited about buying a new wardrobe."

"I see. And she appears…happy?"

"Yes, very happy. I asked her twice, as well as her mother."

"Ah yes, her mother. What did her mother say?"

"Lana's very happy too. They're both doing very well."

"Mmm." Professor Friend did not speak for several moments after this. Finally Rick couldn't stand the silence and spoke up.

"Professor…is there any particular reason why you asked me to visit Marilyn? I mean, I would have gone anyway, but…is there something we need to be concerned about?"

The professor smiled condescendingly. "Nothing you need to be concerned about, Mr. Harven. Your report has been very helpful."

In spite of his apprehension and the professor's dismissive remarks, Rick felt he needed to press on. "Are you concerned that the transformation didn't work correctly?"

The professor was silent for a long while, and the silence terrified Rick. He had no idea what was to come next – if he'd overstepped his bounds, and whether there would be a price to pay.

Finally, the professor said quietly, "Your brother-in-law was quite the anarchist, Mr. Harven. He filled his daughter's mind with some very dangerous, subversive ideas. The transformation cut those ideas out of her mind. I want to make sure they never have the chance to germinate again."

"Well, I don't know how that could—"

"You know exactly what you need to know, Mr. Harven," Professor Friend told him bluntly. "You have done as I asked and I appreciate your report. You may go home."

Rick's eyes fell to the ground as a child who'd been scolded would have done. "Yes, Professor." He turned and started for his home.

"Oh, and Mr. Harven!" the professor called out. Rick turned around.

"My request as well as this conversation will remain confidential, do you understand?"

"Yes, of course. Good night, sir." Rick turned and walked away as fast as he could.

After Rick had left his sight, Professor Sig lit a cigar and turned to look back in the direction that he'd come. As he smoked, the orange tip of his cigar glowing brightly in the darkness, his genetically augmented eyes searched the long line of houses for the Cuberle home. He spied it, the outdoor floodlights shining in the night. Sig would keep a close eye on Marilyn Cuberle – a very close eye. His colleagues had become far too complacent with the effectiveness of the transformation. Subversion, diversion, perversion – they were always lurking at the edges of even the most pristine of societies. And one had to be ready to eradicate disorder whenever it appeared – even when it appeared in the sweetest, most innocent, most beautiful of forms.