The University Morphing Club

"Alex! Over here!"

I strained my head above the level of the crowd, trying with immense difficulty to locate the source of my friend's voice. I wasn't even sure if it had been René who was even calling me. There might be a hundred Alex's in this room. The level of noise in this place was atrocious. People were shouting, chatting loudly and laughing madly. I passed a couple of girls in pink cheerleading outfits giggling like some kind of fluffy, mutant pig. They were handing out flyers to equally fluffy passers by, calling every girl within earshot 'darling' or 'babe.' Good grief. I could barely hear myself think.

"By the stand with the purple flag!"

René 's powerful voice cut again through the racket of the mob; at last I was sure where she was. I pushed and shoved my way through the herds, finally coming to within earshot of her.

"Sheesh, it's so hot in here," she complained, struggling to take off her jacket among the tidal wave of students thrusting against her. "They really should have a limit as to how many people can come in at a time." She gave up on the jacket, and took a handful of leaflets from her pocket. "Sorry I lost you back there. You get anything good?"

"A few bits and pieces. 'Spect I'll join the drama club," I said. "Maybe try out for the rugby team. You?"

"Gonna go for the karate club," René said. "Been training for a few years now, really want to go for my Black belt before I'm old and rusty. Although I might give it a little practise right now and kick the butt of this guy behind me who seems to think that staring at a gal's chest during a conversation about gradings is a acceptable thing to do."

I didn't doubt this. As well as being built like a tank, René had the attitude of a bull during mating season. She was sexy and attractive, but just a little bit scary at times.

"Want to head back to halls then?" I asked her, eager to get out into the fresh air, where I might stand a chance of being able to breath again.

"In a sec," she said with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "There's just one more stall I have to visit first."

Anyone who has ever been a university student will understand the full horrors that make up the annual Fresher's Fayre. A thousand and one first year collage students, out of the confines of home life for the first time, packed into a room smaller than a football field is not going to be a comfortable experience for anyone. Add to that a couple of dozen stands and tables, with people standing on them throwing out pens, slinky springs and sweets, businesses with large, brightly coloured posters advertising the names of their clubs and bars in the local area (often handing out free shots of vodka), and you'll have something vaguely resembling a pack of lions at feeding time. The Fresher's Fayre is effectively an event run by the university, in the first week of term, for new students to sign up to a range of sports and social clubs. Local entrepreneurs, particularly of the beverage-based variety, also set up stalls and target young, inexperienced boozers. It is generally held in a large room, like the gymnasium in which I was currently being mercilessly crushed to death, where the committees of these clubs can set up stalls and stands for potential new members to visit. Students can then come and browse the different stands, taking up new interests or continuing existing ones, chat to the third-years who ran them, and hand out large chunks of their student loans in the form of membership payments. Whilst the theory of this event is to host a mature, organised exhibition, the reality is far different.

There were stands on just about every sport known to man, from the high-adrenaline 'extreme' sports such as snowboarding or surfing, to the 'it's a sport - honest!' ones like golf and chess. Or you could join a non-sport-based society, such as the aptly-named 'wine taster's society' (yeah, right) or the slightly more obscure armpit-sniffer's society (takes place in the men's changing rooms). Whatever your age, race or gender, there was a sport or society for you - and the organisers of these clubs made sure you knew that. Everywhere you looked, there was some random guy or crazy bird thrusting a flyer or leaflet into your face.

"Hill walking club, dude?"

"Pot holing, mate?"

"Netball? Ooh, silly me, you're a bloke! This is gal's only!"

And similar remarks. By the time I had moved three feet towards René , I had already been forcibly handed about a dozen leaflets. I glanced down at a few of them, but dropped the majority on the floor, to be trodden on with a thousand other discarded advertisements.

I had been told, upon starting university, that if you wanted to try out for one of the popular sports, like football or basketball, you had to get there earlier or you'd never make it to the sign-up queue, due to the sheer number of students who wanted to join. This was true, and it had taken the best part of twenty minutes to even get hold of a pen and registration form for the rugby club. However, as René dragged my through the throngs, I noticed that there was a great deal of excitement around the stand of the sport that René was attempting to fight her way over to.

"My cousin did this in her first year, and she's been making me green with jealousy ever since," René announced, as we finally made our way to the front of the queue. "The university morphing club. Oh, man, I have to try it!"

I blinked at her, slightly confused. "Morphing? That changing into animals thing? The public can do it now?" I stared up at the posters on the temporary wall of the stand, which depicted smiling students halfway through various freaky transformations.

"Course!" she cried. "Clubs are opening up all over the country now they've finally got the legalities sorted! It's not just for the military now, you know. You ever seen anyone do it?"

"Might have seen it once or twice on TV," I said. "Looks a bit gross to me."

"Hell no!" she said. "It's mega to watch, and according to my cousin, even better to actually do!"

She grabbed a pen and sign-up form, and began scribbling her details, muttering curses as kids bashed and pushed against her.

"You interested, mate?" one of the club committee members asked me. He was standing on the other side of the stand, ready to pass me a sign up form. There were another two or three members standing behind the stall, all wearing matching black tee-shirts with the name of their club and rude nicknames printed across the chest.

"Course he is, Vompire!" cried a perky blonde girl, who was also part of the committee. She slapped him playfully on the back then turned to me.

"I tell you hun, once you've been a cat, there's no going back! Look at this - we got some videos of us on the last meeting of last year."

She laughed hysterically and passed me an MP4 player.

"This is me, morphing a kitty," she said. "Don't watch my face, I look dreadful from that angle."

I watched in horror and fascination as the girl on the screen shape-shifted into a cat before my very eyes. I don't know about her face looking dreadful, but it was certainly disturbing.

"Pretty cool, huh?" she giggled. "This is Tom, here, morphing a dog."

"As you do…" I muttered in slight disbelief.

The video switched scenes, and I watch the guy she'd called Vompire swaggering about laughing as his face stretched out into the muzzle of a black Labrador.

"Whoa," I said. "That's weird."

"He was drunk when he did that," the girl added. "It look about ten minutes just to get a tail."

I'd seen professionals morph on various TV shows and documentaries on the war against the Yeerks over the last few years, but this was the first time I'd seen someone I recognised do it themselves. Now I could have the chance to do it? I had no idea what to think. It was one of those sports which, like skydiving, everyone wanted to try, but no one actually had the guts to go out and try. The thought of being another animal filled me with excitement, but it also filled me with dread. There were so many things that could go wrong - I'd seen plenty of articles in the newspaper about under trained soldiers in the army being stuck as worms or roaches or whatever, and their families attempting to sue the heck out of the MoD for making them use the technology. Or, even worse, those idiots who took part in illegal 'extreme morphing' - throwing themselves out of planes or off cliffs in the hope of morphing a bird before they fell smack into the ground.

René looked up from filling in her form, appearing to read my mind.

"What are you waiting for?" she asked. "You're doing this too, you know."

"Am I? Since when did I loose the right to make my own decisions?"

"I'm not doing this by myself," she asserted. "Besides, you'll love it. It's awesome, insane and very, very cool."

How did I become friends with this girl?

"You've always wanted to fly, right? Who hasn't? Or maybe you'd prefer something like a gorilla. You look like you could do with a bit of muscle on you."

"Alright!" I said, scribbling my name and address on the form. "I'll join, just to shut you up."

"Anyway," she continued, barely taking a breath, "uni's about trying stuff you've never done before! Once you get into the world of work, you probably won't get another chance, unless you get one of those fancy corporate jobs which pay graduates six figures and offer morphing weekends as training schemes. Let me know if you find one of those," she added.

"I already said I'll do it, didn't I?" I said, handing my form to the guy in charge. "What goes on now? I asked him.

"There's a welcome meeting for all new members next Tuesdays in the lecture hall next to the library," he said. "You know where the library is yet?"

I shook my head and he passed me a map, with 'lecture hall C' circled in red marker.

"Well, you will by your third year, believe me. Anyway, the meeting will tell you all you need to know about the club. Morphing, training weekends, costs, all that stuff. Members will probably want to show off some of the morphs they acquired over the summer as well. My mate Scott got a polar bear, lucky beggar."

"Cool," I said. "I've never morphed before - I don't even have the technology. Is that ok?"

"Sure - most people come along having never done it before. That's why we do training days. You go along, learn the theory, get the power and morph a few basic animals. Once you show the instructors you can do it well and take control of the animal, you get your licence. Sorted - morph anywhere. Lucy'll explain it all in more detail at the welcome meeting though. She's the mad one who thinks she can run the club."

The perky blonde girl twirled round at the sound of her names. "Yeah - make sure you come, it's gonna be mega fun!"

"Oh don't worry, we will!" René laughed. She took one of the information booklets Lucy was handing out, and passed one to me. "You're name's on the list now," she said in a mock sinister voice. "No turning back!"

"Yeah, well, if we could get back to halls now? I think I'll be boiled alive if I stay here any longer."