Chapter Two

We left the madness of the Fresher's Fayre and got the bus back to our halls of residence. I dumped my coat and bag in my room and met René in the common room. There were a couple of other students hanging about, some of whom I knew, some of whom I had yet to meet, some of whom I may have met during a late night drinking session and no longer remembered. But we had all attended the brawl of the Fresher's Fayre at some point in the day, and the conversation quickly turned to the clubs we had joined.

"Oh my god, are you two mental?" squealed a posh, high-pitched voice. "You joined the morphing club? Are you crazy?"

One of my new flatmates I did remember was Penny. A girl who did not seem to understand the meaning of the verb 'to play'. I had first met her at 6am on my second day of moving in. I had just returned from a night of playful frivolity in the union bar, and Penny had just woken up after a full night's sleep. Whilst she had happily (and soberly) poured me a bowl of organic musli, I had quietly thrown up in the kitchen sink.

Penny was now sitting at the piano, trying to recite a composition. "Alex, have you any idea how dangerous that is? Or how much it costs?" she muttered."

"Not as much as most people think," said René, picking up the TV listings.

"How much does it cost?" I asked no one, pulling out my own leaflet and staring at the costs. "Hell's teeth, three hundred quid!"

"How much?" gasped Penny. "You could buy food to last for a year on that!"

"You get a good discount with the club," René said defensively. "Besides, I figured that if you're going to be in debt by the time you finish your course, you might as well squander your dosh on something you enjoy."

"Yes, but can't you take up a nice hobby?" Penny continued. "Like ballet? Or learning to play an instrument?"

René rolled her eyes and threw the morphing club leaflet at her. It hit her on the back of her head, and Beethoven's Second stopped in mid note. She picked the leaflet up and started skimming through it, shaking her head in disbelief.

"You're just like my mother," René said to her, flopping back on the greying, worn-out sofa. "Why are you so against it?"

"You realise how many ways you can get killed in this?" she said, looking René in the eye. "My uncle was in the army and a lot of his regiment used the technology. He told me he'd seen people trapped in morph, or unable to control the animals' instincts, or getting shot and not being able to demorph in time. My mummy told me that if I ever did it, she'd disown me."

"You're uncle has filled your mummy's head with biased and partial information," René said audaciously. "It's a perfectly safe sport, and the instructors know exactly what they're doing. Join it, and you'll see."

"There's no way I'm going to join such a frightful organisation," Penny said, her nose in the air. She flicked her long blonde hair over her shoulders and turned her minute frame back to the piano.

"Well, tell me that again when you watch me soaring the thermals at a thousand feet," René huffed, springing to her feet. "I'm going to have a shower, I hope to God no one's used up all my shampoo."

She left the common room and Penny went back to her practice. I gave her a slightly apologetic smile then wandered into the little kitchen and began to make myself a sandwich. Although this hall is self catered, our kitchen is tiny, and it's supposed to accommodate sixteen people. Same story with the rest of the block. Small rooms, ancient furniture and fittings, shared bathroom in which the locks don't work. Plus, I came from a fairly well-off family, which meant of course, that I was offered no grants and thus could only afford the cheapest rooms. Ah well, I guess that's the life of a student.

"You joined the morphing club then, mate?" I heard a voice behind me. John, a guy whose room was a few doors down from mine, was staring at his little shelf in the refrigerator, on which sat a single slice of bread, and, curiously, a box of mince pies. He took the slice of bread and began nibbling on it.

"Yeah," I said, offering him some butter and marmite, which he refused. "René dragged me into it. Looks good , but I wouldn't have had the guts to do it if she wasn't there."

"She's a bit mad, that one, isn't she?" John grinned. "Hot, though. If you don't have your eye on her, I might get drunk and ask her out."

I laughed and poured myself a glass of orange juice - a habit I've tried to keep up to try and avoid the inevitable Fresher's flu. "I'm trying to get to know everyone a bit better first," I said. "But yeah, she is a bit insane. I dread to think what her first morph is going to be. Probably a lion if she could manage it. Or an ox."

"You ever morphed before? I'd love to do it, but I en't got the cash."

"No, never morphed, I'm a complete newbie. But I guess in regards to money, it's gonna cost about ten times as much if you're not a student, so I might as well bite the bullet and do it while I've got the chance."

"That's what students loans are there for, right?" he smiled. "Expect mine's going on Snakey B."

I raised my eyebrows briefly in humorous acknowledgement. Even if you are pinching the last pennies from your best mate's pocket, it is an unwritten rule that all new students spend the first week of university life drinking as much alcohol as is technically possible. Snake Bite - an almost lethal concoction of beer, spirits and berry juice - is useful and inexpensive aide in achieving this drunken state.

"Yeah, well, after last night I'm never touching alcohol again," I said. "From now on, I'm going to spend my free time engaged in fun, challenging and physically stimulating sports."

"So drinking?"

"Morphing, you muppet! This idea of Renés' has given me the horn. I admit I was pretty much against it earlier, but after seeing some of those videos of third-years, I can't stop thinking how much I want to try it."

"Hmm, well, if I ever give up my Friday night parties, I might give a go. I'm not really into sports all that much. Unless you count tonsil-tennis."

I rolled my eyes and went back to my sandwich.

"What are you going to morph?" he continued. "I saw some chick do a swan on TV once, that was amazing."

"I don't know, I think you have to do some training day with fully qualified instructors, so maybe they choose your first morph for you. But I'd love to do a bird. Flying must be great."

"Aw, yeah, a bird would be good," John said wistfully. "Fly out right in the middle of those lectures. God knows how I'm gonna cope with twenty hours of statistics a week. I'm dreading it."

"Yeah." I wondered briefly why John had decided to come to university if he couldn't stand his course. "Well, we've got this welcome meeting thing on Tuesday to find out what it's all about. I'll let you know if I can acquire an elephant and tear the maths building down for you."