- 1 -

I woke before dawn, sandwiched between the delightfully muscular bodies of Sven and Stellan. Smiling dreamily as I remembered how I'd exhausted the poor dears last night, I was careful to slip out of bed without waking either of them. Sliding open the glass doors that opened directly on to the path leading to the beach, I picked up the sports bag I kept next to them and headed down the path. Naked, I sat down on the cool sand, lit a cigarette, and watched the sun slowly come up over the ocean, just as I had every morning I'd been on this private tropical island. These were minutes of total serenity for me. I knew my place in the universe and I was suffused with a feeling of happiness and contentment. It was almost over now but my week devoted to sand, sea, and sex had been joyous.

I love my life, but then I'm a princess, I'm young, I'm beautiful, and I can have almost any man I want, so why wouldn't I? I'm Diana of Themyscira, better known to the world as Wonder Woman.

But I wasn't always.

No, up until three years ago I was Maggie Jones, an overweight middle-aged single mother who was a waitress at a truck stop diner in rural Iowa. Then my son Frank switched our minds and used his persuasion power to convince the former Diana that becoming Maggie Jones was what she wanted. Freed from my former existence I embarked on a life of luxury and self-indulgence. I had always loved men and looking like I now did I was able to indulge my considerable appetite for them. All of which was just what the goddesses I now worshipped had intended. I was Wonder Woman as the hedonist they needed her to be in order to bring to fruition a world-saving plan decades in the making.

The sun having risen, I got to my feet and ran down to the sea, plunging into the cold water and swimming two laps of the island, about five miles in all. Arriving back at the beach I took the razor-edged gladius from my sports bag and spent the next hour exercising with that short sword, never once nicking myself. I hadn't towelled off on emerging from the sea, preferring to let the warm rays of the sun dry me. Finally, I took out the carefully-wrapped figurines that filled most of the sports bag and stood them on a rock at chest height to me. They were perfect reprentations of the goddesses Aphrodite, Artemis, Athena, Hera, and Hestia, *my* goddesses. Kneeling before them I offered my prayers. When I'd finished, a mellifluous voice behind me said:

"We are very pleased with you, daughter."

I rose, turned and there she was, the goddess Aphrodite, floating several inches above the sand, her godly rainment drifting about her on the non-existant breeze.

"My lady," I said, bowing deeply. "To what do I owe this unexpected honour?"

"The circle must be closed and for that to happen certain things must be revealed to you. So you need to experience those events as Madam Fatal did."

"Madam Fatal? Why do I know that name?"

"She was a cross-dressing crimefighter in the 1940s. Originally she masqueraded as a little old lady in order to put criminals off their guard, but that was a trick that could only be played so many times, and by 1944 she was presenting as a particularly athletic middle-aged woman..."

As Aphrodite spoke so I felt myself slipping away, hearing a distant church bell strike the hour.

- 2 -

A distant church bell struck the hour. It was 7 am on Tuesday May 16th, 1944, and I had already fought a battle. Following a tip-off that one of my enemies would be arriving aboard a freighter today and would be met by another, the pair intending to join forces against me. I had waited for them crouched down atop a pile of crates that were waiting to be shipped off to our fighting forces in Europe, watching as the vessel in question slowly docked. Unfortunately, the villains had escaped while I was fighting their minions leaving me where I was now, walking back to the place I'd parked my car, a red 1940 Chevrolet Coupe.

I couldn't find it.

I knew this warren of small streets near the docks like the back of my hand yet somehow, impossibly, I was lost. Then a club appeared before me, one I'd never seen before. It called itself Club Veritas. After half an hour spent wandering strangely deserted streets that had become, quite literally, a maze, I immediately knew that it was to here I had somehow been herded. I rang the bell and the door was opened by two very pretty young women wearing slips, a blonde and a brunette. Both had slender, almost boyish figures.

"You're late!" said the first.

"I am?"

"Penny's right," said the second. "Venus said you'd be here two minutes ago."

"Two minutes is hardly la..."

"No, Sophie's correct," said Penny. "Venus is very precise about these things. You'd better come in."

I entered and found myself in what was clearly a brothel, a very high class one judging by the decor, the luxurious furnishings, and the women arrayed on them, most of whom were rather more curvacious than Sophie and Penny. They were displaying their wares in all manner of interesting lingerie, some of which I'd like to have had for myself.

"Who's Venus?" I asked.

"She owns Veritas," said Penny. "She's with a client at the moment, but she'll be with you as soon as she's finished with the senator. Now you'll have to excuse us. Sophie and I have to give our own clients a proper send off."

She nodded to where two very familiar men in their thirties were accepting drinks from a tray held by a voluptuous woman clad in a corset, stockings, heels and nothing else.

"Say, isn't that...?"

"The Hollywood film star, yes," said Sophie.

"And the guy with him looks like..."

"It is," said Penny, "the famous big band leader."

With that they left me to go and drape themselves over the men.

I frowned, puzzled at such an obviously high-class establishment being in such a low rent neighbourhood and wondering how I'd never heard of it before. Given the quality of its clientele and the social circles I move in I should have. From the way that clientele was gradually leaving it must be close to closing time. Also, 'veritas' - truth? What sort of name was that for a place like this?

The door to the back room was located beneath the sweeping staircase that presumably led to upstairs rooms where the girls could service their clients in private. The door opened and one of our state senators emerged with a dark-haired young woman clad in a basque, heels, stockings, and a negligee, all scarlet. After seeing the senator off she summoned me into the room, which appeared to be her office but also had a couch along one wall.

"So your name is Venus?" I said, after she closed the door and we were alone.

"It is. I prefer Aphrodite, but the other name I'm known by serves me better in this time and place."

"Aphrodite? Like the goddess?"

"I am the goddess," she said, lifting the lid of the polished wooden box on her desk and taking out a cigarette.

Hoo boy.

"So the goddess of love is a working girl?"

"For now, yes," she said, lighting her cigarette with the desk lighter.

"So how does that work, exactly?"

"Periodically we gods each spend a decade living as mortals do," she replied, exhaling appreciatively, "but I see that you're sceptical. When it comes to those things of which I am the goddess nothing is hidden from me. You make a very attractive woman but you're male, as are Sophie and Penny."

"They are?"

"And two of my most popular girls. Probably because of the absurd laws against the healthy expression of adult sexuality in all its varieties that currently prevail in this country. It's given them the added allure of 'forbidden fruit'."

I couldn't really argue with this.

"Your real name is Richard Stanton," she continued. "You were born with the century and sent away to an all boys 'prep school' when you were eleven. You remained there until you were seventeen. It was here that you first experienced love and sex."

"Now wait just a minute...!" I sputtered.

"Boys will be boys," said Venus, calmly. "I do not judge. You played female roles in the plays the school put on and, though you yearned to play male roles too, you felt no shame that this gave you as much pleasure as it did. Nor should you have. Indeed, you later played some female roles on the Broadway stage. After your daughter was kidnapped and the death of your wife you took on your Madam Fatal identity, vowing to find your daughter. But she wasn't the first other identity you adopted, was she? No, she was the second. Before her there was Juliet Montague."

"How can you possibly know all this?"

"Goddess, remember?" said Venus, taking a long drag on her cigarette while regarding me thoughtfully. "Your wife Lucy knew about Juliet, didn't she? And she understood your need to be her."

It was clearly pointless to deny anything Venus said.

"She did," I conceded. "It was only a couple of times a month, but shedding my facial prosthetics and going out as a beautiful woman worked wonders for my mental and emotional well-being, and it made me a better husband to Lucy. She always appreciated how much more attentive I was to her needs afterwards. It's surprising how much a little flirting, some admiring looks from men, and having a dance or two could really perk me up."

"Not so surprising," said Venus. "They've always worked for me. But you stopped being Juliet."

"The kidnapping. It happened on a night I was out on the town enjoying myself as her. Had I been there as I should've been, had I not been so wrapped up in my own needs..."

"It would've made little difference."

"My head knew that," I said, "but my heart didn't believe it."

"Mortals can be so strange sometimes," sighed Venus. "Guilt is something the gods don't feel and which we have never understood."

"Gods," I said, believing it more now than I had five minutes ago. "I don't understand how but you somehow altered my perceptions to lure me here. Why?"

"To gift you something. In decades to come a new generation of heroes will arise. They will come from many places including the planet named for the god of war, from sunken Atlantis whose people still worship Poseidon, and from the hidden island where dwell my own beloved Amazons. The Amazons will send forth their favourite daughter, a princess, whose eventual fate will be neither just nor fair, though it will be necessary."

"Why will it be necessary?"

"She will be required to give up her strength, her youth, and her beauty, to give up her very identity and take on that of another in order to ensure the power is exactly where it needs to be at the precise moment it needs to be there. The chain of events that lead her to that destiny begins today with you."

"What do you mean by 'the power'?"

Venus placed her cigarette in an ashtray then snapped her fingers. A small glowing sphere appeared above them, about an inch in diameter and milky like a pearl.

"Hold out your hand," she said.

It was a request, but one neither I nor any other mortal could have refused. The sphere slowly floated over to me and gently touched down on my palm, gradually sinking into it until nothing remained. I hadn't felt a thing, but I knew that everything had changed.

"And now the power is yours," she said. "Others will do your bidding if you instruct them while your flesh is touching theirs. If you touch the flesh of two people you can swap their minds. And when you are ready you can pass these powers to another, but be careful. Once transferred they cannot be returned to you. You will know how to effect the transfer when the time arrives."

Retrieving her cigarette from the ashtray she took a long, final drag before slowly and regretfully stubbing it out.

"Finding someone to carry the power was the final task given me," she said, "so now it's time for me to shed this mortal form. Oh, and you'll find your car parked outside."

So saying she went over to the couch, laid down on it, crossed her arms over her chest, and died.

I didn't quite believe it at first, but when I checked she had no pulse, nor did a mirror held close to her nose and mouth show the slightest sign of breath. She was gone.

- 3 -

I blinked... and I was once again me, was Princess Diana, standing on the beach with Aphrodite. So immersive had what I had just experienced been that, just like waking from a particularly vivid dream, it took me a moment or two to realise it wasn't 1944 and I wasn't Madam Fatal.

"That human body was just a construct," explained Aphrodite. "Once I departed it was like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Police could find no cause of death nor any record of Venus Collins prior to ten years earlier when I appeared in my first local beauty contest. I won it of course, as I did several others on the local circuit. The next mention they found of me was five years after that when I was living with a friend from the circuit and the friend's husband. A year later, after I had moved on, my friend gave birth to sextuplets. I next appeared on the police radar two years later when I got arrested several times for soliciting. I assume you understand why all this and why I chose Madam Fatal to be the first bearer of the power?"

"I read up on all the goddesses I worship, my lady, so I know that you are variously the goddess of love, beauty, victory, fertility, and even prostitution. The contests you won cover beauty and victory, the couple with the triplets cover love and fertility, while Club Veritas covers prostitution, of course. Hermes, the messenger of the gods, fathered your son Hermaphroditus, whose name combined yours and his father's. He was the epitome of effeminacy and androgyny, hence your choice of Madam Fatal."

"Very good, daughter; we are pleased. Before I am called back by Olympus is there anything else you would have me show you?"

"Frank's step-sister," I said after a moment's thought, "show me what happened there."

"As you wish."

- 4 -

The day that changes your life forever usually starts like any other.

Mine certainly did.

It began with me sitting at my vanity, doing my make-up. The final part of the process was always my lip gloss and, as I usually did after I'd applied it, I sat back on the stool and examined my reflection approvingly. I fluffed up my hair, loving how it felt brushing my bare shoulders. Standing up, I took a few steps in my strappy, four inch heels before adjusting my breasts in their tube top, patting my naked midriff, and running my hands down over my butt, across which was stretched the seat of my 'spray-on' jeans. Everything was still reassuringly firm. I'd be devastated if it wasn't.

Then I frowned, something I hated doing since it could lead to lines. I was Rebecca Ross and I knew I was the very definition of a beautiful young Californian - going blonde at thirteen, having a personal trainer since fourteen, and Sam paying for a nose job and cheek lifts for me at fifteen had seen to that - but nothing could stop the march of time. I worried that I was already twenty-four and I'd yet to make any sort of mark as an actress. Socially, I was part of the young Hollywood set, but more because of who Sam was than as a result of anything I'd accomplished myself. Even so, it took money to keep up appearances, to never be seen in the same outfit twice and suchlike. But now Sam was threatening to limit my spending, which would be disastrous. It's so unfair, but he refuses to understand. Sighing, I grabbed my car keys and made my way downstairs.

I paused at the door to the patio and gazed across to where my stepfather was ensconced in his wicker armchair beside the pool, reading a film script. He was dressed in sandals, Bermuda shorts and a wide open bathrobe, none of which did anything to hide the thick coating of hair that covered his legs, his arms, and his enormous belly, everywhere in fact save for the top of his head. The table beside him held half a dozen cellphones, the bottle of wine he was currently working his way through, and an ashtray in which he would occasionally deposit ash from the enormous cigar he was chomping on. Sam had recently turned sixty-three. What with his smoking and drinking, his sedentary lifestyle, and how overweight he is, he should be on the verge of a heart attack or some other major health problem, but according to his doctors he has the constitution of an ox and could probably continue like this for another twenty years, more's the pity. Steeling myself, I opened the door and walked over to him.

"Good morning, Sam," I said.

"'Mornin', princess!" he replied, beaming. He was always so happy to see me. "You headin' somewhere?"

"I'm off to pick up Johnny. You wanted me to bring him over for lunch, remember?"

"Oh, right, right - lookin' forward to meetin' the boy. You be sure'n drive safely now, y'hear!"

"I will, I promise," I said, planting a kiss on top of his bald head.

Leaving him to his script and his phone deals, I trotted down the steps to the garages. My pink BMW was parked in front of their doors where I'd left it last night. It was already more than a year old, but Sam was refusing to buy me a newer model until I'd had it at least another year. The old skinflint's tightfistedness was driving me crazy! Gritting my teeth angrily, I put the car in drive and sped off.

I drove down to the gates, which were already opening to allow Luis the gardener through. Every morning he would bicycle in from wherever it was he lived and spend the day tending to the garden and the plants, both those inside and outside the house.

"Good morning, Senorita Rebecca," he said, doffing his cap as I sped past him.

Luis was over seventy now and had been the gardener here since before I was born. Tall and skinny, he had more nose than his acne-scarred face could really justify, and though a hard worker he was creepily effeminate. He often wore nail polish and I once caught him holding one of my mother's dresses against his body while he pranced about in front of a mirror. I'm okay with someone being gay, but a man should still be a man and act like one. I'd wanted him gone for a long time now, and I'd be getting my way very soon. Thanks to a phone call I made yesterday, Luis would be getting some unwelcome visitors this afternoon.

On my drive along Sunset Strip I passed a massive billboard advertising the forthcoming Wonder Woman movie starring Matt Crowe and Amy Kelley. Matt Crowe was a legitimate movie star, but Amy Kelley had been plucked from nowhere and given the role of a lifetime alongside him. It wasn't fair. Why her and not me? It should say 'starring Matt Crowe and Rebecca Ross' on that poster. But then some people get those breaks and others - like me - do not. Still, at least I got one lucky break when I hooked up with my boyfriend, Johnny Limbaugh. He's a struggling actor, but he's also amazing. No one's ever gotten me the way he does.

Johnny was waiting for me at the table in the far corner of the Starbucks where we'd agreed to meet. A few years older than me, he was tall, handsome, and currently dressed in jeans, an open-necked white shirt, and a leather jacket. Seeing me enter he rose to his feet, and when I reached him we hugged and kissed before sitting down. We'd been lovers for months but I'd only told Sam about him yesterday. There was something different about him today. Then I spotted it.

"New jewellery?" I said, pointing to the beaten copper bracelet on his wrist. It had a stylised eye engraved on it.

"What? Oh, yeah...right," he said, caught off guard at first, but only for a moment. Then his eyes lit up. "It's...ah! Yes! That's it! It's called the Bracelet of Klaatu, and it's the answer to all your problems."

"It is?"

"Did you make the two phone calls I asked you to?"

"I did."

"So everything is set?"

"Yes, it is."

"Excellent! You told me you wanted your stepfather gone so you'd inherit everything but were hesitant to arrange his death. This was because you hadn't seen his will and so couldn't be sure he'd left it all to you. With the Bracelet of Klaatu we can get rid of Sam without killing him while at the same time making sure he *has* left everything to you."

"How is a bracelet going to do that, Johnny?" I asked, puzzled by this and frowning despite myself.

"Because it's magic."

"Magic? There's no such thing as magic."

Johnny took my hands in his.

"Believe me when I tell you there is," he said.

And believe him I did.

No sooner had we arrived back at the house and climbed out of my BMW than I received a text on my phone.

"It's them," I told Johnny. "They're on their way."

"Earlier than expected," he said, "so we'd better move fast."

He bounded up the stairs to the swimming pool with me right behind him, then crossed the patio to where Sam was still sitting in his wicker chair, Luis tending to the rosebush behind him.

"Becky's boyfriend," said Johnny, holding out his hand, "pleased to meet you, sir."

Slightly taken aback by Johnny's abrupt arrival, Sam nevertheless took his hand and shook it.

"Pleased to meet you too, son," he said.

Then something unexpected happened. Johnny held out his free hand and Luis took it.

"Klaatu barada nikto!" said Johnny, words that sounded vaguely familiar, then he released Sam's hand.

A look of wonder came over Sam's face, and he raised his own hands to it, looking at them as if he'd never seen them before. Johnny was talking to Luis, whose hand he was still holding.

"You are now Luis Perez," he said. "You're seventy one years old and originally from Mexico. You've been living and working illegally in this country for decades. You will never do or say anything to anybody to contradict this, and you will speak with his Mexican accent only. I know you never bothered to learn Spanish, but sprinkle those few words you do know into your conversation. Now relax, take a seat, and I'll get back to you."

I'd listened to this and not understood any of it.

"Why are you telling Luis who he is and to speak with a Mexican accent?" I said. "He knows who he is, and he already does."

"Not quite, Senorita," said Sam. Senorita?

"I switched your father's mind with Luis's," said Johnny.

"It's true," said Sam, and now that I looked closely I could see there was something different about him.

"Magic," I said, finally catching up, "you said the bracelet was magic, but how does this help me get what I want?"

At that moment the entry buzzer sounded.

"Patience, my darling," said Johnny, pressing the button on a poolside post that opened the gates. "Unless I'm very much mistaken that's the ICE agents arriving at the gate. Since you're the one who called them in it should probably be you who goes down to greet them. While you do that, I'm going to have a little heart-to-heart with your stepfather."

I did as Johnny asked, my mind racing as I trotted down the steps. Luis had been ready for the swap and was speaking with Sam's accent, which meant Johnny must have arranged this beforehand, yet he never told me. I started to worry about what else he might not have told me, but I was too committed to back out now.

The car containing a pair the ICE agents rolled to a stop next to my BMW. They were here to take Luis away. Since I'd reported him and told them where he'd be and when, a whole team had hardly been necessary. When they got out of the car I took them up to Luis - or rather, Sam - was waiting meekly.

"And you only recently learned Mr Perez was an illegal?" said the lead agent, as his companion used a zip tie to handcuff Sam.

"That's correct," said the real Luis smoothly, sounding for all the world like Sam. "We're a law-abiding family who love America, so of course we did our duty and reported him as soon as it came to our attention. I'm only sorry we didn't learn about his status earlier."
"Hmmm," said the agent, looking at Luis dubiously. "Well, you all have a nice day. By this time tomorrow the illegal will be back in Mexico, where he belongs."

When Sam had been led away, I turned to Johnny.

"Now what?" I asked, exasperated at not being fully in on his plans.

"Now Luis takes the second meeting you set up," he replied, "the one with your stepfather's lawyers."

Which is how a couple of hours later Johnny and I found ourselves sitting at a table in another Starbucks, this one across the road from the building containing the offices of Sam's lawyers. Our window seat gave us a perfect view of it, but I was worried.

"He's been in there an awfully long time," I said. "What if he double- crosses us and keeps all Sam's money for himself?"

"He won't, my love, I promise you," said Johnny, laying his hands over mine. "Please stop fretting."

It was at that moment that Luis emerged from the building. As we crossed the road to meet him he grinned and gave us the thumbs up.

"It all went perfectly," he said. "Not for a moment did anyone suspect I wasn't him."

"So everything comes to me?" I said. "You confirmed it?"

"Yes," said Luis, "and it always did. Your dad left it all to his beloved stepdaughter. But I had the lawyers sign everything over to you now, so you don't have to wait. As of ten minutes ago you own everything."

"That's wonderful, but what about you? You have his body now so the world will think you are him."

"Don't worry. After today we'll never see each other again."

"Good, good, but I have other questions," I said.

"And they will be answered," said Johnny, taking my shoulders and steering me towards where I'd parked my BMW, "but let's return to the house first."

Which we did. It was so strange seeing the wicker chair empty. Sam would always be there at this time of day, making his deals, and bringing new movies into existence. His had never been the most prestigious of movies, nor had any ever won an Oscar, but he had still been a successful producer for a very long time. Now he was just another illegal immigrant from Mexico that 'La Migra' had finally caught up with. I felt a little bit guilty about that, but only a little. It served him right for being so mean to me.

"Time for the final phase," said Johnny from behind me.

"Huh, what?" I said, turning around.

As I did so he took my hand and Luis's. I felt a brief moment of dislocation, and then I was gazing at a pretty young blonde looking sharp in heels, tight jeans, and a tube top. It took a second for my brain to realise that she was me and I was viewing her through eyes that weren't my own. Stunned, I looked down at myself, at Sam's body, and then I screamed.

"Hush, now," said Johnny, "we don't want to bring the neighbours running. Now stay calm, and stay still."

Him saying it was all it took to make it so.

Luis was running his (her?) hands over my former body and laughing delightedly.

"It's been over fifty years since my family kicked me out," she said, her voice choking. "They called me 'puto' because they had no concept of what being transsexual meant and neither did I, not then. But I learned. I came to understand myself, to accept what it was I wanted to be: a woman. But I didn't want to be an ugly woman, which is all I could be given the face I had, I wanted to be beautiful. And now I am. I'm female, I'm gorgeous, and I'm young again."

"You...you didn't say the spell," I said, wanting to cry, or scream, or collapse and roll up into a foetal ball, but being unable to do so because Johnny told me to stay calm.

"There is no spell," he chuckled, "and the bracelet is just something I bought from a craft shop this morning because I liked the design. When you made a fuss about it I decided to have a little fun with you."

"Fun?!" I said, voice trembling. "This is your idea of fun?!"

"No," he said, "only the spell shtick was fun. The rest is deadly serious."

"We were lovers for months," I pleaded, "and we were good together. I don't understand why you'd do this to me."

"We were never lovers. Until two days ago we hadn't even met. When I learned of your existence I wanted to discover what sort of person you were, so I found you, took your hand and told you we'd been lovers for months. People believe whatever I tell them when I'm touching them. Now that you believed we were lovers you trusted me, so you told me you needed your father dead, and you wanted me to help kill him."

"But why do this at all? Why seek me out in the first place?"

"Your stepfather adopted you when he married your mother, but you don't use his name professionally, do you?"

"You know I don't."

"Why is that again?"

"Because Rebecca Becker sounds stupid, and Becky Becker sounds even worse. I got teased too much in school to want to continue using it."

"He's not wrong," said Luis, looking up from the make-up mirror she had found in my purse, "it does sound stupid. I'm going to use the Becker name, so I'll need a new one that works with it. I had a few days to think about it, and I've decided to play safe and go with 'Louise'."

"You're not the only one not using their actual name," Johnny said to me. "My real name is Frank, Frank Becker. I'm Samuel Becker's illegitimate son."

"Oh my god!"

"Our father always denied paternity and never gave my mother a dime in child support while I was growing up. Mom and I had nothing when I was a kid, so to discover he'd given you everything he denied us and that it wasn't enough for you, that you wanted more and were prepared to kill him to get it, turned my stomach. I came here to get revenge on my father, but when I googled him and found out about you I thought that maybe here was someone I could have some sort of family relationship with. Instead I found an evil, spoiled brat!"

"Johnny, I..."

"Shut up!" he said, grabbing my hand once more. "My name's Frank, and I don't want you speaking to either of us again unless spoken to."

He turned to Louise, who was still primping and preening.

"Fill him in on everything else that went down," he said.

"My pleasure, handsome. Turns out you weren't the only one Frank checked out. He found me a few nights ago in my local bar and we got to talking. I thought he was just a stranger being friendly, but he'd been watching you, seen how you treated me, and was actually weighing me up. He decided I was good folks, so he demonstrated his powers, had me reveal my deepest desire to him while doing so, and put a proposition to me. If I helped him out, I would get to be you. The house and most of Sam Becker's money, would also be mine. I agreed. Of course I did. When I was in Sam's body and arranging things with his lawyers, I signed an affidavit acknowledging Frank as my son and had a million dollars transferred to his bank account as restitution for unpaid child support. I then told them I was ready to go into a retirement home and wanted my daughter to have power of attorney over my affairs. I signed the documents giving her that power, documents you have to countersign. Now that I am you I'll call in there again and sign them tomorrow. Frank has already lined up the retirement home you're going to."

"I made all the arrangements when I went there yesterday," said Frank. "At first, Oceanview Retirement Village insisted they didn't have any vacancies, but I can be very persuasive. They'll be coming to pick you up as soon as I give them a call, which I'll do while you're packing."

He took my hands again.

"You are now Samuel J. Becker," he said. "You will never do or say anything to anybody to contradict this, nor will you seek to leave the retirement village. You should go and pack now, Sam."

And so I did. With leaden feet I shuffled up to my stepfather's room, appalled by the effort it took me now that I was seriously overweight and no longer had the energy of youth. Seeing my hairy, liver-spotted hand on the stair banister I shuddered. In place of elegant fingers ending in long, perfectly painted nails I had these great ugly things with their bitten down nails. The sight should have reduced me to a sobbing mess, but thanks to Frank ordering me to be calm it didn't. Nevertheless when I got to the room I couldn't bear to look at myself in a mirror, so instead I just concentrated on the task at hand, filling a travel case with Sam's clothing and toiletries.

When I returned to the patio, Frank and Louise were talking animatedly, but now they were standing closer together. Her body language was speaking volumes about what she wanted, but Frank seemed oblivious.

"What will you do now?" she asked him, licking her lips.

"I took a week of vacation time to come here, so I'll be flying back to DC and resuming my job as a lobbyist. Also, I'm finally in a position where I can lure the person my mom wants to swap lives with to a place where I can pull the switch, so I need to get on that, too."

"If you took a week of vacation time," said Louise, gently placing a hand on his shoulder, "then by my reckoning you still have a couple of days left, days you could spend here. With me."

"What...what are you saying?"

It was the first time I'd ever seen him flustered.

"I'm saying that we're both young and healthy, we're both hot, and I really want to show you how much I appreciate what you've done for me. I know we're now legally step-siblings, but it's not as if we're blood relatives. So what do you say?"

A smile slowly spread across Frank's face.

"You know, you're right," he said, "I *do* have a couple of days vacation time left, and this would be the perfect place to spend them."

The buzzer sounded again, and Frank pressed the button to let in the minibus that Oceanview had sent over to carry me off to my new life. My last sight before I heaved my travel case down the steps to meet it was of Frank and Louise kissing, their beautiful young bodies locked in a passionate embrace.

- 5 -

"The ways of the Fates are mysterious," said Aphrodite as my mind returned to the present. "The choice of Madam Fatal to carry the power into the world may have been their way of signalling how it would often be used before leaving the mortal realm, as it always had to."

"Wasn't there another way?" I asked.

"None. Only the death of the one wielding them could release them. Thank the Fates for making it so that Frank wasn't still that one."

"The Fates," I mused, "you set the ball rolling but it was the Fates who directed it."

"Yes, they no more wanted to see everything fall into eternal night than did we. And they have looked kindly on you and on Frank. You have the youth and beauty of the princess you now are and will always be, while they have not only given Frank his life but, I suspect, something more, something that will become apparent in the months to come."

"And you can't say what?"

"I cannot. Now I must depart. Farewell, beloved daughter..."

She faded away to nothing then, her final wisps borne away on the gentle breeze that had sprung up.

I watched this wistfully, then turned and packed my things away in the sports bag. Time to wake up Sven and Stellan, and for the three of us to work up an appetite for breakfast. I headed back up the beach, smiling at the prospect.

Gods, I love my life!

The End

Madam Fatal appeared in Quality's CRACK COMICS #1-22 (May 1940 - March 1942). The sole appearance to date of the later version of the character was in DC's THE SHADE #4 (2012).