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Daddy was nowhere to be seen but I knew where to find him. He was in his private retreat under the house. ‘Hi Daddy.’ ‘Hi Sugar, did you enjoy yourself? No, you don’t need to answer that, how could anyone enjoy themselves with that rabble?’ ‘Most of them are okay, come on, you can’t stay down here all night.’ He reluctantly followed me out into the yard. He had little opportunity to resist because I had grabbed him firmly by the hand and dragged him from the room. Mother was in one of the couples locked together in the living room. Father poured us both a glass of milk. ‘Drink this, I find at this time of the evening a glass of milk is refreshing after all that alcohol.’ ‘But you’re not drunk.’ ‘No, but I still like my glass of milk.’ Daddy was watching Mother and Paul ‘dancing’. They stood in the centre of the floor, their feet hardly moving, whispering to each other. I was angry at Mother for being so blatant about it. Daddy’s hand grasped my upper arm firmly. ‘No Darling, it’s. It had been altered.The skin on the arm, while still brown, was a shade or two lighter than it should have been. The hand itself was refined and much smaller than his other hand, as if the bone structure had shrunk as well.The area of strangeness was still spreading. He felt the feeling of alteration enter his left shoulder and start spreading across his upper body. Jeff was near to total panic. Was he dying?Then he felt his neck being rearranged. It, too, was becoming slender and losing most of the muscles around it. "What have you done to me?" cried Jeff, but his voice was no longer his own. Instead of the bass rumble he had been used to since adolescence, he now had a high, feminine pitched voice. He looked back at his changed hand. It hadn't shrivelled. It was a woman's hand. Somehow, whatever they had injected into him was turning him female.The virus worked its way up into his head, and he could feel long, curly hair spilling onto his shoulders. The rate of change was speeding.
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