Sex Change Experiment - Intro

 ALL STORY LIST | PARTS - PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | FINAL PART - 1 | FINAL PART - 2

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real-life individuals or events is purely coincidental. All characters, events, and situations depicted are entirely fictional.

"You know, people only use fifteen percent of their brain capacity," Andy said.

"Speak for yourself, Andy," Phil replied.

"No, I'm serious." We can test for brain activity with EEGs, positron emission systems and the like; never seems to be more than about fifteen percent. It's like there's blocks to keep us from using more."

"So?"

"So! Phil, you're a fairly smart guy; partner in that big law firm within a couple years."

"Junior partner."

"Even so, that's pretty good from what you tell me. That's with only fifteen percent of your brain working. Imagine if you were able to work with your entire brain capacity."

"Ha! I'd rule the world." He laughed good-naturedly at the joke, and Andy joined him.

The two men were an odd pair. Andy was Dr. Andrew Hoffmann, M.D., Ph.D., professor of psychology at Whitmere University. He was a tall, slender man with thinning sandy color hair worn long. He was dressed, as usual, in a sweater over a work shirt and tie and a pair of faded jeans. His hands were in constant, expressive motion as he spoke. 

Phil was Philip J. McNierney, junior partner at Chase, Allen and Rice, one of the most prestigious law firms in the city. He was a handsome man of average height, wearing a three-piece suit and tie that made him look as if a GQ® ad had come to life. His wavy black hair was cut in the short, conservative style favored by his firm's managing partner.

The two men had met in high school and surprised themselves as much as everyone else by becoming best friends, even though they came from entirely different backgrounds. 

Andy's father worked on the docks and his mother waited tables. Phil's father had turned the small manufacturing company he had inherited into a multi-million dollar corporation with interests across the U.S. 

Both boys were top students, though, and among the best athletes in their school, but even when they had been rivals for the same sports trophy, the same academic honor, even for the same girl, they had never let it interfere with their friendship. Phil once joked that they even competed to see who had the best explanation for why they remained friends. Both men claimed to have come up with the answer that they usually gave, "Being able to compete against him makes me look good."

They even had a joke worked out. If they were together when someone asked, one of them (they kept track and took turns) would give the answer. Then they would say "Besides, I usually win." in perfect unison and glare at each other until somebody got the joke. 

Now they were in The Legal Eagle, a bar near Phil's office, to celebrate. Phil had just won a major civil case with a settlement of close to $20 million the day before. Andy's research grant was being renewed for another two years at a substantial increase in funding.

"Tell me again what this big grant of yours is for," Phil asked.

"Okay, if we didn't need all that extra capacity for something, I don't think we'd have it. I'm trying to find out what we actually use it for."

"Makes sense. But if you can't track it with any of those fancy gadgets, how do you even know that it's being used?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out. I have a hunch that it gets used some of it, at least at the subconscious level."

"Doing what?"

"Running all those things we need to keep living but never think about; keeping our hearts beating, remembering to breathe, stuff like that. I think I can use this new drug that I've been working on to tell it to do something else."

"Make somebody's heart stop beating or make him or her forget to breathe? The Law takes a dim view of that, Andy."

"No. Look! Suppose I could give my stuff to somebody who lost his hand in an accident and tell him that it was going to grow back. His brain believes it, and it tells the stump to grow a new hand. Would that be useful?"

"Your stuff can do that? Tell me, you did incorporate last year, didn't you?"

"C'mon, you did the papers. In fact, you're one of the officers in the corporation, you, my Dad, and me."

"I know. I just wanted to remember how it happened that I got to be so rich so young."

"You're not rich yet. I haven't proved that it works yet. All my test subjects to date have been animals. I can show that it doesn't do any harm and that it seems to activate some sections of the brain that we've never seen working before, but you can't tell a wounded dog to grow a paw back. You can, but it won't understand."

"So you need a human subject?"

"Yeah, and the paperwork to get approval for human experimentation is frightening. The application must be a good thousand pages, and it needs to be done in quintuplicate. It'll take me the rest of this grant period just to get the thing filled out and approved."

"What if somebody filed a waiver stating that they were fully aware of all the risks, taking full responsibility for themselves, and absolving you or the university of any possible blame or fault?"

"Maybe, if it was absolutely airtight wait a minute, what exactly are you saying?"

"I'll take the stuff."

"No way am I going to do that! You're crazy."

"No, I'm perfectly sane. I'll toss in a statement to that effect from the psychiatrist my firm keeps on retainer. Look, you need a human subject. Despite everything you may have heard about lawyers, we are human and I trust you. More to the point, I trust your judgment. If you think it'll work, then I do, too. And, if I'm willing to get filthy rich from the profits of this drug, then I should be willing to take some of the risk to prove that it works."

"I need a test subject, but I don't want to risk my best friend. Look, we were supposed to go away for that two-week fishing trip next month; that lodge your firm owns on Lake Cody. There's a good hospital, Frazier General, about ten minutes from there. They can transfer to the University Medical Center, if we need that. I'll bring the drug, plus some equipment up with me. If you're still willing then, we'll do it. I'll do it."

"Fine. I'll start on the paperwork tomorrow. Drop a copy of that federal application off at my office. I'll probably want to crib some language."

"Don't get too caught up in this. I want you to spend some of the time thinking about what you're getting yourself into."

A rather nervous grad student brought the application to the firm the next afternoon. "Dr. Hoffmann asked me to drop this off," he said fidgeting back and forth in Phil's office, feeling out of place in the rich surroundings. "He said to tell you he couldn't get out of some faculty meeting, and you should call him after you read it."

Phil took the papers and gave the student ten dollars for his trouble; the kid looked like he could use it. After a quick read, Phil could see that the forms were as bad as Andy had said they were. "I never saw a government form that didn't take six paragraphs to say what it could say in one," he thought.

Still, it did ask and answer a lot of very specific questions about possible risks the subjects would face  he would face; safeguards that would be in place, ways of finding out as early as possible if anything had gone wrong and what might be done about it. Andy was right. It was a serious reading and a lot to think about.

Andy came by Phil's office the next day with another form. "More reading?" Phil asked.

"Not much, just a standard medical release form from Doug Reilly. By the way, you have an appointment with him the day after tomorrow. Your secretary set it up."

"Why, and what do you need the form for?" Doug Reilly had been doctor to both men since he'd taken over his father's practice, when the pair was in high school.

"If I'm going to change your body, I need baseline data. I need to know what I'm changing it from. This form gets me access to all your records, so I can chart your health for the last couple of years. In addition, I need to know if there's anything that the drug might react to or with. Maybe even find something else that I want to change."

"There's nothing wrong with me that needs fixing. If there was, Doc Reilly would have told me as soon as he found it."

"Sometimes you don't worry a patient. A man with, say, a high risk for cancer doesn't have cancer. A doctor will just note the higher risk and check the indicators from time to time to see if anything's happened."

"Okay, but do I understand that you don't know yet what you're going to do to me?"

"I could make it simple. Cut off a few fingers, or even a hand, and tell it to grow back. However, I'm not certain that the drug will work. If it didn't, well, I've known you too long to start calling you "Lefty."

"Gee, thanks."

"I could make you grow a tail, but that would interfere with the cut of your suits. No, I'm looking for a change that's showy enough to be dramatic, but shouldn't be a problem if the stuff doesn't work. By the way, can I get a spare key to the lodge? I want to take some equipment up there to set up part of a lab in one of the rooms so I can monitor and record what happens if it does work."

"We are going to have time to fish, aren't we?"

"We better, but I'll need time each day to do some tests. Relax, you get to just sit there while I do a 'poke and probe'. Then you can read, nap, drink whatever you want. I'll be the one stuck in the lab doing the analysis."

"Better you than me, pal." He signed the form and handed it back to Phil.

"By the way, you can pull out of this, no questions asked and no blame given, up to the moment I inject. You do understand that, don't you?"

"Crystal clear, Dr. Frankenstein. I understand the risks and am at this moment  ready to take them. Now get going. My partners won't let me go if I don't finish my notes on this appeal."

A week later, Phil's "beemer" pulled up on the gravel drive next to the lodge. Andy was already there, unloading his fishing gear from the back of his old station wagon. It looked like an old clunker, but it was a classic. The two friends had spent the summer between their junior and senior years of college restoring the car.

Phil carried his own suitcases into the lodge and then came back out for his fishing gear. The lodge was an old stone farmhouse and barn with a beautiful view of the lake. Phil's firm had gotten it a few years before as part of a settlement. The previous owner had restored it as an investment, but it had been entangled in the inheritance battle when he died unexpectedly. The firm used it as a retreat twice a year for planning sessions. 

The rest of the time, it was available to some favored clients and to members of the firm including senior clerical staff on a basis that was part "first come, first served" and part "rank hath its privileges." Phil got it for two weeks by bringing in a settlement that netted the firm almost eight million dollars in fees and expenses.

The caretaker worked on a farm about ten minutes away. His wife doubled as a cook if needed. They were a pleasant couple in their sixties. The husband wasn't a bad fishing guide, and, if the wife's cooking wasn't inspired, it was good basic farm food tasty and filling. Andy had suggested that neither one should be around. They really didn't want anybody to know what they really would be doing. Nevertheless, Mrs. Casey had stocked the refrigerator and fixed up two of the six bedrooms in the lodge before she'd left.

"So what's the plan?" Phil asked once both men were unpacked. "Can we get some fishing in, or do we go straight to the 'Twilight Zone' stuff?"

Andy looked at his watch. "It's about 6 PM, too late for fishing, really. I thought we'd nuke some pizza for supper. I could do some quick tests and then give you the stuff."

"Just your average afternoon in the country. Why do you need more tests?"

"Baseline readings. Nothing fancy: blood pressure, heart rate and a urine sample. Did you bring the forms?"

"Here they are. I signed them and had them notarized at my office before I left."

"So your office knows what you're up to, then?"

"No. All they know is that I drew up some papers and had them notarized after I signed them. Relax; the notary didn't get a chance to read them. She just saw me sign. It's standard procedure on confidential cases, so Mary, our notary, is used to it. Here." He handed a sealed envelop to Andy, who put it in his jacket pocket.

They cooked and ate the pizza in silence, washing it down with a couple of sodas. Andy didn't want any alcohol in Phil's system. He also didn't want to talk because he was afraid of giving away his plans to his friend. Phil was nervous about what was going to happen.

"Okay," Andy said, handing him a small plastic vial. "Strip down to your shorts and fill this up for me while I set up the equipment."

"Equipment?"

"Yeah, some medical monitoring gear and a video camera. I want a working record of whatever happens. The monitor works with these tiny radio sensors that stick to your skin. You'll hardly know they're attached. The camera gives me a visual record. It also can pick up my voice, so I can talk while I'm shooting get a 'play-by-play' if you want."

"Makes sense." Phil carried his bags and the vial up to his room. A few minutes later, he was in the bathroom listening to the water run and thinking of Niagara Falls."

Andy was just finishing a quick test of the camera when Phil came back downstairs, in his boxers and carrying a capped vial full of amber liquid. Andy had moved a couple chairs to set up a "stage" area in front of one darkly paneled wall. The monitor was plugged in next to the CD player with a tray holding what looked like nine black peas on a white cloth next to it. There was a small jar of salve next to the tray.

Andy wrote something on a white label and attached it to the vial. He put the vial in a slotted hole within a small plastic carrying case. Then he walked into a small storage room just off the main room. Andy had set this up as a lab the day before with the help of a couple of grad students. The sample case went into a small mini-fridge that was sitting in a corner.

When he returned, he had his medical bag with him. He did the usual "insurance exam" procedures: took Phil's blood pressure, listened to his heart, shined a light in his eyes and ears, and banged Phil's knee with a rubber hammer. After each procedure, he made notes on a yellow tablet.

"Drop your shorts, friend," Andy finally said.

"Then do I turn my head and cough?"

"It's a thought. Later maybe. Right now I want to attach the sensors."

"Attach what and to where?"

Andy held up one of the little "peas" and the jar of salve. "These," he said, "are the sensors. The 'goop' in this jar holds them to your skin. It's a little oily, but it's a lot better than the pins we used to use. Here, tell me how this feels."

Andy took the "pea," smeared some of the salve on it, and tucked it gently to the side of Phil's neck. It stayed in place when he took his hand away. It felt a little oily, but that sensation went away in a minute or two. Phil stretched and twisted his neck. The "pea" stayed in place, but he could barely feel it.

"Seems okay, I guess," Phil said. "Where are you going to stick those things, anyway?"

"One on each side of your neck the carotid arteries; one at the top center of your forehead; one in each armpit; two on your chest, one for your heart, one for your breathing; and one by the femoral artery right here in each leg." As he spoke, Andy attached the "peas" at each point he mentioned. Then, he entered some codes on a small keypad attached to the monitor. "The little buggers are color coded. I just told the machine where each one was so I can better understand the data."

"When do you take them off?"

"The salve hardens into a permanent seal. Don't panic. I have a solvent in the lab that'll melt the stuff without leaving a mark. In the meantime, they send an automatic set of readings to the monitor system for thirty seconds every hour."

Andy took a small bottle of greenish liquid and a fresh syringe from his bag. "Last chance to back out."

"No, let's do it."

Are you ready for the shot, then?"

"I guess. Do you stick me in the arm, or do I get to drop my shorts?"

"The arm is fine. I'll inject it into a vein so it gets moving faster. Here, let me turn on the camera." He flipped a switch. The camera was perched on a tripod and focused on the spot where Phil was standing.

Andy stepped in front of the camera for a moment. "I am Andrew Hoffmann of Whitmere University. The date is May 4, 1999 at 6:35 PM. I am about to administer 30 cc. of drug BR-397 to this test subject. Based on his weight, age, and medical history this should be sufficient to create the desired psychological and neurological effects."

Phil stopped Andy just as he was about to administer the drug. "Just a moment, doctor." He looked straight at the camera and said, "I am Philip J. McNierney of this City. I want to state, for the record, that I am doing this of my own free will, having been fully appraised of the risks. 

I absolve Dr. Andrew Hoffmann, Whitmere University, and any other affected parties of any blame or responsibility for the results." Then he turned to Andy and added, "Once a lawyer, always a lawyer."

Andy tied a thin piece of rubber around Phil's arm and told him to make a fist. A quick dab of antiseptic, a pinch as the needle went in, and it was over. Andy brought over a folding chair and had Phil sit down.

"How long does this stuff take to work?"

"I should see something in about five minutes. You may feel a little dizzy." The two men made small talk, mostly about going fishing the next day. Phil was bragging about a new lure he'd bought when he suddenly shook his head.

"I think your stuff is getting to me."

Andy looked deeply into Phil's eyes. They were visibly dilated. "Time to begin," he said. He pulled a small light on a chain from his pocket and began twirling it before Phil's eyes while he spoke in a low tone. In a moment, the man was in a deep hypnotic state.

Andy got a glass of water from the nearby table. Turning to the camera, he said, "This is ordinary water from the kitchen tap. I'm going to use it as a cue to the brain control functions being tested."

He turned to face Phil. "Phil, can you hear me? Nod if you can." Phil nodded. "Phil, I'm now going to give you a second drug. You can just drink this one because it's so powerful. Here, take the glass." He handed Phil the glass, and Phil drank the water almost immediately.

"Now listen closely, Phil. What you just drank is a very powerful biogenetic drug. Even now, it's penetrating every cell of your body, getting into your DNA. In a very little while, your body is going to begin to change. You're going to change your sex. You're going to become a woman."