“I don’t mean to be evasive, but, due to sensitive and classified material, my past is not up for examination. It’s my grasp on the here and now that’s important, not the past. The Colonel needs to know I’m not going to throw a shoe on him.”
“Is that likely?”
I grinned. “No, but he likes to be certain.”
“What’s in your past that you’re afraid of?”
“Nothing. I have loads of wonderful memories and now I have an opportunity to start afresh. We learn from mistakes, so I get a rare chance to try to avoid making the same ones.”
“You speak as if you’re being given a second chance. I’ve found that no one really gets a second chance.”
“If you say so. I just look forward to every day and am grateful for every moment.”
She asked me some questions, similar in general terms to the psychiatrist in Hull. Then she drew the session to a close, obviously frustrated that I was not more forthcoming.
“Well, am I bonkers?”
“Not that I can ascertain. Mind you, it would have helped if you’d been more open.”
“I can’t help that, I’m not allowed to be, it’s all secret.”
“I have to say, I’m intrigued. You look like a debutant, but you sound like a soldier. How can that be?”
I smiled at her, but felt quite guilty that she was trying to help me and I wasn’t aiding the process.
“Well, you’re the expert, you tell me.”
“I asked about you and was told nothing. I tried checking and there are no records of you, anywhere. It’s as if you’ve stepped off a spaceship a few days ago. So, with that in mind, I have to make certain assumptions.
“One, you’ve undergone serious cosmetic surgery, but I’ve spoken to the doctors who examined you this morning and they rule that out. Two, you’ve undergone a change in identity, if so why and how?
“Three, somehow you are the product of some form of secret genetic experiment, say like cloning or similar.”
I annoyed her by grinning.
“None of the above, I’m afraid, but one is closer than the other two. I do admit that I have changed slightly. You are perfectly correct, I have had no cosmetic surgery, and my name has had to change, to protect the guilty.”
“I don’t understand. Will you tell me, eventually?”
“Perhaps, eventually,” I said, leaving her shaking her head.
Howard met me an hour later in the dining room. It was done out as a small, self-service cafeteria, so we helped ourselves to lunch. It was surprisingly good. He refused to talk shop over food, so afterwards we retired to his well- appointed office, which was upstairs with a lovely view of the Downs in the distance. He sat behind the desk as if he belonged there.
“Well, how did I do?” I asked, sitting opposite him.
He chuckled. “You’re full of surprises, that’s for sure.”
“Like?”
“Well, it’s hard to know where to start,” he said, taking several A4 sheets of paper out of his case. “Heart and lungs are exceptionally strong. On the cardiovascular test, you showed a recovery rate that is on par with Olympic athletes. You already know that you are fit, but your blood has red cells that have double the oxygen capacity to normal. Your white cells are more voracious than normal, improving your chances against infection. You held your breath for nearly six minutes, and your eyesight is about as good as they can measure. Reactions are down to point two of a second and agility is almost off the scale. In short, you are the closest thing to a super-human as we’ve ever seen.”
“Bully for Professor Standing!”
“Only he doesn’t know exactly what he’s got. Imagine the medical implications of his device?” the colonel mused.
“Considering he’s building something to be used in the field of conflict, this is so ironic,” I said.
Howard stood up and walked over to the window.
“That takes care of the physical side of Rebecca, but the mental side, that’s another story. Now, you seem to have upset poor Carlene.”
“Oh?”
He chuckled. “I think she’s frustrated that you didn’t reveal much of your past. However, she states that you are as rational as can be expected. You show no signs of hidden psychotic or psychopathic trends, but you are definitely hiding something which is causing you some anxiety.”
“No shit!”
“You don’t appear anxious to me, are you?”
I thought for a moment.
“Yes, I suppose I am, in a funny sort of way. I can deal with shit-heads, I can deal with terrorists with guns, but this female crap is full of minefields. It still takes me an hour to get ready to go out for a sodding meal! I mean; weird flimsy clothes and teetering about on shoes that elevate me to over six foot on spindly heels, which makes me stick my arse out and tighten my calf muscles. Oh, and while I’m at it, make-up, have you any idea how long it takes me to fix my make-up?”
Howard ran a hand across his almost bald head. “No, I probably don’t, but I am married.”
“Too bloody long!” I said, “I’m sorry to go on, but inside I thought I was the same son-of-a-bitch I always was, but what I am on the outside is changing me. I can feel it. It may be the chemicals in the hormones or something, but I am not the same. I don’t look at things the same way. I haven’t tried some of the things I used to enjoy, because I find I don’t want to even try them. I’m finding new things to enjoy every day, things that I’d never have even thought about as Rob. I’m physically feeling brilliant, I like this new body, but I’m not sure I can hack being a girl!”
The Colonel looked at me. “Did you tell Carlene this?”
“How can I? I can’t tell her the truth.”
“How can I help?”
“I need to learn how to be a girl gently. I’ve been chucked in the deep end, and although I can cope with a lot life can throw at me, I need to sort out the little things that matter so much. I need some space for a bit to learn to be a girl.”
“Good. Thank God for that!”
I was surprised. “What?”
“You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say you are still human and have some weaknesses. I was beginning to think your personality was suffering from a bypass. This afternoon, I’ve arranged for you to go through some physical tests. You’ve undertaken the medical and mental assessments, and passed. I want the P.T.I.s to put you through the mill. I want to see what you get to the gallon.”
“And then?”
“Then you get a week’s leave. You want to get used to being a girl, so a week is all I can spare at the moment. I need to bring someone else in on the secret, otherwise we can’t help you. How would you feel if I brought Carlene in on this and asked her to mentor you for a week?”
“Isn’t she pissed off at me for evading her questions?”
“No, she’s pissed off at me for making you evade them. She likes you and is intrigued. Well?”
“If you feel it will help. Can you trust her?”
“She’s been with us for six years. She’s seen and been party to some of the worst horrors our people have had to deal with. She’s very good at putting people’s minds back together again.”
“Then I have no problem with it. How much can we tell her?”
“As much as you feel happy with. I am keen that your anxieties are removed and dealt with. Stress and anxiety can hinder sound judgement.”
“Okay, when?”
“After your physical tests. I’ll ask her to be an independent witness to the tests, and then we’ll get together and have a chat.”
“Okay.”
The tests were based on standard physical tests for the military. They gave me a tracksuit and a pair of trainers that fitted. I didn’t have time to wear in a pair of new boots. It was a real pity, as my last pair were old friends, but didn’t fit me any more. Besides, the police had them in Hull.
The PTI was a man I knew from the Regiment. He was an Army PTI from the parachute Regiment who had been attached to the SAS for five years when I had started. His name was Ron Edwards, and I remember him as an utter bastard, like most PTIs. I was doing some stretching exercises to warm up when I saw Carlene arrive.